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marchsfreakshow · 4 months

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Bloodthirsty And Lustful [James Patrick March]

SMUT.

You're a stressed out writer, and came to the cortez, James has been helping you ever since you got here. Now, after a nap, he wants to ask you your deepest desires. Maybe even help you let go.

Warning; this is the most unhinged smut you will ever read from me. This just came out of a dark place in my brain cause of a c.ai chat lol. Thank you to @babygorewhore for being a beta-reader for this <3

Actual warnings!: you like blood. Like, you really like blood. (Reader is really unhinged in this, please bare with) descriptions of organs, bones, skin layers, grinding, switch!reader & switch!JPM, PnV, riding, James lets you take off his neck velvet. Crud smut writing.

18+! MINORS DNI- READ MY SFW WORKS

No one's perspective.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

James peered through the door to see you sitting on the bed, laptop on your lap, head in hands, and a pair of headphones thrown randomly across the room. You looked a mess, and James was worried you hadn't slept enough. Your novel had to be perfect! You needed to spend every moment writing! Every word needed to be up to standard. It drove you crazy and led you to fall asleep right then and there. Everything came crashing down when your headphones broke while taking them off. Instead of freaking out and crying, you just let out a sigh and threw them across the room.

The man stood there, staring at you while you slept, intently watching every unconscious move your body took. He wondered how on earth that odd device in your lap could cause you such problems. Wasn't it meant to make writing easier? Maybe so, but didn't stop the frustrations of wanting to write the next great American novel. It just worried him, and he kneeled by your side. Seeing how you breathed, how you gently gripped the pillow and your eyebrows furrowed together in frustration. A dream or nightmare of something that has stressed you out.

"James." You whimpered in your sleep. It made the man jump back slightly before he walked to the other side of the bed, sitting by your side. Worries were overtaking your wonderous dream. James wanted nothing more than to kill who was hurting you in your beautiful mind.

The night went on, and you woke up slowly at whatever time. You couldn't tell, and you also didn't care. James was sitting on one of the chairs, occasionally looking over to you. The curtains were always closed, and the door barely stayed open. Lights were on, but dim. Sitting up, you rubbed your eyes, and the figure sitting in the chair was blurry. "Love, you're awake." He mentioned when he saw you sit up. You nodded in response. The ghost motioned you to come over, which you obliged despite not understanding much around you. Leather chairs were never comfortable. You were so comfortable in the bed, thinking about how to write, what to write and the deadline.

"What is it, James? I was so comfortable." Grogginess was the undertone in your voice, and you were unable to keep your eyes open. It felt like 2am or 3am. But what a ravishing man next to you. He sat up properly, posture still incredible even after death. Then you were curling up on the cold, leathery, old chair, hugging yourself.

"Dear...I want to talk to you."

"We can do that in the morning."

"No." His voice almost snapped and was rushed. "No...we're alone at this hour." Typical. The night was his favourite time to talk. Sure some people were still awake, but he knew how silent it was at 3am.

"Fine." You groaned slightly. "What did you want to talk abou-"

"Your desires. Your true wants, and needs." Sudden eye contact intimidated you and your sleepy eyes. Cue fiddling with your necklace, your own blood vial. The small amount of liquid rushed around in the vial, caused by your own finger. You never had anyone to do it with you.

You never said it creepily! All you asked your friends was if they wanted to share a blood vial because it was pretty. No one accepted. So you cut your finger. Your pinky on your non-dominant hand. It hurt, but only for a second. Seeing the blood slowly drip out, and the skin layers opening up so quick, it was invigorating for you. Opened up a deep fantasy, and morbid desire. One no one was ever told about. It was a secret to you, and maybe your stuffed animals. Was it that James was asking you to explore those fantasies with him? Impossible unless he could read minds. A secret fantasy like this always hid itself in the back of your mind, never to be found.

James noticed your darting eyes, your fiddling and laboured breaths. "Darling.." He trailed off, feeling your free hand softly, almost too soft. You felt the ghost-like touches (ha-) and your bloodshot eyes met his.

"James, you're..a murderer."

"...Well, yes. I have indeed told you that fact before. In fact, you were not as shocked as others. Humans are fascinating creatures." He chuckled, seeing the humour in your sentence.

Ah, a sentence that put you on edge. They are. Humans, with their layers, complexity. Humans with their need to have attention on them at all times, to create for others. All of it, it was all in your obsession. "Tell me about your interest my hummingbird. Nothing can be too much for me."

"Can I? Can I really?" You asked with a whisper, a slight glint appearing in your eyes. James nodded, and you immediately let loose. A dam breaking in half to bring in a flood. "Human bodies are so, fascinating." Your instant smile was almost manic like you lost your mind when your interest was mentioned.

"Medical shows seldom get it right. Scrubs does. They do it well."

"Have you, ever seen a body in real life? Not on these shows you mention?" James interjected. He wanted to ask you for details of your sick and morbid love for the dead. To see if his erection would get any harder. The thought of seeing you killing or exploring a body, covered in blood made James want to fall harder for you. Your crazy matched his crazy. Maybe more.

"No. It's...a dream though. Whether someone else cut open the body, or I cut them open...I've always wanted to dig around and feel what the organs feel like, hold a bloody bone in my hand..." You then go to bite my nails nonchalantly like you didn't just confirm your want for a morbid and murdering mind. He stared at you, something in his eyes. A sudden need to murder, and a flame of lust for you. Knowing someone shared his deep desires and could help each other, it made him want you more, But hid it with a breath.

"It's so fucking deranged! but the body is so complex. I want to study the tiny nerves and pick out the bones or organs I'm closest to. Having a fully empty body. Maybe even just having a skin and muscle body. It's just so, interesting." A sly smile reached you and almost made you giggle like a maniac. This sudden insanity made James light up.

"Come here." He beckoned you, and you submissively stood in front of him. But not 3 seconds later did he pull you down onto his lap, holding your waist. Gripping your skin, and nails digging into your sides. One more word from you about your loves, and he would have taken you right then and there. "You are, full of surprises my love."

Feeling him under you, you bit your lip and rested your head by his ear. "I bet your ghostly body is the most interesting. I wonder if there's anything different about a ghost body compared to an alive body." You gave in to what he wanted. He wanted to know everything. Every gory detail that your horrid brain could conjure up. Adding to your warm breaths on his neck, you gently traced around his chest, fiddling with his buttons, but never undoing them. Teasing James to hell and back.

James' breathing hitched slightly, before he took a hold of your face, and brought you close, noses almost touching. "Tell me. What else do you want to explore? Please."

You gazed at his lips before meeting his dark eyes once again, "Everything. I want to explode a heart. Maybe even open up organs, and see what makes a human tick. Take out the muscles, and bend them backwards. And, I want to knock open a skull. See what makes a human live. Unravel the brains, read what goes on." While talking, you occasionally moved your fingers to where you were talking, letting your fingers trace James' head and slicked back hair.

He shuddered as you moved around. Both his imagination and yours going crazy. You felt him twitch under you, and it was only a matter of time until he gave in to his lust. This urged you to carry on talking, to dig deeper into the fantasy that you forbade yourself from thinking about. "James?"

He whined out a "hm?" Eyes closed, and hands gripping onto the chair arms.

"give me a fresh body."

"wh.. what?" He spluttered before moving his hands around your torso. The way your soft skin moved in his hands, mouldable like putty.

"cover me in someone's blood. And let me taste the sweet iron on my tongue." The way you spoke felt sensual, and you ran your hands through his hair, the slicked-back threads being thrown in any and all directions.

It simply drove the man insane.

"Your wish is always my command my sweet bird." He was hungry. He wanted to devour your words while they were being choked out of you. He wanted to hear your cries for murder while he fucked you like nothing else mattered. "What, other things do you wish to see? How much depraved insanity can one handle?" James picked you up and almost threw you onto the bed.

First your shirt went, then your trousers. His clothing came next. "I have such an urge to kill. I want to see the way a human body dies." You sighed. His vest went in one direction, your bra went the other way. "How fire burns the skins and the muscles. I want to see a fresh slash open up the layers of skin. I want it all James."

The cold man on top of you hadn't even penetrated you, yet he felt like he was close to an orgasm. Hearing your insane wants and needs so close to his own. Using your depraved thoughts as a way to get him to fuck you was nothing but insanity. Craziness you could only tell him.

"I want to kill someone whilst you're inside of me. Is that crazy to want?" You confessed in a whisper, on your knees and undoing James' belt.

"Nothing is crazy my hummingbird. I'll happily oblige." He took your chin in his hand, doe eyes meeting his. The pure, slightly innocent look on your face made him closer and closer to bending you over and making you feel heaven. You reached your hand up to his velvet, but he hissed slightly and backed away. "Bunny..." He panted.

"I know it's sensitive, but can I see..it sir?" You asked, pressing kisses closer and closer to the wound that haunted James so. He felt frozen. You wanted to see something so, forbidden. Something he never let anyone see. Something that held a memory.

He took a deep breath before pushing his control back onto you. "My... you want something so...forbidden.." and you nodded intensely. He was only left in his velvet and boxers. Something had to go first, it had to be that dear fabric he wore so closely.

"I won't touch it, I promise. I just, fuck, I want to see neck layers, I want to see what nerves you had to cut for this to happen to you." You knew it was an odd choice, but he nodded after a few minutes of silence. He stiffened up as you reached behind his neck and pulled it off slowly. The man couldn't find words to describe the way he felt. Having someone be so, interested and obsessed with the way he died, almost wanting to have sex with him because of the fantasies they denied.

Your deep breaths felt warm against the cold cut, and you spoke before James had a chance to tell you to stop. "Oh, James. Oh, this cut is magnificent. So many layers..how much blood spilt out..?"

The question threw James off a bit, but nonetheless, he was happy to answer, getting closer to fucking you at every point. "More than you could imagine." He left his fingertips resting under your chin.

The words that left his lips almost tipped you over the edge, and you forced James to lie down on the bed. You were, once again, on top of him. This time, tugging at his boxers, and moving your own underwear to the side. Everything hit you like a freight train and you couldn't hold back anymore. Degenerate, depraved, blood fuelled sex. It was what you needed. To be filled by a killer you wanted to kill with.

Two pairs of hands unable to sort and fix themselves in one place, they had to move, they had to grip, scratch and trace. Two pairs of eyes focusing on eachother, unable to look away from the bloodlust you felt for the other.

It was rough, fast and hard. He moaned out for you louder than he had ever been before. You whimpered his name, desperate for a quick release. There were no other noises other than your lewd moans, until you stopped all of a sudden.

"Darling.." James whined slightly. Eyes slightly erratic, you held his face in your soft hands.

"I need you James. I need you eternally. To see you covered in the deep red of blood." The utmost eroticness of your words almost earned you a 'fuck' escaping from your partner below you.

Almost.

Instead he groaned, slapped his hands to your waist and thrusted upwards over and over. It was careless, but hard. Every thrust hit that perfect spot inside you, letting your eyes nearly disappear up into your head. Moans were practically screams.

The thought of seeing you covered in blood, waiting for him to take you made the man desperate. Everything everyone else couldn't be. He was getting close and even more desperate for both you to come at the same time. It drove you over the edge as you finished faster than expected, and you sort of wrapped your hands around James' neck, then laid down the best you could while he was still inside you. He chuckled darkly and thrust inside of you once more, earning an almost pornagraphic moan from you.

Feeling paralyzed, you adjusted yourself so you were simply just laying ontop of James. Silence was the best sound at that moment, and he kept his hands placed on your waist. "Mine." He smiled against the crook of your neck.

"Especially because of my deranged, bloody thoughts?"

"Especially because of these beautiful thoughts you have."

You supposed James was your murdering partner now, and would help you fulfill the fantasies you desired for. A gentleman, yet a physcopath who used the bodies of those he killed. Everything about him shouldn't be so, handsome and you shouldn't want him the way you do. But a murdering gentleman is someone you couldn't refuse.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tagging;

@fear-is-truth @nahoyasboyfriend @slvt4jamesmarch @taintandviolent @tatelangdonsweater @lvxybby

#ahs #evan peters #american horror story #james patrick march #james march #ahs hotel #smut #jpm #james march x reader #james Patrick march x Reader #james x you #jpm x reader #x reader #jpm smut #james Patrick March smut #evan peters smut #evan peters x reader #im so nervous #pls reblog

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charlesslut16 · 6 months

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-Snowy airports-

summary : you meet lewis at a snowy airport...

PAIRING : lewis hamilton x reader

WARNINGS : none

note : i hope you like this one because it is a bit longer, lovies!

december masterlist ; masterlist

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If somebody had asked you if you liked airports, you would probably say no. They were just too noisy, too crowded and too busy for you to come down for a minute or two.

The amount of people shuffling by racing against the clock to get through the check-in process, going through machines and being oddly searched and do not forget the racial bias and prejudice involved with that — but it’s always “just doing our jobs.”

And now your departure was already off to a bad start since you were rushing to get to your late-night flight just for it to be delayed not once but twice with no answers on the second.

Usually there would be fewer people flying at night and the airport was almost peaceful, you liked it that way, since you were a little child until now that you were an adult.

Until there was a final announcement by 2am that your flight was completely cancelled due to plane issues and a severe snow storm heading the way you came from.

You tried to be as understanding with the workers who were under a lot of stress themselves and had no fault on the cancellation of the flight themselves as you could be.

A small snort broke your attention from thinking. At first, you wanted to ignore the sound coming from the side, but after you were interrupted you lifted your head to see a man

A man with dark braided hair, a jacket and a gray scarf around his neck and with large hands resting against his knees. His ink colored eyes were set on you and didn’t falter as you met his gaze.

You quirked up a brow, your facial expression saying, ‘what’s funny?’

He raised his hands, sending a small smile your way, “I don’t mean to laugh at you, but I figured you got tired of sitting on those god-awful chairs as much as I did—1000 hours ago.”

The young man was sitting against the cool windows while the airport was surprisingly nauseously warm.

You hummed lightly, and the both of you talked some more. It was as if it had clicked instantly between the two of you. As if you had known each other your whole lives. The last sentence was you talking about your jobs.

“No, I’m a f1 driver, and what are you? I was going with dopey the dwarf based on how your beanie is positioned on your head—a cute one, though.”

At the thought of a f1 driver, you were curious. Maybe you knew him from the internet, but you couldn't be sure, you were never a fan of cars, but maybe you would watch it just for him.

You gasped, “or maybe that’s a cover-up because you secretly think I’m a drug dealer, Mr. Not so bad looking f1 driver.”

To anyone else, this might have looked like flirting, but honestly, you didn’t think too much of it. You were not responsible for what came out of your mouth when you were half awake.

The man tilted his head at that, finding it fair, but he didn’t think too much of you yet. You were just another poor soul that was stuck here at this airport for who knows how long

“So tell me, stranger who’s a driver, what do you like about driving?”

And that brought up a whole lengthy conversation that had you nodding your head and humming along. This was evident that the stranger with the dark gorgeous eyes was super passionate about what he did and that was admirable.

Fortunately, the man he worked for sounded like a super nice guy, you did not, but you have to do what you have to do to survive sometimes. He knew what he wanted, and it seemed like he’s known for a while when it came to driving.

However, you could sense some frustrating behind that profession. You, on the other hand? It took you much longer to figure it out until you landed a job. It was almost fairy tale like.

Just like you bonding with this man who didn’t seem like a creep to you, and you hoped you didn’t sound crazy to him, but he engaged in contact with you first so who cares.

Eventually, the both of you found yourselves sitting beside one another, shaking hands and introducing yourselves as the conversation flowed.

“What’s in London for you?”

“Work,” you automatically answered and then shared a laugh, “how boring of me, I know. But it’s not only work, my friends and apartment too. Half of my life is there, really.”

“Where’s the rest of it?”

You exhaled, “still trying to find it mostly, but if you mean physically? Also, Seattle and California. As you can see, London and Seattle seem to be winning.”

It was Lewis’s turn to hum, “life has a funny way of showing you where you need to be.”

You leaned your head back against the cool glass as you smirked, “is that your way of telling me I should stay because of you, Mr. driver model man.

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t object if you did, however.”

He stated at you seriously before the both of you laughed once again. Everything seemed to be more funny when the winter sun said goodbye for the night, like in a fairy tail.

“And I’m not just saying that. As corny as it may seem, I do believe that things happen for a reason, and we were meant to meet tonight.”

You snorted, feeling as if you knew most of Lewis Hamilton already too in just these short few hours. He knew just a bulk of info about you too and that felt like enough, shockingly.

They say you know when you encounter other human beings, that they were meant to enter your life and Lewis l already said he believed in reasons, so did you, sometimes.

Sooner than later, you were the very few that made pillows out of your belongings and laid your heads beside each other on opposite sides. You let out a yawn, tossing an arm over your eyes

Soon the conversation slowed and became hushed whispers as the airport seemed to shift to cold temperature now which made you unintentionally shuffle closer to the man next to you

The stranger in the airport’s voice became deeper as each minute ticked by, and it provided a soothing warmth by your ear, you never has with any other man by your side.

However, the both of you had your attention turned to the snowflakes that whirled into the night sky, and that added to the contentment the both of you felt on this challenging night.

When you were shaken by an employee who told you that the airport was now offering the luxury boarding rooms as a complimentary stay for the remaining few of you until the storm fully came and went or until you were able to get the hell out and go elsewhere, you realized there was something sticking to your face.

A post it that read: didn’t want to wake the pretty beauty, had a friend get me before it got too bad. Check your phone and I’ll see you in London sometime ;)

Followed by a little doodle that looked very much like you with a saggy beanie signed with Lewis’s signature, this looked like elegant chicken scratch really, but it made you smile nonetheless.

Maybe you were meant to meet him, at this airport and on this day, You never really believed in coincidences, but maybe now you would start believing in them some more.

#f1 #formula one #formula 1 #f1 fluff #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton oneshot #sir lewis hamilton #christmas #masterlist

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fan-goddess · 8 months

Note

For your kinktober requests, I just think that Ettore + breeding… 🙂

Authors note: I see exactly what you mean! Though I’ve gone more canon Ettore with this as a test, and I sort of am satisfied? I kinda went less breeding than I wanted cause I went with reader POV rather than Ettore who trust me is a lot more vocal in his head than in person. Still, I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: P in v sex, breeding kink, SA content, very dubious consent, dirty talk, tread lightly with this big warning bellow (if I miss anything important you think I should add let me know)

Taglist: @arcielee, @sylasthegrim, @sofiyathecunt , @marvelgirl123, @blue-serendipity, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @mochi-rose, @omgbrcat,

THIS IS A DARKER FIC THAN THE ONES I USUALLY WRITE, SO PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION BEFORE YOU READ

The ship was lonely as hell, but that fact was nothing you hadn’t already figured out before.

Relationships were strictly forbidden, by the orders of Dr Dibs. The woman said it was due to the fact it’s interfere too much with her research. Although, it also could’ve easily been due to the fact she’s just a psychotic cunt who wants everyone to be as miserable as she is. Anyone with eyes could see that she herself was making eyes at one of the men named Monte. Yet no matter how many times he seemed to deter himself away from her, the bitch never seemed to take away the idea of no as an option.

Though it seemed Dibs wasn’t the only one who didn’t understand the whole no relationships of any kind business.

There was also Ettore.

Ettore, whatever his last name was, was to put it simply, a perverted creep. His eyes would rake over your body everytime you entered the same room as him, and he’d always have this smug smirk as his face whenever you caught him.

What was worse however than hating it, was actually thinking about his smug face in the box whenever you got the urge to. Thinking about him smirking in the skin of your neck as you bounced on his cock, made your skin flush in embarrassment and your mind reel in lust.

You were content though. Living in the sweet ignorant bliss of your thoughts practically everyday. Until one afternoon, that bubble of ignorant bliss was popped by none other than Ettore himself.

It was an unknown day as you were leaving the box. The outside was always dark. For all you knew you could’ve been awake at 2AM and going to bed at midday. Yet still, you already knew you’d never forget this day, no matter the darkness.

“Going somewhere?” The sudden noise made you jump in shock as you grip you chest in fear. Yet when you turn around to accuse whoever scared you, the words die on your tongue as you made eye contact with those same predatory eyes you recognised all too well. Ettore.

“Just, just to the games room.” You stutter. It’s not a complete lie. You needed something to distract you from the horrors of a life you’ve lead yourself to live. Who knows… maybe a beaten up rubix cube could fix that need…

“Hm…” You hate how your body somehow has a physically reaction to that noise. The heated flush you can feel in your cheeks makes you feel almost coy for the first ever since you were forced on the hell like ship.

“Well, that doesn’t sound right. Though what’s good for me, as I think you’re lying right now…” His voice feels like it’s dripping with venom, and his eyes hold the same glint predators have when they successfully manage to trap their prey.

You try to move past him, to get to the ladder to escape this version of hell. Yet as soon as you get close enough to him, his hands grab at the skin of your arm and push you to the steel walls of the room, his face so close to yours that you could practically feel his warm breath on your face.

“What the-“

“You were moaning my name in the box princess…” As he said this, the single hand that he wasn’t using to subdue you was being used to practically fondle your body firmly and without regret. When he gets to the swell of your breasts, a sharp hiss is released when his fingers roughly tug on your chest through your thin shirt. “Needy cocktease…” He groans as he gropes you.

“Please stop…” You whisper, your heart racing like a fish caught in a corner by a shark.

“No. I don’t think I will. Needy cockteases always want it in the end…” He doesn’t stop to ask if you want this as he pulls down your trousers and pants in one rough tug, and when you try to turn your head away and get some leverage to run, a hand of his rough grabs at the skin of your throat and squeezes carelessly in a warning manner.

He doesn’t seem to care when you begin to gasp and cough from the lack of air. If anything, it seems to make the bulge that pokes into the skin of your leg harder.

“I’m going to fuck you now. And when I cum, I’m going to do it deep inside of you so it takes root. And when that fucking bitch of a doctor looks at you, it’ll be too late for her to stop it. When I’m done with you, you’re going to be fucking dripping of me, and you’re going to take it like a good whore.”

His words make the hair on your neck crawl from a mixture of horror, disgust, and self-loathing at the fact a part of you is enjoying this treatment. It’s that same part of you can’t stop yourself from nodding in agreement at his words.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him when he brings down his own loose shorts, nor can you bring yourself to give him the satisfaction of a reaction when he thrusts himself inside of you.

Yet even so, a sharp hiss you can’t stop yourself from releasing is let out into the skin of his neck when he practically begins to fuck you.

His murmurs are illegible, and yet still they somehow sound so loud. You don’t even have to actually listen to know what he’s saying. His words from earlier and his body language says it all.

His hands focus no more on subduing you, to your relief, now that you’ve practically gone limp in his arms. Instead, they grip so hard on your hips you already know they’ll leave visible bruises no later than tomorrow morning.

No preparation was really needed given the fact you were fucking yourself on a fake cock not even half an hour ago. Yet even still, it’s a strange sort of thrill you feel when you realise your body accepts him. That even though your brain is screaming at you to tell him to stop his assault, your body is clinging tighter with a degree of roughness you never knew you had.

“Ettore please” You have no idea what it is your begging for at this point. Your brains too far gone to tell if this has become a cry for help or a cry for more. Either way, Ettore listens with a selective ear.

His cock slams inside of you harder, and the grip he has on your hips somehow tightens as his hand manoeuvres to press at your lower stomach, where you can practically feel his cock hitting your sweet spot with a wanton cry.

You can feel the fiery hot feeling of pleasure trickling down your spine, and when you try to tell Ettore you’re close, all you the noise you can make is a pathetic whine.

“Aw… is my little whore drunk on my cock already? Are you gonna cum is that it? Is that why you’re mewling on my cock like a kitten? Well good for you kitten, cause the feeling of your tight cunt is gonna make me cum. And I know exactly where I’m gonna do it… stuff all of it in you till your dripping.”

Your brain finally kicks in as you beg for him to stop. To give you mercy. But all he replies with is a devilish smirk and a sharp slap to your confined tits as you cry out.

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do…” He says with a dark glare.

When you cum on his cock, a strangled noise you didn’t even realise came from you is released for all to hear. Yet it’s released time and time again as Ettore continues to use you for his pleasure.

Your whimpers louden as your nerves practically catch alight with pleasure. Your whole body feels as though it is on fire as it burns with overstimulation, and yet when it is quenched by another orgasm, you almost wish for it to be let alight again.

With a groan though, you can feel Ettores body stiffen as he cums inside of you, and his hand pushing almost painfully on your womb. As if to try and feel where his seed fills you to the brim.

When he eventually releases your body from his hold though, the exhaustion hits you suddenly, and you slump against the wall to not fall to the floor.

You watch Ettore in silence as he puts his softening cock back inside of his shorts, before barely looking at your still half naked body.

“I’ll see you soon. Can’t let you go unfilled for too long…” He smirks, before walking and climbing up the ladder, leaving you all alone.

You continue to stand there in silence, and a shudder of a breath you didn’t realise you were holding escapes you as his spent leaks from your cunt down your thighs.

You place one of your hands where he held you so intently, and you find you can still feel the warmth of your where his touch lingered on your skin.

Maybe that is what it’ll be like now with your new found relationship with Ettore? A constant state of burning…

#ettore smut #ettore fan fiction #ettore fanfiction #ettore fanfic #ettore x reader #ettore fic related #ettore/reader #ettore #high life #high life fanfic #high life fanfiction #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell character #my works #kinktober #my kinktober

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ask-decepticon-nightglitch · 5 months

Text

Idia Shroud x Reader

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

Artist: unknown

Genre: fluff

I haven't gotten to Idia's book yet so things might be incorrect

I opened my eyes to see the pale room I was given ever since I was kidnapped by those strange soldiers from S.T.Y.X.

I put on my white uniform that was given to me on the same day.

It was only 2am. I shouldn't be out of bed, but I could not sleep. I walked into the hallway, seeing the other bedrooms that hold other research subjects like myself.

There was a blue glow coming from a different hallway. This hallway only had one room at the end of it. Must be Idia's room.

I wandered into the main area, where there was a long table and a screen. I remembered seeing that poorly done "welcome to S.T.Y.X.!" video that Idia used to make things less terrifying after the sudden kidnapping.

I noticed the place wasn't as guarded as I thought it would be. Did the guards all have a bed time like the research subjects?

There was another hallway adjacent to the hallway that held Idia's room. This hallway had a few rooms, but one thing caught my eye.

Ortho.

Ortho was turned off, it almost looked like he was in some kind of stasis pod.

"He can't hear or see me if he's powered off, right...?"

I continue to wander the halls. I did end up checking out the blue glow coming from the hall from Ortho's room.

It was Idia's room.

And Idia was awake.

But it looked like Idia did not really care that I was out of my room.

"Y/n?" He softly called out to me.

"Er- y-yes?" I answer.

"Why are you out of your room?"

"I'm sorry, I'll go back to bed."

Idia put his tablet down. He sat up from his bed, hair messy, looking very tired.

"We are friends, right?" He asked.

The question caught me off guard.

"Yes, of course we are. We've known each other since elementary school."

Idia seemed nervous.

"Can you come in?" He asked.

I nodded slightly and stepped into his room, sitting on his bed. His room was dark except for the blue glow of his monitors.

"Are you okay?" I asked, noticing my friend was crying.

"I'm fine, I just don't want you to hate me." The words shook like a leaf.

"Aww, Idia, sweetie... I honestly think doing research on the overblot students is smart, especially since overblotting is rare. But I do have to admit that kidnapping was a bit excessive. I still have bruises from the soldiers grabbing me."

Idia was astonished at my reply.

"S-Seriously? You're still my friend, then?" He asked.

"Forever!"

Idia's cheeks went pink. He had a sharp toothed grin.

"Whee hee hee!"

"Well, it was very nice talking to you. I think I'll head to bed now." I got up.

"T-That is okay. Good night, Y/n."

The next night, I woke up at 1am. I got up, got dressed and headed to that area with the long table and screen. I was surprised to see Idia sitting at the table, doing work on his tablet. It was dark in the room, but just light enough to see.

"Oh, it's just you. You scared me!" I laughed gently.

Idia smiled at me.

"Did you know your heartbeat increases every time you're around me?"

"Oh."

"And your body temperature levels sky rocket if I hold your hand." He added.

"Oh."

"Can you tell me why?"

"Umm..." does he know? Does he know that I've had a crush on him ever since middle school?

Idia smirked. I can tell he was back to his dominant side instead of the quiet side.

Idia got up, getting very close to me. He was inches from my face. I leaned back against the table.

"I-Idia?"

"I have liked you for a very long time." He whispered. His voice was smooth and relaxing.

I looked at his blue lips, feeling drawn to kiss him. To touch him. To have him as my own.

Idia's hair was very pink. His eyes were filled with a certain hunger.

I noticed Idia was too shy to make a bold move, so I pressed my lips to his.

Even the smallest kiss had Idia let out a small moan. I could tell he's never done this with anyone.

Idia's hair was bright pink.

I leaned him back against the table, kissing him deeply.

Idia's back touched the table, he surrendered to me.

"Y/n... I-I..."

"Heheh... well um. We should probably get to bed now. Your bags are only getting worse." I kiss his cheek.

As I was about to walk off, my hand was grabbed.

"W-Wait. Can you...Can we cuddle? In my room?" Idia looked away as he asked this.

"Oh-! Aww, of course!"

We both got into his room. He closed the door behind me, holding me close once we were in bed. I was smaller compared to him and fit perfectly in his grasp.

We both ended up falling asleep in each other's arms.

853 words

#i wrote this at like 1 am #twisted wonderland #idia shroud #idia x reader

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fandom-junk-drawer · 1 year

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The Witcher Headcanon - Regrets

Everyone does something or has done something that they regret. Even Geralt. He has plenty of memories that randomly rise to the surface of his mind late at night, and bob there, their bloated, decaying corpses reeking of regret and keeping him awake. His mind is a veritable swamp of regrets because when you live as long as a Witcher, you end up collecting quite a few.

Geralt can be almost asleep, and his brain will just go, "It's 2am, let's take a trip down memory lane!" And then it will go poke at one of the rotting corpses.

Tonight it picked the puffed up remains of his most recent debacle.

Geralt had made the mistake of getting into a fight with Yennefer. He and Jaskier were staying at her Manor, and he had been irritable. Contracts had been scarce, and he had been spreading the sh*t mood around with a shovel.

They got into an argument, and he'd said something to her that really rubbed her the wrong way. She'd stormed out.

Jaskier tried to talk to her, but she kept brushing him off. He knew it had something to do with Geralt. He and Yennefer had been at each other's throats for days, thanks to Geralt's bad mood.

Jaskier finally got Yennefer to talk to him, by kneeling right in front of her in the hallway and holding the hem of her skirt in his hands. He gave her his best Puppy Eyes.

Not the f***ing soft eyes...with the eyeliner... Fine.

Yennefer had told him the whole story.

Jaskier had taken offense. Oh h*ll to the no! Geralt had just crossed The Line. No one insulted Yen like that. That was his job! If Yennefer wasn't going to do anything about it, he would!

"Do you want me to handle it?"

"Like you would listen if I said no!"

Yennefer basically turned her feral Frienemy loose on Geralt. And she didn't even feel the least bit guilty.

Jaskier could be extremely annoying when he chose to be, and he was going to annoy the f**k out of Geralt on Yennefer's behalf.

He started out with the one thing that all introverts hate: Incessant talking.

He would sing all his best bawdy songs. Loudly.

He followed Geralt around, keeping up a constant stream of chatter.

Geralt, did you know music theory is similar to mathematics? Here, let me explain...

Geralt, has anyone ever told you that you need to get out more and push yourself out of your comfort zone?

Geralt, did I ever tell you about this one night I spent with the in-keeper's daughter!

Isn't the weather nice?

You need to cheer up! Stop being so serious!

Are you mad? You look mad...

He went with some good old-fashioned passive aggressiveness next.

He hung Geralt's clothes out to dry on the wash line in a way that their shadows spelled out the word 'tw*t'.

He followed Geralt around with his lute, making up songs documenting whatever it was that Geralt was doing at the moment, and randomly throwing in the highest pitched discordant notes he could and watching Geralt wince.

He would walk into Geralt's room and just stand there silently looking at him, then knock something over and walk out, leaving the door wide open.

He completely stopped talking to him after Geralt had told him to shut up. Geralt had been relieved at first, but grew more and more frustrated as Jaskier refused to talk to him. Jaskier went about his day, speaking not a word to Geralt, but happily conversing with Yennefer, who now appeared to be his best friend.

They sat together, talked together, and Jaskier would entertain her with jokes and stories, and songs. He would gently tease her, play-arguing with her like he always did, and would practically crawl into her lap, whining in that godsawful needy way that he knew would annoy Geralt.

Jaskier then mixed being deliberately obtuse. And oh, how fun that had been!

"No, I can't see if Yen is outside."

"Well, I mean, there is a wall in the way, Geralt."

"I don't see how getting up will make it easier to see through the wall, but I guess I'll give it a try."

"No, I still can't see through it."

Geralt's eye had started twitching.

Then he moved on to malicious compliance.

The look on Geralt's face after he'd told Jaskier to 'b*gger off", and Jaskier just started doing it right there in front of him! Geralt had never, in his life, regretted p*ssing off Yennefer more.

"Alright, I'll f***ing appologize to Yen!"

#the witcher #the witcher headcanon #the witcher netflix #twn #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #geraskier #geraskifer #geraskefer #yenskier #yennskier #yennaskier #yenneskier #regrets headcanon #henry cavill

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awalkthroughiris · 1 year

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U2’s The Joshua Tree

hi people! i have no idea what i'm doing but i wanted to post this before i forgot to hehe, i wrote this a little bit ago, but i wanted to share, i fully don't expect anyone to read this but if you do, let me know what you think! i'm so sorry if the formatting is weird, i've never used tumblr LOL.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Listening to U2’s The Joshua Tree for the first time,

randomly 1-2am on a Friday night.

I’m actively finishing the first track, Where the Streets Have No Name, as I’m writing this. I’m not sure why I’m here, or why I’m awake even, but here I am listening to my first U2 album. I’ve of course heard of U2 before, my parents have played their music throughout my childhood, but the only song I could name is With or Without You, and I honestly don’t even know 90% of that song. Recently, I’ve been listening to the band Inhaler, who’s frontman is Bono’s son, Elijah Hewson, and my parents heard me listening and nonstop talking about them, which in turn has become them telling me to listen to a U2 album. I don’t know why I’m deciding to listen now, but I feel like maybe I’ll have some cinematic existential revelation by listening to this album, but that’s the romantic in me talking.

Okay, about to start track 2 now, but I love track 1, it made me want to drive, somewhere where there’s an arch of trees with arms of sunlight reaching my face. Now that I’m thinking about it, that makes complete sense in terms of the lyrics lol. I guess the same message was conveyed musically as well.

The production of the second track, “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” is very pleasing to my ears. This song is distantly familiar to me, I can think of driving to Oregon in the summertime, venturing back roads and this song playing, maybe after Lovers in Japan by Coldplay played. As someone who believes in God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit, I can’t help but feel emotional while listening, but this could also be my nostalgic ties.

With this gentle emotional twist in my stomach, and the building of tears in my eyes, With or Without You has begun. My dad said recently how “emotionally evocative” this song is for him, and to be honest I didn’t and probably still don’t understand the way he meant it, but with the placement of this track in the album, I certainly can’t help but feel emotional. It’s giving me a similar feeling to the song A Real Hero in the context of the movie Drive did for me the first time I watched it. The lyrics are so simple yet I find there’s so many ideas and situations I can attach to them. I almost feel as if any interpretation I have would be invalid since I’m just a teenage girl, and a teenage girl who’s never even fallen in love or honestly had any remotely intense romantic feelings.

A switch in pace, Bullet the Blue Sky is playing. It’s easy to feel the angst in the lyrics, with the repetition in the drums and bass, it weirdly feels like slam poetry. This isn’t something I would typically listen to, but I definitely don’t mind it, the guitar break provided a nice amount of time to just, think.

Running to Stand Still’s intro reminded me of a Jeff Buckley cover, Lost Highway. It also makes me think of folk music. The way thoughts in folk music are expressed seemed to be some factor in the way the song is structured, honestly no idea whether that is intentional or not.

Red Hill Mining Town, took a turn I wasn’t expecting at all, I’m kinda grooving out though right now. “You I can’t live without”, since this is a first listen I don’t know the tie, but an allusion to With or Without You?? Oh my goodness, I totally recognize this song as well, the “I’m hanging on” that kicked in around 1:25 is something I recall. It’s weird how my brain hAnGs On to specific parts of these songs. I need to revisit this song after doing some research though because I have no idea what the commentary on this song is for.

There’s so much energy in In God’s Country, it’s refreshing. One of the things I notice with my music taste is that there’s a lack of creative percussion. Which I certainly don’t mind, but listening to music like this helps me understand how, for lack of better words, bland, the other songs can be percussion wise. I don’t have any context to who Bono is really, besides that he’s seemingly been painted as some sort of insufferable humanitarian, but the religion driven metaphors in the lyrics are very interesting.

Trip Through Your Wires might be my least favorite song sonically honestly. I don’t want to be mean, but it just isn’t my favorite. I’m not entirely sure what it’s reminding me of, but it gives me the feeling of an old western setting, which I find, not bland or empty, just not my cup of tea I guess. A complete sidenote though, I am DEFINITELY getting tired as it has hit 2am now.

I’m really liking One Tree Hill so far. One thing I’m really liking about this album, is the places it literally takes my mind to. I think I’m a very visual thinker, these songs evoke blurry pictures that are grounded in nature, images like running through tall grass or driving in some of my favorite places that remind me of my childhood. It feels pretentious to say “my childhood” when I’m 17, but I think it’s easy to understand what I mean. On another more relevant note, this song feels like its painting out an image of what absorbing life feels like: ambedo.

Although it might be the “weirdest” song on the album thus far, I’m enjoying the sonics of Exit. I like how bass heavy it is. Upon further inspection, because I had zero understanding to make of the lyrics, this song was made from the perspective of a serial killer, due to Bono’s reading of a novel. What I found creepily interesting however, was the fact that Robert Bardo used this song as part of his defense for stalking and murdering Rebecca Schaeffer. What I find especially creepy about this, is that I listened to a podcast about this case. An unsettling coincidence.

Continuing on in this unsettling feeling, Mothers of the Disappeared is a heart-wrenching tribute. I don’t think I have much to say about this one, because I have just learned the context to the song’s making and it’s just heartbreaking, I can’t even imagine what families went through. It’s a needed not-so-gentle reminder of what reality can be, and what it is for a lot of people. Its easy to forget that the horrors we hear of are actually real, at least this is the case for me, a girl who has lived in the same city her whole life and generally stays blissfully ignorant. A great finish to the album.

#music #80s rock #alternative #80s bands #aesthetic #grunge #lyrics #song lyrics #u2 band #blog #musician #jeff buckley #inhaler #inhaler dublin #elijah hewson #bono

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the-arsenal-of-megadeth · 2 months

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Lucretia

Dave Mustaine x Y/N POV story, slightly based off the song. (mature: vulgar language, gore, violence, use of drugs/alcohol(THEY ARE BOTH OF AGE.), talk of death)

Words: 1,369

Y/N’s POV: October 26th, 1989, 2:35AM

It was cold, frigid, brisk as hell, dark, black, eerie… y’know, it was a damn cold, dark and scary night. I mean, I was at least scared, my friend Dave wasn’t at all, well, he was sleeping, but I was still wide awake, we were in his room. I looked at the alarm clock on Dave’s bedside table, dammit, it was past 2AM, I had just realized he had fallen asleep hours ago. Now, it was just me and my own thoughts, just me, until I heard a creak, a very long, loud creak, I jumped at the sound and frantically flicked my eyes around the room, it was almost like someone was walking up the stairs or opening an old door. Whatever it was, it scared me, pretty bad. I was gonna get up but, I couldn’t move, holy shit, I was so scared I couldn’t move! I just sat there until I felt like I wasn’t frozen in my own body, then I got up and went downstairs to investigate.

I opened the door and walked out, quietly shutting it behind me so I didn’t wake up Dave. There was a chill running down my spine, but I was brave, I was no pussy and ghosts are NOT real. Like seriously, who believes that-... what was that. I had heard another creak, this time it sounded closer to me, but it still scared me just as bad as the first time. I cleared my throat,

“Hello..? Is anyone there?”

God I sounded crazy, but if there is someone there, then they better reveal themselves because I was freaked out, really freaked out. I made my way to the kitchen, getting myself a glass of water before heading back up to Dave’s room, the stairs being squeaky were not helping how scared I was though. I walked into Dave’s room and sat on the floor by the bed, Dave was still sound asleep. Like, dead asleep. Until he wasn’t. He groaned and looked at me,

“What’re you still doing up, man, it’s almost 3AM.”

Dave’s POV: October 26th, 1989, 2:50AM

I had just woken up again, I think I could have fallen asleep at around… 10PM? Not too sure, but I woke up. Y/N was sitting next to the bed, they looked scared though, I dunno what they were scared about but hey, at least I wasn’t. Then there… I-... was that a creak? What was that? Holy shit, now I know. I sprung up and went over to the door, opening it and looking down the hallway, there was nothing, no one coming up the stairs, no one walking in the halls, nothing. Y/N was staring at me like I was insane,

“What?”

I said, they just continued looking at me the same way, I just shrugged it off and went downstairs. I walked into the living room and it felt strangely cold. I checked the windows, none of them were open. It was just really cold. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder, I then turned around and looked back and forth, left and right, there was… nothing..? What was that then, a ghost? Unlike my friend, Y/N, I was a strong believer of the supernatural. I was scared, not as scared as they looked though, not at all. I ran back upstairs and opened the door to my room, walking in and looking at them.

“I get why you’re scared now, there’s gotta be something downstairs, it was cold and something touched my shoulder. I dunno man.”

I sounded insane, literally. They cleared their throat

“Where..?”

I inhaled,

“The living room.”

Y/N got up and took my hand, pulling me downstairs. I almost fell down the stairs twice, but as soon as we got downstairs, they took me to the living room.

Y/N’s POV: October 26th, 1989, 3:05AM

I led Dave into the living room, it was cold, he was right, but I didn’t believe that something touched his shoulder. Not at all. I didn’t believe it unless I saw it.

“You’re right, it is cold.”

Dave looked at me like I was a total dumbass.

“Well no shit.”

I sat on the couch while Dave just stood there, looking around the room then back at me, then around the room again. Then there was another creak. Dave and I made eye contact, but there was a darkness in his eyes, like something was trying to quite literally steal his soul. They were already brown but they looked almost black. Then Dave jumped.

“I felt something again, I feel like something’s just fucking with me at this point. If you’re gonna scare me, fucking scare me! If you’re gonna kill me, kill me! Dammit!”

He was. FED. UP. I could tell he was pissed at whatever this thing was. Then, I felt a hand on my shoulder, I looked behind me and around the room, nothing but Dave, but he was nowhere close to me.

“I felt i-”

Dave interrupted me.

“I know, you believe me now?”

I shrugged. I really didn’t, but maybe a bit.

“Just a bit.”

Dave’s POV: October 26th, 1989, 3:15AM

I interrupted them, expecting them to at least believe me a bit, which they did. I left the room and slipped into the kitchen. I looked on top of the cupboard and grabbed a bottle of Jack, pouring myself a shot so I could calm down. I groaned, it burned a lot more going down than usual. I was loathing myself a bit, then Y/N walked in.

“Really, you’re drinking?”

I blinked and looked at them. “Yes, and?”

Y/N looked disappointed in me, 100%, but did I care, no. I lit a cigarette and looked at my hands, I was still shaking and I was scared, pretty scared.

“I thought you were sober, like fully sober.”

When did I ever say that, I can’t recall.

“No..?”

They shrugged and stole the bottle from me, I almost took it back and smashed it on their head but I stopped myself, quickly. I didn’t wanna have to clean it all up and shit y’know. We were just hanging out then all of a sudden, there was this loud, LOUD, bang, then the room went cold, so cold. I inhaled and somehow sputtered out.

“I-I… what was that.”

They looked at me and shrugged, obviously clueless. Y/N basically had zero idea of what was going on, I wasn’t oblivious or anything but I at least had an idea of what was happening. Y/N’s POV: October 26th, 1989, 3:45AM I looked at the clock on the oven, it had been around an hour since this all started. I wasn’t really scared anymore, I was genuinely just confused, really confused, I looked around and then looked out the window. There was someone on our back porch, looking like it wanted inside, I pointed outside then all of a sudden, glass SHATTERED. The person was inside and obviously hungry for blood.

“Dave… DAVE.”

Dave spun around and looked at the unexpected intruder, grabbing the bottle out of my hand and smashing it over its head. Glass flew everywhere as I ducked away, just watching them. They fought, then the person punched Dave in the face, over, and over, and over until Dave gave up and passed out, I was freaked out, watching the person run out of the house.

“I-I… Dave?”

I went over to him and shook his body, scared shitless. Was he okay? Who was this unknown person? Why did they go for Dave and not me? I didn’t know, at all. I shook him more, then he eventually woke up. Dave’s POV: October 26th, 1989, 4:20AM I was breathing heavily, feeling something warm run down my throat, assuming it was blood, I sat up and leaned against the cabinets.

“Holy fuck..”

I panted out, shaking a shit ton as Y/N sat next to me.

“You okay?”

They said as they handed me a kitchen towel for my nose, I held it against my nose and mumbled.

“I guess so…”

#dave mustaine #dave mustaine fanfiction #lucretia #y/n #ghost stories #megadeth #fic #fanfic #my fic #dave mustaine x y/n #angst #long reads #story #megadeth fanfiction #1989 #rip #rust in peace

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alaskarcenciel · 8 months

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ep 15: Nightmare

words : 2548

13th of July, evening

Sam went to bed and fell asleep almost instantly, she never had trouble finding sleep. No, it was quite easy for her, but keeping it was another challenge. Since her kidnapping by Hydra a few months ago, she had a lot of nightmares, and it wasn't getting better. In fact, it was worse and worse since she came back to the compound, reminding her of how disappointing some of the Avengers were thinking she was, how inexperienced she was compared to them. Reminding her how bad it ended the last few times she was here. So no, Sam didn't have trouble falling asleep, but to stay asleep without any nightmare about Zemo and the basement was a real mission, and that's why she usually came to bed the latest possible, because she was scared of what she could see during the night.

That's how, around 2AM, she woke up with this feeling that this nightmare wouldn't be the last one if she stayed in her bedroom. Even before Hydra she had nightmares, and the only thing that really helped her was to sleep with Wanda. Or at least in Wanda's bedroom, since she wasn't here.

That's how, around 2AM, Sam took her stuffed bunny and her plaid and went to Wanda's bed. She always thoughts the witch's smell had something comforting, she was the first to welcome her nicely at the compound, and she even slept a few night with her, the time for the agents to clean what actually was her bedroom, but was used to put all the stuff the Avengers didn't know where else to put before she moved in.

But apparently, sleeping in the witch's bed wasn't enough, because Sam woke up at 4AM, having both a panic attack and a nightmare.

~~~

Natasha Romanoff had nightmares and panic attacks during years after escaping from the Red Room.

That's why, around 4AM, she knew how to calm down Sam who woke her up, screaming in the same bed as she was sleeping. Wanda's bed.

First, Sam started to move a bit. Then faster. Second, she started to breathe faster. Then she panted. Third, she started to talk a bit, whiming. Then louder. Then screaming.

Sam: No. No. NO. I won't tell you ANYTHING. Go to HELL, YOU CAN HIT ME AS HARD AS YOU WANT, I WON'T TELL YOU ANYTHING. I WOULD RATHER DIE THAN HELP YOU.

She was now moving really fast and weirdly, like if someone was actually hitting her. Yelling and screaming in pain, like if someone was actually hurting her.

Natasha turned on the light, and started to shake her by her shoulders, to wake her up.

The french was now with both her hands on her neck, as if someone was trying to strangle her.

Sam finally opened her eyes, without stopping to scream and struggle. Nat caught her shoulders harder to stop her from moving, it wasn't really efficient at first, because Sam was freaking out and tried to escape from her arms. The light wasn't bright enough to let Sam see her clearly.

Nat, trying to comfort her: Sam. Sam! It's over now, it was just a nightmare, it wasn't real, you're at the compound, you're safe, I'm here, and I won't let anyone hurt you, strangle you or hit you, no matter that you're asleep or awake, I'm here and I won't let anyone hurts you, okay? Do you recognize me? It's me, it's-

Sam, weakly and softly: Nat?

She stopped the spy in the middle of her sentence with a scared but relieved voice. Scared because of the nightmare, but relieved someone was here. Relieved Nat was her. Suddenly, she wasn't mad at her anymore. Suddenly, she wasn't moving and screaming anymore.

Natasha smiled. Hearing the young woman calling her like that had something that warmed her heart. For the first time in months, Romanoff was feeling great. Crazy the impact a name could have on someone.

Nat, whispering: Yeah, it's me sweetie, I'm here now, you're safe with me, you know that?

Sam nodded, and put her head on Natasha's shoulder. The ginger hugged the blond woman, and helped her to catch her breath, whispering to comfort her at the same time.

Nat: It's okay, it's over now, you're safe with me.

Sam nodded, silent, her head on the Russian's shoulder, who started to play with her hair to comfort her.

Nat: It was just a nightmare, it wasn't real.

Sam: But it was... Just because it was a nightmare doesn't mean it wasn't real.

She spoke with a tiny voice again. A tiny and tired voice. Not the kind of tired you are when you haven't slept enough, more the kind you have when you're tired of struggling for months against the same shit and monsters hiding in your head. Natasha stepped back a bit from Sam to see her face.

Nat: What do you mean?

Sam didn't answer immediately, she played with her pajamas's sleeves a bit, then tried to speak.

Nat: Sam?

Sam, whispering: It wasn't only a nightmare... It was a kind of... flashback.

Nat: Like a memory which comes back to your mind suddenly?

The French nodded one more time.

Nat, whispering too: You mean it happened before?

Sam nodded again, but couldn't look at her.

Nat: Sam, what happened? When did this happen?

Sam looked at everything else but her, starting to bite her lips. The young woman felt the angst growing inside her chest.

Nat put her hand closer to her jaw, to put her chin between her fingers, but Sam suddenly moved back away, her eyes wider than never, afraid.

Nat: Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.

Sam, softly: No, it's just- Not my chin. Or my jaw. Or my neck. It freaks me out, even if I know you won't hurt me... I'm sorry I just- I can't, I can't.

Her voice broke saying it, tears dropped from both her eyes, and she started to cry loudly.

Nat: Shhh, it's okay, you don't have any reason to apologize, but do you want to explain to me what happened in your... nightmare slash flashback?

Sam didn't answer immediately, trying to find her words.

Sam: You remember when I disappeared for like... a month, then came back here, then everybody fought, then we both fought, then I left?

Nat: Of course I remember sweetie, I said horrible things to you on this day and I will never forgive myself for it.

Sam: That's not the matter here, I mean, my point is that I didn't really explain to anyone all what happened this whole month.

Nat frowned her eyebrows.

Nat: Go ahead, I think you said you took a coffee and woke up tied up on a chair.

Sam: Yeah, I- I was taken by Hydra, and this guy, Zemo, was asking me questions about y'all... and hitting me bad hard whenever I didn't answer. And I didn't answer any of his questions, so he hit me quite a lot during this whole month... Bare hands first, slapping me in the face, punches and kicks then, strangling me next... he even tried a few knives on my legs, he didn't touch my chest or belly, nor my arms, but he took some kind of pleasure on my legs I guess...

Natasha seemed concerned and angry at the same time. Concerned about the young woman, and angry against Zemo, Hydra, all these men who broke her friend during a whole month. Sam didn't deserve to suffer like that. She never deserved to be hurt like that. She always was so sweet and lovely and caring with everyone, always asking how her friends were, and how she could help them feel better. The ginger stayed silent a few seconds after Sam ended her sentence.

Nat: I'm sorry Sam.

And she was, sorry. She was feeling really guilty, they told her so much about family, and trust, and having each other's backs, and no one ever came to help her, letting some sort of psycho torture her for a whole month.

Sam sniffled and Nat saw tears coming back to her eyes, and rolling down her cheeks. The Russian took the French in her arms, and hugged her tight, to make her feel how much she cared about her, how much she loved her, to make her feel safe.

Nat: You didn't deserve this, you don't deserve to be hurt like that.

Sam: Nobody deserves that, and yet...

Nat: Hmm some people don't deserve to be okay, this man, Zemo, for example.

Sam: Even him, he deserves to suffer, but not that much...

Her voice broke on these last words. She really had to suffer too much, Natasha thought.

Nat: You don't deserve to suffer, Sam. You are a lovely person, you are always caring, asking how everyone is doing, trying to help everyone to feel better...

Sam chuckled.

Sam: You can't say that, I've been such a bitch with you recently.

She sniffed.

Nat: Sam...

Sam: I'm sorry, I've been horrible with you, you don't deserve that.

Nat: No, I am sorry, I said so many awful things to you when we fought, just after you came back... You just freed yourself after spending a month being tortured, and I told you we were here, at least Wanda and me, and I suddenly lost it, and I said so many things that were horrible and false, it wasn't even true. I'm sorry, Sam, really, I've been such a bad friend, and then I threatened you friend, I'm sorry, it wasn't even real, I would have done nothing to this poor girl.

Sam smiled.

Sam: Yeah, well, that's definitely not how she felt it.

Nat, whispering: I'm sorry Sam

Sam, whispering too: I know

The bedroom stayed silent for a few seconds.

Sam: I'm sorry, Nat

Nat: I know...

Sam glanced at her, and smiled, the spy smiled back, both were amused by the repetition. Nat put a hand on Sam's hair, and kissed her forehead.

Nat: We should try to sleep a bit, what do you think about it?

Sam looked at her feet, hesitating.

Sam, whispering: Only if I can sleep in your arms.

Natasha looked at her, half surprised and half touched.

Sam: Otherwise I'll just have nightmares again and again...

Her voice was so low, it was hardly audible, even in the silence of the night.

Natasha: It's okay sweetie, I'll be honored to hug you when you sleep, I missed hugging you so much.

Sam: Me too, to be honest, even if I didn't realize it until this night.

Natasha smiled and hugged her tight for a few seconds.

Natasha: How often do you have nightmares? Is this hard like that everytime?

Sam: It happens a lot since the kidnapping, and it's worse since I'm back at the compound. At first it was only nightmares about Zemo, but since you came into my apartment, I had a lot of nightmares about y'all... It's almost every night since I'm back close to y'all for Wanda and the Westview mission.

Natasha: About us?

Sam nodded, uncomfortable with the turn the talk was taking.

Sam: Uhu.

Natasha: What about us? I mean, what's going on the nightmares about us, if you wanna talk about it, of course.

Sam hesitated for a second, afraid to talk about it, like if it was going to make it happen.

Sam: Just... Scenes where we all fight, like when I came back after Hydra, and everyone shouting at me, reminding me how I don't belong here, how inexperienced and useless I am, how much of a burden I am...

Her voice was getting lower and lower at a point she whispered the last words. She sniffled, and wiped away some tears coming lately.

Natasha, her hands still on Sam's hair, made the French look at her.

Natasha: Sam, you're not useless, and you belong here, in this team, on this compound, even if you don't have as much experience as us, experience comes with time, you're young.

Sam looked at everything but her friend, avoiding her gaze.

Sam: Hmm...

Natasha: Sam. Look at me sweetie.

Sam hardly looked at her.

Natasha: You. Are. Not. Useless. And you DO belong here. And you are an amazing partner when you want it, and I care so much about you, I can't lose you one more time cupcake.

Sam blew and put her head against Natasha's neck.

Sam: Sorry but I have trouble believing you're right now.

Natasha: What are you talking about, you just handle Westview almost alone!

Sam: I'm not an amazing partner.

Natasha: When you want it you are, look, with Wanda, or Daisy, or even with Darcy, even though she's not in the team but working for the FBI.

Sam's nose crunched but she nodded, forced to admit the spy was right. She yawned, and the Russian's heart melted.

Natasha: We should really go to sleep, you got training with me at 8am tomorrow.

Sam: Hmmmm can we delay it to 9am? Pleaseee we'll be both too tired to train at 8.

Natasha: You're right, but we need to train being tired, it's a good exercise too.

Sam: I'm not efficient when I'm half asleep Nat'.

Natasha smiled, she really missed being called Nat. And Tasha. God, I missed both of you Sam and Wanda, she thought.

Sam: You know how bitchy I can be when I'm mad, I don't think you wanna see that again...

The French smiled saying this, while the Russian looked offended by the daring of the young woman.

Natasha: Come on, that's not fair!

Sam: Let me sleeeppp pleaaaseeee, I really need a good night, for once.

Natasha: Ok, let's say 9am, but don't you dare to be late!

14th of July, 10am on the morning

Wanda opened up her bedroom's door, and turned on the light. She jumped, seeing two people on her bed.

Wanda: What the hell are you two doing here? Oh god, I don't even wanna know what you've done in MY bed...

Natasha: Oh c'mon we didn't do anything, Sam had a nightmare and came here to sleep because it calmed her down... What time is it?

Wanda: A nightmare, uh? If Sam had a nightmare why are YOU in my bed?

She frowned an eyebrow, amused by the situation.

Wanda: It's 10am by the way.

Natasha: 10? How is that even possible, I set up an alarm before sleeping!

Sam: hmmmm oh hey Wand'

Her voice was weak, not fully awake yet.

Sam: We're late for the training Romanoff...

A big smirk on her face saying this, she sat up and started to arrange her hair.

Wanda: Why are you even both in the same bed? I thought you hated each other?

Natasha: Oh no, I never hated her, she hated me though, but she was alone hating each other.

Wanda frowned her eyebrows and tilted her head on the right, perplexed.

Sam: I wasn't hating you, I was scared by all I would lose if I trusted you one more time and you hurt me again.

Natasha caught her by the shoulders and hugged her.

Natasha: I won't hurt you, I'm sor-

Sam: You're sorry, I know, and so I am, can we both stop saying how much we are sorry to each other?

Natasha smiled and let her stand up to go prepare herself for the training.

Wanda raised both her arms to the sky and rolled her eyes, shaking her head, amused.

Wanda: You're unbelievable, but I'm glad you're talking to each other again. Come on, go to training, Steve is already mad you're late.

Natasha: Oh you saw him?

Wanda: Yeah, he told me he didn't see you two this morning and to give you a lecture whenever I see you.

Sam: Oops, we should go, and fast.

They both left the room, leaving Wanda alone in her bedroom. The witch started to unpack her bag, smiling for herself.

#marvel #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #fanfic #mcu #marvel mcu

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fangirl-creates · 3 years

Text

The Most Unlikely Thing

A Stolitz Wedding One-Shot

Inspired by this lovely art by @sator-the-wanderer on Instagram (Link at the end)

(Note: This is my first time writing with Helluva Boss Characters—I was worried they wouldn’t be in character, but I hope you enjoy!!)

Most would say a night like this would never happen. That it was one of the many outlandish and downright ridiculous thoughts that appeared within the mind of anyone who knew them. If you said it outloud, you’d get a quick laugh out of the person you told, then the subject would be changed in an instant-as if it was never said at all.

Moxxie had that thought once. Right around 2AM he woke up from an uneventful dreamscape, and processed the thought with every ounce of his intellect. Even after that, it still made no sense. He turned to Millie’s side, taking a deep breath before he spoke.

“Millie? Are you awake?”

His wife stirred for a moment, a small yawn before she responded. “Yeah, Moxx?” She mumbled.

“I...had a weird thought..” He sat up, running his hand through his snow-white hair, soon scratching the top of his head.

“What was it?” She sat up a little, both curious and worried about what he might be thinking.

“Well-” He paused for a moment, giving the room a good look around before he continued. If a certain someone was here, listening, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. “It’s about Blitz and uh...Prince Stolas.”

Millie’s golden eyes widened as her tail started swishing like a curious cat. Any worry she had was gone, now she wanted to know all the details surrounding this. “Well?? Don’t keep me in suspense!” She smiled eagerly, shaking him by the arm a little.

“So like...and this is just a hypothetical..” He chuckled, smiling nervously for a quick second. “I just wondered for a second...well..” At this moment their eyes were locked, Moxxie’s face now torn between smiling or frowning. He had no idea what to feel. “Do you think they could ever...end up like us?”

Millie tilted her head, raising a brow. “Ya mean like...married ‘n stuff?”

Moxxie nodded a few times. “Yeah, Yeah! Do you...do you think-?”

She put a hand on her chin. “Well...I don’t think it isn’t possible. I mean...I’m pretty sure...excluding their little agreement...maybe they do like each other..”

“Do they though?” He started to lay down again, now staring at the ceiling. “I mean clearly Stolas likes him to the point where he won’t stop gushing over him. But...Blitz?”

“Who knows, hon. Blitz hardly talks about how he really feels. Maybe he does. And maybe one day they will…” The last thing didn’t sound so sure.

Moxxie turned his head. “But?”

“All relationships are complex, Moxx. And those two? Hell, it could take them years before they even think about something like that. But then again…”

“What?”

“Sometimes the thing you least expect might happen sooner than you think.”

Moxxie blinked a couple times, squinting a bit. “Sooo...you do or you don’t think they could-” He was interrupted by Millie giving him a kiss on the lips. She turned the light off next, shifting back into her sleeping position.

“Goodnight, Moxxie.”

Moxxie sighed, slowly closing his eyes as sleep began to cloud his mind again.

He still couldn’t believe he actually thought that. Although it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, it still surprised him no less. But despite how much he just wanted to forget it, it made him think about what Millie said.

It was true Blitz was starting to show a small glimmer of affection towards the Goetian Prince, especially since the rescue from a few nights ago. The concern and sudden display of power through a demonic transformation was enough to make Blitz gawk at the sight of it. And the way Stolas gently cupped his face asking if he was alright afterwards made everyone else in the room stare, Blitz feeling slightly embarrassed by the whole situation.

Yet it still made him think that maybe...just maybe something like that could happen. But that wasn’t up to him. Whatever they decided would leave this idea, this thought, completely within the hands of faith itself.

And with that, Moxxie fell asleep.

———————

Three years ago, it was never spoken of outside of that one night. And neither of the two had ever acted upon such a decision until much much time had passed. But now the stars were in their favor.

The sky was a dark, beautiful crimson that had mixed with a captivating wine purple. The stars were scattered, dusting the sky and turning it into a dazzling display of twilight.

They had kept it small, the only ones being present were close friends and family—which was basically four people. But it didn’t matter how many people were there, or where they did it. All that mattered was that it happened—which had ended up on the roof of I.M.P’s office building.

The vows had been short, with a few important bits here and there; Moxxie having to be both the one to wed them and the best man to the boss himself. He wasn’t sure he had the exact authority to do so, but both explained it was better than having someone else they didn’t know. Because once this got out, they’d have a whole other thing to deal with. But that was a future problem they would solve when it became relevant to them.

Blitz was given a stepstool so he could reach Stolas without having to stand on the tips of his toes. He didn’t want the stepstool, saying that he’d look like a complete joke. But if Stolas had to lift him up for this part, he would be unable to think clearly from the embarrassment.

Stolas didn’t seem to care how many people were present, or where they decided to host the reception. There was only one thing that mattered in this moment, and the smile of genuine compassion refused to leave his face the entire night. Blitz looking up with him while trying to contain himself only seemed to make him smile more. He was adorable.

Both eagerly waited for Moxxie to finish up, Blitz trying to keep himself from falling off the stool by how much he was moving. Of course he stood perfectly still once he heard the last few words out of Moxxie’s mouth.

“You may now kiss—”

Blitz practically jumped into Stolas’ embrace, quickly locking lips with him as the two slowly started to get lost in intimacy.

The four clapped while giving the newly weds smiles of congratulations. But those quickly faded away when they noticed the two weren’t paying attention anymore. The passionate kissing lasted for almost two minutes before Loona had to break them away from each other.

“Hey, lovebirds. Maybe wait till none of us can see you.” She rolled her eyes, putting Blitz down after basically pulling him off of Stolas.

Blitz put a hand on his head, taking a look around. “Oh shit, I forgot we were doing this.”

Stolas bent over with a light chuckle, booping Blitz’s nose. “-and aren’t you so glad we did, Blitzy~?”

The Imp pushed his face away as he blushed a bit more. “Yeah yeah just…don’t make it a bigger deal than it already is..”

“Looks like someone’s trying to pretend he can’t be romantic for once.” Moxxie smirked, making Blitz turn around in retaliation. His face was now a different form of red.

“Well you know what, Moxxie?! You—!” Then he stopped, biting his lip as he put his accusing finger away. “You…did..a good job…tonight..” He mumbled under his breath.

Moxxie kept smirking, raising a hand to where his ear would be. “Oh, what was that? Could you repeat what you said a little louder?”

Blitz shifted uncomfortably, hoping this was the last time. None of this was like him. And in front of his entire friend circle too!

“You…didagoodjobtonight..” He said it louder as per Moxxie’s request, just a bit faster than normal. Now everyone heard him…however-

“Maybe a little louder…and slower?” He leaned in closer.

“Goddammit, Moxxie! I already held back insulting you just let me have this!” He snapped a little, making everyone else just laugh in response. Moxxie put a hand on his shoulder, his smile genuine.

“Thanks, Blitz.”

———————

The rest of the wedding had lasted a couple hours. Since the group was so small, dancing and talking underneath Hell’s strangely unnatural starlight felt more meaningful.

Eventually, M&M had to leave. But they wished the two best of luck, the wedding present they got the only thing left of them from tonight. Octavia and Loona decided to head inside the office to give their dads space. Now that they were legally sisters, hanging out would feel more genuine. Like you had someone else there looking out for you. Loona now was able to shout anything about being her big sister to anyone who tried to mess with them.

Up on the roof, Blitz and Stolas were laying down on what used to be the tablecloth to the buffet, staring at the stars. Blitz had taken advantage of using Stolas’ chest as a fluffy pillow. It was so comforting, like he could just lay there forever and never get up. But then…something did make him get up. He sat and hugged his knees close, his expression somewhat distraught. His eyes turned briefly to the owl demon, feeling strange.

“Stolas?” He finally broke the silence.

Stolas had already taken note of Blitz sitting up. But he quickly sat up when next he saw his partner’s face.

“What’s the matter, Blitzy? Are you feeling alright?” His questions were genuine, making Blitz feel worse.

“Is this…is this what you want? Do you really want…me?” Something in his voice cracked and that made Stolas’ heart feel a strike of pain.

“Of course I do! Tell me, what brought this on?” He held Blitz’s chin in his hand gently so their eyes met once more.

“It’s…It’s just how we started out. And everything after that…I don’t know why it took me so fucking long to actually admit that I…” He paused. “…felt this way.”

“And?”

“And…I didn’t think that you would actually..! You…You said yes.” His eyes started to water. “Why the hell did you say yes?!”

Stolas pulled him in close, caressing his back. “Because I love you, Blitzy…And you being there all those times, even when I didn’t truly feel this way—it still meant something to me. And I know it meant something to you.”

Blitz let out a crying sound, something he would never do. At least, not in public. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he just felt so vulnerable now…and he hated it. Stolas quickly responded to this by cupping his face and lifting it up so they were at eye level again.

The Imp’s lip was quivering and his eyes were bloodshot enough to almost blend in with his eye color. The tears were staining his cheeks, big droopy ones making him look like an absolute wreck. He looked even more embarrassed now than he did before.

Stolas wiped some of the tears away with one of his hands, a comforting smile. “Oh, Blitzy…do you think we’d really be here if I didn’t feel this way?”

He sniffed, trying to contain himself before he responded. “No..None of this would be…” He took a deep breath. “I guess I’m so used to pushing people away I never thought you’d actually stick around.”

Stolas gave him another kiss, shorter than before, but something about this one felt even more emotional than the last. Something about this one made Blitz want nothing more than to be with him. No matter what his fears were telling him.

“I love you, Blitzy…” It was the third or fourth time he had said it tonight, but this time it felt deeper.

“I love you too, Stolas…” He returned the kiss, both landing back down on the floor.

It was at that moment they refused to let this feeling leave them. For even though the memory of this magical night would fly by, they would never ever forget it.

End.

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#helluva boss #one shot #one shot story #stolas #blitzo #stolitz #fanfic #helluva boss fanfiction

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scxrlettwxtches · 3 years

Text

i’ll be here, always and forever. | lee minho

genre: sick!fic, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, female!reader

warnings: description of migraines

prompt: i called you at 2am because i need you

description: no matter the situation, lee minho would never hesitate to drop everything to come to your aide, even if it was ass o’clock in the morning.

word count: ~2.7k

a/n: im not sure if this was what you wanted anon but i hope it suffices! >.< also, the descriptions of the migraines come from my own personal experience with them, so i hope they aren’t entirely inaccurate. i’ve been struggling with them for a long time now, so this fic was honestly a little therapeutic to write. hope everyone enjoys! love you all! <3

You never liked to bother people.

It was just your personality; asking people for help meant that you were taking up their time, taking up their time meant that you were annoying them, annoying them meant that you were dislikeable. So, to avoid this whole domino effect, you just never bothered people for anything at all.

That began to change when you starting dating Minho.

Lee Minho was an angel and a devil all rolled into one combination package. You couldn’t get one without the other, and to be honest, you didn’t want one without the other. You loved his softer side, his gentle care and affection, but you also adored his rather brash pranks and antics. Life would be boring if he wasn’t trying to annoy you in some way.

Minho was the first person to coax you out of your shell. He was the first person to tell you bluntly:

“You’re not bothering anyone by asking for help, Y/N. If anything, it makes people feel good about themselves when you come to them. It validates them.”

Slowly, you started to accept that as reality. You started to take off days when you weren’t feeling well, started to ask other people to share some of the burden when your asshole of a boss assigned you to the paperwork meant for at least three people because he knew you were a pushover.

But sometimes, Minho’s brash words can push you further into slumps rather than get you out of them.

You hadn’t meant to be pushy. You didn’t mean to nag unnecessarily. You were just worried about him. There was so much pressure that he was shouldering, the weight of the new choreography, having to create it, teach it, and execute it himself. It was affecting his health, and you just wanted to alleviate his burden for a while.

You probably caught him at a bad time. You probably shouldn’t have visited the practice room to drop off some food. You probably said something that just ticked him off the wrong way, or used a tone of voice that wasn’t so sweet because you were truly frustrated by your boyfriend not taking care of himself. You weren’t sure what exactly set him off, but once you did, he lashed out at you in a way he’d never done before.

“God, can’t you see that I’m working?! I don’t need rest! I don’t need food! I need this to be perfect!” Minho snapped, whirling at you like an angry spirit.

Your temper raged, and you retorted, “Minho, I’m just trying to take care of you! Why can’t you see that--”

“You’re such a fucking bother!”

The blood drained from your face as Minho pulled at his own hair in frustration, “W-what?” You asked softly, not quite believing what you were hearing. He wouldn’t say that, right?

“I said, you’re a bother,” Minho spat, his emotions getting the best of him, “You’re always asking me to spend time with you, always wanting me to coddle you. Can’t you do anything yourself for a change?”

His words burned, lashed at you, and wordlessly, you fled the room, tears rolling down your cheeks. You probably should’ve been more rational. Minho was already at high tensions the whole week; you could sense it whenever he came by your apartment, and his members had also messaged you about it. He most likely didn’t mean it.

But as you left the company building, your mind was like your own worst enemy, repeating his words in your head.

A bother. Do something by yourself for a change.

You hadn’t spoken to Minho at all since that awful fight, and neither has Minho opted to contact you. You’d long stopped checking your phone for any missed texts or calls. You’d long stopped replying to the boys who were asking--no, begging--you to come over to the dorms.

It felt like your relationship with him was on the verge of breaking, and you were shattering along with it, too.

Minho let out an annoyed groan when he heard his phone vibrate violently against his bedside time. What time was it? He glanced out the window, seeing nothing but pitch darkness and the minute glow of the stars that managed to shine through the city lights. His eyes darted to the digital clock on the window sill and he scoffed in disgust.

Great, someone was calling him at 2:14 am.

He wanted to ignore it. Why does he have to answer a phone call at two in the fucking morning?

But there was something weird about the whole thing, and outside of his better judgement, he groaned, grabbing the phone and picking it up without even glancing at the caller ID, ready to give whoever was calling at that hour a piece of his mind.

“Who the fuck--”

“Minmin?”

Minho felt his heart sink down to the floor at the sound of your voice, and the guilt flooded every inch of his being.

“Y/N?” He asked, immediately alert as he sat upright in bed. He didn’t like the tone of you voice. Even through the speaker, he could tell immediately that something was wrong. And the fact that you were even willing to call him, meant that things must’ve been dire.

“I-I’m so sorry to bother you--” You croaked out, and Minho wanted to cry at how nervous you sounded. It was his fault. It was all his fault, “I-I just--I thought--never mind…”

“No, no, baby. Please,” Minho panicked like he never panicked before as he heard shuffling from the other side of the phone, sounding like you were about to hang up, “My angel, don’t hang up, please. I’m not angry. I’m not annoyed. Could you please talk to me, baby? Tell me what’s going on?”

His voice as gentle and soothing as he could make it, his only priority being to calm you down. Your breath hitched at his words, and he let out a silent sigh of relief as you didn’t end the call.

“My head feels like it’s going to s-split in half--I keep seeing spots in my vision, a-and I feel like throwing up,” you said shakily, letting out a whimper of pain as you spoke which sent Minho into another tizzy of panic. He was already well out of bed, pulling a sweater over his head while simultaneously trying to keep his phone pressed against his ear.

“I’m coming, baby, don’t worry, okay?” He cooed, continuing to calm you down as he waved off Chan’s concerned glance. Of course that man wasn’t sleeping yet.

“W-what?” Your voice broke in confusion as the reception crackled, the way it always did when Minho left the dorms and switched to cellular instead of wifi, “N-no, you don’t have to--I don’t even know why I-I called--”

“My angel,” Minho stopped in his tracks as he took a deep breath, “I’m coming over because I’m worried. Because I want to take care of you. Because I want to hold you, and I want to tell you in person how fucking sorry I am.”

You were completely silent, and for a moment, Minho feared that he had royally screwed up by bringing up such a clearly painful memory when you were already in pain. Then, a rustle of bedsheets sounded through the phone, and your soft, weak voice came through.

“Do you still have the key to the a-apartment or do I need to open the door for you?”

Minho felt the weight and worry in his chest loosen at your words, “You don’t have to do a single thing, baby,” he reassured you, skipping two steps at a time as he rushed down the stairs, too hurried to even stand waiting for the elevator.

He burst out of his apartment complex and immediately began sprinting towards your building, which was a ten minute walk away. He was always glad that you were close by, but in the moment, you were ten minutes too far. These were ten precious minutes that he was wasting when he could be already by your side.

“How bad is it, angel?” Minho asked as he ran down the street, haphazardly putting on his mask as he held his phone to his ear with the other hand.

You took a moment to respond, letting out another whimper of pain that caused Minho’s heart to twist, “R-really bad. Like a 9,” you croaked out, sounding immensely distressed.

Minho cursed under his breath and ran faster, “Alright, kitten. It’s going to be okay. Put me on speaker and put the phone under your pillow, okay? You shouldn’t be looking at any screens.”

He heard the rustling of the bed sheets and the sounds began to muffle, “Keep me on the phone and make a noise if anything gets worse. I’ll be there as soon as I can angel. As soon as I can,” he promised, and he ran like his life depended on it.

Minho made the ten minute travel time into a record of five minutes, almost crashing into your door as he fumbled for his keys. The key to your place was on the chain right beside his, because he never wanted to break your trust and lose them accidentally. He unlocked the door and burst into your apartment, blinking to adjust to the darkness.

All of the lights were off, which was to be expected. You were always incredibly sensitive to it when your migraines hit, and Minho did his best to navigate through the hallway using the dim glow of his phone to guide him.

He knew he’d succeeded in making it to your bedroom when his ears caught muffled whimpers of pain. He hung up the phone and gently creaked open your door, “Baby?”

From the city lights outside your window, he could see a lumpy figure underneath your duvet covers, and his heart ached as he made his way towards you. You were still awake from what he could tell, and the lumpy ball squirmed and wiggled underneath the sheets as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Angel, I’m here,” he cooed as softly as possible, his hands tentatively reaching to rest along what was probably the curve of your waist. You only whined, muffled noises of agony coming through the covers, and Minho took it as a green light. You were like putty in his arms as he gently guided your body along with his, maneuvering you until you were safely curled up in his lap, your head resting against his chest.

“You really came,” you murmured, and Minho tried not to feel hurt by the disbelief that colored your voice.

Instead, he swallowed his pride, because he knew he deserved the disbelief, “I came, darling. Everything’s going to be okay now,” he reassured you, his fingers buried in your soft hair as he hummed softly.

You shifted your head, probably to nod at his words, but even that slight movement aggravated your headache, and a choked sob bubbled out of your throat. Minho immediately held you tighter, and one of his hands reached for yours, pressing down on the pressure point between your thumb and forefinger.

“Oh, angel, how could you let it get this bad?” He mumbled mostly to himself as you began to calm, the throbbing against your temple receding as Minho squeezed the pressure point. Vaguely, you wondered how he was able to remember that spot so easily, especially since you only recalled showing him once.

“B-been having headaches for d-days,” you replied shakily, nestling into his chest. Minho immediately felt you shift closer and took the opportunity to hold you even closer, bundling you in the blankets as he propped himself up against the headboard, “Didn’t want to take s-so many painkillers...but it hurts, Min…”

Minho wanted nothing than to sock your migraines in the face, but doing that would mean hurting you. So, he could ultimately do nothing but hug the living daylights out of you, wishing that your pain would go away.

He tisked, massaging the pressure point soothingly as he kissed your hair, “Days? Why didn’t you tell me? You know you can barely get out of bed when you have migraines. Have you even been eating?”

The worried questions tumbled out of Minho’s mouth as he fretted over you like a mother hen. He knew how debilitating these headaches were for you, especially on the worst days. Every movement you made would aggravate them, and there were even a couple times that Minho was on the verge of forcing you to go to the hospital. Just thinking about you being in such a dangerous state alone scared Minho more than he could stomach.

Before he could continuing worrying, your next words lashed at him like knives to the heart, “T-thought you wanted space. Don’t wanna bother you, Min...You’re s-so busy already. How could I burden you even more?”

If Minho was ever had to identify the most heartbreaking moment of his life, this would be way up there as a top contender. He never meant to do this. He never meant to make you feel like you weren’t worthy of his time.

“Angel, I know this is a bad time,” he said, his voice raspy and low as he held you to him. You could feel the vibrations of his chest as he spoke, and you nestled into the safety he provided.

“I know this is a bad time, but I need to tell you. I’m so fucking sorry for that day,” Minho continued, holding you as if he was afraid you’d leave, that you’d walk out of his life, “I don’t have any excuses. I was frustrated with myself and I took it out on you.”

You’d known this. You’d known all of this, of course. But hearing these very words come out of his mouth made them more real, and the knot of unease and self-hatred that coiled around your heart began to loosen.

“I know you were just looking out for me. I know you were just trying to care for me, a-and I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am for you,” Minho spoke, every word laced with regret and guilt as he continued.

“You’re not a bother. You’re not at all. You’re the farthest away from a bother. You’re perfect. You’re so kind and gentle and loving and beautiful,” The poor man was rambling at this point, lost in his love for you as you gently shifted your hand to rest over his.

As always, it was your touch, your presence that grounded him back to reality, and he took a deep breath, brushing his lips against your temple, “‘M sorry. Didn’t mean to go off on a tangent,” he said sheepishly. Fuck, he couldn’t even apologize correctly.

But you only smiled, rubbing his hand with your thumb as you murmured, “Silly, Minmin...I don’t blame you for anything. It’s okay. Thank you for apologizing.”

Minho let out a broken sigh of relief as he cradled you in his arms, kissing your hair, your cheeks, your nose, your lips, anywhere he could.

“I love coddling you, you know?” He mumbled, kissing you again and again, “You’re my baby, my precious angel. You always take such good care of me, always making me remember my roots when I get caught up in my own work. I want to be that for you, too. I wanna hold you every night and make you happy.”

You giggled at his words, not daring to nod in case your headache got worse, but you very subtly pressed a light kiss to his jaw, “Love you…” you mumbled, “You already make me happy.”

Minho felt his heart soar your simple words, and they brought him a happiness he never thought he’d experience, or even want to experience. Taking note of your drooping eyes and the way your hand was relaxing in his, he stayed silent, only humming under his breath to help you sleep.

When he saw you had dozed off, he attempted to position you on the bed so he could do some house chores for you. The moment he shifted you, though, a cry left your lips and your fingers blindly gripped at his shirt, “N-no--”

“I’m here, angel. I’m here,” Minho immediately held you again, burying his face in your soft locks as he cradled you to his chest, “I’m here.”

You were still half asleep, mumbling fitfully as his fingers massaged your temple, “P-please stay,” you murmured, curling into his arms.

Minho felt his heart ease as you fell asleep, and under the starlight and the darkness of your bedroom, he murmured his response, sure and true.

“Always.”

#inkidz #districtninewriters #stayhavennet #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #lee minho scenarios #lee minho imagines #lee minho blurbs #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz blurbs #skz x reader #my fics

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infinitefandomimagines · 3 years

Text

Things the hq boys secretly love pt. 2

WARNINGS: language

—

CHARACTERS: Oikawa Tooru, Kita Shinsuke, Tendou Satori, and Terushima Yuuji

—

part 1 , part 2

OIKAWA TOORU

• when you put makeup on him / use him as a canvas to practice looks.

• you would do it on yourself, but it's easier to follow along with the tutorials when doing it on someone else. plus it gives you an excuse to spend time with and be close to your boyfriend.

• oikawa will literally complain non-stop about how he doesn't want you prodding at his face with brushes and how all the products will make him break out. but the second you do a new look without practicing on him first he's offended.

• because no matter how much he claims to hate it, he secretly loves it. the brushes feel so soft and ticklish against his skin, and your touch is always so gentle and warm. plus, he's more than happy with the proximity between the two of you.

• as a comprise for letting you do this, you let him lay on his back on your shared bed (the lighting isn't great but at least he's comfy). you'll splay out your products around the empty bed space and then perch yourself on top of him, straddling his hips. you'll get super close to his face, bending down to hover over him, the palm of your non dominant hand pressed against his chest to steady yourself

• he's lowkey scared you'll feel how fast his heart is beating, but you never mention it.

• your face is mere inches away from his and he takes full advantage of this, stealing little kisses from you when you're least expecting it.

• also loves to rest his hands on your hips, playing with the hem of your shirt, finger tips lightly grazing the skin beneath.

• mf thinks its funny to poke your sides randomly to make you jump

• "tooru– keep doing that and i'll actually stab you in the eye."

• spoiler alert: he keeps doing it and you do end up stabbing him in the eye (accidently ofc)

• after you're done, he'll let you take as many photos of the look as you want. he even takes a few for himself because he's proud of your work and wants to show it off to iwa later.

• lowkey feeling himself

• if you thought this man's ego was big before hand...

• "i look pretty hot, don't i y/n–chan? i think blue is really my color."

—

KITA SHINSUKE

• when you take care of and baby him, especially if he's sick.

• he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and both of you know that. mf is literally one of the most responsible people ever.

• but something inside of him just … melts when you dote over him.

• this usually happens when you can tell he's had a long and tiring day, or on he rare occasion he gets sick.

• you'll cook for him, give him a little massage, cuddle him, help him bathe, do his chores, anything to alleviate some of the stress weighing on him.

• his favorite thing ever is when you let him lay his head in your lap. will fall asleep in five minutes flat when you start playing with his hair.

• literally the second he tries to do anything you're glaring at him with your arms crossed over your chest, telling him to get back to bed before he makes his fever any worse.

• he'll insist that he's fine and can make his own soup / do his own chore work but will cave so quickly when you don't give up.

• man barely puts up a fight anymore, just let's you do your thing and accepts his fate.

• almost like he wants to be taken care of … suspicious.

• kita is a pretty self sufficient person, but he has to admit, it just feels nice to have someone care for him so tenderly. it shows how much you care for him.

• he likes to act all put together and stoic but his insides are complete mush when it comes to you.

• won't admit how much he secretly loves it, but he's sure to let you know how appreciative he is of you taking care of him. will never let your efforts go unnoticed or without praise.

• (but maybe don't baby him in public, poor boy gets so flustered and embarrassed)

• and don't think for one second that when the roles are reversed, and you're the one who's sick or tired, that he's gonna let you lift a single finger.

—

TENDOU SATORI

• when you show him off in public or to your friends.

• the first time tendou met your friends was when you unexpectedly ran into them at a coffee shop while the two of you were on a date. you ran up and greeted them while tendou kept his distance, not sure if you'd want to introduce him.

• poor baby still has some insecurities left over from his childhood and thinks you wouldn't want to be seen with a "freak" or that somehow you'd be ashamed of dating him.

• baby boy could not be more wrong, you are so proud to be dating him.

• one second you're talking to your friends and the next you're dragging him over by his wrist to meet them.

• literally stands there like he's suddenly ushijima, just: 🧍‍♂️

• but then you lace your fingers with his and press and soft kiss to his cheek before you say, "guys this is who i was telling you about, my boyfriend, tendou!"

• now tendou has never been one to get flustered easily, but right now he's blushing like a madman. his heart swelling when you so eagerly introduced him as your boyfriend.

• and then your friends start saying things like "we've heard so many things about you" and "y/n talks about you a lot"

• he can feel his confidence growing by the second. even after your friends walk away, he's still riding the high of being bragged about.

• "you talk about me?"

• "duh, why wouldn't i? you're the best boyfriend anyone could ever ask for, 'tori."

• he swears he falls in love all over again right then and there.

• please continue to show him off, it makes him so unbelievably happy, even more so when you're not afraid to use pda with him.

• i just know this man loves pda

• used to be really hesitate when it came to pda in the beginning of your relationship. but, once he saw how unbothered you were when it came to being affectionate in public he started to get bolder.

• he loves having his arm wrapped around your waist or his hand in your back pocket at all times.

• he's never told you, but you've helped him gain a lot of confidence and see himself as more than a "monster" or "freak."

—

TERUSHIMA YUUJI

• when you call or text him at 2am to go get food with you.

• it's become a common occurrence and at this point he expects to hear from you at least three nights out of the week. he's even started leaving his phone on full volume to make sure hears your call or text.

• will always respond.

• literally the second he gets that "you up? i'm hungry." text he's already grabbed his keys and is out the door.

• sometimes you feel guilty for waking him up, but he always says something like "i was awake anyways" or "i'm kinda hungry too, perfect timing."

• terushima yuuji was in fact neither awake nor hungry.

• but he'll be damned if you ask someone else

• one time you went a week without asking him to go and mf got so butthurt. was all like: "babe are you cheating on me? are you asking other people to take you to get food? i thought you loved me." (doesn't actually think you're cheating, he just likes being dramatic).

• he loves blasting music while you both sing at the top of your lungs with the windows down on your little convince store trips.

• it's just a miniscule little moment but it's makes his heart happy every time.

• 2am chats with terushima yuuji are next level, you can't convince me otherwise.

• sometimes when the two of you are too riled up from your trip to go back to bed, you'll find a park to eat and mess around at.

• the cops may or may not have been called once for a noise complaint.

• after your little night trips he'll usually bring you back to his place and you'll end up staying the night, giving him cuddles as a sort of thank you.

• even though he teasingly complains about you dragging him out, claiming "you owe me." he loves going out with you and would never even dream of making you pay him back.

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nat-20s · 3 years

Text

for @jonmartinweek THE FINAL DAY prompt- Pining/Longing. This one takes place, well, you’ll see

~*~

A Study of Longing, Told in Six Parts

Part 1

Martin wonders if he’ll ever get to a point in his life where kindness doesn’t feel like a shock to the system. It’s already surprising enough when Tim and Sasha invite him for drinks in a genuine offer of friendship, but for that kindness to come from Jon? Martin has no idea what to do with being believed, let alone being protected.

And now here he is, blearily opening his eyes only to find himself staring at a mass of hair. As he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes, the shape resolves into the form of one Jonathan Sims. He had apparently fallen asleep with his head cushioned on his arms, against the cot Martin was currently occupying. It’s not an image that Martin can fully process at the moment, so instead he debates whether or not to wake Jon up or quietly get off the cot to let him get some much needed sleep. He decides on the former, both thinking that it would be hell on his back to keep sleeping in that position, and that he would like an explanation.

Hand hovering above Jon’s shoulder, but not fully touching, Martin oh so quietly calls out, “Jon?”

That’s all it takes for Jon’s head to rush up with a gasp, glasses askew, and with the texture of his sleeves pressed in red marks on his face. It is a horribly endearing look. “Hrn?”

Martin opens his mouths, closes it, and waits for Jon to get his bearings. Jon smooths down his (frankly ridiculous) sweater-vest, adjusts his glasses, and slips back on his professional demeanor. “My apologies, Martin, I, ah, must have fallen asleep.”

Glancing to the crappy little digital clock resting on a file box next to him, Martin rolls his eyes. Only Jon could be quite so stuffy at 4:32 in the morning. “No apologies needed. Though, um, was there? Something you needed or..?”

Jon shakes his head and stands up, dusting off imaginary grime. “No, no, nothing like that. I had just, er. I had heard you cry out and I- I wanted to make sure nothing was going on. It appears that it simply a nightmare,so I will be.. taking my leave. Now.”

He doesn’t know what part of himself replies, “Oh! You don’t have to go!,” but he replies it anyway. Jon does that little thoughtful frown at him, which forces him to continue, “I mean, if you wanted the cot. For sleeping. I’ll probably be awake for the rest of the night, so, you know, no skin off my back .”

“Ah. No, that’s quite alright, Martin. Try to get some more sleep, there’s still a long work day ahead.”

Jon doesn’t even wait for a response before turning on his heel and leaving. Martin sort of hates how much he wanted him to stay.

Part 2

Jon is laughing. Jon is terrified, all the damn time, and yet, somehow, he’s laughing. Honestly, he was starting to wonder if he was still capable of it. Martin is gesticulating wildly with his fork, animated in a way that Jon’s only ever seen when in they’re in the middle of a rather silly debate. He thinks this lunch’s topic was something like whether or not snakes were cute? He lost the thread of conversation about half an hour ago, honestly. Covering his mouth, he lets the giggles run through his whole body, shaking his shoulders and heating his core. He feels light, heady, like he’s reminiscing with an old friend and they’re both on the edge of having had too much to drink.

He only wishes he could trust this feeling. He wishes that he could trust Martin, that they were normal coworkers having a normal lunch, that the previous person in Jon’s position had gone into an easy retirement instead of being violently murdered. He wishes he hadn’t read that letter telling him, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Martin, Martin, who took him to lunch and brought him tea and seemed so very warm in so very cold circumstances, was lying to him.

Jon stops laughing.

Part 3

Of course, the second his body hits the simultaneously stiff and weirdly lumpy motel mattress, his phone goes off. It may only be about 8 pm, but he’s tired, and he’s sore, and he’s had a persistent headcold for the past week for some unholy reason, the last thing he wants to do is talk. However, only about four people have the number to the burner cell, and they’re almost certainly have a purpose behind their call.

Closing his eyes and letting out a sigh that turns into more of a groan, he picks up on the 4th ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Jon! It’s Martin, I’m not sure if you have my number programmed in that phone, or if it even has caller ID if you do. Anyway, it’s been about a week since I’ve heard anything, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t, y’know, dead or arrested or anything.”

His previously tense and aching muscles all relax, without him consciously deciding to relax them, and a sleepy smile spreads across his face, because some time in the past year he’s become a parody of himself. Yes, maybe he should be more affronted by how much Martin’s tinny voice brings him comfort, but he’s had a rather terrible time of things since...since he began work in the archives, really, and he’s worn down enough that he can admit he misses his friend.

Huh. Friends. They are, aren’t they? Wonder when that happened. (He can guess, something involving a fake CV admission, but he doesn’t feel like it right now.) “Martin, I recognize your voice, no need to introduce yourself.”

“Right! Yes, uh, ‘course..of course you can. Right. Sooo...I take it you’re not dead, then.”

“Correct. I haven’t been arrested, either.” It’s only sort of a comforting lie, so Jon thinks it can be forgiven.

“Good. Great! Yeah, that’s...that’s good.”

The conversation could probably end there. Jon could probably tell Martin good night, and they’d hang up, and Jon could get the sleep he had been so desperately craving not moments ago. Somehow, he thinks that neither of them want that. Scrambling for something to talk about, Jon replies, “Hang on, isn’t it something like 2am over there?”

“It...might be.”

“Martin!”

“What! It’s not like you have a monopoly on bad sleeping habits. Besides, I was up anyway, and I just..”

“Just what?”

“I just missed your voice.”

Oh. Heat rushes to his cheeks, and tears start to prick at the corners of his eyes, and god. He had missed Martin’s voice too. “Really? I know you’ve had to listen to a fair number of tapes lately, thought you might be sick of it by now.”

“No. I mean, I am a bit tired of tapes, honestly, but even the ones that you recorded, that not really your voice, is it? I mean it is, but it doesn’t sound like you when you’re actually, um, you. I wanted..I wanted to hear you.”

Jon’s far too worn out to deal with that sentiment, and the way that it makes his heart clench. So instead of addressing it, he says, “I am very close to being asleep.”

“Oh. Right, sorry, I’ll let you go-”

“No! No. Um. Would you mind staying on the line? Until I’m gone? I-I like hearing your voice. As well.”

“Oh! Sure, yeah, definitely. Anything in particular you want me to talk about?”

“Whatever you like. Something nice?”

“All right. I can do that. Um. Did I tell you about this little yarn shop I found the other day. It’s called ‘Puttin’ on the knitz’, and it’s…”

Jon peacefully drifts off, listening to the voice of the man who he can only admit in moments such as these, he wishes was in this bed, laying beside him.

Part 4

please come back please come back for the love of god come back I can’t believe you’re doing this do you have any idea how stupid this is come back to me come back come back come back

Part 5

There is plenty of things to long for in the apocalypse. A decent cuppa. The relief of actual sleep. Murdering Jonah Magnus. For there not to be a apocalypse. They are grateful, however, to not have to long for each other.

Part 6

Martin comes to without a knife in his hand, or bloodstains on his clothing. Those, under other circumstances, would be good things.

Martin comes to, laying in the grass, without anyone beside him. He barely has the moment to feel agony spike through him before he’s out once more.

There are no Jonathan Sims admitted to the hospital. As far as he can tell, no one was admitted into the hospital at the same time as him, and certainly no one with a stab wound.

There are thousands of ‘Jonathan Sims UK’, typed desperately into a library computer search bar, wielding mostly results about a sport manager and a romance novelist. None of the images are of the right person.

Sometimes Martin puts one foot in front of the other, carefully blank in heart and head. Surviving, even during times that he’s not sure he wants to, is one of his greatest abilities.

Sometimes Martin despairs.

On the worst nights, he tries to call the Lonely back to him, tries to be swallowed whole. It never works. He’s not sure if it’s because the fears aren’t in the reality or if they’re not established enough to have any leverage or if his connection has simply been broken. (He doubts the last reason. He hasn’t been this alone since Tim’s funeral. Even then, Melanie had thrown a few stilted condolences towards him. No one is aware enough of him to give condolences now. He misses Melanie. He misses all of them. He misses Jon like a gaping, bleeding wound misses skin.)

Seven months later, and he has enough money saved and identity built that he moves on to Scotland. The little village they had been adjacent to exists in this reality. Daisy’s cottage does not.

On a whim, he enters the yarn shop. He’s not going to pick anything up, hobbies are the last thing he can focus on, but it’s nice to look. To feel the various textures, to take in the rich variance of colors, to, hopefully be present in his own body, if only for a moment.

Martin steps in. The bell chimes. He’s there. Standing in front of him. Whole. In a cry that’s closer to a gasp, he calls out, “JON!”

Jon turns, looks up at him, recognizes him even before he’s even fully seen him. It’s his Jon, he’s here he’s here he’s here. The callback of “MARTIN!” sounds like it was punched out of him, the start of a sob and a laugh all at once.

In a blink, they’re together, their embrace a tangle of limbs, a collision of lips, a mixture of tears. Martin can’t tell which of them is saying the litany of “thank god thank god thank god” and who’s repeating “it’s you it’s you it’s you.”

It’s Jon that’s telling him, “I knew you had to be here. I knew it, because I kept thinking. Surely. Surely this new universe wouldn’t be so cruel as to allow me to live, but to make me live without you.”

It’s Martin that replies, “I didn’t know. I thought it would be that cruel. Please don’t make me go through that again.”

Jon pulls him in tighter, eliminating the centimeter of space between them. Speaking into Martin’s neck, whispered in fierce devotion, Jon promises, “Never again. Never again. You and me. Together. For the rest of our lives.”

Barely discernible through his sobbing, Martin tells him, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

~*~

There are people that think that wanting is more worthwhile than having. Martin thinks, frankly, that those people have never been in love.

#jonmartinweek2021 #jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #AHHH this is just over TWO THOUSAND words #i really was like for the last prompt i will not Shut Up lmao #also fun fact! part 4 was specifically designed to not be clear whether it was from jon or martins perspective

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savoryscribbles · 3 years

Text

Home is Something You Make

This is a Kaeya fic from someone who doesn't like Kaeya all that much.

Parings: Kaeya x gn!reader, platonic!Kaeya x Rosaria

Content/trigger warnings: you aren't the traveler,pretty sappy ngl, I've realized I suck at dialogue so just, ignore it.

Kaeya doesn't use his house. If you've know him for long enough, this is a fact. However, what isn't as obvious, is Kaeya let's other people use his house, use his bed, bathroom, kitchen, etc.

His friends without homes, the traveler, Klee, Rosaria, anyone who needs it, can crash at his place whenever they need to. That's why he keeps it clean. It's why his master bathroom has collected dust but not his guest bedroom.

He is far to busy to use his own house. More often he's found stumbling into his house at 2am, crashing on the couch because he knows both beds are likely taken.

He meant to tell you of this predicament. But could never find the right time to bring it up. He knew you slept in late, you worked at night anyways. He knew if you were to ever sleep over, you would definitely run into someone that wasn't him. And he would have to awkwardly explain how a 6 foot tall vampire lady was upset you were sleeping in his bed. The bed that has the thick memory foam, and the silk sheets, the one both you and Rosaria are upset Kaeya doesn't use more often.

When he did eventually ask you over for dinner, he made sure everyone was out of the house before hand, much to their surprise.

He cooked you a nice dinner, and put up the front he felt he had to. He never meant to get this far with you actually. Rosaria had suggested he mess around with the hookup scene, telling him it would help relive stress. Only he doesn't think he did it right, because now he's in a relationship, one he doesn't want to get out of. One night stands had a key word, one night only this had lasted far more than that.

He was scared about a lot of things. He was waiting for you to find out his secrets and leave him, like anyone he'd tried to date before. But he didn't want you to leave, so he tried his best to hold that day off as long as he could.

When morning came Kaeya found it hard to get up. On any other day the sun would have bothered him enough to get ready, the dread of the days work enough for him to be on time. But you were next to him, and the annoying sun didn't look so annoying when it rested on your face, and how could anyone feel dread when they're with their love? So instead of getting ready, Kaeya opted to rest against you awhile longer.

Then he checked the time, and oh shit I have 15 minutes to get ready and he rushed out the door, forgetting to tell you about his other guests.

Something he also forgot to mention to said guests, was you. It wasn't like Kaeya was trying to keep you a secret. It's just that, a famous wondering traveler, a coldhearted vampire church lady, and a toddler who loves bombs can be very intimidating. And so he pushed introducing you to them out of his mind.

So both party's were unaware of each other's presence, that was until you had a polearm to your throat.

"Who are you? And why are you in the Calvary Captains house?" Rosaria stated in her usual harsh tone.

This had startled you awake. Not knowing who she was either. "I'm (y/n)? I, who are you?" Was the response you gave in the mists of rubbing sleep from your eyes, not even batting one at the weapon still hugging your throat.

"It doesn't matter who I am. You're in this house when you shouldn't be, so you need to leave." Rosaria didn't actually care who you were, all she knew is you were not on Kaeya's guest list.

"Huh? Kaeya invited me here though? We had dinner last night, and it was late by the time we finished, so he let me stay over." You tried to explain, you didn't know why Sister Rosaria was in Kaeya's house, they could be a couple, they could be friends, she for all you knew, could be raiding his house. However the latter seemed unlikely. She seemed to know she was allowed here, hence why she was questioning why you were here.

"Oh, so you're one of his one night stands? Still, there's no reason you should have stayed this long." Rosaria reluctantly withdrew her weapon, knowing you weren't likely to cause harm.

"Not really? I mean, I'm not sure what me an Kaeya are, but it's definitely not that." You laughed nervously, surely she should know about you if you were anything serious to Kaeya right? "We've gone of a couple dates, he's even been to my house, this is the first time he's invited me over to his though." You finished your explanation as you started to realize just how weird this predicament was.

"Hmph, alright then, but just so you know. If I find out you're lying, I'm not as merciful as the other sisters." She responded, walking out the door.

Kaeya had some explaining to do.

***

Kaeya realized halfway through his day that he forgot to warn you about his friends. So he tried to get home as quickly as possible, or at least before you left for work.

Luckily he made it, barely though. He caught you as you were getting dressed, but not before getting stopped by Rosaria.

"Hey just so you know, there's someone in there claiming they've 'gone on a couple dates with you' I left them alone, but if their lying I'll take care of them." She said from her position on the couch.

"Hm? There's no need, they're telling the truth, I actually need to talk to them, so excuse me." Kaeya responded before quickly walking to his bedroom.

"Oh, hello there. Um, there was a lady, I'm pretty sure she was sister Rosaria? But she put her polearm up to my throat, telling me I didn't belong here? I'm not sure what that was about." You laughed lightly when you saw him.

"I know, I'm sorry, so sorry. I meant to tell you, there's more people who stay here actually." He muttered the last bit. "I was just in a rush this morning."

"I have friends who stay over, they don't exactly, have anywhere else to stay? I'm not sure, it's not my business to pry, but I let them stay whenever they need to. So if we're going to do, this," he gestures towards himself then you, "more often, I should probably warn you about that."

"Ooohh, okay, that's fine, actually that's very sweet of you Kaeya. Just a warning would have been nice, on both ends actually. A Polearm to the throat isn't the most peaceful ways to wake up." You point out with a chuckle, and he joined you.

After the laugher died down he took you in his arms and kissed you before muttering "I'm glad you understand."

***

"Getting sappy huh captain?" Rosaria stated as he closed the door behind you.

"Hm, maybe." He thought pensively.

"This isn't what I meant by a hookup." She retorted back.

"Oh I know, I have a knack for messing things up, though I'm sure you know that." He responded, looking into her eyes.

"They seem... nice, to nice almost. They didn't even bat an eye when I put my spear to their throat." She pointed out before yawning.

"They're like that, not afraid of weapons when they know the confrontation can be handled with words, even if the other party doesn't want to use them." He explained, how he knew is a story for another time.

"Hm respectable. You seem to like them a lot, otherwise you wouldn't have brought them over." She quipped.

"Yeah, they. Yes, they mean a lot to me." Kaeya said.

And he realized his house wasn't a home until you walked in.

#kaeya #kaeya x reader #genshin #gensin impact #kaeya alberich #kaeya fluff #genshin fluff #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x reader #rainbowwritings

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imagine-that-100 · 3 years

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Why No Answer?

Description: Alex Turner x Reader (Female) | You’re woken up in the middle of the night to find Alex drunk and high on your doorstep. Looking after him proves to be a tiring and revealing ordeal.

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: This was requested by an Anon. I really hope you enjoy it, I basically turned it into an aftermath of the Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High? music video. If anyone hasn’t seen it, if so why not I’d recommend watching that first. This was so so so much fun to write. Likes and Reblogs are appreciated but honestly I’d love to know what you all think of this one. Really hope you enjoy it and thank you so much for reading x

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~*~*~*~ January 1st 2013 ~*~*~*~

“Alex?” You question, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you” Alex smiles at you walking into your house confidently, but his eyes were heavy.

It was New Years Eve, well now it was early New Years Day, and you’d opted for a night with your friends instead of a night with the boys. You knew they were going out in Hoxton but you and your friends were staying near Finsbury.

You lived not too far from the park and you’d got home around 2am as the shots that you’d been doing earlier had got to you. All you wanted to do was crawl into bed, so that’s what you ended up doing.

But after waking up hearing constant knocking on your door, you saw 17 missed messages from Alex flash up on your phone. You saw the last saying that he was outside so the nerves you were feeling from who was at your door immediately dissipated.

Along with those messages, you saw one from your neighbour across the road saying that she thought a guy ‘around your age’ was asking for you. You were going to bully him for that tomorrow.

You also saw that you had an abundance of missed calls too so you made a hunch and sent him a text to let him know you were awake.

Why’d you only call me when you're high?????

After he made it into your house you quickly shut the door behind him and shook your head at the wasted man stumbling in your hall. “Alex it’s almost five”

He turns to you then and his heavy brown eyes meet your Y/E/C ones. He grabs your hand and brings you towards him. He tells you, “Yeah but it’s New Years and I wanted to wish you happy new year”

“I was asleep Al” You say when his hand comes up to cup your cheek.

Alex grins at you then and you see his eyes run down your body. You hold your breath as he does but when his eyes meet yours again he makes your cheeks go hot when he says, “You look really pretty in your pyjamas”

You shake your head at the pretty boy standing in your hall with the perfectly styled hair, the chiseled jawline and the leather jacket sitting on his body making him even more attractive than he already was.

“Aren't you happy to see me, babe?” Alex says with a bit of a confused look on his gorgeous face.

“Alex” You chuckle finding the pet name amusing. You also stop his thumb from stroking your cheek.

Instead you take his hand and pull him into your kitchen.

As he stumbles behind you he says, “I’ve been calling you”

“Why?” You say, letting go of his hand so you can get him a glass of water.

“What do you mean ’why’?” You hear him ask as you fill a pint glass with water for him. “Your my friend, I wanted to talk to you and wish you a Happy New Year”

You turn to him and hand him the water and cheerily say, “Happy New Year Al. Drink up”

He does as you said and you’re actually grateful when he downs half of it.

“Why do I have a dozen missed calls from you?” You ask curiously.

“To keep me entertained as I walked” Alex shrugs before finishing off the rest of the drink.

Your eyes go wide, “You walked here? From Hoxton?”

He nods, “Yeah, from Howl at the Moon.”

“That’s over an hour's walk Alex” You scorn him, shaking your head.

Alex’s finishes the water and shrugs again when he places the glass into the sink beside you, “Well I wanted to wish you a Happy New Year”

“Al, I replied to your text one minute past twelve” You remind him with raised eyebrows.

“Well I maybe I just wanted to call to you”

You repeat your text message from earlier, “Why’d you only call me when you're high?”

Alex frowns at you then, “I call you all the time?” not understanding where you were coming from.

“I mean like pestering me when you're high.” You grin.

If you were honest, you didn’t actually mind him calling you on the nights he was getting wasted. You found it quite flattering he chose you out of everyone in his phone book.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t tease him for it.

“I don’t wanna pester you Angel.” Alex pouts tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

The pet name makes your stomach flip, even though you’re aware he’s just saying it because he’s drunk. “Alex.” You grin and shake your head again.

He grins back at you, but then his brown eyes dart to the shelves above your head. His eyes brighten seeing the vodka, “Let me get you a drink.”

“Alex no.” Your eyes widen and you push against his chest when he reaches for the spirit so he can’t get it. “We aren’t drinking at five in the morning”

“But I wanna chat with you” He pouts again but this time with a slight frown.

“You can chat with me anyway” You say pushing him a little more so he moves towards the kitchen door.

He’s stubborn though because he’s drunk.

“Wanna drunk chat with you” He whines at you, obviously ruining his plans.

“Alex, you're drunk and high.” You remind him. “That's a recipe for bad decisions.”

“I could never make a bad decision around you, love.” Alex shakes his head, “Never.”

Your cheeks heat up at the 3rd pet name of the evening and you once again find his name falling from your lips, “Alex.”

He grins at you as you move him to your kitchen door, but his face falls all of a sudden. He looks at you with worried eyes and he seriously asks, “Have you ever had sex with a bouncer outside a club?”

That certainly paused your actions.

“What?” You ask in shock. “Alex no, why would you think that?” You shake your head.

Relief passes through him then and he tries to shrug it off, “I don’t know, I’m just curious.”

“You think I have sex with random men at clubs?” You ask him with your eyebrows raised a little.

It was such a random but specific question. It confused you a lot.

“I mean, I didn’t think so” Alex tells you honestly whilst shaking his head, moving into the hall again after you turned the kitchen light off.

“Alex what the fuck have you taken?”

He chuckles a bit, running his hand through his hair, “Coke and lots of shots”

“Lord.” You shake your head.

You weren’t opposed to him doing all that as you’d had your fun with drugs once upon a time with your brother and you’d had your fair share of shots earlier tonight. You just didn’t think that he was in any condition to be walking the streets of London at 3 in the morning.

“Come on” You pull him by the sleeve of his leather jacket to the bottom of the stairs. You nod up the stairs and instruct him to, “Go up.”

He does as he’s told but half way up the stairs he pauses and turns back to look down at you, “Why am I in front of you?”

“Because I don’t want you to fall down the stairs.” You tell him honestly, holding the bannister just in case he started to fall back now he was looking down at you from the step above.

Alex, however, seems to find something amusing because a smirk comes to his plump lips. “You just wanna look at my arse”

You withhold your eye roll and just grin up at him. “You got me” You playfully pat his arse twice to encourage him to continue up the stairs, “Now go.”

Alex chuckles the rest of the way up the stairs and once you get to your landing, you rest your arm on his lower back to encourage him to walk towards your bedroom.

Before you get there through, Alex tells you, “I love you”

You smile and says, “Love you too Al”

You’ve got him in your room now and you make him sit down on the side of your bed whilst you attempt to find your joggers so he could sleep comfortably.

As you start looking Alex shakes his head saying, “No, I mean I really love you.”

You look back around to him when he continues with, “Like in the way Jamie loves Katie”

Your heart stops. You knew how much that couple loved each other so the fact he compared his love for you to them really shocked you.

“Take your jacket off Alex” You tell him ignoring what he said because it was clear he didn’t know what he was saying.

He does as he was instructed but with a frown because you didn’t register what he said. So he tells you again, ”I love you Y/N.”

“No you don’t.” You say, taking his jacket from him.

“I do. I really really love you.” Alex tells you and his brown eyes are looking into your Y/E/C ones sincerely.

You brush it off though telling him, “You don’t know what you're saying” as you hang up his coat.

“I really do. I know I worship the ground you walk on and you’re easily the best thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Alex says as he watches you once again routing through your wardrobe for whatever it was you were searching for.

You turn toward him with a pair of dark grey joggers in hand and he can’t help but smile, “Look at you, all stunning right now.”

You shake your head, “Alex I’m wearing Harry Potter pyjamas.”

“Yeah and you look sexy as fuck.” Alex says after running his tongue over his bottom lip.

You shake your head, not believing his drunken words at all. “Alex”

“Please tell me you like me.” He almost panic pleads with you and it makes you chuckle a little.

“Of course I like you Alex.” You smile at him to ease his nerves, “I wouldn’t be letting you sleep in my house if I didn’t like you.”

His face falls like something else dawns on him. He can’t stop himself from asking, “You’ve never shagged the guy from the kebab shop, right?”

Your eyes go wide again at the random question, “Alex, where is this coming from?”

You’re honestly baffled by the suggestion alone.

Alex shakes his head, “I just-“ but then something catches his eye, “Oh, is that whisky?”

He attempts to stand up then to grab the miniature whisky set you got for Christmas. But you put a hand on his chest, “Alex no.”

“Sit down.” You instruct him in a stern voice.

He frowns at you a little but it’s like a puppy looking angry. He does as asked but he takes it further and just flops himself back, lying himself across your bed.

Well, at least if he was lying down he couldn’t do anything else stupid.

He’s silent for a minute until you throw your joggers over his head. After you both chuckle a little you say, “Alex, unbutton your jeans so I don’t have to.”

You turn towards your shelves and start silently moving your alcohol into hidden places so when you went downstairs, he didn’t start drinking them.

“Kinda want you to.” You hear him say once he moves your joggers off his face.

Your eyes go wide and you embarrassedly say, “Alex stop.”

“Fine, fine.” He sighs and you can then hear his belt unbuckling and him undoing the zip.

You don’t have to look at him to know he’s being lazy and is taking his jeans off whilst still lying on your bed.

As he continues his struggle, he nonchalantly asks you, “Have you ever sucked someone off in a taxi?”

You’re absolutely mortified by the question. Where the fuck were all these questions coming from?

“Alex, you're taking your jeans off in my bedroom.” You say, keeping your eyes on the draw you were moving your gifted alcohol into. “Refrain from blowjob talk.”

You can hear his grin when he asks, “Have you though?”

“No Alex.” You assure him, and you hear him move towards you, “You better have put them joggers on.”

Just after you close the draw you were hiding the alcohol into, you hear him chuckling behind you.

“What you laughing at?” You ask after you’ve turned around to see him standing close. Thankfully the joggers were on.

He gently moves your hair to the side and cups your cheek again. His thumb caresses your skin as he softly says, “Thank you for looking after me.”

You’re smiling up at him and you’re about to tell him that it was fine, but you don’t get a chance. Instead Alex kisses you and you freeze in shock.

His lips are gentle against your own and you find yourself melting into it. Your lips move on their own accord and you relax into the gesture.

His lips were soft but the kiss seemed to contain something a little bit more. Alex’s other hand found your hip and encouraged you to step a bit closer which you did.

Your hand came to rest on his chest over the black material of his top, but once a few kisses go by and Alex more confidently runs his tongue across your bottom lip, your hand slips up to the back of his neck. Alex then more confidently deepens the kiss and your now hazy mind can’t seem to stop it.

He tasted of vodka which surprised you because you knew his chosen drink was whisky. But you didn’t pay close attention to that because there was so much to concentrate on.

His hand that cupped your cheek had slipped around the back of your neck to keep you in the kiss and your senses filled with his aftershave mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke. But you indulged in the way he was holding you against him tightly.

You actually really liked the kiss and you hadn’t liked anyone’s kisses in a long time.

Alex pulled away from the kiss after a minute and he rested his forehead against your own. You both tried to calm your breathing as you stayed close but after a few seconds you opened your eyes to see him already looking at you.

You gazed into each other’s eyes for a minute then, neither of you moved a muscle. Your chests were still rising and falling, trying to regain the oxygen you were just denied.

“That was nice.” Alex whispers, then hesitantly adds, “Right?”

You smile at the vulnerability of his question. But you look into those gorgeous brown eyes and confirm, “Yeah, that was nice.”

Alex smiles at that and he leans down and kisses you once more. But you don’t let it get to what it just was. After one kiss you pull away and slip your hand down to pat his chest, softly telling him, “It’s time for bed.”

Alex smiles and actually does head to bed. You press your now sensitive lips together to contain your smile and turn back to your wardrobe to grab a blanket. Once it’s in your hand and you turn to see him now in your bed, you head to the door and turn out the light.

“Night Alex” You call and you start to head out the door.

But he calls, “Where you going?”

“To sleep on the settee” You say when you turn back towards him.

“No Y/N, please don’t leave me. I don’t want you to leave me.” Alex pleads.

“Alex, you’re off your head.” You state, “You don’t know what you want.”

“I want you to stay. I know that much.” He tells you and you can hear that he’s serious.

You shake your head, “Alex no, you need to go sleep”

But he has none of it, “You know I’ll follow you downstairs and share the settee with you so you might as well just stay where we’ll be comfier.”

“But Alex yo-”

“Please Y/N.”

You sigh and give in then, knowing he wouldn’t give up until you got in bed next to him. So you do, you get yourself in bed beside him and you get comfy.

That doesn’t last long though because Alex basically shuffles himself close to you until you’re coaxed into cuddling into him. You don’t see any harm in his arm going round your back or your head resting on his shoulder because you’d fallen asleep once or twice before after resting your head on his shoulder.

After a few minutes silence, you hear him whisper, “I really love you, you know?”

“Tell me that when you're sober.” You tell him.

After a second to process what you just said, Alex asks, “Will you believe me then?”

“Yeah.” You nod.

~*~*~*~

When you stir awake the next morning, you’re sure it must have been pretty late in the morning, maybe earlier afternoon, because the light shining through the sides of your black out curtains was very bright. You were still curled up into Alex’s side when you looked down at your bodies, but one of your legs was resting over Alex’s and your arm was now lay over his chest.

You pick your head up to glance over Alex to look at the time on your alarm clock and see that it reads 11:13. You then decided that 6 hours is enough sleep for the both of you or you’d never get out of bed.

So you disturb Alex’s slumber by patting his chest a few times before poking him. After a minute he stirs and when you feel him hold you a bit tighter to him and rub your back you decide to speak.

You say into his chest, “Happy New Year, my lovely”

“Heyyy” His deep voice calls out in surprise, as if he’s shocked it’s you he’s hearing. He recovers well when he says, “Happy New Year.”

You pick your head up to look at him and you have to admit to yourself that his messy unstyled bed hair is very pleasing on the eye. You see him smile back at you and you ask, “You don’t remember coming here, do you?”

He shakes his head, closing his eyes again and he rubs them with his other free hand. After a second he hesitantly asks, “Did I…? Did we...?”

“You wish” You softly giggle as you shake your head. “You don’t remember anything, do you?”

“Not really, no” He says with a small smile on his lips.

“You knocked on my seventy-six year old neighbour’s door before you found mine which is comical because you’ve been here hundreds of times.” You inform him as you sit up, your smile getting bigger and bigger, “Then you came in off your head, begging me to have a drink with you, so I made you go to bed.”

Alex slowly sits himself up too, and when he notices his change in attire he asks, “Did you get me changed?”

“I made you get yourself changed” You inform him and Alex sighs.

“Jesus.” Alex says rubbing his eyes again before running a hand through his messy hair, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you were quite funny.” You grin, getting yourself out of bed, “Especially when you got all pouty asking me to stay.”

You were going to have some fun teasing him today.

Alex chuckles a little before looking at you, saying, “Well I’m glad you did.”

“I’m a wonderful friend…” You smile, “What can I say?”

He grins at you then and you think he is the cutest person in the world that you’ve ever seen first thing in the morning. How in the hell did this beautiful man in front of you drunkenly claim he had feelings for you.

“Right...” You say, “I’m going to quickly use the bathroom and then you’re going to get yourself up and in the shower, and after I’ve made breakfast I’ll tell you what else you said.”

“Oh god.”

An hour later, you’d both done just that. You were up and dressed and bacon butties had been made, Alex joined you downstairs dressed back in his jeans now and his wet hair had been styled with a comb you’d left on your bed for him.

Only the water drying was styling his hair, but it still looked great. It had definitely been a shock when he initially cut it like that last year, well, two years ago now. But the cut suited him anyway.

“How you feeling?” You ask him, thinking he was looking a lot better now sat in the kitchen compared to when he was in here last night.

You were both sitting at the table in your kitchen and you’d just got you both another small glass of fresh orange. He definitely looked a lot more awake now if nothing else.

“Not the best but better now I’ve had food though...” Alex tells you honestly, “So thank you.”

“Do you remember anything else now you're not an extra from the walking dead?” You ask with a playful grin, ready to give him a little bit of shit before things got serious.

Alex elects to ignore your zombie comment and he says, “A few things.” and then takes a long sip of his orange juice.

You ask with a grin, “Do you remember asking me if I’d shagged a bouncer or the guy from the kebab shop?”

He chokes on his drink then which makes you giggle. He coughs a little before saying, “I was hoping I dreamt that.”

“The answer was no by the way.” You remind him.

Alex nods then and you almost choke on your drink when he asks, “What about riding on the back of a motorbike naked?”

You shake your head at him, your eyes going wide. “Your mind is honestly something else.”

Alex sheepishly says, “‘M sorry”

“No I haven’t.” You tell him. “Because that is irresponsible and dangerous and you know I tell you off when you just go out on yours in your jeans.”

Alex raises his eyebrows in an unimpressed way as he hums, “Mmm... You don’t let me forget it.”

You grin taking the conversation back again, “I’m not gunna let you forget last night.”

Alex closes his eyes and sighs, “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.” You correct with a grin. When you get up with your now empty glass with the intent to wash it, you ask, “Do you remember kissing me?”

“That was real?” You hear him ask in shock and it makes you smile.

You nod looking back around at the now wide eyed man, “It was.”

“I’m sorry.” He says as you start washing up, “Bet that was awful.”

“You’d be surprised…” You giggle washing the glass and two plates in the sink as you tell him, “I’ve kissed a lot of drunk people and a lot of them were worse than you.”

Alex chuckles but after a few seconds asks, “Is that a compliment?”

“Yeah.” You laugh, and then tell him, “Thanks for not being a shit drunk kisser.”

He slowly says, “You’re welcome... I think.”

You soon enough finish washing the dishes and you feel that now is the time to bring up the heavier stuff. A kiss was noteworthy sure, but declaring your love for someone was massive.

Especially after how things ended with Arielle the 8 months or so that happened. He’d been certain he was never going to fall in love again, so god only knew how he’d apparently fell for you without you noticing.

“There’s one more thing...” You say, grabbing the pot towel to dry your hands, leaving the stuff on the draining board to dry.

You look back around to the man in black who’s sat at your table, but you notice that he’s hesitant to look at you, “But from the look on your face, I think you know what you said.”

“Yeah…” He trails off, and when his eyes meet yours he says, “I’m sorry.”

You ask, despite the look on his face clearly giving the answer away. “Did you mean it?”

“Would it mean anything if I did?” Alex asks after he finds your Y/E/C eyes once again.

You nod, “Of course it would... Things would change.”

Alex sighs a little, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He can’t bring himself to look into your eyes when he asks, “Like what?”

“Well it would depend what you did if it was true…” You say and you see him looking very nervous and uncomfortable so you throw him a rope to latch onto. “If you asked me out then things would change.”

His eyes widen at that suggestion and he nods processing it. He then asks, “How would they change?”

“Well that would depend on my answer, wouldn’t it?” You say, trying to keep your emotions off your face.

If he was going to ask you out he needed to not be scared to. You weren’t going to serve it on a platter to him, not after he had drunkenly told you he loved you.

“So what would your answer be?” Alex asks when he stands up after drinking the rest of his drink.

“You’re not getting that.” You tell him as he walks towards you to put the glass in the sink, just next to where you were leaning. “You gotta ask me.”

After the glass is discarded, neither of you make any attempt to clean it. “I don’t want things to change Y/N/N.”

“Why?” You question, “The only things that would change is you’d see me more and could kiss me whenever you wanted instead of doing it completely off your face.”

His eyes go wide and his head whips round towards you, “You’d say yes?”

You grin and laugh, “Just ask me out Alex.”

So he does, in a very slow, very nervous way, “Do you… Maybe... Wanna go out sometime? With me?”

“I think I’d like that” You grin at him.

He just needs the confirmation, “Yeah?”

“Yes Alex” You chuckle and nod, going to hug him because a few seconds ago he looked petrified.

After he hugs you back and your arms loosen around each other, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh, you’re asking this time?” You tease, not being able to get the smile off your face.

His eyes roll, not wanting to be embarrassed by his drunk actions. So he asks looking down at you, “Can I or not?”

“Don’t be embarrassed…” You tell him, bringing your arms you arms around his neck, “It was a good kiss”

A little smirk makes its way onto his face then, almost matching your grin. His arms go around your waist and he holds you to him which you're happy about.

“So yeah, go on then.” You dare him, “Kiss me Turner”

So he did, his lips met yours again and he took your breath away all over again. His soft lips moved against your own and you were glad it wasn’t just left over alcohol in your system last night that made it feel good.

You were definitely nervous but that didn’t stop you from wanting it to continue. You’d fancied him for a while but you’d never done anything about it, because you were honestly scared to and what the consequences of it might mean.

But all of those worries slipped away whilst his lips were attached to yours. The kisses were soft like they were last night but he got a little more encouraged when your fingers went up to the back of his head and laced your fingers through the longer strands there.

If he was nervous to deepen your kiss, he didn’t show it at all because he did it expertly and his hold on your waist tightened. Alex’s kisses were forcing your stomach to fill with butterflies and you truly didn’t want it to end.

Everything about this moment felt right. He wanted you and you wanted him.

You wanted him when he moved you back a little so you were trapped between him and the worktop. You wanted him when he broke the kiss for a second to pull on your bottom lip which caused a breathy moan to fall from your lips before you forced him into another kiss.

And you still wanted him when you moved yourself up to sit onto the worktop without breaking the kiss, so you could sit comfortably and kiss him. But as your luck would have it you knocked the draining board as you did and a second later you heard glass smashing.

The noise unfortunately shocked you enough to make you break apart and you both turned to see that your glass had fallen off the draining board and into the sink causing it to smash. You’d be lying if you said you were bothered by it because you truly weren’t.

You’d break a glass everyday if it meant he kept kissing you like that.

He was standing between your legs now, his hands resting on your thighs, and your arms were still around his neck and you both just laughed when you shrugged at the glass breaking. There were definitely more important things.

You think the little break in the kiss let it sink in for you both though. As your mind ran to everything that would be different now you could kiss him whenever you wanted, well almost whenever you wanted.

You didn’t think the fans would be too impressed if you kissed him when he was on stage.

“Can’t believe I’m finally kissing you.” Alex grins, pecking your lips once more.

You say, “I know… I’m very happy you are doing though.”

“I’m happy too.” Alex assures you, “Very happy.”

You laugh at that and he joins in too. “I’m gunna keep you away from everyone now, you know that, right? Want you all to myself.”

“Damn… Possessive already” You giggle, “What’s Matt gunna say?”

“I honestly couldn’t give a shit what your brother has to say right now” Alex shakes his head, chuckling a little before he leans in to kiss you again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Read Part 2: | Here |

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hxneekyuu · 4 years

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falling in love || a playlist

>> because falling and realizing he’s fallen are two very different things.

genres : haikyuu x f!reader, fluff, angst, slightly suggestive

a/n : i got this idea after seeing the n/sfw version called “songs they would fuck you to” or something??? i literally cant find the post anymore so pls someone tag me or send me an ask if you know what im talking about so i can give that writer credit for their post -- just wanted to do a kind of slice of life version of that idea!! idk why but this really took me 2 weeks to finish for absolutely no reason, so i hope you like it!!

daichi -- you got something x rochelle

you got a something, making me weak // you got a something, i’m on my knees

“what are the odds daichi’s girlfriend is completely made up, and he just doesn’t want to tell us?” asahi laughs at suga’s comment, but daichi only picks up a handful of sand and chucks it at them, a scowl set deep on his features. he had told you a few days ago that he and the guys were going to be spending their saturday at the beach, the first nice day in a while -- he had been trying to tell you that he wanted you to finally meet his friends, and you had seemed really excited at the prospect. but you’re late, and while daichi knows his friends are just teasing, he can’t help but feel anxious.

“are you sure she’s coming?” asahi doesn’t mean it as a quip -- he genuinely is asking because he can tell this is important. but daichi isn’t listening. he’s staring down the stretch of beach at the person that’s stumbling in the sand, trying to cross the distance to him almost frantically. you look stressed, and he knows you’re probably freaking out about how late you are, but when you look up and finally make eye contact, the smile you give him is so bright and genuine that he feels like he’s the only one there.

“i’m sure.”

suga -- freakin’ out on the interstate x briston maroney

you got a lot on your mind // and your heart, it looks just like mine

he’s not sure when he falls asleep, but when he comes to, he knows the ink from his homework has probably copy-pasted itself onto his right cheek. it’s been week after week of deadlines and assignments, the stress of third year finally catching up to him. an unplanned nap was bound to happen at some point with the way he was staying up later and later each night, barely getting 4 hours if he was lucky. he’s ready to lift his head and get back to work, but when he opens his eyes, all he sees is you. you’re sitting next to him, headphones in as you work on your own assignments, completely unaware that he’s awake. as he studies you closely, feeling calm for the first time in weeks, he decides that maybe another few minutes won’t kill him.

asahi -- apocalypse x cigarettes after sex

when you’re all alone, i will reach for you // when you’re feeling low, i will be there too

he’d had a hard practice -- he’d messed up so many serves and missed enough spikes to make him feel like going home and forgetting this whole day had happened. he can’t meet anyone’s eyes because he knows they know how he’s feeling, and that’s just embarrassing. he even waits until everyone’s left the club room for the night, having told daichi and suga to go ahead of him, that he’d walk home alone. sitting in the club room all alone, he can’t help but sigh in frustration.

finally pulling himself to his feet, he grabs his bag and heads for the door, locking it behind him once he’s outside. turning toward the door, he almost yells when he sees you standing there, staring down at your shoes as you wait. when you had become karasuno’s manager, you’d made a point to tell them that they could rely on you for anything, but he really hadn’t thought you’d meant this. looking up and meeting his eyes with a smile, you gesture toward the stairs and don’t say a word about practice. he won’t realize for a long time just how much he appreciates you in this moment.

“come on, slowpoke, i’ve been waiting to walk home with you.”

kageyama -- the less i know the better x tame impala

then i heard they slept together // oh, the less i know the better

“you need to tell her before i tell her for you.” it’s an empty threat, but he aims a punch at the side of hinata’s head for good measure. they’re standing at the door to his classroom, pretending to be busy talking about something so he can have an excuse to look at you. you’re standing in the hall not too far away, laughing about something with your friends, and it takes all of his self-restraint not to confess right then and there. you don’t even know who he is, and he’s just about ready to risk public humiliation for you. he doesn’t know what’s happened to him in the weeks since he’d first laid eyes on you, but he’s not sure how much longer he can deal with this torture.

“dude, she is right there. seriously, you need to just tell her. so what if she says no and you’re embarrassed for a few days? at least you’ll be getting it over with. there’s nothing that could be worse than that -- oh.” almost as if the universe is playing some kind of cruel game, both kageyama and hinata watch as the door to the next classroom slides open, making way for a certain 6’2” blond middle blocker to step into the hall and call out to you. when you smile and wrap your arms around his waist, silently asking him to bend down so you can plant a small kiss on his cheek, kageyama grits his teeth and looks away, locking eyes with a flustered hinata.

“that. that’s worse.”

hinata -- i’m so tired… x lauv, troye sivan

hurts like heaven, lost in the sound // Buzzcut Season, like you’re still around // can’t unmiss you, but i need you now

he can feel you next to him, curled up into his chest, your breathing even. he can feel your loving gaze on the side of his face as he helps you cook dinner and even more so when you two are on the couch watching netflix -- you’d always had a habit of watching him more than the show. he can feel your skin on his in the shower as you drag your nails through his hair, scrubbing the shampoo through his locks and laughing when he starts to splutter under the rush of hot water. he can feel your lips on his, your embrace warm and safe after a bad day. he can feel it all like it’s still happening.

but when he opens his eyes, nothing is there to greet him but the empty spot in his bed to match the equally empty apartment. you’re still abroad, just as you have been for months now. and no matter how many good morning texts and late night facetime calls he has to look forward to, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still not here with him. you’re still gone. and he’s starting to realize he can’t feel much of anything anymore.

nishinoya -- ego x milky chance

and i guess that she’s the strongest // that i’ve ever seen yet, ever seen yet

“come quick, yuu! there’s a girl outside standing up to those bullies in the year above us!” nishinoya rushes to the window, taking his place among his classmates as they all watch you, standing your ground out in front of the school. you’re hovering over a boy who’s been pushed to the ground, his hand and knee already bleeding lightly. your arms are crossed, eyes squinted in determination as you stare down two boys that are older and much bigger than you. he finds his chest tightening with worry -- how can a ten-year-old girl take down two bullies? why isn’t anyone helping? shouldn’t someone get a teach--

“well come on, then, you jerks! i thought you guys were supposed to be scary, but you look like a couple of wimps to me, picking on someone smaller than you!” his classmates start snickering, the bullies noticing that they’ve got an audience, but nishinoya’s breath has caught in his throat, and all he can see is you and that look in your eye -- he needs to know you.

tanaka -- perfect places x lorde

all the nights spent off our faces // trying to find these perfect places // what the fuck are perfect places anyway?

he pushes the nameless girl up against the wall, lips finding hers in a rush of alcohol and adrenaline. he doesn’t care about her, and he knows damn well that she doesn’t care about him either. you don’t go to a frat party looking for love. that’s why, when he pulls away and opens his eyes to look at her, the guilt he feels isn’t for her or that fact that she’d likely be going home alone tonight. it’s for you, completely unaware of his feelings or his fantasies. because it’s not her face staring back at him. it’s yours.

ennoshita -- cigarette daydreams x cage the elephant

so sweet, with a mean streak // nearly brought me to my knees

“dude, seriously! we’ve come to this coffee shop every day for like the last two weeks -- the chocolate croissants cannot be that good!” he shushes tanaka angrily, shoving him through the door and to the far end of the room, forcing him into the booth by the window and dropping his bag on the other side. he tells himself, and anyone that asks to be honest, that he needs to focus because finals are coming up. he tells himself that the ambiance at this cafe is calming, that he can always get work done here without a problem. he tells himself this as if he doesn’t have a mountain of work that most definitely has not been getting done in the last two weeks, the deadlines piling up to the point where he’s sure he’s going to be suffering very soon. but none of that matters -- ‘none of it matters’, he tells himself as he approaches the counter, meeting your playful eyes with a nervous smile.

“ennoshita-san, you’re back! should i get you the usual?”

tsukishima -- know your worth x khalid, disclosure

find someone you know will put you first // find someone who loves you at your worst

he’s at your door not even ten minutes after you’d texted him. it had been easy enough to get past the security guard in front of your dorm -- he’s spent more nights here than at his own dorm, which he’s sure his party animal roommate is thankful for. but tonight, tsukishima’s not here to avoid a 2am rager, the “he left me for her” text settling like poison in his veins the longer he thinks about it. he’s angry -- beyond angry -- but he knows to store it away for later. later, he can find that piece of shit and release the worst of tsukishima kei’s sharp tongue. right now, he can hear you crying on the other side of the wall, and it’s all he can do not to bust the door down.

as he’s bringing his hand up to knock, the tissue box and pack of oreos shifting in the bag around his wrist, the door swings open, revealing your roommate. she barely spares him a glance as she shuffles past him into the hall, patting his shoulder as she goes.

“she’s all yours, tsukki.”

yamaguchi -- are you bored yet x wallows (feat. clairo)

’cause we could stay at home and watch the sunset // but i can’t help from asking “are you bored yet?”

it’s just past 5pm, the soft glow of the afternoon really tempting his inner desire to take a nap, but there’s something eating away at him. when he looks down at you, head in his lap as you read a manga, the part of his heart that used to be filled with nothing but love feels now like it’s being drowned in doubt. is he still enough for you? are you getting tired of having him in your life? should he change to match your idea of the perfect boyfriend?

“hey.” he’s snapped out of his thoughts, eyes focusing in on your face and realizing that you’re peeking over the top of your manga to look at him. he tilts his head to one side, the ghost of a smile forming on his face when you mimic his movement playfully. you pull down the manga just a little bit more, revealing the rest of your face, and reach for the hand he has tangled in your hair. bringing it down to your lips, and that ghost of a smile becomes a full, genuine one when you whisper a kiss into his knuckles.

“i love you.”

kuroo -- one dance x drake

strength and guidance // all that i’m wishing for my friends

you’re throwing back another shot, setting the glass down on his coffee table when you’re done. he knows you’ve had a bad week at work, if the “i’m coming over, let’s drink” text had been anything to go by. this is the way you two had bonded in college, meeting up whenever one of you was having a bad time and drinking until your livers would cry. of course, you would follow it up with healthier coping mechanisms the next day, often spending all day together talking things through properly and eating greasy food for the hangovers.

it had been years since you’d started this little tradition, but as you turn up the volume on his speaker and sway to the music by yourself in the middle of his living room, he starts to imagine that maybe this could turn into something more.

kenma -- sunflower x post malone, swae lee

you’re the sunflower // i think your love would be too much

he’s not sure how he’d actually managed to convince you to pretend to be with him. it hadn’t even taken that long -- he’d barely let out that he was starting to feel overwhelmed with the amount of viewers that would hit on him during his streams when you were agreeing to his idea. as he sits in front of his computer, explaining in a low voice that the roommate he’d talked about before was actually his girlfriend, he wonders how the hell you could possibly be okay with this. but more than that, when you “interrupt” and walk into the room with a glass of water for him as an excuse to place your lips gingerly on his, the chat going absolutely crazy at the display, he wonders why it can’t be real.

lev -- death is in the air x sakima

is my heart breaking // or do i have one at all

he’s sitting across from you in a diner that’s otherwise empty, watching you stir the coffee in front of you. he knows you will never bring the cup to your lips in the span of this conversation -- it’s just a nervous habit, a need to keep your hands busy while you talk. he can hear your words, but they sound muffled, as if he’s underwater. this entire moment feels like it’s happening to someone else, but when he pinches the inside of his thigh, you’re still there, telling him what he never thought he’d hear. that things aren’t working out between you -- that you’re tired of him being a player and coming close enough to cheating that it almost hurts more than if he would just do it already. he hears all the ways he’s been the kind of person he’d always hated, but he doesn’t say a word. he hasn’t said a word since he sat down, not even five minutes prior. is five minutes really all you need to end things?

he doesn’t move, not even when he hears the bell above the door ring, your footsteps fading as the door closes behind you.

yaku -- sucker x jonas brothers

i’m a sucker for all the subliminal things // no one knows about you (about you), about you (about you)

it’s 3:37am on a tuesday night -- or is it wednesday? -- and he should be in bed or at least in the comfort of his own home. but he’s not. he’s not home, and he knows he’s really pushing his luck because his father wakes up for work every day at 4am, but he just can’t bring himself to be responsible. he knows he’s going to be so screwed when his 6:30 alarm goes off, but at this rate he thinks he might be watching the sun rise with you. you’re in the exact same situation, so who is he to cut the night short if you haven’t yet? even if you do look as exhausted as he feels, there’s a happiness on your face that he feels partially responsible for, and he’s not ready to give that up yet.

so he lets himself be dragged around the empty streets of tokyo, feeling like nothing else matters but this moment with you, at 3:37am on a tuesday night.

oikawa -- pristine x mantaraybryn

and that all this time i was trying to be // james dean, pristine, suntanned, underwater // living an american dream

glass shatters against the far wall, and he’s not quite sure when he’d picked up the bowl from the coffee table. he’s alone in the main room of the apartment, almost vibrating with rage. there are tears falling from his eyes, but he’s not sure when that happened either. all he can think about is the humiliation he’d felt, the bitter pain that had filled him when his father had expressed his disappointment at the way his son’s life had turned out.

“... should have stayed in Japan… real job....” oikawa stares at the shelf above the TV, lined with every award he’d spent his entire life earning. before he can think properly about it, he’s across the room, swinging his arm toward the shelf, ready to destroy everything he’d ever worked for --

“tooru?” spinning around to face you, panic fills his teary eyes as he realizes he really wasn’t alone in the apartment this whole time. you’d been there, probably just doing work in your own room with your headphones in. the sound of the bowl breaking against the wall had probably caught your attention, and now he feels bad for ruining the space you two share. but you’re not looking at the mess. you’re only looking at him, concern lacing your eyes, and for the first time in a long time, he feels safe.

iwaizumi -- eastside x benny blanco (with halsey & khalid)

we can do anything if we put our minds to it // take your whole life, then you put a line through it

“what are you doing here?” he says it without looking back, having heard you scaling the side of his house as soon as you’d gotten there. when you settle down next to him, legs hanging off the roof, he reaches over and takes your hand in his, a sense of calm falling over him for the first time all day. he feels you scoot closer, leaning your head on his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you and presses a kiss to your temple. you two sit on top of his house like this, staring out at the city together just as you’d been doing since you were kids and needed to escape, even if just for a few minutes.

“your mom called me -- said she hadn’t seen you in hours. i told her i’d take care of it.” he smiles to himself. he should have known you’d find him. you always do.

matsukawa -- you get me so high x the neighbourhood

we should stick together // you’re my best friend, i’ll love you forever

he can see you across the party, looking annoyed and a little impatient as a guy steps into your path, trying to chat you up. whatever’s on your mind has you peering around the frat boy, and you wave him off without a second glance as you search for something -- or someone. he’s persistent, though, and matsukawa has half a mind to save you, knowing that having a best friend with a frame as large as his has gotten you out of trouble with guys before. but before he can pass his drink off to makki, your eyes are locking onto his own, and it feels like the world has stopped. you’ve never smiled at him like that before.

hanamaki -- on melancholy hill x gorillaz

’cause you are my medicine // when you’re close to me

“you know, hanamaki, you visit my office hours every week, but it never really feels like you need help.” he pulls his eyes away from the whiteboard littered with your handwriting, meeting your eyes just long enough to feel exposed. you’re giving him a sweet smile, but the look in your eye is anything but innocent. you see right through him, he knows that much, but he’s never going to admit that he knowingly ditches party plans with his roommates every friday just so he can see you for an hour. he’d never tell you that -- just like he’d never tell you that he knows you’re pretending to be worried about his progress just like he is, that he knows you can see how good his are grades, too. instead of mentioning any of that, he shoots you a quick smirk, cocking his head to the side in mock-confusion.

“i’m not sure i know what you’re getting at, y/n.”

kyoutani -- chill x rayana jay

baby, can i be real? can i be real with you? // it means the world to me, i just wanna chill with you

rounding the corner of the aisle, he doesn’t even realize he’s bumped into someone until there are groceries rolling around at his feet and you’re apologizing softly. the glare that settles on his face is one of pure habit, an expression that had become his only one over the course of his life. he’s guarded by nature, and he knows it pushes people away, but that’s how he prefers things. so when you glance up from where you’re crouched, putting your items back into your basket, he’s shocked that you aren’t matching his glare or even that you don’t seem the slightest bit intimidated. you’re just asking him to hand you something by his feet.

realizing that you’ve dropped quite a bit of stuff because of him, he bends down, grabbing items before they roll away and handing them to you without a word. he then realizes that he’s made you spill your drink on your shirt, something you only notice when you catch him staring at the stain. when he sees the smirk on your face, his guarded glare makes a comeback, but you still don’t seem to notice it.

“are you going to tell me your name, or are you just going to keep staring at my chest?” well this is certainly new.

kunimi -- sweater weather x the neighbourhood

just us, you find out // nothing that i wouldn’t want to tell you about

“so you met this girl on twitter? what if she’s like some 40 year old dude?” he rolls his eyes at kindaichi’s comment, pulling up your account and showing him the selfies you’d posted not too long ago. his best friend nods appreciatively before shrugging. “i don’t know, man, those could be fake.” understanding kindaichi’s concern but unable to stop the annoyance that flares up in him, he shoves his phone back into his pocket and starts to walk away.

“whatever, dude, what’s the harm in making a friend?” there’s a scoff from behind him at the word ‘friend’, but he ignores it, just like he ignores the blush rising on his cheeks.

“i’m just saying, you’ve never exactly been one to put yourself out there and make friends, so why her?” he shrugs, deciding that even starting this conversation with kindaichi had been a huge mistake and that he just wants it to be over. he’s well aware that it’s not the best idea to get close to someone he hasn’t physically met and that kindaichi’s just looking out for him, but he feels oddly protective of you and doesn’t like where the conversation is headed.

besides, his attention is no longer on what’s happening around him. he can feel his phone buzzing in his pocket, and he just knows it’s you.

kindaichi -- that’s just how it goes x role model

you’ll sleep with friends of mine // i’ll sleep with people i don’t like

he waves at you when you enter the gym, remembering that you’d promised to come watch him practice. they haven’t quite started yet, so he jogs over to you to ask how your day was. he knows why you’re really here. he can see the way you try to glance around him without being obvious about it, but he knows exactly who you’re here for. it’s so obvious it almost feels like a joke. because when kunimi wanders over to say hi, he can see the way you look at him, your ears tinted red as you smile nervously. he can see it, and he hates it, so he looks away. he always looks away. that’s why he never sees the moment when you turn your loving gaze to him or the way kunimi smiles knowingly, shaking his head at the fact that kindaichi can be so oblivious sometimes.

bokuto -- magic in the hamptons x social house, lil yachty

you know where i go when we’re dancing // handshakes in the hamptons and getting drunk in the mansions with you

“akaashi... who is that?” he’s standing in one of the aisles of the library, eyes locked on the table where akaashi can usually be found studying. he’d come to this spot specifically to find his best friend, ready to drag the younger boy off to lunch, but he’d found you instead. he’s not exactly sure how long he’s been standing there, probably in everyone’s way, but eventually akaashi does pass the aisle on his way to check out a book, stopping short at the sight of a familiar large frame.

at akaashi’s noise of confusion from his question, bokuto does nothing more than repeat himself, swallowing hard as he watches you study. glancing past bokuto to see what he’s looking at, akaashi finally spots you, lifting his gaze and smiling almost evilly when he sees the telltale expression of awe on bokuto’s face.

“that’s y/n, bokuto-san. she’s a good friend of mine -- should i introduce you?”

akaashi -- fuck, i’m lonely x lauv, anne-marie

and all my friends are way too drunk to save me from my phone // so sorry if I say some things I mean

when akaashi steps out of the convenience store, well past midnight, the last person he’s expecting to see is you, sitting at one of the little tables outside. there’s a bottle of sake and a small disposable cup in front of you, but you’ve got your head on the table, looking out at nothing in particular. he checks his phone quickly and realizes that he does, in fact, have two texts from bokuto, the first letting him know that the two of you had gotten into a disagreement of sorts and you’d stormed out of the house to clear your head. the second is a request, friend to friend, that akaashi find her because, as annoyed he is with her, bokuto knows that his baby sister trusts akaashi more than anyone else in the world and he wants her to come home safely.

he sets his bag on the table and sits down across from you, letting you know that someone’s there. when you lift your head and see that it’s him, you give him a smile so warm that his breath catches in his throat and he has to find something to distract himself. picking the bottle of sake up from the table, he judges that you’re probably pretty tipsy, as it’s almost empty. he knows you’re pretty tipsy when you hum quietly and grab for his hand, whispering to him words that he figures you wouldn’t say if you were sober.

“I missed you, ‘kaashi.”

ushijima -- loving someone x the 1975

and i think i should be… // … loving someone

“i do not know how to tell her that she is overbearing. she even becomes angry when i try to explain that my career will not allow me the amount of time she demands of me.” he can hear you humming sleepily on the other side of the phone, and he wonders momentarily if he should have checked to see if you were sleeping before calling, but you’d told him long ago that you’d always pick up. he supposes 1am is never a good time to call, but he’s always had trouble talking to anyone who isn’t you. no one else has ever put in the effort to understand what he’s saying and especially what he isn’t saying. no one else has ever tried. not even his own girlfriend.

tendou -- blueberry faygo x lil mosey

one bad bitch, and she do what i say so

when his phone dings quietly from where he’s left it in the passenger’s seat of his car, tendou knows you’re almost ready. he rounds the corner onto your street and kills the headlights, rolling up to the front of your house as carefully as possible. he can see your parents sitting in the main room, the sofa positioned so that their backs are to the window, the TV glaring brightly in front of them. it’s a lucky setup for a certain redhead, as it’s granted him several opportunities over the years, both to sneak in and for you to sneak out. the latter is what he’s currently witnessing.

he watches as you slip out of your window and almost roll right off the roof, but you catch yourself and maneuver very carefully to the edge of the roof. he can’t help but grab his phone to film you as your legs hang precariously off the edge, your body wiggling cutely as you try not to make noise. at some point you’re dangling in the air right in front of the window, but you drop to the ground before either of your parents can notice, and then you’re bolting down the driveway to tendou’s car in uncontained excitement.

he watches the whole ordeal with nothing but love in his eyes, knowing there’s no one else in the world that would risk the true wrath of their parents for a 2am mcdonald’s run with him.

semi -- dangerous x big data (feat. joywave)

you understand, i got a plan for us // i bet you didn’t know that i was dangerous

he thinks he recognizes you, but he can’t quite place your familiarity. it’s a standard interview, one that the band has had scheduled for weeks now. when they get there, you’re already seated in the interviewer’s chair, a camera set up just behind you. you greet them kindly, smiling and bowing to each of the members. when you get to him, however, he has to ask.

“sorry if this comes off as a little weird, but… do we know each other?” your kind smile morphs into a smirk, so he knows he’s right. the response you give has the rest of the band howling with laughter, but he’s too busy noticing how stunning you look in that moment, your eyes dancing with mirth as you tilt your head to the side to look at him.

“you mean you don’t remember rejecting me in high school?”

goshiki -- adore you x harry styles

i’d walk through fire for you // just let me adore you

“...so what i’m trying to say, tsutomu… is that i like you. a lot…” he can hear the words leaving your mouth, but all he can see is you -- the way you refuse to meet his eyes, the deep red that’s filling your cheeks the longer you go on. he barely registers that this is a confession because all his mind can focus on is the fact that it’s taken this long for him to realize his own feelings. almost 2 years of inviting you to his games, begging your teachers to make you two seatmates at the beginning of each term, asking you to wait for him to finish practice so he could walk you home -- it had all been some selfish attempt to make you his, and he didn’t even realize it until you were trying to make him yours, too. he doesn’t let you finish your rambling confession, unable to stop himself from speaking.

“what are you doing this weekend?”

shirabu -- toothbrush x dnce

baby, you don’t have to rush // you can leave a toothbrush at my place, at my place

when the two of you had started dating, you’d both agreed that keeping things private for a little while would be best -- the shiratorizawa VBC is a lot of things, but subtle is not one of them. he’d been well aware that if anyone were to find out, he would suffer endless teasing and constant questions, and since you’re friends with all the boys, you would not be spared the torture. but “a little while” had become months, and he’s starting to feel like he’s made a mistake trying to keep you a secret. when you visit the team’s practice, he feels trapped, like he’s not even free to look at you or give you the soft smile he knows you love. he just has to sit there, blending in with the rest of the boys as they greet you, as a few of them even flirt with you. they have no idea that you’re his, and he’s really starting to hate it.

terushima -- blinding lights x the weekend

i’m drowning in the night // when i’m like this, you’re the one i trust

“yuuji, you shouldn’t be calling me…” he’s drunk -- more than drunk, really. if he’d been any less intoxicated than he currently is in this exact moment, he never would have looked for your name in his contacts. he knows you’re trying to have a clean break, that after years of back and forth and mistakes that were masked as late nights and one too many drinks, you had finally had enough. he’s trying to respect your decision because he wants nothing more than to give you everything you want. but there must be some piece of him that’s hoping you’re willing to make just one more mistake. one more mistake with you is all he needs, and then he’ll let you go.

atsumu -- love$ick x mura masa (feat. a$ap rocky)

i need you // i’m a lovesick fuck // i want you // i’m a lovesick fuck

“rin, you left this at my place last night -- my mom filled it with leftovers in case you didn’t have lunch for today.” watching as you place suna’s lunch sack beside him and nod at his quiet mumble of gratitude, atsumu considers it both a blessing and a curse that the universe made you suna’s best friend. but today he feels especially cursed, since he’s now finding himself choking half to death on his lunch when suna lets out a quick --

“by the way, this piss head’s been crushing on you for weeks -- can you please go on a date with him so i can get some peace and quiet during lunch?” snatching osamu’s water bottle right as his brother’s raising it to his own lips, atsumu quiets his lungs and glances up at you, beet red, just as you’re turning to walk away, a smirk forming on your lips.

“i’ll think about it.”

osamu -- paradise x bazzi

don’t know if it’s the drink i poured // but i swear i’ve never loved you more

“stop touchin’ my rice! it’s for the fuckin’ onigiri!” if any of his customers could see the way he’s acting right now, he’d definitely be out of business. he’s known for providing quality service with charm to match, but right now he’s acting like nothing short of… well, his brother. you’d stopped by just as the shop was closing, part of your friday night routine that consisted of nothing but your favorite miya twin and a heinous amount of food for two people. atsumu always complains that you’d shown osamu favoritism since high school, something that osamu was always secretly happy about. even now, as you stand in the kitchen of his restaurant asking him to show you how to make onigiri and then proceeding to wreak absolute havoc on his poor ingredients, he’s pleased that you’d always chosen him over anyone else. he does need you to stop touching his inventory, though.

“but what’s the difference between this rice and this ri-- okay, okay, i’m sorry!” you run around the island in the middle of the room, narrowly avoiding him as he swipes at you and yells for you to get out of his shop. he can tell you’re about to do something else to rile him up, so he tries to reach for you again but ends up tripping over his own foot and falling to the ground, taking you down with him. he only realizes just how close you are when you’re whispering his name, your breath fanning over his lips.

‘oh... shit’

suna -- notice me x role model (feat. benee)

let’s dance when we’re not supposed to be // can’t stand when you’re not close to me // damn, can’t believe you notice me, notice me

caging you against his bedroom wall with his arms, he presses his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. he can feel your pulse jumping in your throat, and he feels a kind of guilty pride that he’s the one that makes you feel this way. when you grasp at his shirt almost desperately and pull him flush against you, he wants to forget about the fact that this means nothing to you. he wants to forget about the way you sneak out of his room when you think he’s asleep, as if he could ever sleep peacefully knowing you’re so close. he wants to forget about how stupid he’d been, losing his courage and asking you to just be fuck buddies instead of what he really wants.

sakusa -- 505 x arctic monkeys

but i crumble completely when you cry // it seems like once again you’ve had to greet me with “goodbye”

as you storm toward the front door, his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, pulling you back to him. when you whip around to look at him, your eyes, burning with anger and wet with tears, have his heart breaking clean in half, but he doesn’t let go.

“i’m not letting you leave. you’re the one who said leaving wouldn’t fix anything. we have to fix this.” the look you give him is resigned, almost as if you think there’s no point in fixing what had slowly been breaking between you. if you had been anyone else -- if he could live without you -- he would have let you go a long time ago. but you’re not someone else, you’re you. and he’s not ready to live without you, so he doesn’t let go. he can’t let go.

aone -- firebird x milky chance

you’re like a firebird in the sky // shining for a challenger in the night

there’s a hand wrapping around his bicep as he stands in front of the chinese food takeout place on his street, waiting for futakuchi to finish ordering for them. when he looks down, you’re looking right back up at him, a complete stranger.

“babe, i thought you said you’d meet me at the corner!” he blinks inquisitively, tilting his head to the side, but he can see that there’s thinly veiled panic in your eyes. glancing quickly over your shoulder, he catches sight of two guys not too far away, watching closely. acting on the only conclusion that makes sense to him in that moment, he removes his arm from your grasp, but just as that panic in your eyes starts to grow, he’s wrapping it around you, pulling you into his chest comfortably.

“i’m sorry, i must have forgotten.” he wants to cringe at his own stiff language, hoping he doesn’t blow your cover and make things worse, but you’re relaxing into him as the guys finally decide you aren’t worth the trouble. once they’re gone, he drops his arm but keeps you close just in case. he wants to offer to walk you home, but he doesn’t like the idea that those guys are still wandering the streets and could find out where you live if they spot you again any time soon. you start to apologize for catching him so off guard, but his voice, firm yet polite, stops you.

“do you like chinese food?”

futakuchi -- 7 rings x ariana grande

happiness is the same price as red-bottoms

he doesn’t see you at first, the lighting in the room so dark that he can barely see his drink in his own hand. the club is beyond crowded, and the sweat that starting to roll down his spine is making him really uncomfortable. he pulls out his phone to text you, but then he remembers that he’d upset you earlier -- a remark that had come out automatically, his quick, unfiltered comments a product of his sharp tongue -- and you had cancelled your plans with him and told him you would text him in a few days. he has no right to be upset, he knows he shouldn’t have been rude to you. but then he spots a dress not too far away -- a dress he very clearly remembers paying for.

you’re hanging off of some other guy, and it looks like you two know each other because you aren’t tense around him like you were when you’d first met him all those years ago. you’re not his, he has to remind himself. this arrangement had been built on nothing but sex and money, as all things tend to be. you keep him company, and he gives you anything you could ever want -- the perfect sugar daddy.

then why is he so goddamn irritated?

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