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asukamood · 2 years

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Hello everyone! How are you doing?

Today is one of my friends’ birthday and since it’s a huge fan of Drueswap and Blue angst, I have decided to write that enormous 3291 words long of that (to give you a reference, most of the fics I posted here are between 2k and 2,3k long). The main idea of the plot doesn’t actually belong to me, for context, that same friend had told me about a Drue fic where Blue had barged into Dream’s office looking like a mess because he had just encountered somebody he did not want to see again and told me about how much it regret not being able to find it again.

Since it loved it so much, I’ve decided to write it the thing in my own style to compensate for its loss.

Enjoy the absolute chaos below those three stars.

(PS: There’s a kissing scene in this and I literally looked like a tomato while writing it, I am so weak :’)

PSS: I have checked the Drueswap tag every single day and not one new post appeared, am I the only existing Drue supply on Tumblr or are the others just not appearing for some reasons??)

Warnings: Physical abuse/violence, murder attempt without remorse, blood, several mental breakdowns, implied eating disorder (it’s really light) and heavy Blue angst.

***

It was late in the afternoon, probably around 2 PM. Although it was hard to tell because of the gloomy weather outside, plus, Dream was too focused on his paperwork to take a look at the watch on his wrist.

Water droplets crashed onto the windows behind him, regularly hitting the glass shield that silently screamed at each impact, the pain only manifested by the faint sound of bumping. In the chorus of the rain came the main vocals, the storm.

Blinding light flashed from time to time, illuminating briefly the cold room that was Dream’s office and casting shadows after being deviated by the imposing figure that was his body and desk. The light was only the face, the quiet partner that ran away in silence at an impressive speed.

The thunder roared after it, its voice reaching the ground and shaking it because of its sheer force. It was trying in vain to catch up to it, it was too slow and the lightning too fast.

That whole show had been going on for hours now and by the looks of it, the thunderstorm’s rage wasn’t going to lessen any time soon, in fact, it only seemed to grow bigger. Its irritated and icy cold breath blew at the trees outside which swayed in fear of being the Lightning’s next target as the light and thunder ran more frequently, screaming after one another in a deafening duet.

With that melancholic climate, most people would tremble with the trees. Some quite liked the sight of the Heavens’ tears racing against one another on their windows, others didn’t give it much thought and only found the noises mildly annoying when extended for too long.

Dream Von Licht just so happened to belong to that part of the population.

However, the continuation of the rain’s drum wasn’t what had him have his eyebrows furrowed or his left-hand tapping nervously on the wooden platform.

At one point, he finally gave in to the temptation and stopped his endless scribbling to glance at the time displayed on his watch.

It was 2 PM, or in other words, an hour after Blue’s usual appearance. Yet, the clock may continue to click its tongue, the man in blue has still yet to show up. To say that Dream was awaiting his arrival would be the truth a lie, while he didn’t mind his company, he didn’t need Blue to be here with him every week to function correctly.

The reason why he hasn’t shown up yet may be because of that pretty heavy rain outside. With weather like that, no one would want to drag themselves in the rain just to flirt with somebody, it made sense that he would rather spend the day at home doing something else like watching a TV show with a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate upon his lips.

That reasoning was completely logical.

So why did he still feel like something was amiss here?

A frustrated groan escaped him. He picked his pen back up before he started writing swiftly on the paper again, trying to get his mind to focus on the task at hand instead of fretting over Blue’s whereabouts.

Just as his stiff shoulders finally began to relax, he heard on his side the sizzling of a glitchy portal opening. The bad feeling that has been haunting him for the past hour decided to explode at that moment, soul pounding with warnings.

Blue never used a portal to get here.

The portal appeared fast and dissipated just as quickly. Between the two instances, a humanoid creature had the time to throw itself at the winged man, who had the air knocked out of him because of how fast it jumped on him.

That creature was soon identified as Blue but instead of his usual flirty greeting, he only heard heavy breathing as the other held onto him as if his entire existence depended on him.

He was soaked from head to toe, his hair sticking onto his forehead like glue had been used to do that. Dream hesitantly brushed his nape, his skin felt as cold as ice yet his freezing temperature didn’t seem to be the reason why he was shaking like a leaf in the wind or why he was breathing so intensely.

“… Blue?” The politician had said that in a whisper but it still seemed to have broken something inside of the other who let out a heartbreaking sob once the name left his mouth.

As a result, the yoga teacher squeezed him even tighter, burying his face even deeper into his chest as he started to wail like an amputated animal. He couldn’t see much from this angle but on his now wet shirt and jacket, he had suddenly taken note of the presence of crimson stains on them. That was blood.

Moreover, some parts of his hoodie were missing and from the looks of it, they had been torn off by a sharp object, if the thin lines of blood flowing out of cuts were any indication of that.

Dream had no clue what he was supposed to do, it was the first time he had seen the other acting so… vulnerable and he has never been one for emotions, as ironic as it may seem.

After a few seconds, he decided to wrap his arms around him and let his hand rub comforting circles on his back, careful not to brush any of the open wounds on the sensitive skin. He whispered sweet nothings to him as well to try and calm him down.

With his current state, it was needed for Blue to be taken to the medical wing but this idea seemed like wishful thinking at the moment since the other was squeezing him so tightly he felt as if all blood circulation inside of his torso had stopped. He didn’t seem like he was going to let go of him any time soon either.

The rain got even more intense, the furious pattering of the rain shaking even the triple-glazed windows. This whole situation almost felt surreal, who knew Dream would one day have to struggle with comforting someone as unpredictable as Blue?

This whole ordeal had him wanting to chew on his nails to pass the time, he had no clue what he was supposed to do and was only observing himself say things like a lost child.

He was expecting Blue to feel even worse if he were to be truly honest, yet against his beliefs, he had managed to calm him down for his sobs to turn into quiet whimpers and sniffs. Or perhaps it could be because he had no more tears left to shed, this could be a possibility too.

One of Dream’s hands came up to pet the other’s hair, who leaned onto his touch while trying not to look at the blood he had put all over Dream’s clothes. He was already completely messed up both mentally and physically, there was no need for him to start throwing up what little he had eaten that day too.

“I’m going to take you to the medical wing. Is that okay?” Blue let out a tired hum, nodding. He slouched against Dream and then stopped moving, eyes gazing at the horizon. One of them was suspiciously glitching but Dream didn’t think much of it.

Blue was still hugging him but he could move around now, that was something at least. Dream then proceeded to hold him in a bridal style in order to make transportation easier, it’s not like he was going to walk all the way down to the medical wing but he still deemed that necessary. After all, you never know when he’ll have to run away because of something.

In a flick of wrist, they were both sitting on one of the medical wing’s beds. It was unusually silent here, there wasn’t any sound of hushed whispers coming from the doctors nor was there any sound of wincing and whining from patients. It was completely silent, save from Blue’s shaky breath.

Dream frowned, he had completely forgotten about most of the JR staff staying at home today because of the rather disadvantageous weather. The majority of people were unable to use teleportation so it made sense as to why they would want to take the day off in those conditions.

It still didn’t make him want to bang his head against the wall any less though.

Well, he didn’t have much of a choice now did he? He was going to have to take care of those himself. Thankfully though, none of his injuries looked to require any intensive medical treatment like operations or so, most of his cuts looked to be pretty superficial from the looks of it.

He got Blue off of his lap and managed to make him stop clinging onto him for a few with minimal complaint, but that changed when he tried to get up. The shaking man had grabbed Dream’s hand, a worried and anxious look on his face.

“Where are you going?” He asked, voice weak. Dream definitely did not like him feeling that way, he would rather go through a century of the latter making fun of him than seeing him look so frightened.

He turned in his direction, tracing a finger over the back of the other’s hand in hopes it would distract him from whatever demons were haunting him. “I’m just going to get the stuff needed to heal you, I’ll be back soon okay?” Blue’s eyebrows furrowed and his hand squeezed Dream’s even tighter. He didn’t seem to like the idea of staying alone there, even though the other would only be standing a few feet away.

A small sigh escaped him. “Blue, look at me.” Dream’s other hand found its way on Blue’s chin and his pointer lifted it to force the shorter man to look at him. The latter’s azure eyes went up to stare at the other’s golden eyes, unblinking.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, Dream looking like he was debating on his next action. That’s when his fingers left the other’s chin to cup his cheek instead, his face gradually inching closer to the latter’s.

Blue took three solid seconds to realize what was happening and by the time he processed the information, Dream’s lips were already on his. He yelped in surprise, the sound muffled by the kiss.

Dream traced a small circle on his cheek with his thumb, visibly about to stop there. Blue wasn’t having it though so he pulled him down by the collar, put his free hand on the other’s shoulder to keep him there and squeezed his eyes shut, continuing the kiss.

The taller one made a small noise of his own before he kissed back, only pulling away a few seconds later. Blue felt his face heat up, processing what they just did. It’s not like it was the first time they kissed, that event had occurred a couple of times already but somehow that one in particular felt… special.

The winged man turned away, his face having turned red himself. “I’m not going to leave, if that’s what you assumed.” He stated, trying not to let his flustered state influence the way he was talking. He was sure that if his voice wavered just a tiny bit, Blue would never let him live it down. “It won’t take long.”

With that, Dream turned on his heels and walked away, leaving a flustered Blue on the pristine white bed. At least the kiss had the intended effect, whatever had Blue so frightened was now off of his mind and would be for a few.

***

The thunder was still raging on but the couple didn’t seem to notice the rain furiously banging at the windows, way too preoccupied by what they were currently doing. The chestnut-haired one had claimed his place on the other’s lap the second he had come back and had refused to move ever since.

Both his soaked hoodie and shirt laid neatly folded on the nearest chair as his scarf stayed in his hands, Dream having failed to have him let go of it. He knew how important his scarf was to him so he didn’t try to insist any further, him accepting to take it off already being a miracle.

The blonde also had his jacket shed off in order to get the blood away from Blue, who was actively struggling to look away from his own wounds by focusing on the other. He let out a wince though when the tissue immersed in alcohol had touched a cut on his chest, he knew that disinfecting the wound was essential but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Sorry.” Dream apologized quietly, eyes still narrowed in concentration on the task at hand. Treating a wound wasn’t hard per say but when you were this close to the patient, it did become kinda hard. He had done a good job so far though, most of Blue’s wounds have effectively been covered and healed, his face even patched up too.

There were now only some minor ones left, injuries that could be dealt with in a few seconds from now.

Once the final cut was treated, Dream let out a sigh, fixing his posture once more. “There we go, all fixed.” Blue waited until Dream had put down all the bandages and stuff before wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him down so their faces were barely inches apart.

“Angel,” He whined, looking up at Dream with sad puppy eyes. “I’ve been dying the entire duration of that!” He slumped against Dream with a pout before smiling up at him with an innocent face. “Can I get a kiss reward for not making too much noise?”

Dream hummed, feigning thinking about it. “Maybe after a nice shower will that be possible.”

“Together?” He dead panned at him, pretending like his face wasn’t turning pink.

"No. Obviously separately.” He unwrapped the arms around him before standing up, dragging Blue with him and opening a portal. “You can go first, I’ll take what we left there back.”

The other nodded, soon disappearing into the warm golden rift.

***

Blue definitely felt way better now that he took a shower and was basking in the warmth of Dream’s clothes because yes, he let him borrow his clothes this one time. He buried his nose into the fabric, enjoying how the scent of vanilla immediately filled his nozzle.

He let out a pleased breath, before his mood suddenly took a whole 180°C remembering what happened for him to be in that position right now. Before he could dwell any further into it, he heard the lock of the bathroom door click before it swung open, revealing a Dream in a way more comfortable outfit than what he was usually seen wearing.

Blue forced a smile on his face, extending his hands into his direction.

Dream smiled back, walking towards him as requested before he was pulled down into a cuddle. As a response, he only wrapped his arms around him, petting his hair softly. Blue let himself relax into his embrace, repeating in his head that he was with Dream, that he was safe now in hopes he’ll finally believe it.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, silence only broken by the sounds of Blue’s soft breathing and the occasional friction of tissues when one of them would move a leg or something like that.

“Blue?” Dream suddenly called out to him, looking down at him briefly. “Can I ask you something?”

The latter blinked, shifting so their eyes met. He nuzzled into the other’s neck, already having a feeling on what he was going to ask. “Sure, go ahead.” He managed to let out in a casual voice, even though his mind was a complete mess on its own.

“What happened before you went through your portal?” There it was. Blue took a sharp breath, clinging onto Dream’s shirt tightly.

“… It’s a long story.” He eventually said, face still pressed against Dream’s neck. “Before I reply, may I ask some favors out of you?” Dream nodded, now his other hand intertwined with the other’s.

“First, I would like you not to tell anyone else about what I’m going to tell you.” As he spoke, Blue briefly wondered if it was actually a good idea to talk about it to Dream. But then again, it was now obvious that he wasn’t safe almost anywhere and talking about it might help him not only feel better about it but also get rid of the problem in the future.

Dream nodded at that, showing he agreed to the first condition.

“And then…” He paused. “I would like to move in with you, at least for the time being.” Dream froze, his petting halting for a moment.

“You don’t have to decide now.” Blue continued speaking, avoiding looking at his partner. “I’ll let you make up your mind after I tell you what I have to tell.”

That’s when he began counting his story, telling Dream about his childhood and how the man called his brother had made his life completely hell as the latter rubbed comforting patterns on his hand, on his arm, on his leg and pretty much anywhere he could reach while at the same time squeezing his hand in support. Those little touches definitely helped him feel more comfortable telling his story and confirmed that he was, in fact, down bad for the man since any time he changed his rubbing spot, he would blush, interrupting what he was saying with a little stutter.

If Dream had noticed, he didn’t show it. He has simply been patiently waiting for the other to finish his story, visibly holding back a string of curses at several points in the story.

Then he debuted the part of the universe collapsing, and how he pushed his brother off the cliff.

“I was convinced that I killed him.” He confessed, snuggling even closer to Dream. “I saw him disappear into the void and for me, that was the end of it all. I didn’t feel any regret when I did it whether it be during or after the act.”

One would think Dream would have said something about that confession but he believed in justified murder and that one ticked all the boxes for him, if he were the one who caught him, he would have been executed anyway. Parasites like him had no place to keep in that multiverse.

“But then…” Blue swallowed, already feeling the tears gathering in his eyes. He felt one of Dream’s golden wings wrap itself around his waist, tickling his legs and he let out a sigh. It was so soft.

“But then,” He retried with a shaky voice. “I found him waiting for me at my house. As to what happened next… well I think you can guess.”

The second those words left his mouth, he broke into sobs again. As an answer, the blond man hugged him tightly, peppering his face with kisses.

“It was very brave of you to talk about it with me, thank you for that.” Blue let out a hiccup, burying his face into his shoulder. “As for him, I’ll do my best so he never hurts you again.” His eyes narrowed, the light inside of them fizzling out for a brief moment.

“But for now, let’s go to sleep. How does that sound?” With that, they both fell asleep, cuddling so much they looked like a mess of limbs from an outside perspective.

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dullahandyke · 1 year

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cant be bothered to make mulitple posts. have one post with many contents, it is like a treasure chest. also whoops got long teehee take a readmore

BOOBS. boobs. tits and boobs. soft and eueueuugughghghgh fun to squish and heavy and smell nice. society if i had someone to fool around with. kissing doesnt sound that appealing but if i played w someones boobs it would fix me i think. sorry. not sorry actually #liveyourtruth. whaever im 19 i can post abt whatever i want n what i wanna post abt is boobs

not to hammer home an old thought but god i wish i lived in a town or a village or a city... theres literally fuck all to do here unless i wanna bug my parents for a ride into town so instead i just sit inside n its kind of detrimental to my social life n indepence. like on the plus side, i might have considered taking up vaping in a calculated 'swapping one vice for another' way if living in the middle of a field didnt make getting my hands on any on a regular basis so utterly implausible, so like its good detterant in that way, but also like man do you know how psyched i would be to be able to walk to the cinema. walk to any store where i could buy things. u know how long google maps says it would take to walk to my local library? two hours. cant even go anywhere to hang out on a whim or without enough reason to justify bothering my parents abt it. like all going well ill hopefully be in the city for college come september but like. killing and bitingggggg

graduating in a week and AUGH on one hand out the gap waheyyy only a month until exams are DONE FOREVER (until college) but on the other hand, fuck man im never gonna see this school again, i barely hang out w my friends outside of school unless its someones 18th which in practice means that after the debs thats IT!!!!!oh my god im going to DIE, i need to go find cliodna on instagram so i can follow her because shes nice. ill be sitting in random classrooms in school lately n be hit w the fucking melancholy because im like oh boy soon i'll never see this place again and its like... intellectually i know that i am not one to dwell on shit like this after its happened, as evidenced by the 'oh god my friends are all going off to college, itll only be me and the kiddies in the youth theatre next year' crisis i had last spring, after which i was Fine Actually and rarely even thought of the ppl who left bcos i have the object permanence of a 2 month old, and in practice this summer is gonna be the same as every summer is and i didnt see a single one of my irls during summer last year and i was fine but like.... idk man knowing its the end.... kills

speaking of which, oh my GOD the leaving starts in *checks watch* 22 DAYS. FUCK. like the points i need for my course are actually pitiful like but 🥺 wanna do good... do i regularly and loudly disparage the english course and maintain that the only real measure of one's writing capabilities is your own evaluation? yes! do i still want a H1? also yes! it would be the easiest thing in the world if i was less opinionated but luckily i AM that opinionated. also god. biology the day before history.... death. ive not been paying attention to either class for literally the past few months, im gonna have to kick it into high gear when i graduate bcos lbr im gonna get my shit together enough to pay attention until im not in school anymore.

thinking about boobs again. would like to hold some. an irl's school shirt keeps shifting so i can see her boobs thru the button gaps and im heeueuugueugh

eating a mini viennese ice cream or whatever its called n its good 👍🏻 hard to type w tho

boobs again. hhhahwhauhghah!

my ass hurt. done.

#vent #<- ig #long post

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bananaofswifts · 3 years

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By Paul Tingen

From sketches to final mixes, engineer Jonathan Low spent 2020 overseeing Taylor Swift’s hit lockdown albums folklore and evermore.

“I think the theme of a lot of my work nowadays, and especially with these two records, is that everything is getting mixed all the time. I always try to get the songs to sound as finalised as they can be. Obviously that’s hard when you’re not sure yet what all the elements will be. Tracks morph all the time, and yet everything is always moving forwards towards completion in some way. Everything should sound fun and inspiring to listen to all the time.”

Speaking is Jonathan Low, and the two records he refers to are, of course, Taylor Swift’s 2020 albums folklore and evermore, both of which reached number one in the UK and the US. Swift’s main producer and co‑writer on the two albums was the National’s Aaron Dessner, also interviewed in this issue. Low is the engineer, mixer and general right‑hand man at Long Pond Studios in upstate New York, where he and Dessner spent most of 2020 working on folklore and evermore, with Swift in Los Angeles for much of the time.

“In the beginning it did not feel real,” recalls Low. “There was this brand‑new collaboration, and it was amazing how quickly Aaron made these instrumental sketches and Taylor wrote lyrics and melodies to them, which she initially sent to us as iPhone voice memos. During our nightly family dinners in lockdown, Aaron would regularly pull up his phone and say, ‘Listen to this!’ and there would be another voice memo from Taylor with this beautiful song that she had written over a sketch of Aaron’s in a matter of hours. The rate at which it was happening was mind‑blowing. There was constant elevation, inspiration and just wanting to continue the momentum.

“We put her voice memos straight into Pro Tools. They had tons of character, because of the weird phone compression and cutting midrange quality you just would not get when you put someone in front of a pristine recording chain. Plus there was all this bleed. It’s interesting how that dictates the attitude of the vocal and of the song. Even though none of the original voice memos ended up on the albums, they often gave us unexpected hints. These voice memos were such on‑a‑whim things, they were really telling. Taylor had certain phrasings and inflections that we often returned to later on. They became our reference points.”

Sketching Sessions

“The instrumental sketches Aaron makes come into being in different ways,” elaborates Low. “Sometimes they are more fleshed‑out ideas, sometimes they are less formed. But normally Aaron will set himself up in the studio, surrounded by instruments and synths, and he’ll construct a track. Once he feels it makes some kind of sense I’ll come in and take a listen and then we together develop what’s there.

“I don’t call his sketches demos, because while many instruments are added and replaced later on, most of the original parts end up in the final version of the song. We try to get the sketches to a place where they are already very engaging as instrumental tracks. Aaron and I are always obsessively listening, because we constantly want to hear things that feel inspiring and musical, not just a bed of music in the background. It takes longer to create, but in this case also gave Taylor more to latch onto, both emotionally and in terms of musical inspiration. Hearing melodies woven in the music triggered new melodies.”

Not long after Dessner and Low sent each sketch to Swift, they would receive her voice memos in return, and they’d load them into the Pro Tools session of the sketch in question. Dessner and Low then continued to develop the songs, in close collaboration with Swift. “Taylor’s voice memos often came with suggestions for how to edit the sketches: maybe throw in a bridge somewhere, shorten a section, change the chords or arrangement somewhere, and so on. Aaron would have similar ideas, and he then developed the arrangements, often with his brother Bryce, adding or replacing instruments. This happened fast, and became very interactive between us and Taylor, even though we were working remotely. When we added instruments, we were reacting to the way my rough mixes felt at the very beginning. Of course, it was also dictated by how Taylor wrote and sang to the tracks.”

Dessner supplied sketches for nine and produced 10 of folklore’s 16 songs, playing many different types of guitars, keyboards and synths as well as percusion and programmed drums. Instruments that were added later include live strings, drums, trombone, accordion, clarinet, harpsichord and more, with his brother Bryce doing many of the orchestrations. Most overdubs by other musicians were done remotely as well. Throughout, Low was keeping an overview of everything that was going on and mixing the material, so it was as presentable and inspiring as possible.

Mixing folklore

Although Dessner has called folklore an “anti‑pop album”, the world’s number‑one pop mixer Serban Ghenea was drafted in to mix seven tracks, while Low did the remainder.

“It was exciting to have Serban involved,” explains Low, “because he did things I’d never do or be able to do. The way the vocal sits always at the forefront, along with the clarity he gets in his mixes, is remarkable. A great example of this is on the song ‘epiphany’. There is so much beautiful space and the vocal feels effortlessly placed. It was really interesting to hear where he took things, because we were so close to the entire process in every way. Hearing a totally new perspective was eye‑opening and refreshing.

“Throughout the entire process we were trying to maintain the original feel. Sometimes this was hard, because that initial rawness would get lost in large arrangements and additional layering. With revisions of folklore in particular we sometimes were losing the emotional weight from earlier more casual mixes. Because I was always mixing, there was also always the danger of over‑mixing.

“We were trying to get the best of each mix version, and sometimes that meant stepping backwards, and grabbing a piano chain from an earlier mix, or going three versions back to before we added orchestration. There were definitely moments of thinking, ‘Is this going to compete sonically? Is this loud enough?’ We knew we loved the way the songs sounded as we were building them, so we stuck with what we knew. There were times where I tried to keep pushing a mix forward but it didn’t improve the song — ‘cardigan’ is an example of a song where we ended up choosing a very early mix.”

Onward & Upward

folklore was finished and released in July 2020. In a normal world everyone might have gone on to do other things, but without the option of touring, they simply continued writing songs, with Low holding the fort. In September, many of the musicians who played on the album gathered at Long Pond for the shooting of a making‑of documentary, folklore: the long pond studio sessions, which is streamed on Disney+.

The temporary presence of Swift at Long Pond changed the working methods somewhat, as she could work with Dessner in the room, and Low was able record her vocals. After Swift left again, sessions continued until December, when evermore was released, with Dessner producing or co‑producing all tracks, apart from ‘gold rush’ which was co‑written and co‑produced by Swift and Antonoff. Low recorded many of Swift’s vocals for evermore, and mixed the entire album. The lead single ‘willow’ became the biggest hit from the album, reaching number one in the US and number three in the UK.

“Before Taylor came to Long Pond,” remembers Low, “she had always recorded her vocals for folklore remotely in Los Angeles or Nashville. When I recorded, I used a modern Telefunken U47, which is our go‑to vocal mic — we record all the National stuff with that — going straight into the Siemens desk, and then into a Lisson Grove AR‑1 tube compressor, and via a Burl A‑D converter into Pro Tools. Taylor creates and lays down her vocal arrangements very quickly, and it sounds like a finished record in very few takes.”

Devils In The Detail

In his mixes, Low wanted listeners to share his own initial response to these vocal performances. “The element that draws me in is always Taylor’s vocals. The first time I received files with her properly recorded but premixed vocals I was just floored. They sounded great, even with minimal EQ and compression. They were not the way I’m used to hearing her voice in her pop songs, with the vocal soaring and sitting at the very front edge of the soundscape. In these raw performances, I heard so much more intimacy and interaction with the music. It was wonderful to hear her voice with tons of detail and nuances in place: her phrasing, her tonality, her pitch, all very deliberate. We wanted to maintain that. It’s more emotional, and it sounds so much more personal to me. Then there was the music...”

The arrangements on evermore are even more ‘chamber pop’ than on folklore, with instruments like glockenspiel, crotales, flute, French horn, celeste and harmonium in evidence. “As listeners of the National may know, Aaron’s and Bryce’s arrangements can be quite dense. They love lush orchestration, all sorts of percusion, synths and other electronic sounds. The challenge was trying to get them to speak, without getting in the way of the vocals. I want a casual listener to be drawn in by the vocal, but sense that something special is happening in the music as well. At the same time, someone who really is digging in can fully immerse themselves and take in all the beauty deeper in the details of the sound and arrangement. Finding the balance between presenting all the musical elements that were happening in the arrangement and this really beautiful, upfront, real‑sounding vocal was the ticket.

“A particular challenge is that a lot of the detail that Aaron gravitates towards happens in the low mids, which is a very warm part of our hearing spectrum that can quickly become too muddy or too woolly. A lot of the tonal and musical information lives in the low mids, and then the vocal sits more in the midrange and high mids. There’s not too much in the higher frequency range, except the top of the guitars, and some elements like a shaker and the higher buzzy parts of the synths. Maintaining clarity and separation in those often complex arrangements was a major challenge.”

#taylor swift #folklore

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thepeakyfckingblinders · 4 years

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Never Again || Thomas Shelby x reader

credits to @saralou23 for the gif

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “can I request a fic where the reader is found unconscious or faints in the shop or something and tommy freaks out? I just find protective tommy so ❤️💓💟!! Thank you, your writing is absolutely INCREDIBLE” (Thank you so much honeybun, you’re making me blush, pls, forgive me for being late ❤️)

Warnings: swearing, bossy Tommy, basically Tommy freaking out and being overprotective, me always loving him with all of my mangled soul

Author’s notes:

I hope you are okay darlings, I love you, please stay safe ♡

I’m so sorry for being this late, I have no excuses, forgive me. Also the end sucks, but I’m struggling with my writing lately, so, sorry again.

I love protective Thomas so much, he’s an ass, but he’s a softie, and I’m gonna lose my mind some day.

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

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ENJOY!

Birmingham’s gelid air hit your sensitive skin with no mercy as soon as your red mary-janes crossed the doorway of the Garrison, only to disgracefully sink into the greyish muddy loam in which the whole of Small Heath seemed to be covered.

Your fingers felt like rigid appendages burdening your already wearied arms, while you tried your best to wrap them around your coat’s edges, in a disperate effort to keep that warm tissue on your bulging clavicles left exposed by the woollen dress you were wearing. No matter how many heavy clothes you decided to put on, that implacable cold still succeeded in making you feel constantly out of forces, debilitated to the core; it had always been that way, since you were nothing more than a little girl obliged to spend one every two months confined in your bedroom, afflicted by incredibly high fever and sometimes even bronchitis.

Truth was that your body had never got used to England’s humid weather, yet, even though you poor healt had previously put you in danger, for your sake, thanks to the enormous progresses made by medicine in the past fifteen years, it was now easy to fight against the ruthless chill of those endless winters. Plus, since the earliest days of your attendence, your wardrobe had been perpetually refreshed with high-quality pieces perfectly in step with the times, for your fiancée had been literally covering you in furs and duvets of all kinds, concerned as he was that you could’ve eventually caught another bad fever, whose deathly consequences he had already experienced on his own thick skin. And for no reason in the world he would’ve even risked to lose you too.

So, as everybody could’ve easily predicted, Thomas was perennially paying attention to your wellbeing: the most famous specialists from inside and outside the United Kingdom had come directly to your country house; if one thing could be taken for granted, it was that your medications would always be settled on your side cabinet, together with a glass of fresh water, every day and every night; and, come hell or high water, he would accompany you during your routine visits to the hospital, even when it meant leaving all of his business without any prior warning.

Needless to say, you were perfectly able to do those things on your own -pheraps except for getting a crowd of world renowned doctors in your living room- and you sure as hell had tried to persuade him that there was no need at all for being so preoccupied all the time; still, he was Tommy Shelby, he simply couldn’t help it.

The concern for his loved ones’ lives kept stealing his sleep, even on those nights when there was no trace of imminent dangers on the horizon, it kept excoriating the insides of his drained brains, to the point that, more than once, you’d had to sleep alone in your immense king-size bed or reach for him in his study, curling up on one of his uncomfortable armchairs, ready to appease his fears as best you could. In short, for as much as you needed him to relax, you were still able to understand his protective behavior, against which, as a matter of fact, no one could do much; thus you at least tried not to give him more reasons to be worried by paying some extra attention to all those small things you could solve without Tommy even knowing about it. Regularly taking your iron tablets, for example. Nonetheless, it had now been already a week since the Peaky Blinders had started a brand new business involving in effect every metalworking factory in and around Birmingham, and the whole family, you and Tom included, had been so turbulently tied up with work to let every other thought and need slither on the back burner. As a direct consequence, your doctor’s latest prescription was unfortunately left lying on the bottom of your drawer, that being the fourth day in a row you’d spent without taking those pills, and, even though everything appeared to be going well until then, that one Thursday morning your period eventually came and stroke the fatal blow, having you feel so faint and aching that, all of a sudden, the few metres separating your side of the street from the betting shop seemed to implausibly dilate right under your blurred vision, a vexing sense of nausea assaulting your empty stomach led you to lean against a lamppost, your skin still crawling beneath all those heavy tissues. Dizziness and lethargy almost took over your sore mind, before you shook your head with an abrupt move in a bid to dispel those unpleasent sensations; clients would’ve arrived in less than a hour, Esme had taken John’s kids on a brief fieldtrip, Michael was already in his office, the boys were making their usual rounds of the mills, Finn and Isaiah were dealing with a couple folks in need back at the Garrison and Polly was nowhere in sight, which made you the only available blinder for the opening and, with Friday’s race approaching, there was no way the box-office could remain shut. Hence, more determined than ever, you chocked down the knot forming in your throat due to queasiness and just forced youself to put one foot in front of the other onto the dusty road, until you reached the shop door, not without the risk of tripping over multiple times in the process. Your frozen fingers clutched to the small side-wall now carring all of your weight, whilst your lungs tried to let in as much air as possible. And it worked, each plodding breath seemed to fight your sickness, also your heartbeat was gradually slowing down, thus you shut your eyelids and continued to inhale deeply for a full minute, before your trembilng hand managed to finally turn the key in the lock, giving you free access to the place.

However, the small click produced by the latch closing again did not live to reach your ears, for they were already brimful of ominous hisses, in a scant moment a bulk of hypnotic grey worms prevented you from seeing anything else, they relentlessly squirmed in front of your dilated pupils, that repulsing view sending brutal shooks straight to your clenched stomach, again. And, before you even had a chance to realize what was going on, your brain completely blacked out.

~ ~ ~

Words would not be sufficient to describe the fright taking over Arthur’s features the second your inert silhouette entered his line of sight. Just returned from their daily patrol, he had indeed noticed a small crowd waiting outside the office, cursing and fussing because of the lacked opening, and that alone had been weird enough for him to punch and kick his way up to the entrance, profanities spilling from his mustached mouth every time somebody’s elbow digged into his ribcage, inducing him to hit back so to stand his ground, only to eventually find himself powerless in front of that ghastly scene. It took him a while to recover from the shock, yet the eldest Shelby eventually regained control of his limbs and moved towards your shape with a single step.

“Polly! Pol, come here, for God’s sake!” Those hoarse yells filled the room, reverberating through the brickwalls, so loud that they could’ve been heard from the other side of the city, Arthur fell on his knees right beside you, gently placing a hand under your nape in order to lift your head. Blind panic streaming in his veins kept him for thinking clearly, he didn’t know what to do, thus he simply shook you from your shoulders, hoping in vain to see your eyes fly back open, but your neck just bent backwards.

“Where the hell is that bloody woman when I need her?!” he grunted those words in between his teeth while tigthening his grip on you, then his chest raised in a sharp move: “Jesus Christ, Polly!” He shouted once more, this time conveying all of his breath and blood towards his larynx, his abrasive voice shriveled and insisted on the last letters of his aunt’s name, until swift strides frantically hit the creaking steps, announcing Polly’s arrive. Her eyes struggled to remain open, her left palm was pressed against her forehead in a silly attempt to soothe the tremendous headache resulted from the previous night’s booze, she didn’t even have the time to put proper clothing on, since her mad niece was apparentely going berserk. “You, son of a bastard-” cursed words died underneath her tongue when she understood what was going on, soon her feet took on a life of their own, as they picked up their peace, leading her next to your body now held in Arthur’s arms.

“She’s freezing, Pol, she’s a fucking chunk of ice!” Hiccoughs shattered his worried cries, he almost whined, shifting his gaze from yours to Polly’s face over and over again, she, on the other hand, used the whole lenght of her right arm to clear in one smooth motion the closest desk. “Quick, lay her here” The deafening noise produced by those items colliding with the pavement barely grazed her hears, whilst she nodded to herself in the effort to impose some order on her obfuscated head, searching for a prompt solution that was late in coming, to the point that Finn beat it to the draw and stormed in, pointing a loaded gun to each corner of the room with fear in his cerulean irises. “What the hell’s going on?” That hysterical question echoed through the place, even though the young boy was finding it hard to get his breath, due to the crazy run he had made to reach the shop immediately after hearing that insane screaming. Nonetheless, in the space of an instant, he saw you as well and fell utterly silent, violent dismay caught him off guard, his wide eyes hesitated on your motionless figure; all of a sudden he didn’t know what to think, nor he could get the thought of your death out of his brains.

“My God, she’s as pale as death” Finn let his mind talk through that throttled murmur, regretting it right away, for silty goosebumps crawled on his skin under the pungent pressure of his brother’s instantaneous lethal glare. “Don’t talk shit, kid! Just fucking go and get Tom!”

The redhead didn’t waste any time, he somehow managed to recollect his guts and steadily disappeared behind the door previously left open. While struggling for air and internally searching for the right words to say in front of Thomas, Finn covered the whole distance between the office and the Garrison. Labored gasps coming out of his slightly parted lips in louder groans as he slammed the heavy pub’s doors open, using only his strongest shoulder; both Harry and Isaiah watched him run towards the back room where Tommy was going through the books, they did not dare spill a word and, after all, the boy didn’t even look in their direction, such was his concentration. Still, once he reached the place, all of a sudden his tongue felt dry, his well-organised speech faded away.

“Finn?! What’s wrong?” Tom’s icy eyes were now staring at him through his round glasses, the paper he’d been reading was instantly dropped, although his tone remained steady. “Y-you need to come, now! She... she’s-” A frown formed upon Tommy’s marble face at his little brother’s furious rambling, something wasn’t right, that was crystal clear, yet he wasn’t able to keep up with those hasty and stuttered sentences, so he approached him, putting both his hands on Finn’s shoulders in order to give him a little shove and maybe get some decent information. “Breathe, kid, and tell me what’s going on” That deep, adamant tone somehow sounded scarier than usual roaring inside the boy’s head, hence anxiety definitively won him over, gaining complete control of his mouth too. “It’s Y/n! I don’t fucking know, Tom, s-she looks dead!” All at once, time and space seemed to collapse around him, one single second dilated, covering the space of a whole lifetime beyond his vacant blue irises now fixed on an undetermined spot of the white wall behind Finn’s back. A gruesome, yet familiar sensation raided his petrified body, it felt like having a beast’s fangs gnawing his throat off, lacerating his flesh to the bone, he could sense every little laceration, his chest being plundered, till even his sable heart was eradicated and then mauled. A strangled wheeze barely lived through his plump lips, that being the only sound he uttered, then his black pupils shrinked and immediately twitched, nailing his sibiling’s gaze. Without receiving an order from his brain, his fists violently gripped Finn’s jacket at the height of his biceps, bringing him a span away from his gnashed teeth with a sharp pull. “Where?” He snarled liked a rabid dog, striking, if possible, geater terror in the young man who struggled to spit an almost inaudible “The shop”, before being shoved against the doorframe as Tommy dodged him and rushed out.

~ ~ ~

Polly held the bottle of her almond parfume she’d just put under your nostrils as if her life depended on it, Arthur’s rough palm, instead, began to pat your pasty cheek. “C’mon, love, wake up! Don’t play games, c’mon!” The dorsum of that same hand now poking the left side of your face, and then going back to the other, at incredible speed. You started to feel your face again when his nudges grew in intensity, until he was practically slapping you; soon a tremendous metallic taste invaded your mouth, or rather, you finally sensed it, whilst your eyelids battled against gravity to get back up. Arthur noticed it, he detected that brief flinch and it felt like being pampered with a fresh breeze after days of unsustainable heat. “Oh, fuck, I think I’m having a stroke” His tone held extreme urgency as he grasped for air, tugging with two fingers at his shirt collar; sure, he was great at knocking people off, maybe the best, yet, unfortunately, after that he’d never tried to bring somenody back with the living.

Blinding light rended your shrouded eyes, everything appeared blurred to the point that you couldn’t distinguish Polly’s features, although she was right beside you; nor your hearing was working, since the loud thud produced by the wooden door hitting the brickwall, and then your name barked by your fiancée’s coarse voice, sounded muffled to your ears. With a superhuman effort you succeeded in tilting your face towards the entrance, you recognized the navy-blue suit Thomas had chosen to wear earlier in the moring, still those nebulous images reached your brains with extreme delay, it was like watching vague movie scenes stream in slow motion. Your eyelids blinked as if a plumbeous burden was anchored to them, each flutter seemed to last a full minute, so that you perceived Tom coming to you in multiple shattered motions, while he kept calling you. The moment Tommy furiously jostled against Arthur, in order to take his place by the desk, you gradually went back to see and hear clearly, now being able to seize pure dread sailing those mesmerizing ocean eyes. “Thank goodness, y/n” His big palms envelopped both your cheeks, slightly squeezing them as he lift your neck, revealing all of his hidden delicacy that you, and you only, were able to bring out. “Y/n, love, talk to me” That order came out like a prayer, his voice betraying him once too often, his fingers shaking with worry, while one of his hands held your chin and the other went to caress your locks. Those loving strokes brushed against your skin, slowly infusing a little warmth into your gelid body, he touched you with the unbearable fear of watching you pass away in between his arms, having him struggle to breathe properly. “Do you hear me?” a single, salty drop fell from his long eyelashes and poured your lower lip, you heard his voice crack, distorting, until it became nothing more than a faint whine: “Please, love, talk to me” When his forehead pressed against yours, he finally gave in to the tears that had been held back with drastic ostination, shutting his eyes for a few instants he allowed brutal sobs to trounce his already aching chest. However, that moment of raw weakness was soon restrained, so that you returned to stare into his blue irises. Then, a small grin crossed your pale mouth and, even though your throat felt like gasoline on fire, preventing you from pronouncing a single syllable, you managed to guide your tiny hand to cup his sharp cheekbone. A burning kiss was pressed on its dorsum, before Tommy completely leant into your touch, giving you a look halfway between relief and disperation, he covered your hand with his own, holding it tight. “You’re okay, you’re safe” Those soft murmurs escaped his lips, probably aimed to placate the axphyziating terror still intoxicating his veins. Indeed, as hard as it was to conceive for everybody in that room, although you were the one just recovering from a sudden collapse, Tommy was now the one trembling like a fallen leaf, his arms rested on each side of your shape, sustaining his weight, as he barely stood on his own two feet. Slowly, you regained the necessary strenght to lift your bust, leading him to flutter in your direction, promptly enlacing his forearms around your waist in order to support your movements. “Hold onto me, darling, take it slow” His raspy voice was still unsteady and full of concern, he was holding his breath out of fear, gazing at you with wide eyes and tightening the grip on your hips as if to make sure that you wouldn’t vanish in his palms. You, on the other hand, gave him a rassuring smile, caressing his face mutliple times and placing a brief kiss on his mouth. “I’m fine, Tommy, I’m here with you” you eventually spoke close to his ear so to keep that conversation between the two of you “Let go, my love, I’m here” Your lips accidentally brushed against his forehead once he listened to you and abandoned himself to your tender embrace, gradually drowning into your soft chest while his arms clung on to your figure, his fingertips almost piercing the thick material of your dress as your cheek covered his head, totally annihilating the distance. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. Never again”.

tag list: @spidey-pal, @shadow-of-wonder, @stassaurus, @peachlle, @livvtheangel, @myjbphase, @namelesslosers, @crazyonesarethebest, @vxxn128, @keithseabrook27, @spaghettirogers, @writingstudent, @hp-hogwartsexpress , @eggingamazinglove, @geeksareunique, @cailoleaf, @simonsbluee , @hereforsmutandfluff, @starxtt, @jenepleurepasbaby, @staygold-bebold, @marvelschriss, @captivatedbycillianmurphy

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romiantic · 3 years

Note

this is me, slipping into your asks from your friends blog! idk if you saw the request but i’d love a bokuto fic where his s/o is having a rough natural hair day, i am currently ... struggling lol. thank you angel!!!

𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭

reading: black!fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.6k

request: this is me, slipping into your asks from your friends blog! idk if you saw the request but i’d love a bokuto fic where his s/o is having a rough natural hair day, i am currently ... struggling lol. thank you angel!!!

a/n: I’m am SOOOO sorry for the wait sis 😭 but I really do hope you enjoy

Another one. For the past two hours, you’ve managed to break three scrunchies and your rat tail comb. You groaned in huge frustration, trying to figure out why your hair isn’t working out for you. “What the fuck?! Work with me, DAMN!” You harshly combed out your hair and SNAP! You brought back down the wide tooth and saw the comb snapped in half. In fury, you threw the comb across the room.

“This thing acting like I won’t shave it off and call it a day.” You complained out loud while pulling on your hair and trying to figure out what to do.

“Babyyy! Y/N!” What a relief! Your handsome, six foot two, volleyball playing boyfriend came into your shared home, happy to be home with his beautiful girlfriend. Typically you would yell back hello if you were busy or come into his large body and give him a tight hug as he tells you how his day went and give you multiple forehead kisses.

But today you didn’t. You haven’t left your vanity and glued yourself to your seat as out loudly cursed your hair. Seeing that you didn’t welcome him home, he looked around the house to see where you were until he met a frustrated you pulling at your hair. Bokuto was actually used to your bad hair days so he knew how to approach you whenever your hair didn’t feel like cooperating.

He put his bag down next to the couch and quietly crept into your shared bedroom. Instead of greeting you with loudness, he wanted to comfort you and distract you from the thing that was stressing you the most. He walked behind you and snaked his arm around your waist, giving you a soft hug as he softly said, “Hello y/n, did you miss me?”

You got scared at his touch but calmed down at the hearing of his soft voice talking to you. You slightly turned to face your boyfriend and smiled at his golden eyes trying to calm you down. You took a breather from all the stress and answered, “Of course Kotaro, why wouldn’t I miss you? You’ve been gone all day.”

“You seemed frustrated when I came and you didn’t say hello.” He curved a slight downward smile, “You didn’t even give me a hello hug, you always give me a hello hug.”

You sighed and kissed his cheek to reassure him, “I’m fine babe, it’s just that my hair is not working with me at all.” Bokuto looked at your hair then back at you, mentally solving how he can fix your hair problem.

DING! Something hit him and grew happy at his idea. He smiled widely and asked you, “Y/N can I do your hair? Please please pleaseee. The way you style your hair is so pretty and I wanna try it myself.” The man kept begging you until you finally agreed, “Okay okay Bokuto, you can do my hair. But fuck it up and you’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”

“Don’t worry y/n, I got this.” Of course your boyfriend had confidence that he knew exactly what he was doing since he saw you do your hair literally almost every day. For date nights, games, work, any occasion, he would just sit on the bed and watch you work your ways on your hair until it becomes a masterpiece. Always leaving the white/black hair man in awe of what you can do with two hands. One of the great gifts of having a black girlfriend if he does say so himself.

You got off your chair and took a seat on the carpeted floor. While Bokuto went to go shower and put on a change of clothes cause he knows you don’t like having his sweat roaming the room. After, he took a seat at your vanity and looked at your hair supplies spreaded around. He thought about what style he should do on you, there’s so many to choose from and you would look good in all of them but which one?

You looked at him and saw a concerned look on him, you asked, “Something wrong Bo?”

“I don’t know what I wanna do, I mean what I can do to make my baby even prettier than she is now?” You lightly laughed at his compliment, and his thinking face that he had on.

Finally, a style came to mind, one that was simple yet he loved seeing you in it. Before starting, he collected all of the supplies that were needed and got to work on your hair. At first it was silence surrounding the two of you until Bokuto excitedly started talking about how practice went.

“Y/N you should’ve seen me at practice today! The way I was hitting those spikes was literal perfection, I barely missed any. Oh, we had this five-on-five game today and I got to be team captain.”

“It brought back old memories didn’t it?” You smiled at the memory of seeing Bokuto in his high school uniform, fulfilling his captain role, putting a smile on his team's faces for scoring, and being one of the greatest aces in Japan of course.

“Yup! Feels like old times when it would be Akaashi setting the ball for me and the great ace, that’s me, comes flying in, spiking it and getting another score. Now it’s Atsumu setting for me and Hinata cheering me on, I think Sakusa cheered for me too, don’t remember.”

“Last time I remember Sakusa cheered was when Hinata actually didn’t fuck up his quick attack with Atsumu.” You two laughed at the memory of Sakusa being somewhat excited at Hinata for not missing the ball or spiking it too late.

The conversation continued on about practice until Bokuto decided that it was your turn to speak. You spoke about it as Bokuto was all ears, listening to you, even though you were mostly cooped up in this house since it was your day off from work.

You stopped talking to take a peek at what your boyfriend was doing until he firmly pushed you back down on the carpet. He commented that you would ruin the process, he needs to focus, and that he wants you to wait until the end.

“But Bo-”

“Nope y/n, you have to wait.”

You furrowed your brows at him, “It’s my hair Kotaro, why can’t I see?”

“Trust the process y/n! Don’t you always do that with your hair?”

You let a ‘hmph’ and crossed your arms, “At least I get to see what I’m doing.”

Bokuto gave a wide smile to your grouchy face, “You’re gonna love it y/n, I promise.”

You peeped Bokuto grabbing rubber bands, giving you some ideas of what he could be up to. “And I’m holding you to that promise.”

To make time fly by, the two of you had random conversations that led into a whole nother topic than before. One minute you’re talking about getting new furniture then the next, you’re talking about the coral reef. At some point, you guys even had an odd conversation about weird habits that people do.

“Anddd done y/n.” Bokuto scooted back the chair and got up from it, giving you room to get up and take a look at your hair. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped at the work your boyfriend did. You were honestly caught by surprise that your boyfriend could do something like that with your hair. Styling it a large puff with black and white rubber band style going across.

Meanwhile, Bokuto was chewing his lip and getting nervous, wondering whether or not you liked it. He knew how much you loved your hair and he wouldn’t wanna do anything to mess up your beautiful curls/coils. “Do- do you like it y/n?”

You turned around, seeing your face lit up washed away his nerves and giving him a breath of relief. You immediately jumped on him, which caught him by surprise and made him lean back, landing on the bed with you still on him. You responded,”I love it Kotaro! You did such an amazing job and this style is bomb as hell, where did you learn how to do that?”

“After that failed attempt at doing your hair, your great boyfriend, that’s me, went on Youtube to learn how to do different hairstyles with your hair. I really loved this style and I spent hours learning it, but I say it was worth it.”

You smiled at his answer, it made you giddy inside that your boyfriend takes time out of his day to learn how to do your hair. Your hair! One that was definitely different from his natural spiked up hair. This kind of dedication made you fall in love with him even more than before.

You gave him a large smile and kissed him, “It was definitely worth it Bokuto cause I fucking love it. Plus I think it’s cute that you tried to match with the black and white rubber bands.”

“I’m so happy you love it y/n.”

You kissed his cheek and said, “I’m even more happy that I have a boyfriend like you.”

“Besides, what if we have a kid y/n? I can’t leave it to you to do all the work. I wanna have little daddy-daughter dates and do her hair while I’m showing her volleyball videos.”

You laughed at him, “You’re gonna stuff our future daughter’s brain with volleyball and make them say ‘One touch’ instead of ‘mama’. But I think that’s so sweet of you Bokuto.” You hugged your boyfriend and he hugged you back even tighter, “That and I didn’t like seeing my baby frustrated.”

“Next time my hair doesn’t cooperate, I’ll just call you for help.”

“Call me Bokuto, the great hair superhero!” You two laughed at the superhero name and shared the moment of happiness and content surrounding the two of you. Honestly, you couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend besides Kotaro Bokuto himself.

omg I finally finished it, wow I’m proud of myself

I haven’t written in a superrrr long time but hopefully I can get back and write regularly

bye babes, drink your water, stay hydrated, and remember that you are the baddest bitch on the planet 🥰 no matter what ANYONE says

𝐏𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝟐𝟕:𝟏𝟒 💗

#bokuto x black!reader #bokuto x black reader #haikyuu x black!reader #haikyuu x black reader #kotaro bokuto #x black reader #black y/n

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baroquebucky · 3 years

Text

house plants

in which bucky has a green thumb and you don’t, but god do you love plants.

masterlist

a/n: hi guys 0.0 sorry for like dying on y’all, college was ROUGH but I’m on break now !! so I’ll try to be more active hehe i hope you guys enjoy! I’m getting they some requests and I’ll post them later i just rlly wanted to get dis one out there hehe also this was way longer than i expected it to be uhm

you smiled at the small succulent in the passenger seat, “okay, i may have gotten you on a whim, but i will not let you die on me, you will be my new daughter” you nodded your head confidently as you grabbed the other groceries, balancing a small succulent in one hand.

“Buck? I’m home!” You stated, hurrying to set everything down and softly plancing the plant on the counter. You smiled brightly at it before turning on your heel to find Bucky.

“I’ll help in a bit i just need to find something” he spoke, you headed toward the room, finding him looking around helplessly, “what are you looking for?” You questioned, sitting on the bed and laughing as he tore apart the room.

“i remembered i had this t shirt i really liked and now i can’t find it anywhere, i looked through all my cabinets and it’s nowhere in sight” he huffed and you smiled.

“did you check my closet?” you quipped and he furrowed his brows, mumbling as he looked through your shirts before pulling out a black long sleeve, he smiled as he held it close to his chest.

“how did you even get this? You didn’t go through my drawers did you?” he worried, something flashing in his eyes, but it was gone before you could notice. He quickly grabbed it and put it on, kissing you on the cheek as he walked out the door, “no i didn’t and plus you barely used it so i stole it” you shrugged.

“okay now that you have your shirt, you are legally not allowed to be mad at me” you began, running infront of him and blocking the plant from his view.

“y/n, doll please tell me you didn’t get a cat” he sighed and you shook your head, “no, however i was thinking about it” you mentioned, a smile on your face as he rolled his eyes at you.

“i present to you, our new child!” you cheered, presenting the succulent and shoving it into his face. Bucky furrowed his brows and processed the information, the small green plant staring him right in the face. “It was on sale at the grocery store and i thought why not give house plants another shot! It’s not like we’re out doing much nowadays” you smiled, patting the plant gently before setting it down once again and going to fix the other groceries.

“y/n last time you gave house plants a shot you killed all six of them” he sighed and you threw a roll of paper towels at him, of course he caught it and threw it back, effectively hitting you on the back of the head.

“things are different now, maybe i have a green thumb this year” you smiled, happily putting everything away and setting the plant by the window.

Bucky saw the joy in your eyes as you watched the small plant grow, you even texted the whole team about the new member of the barnes and y/l/l household. You had spent hours at a time researching the best ways to grow and care for succulents and yet, one week later bucky noticed the small plant (which you had dubbed ‘Brenda’) had began to wilt.

He stared at brenda, debatin on letting her just die and prove a point that gardening was not your strong suit, but then he thought about how crushed you would be, coming home and finding the dead succulent. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, watering the plant and going out the buy some things to help it get more nutrients.

Within days Brenda was healthier than ever, growing rapidly and a beautiful dark green color. You quickly noticed and teased Bucky for not believing in you.

“I told you! she is so beautiful look at her! they grow up so fast don’t they” you wiped a fake tear and Bucky laughed rolling his eyes and focusing back on the show the two of you were watching. “I think it’s time for the next step” you smiled, his eyes widened as you finished your sentence, “another plant!”

So weeks passed and within a couple months you had all kinds of house plants, every windowsill covered with green and even some hanging from the ceiling, vines wrapping around lamps and even flowers in the patio, you even got bold and bought an orchid (which was doing amazing you may add).

While you watered them regularly, Bucky had to go above and beyond to care for the absurd amount of plants you now had. He would water them individually (by now he knew how much water each plant needed and what days to water them) and even added fertilizer to their soil, buying all kinds of things to keep them healthy and to stop them from wilting. Your most recent purchase, olive the orchid, had been the toughest to care for yet. Bucky had to watch tons of videos on orchid care to stop it from dying within the fire few days.

It took him a while to go through his routine while you were at work, you never caught wind of his meddling and you continued to believe that you had the greenest thumb in the world, Bucky happily going along with it, he couldn’t bare to see your soul crushed if you realized they would’ve died had they been in your care.

You and Bucky were laying in bed watching a movie when he got a phone call from Sam, telling him they had a mission, Bucky was both suprised and nervous considering there had been almost nothing going on lately and he would have the leave all the plants alone with you.

“I can always tell Sam i can’t go you know that doll” Bucky protested as the night progressed, you sighed and curled more into his side, pulling the blanket into you more, “I’ll be fine James, and plus i have all of our plants to keep me company” you smiled brightly and he felt his heart swell.

He wanted nothing more then to tell Sam to shove it so he can stay home and care for all your plants to keep that adorable smile on your face, but of course he couldn’t.

“I’m gonna be gone two weeks are you sure you can handle it?” Bucky asked once again, one foot out the door before turning around again, “yes bucky i know where everything for the plants is, plus I’ve kept them looking good for this long, two weeks is nothing” you smirked, punching his shoulder as he smiled at you.

He chuckled softly and nodded his head, kissing your forehead and saying goodbye, he also said goodbye to all the plants, knowing they would be gone by the time he came back. He did however have a shred of hope that they would be able to hold on just until he got back, to nurse them back to health.

You closed the door and sighed, the house feeling empty without Bucky, but then you looked to your right and saw Brenda, you smiled and put on your favorite show, cuddling up on the couch and sighing. You could keep your plants alive for two weeks, you had done it for months on your own.

Sam put the quinjet in autopilot after setting the route and sat across from Bucky. “So why didn’t you wanna come, getting used to the domestic life?” He joked and Bucky rolled his eyes. “Cmon I’m joking losen up” he laughed, throwing a peanut at him and Bucky broke into a smile as he caught it in his mouth.

“y/n and i got a bunch of plants right” he began and Sam nodded, “yeah i know she sends up pictures like all the time,” Bucky laughed and continued, “but she sucks at keeping them alive, so I’ve been taking care of them when she isn’t home and keeping them alive” Bucky spoke, a smile on his face as he realized how ridiculous this was.

“she doesn’t know you’ve been taking care of them does she” Sam questioned and Bucky shook his head, he bit his lip to stop his smile as Sam broke into a fit of laughter. “Oh my god they’re all gonna die on her like last year aren’t they” he spoke between laughs and Bucky nodded, his heart hurting as he thought of your face when the plants began to wilt and you couldn’t stop them.

“i just feel bad because he cares about them so much, but she just is actually incapable of caring for them, i mean she killed a cactus! even after doing everything she was supposed to!” Bucky laughed, wanting nothing more than to go home and hold you, and kiss you on the cheek.

“I can’t believe she can do basically everything but care for plants” Sam spoke and Bucky sighed, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

As time passed your plants began to wilt, first was the orchid, a petal had fallen and it was now slumped over. Then was the ones hanging from the ceiling, the leaves all drooping and and even starting to dry up after the first week.

And then your succulents, you had been watering them way too much and essentially drowned them, and you accidentally killed your cacti by not em giving them enough water.

Of course with each plant death on your end, Bucky received the news through your daily calls. He felt so bad for you, comforting you every night and wishing he could kiss you and make you feel better. “Don’t worry doll I’ll be there in a couple days” he would say and you nodded, “maybe they just miss you” you giggled and he smiled, “maybe.”

By the time bucky got home, all the plants were basically dead, and you had thrown out half them before Bucky could even say goodbye.

“Sweets? I’m home!” Bucky smiled, setting everything down and closing the door, turning around to see you throwing out yet another plant before your face lit up and you jumped on him.

“i missed you so much james” you laughed as he picked you up, holding you tightly as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck.

“i missed you so much more doll” he whispered a smile on his face as you placed a kiss ontop of his head. He set you down gently on the couch and you immediately pulled him down with you, cuddling into his side and closing your eyes as you listened to his heartbeat.

“okay doll, please don’t get mad at me but i can’t hide this any longer” he spoke suddenly, getting up from the couch and moving infront of you. Your heart dropped and you felt dizzy, “what?” Your mind was racing, thinking of what the hell he could be hiding from you.

“okay it started off because i didn’t want to hurt you okay, i didn’t want to crush your spirit because you looked so happy and god i didn’t want to take that away from you, but then you went and got more and i couldn’t tell you then because i was in too deep and-“ you cut him off before he could continue.

“Barnes just spit it out!” You groaned, brows furrowed and a scowl on your face as he rambled.

“I took care of the plants!” He rushed out, letting out a sigh and putting his head in your lap. “I took care of Brenda when she started to wilt because i saw how happy you were taking care of her” he mumbled, looking up to see your confused expression.

“but my other plants i took care of those” you shook your head, and he scrunched his face up. “I took care of those too, i kept them all alive and cared for them so that you could think you were doing it, i wanted you to be happy as a plant mom, i knew how bad you felt last year” he spoke, looking up at you and searching you face for your reaction.

“that why they all died after you left, because you kept them alive” you whispered, finally putting the pieces together. Everything made so much more sense now, from you catching him moving the plants around and him buying fertilizer, you realized now it’s because while you were gone, he was taking care of the plants.

“You didn’t even tell me after i bought like 10 more” you smiled and he let out a breath after he realized you weren’t upset. “I just wanted to see you happy” he giggled and your heart fluttered, you ran your fingers through his hair and he closed his eyes.

“so you aren’t mad?” you laughed at the question, confusing him, and suddenly he was terrified because if you were mad at him he doesn’t know how he would make it up to you.

“how could i be mad at you baby, you spent hours on end taking care of plants that you didn’t care about just so i could be happy thinking i had a green thumb” you smiled, kissing his forehead and letting out a sigh, “if anything i should propose to you for caring for me that much.” Bucky smiled at you and gave you a quick kiss on the lips.

“i would marry you in a heartbeat doll face” he whispered, sitting back down next to you on the couch, “even if that meant taking care of an absurd amount of plants for me?” You teased and he rolled his eyes.

“as long as they aren’t orchids, that one was a pain in the ass” he laughed and you slapped his chest lightly, “i loved olive!” you argued and he shoved you softly, “you didn’t have to watch hours of videos to keep olive alive!” He shot back and you huffed, accepting defeat and setting your head on his chest as the tv played in the background.

After a couple moments of silence you smiled, realizing the trouble he must’ve gone through just so you could be happy over some plants. “I wasn’t joke when i said i would marry you y’know” you whispered, and Bucky blushed, kissing the top of your head.

“I know doll, and neither was i” he smiled as he saw your face flush, and suddenly all he could think of was the small velvet box he had hidden away in his t shirt drawer.

#bucky fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #soft!bucky

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interstellar-changkyun · 4 years

Text

A/N: i tried to be as gender neutral as possible PLEASE let me know if there is anything i can fix :)

changkyun as your boyfriend:

you first met through jooheon, your best friend since childhood, and maybe you had always had a crush on changkyun since debut but that didn’t matter

what mattered was that changkyun couldn’t breathe when he first met you, no literally you made him choke on noodles

despite that incident, changkyun was smooth, almost too smooth, the jealous part of your mind got hot just thinking about the other people he flirted with before you to get this good

when he asked you out he didn’t half ass it

you were running from the rain one night coming back from dinner, neither of you expected the rain and changkyun being the gentleman he is gave you his leather jacket to drape carry over you as you ran

it was getting worse though, the rain seemed to be coming from every direction

changkyun noticed you had shut your eyes on instinct so to be safe he pulled you to the side of a building, an alleyway which would have been daunting if not for the distraction of changkyun’s hand around your wrist

you held the jacket up to cover both of you both you were shorter than him so you were on your tiptoes, he snickered and grabbed it gently from you and held it over both of you to cover from the rain that was now only coming from one direction

under the cover of his jacket with his face inches from you only lit by the streetlights in the distance he whispered, “you’re so beautiful y/n, may I take you on an actual date?” you stopped breathing, your mouth dropping open and when you remembered you would have to breathe and then answer at some point you furiously shook your head yes

your first date was at an arcade, you both loved video games and you weren’t big on the mushy gushy romantics and he loved you for that

changkyun let you win in almost every game and you knew he was letting you

you liked to tease him though, knew how easily you could get a reaction out of him

“changkyun i don’t know how to shoot can you show me?” you pouted for extra effect and it worked because in seconds he was behind you, chest pressed against your back, hand trailing from your shoulder to your elbow (leaving a trail of goosebumps), guiding it to a 90 degree angle and placing a basketball gently in your palm, his hand now pressed against yours and motioning through the throw

after you made your third shot, letting him help you after each failed attempt, you turned around to hug changkyun his ears now red as he laughed into your ear

months later you would tell him how you had been on the basketball team all throughout middle and high school and you just wanted to tease him, he teased you right back in retaliation making you whine for hours

changkyun was not the outwardly affectionate or romantic type, but you were not either + due to the nature of his job you weren’t kissing in public anyways

instead he did little things that showed how much he cared

like if you’re eating together he makes sure to watch how much you’re eating and if you want more or less, he’s the youngest so he’s used to taking care of his elders but with you he’s especially attentive, getting you water without a word if you cough a little bit from the spices

or when you’re studying late into the night and he brings you warm milk and snacks

or when he makes you playlists and sends you songs that remind him of you

and when you’re feeling unwell he tries to cancel as many schedules as he can to take care of you

“changkyun you can’t kiss me you’ll get sick!”

“we suffer together, plus i can’t resist you”

he lets you steal all the clothes you want always telling you how you look better in them anyways but then you tell him you have to share because you can’t confess how you want them to smell like him again

he doesn’t mind because they smell like you when he gets them back

he has a hard time complimenting you or articulating his feelings but you know what he means by the way he looks at you

you’re dressing up for a night out with him and when you walk out to see him in a dress shirt with the first couple buttons undone and suit pants you have a hard time breathing and he can’t tear his eyes away from your body

“fuck i’m so fucking lucky what the fuck” you can’t help but laugh and kiss his dropped jaw until it closes

sometimes when he’s working late at the studio you’ll visit him with food and to support him

you love his music and his rapping so you always want to hear whatever he creates

most of the time it’s about you or inspired by you and you usually cry when you first hear it and he pulls you into his lap and kisses your face until you’re giggling

when he’s away promoting or on tour he facetimes you when he can, sending you selfies and videos regularly, and then he’s always buying you tickets to see him whenever possible

when he’s performing you try to be in the audience and he always winks at you when he sees you or gets closer to your area a little more than the rest of the venue

he knows you’re his biggest fan and he loves it, he finds it cute how you interact with the fans and are part of the monbebe family

“so i was your bias since day one right?” you scoff and push him away lightly when you’re with the members hanging out and jooheon gasps in betrayal, “sorry hyung you don’t pick your bias, your bias picks you” changkyun teased and was immediately hit with a pillow it quickly turned into a tickling match

changkyun doesn’t get jealous, you’re both pretty secure in your relationship and he knows you can handle yourself, but he is protective and cannot stand to see you in any kind of distress

you’re at a high end night club with the members

you’re dancing with minhyuk and jooheon, changkyun watching from afar

you’re having so much fun you don’t notice another pair of eyes on you and then jooheon and minhyuk say they’re going to get more drinks and you’re alone dancing by yourself out of the corner of your eye you see changkyun approaching but so is someone else

it’s a 6 foot tall muscular guy, definitely no match for your 5’3 admittedly non-muscular build you keep your calm, changkyun is wasting no time in pushing through the crowd towards you or what he thinks is where you are since the random man is covering his view

“can i buy you a drink?” he asks while you clearly continue to ignore him

“not interested” you say sternly and it should be enough, it usually is

“in drinking? what you into dehydration or something?” he’s pushy and it’s irritating but you decide to ignore him

a couple moments pass of you trying to to ignore him when he reaches for your arm, just as he grazes your arm changkyun is in front of you glaring at the guy, still behind him you move to see your hands holding changkyun’s left hand

“they said they’re not interested.” changkyun is shorter than him but that doesn’t mean anything when he’s just as muscular and well he’s changkyun from monsta x and this guy looks young probably has an ambitious future ahead of him so he backs off pretty easily apologizing to changkyun in a stutter

changkyun turns to you and kisses your forehead, none of the anger in his voice or the tension in his body there any more

and that’s how he was, he wouldn’t let you get hurt

sometimes you would argue about it

you argued rarely but when you did it ended with you both coming to a conclusion that you were just worried about each other and idiots in love

kissing changkyun made you feel like honey

he would take his time, teasing you, kissing your neck biting it even, he would worship you and then give you what you want

you liked his piercings and didn’t waste any time exploiting his sensitive ears and he loved it

he let you have control and you loved when he did, loved his deep moans his swearing and when he was trying to be obedient how tight his grip was on you

changkyun loved making you smile, moan, and laugh

he loved you when you woke up in the morning and when you fell asleep on his chest and when he caught you staring at him and when you loved him

#changkyun fluff #changkyun blurb #changkyun imagines #changkyun imagine #monsta x scenario #monsta x im #monsta x imagine #monsta x #monsta x fluff #im changkyun #lim changkyun #changkyun

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ticklishfiend · 3 years

Text

Angry Little Guy

My Hero Acadameia - Kirishima/Bakugou

A/N: heyyy haven’t written in a hot minute (again lmao)!! my mental health has been taking a tolls recently so writing has been hard, but i still hope y’all enjoy what i wrote today!! i love these boys sm and i hope to write some more for them in the future :) hope u enjoy!! xx

Summary: After Ms. Joke visits the school and forces Bakugou to laugh after he was being a grumpy-butt in class, Kirishima can’t help that he just wants to hear that cute little laugh again. But when Bakugou refuises to laugh any other way, Kirishima decides to use some...persuasive methods :))

Word Count - 2,550

—

Today was a physical training day for Class 1A, all the students gathering in the training gym in their matching blue and red outfits ready for whatever task Aizawa had prepared for them that day. Aizawa’s demeanor today, however, was just a little…off. Sure, he was being hs regular boring, monotonous self, but something about the way his eyes seemed to sink deeper into their sockets, and the way his back seemed somehow more slouched than usual, showed that the class’s teacher was a little more annoyed today than he already was regularly.

“Does Aizawa-Sensei seem more…upset than usual?” Kirishima scratched his neck worriedly, heck cocked as he watched Aizawa pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t know, man, the guy’s never exactly been the bubbly type. Maybe he just got less sleep than normal,” Denki shrugged, his eyes also meeting the groggy teacher stood in front of their whole class. “What do you think, Bakugou? Think Aizawa woke up on the wrong side of the bed or what?”

“Shut the fuck up, Sparkplug, he’s about to start class,” Bakugou grumbled, not even glancing down at his bright blonde counterpart for a second.

“Okay everyone, it’s time to shut up,” Aizawa spoke loudly, his eyes tense as he stared the teens in front of him down. The mumbles in the room went silent as Aizawa began his lesson. “Today’s gonna be a little…different. Despite my pleas against this, you’ll be taught your training by a different pro-hero today from Ketsubutu High.”

Muffled whispers slowly rose up from the crowd of teens before Aizawa, mumbling predictions of who the hell could be teaching them today and why it wasn’t someone already from their school. Of course, as always, Iida’s hand was the first to shoot up and question this strange decision.

“Aizawl-Sensei, why are we being taught by a teacher from another school? Why not use any of the many teachers we have available at UA?”

“Unfortunately, Nezu believes it would be best for you all to not only be trained by the same heroes, as you need to widen your options for training techniques, especially considering many of you need to learn better techniques of distraction. Which is exactly why they’ve brought in-“

“Helloooo~!” The gym doors behind the students’ burst open, a female figure standing in the doorway with her hands on his hips and a bright, wide smile imprinted on her face.

“Oh no way!” Sero pointed excitedly towards the woman. “It’s Ms. Joke!”

“That’s right, future pro-heroes!” Ms. Joke began making her way over toward Aizawa, his glare on her intensifying with every step she got closer.

“Ohhh, now I get why he’s been so moody all morning,” Kiri whispered to Denki, the two sharing a knowing glance as they both grinned.

“Joke, why are you so late? You were supposed to be here an hour ago so we could discuss-“

“Oh cmon, Eraser, don’t be so serious! Just got caught up in a little morning traffic is all, plus spreading a few smiles along the way!” Joke grinned widely at the stoic man beside her. “Y’know, I’m always happy to spread a few more smiles as long as they’re coming from your cute little face-“

“That’s enough, Joke. Please get on with the lesson,” Aizawa rolled his eyes, refusing to look over at his extremely smiley counterpart.

“Whatever you say, future husband!”

“Not your future husband-“

“Okay guys! So who here knows about my quirk and can explain it properly to the rest of the class?” Joke asked, followed by multiple hands shooting up into the air, Deku’s even waving about excitedly (as this IS his favorite thing in the world to discuss).

“Hmm…how about…you! Mr. Grumpy in the front!” Joke exclaimed, pointing towards Bakugou. His arms were crossed in contempt, eyes glaring into Joke’s happy persona like his gaze alone could burn right through it.

“I didn’t even raise my hand,” Bakugou scowled at his higher-up, his stance never wavering. “How do you know I have any idea who you are?”

Ms. Joke smirked at Katsuki. “Y’know, teachers talk, Bakugou,” the mention of his name made his eyes grow a little wide in surprise, not expecting her to know him by name. “Sure, I know you from the sports festival, but I also know you from a little more than that. I know that you’re an angry little guy who doesn’t like not being at the top, and you find satisfaction in knowing more than your peers. I also know you’re very smart, and you’re well educated on the status of most- if not all- pro-heroes today. So, I’ll ask again; can you please explain to the class what my quirk is and how it functions?”

A silent but stressed pause fell over the group of teens. None of them had expected Joke to get so analytical on Bakugou like that, and it made them all feel a little fearful of what the “angry little guy” had to say next to her next. Bakugou’s glare on the woman deepened, his brow furrowing slightly.

“You can make people laugh uncontrollably, basically making it easier for you to fight them with one-on-one combat. And if you want me to be honest,” Bakugou’s face contorted into an ugly smirk, his arms crossing tighter as his body leaned in ever so slightly towards the hero. “-it’s one of the lamest quirks I’ve ever seen from a pro-hero.”

The air in the room was suddenly 10x thicker than before, almost making it harder for the students to catch a healthy breath. Ms. Joke only smiled fondly at the teen before her, walking closer to him until they were face-to-face.

“Y’know Bakugou…ever since I saw you perform at the sports festival, seeing you so red-faced and angry the whole time, I couldn’t help but wonder…” Joke’s hands went to her hips as Bakugou’s smirk slowly began to fade. “…does that guy ever really laugh?”

Suddenly and without warning, Bakugou began belting out one of the screechiest laughs anyone in that gym had ever heard in their lives. His arms came down to his stomach, harshly crushing his abdomen as if this would cease the laughs at any capacity. After a second, one of his hands shot towards his mouth, after he must’ve finally realized how embarrassingly girly his laugh must’ve sounded.

“Oh my god, no way! Bakugou can laugh!” Denki shouted, pointing at the hysterical boy in front of him. The rest of the class erupted into giggles, unable to contain it after hearing that contagious laugh leave that angry little man.

“SHUHUHUT UHUP! THIS ISN’T FAHAHAHAIR!” Bakugou’s screams were muffled behind his hand, but it did nothing to mask the laughs coming out of the boy.

“So, is anyone who didn’t know about my quirk starting to get how it works?” Joke giggled, Bakugou now crumbling to the floor on his knees without even meaning to. After another moment, his laughs began to die down to soft titters, before standing back up on shaky legs. To his dismay, his face was flushed an adorable shade of pink, and though everyone noticed it, no one dared to make a comment. His eyes made their way to Joke’s, an angry flash of light glaring from them.

“YOU MADE YOUR POINT YET, HAG?!” Bakugou shouted, his hands in a combat position by his sides, making small explosions not big enough to hurt a fly from his palms.

“Yes, actually. I think we’re ready to move on to the lesson at hand!”

“Man, I still feel sore after training today. Who knew Ms. Joke could be so ruthless at hand to hand combat!” Kirishima exclaimed, massaging his shoulder before turning back to his homework in his lap. He was sat crisscross on Bakugou’s bed, with said explosive teen leaning against the wall behind him also working on his homework.

“Whatever, Shitty-hair, it wasn’t that bad,” Bakugou rolled his eyes, earning him a shove on the knee from the red haired teen beside him.

“You’re just mad she had you laughing like a little girl in front of the class and you KNOW it!” Kiri chuckled.

“Hell yeah I’m mad, I’m fucking pissed! That hag had no right to do that, it made me look like a fucking idiot!” Bakugou grumbled throwing his head back and hitting the wall with a thud.

“Oh cmon, it wasn’t that bad, it was adorable! You should totally laugh like that more often, Bakubro. I know I’d sure love to hear it,” Kiri giggled, looking up at Bakugou, noting the small tinge of crimson painting his cheeks. He decided to be nice and not say anything, just like he had been at training.

“I’m not adorable, fuckface, and after that whole stunt I don’t think I’ll ever laugh again.”

“Bakubro, you know I can’t have that! I’ve gotta get my dose of Kats giggles every once and awhile, even if I have to pull em outta ya!” Kiri snickered, playfully shoving Bakugou in the shoulder. “In fact, I wanna hear you laugh right now! Cmon, gimme them giggles!”

Bakugou just looked up at Kirishima with the most blank expression he could possibly pull. Kirishima pouted, grabbing his and the other boy’s homework and moving it to the other side of the bed.

“Shitty-hair, I was working on that-!”

“Ah ah ah, Bakubro, you can get right back to your work as soon as I hear that laugh of yours that I heard earlier today!” Kirishima moved to sit cross-legged in front of Bakugou, giving him the dopiest smile he could pull in hopes to get the boy to giggle even a little.

Nothing.

“Kiri, I can’t just laugh on command. You’ve gotta do something funny, and you’re not a funny fucking person,” Bakugou’s expression remained partially blank, but Kirishima could spot that hint of mischievousness behind his eyes that got him all worked up and playful.

“Hmm…well, while I might disagree with you on that, it’s really hard to make you laugh. And trust me, I know that from experience,” Kirishima brought his hand up to scratch at his chin, looking Bakugou in the eyes experimentally. Then, a lightbulb went off over Kiri’s head.

“Hey, Bakugou?”

“Um…yes?”

“Are you ticklish?” Bakugou remained unwavered, but Kirishima could tell that question made the blood boy uneasy.

“No. Can I get back to my work now, Shitty-hair?”

“I already told you, we aren’t working until I hear you laugh. And, I don’t believe you.”

“Well you should, because I’m not.”

“Then can I?” Bakugou furrowed his brows confusedly at the question.

“Can you what?” Bakugou asked, his head leaning back in confusion.

“Can I tickle you? Y’know, since you aren’t ticklish.”

“No, that’s a stupid question, why would you tickle someone who isn’t-“ suddenly, Bakugou’s words halted as Kirishima grabbed the boy by his shoulders and turned him to push his back onto the bed. He sat down on the boys waist, pinning his hands beneath his knees, effectively trapping them. “WHAT THE HELL, SHITTY-HAIR?!”

“What? You said you aren’t ticklish, so this-“ Kirishima pulled Bakugou’s shirt up just above his lower ribs, before lightly and slowly tracing shapes into the boys sides. “-shouldn’t bother you at all.”

Bakugou’s entire body was as stiff as a board, his eyes shut tight and his mouth shut even tighter. His teeth grinder against one another and titter after titter left his lips against his mind’s wishes.

“Kiri- I- Stop- hehe-wait, just hold on a minutehehe-“ Bakugou giggled lightly, his hands struggling beneath Kiri’s knees. Then, Kirishima began digging his fingers into his ribs, and that’s when all hell broke loose for the explosive boy beneath him.

“WAHRHEIT! STOHOHOHOP! NOT FAIR! NOT FAHAHAHAIR!” Bakugou twisted and turned his body, but to absolutely no avail. Kirishima was massaging circles into Bakugou’s lower ribs, and the hysterical boy under him just couldn’t take it. “See? Now THIS is what I wanted to hear, Bakubro!” Kirishima moved his right hand down to skitter his nails on the boy's lower belly, resulting in high pitched squealy giggles to leave the Bakugou's lips. "Aw, you're so ticklish! I never expected this from you, it's so cute!" Kirishima cooed, only making Bakugou's laughs to grow more frantic and panicked.

"NOHOHO! NOHOHOT CUHUHUTE! NOT CUHUHUHU- AHAHAHA!" The boy's words trailed off into even more giggles as Kirishima brought his left hand down to sueeze at his hips. "NOHOHOT THEHERE! PLEASE! I CAHAHAHANT!"

"Aww, is this a bad spot, Bakugou?~ Is it really ticklish right there?~" Kirishima teased, now moving both hands down to sueeze and spider over his hips, which proved to be one of his worst spots so far.

"YEHEHES! TIHIHICKLES!" Bakugou screamed, his legs kicking out frantically behind Kiri as the red-head experimentally moved his fingers upwards and dipped into his bellybutton.

Bakugou let out the most high pitched scream Kirishima had ever heard.

"Oh my god, dude! Is it that bad here?" Kirishima used one nail to scratch at the inside walls of the navel, while another finger skittered around the entire button.

"BAHAHAHAD! SO BAHAHAD! PLEHEHEASE!" Bakugou whined, small prickles of tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"Alright, alright, i'll quit. But-" Kirishima halted momentarily, his nails resting on Bakugou's lower tummy without moving. Even with the lack of movement, Bakugou couldn't help the small giggles that left his lips, his childish giggle box already turned on it's head, making those unmoving nails feel like their skittering all over his tummy. "-first you have to admit that your laugh is adorable."

Bakugou's eyes widened. "What?! Are you crazy?! I'm not gonna say something like th-hehehe!" Kirishima slowly began skittering over his lower tummy again, his fingers slowly but surely getting closer and closer towards his navel.

"Bakugou, you are way too ticklish to just not comply with me right now. Just say what I want and I'll let you go," Kirishima smiled, bringing one hand up to skitter at his lower ribs, resulting in a surprise shriek and louder giggles from the boy. "Unless...you don't want me to stop?"

Bakugou's entire face turned beet red, and this time Kirishima just couldn't help himself. "Aw, Bakugou~! Y'know, you're way more of a blusher than you'd like to admit, but that's just another thing that makes you intesnely adorable. So say it! Say you're adorbale!"

"Nohoho! I cahaha- Kiri plehehease! Don't make mehehe!" Bakugou whined, twisting his body as if trying to escape the unstoppable fingers on his torso.

"Cmon Kats~ Just say those two magic little words~"

"Alrihihight!" Bakugou shut his eyes tight, turning his face as much as he could to try and smush his words into the mattress. "I'm...I'm adorablehehe..."

Kirishima finally halted his fingers and moved them off the boy's body, but still not getting up off of his waist. "See? Was it that hard?"

"Yes!" Bakugou whined, finally pulling his hands out from under Kirishima's legs after the red-head gave him some leverage to, shoving them into his face to mask the ever-growing blush and smile emerging.

"You're too cute for me, Kats. I don't think I can handle it," Kirishima smiled fondly at the boy underneath him, his heart swelling in his chest unbeknownst to that angry little giggly guy.

A/N: i hope u enjoyed!! i just love lee!bakugou so i rlly couldn’t help myself LMAOO he’s so cute wtf :(( anyways, if u enjoyed this pls consider liking and reblogging!! reblogging is much more appreciated as it helps spread my fic to more ppl :)) love u!! xx

#tickling #my fic #tickle community #mha #tickle fic #bnha #kiribaku #my hero academia #tickles #lee!bakugou #boku no hero academia #ticklish!bakugou #eijiro kirishima #katsuki bakugou #ms joke

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kiribakuhappiness · 3 years

Note

Hiiiii if you have time could I please request a HC on how bakugou studies and works out? I was down for a few days so I wanted to read about bakugou but there aren't any really. I don't wanna force this on you byyy love you❤️❤️😀

Heyyy, I am super late to seeing this (I’m literally going through hundreds and hundreds of asks right now scouring for prompts and trying to do a little spring cleaning) and I came across this and it makes me so happy to talk about Blasty McGonnaHaveAStroke that I just really wanted to answer it - I hope that’s okay!

My perception of Bakugou Katsuki is ever changing because he’s developing so quickly in so many different areas of his personality (honestly, such a well written character, I’m really enjoying watching him morph and grow over the past few seasons) and I feel like I grow to know him more and more with each fic / drabble I write where I can really delve into his mannerisms and way of being and so I have a lot of ideas for these little nuances in particular!

Studying:

We all know that Bakugou is high key suffering from Former Gifted-Child Syndrome (or whatever the popular term for it is on this site). He’s naturally talented and intelligent - but he’s also incredibly hard working, especially once he’s come to the realization that he’s become a Former Gifted-Child.

There’s a quote I saw circulating a while ago from Bakugou, something about “I came to this school not to find out what I can do, but to find out what I can’t do.” or something similar to that sentiment. Because Bakugou is already perceptive and smart, he recognizes all of the things he can do and all of the things he’s good at, what he needs to learn is how to better handle the things that he’s not good at and how he can work on himself to barrel forward on his path to become the best.

So I think that even though Bakugou is already smart and doesn’t have any trouble keeping one of the top spots in his entire class, I feel like he would also spend a good portion of his free time studying and doing homework. It’s one thing to be intelligent, but to keep such a high position like the 3rd spot or whatever he is, that means that he’s completing and handing in assignments regularly, receiving top marks in most likely all of his classes, and that requires a certain level of dedication.

But again, he’s also already highly intelligent. So he probably gets bored really easily. (I know I’ve mentioned it before but it’s kind of one of my favorite ‘little obscure details’ to note that there are several panels where Bakugou is depicted as not fully paying attention during lessons - gazing out the window or playing with his pencil and even closing his eyes and completely tuning Present Mic out with the internal monologue that English was super boring or something like that).

This is all a long-winded way to back up the fact that I feel like his notes would be quick and sloppy and probably wouldn’t have a lot of context clues so someone like Kirishima just reading over his notes probably wouldn’t understand half of the concepts just because they’re things Bakugou already knows so he didn’t deem them important enough to write down.

Someone else posted a bunch of screenshots of Bakugou Katsuki’s actual notebook or something (fuck, I wish I could find the original post but it’s lost in time and space at this point), and his handwriting isn’t messy per-say but I definitely imagine that they were just lazy, bored strokes maybe pressed down with a little more force than is actually needed, and if he wants to highlight something important to remember later, he probably does that thing where he circles it multiple times or boldly underlines and things like that instead of actually using any highlighters or colored tabs like Midoriya probably uses!

Working Out:

You know, I feel like not a lot of attention gets brought to how Bakugou would work out! Like, in all the fics where they mention him working out or whatever, he’s usually just sparring with someone or they mention that he’s pumping iron (lifting weights), but that’s about as in depth as it goes.

I spend too much of my time at the gym and personally I believe that Bakugou is that one dude that I would constantly pick on for “always skipping leg day” - in the fact that he probably focuses very heavily on core work outs and arms/shoulders, since those are the muscles that are most directly impacted by his quirk!

He probably does a ton of crunches, pull-ups, free weights, push-ups; anything that works his triceps, biceps, abs, core balance, etc. He also probably runs /A LOT/ because he isn’t too bulky, he’s actually got a very slender build considering the muscle mass he carries in his upper half, which means that he’s running cardio on the DAILY. If I were a gambling woman, I’d put money on the treadmill, the stepper, and a jump rope being his most important pieces of equipment for cardio training.

We also have to take into account his dietary habits. Like I said before, this boy is incredibly slender for someone with such broad shoulders and who carries a lot of his muscle mass in his shoulders/back, and it’s commonly accepted at this point that Bakugou is a good chef (judging by the way his parents made him take music lessons growing up, I can assume that it was probably their idea as well for him to learn how to cook - whether that be through cooking classes or home-taught, it doesn’t really matter).

Mitsuki and Masaru are also canonly involved in the fashion industry - and we all know how, ahm... flawed the views in the fashion industry can be depending on location, culture, and societal beauty standards.

Katsuki probably has an immaculate diet. Protein, carbs, fresh fruit, calcium; he probably has a perfectly balanced palate and I can only ever dream cause ya girl just has sushi and LUNCHABLES as my only meal of the day today so, yaknow...

ANYWAYS.

All of that into consideration, I headcanon that Bakugou probably has a rotating shift for his work outs; cardio every day for ~30 minutes (most likely a warm up with the jump ropes or a jog/sprint alternating between low intensity and high intensity settings on the treadmill or stair stepper), then he probably has a circuit. So say for arms, he’d probably use free weights (curls, pumps, etc), then pull-ups/push-ups, I could see him throwing in some shoulder stretches and a very light yoga routine to help keep himself flexible and adaptive.

I totally see him as a man to get hooked on focusing solely on arms/shoulders because it’s very easy to see improvement and quick results, plus the after swell of muscles when you’ve done a proper workout is like the world’s most authentic confidence boost you can ever experience, and I could picture Bakugou being addicted to a feeling like that.

However, as previously mentioned, he’s incredibly intelligent and perceptive, and he’s just kind of a no-bullshit, no-excuses kind of guy? He might WANT to just do arms/shoulders for the rest of eternity, but he knows that won’t make him GREAT, so he forces himself to cycle. Arms/shoulders, Core, Legs, Exclusive Yoga, repeat - all with cardio warm-ups and cool-downs.

I’d gander that on top of his school work and course studies, he’d have to keep his gym time somewhere between 2-3 hours daily, but he probably only realistically hits the gym about 2-3 times a week at most, since all of their other training exercises and other hero activities no doubt work his entire body, and with such a strenuous, active lifestyle, there wouldn’t be much need for him to go any more than that unless he really wanted to aggressively bulk up or something crazy, but with his body type he’ll most likely fill out naturally as well (another thing that’ll come all on its own that he won’t even have to work for; lucky fucking bastard).

Okay, I’ll shut up now about it :D Hope that was somewhat entertaining to read? Are headcanons fun to read about? They must be if people are asking but I always get so nervous like, dude literally nobody cares that you psychoanalyzed Bakugou Katsuki to the point where you’ve probably got his entire work week mapped out, and you know what?

You right - lmfao!

#ahxbabxha #wow this is much longer than I expected it to be #and it's so so late ahaha #this ask is so old #but uuuh #anyway #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki headcanons #bnha #my hero academia #asks

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mrwinterr · 4 years

Text

Happy

Pairing: Rockstar!Bucky Barnes AU x Female Reader

Summary: You meet your favorite artist and get more than what you bargained for.

Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual and protected sex, oral [male and female receiving], vaginal fingering, belly bulge, light degradation) dirty talk/language and recording. Mentions of drugs and alcohol and a tiny bit of angst.

Disclaimer: I don’t smoke regularly, so anything that has to do with drugs mentioned are techniques I’ve outweighed based on what I’ve been taught by different people. I don’t know which method works best nor am I encouraging the activity. It just came with this fic’s territory. It’s not that deep. You do you, boo.

Title Inspiration: “Happy” by The Maine

A/N: I might or might not have based some of this on true events. All I can say is, life is short, shoot your shot! Enjoy!

A/N #2: There’s a Part 2 now!

“You owe me.” Your friend next to you said for probably the third time this hour. You learned earlier in the day to tune her out. She had been saying that since you persuaded her to accompany you on the weekend long road trip to the neighboring state just so you could see your favorite band…again.

Growing up your parents thought this was just another phase, but as your teenaged years passed on by and you’re now well into adulthood, you’re still a bigger stan for The Avengers as ever.

The Avengers consisted of three members: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Everyone had their take on each of the guys, Steve was the nice one, Sam was the goofy one and Bucky was the bad one. It was silly. They weren’t *NSYNC or The Backstreet Boys, but the fangirls will be fangirls.

Their music wasn’t exactly mainstream, but they did very well within in their genre’s scene. They graced the covers of a couple of magazines, garnered thousands, close to millions, of views and streams online, were featured on TV every now and then, toured around the globe, sold a bunch of records, even independently, but despite all that notoriety, they stayed true to their sound and that’s what kept you around as a fan.

That and the band’s front man Bucky Barnes.

He was hot – plain and simple. Ok, maybe he was just that to most, including your friend who couldn’t deny it, but you didn’t want to objectify the man. What their music had done to get you through the years, they were more than that. There was a level of respect there. You also didn’t buy into the “bad boy” gimmick the fans have dubbed for him. They were human beings just like the rest of us. Imagine being called something like that by the public? They just so happened to be fortunate enough to share their talent to the rest of the world.

“You’ve already seen them. I don’t know why you think you need to for what a tenth time?” She clearly wasn’t amused by your infatuation with the band, but she was still your friend and she would always be by your side through thick and thin even if she didn’t have the same taste in music as you. You loved her for that. Who else would stand for hours in a dark room full of loud, sweaty, smelly, rude even, and sometimes drunk people with no self-control for you? She really was the real MVP.

And she was right though. You’ve already seen The Avengers perform. It was probably more, but you’ve lost count. Whenever they’re in your city or two to four hours in the next one over, you loved this band alright!

You both were polar opposites standing next to each other in line waiting for the venue doors to open. She was calm and still, arms crossed with an unamused look on her face – she could almost play as the “mom that tagged along and didn’t want to be there” – but you knew she wasn’t really mad. There was a bar inside she could occupy herself at. You on the other hand were trying to contain your excitement. You tried your best to not fidget around in anticipation so much. You didn’t want to sweat off your makeup that you managed to apply on point or get an embarrassing stain on your clothes.

“It doesn’t matter,” was always the response you gave her, “their music means everything to me. I’ll always come out to support them.”

She playfully rolled her eyes and scoffed a bit at that. She wasn’t trying to knock you down. She knew you deeply liked the band, but she also knew another side of you, and she liked to pick at it. “Yeah that and you’re into Bucky,” she said and just flat out poked at the side of your breasts. The bra that you chose to purposely wear tonight gave your boobs an extra push and it didn’t go unnoticed by her. They were out there, tastefully, since you were hardly the flashy type.

“Okay, but who isn’t?” You flare back swatting her hand away and trying to shut her down. You didn’t need to have this conversation with her while other fans were around. You didn’t want to sound like a fangirl. You weren’t 13 anymore.

“Chill.” She said raising her hands up in surrender. She wasn’t going to fight you on this one again.

When the top of the hour hit, the roar of the crowd signaled the doors had opened. Once inside, you hit the line to the bathroom considering you’d been outside for a few hours. You didn’t just have to pee, but you needed to freshen up. Your cheeks were a bit flushed from standing in the heat. You dabbed lightly at your face with a small blotting sheet, sprayed a bit of body spray and finished putting every hair back into place before finding your friend, who was already at the bar.

You sported a 21 and up paper wristband that was handed at the entrance, however you weren’t planning on drinking. Usually you had one or two drinks at most, but you were assuming you would be the designated driver tonight. You just always flashed your ID to the bouncer for the wristband to emphasize that you were of age. Unfortunately, some bands have had a bad reputation of fooling around with underaged girls, who lied about it.

She held up her drink to you with a smile on her face. Yeah, you were going to be the one driving back to the hotel, but at least she’s happy. She tried to coax you into ordering a drink of your own, but you only shook your head at her nonsense and stood away from the crowd.

As an avid concert goer, you’ve been to enough shows that you’d been in every section of the crowd. Hell, you’ve even gone crowd surfing before! Plus, you couldn’t hang with those vicious and hormonal fans in the crowd anymore, so you learned to enjoy the show from the back with a full view.

The opening bands were decent. You’d never heard of them, one was probably local, but you always believed live music was just as good, if not, better than opposed to being recorded and remastered at a studio.

During their sets, you caved and bought a drink from the bar, hoping it’d help to pass the time before the headliners came on. Your friend was seemingly on her phone when a random guy approached you asking if he could buy you a drink. The house lights were on. Did he not see the can of beer in your hands? You politely declined his offer and further advances until he gave up and walked away.

“Girl. He was cute!” Your friend said shoving you lightly.

“I wasn’t interested,” you shrug and taking a swig of your drink.

“You’re not being fair,” she started and seeing that you weren’t catching on continued, “you can’t wait around hoping that one day Bucky will notice you. Honey, he came here to play a show and make money not look for a girlfriend.” Okay, maybe that was a bit harsh, bursting your bubble like that and all, but her intentions were good. Bucky Barnes just set the standards too high.

She wasn’t wrong. Guys like Bucky meet new people every day, met girls probably way prettier than you. The majority of their fans were female because let’s face it, the guys had sex appeal and you know what they say…sex sells.

Looking around the venue, you took in the kinds of girls you were going up against. There was a mixture of women of different backgrounds and sizes decked out in different styles, but the ones who won most of the time were the ones that looked good dressed in risqué clothing and heels. Some of them probably even wore less make-up than you or none at all. You couldn’t understand how it was effortless for some people.

It wasn’t that you had low self-esteem. You had your fair share of internal struggle, so sometimes your insecurity played its part. You had your good days and you had your bad days.

You decided upon wearing something simple that you would be comfortable in while still serving a look. And the only other significant thing you did to your make-up was add in a little more shimmer. Yeah you wanted to impress, not sell your soul to the devil.

“Okay, but I just really wasn’t interested,” you said again hoping she’d understand. She did, aware you wrestled with that demon in your head always taunting and ridiculing you that you could look better when you’re perfect just the way you are. With an added bonus of telling you that Bucky was missing out if he hasn’t noticed you already, she ordered another drink in time before the lights dimmed and ear-piercing screams erupted to alert that The Avengers finally took the stage to headline the show.

Like each of the shows you’d previously attended, they were amazing. They poured their hearts out with each beat and belt. Every lyric resonated with you so deeply. There was just so much raw emotion packed into their performance. The beauty of concerts was that they were designed to let you forget about all the bullshit happening in the world for a few hours. They were therapeutic for you.

If you hadn’t known any better, you’d say your friend secretly liked The Avengers’ music because she broke you out of your shell and had you swaying along with her to their songs…that or it was the alcohol taking over her. You didn’t fight it and you allowed yourself to let loose.

You tried to give each member equal attention, watching them as they played, but you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on Bucky the most. They were just trained on him. His cheeky smile and onstage presence were electric. The mere sight of him, all sweaty as his clothes stuck to his skin accentuating his toned body so well, all but had you shuffling trying to ease your body’s frustration and mind.

The only time you looked away was when you swore you thought he looked at you. Making eye contact with someone on stage was kind of awkward sometimes, but with him it was almost intimidating. Believing he was probably staring at the girl behind you, you downed the rest of your drink, pushed that thought away and tried to enjoy the rest of the show.

A full set of songs that showcased their albums and a two-song encore later, you were driving yourself and your buzzed friend back to your hotel room. It wasn’t that far from the venue, electing to stay within its vicinity. Upon entering the room, you tossed the shirt you bought at the merch booth on your bed before removing your leather jacket while she face-planted down on her bed, arms wide open, letting out an exaggerated sigh of relief. You couldn’t blame her. It felt great to rest right after standing on your feet for hours.

Your back rested against the headboard, you knocked your boots and socks off a while ago and had your bare feet up on your bed. You hadn’t changed out of the rest of your clothes or even wiped off your make-up yet. Instead, you sat there skimming through the timelines of your social media accounts while you waited for your friend to get out of the shower.

You had posted a few photos and videos of the night to your story, like your outfit, a few of you and your friend sightseeing, and of The Avengers’ set. You refreshed your timeline and noticed Bucky’s account pop up before everyone else that you followed. It’s no surprise that you were following them on social media. You liked seeing them share the personal moments of their lives. They used to be interactive with their fans. Bucky had even once commented on the old photo you had with the band years ago.

You met them after a show when they were just starting out with their first full-length album debuting that summer. Now, they hardly came out because all it took was one crazed fan to ruin it for everyone else. Their popularity sometimes deemed it unsafe for venues to let them stick around so late, restricting them from meeting their fans.

You click on Bucky’s account and go through his story. There was one of a view of the open road from their tour bus, a clip of a song he liked, a cryptic quote with a deep underlying meaning to it, him getting ready to go on stage and then of the show.

He had taken a photo of the crowd towards the end of the set, asked fans to tag themselves if they could, because the crowd was amazing…as if they didn’t say that in every town they played in.

His caption read: “Awesome crowd tonight! Probably our best show yet!” topped with how much he loved the city. Sometimes you wanted to reply to his posts like he was one of your friends, but then you second guessed yourself knowing he’d never see the message, or he would and just ignore it because he was busy. You knew it was a long shot, but what did you have to lose and what is it that they said these days? Shoot your shot.

You didn’t linger on the body of the message for too long, settling with a “Great show tonight! You guys were amazing as always! :)” hitting send and closing out the app thinking it would conceal any embarrassment that might come out of it. It was a ridiculous thought.

After surfing through the channels of the TV and picking at the food you had delivered to your room, your phone pinged. You saw that it was a notification from your social media account, but once your face unlocked the phone and the subject appeared, you nearly choked on the drink you were sipping on.

Bucky Barnes sent you a message.

Your heart pathetically started beating really fast. The phone almost slipped from your hands as you opened up the toxic app again to read what he said. He probably just sent you an emoji or something.

“Thanks for coming out.”

That was it. Okay, what did you except? A proposal. That was a fair response. He probably had some downtime and was able to reply to people. You couldn’t be that special…but thinking you could strike gold again, you started typing up a response.

“Of course! Will always be out there to support you guys! Hope the city treats you well and have a safe rest of the tour.” Yeah, that was a good one. You say to yourself thinking that would be the end of it…except it wasn’t.

“Appreciate it. You know of any good spots around here?”

Nope. You did not. Do you look up some recommendations for him? No, that’s too much. Great, you’re having a conversation with him through DMs and you can’t even genuinely contribute enough to hold it down.

“No, not really. I’m not from here actually. My friend and I drove here just to catch the show. Maybe YELP?” Shit. You just might’ve effectively got rid of him with turning him to the Internet instead.

“No way! That’s love. Good thinking.” They came through in separate text bubbles.

Why were guys so short? You couldn’t work with that. You thought about it for a while but came up with nothing, so you sent the sassy ‘girl sticking her hand out’ emoji as a reply. Damn, you were really bad at this.

Several minutes passed by and thinking you were really done with him; you got another message. It was Bucky again and he sent you a photo. It was from your own feed; the group photo of you and his band mates all those years ago.

“I thought I recognized you.” You sat up straight as you read that message over and over, eyes bugging. Thankful your friend was taking her sweet time in the bathroom, so she wouldn’t see you all strung up.

What? There’s no way. That was a long time ago. Your thoughts spiraled at his words that had you blushing. He’s pulling your chain.

“Impossible. That was forever ago!” I guess two could play this game then.

“I swear. You tripped and fell into my arms that night.”

What the hell? He actually remembered that? Yeah, that did indeed happen. You had been waiting outside surrounded by a bunch of other chatty girls, pushing and shoving their way to get to Bucky first. By the time he turned to you and you stepped forward, you lost your footing and fell straight onto him. He played it cool, but then you heard Sam, who was trapped in his own circle of girls, signing and taking pictures away, that Bucky has girls falling for him all the time.

“OMG. That was so embarrassing, and I was so awkward!” You couldn’t even speak to him when you managed to hold your own ground. You were young then, you thought you effectively put that behind you.

“You weren’t awkward! You were cute and that’s what has stuck with me since. One of the most memorable moments.”

Yup, he was definitely pulling your chain. While you were ecstatic that you were interacting with your favorite artist, you couldn’t help but wonder why you. He was a public figure and you were just a fan.

“Is this weird?” Came through as his next message after your silence.

Oh, no. I hope I didn’t offend him. You might as well tell it like it is and get it off your chest.

“I don’t know...just a bit. Probably because I’m just a fan? I feel like you should be careful. I mean I should be too…” You really did wonder though. How was it that people of his status were willing and freely open to people they barely knew only to get threatened of being leaked and blackmailed by their own nudes or messages? What made them trust the other party so easily with that kind of stuff? They couldn’t be that dumb. Well, you got your answer.

“I don’t think of you or anyone as just a fan, but you are right…at the same time I feel that you’re grounded enough and a good person that we can trust each other. If that makes sense.”

You weren’t sure if it did. He still didn’t really know you.

“Awe, well that’s really flattering. I totally understand that because that’s how I feel.” Did you? There was a pause between that message and the next that would come.

“What’s your cell?”

Really? It was just that easy? Oh, okay then. Nonetheless, you still gave him your number. The DMs stopped and transferred over to text messages. You have Bucky Barnes’ phone number. What fan fic were you living in? Shit like this doesn’t just happen, does it?

The texts between you and Bucky went back and forth, some playful and some slightly suggestive, but you were completely oblivious to them thinking that was just in his nature. You found out the band was staying in for the night before heading back out on the road tomorrow afternoon off to the next city. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath when you stared at his most recent text asking if you wanted to hang out. It was kind of late, but you didn’t get a guy like Bucky Barnes asking you to hang out on the regular.

“Are you alright?” Your friend questioned breaking your train of thoughts. You could see her from your peripheral that she was towel drying the ends of her hair even though you’re still staring at your phone.

“Bucky sent me a DM inviting me to his hotel room.” You answered in a stoic demeanor, but it felt really strange coming out of your mouth.

“Okay. How long was I in the shower?” Your friend asked with her hands on her hips wanting an explanation.

You recount the details and show her the messages you and Bucky had been sending to each other. She scrolled through each of them and you could see the look of apprehension forming on her face.

“I don’t know,” she said her words trailing before giving you a worried look, “shouldn’t you be the slightest bit concerned?”

“About?” You ask taking your phone back from her.

“All of this!” She exclaimed her arms outstretched in exasperation and not understanding why you were so blinded by Bucky. “You briefly met the guy, years ago might I add, and you decide it’s okay to meet him at his hotel room in a city you don’t even live in?”

Alright, it did raise a couple of red flags, but you were a consenting adult and you lived a life of being cautious and in fear a little too much you wanted to be reckless for at least one night.

“I know you’re only looking after me, but I got to go for it. You know I like him! Sure, I may not know him on a personal level, but I’m allowed to have some fun, right?” You try reasoning with her. Just how different was all this compared to what people around the world were already doing with each other anyways?

She was a bit skeptic before reluctantly agreeing and letting you go but with the promise from you to be careful, share your location and his room number with her just in case she needed to save you or come after him. You thanked her for understanding and assured her that you’d be back before check-out in the morning.

On the drive to his hotel room, you thought about how you always imagined the different scenarios of what it’d be like when you’d ever meet Bucky again. What things you’d do differently or say. How you’d make sure to not trip or do something to embarrass yourself the next time. How you’d be more confident.

Parking was a pain in any city’s downtown, you ended up having to pay for parking twice in one night. Not surprising to you, they stayed in a nice hotel. It wasn’t over-the-top nor was it fancy, but it was definitely clean and a slight step up than of what was in your budget for booking a room.

When you’re finally at his door, you wonder if you were going to be catfished. Were there other people in his room? Were you really that special? Fuck it. Was the final thought, putting an end to the rest, and knocked at his door.

You hear a click and sliding of the chain door unlock, then you’re face-to-face with Bucky. He’s dressed down in sweats and a zip-up hoodie. He shoots you a smile and steps aside for you to come inside, there wasn’t much light offered to illuminate the room other than the ones the lamps attached on the wall between the beds and what little the TV could provide.

“Oh, thank God. You’re real.” Motherfucker. Did you really just say that?

Bucky laughed at that and you explained, honest with him, that this whole thing just felt surreal. He nodded in agreement, offering to take your jacket from you and a drink. It was alcoholic. Not denying him, you accepted it and waited to see what he would do next.

You watch him sit down on the king-sized bed with his feet up, one foot over the other. You’re standing there next to the dresser that also served as a stand for the TV he was watching a random show on. Not sure what to do, you set the drink aside, kick off your boots, leaving them next to the luggage rack, and sit on the spot next to him with a considerable amount of distance between your bodies.

It’s quiet and you’re trying to hush the voices in your head. Did he really invite you to just watch TV with him? Is this awkward for him? Oh, no. He’s going to realize I’m boring.

You feel the bed shift and you see Bucky is leaning over, opposite of you, to grab something from the nightstand. You don’t see much of what he’s doing as your view was blocked by his large back. When he changes positions, a brief spark of a flame emits from his hands. Your eyes trail up from his hands to his lips and notice it was a blunt. You were pretty sure this was a non-smoking room, but it wasn’t under your name, so it didn’t really matter in the end.

Of course, he did that kind of stuff. It was part of the lifestyle to be exposed to it. He took a steady hit and you watched as he exhaled slowly, a cloud of smoke disappearing into the air in front of him.

“Want a hit?” He asked passing and offering you the blunt.

It’d been a while since you last smoked anything. You tried it a few times and even then, you didn’t think you did it right. You stare at the neatly rolled blunt in between his thumb and forefinger, but not too long as to not let it go to waste and ash up all over the bed.

You steadily take it from him and carefully attempt to take a puff. Wrong. That puff was anything but steady. Not realizing how close you were actually sitting next to Bucky, when you tried to exhale you ended up coughing – terribly. Bucky’s face scrunches up as he braces for the impact of white smoke to hit his face.

“Oh my God,” you say covering your mouth in disbelief, but it was a bad idea because your body didn’t like that, and you ended up coughing even harder.

“I’m so sorry,” you manage to get out in between your coughing fit while passing him back the blunt and trying your best to waft at the smoke. Well, if you thought your first encounter with Bucky was embarrassing. This had to take the cake. It wasn’t proper etiquette to blow smoke in the other person’s face.

He waves it off letting you know that it wasn’t a big deal before taking another hit. He even begins to give you a few pointers to inhale in increments, until you get used to the smoke. You don’t even notice the long looks Bucky gives you hit after hit. You take a second to let the smoke stay in your mouth before you give it a second inhale, letting it process through your system before gently exhaling. It was a lot of fucking steps to remember.

“Don’t try to put too much emphasis into the exhalation,” he said as he watches you take another hit, almost perfecting it and with each puff and pass being deeper and longer than the previous, “see, you’re getting the hang of it!” He whimsically lifts his hand up for a high-five that you softly pat in return, but he seizes that moment to hold your hand instead, intertwining his fingers with yours.

The more you breathed in the more your body started to relax. All the edge was taken off and you felt good. You and Bucky continued to pass the blunt, smoking whatever was left of it and what he had with him, as you told random bits of information about yourselves to one another. By now, you and Bucky were leaning on each other, backs against the headboard, the TV barely audible as it continued to play a rerun of whatever that was on earlier.

“You know I really do remember you?” He says causing you to turn your head to look down at him. He has his gaze fixed on your hands, his thumb barely grazing the back of your hand. He’d been playing with your hand, drawing random shapes on it.

“That’s hard for me to believe,” you answer back truthfully.

“Why?” Bucky questions while looking up at you. He was in a slouched position, his hoodie and shirt rising up, allowing you a thin glimpse of his skin, while you sat a little higher up than him.

You admired his handsome face, the crease lines in his forehead, the faint and not so faint marks scattered all around it, his wet lips that shone when he ran his tongue over them and the stubble that surrounded it all down to his adorable nose. Then there were those blue eyes that once put you in an overawe of intimidation, were now a bit alarming in a new sense. They were swirling and growing darker.

“You meet new people every day, Bucky. There’s no way that I could’ve been that unforgettable to you.” You just couldn’t wrap your mind around that. Staring at him, you tried to read him, but you were too faded to concentrate.

“But you were,” he tells you in a low voice just before you notice his eyes shut and he leans in to place an experimenting kiss to your lips. He pulls back to quietly study your expression, and when you don’t show any sign of disapproval, he goes in for another.

This time with added pressure, more emotion, Bucky pulls you down by the back of your neck and casually slips his tongue in your mouth the moment your lips parted. Your heart started racing when you reciprocated his kiss, trying to keep up with him. He definitely liked to dominate. You could even slightly taste the blunt you both shared moments ago as his tongue tangled with yours.

He slips off his hoodie leaving him in a dark gray shirt. Navigating his body over yours, he pulls you down into a more comfortable position. He’s cradling the side of your face as your lips continue to move one another, getting hungrier and hungrier.

The movements cause your top to ride up, exposing your midriff. His hands wander down to caress your skin before you feel his fingers grip at the waistline of your jeans. You instantly grab his hand and stop him. This was moving all too fast for you.

Bucky didn’t press on it for too long and slipped his fingers out, running his hand back up your side and this time underneath what your tank top was covering left of your upper body. His hand snuck back out and started tugging at the material bunched underneath your breasts. When your top was finally discarded to reveal your red bra, he latched onto your neck, kissing up along your jawline and nipping at your ear, the sound of his harsh breathing sent a tingle at the contact and shivers through your entire body.

You winced when you suddenly felt one of his hands at the back of your head, yanking a handful of your hair causing your head to snap back. It gave him more access and you closed your eyes letting the sharp pain run its course and turn into something pleasurable as he practically devoured your neck. You could feel him inhale deeply, getting high on you, and possibly the lingering aroma of the drugs, and sucking tiny splotches onto your skin then licking to soothe them.

He pushed aside the straps of your bra as his lips travelled down your shoulder before stopping at the curve of your breasts. You briefly opened your eyes to see him fixated on your chest. He uses both hands to grope them.

“You think I didn’t notice these from the stage?” He asks now looking at you, squeezing and releasing them before pulling your bra down, your breasts spilling out of the cups. He instantly latches his mouth onto a nipple, while the other hand digs in between the mattress and your back to unclasp the bra. His tongue swirled around the nub, teeth lightly grazing and sucking at the skin around it.

You run a hand through his hair, it was a little sweaty and you couldn’t blame him. It was getting hot; you could feel the heat radiating off of him. It became even more apparent after he got rid of his shirt and you feel his clammy skin on yours.

He pulls back, straddling your waist, most of his body weight falling on his knees, careful to not to crush you. Your hands cascaded down his chest and rested at his thighs. You gave them a shy squeeze, something you’ve always dreamed of doing and you were only slightly satisfied.

Bucky flashes you another smile before he braces one hand next to your head and leans back over to fish something off the nightstand. When he pulls his other hand back you notice he’s going through something on his phone. Curious, you look at his face trying to get another read at him, but this whole night was just full of surprises. He finally looks at you before speaking.

“Can I ask you something and you promise not to freak out?”

It depends.

“Yeah…” Who were you kidding? You’d gladly get on your knees for this man. He swooped in for another hard kiss, your mind turning into mush just before you could get anything else out.

“I think it’d be so hot if we recorded ourselves,” his face was so close to yours making sure that your focus was on his and only his. He must’ve felt you shift because he allowed more of his weight to drop; he was closing in on you and it was like you almost had no chance of escape. You weren’t going to lie. The way his weight was crushing you and sinking you deeper into the bed felt really nice. You were speechless. He wanted to record a sex tape with you.

“I travel so much,” he starts listing off reasons why while still cradling the side of your face again, your hand bracing his forearm, and starts kissing your face, “it gets really lonely being on the road.” At this point, he’s probably kissed every inch, “I’d love to have this...it’d be so much easier for me to come thinking about you.”

Motherfucker. His dreamy voice speaking those words into you did one hell of a number because you were aching down there plus the way his hips dragged at your still jean-clad lower region didn’t offer much relief.

“I-I don’t know,” you hesitate for a bit. What if his phone got hacked and the footage leaked?

“It’s just for me, baby. I swear,” he asks with hopeful eyes.

Sure, you could’ve had the strength to say no, but you were more than willing to be everything he desired. With your consent, he sealed it with another wild kiss. The magnitude of it setting you ablaze.

Bucky sets his phone back on the nightstand, propping it upright, camera on front face mode to display the both of you on its screen, and at the perfect angle he hits the red record button.

It’s showtime.

He revisits the mission of removing your pants and is this time successful. If you both weren’t so faded, he’d probably have an easier time taking them off, but they were tight, and you were grateful he didn’t clumsily break your ankles in the process. Chucking them somewhere off to the side, with his fingers, he traces the top pattern of the matching red lace panties you had on.

He let out a faint chuckle commenting on how red is his favorite color. Oh, you knew. You precisely chose this set just in case you got lucky. He plants kisses to your hip bones, his lips evading the area that cried out for his attention the most, and slithered down the bed, so he had your calves now placed over his shoulders.

Bucky laid gentle pecks on them and came back up to start nipping at your inner thighs, most likely leaving his mark there also, until you felt the tip of his nose hit your center. Your panties were definitely a deeper shade of red at this point. He pushed your panties to the side enough to get started.

You feel the pads of his fingers begin to rub circular motions at your clit. The first wave causing your hips to jolt involuntarily. You feel the smirk that formed on his face against your thigh at your body’s response.

“So sensitive,” he says pushing your hips back down to continue his task at hand, “and so wet,” he added while pulling his fingers away to examine your arousal that coated his long digits. You don’t take your eyes off him and you almost forget how to breathe when you watch his lips wrap around his fingers, noting his eyes closed and how his cheekbones become more prominent on an already perfect jawline as he sucked them off clean.

When Bucky opens his eyes, they’re darker than before, clouded with lust. He roughly yanked at your panties, still in his other hand, effectively tearing the overpriced garment. After giving it a few more tugs, it was long gone. Headfirst in between your legs, Bucky craved for more of you. He licked a broad strip, down up, to your clit. His tongue teased your folds before dipping inside you, the intrusion causing you to gasp. Your body withered around desperately searching for a path to release. Bucky kept at it, his nose nudging your clit with each plunge his tongue made.

Not denying you of a finish, he adds his fingers into the mix, curling them to find that spot. Noting that your eyes had closed sometime during the act, he stills, and you whine at the sudden halt. Your hand aimlessly reaches out to his face. When you find it, you open your eyes and pick your head up to find out why he had stopped. Bucky offers one of his hands for you to hold on to before speaking.

“Baby keep your eyes on me,” he orders, and his eyes don’t leave yours as his head lowers back down to your pulsing heat. You struggle to keep your eyes open and head from lolling back in ecstasy because you desperately wanted to come. Fuck, he was so talented.

The noises as a result of his onslaught were downright sinful. Bucky’s hips started to ground into the bed trying to relieve some friction of his own. His moans tremble across your entire body. There’s no warning when you come, and you don’t even give him a chance to escape your thighs that clamp around face. Not that Bucky minded, feeling you clench around his fingers as he drank in more of what your body had to offer. Bucky only then emerges when your legs fall limp against the bed.

He plops back down next to you, but as he does so, he pulls you on top of him. Your lips reattach themselves with his and the raw nature of tasting yourself on his lips drive you both mad. He hadn’t even wiped around his face, so you feel the wetness on his chin scrape across yours, staining you with your own arousal.

Your hands moved on their own from planting themselves on his firm chest then working their way down the ripples of his abs, through the trail of hair leading to the top of the waistband of his sweats. You tauntingly pulled the drawstring to loosen it before letting it go and instead grip him through the soft material. Bucky grumbled at your actions, but let you carry on.

You palmed him, getting a feel of how thick and long he was. Bucky was growing whiny with each passing move your hand made, he took matters into his own and grabbed your hand, shoving it into his pants. Your hand instinctively wraps around his hard cock and you give it a light squeeze and a few strokes, generating long drawn out moans to spew from Bucky’s mouth.

His cock felt even better with nothing separating you two. Bucky’s pants and boxers easily slide down his muscular legs, which spread apart to give you room. You maneuver south to lie on your stomach, still in between his legs, and grab his member that was curved resting at his stomach and bring it your face.

“Wait,” he says almost breathlessly. Your mouth is only inches away from the head already weeping profusely. He sits up to rest on his elbows and retrieves his phone from the nightstand. Oh.

“Okay, smile for me,” he directs, and you follow his lead before your tongue darts out at his slit and follow the ring around the tip of his cock. You pull back to savor his taste for a moment, your hands spreading the pre-cum around his shaft. Your strokes are then accompanied by the long licks you give at the sides and to his balls that your other hand had been playing with. Bucky’s head rests on his pillow so his other hand could rest on the back of your head and guide you down his length. Your mouth immediately started to water, but it made it easier for you to bob up and down. He let you move at your own pace for the most part. Bucky pushed your hair off to the side, away from your face to get a better view of the outline of his cock poking at the inside of your mouth. You let his cock drag across the inside of your cheeks a few times until it audibly popped out of your mouth.

“Fuck me. I knew you’d be perfect.” His words mixed with his incessant moans were like honey pouring into your ears. He loved the way your eyes looked directly at him through the camera lens when you come up with a long tantalizing lick to the underside of his cock and crawling back up to straddle him.

Bucky gets a good shot of your flushed face and breasts that had some of your drool combined with his pre-cum running down your body before dropping his phone beside him. He sits up causing you to fall back down at the other end of the bed. He picks out a condom from the nightstand and you watch as it rolls down the length of his cock. You bite your lip watching it twitch.

He’s on his knees, but sitting on the balls of his feet, you are lying down patiently waiting for him. He swipes his cock through the wetness of your pussy, prepping himself to slide in. He’s watching your reaction with each pass his dick makes. Your body is yearning for him to be inside of you, to hit that fucking spot over and over.

Just when you think he’s about to do it, he’s reaching over for that damn phone again. Out of habit, you cover your face with your hands. Not only showing the last shred of humility you had left, but also because you probably looked like a fucking bitch in heat.

Bucky pulls your hands away, he still has the phone in his hands, and he’s got it angled to playback from his point of view before he finally pushes into you. He’s big, much bigger than what you’ve experienced, you think you need a moment to adjust, but he never gives you that opportunity and you find that it doesn’t matter when he feels so good. Too good that you find it hard to breathe with each thrust he’s making because he’s hitting it so deep. You push your hands out in front of you to his lower abdomen and attempt to slow him down. Bucky shakes his head and knocks your hands out of the way.

You let out an abrupt yelp at his retaliation to your failed efforts in trying to stop him with a particularly harder and much forceful thrust. Instead, your hands grab fistfuls of the hotel bed’s white blankets and just let him have his way.

“So beautiful,” he says spreading you further then coming down on you to reclaim your lips with his. He rips your hands from their tight grips on the bed sheets to pin them down next to the sides of your head. You don’t care where his phone went, just happy to have both his hands on you. The skin-to-skin contact just hit different sometimes.

The kisses become so feral you start to feel a burn around your mouth from his stubble. Bucky rolls his hips into yours deliciously, a damn true artist, the rhythm he’s got going sends you just about over but never fully beyond the edge to prolong the climax.

Much to your dismay, Bucky withdraws away from you again, back into his previous position, a new idea popping into his wicked mind. With his hard cock still inside you, he slides his hands under your hips and hoists your lower half up towards him, resting your ass on his thighs, effectively bottoming out. You don’t hold back at the way that made you feel and let out an embarrassingly loud moan. He holds still for a second and you’re not quite sure why. You try to move by wiggling your hips, but he holds you still.

He’s staring at how close your bodies are, connected, he moves just the slightest. It causes your pussy to contract and your stomach to tighten up. He does it again in different intervals, his eyes surveying the entire thing. The next push is a little harder and when you see the devious smile breakthrough his face, he does it even more. The thrusts are much sharper and almost painful, but it quickly subsides when you feel the head of his cock probe at the right spot.

Bucky lifts your hips up higher, your back arching in bridge fashion you weren’t aware you could even do until he resumes his new pattern of thrusts again. This new position aided his cock in hitting your sweet spot a little better. He’s filming you again and resting one of his palms on your stomach. He’s not only watching, but he’s feeling the bulge in your belly from the distension caused by the jabs of his cock.

“That’s my girl,” he praised, continuing to pound into you, “you take this cock so well.” The sight boosts Bucky’s ego and for you it actually probably wasn’t a good thing, but you’d be damned the angle did so many wonders to you right now.

“You love watching your cock go deeper and deeper inside me, Bucky?” You ask trying to look up at him from that position. Where did that come from? Your words cause him to freeze momentarily, but you could still feel his cock throbbing inside of you. He liked that.

Another impish thought running through his head, Bucky pulls out, picking you up so you’re also knee-height with him, giving you another searing kiss, then he’s behind you. He gently pushes you down, you on your elbows, Bucky leans over behind you, his soaked cock sliding up your ass resting on the small of your back as he places his phone back on the nightstand in the same position it had been in the beginning.

You don’t dare look at the screen in front of you, so you look down until you feel Bucky enter your pussy once more from behind. Your head rises and it wasn’t due to the surging pleasure, but because Bucky uses your hair as a rope to bring your body upright with his.

He thrusts up into you while he mutters incoherent slurs and lewd noises into your ear. He peppers the side of your face with wet and uncalculated kisses, his hands massaging your breasts before one of them migrates down to cup your pussy. His fingers dip in and starts another assault to your clit. You’re already tethering off the edge and on the brink of succumbing to him, but he just knew when to let up and keep you starved for more.

“Look at you,” he says, using his other hand to turn your head to face the small screen, the numbers continuing to go up. “You’re such a fucking slut for my cock,” you don’t argue with him and instead moan his name. “You like watching yourself fuck this huge cock, don’t you?” You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore; watching the two of you was hot. Your uncontrollable moans now muffled into Bucky’s palm. And he just kept egging you on, “I know I do. It’s gonna remind me just how tight this fucking pussy is.” Damn him.

“You want to come, baby?” He asks, the speed of his fingers picking up a notch.

You pull down Bucky’s hand to respond, “Mmm, yes. Fuck! Please let me come, Bucky,” you don’t know what has possessed you, but it spurs the both of you on even more. Your next words do it for Bucky, “I want to come all over your cock,” and he’s immediately coming and spilling into the condom, still inside you, you feel his release pump through him. He’s biting your shoulder, some of his weight coming down on you, his thrusts becoming erratic, but one did the trick for you and you finally let go.

And what drives Bucky even more wild, is that you don’t stop. You keep rolling your hips into him, riding it all the way out. Bucky’s trying to hold on, with a bruising grip on your waist, his forehead resting on your back; the aftershock of his release proving too much. Your release pours out freely, you feel some of it slide down the inside of your thighs mixed with sweat.

You sag against Bucky, each of your body weight balancing against the other. You feel him scatter lazy kisses up your back and pull your face towards him to press one against your lips, moaning in satisfaction. He slowly pulls out of you with a low groan, your body feeling numb when you fall forward to lie down on the bed. Bucky discards of the condom and shuts his phone off before settling next to you.

He pushes the hair out of your face, and you, facedown, peek an eye open. He has a more than content look on his face, you notice his eyes were back to their normal color. He allows some time to pass for you both to calm down. Sleep wants to overcome your body, but it doesn’t when Bucky’s touch puts you on notice again. He runs his hand up and down your back. He’s insatiable, but he didn’t anticipate your comeback in the end and put him in a daze. He could get addicted to you.

“Is it weird if I fly you out to Brooklyn?” He said out of nowhere. Brooklyn was thousands of miles away from where you lived. He wanted to pay your way to see him again. It was such an outlandish request. You’re starting to regain a more balanced sense of perception and thought, and you ponder on this for a few seconds. “Never mind. You think it’s weird,” he says lifting the blanket over his head turning his back to you. You could tell he was just trying to be cute.

“Oh, come on! You caught me off guard. You can’t blame me!” You respond, but he doesn’t budge. You muster up enough strength to sit up to lean over the side of his body, resting your chin on the top of his shoulder, and try to grab at the blanket. You pull it over his head and see the lazy smile etched across his pretty face. All you do is return the smile and close your eyes, basking in the post-coital bliss.

“Stay for the night,” came as his last request and turning to lie on his back, wrapping his arms around you.

You don’t think about your car, that’s still parked nearby or care if the parking rate is probably going up by the hour and start eating at your bank account. You don’t think about how pissed your friend would be when she wakes up in the morning and you’re still not back in time. You just think about how tomorrow he’d be far away. You scoot up to give him one more kiss before laying your head to rest on him and make the best out of the present. Happy that you went with your gut on this one.

A/N: This could flop. At first, it was easy to write, but then the ending tripped me up. & while I have your attention, please let me know, anonymously or not, if there’s an interest in a Chase Collins fic? Charles Blackwood smut, anyone? Anyway, I hope this delivered! Thanks for reading!

#mrwinterr writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #marvel fic #rockstar!bucky barnes #rockstar!bucky #rockstar!au #happy

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katsrnerstories · 3 years

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BillDip SlowBurn FanFic Chap. 1

Bill had destroyed Dipper's mind.

It has been a few years since weirdmageddon. Since Dipper and Mabel defeated demons from hellish planes of existence and saved the world and their friends from soul and mind crushing madness.

Dippers a freshman in college now. It was a moment that he had wished for for years. Highschool had been…

Well it wasn't the worst it could have been. Dipper hit a major glow up around the beginning of junior year (with Mabel's help of course) and life was a little easier. He was asked out on dates, went to a few parties here and there that people dragged him to, had some typical highschool fun in the city...

Until around that same time he started getting replies from colleges his senior year, he started to see Bill again. Every once in a while his mind would wander back to that summer, but it was always the good things or nightmares of the horrors they saw.

It started with just a little glimpse here and there. An eye in the back corner of his periphery, some yellow glimpse in a dark room.

A ghostly hand on his shoulder.

But these things were nothing to the first time Dipper realized something was wrong.

Dipper saw Bill in his dreams. And those dreams were beyond nightmares.

He had had nightmares before. Nightmares of weirdmageddon were common for both dipper and Mabel. But these… these were real; as much as a dream could be.

Because of Gravity Falls, Dipper really wasn't afraid of a lot of things that would have scared him. The unknown was comforting to him. Maybe because it wasn't too unknown to him and Mabel.

But bill. During those nightmares, brought everything he feared to the frontlines.

It had been a while since Mabel and him shared a room, so Mabel really didn't know about the fear Dipper experienced those nights.

She was more focused on getting to LA.

She wants to be a criminal psychoanalyst. To look at the minds of people and figure how they tick. Criminals especially.

Dipper could swear that Bill had done something to her to make her go down such a dark career path, but he couldn't say anything; he neither had a psychology degree nor was untouched by Bill himself.

Who really knows, it could have been anything else that happened to her in those hellish four years of highschool.

She had moved away quickly after highschool ended to learn in LA. Of course they facetime and text all the time, but the separation was still felt by both of them.

Everyone missed her presence. Her positivity, her unique personality.

That had transformed into something much darker come junior and senior year. She found out after a few failed boyfriends that she was not only Asexual, but that guys and even girls, can’t seem to give that part of a relationship up. Some even found it offensive that she felt that way.

Dipper went back to oregon. Of course he was in the city, but on weekends he would visit the Mystery Shack and Gravity Falls.

Soos was happy to give him one of the rooms in the basement. Sometimes even Grunkle Stan or Grunkle Ford would visit.

They decided shortly after Dipper and Mabel left that they would travel. Of course Ford's labs still sit under the mystery shack, but when Mabel and Dipper visited Soos the summer of their junior year Ford gave them full control of the labs (as long as Dipper kept everyone safe. Which he did too much annoyance of Mabel)

Soos and his wife at that time had just had a little baby boy, and now have a comfortable four kids, two boys and two girls (three of them were triplets) and run the shack not to much better than Stan did, with the same soul in the campy attractions and overpriced merchandise.

Wendy is in her senior year at a community college in Oregon city, right around the same place Dipper decided to go to school. They hang out pretty regularly, just around weekly.

Robby left gravity falls as soon as he got his GED. Went for New York, looking for a punk career. He sends Wendy emails every once in a while about his music and where he's at.

Shockingly, Pacifica stayed in Oregon, going to the same college Dipper goes to. They see each other, and after leaving her family, she found a lot out about herself and became a much better person.

She found she loved a good smoke and art. Apparently, something she hid from the world was that she loved art. She was probably one of the best artists Dipper had seen. After she left the hell hole of her family, she became really chill. Calm. even nice.

Her and Dipper have coffee pretty much every day. She was one of the only people who also knew what he had gone through.

And she was the only person who noticed as Dipper got worse and worse for wear.

Bill had been particularly evil the past few weeks, taking much more joy in Dippers struggle. Long ago Dipper had just sort of given up on screaming for Bill to stop. But he always refused to make a deal with him to stop the fear. Not again.

“Another nightmare again?” Pacifica asks, as Dipper requests 5 shots of caffeine in his already bitter caffeinated black coffee.

“Yeah. it's getting harder and harder to say no every night. And honestly the empty dorm isn't helping.”

“Why don't you just move in with me? I've got an extra room that's got your name written on the door if you want it.”

Dipper almost accepted, but decided against it. It was kind of weird, no matter how good of friends they were, to live with the ex that made you realized you were gay.

It wasn't her fault, it was just…

He liked a different kind of ass, as Mabel had said when he came out.

No, the daily overpriced coffee meetup was enough.

“Have you talked about it to Ford? Hes got to know something about it if he went through the same thing?”

“I don't want to bother them with it. They thought they got rid of Bill that summer, we all did. Bills my problem now.”

Pacifica gives him a knowing look. She knew that he was breaking, but couldn't figure out how to help him.

“Hows journalism?” Pacifica takes her coffee as she changes the subject.

“As boring as it ever is. Graphic design?”

“As confusing as ever.” Dipper takes a big sip from his steaming coffee. It's a briskly cold morning, enough he brought out his knit set Mabel had made for him on their 18th birthday. He had no shame in wearing it, and it in fact felt comforting today, to know that she was still with him in heart at least.

She never grew out of her sweater thing. She still makes sweaters, using it to get her to the next rent payment sometimes. Everyone can count on a big box with sweaters from her every Christmas here in Oregon.

With their coffees in hand, Dipper and Mabel head off to campus. And once they made it there they said their goodbyes with a hug and went their separate ways to start the day.

Dipper wanders into the lecture hall for his advanced maths class. People filter in as he types away on his computer.

The students around him wanted to be scientists, economists, etc. everyone found it weird that a creative writing major was not only taking advanced maths, this early in the morning, but was killing it. His grades spoke for themselves.

The class starts and Dipper still types away on his computer. He had been bored the night before as he was staving off sleeping and had read a chapter ahead in their textbook. He taught himself the three hour lesson that day in an hour.

It was no doubt that Dipper took after his great uncle Stanford. Grunkle Ford told him at one point that Dipper reminded him of a young Dr. Fiddleford. Dipper didn't really like being compared to the scientist that started a whole cult under Gravity Falls before going batshit crazy himself for a very long time.

He only hoped that he wouldn't end up like him. He didn't want to be some crazy man who roams the town.

Dipper had a story that he needed to finish for his next class. He had started to wear away the stories of Gravity Falls with his creative writing classes that he now had to actually think about what story to write. Mabel helped him out with the premise of the story last night. So he spent that class writing a simple flash fiction of one roaming the backrooms. (an urban legend Mabel had read about in an article somewhere.)

He found comfort in knowing that one thing did not exist to him. That one thing did not sit in the pits of Gravity Falls waiting for Dipper or one of them to unearth it.

The story reminded Dipper of falling through the endless pit just outside the Mystery Shack. A hole where they reminisced on days of the summer as they spent the day, or who knows how long, falling. they were all lucky that it was not, truly, endless.

And quickly the story was finished and the class closed early.

Dipper went for an early lunch. He scrolls through his phone, seeing Mabels three new instagram posts and all the other people she introduced him to.

After Mabel found out Dipper was gay, she went on a mission to hook him up with some LA guy. Oregons not terrible with their acceptance, but it's not something to be very open about. Plus Dipper wasn't the kind to walk pride without someone like Mabel hyping the both of them up. Because god knows that she needs just as much hyping up with who she is as Dipper.

When he walks into his empty apartment, anxiety wells up in Dippers chest. Quickly he turns on the TV, letting it run as white noise as he makes his lunch. The apartment had been empty since his recent relationship ended. Dipper is glad it ended, as the abuse just got too much; yet it was bad for Dipper to be left alone with his thoughts. Especially in an apartment that seemed to hold so much sadness and bad memories.

Mabel, after helping Dippers style, had made him a whole cookbook for him. It had all different kinds of foods, but the main dishes all were healthy. She had gone on a fitness rampage her sophomore year and had never truly grown out of it. It was from a bad place, but she turned it to a positive. As she always does.

She had told him that it was the first thing other than sleep to keep alive longer. She had made him promise that he would try to stay alive.

At this point it was the only thing keeping Dipper alive.

Bill had taxed his mind so much it was rare to find him not paranoid. Bill made Dippers anxiety beyond chronic, and the lack of sleep did not help his depression.

That had developed after Pacifica. It wasn't because of the break up, more at the fact that she had helped him so much.

She had accepted him being gay. She had helped him gain friends during their relationship, and she even helped him when money wasn't the best.

All this caused his anxiety to get to his head.

What if they think I’m evil for breaking it off with her? What if she'll never want to see me again? What if, what if, what if…

His depression had just gotten worse after the breakup and dealing with being alone again. It was the reason Dipper stayed with someone like that for so long.

All of the depression and anxiety ended up crashing down at the same time Bill Cypher ended up crashing into the picture.

At that point Bill only came to terrorise Dipper a few nights a month. It was easier to deal with. Now it's every night.

Dipper finishes making his food, sitting down in front of the TV to watch a show on Netflix.

He had been getting through the true crime shows. He swore that eventually he'd eventually either run a show like it with Mabel or be one of the cold cases lost to the world.

Yet within only a few minutes Dipper not only found himself asleep, but stuck in the mindscape.

“Been trying to avoid me, Pine Tree?”

Dipper no longer was shocked by Bill's voice. In fact the more and more he heard his voice, the more and more it began to sound almost human.

#billdip #gravity falls #whump writing #slow burn #fanfiction #writers #fandom #fanfic #bill x dipper #dipper pines #bill cipher #mabel pines #gravity falls pacifica #adult dipper pines #powerless bill cipher

53 notes · View notes

cloudshapedpatch · 3 years

Text

take my money (take my heart, too)

the awkward julie & luke sugar daddy/baby au no one asked for

rated teen and up for swearing and semi-mature themes such as the concept of a sugar daddy/baby arrangement

no smut! insane tooth-rotting fluff tho

slow burn juke

and disaster lesbians flarrie side plot and (eventual) willex

also a coffee shop au because i said so

read on ao3 (chapter 1 and tag list below the cut)

* * * *

Julie is nervous. No, nervous is an understatement. Her knees bounce uncontrollably under the table, shaky fingers twirling the straw in her iced coffee. And the knot in her stomach seems to grow ever tighter.

She pulls out her phone to check the time for the third time this minute. How is it still 10:57 am? Just as she is about to put her phone back in her pocket, it buzzes with an incoming text from her best friend/roommate, Flynn.

Flynn: calm down

Julie smiles despite herself, turning around to look at her friend a few tables away. Thank goodness for her friend, willing to throw away a morning to make sure she is safe and comfortable on her blind date. She shoots Flynn a small smile. Flynn, to their credit, is taking their job very seriously, wearing an absurdly large sunhat and sunglasses, sipping on a mug of hot tea with a decoy book under her nose.

Julie turns to anxiously watch the baristas, moving around the small space with ease, mixing drinks hot and cold alike. Twirling around each other without even looking. And she lets her mind wander.

How had she gotten here? Waiting for a man whom she had never spoken to, let alone seen? And she isn’t counting their text messaging. Not really. Not even if they had been talking for weeks. Not even if they regularly stayed up well into the night just to keep talking to the other. Not even if he had her blushing furiously, toes curling from giddiness and hiding under her sheets, smiling at the flirtatious speech bubbles on her phone for longer than she’d like to admit.

Because that doesn’t count. She has never heard his voice. She has never seen what he looked like. Anyone could be a charmer, and she is undoubtedly nervous about who she might find walking through the door and towards her.

How had she gotten here? It is a simple question, and one she has the answer to. Doesn’t mean she likes it. She had made an offhand comment to Flynn at work one day. Julie is sick of working 12 hour days in the cafe (not this one. she would be dumb to meet a stranger in her workplace) and barely scraping by. She had joked she needed someone to fund her shopping sprees.

Flynn had suggested a sugar daddy.

Julie wants to bang her head on the table. Past Julie is an idiot. And now Present Julie is going to pay the price.

Why had she let Flynn convince her to download that dumb app?

(Because she has a virtually useless college degree, bills to pay, and school loans creeping up on her and she is cutting back every month. Living in L.A. isn’t cheap.

And, if she really lets herself think about it, Julie is lonely.)

She checks her phone again, pleased to find it is finally 11 am. He should be here any minute. Luke should be here any minute.

Is it a red flag that he had only been willing to share his first name? Should it have concerned her that he didn’t have a profile picture on his online dating account? Is she dumb for letting him change the subject every time she asked about his job? Solid ‘maybe’s to all of those, but! After they had started talking, they had instantly clicked. He loves music almost as much as she did, maybe even more. They bonded over that, and many other things.

This is fine.

She straightens her posture, glancing down at her dress to make sure all is in order. It’s baby blue with golden sunflowers all over, and she had slipped a cropped denim jacket on top, the one with patches of all her favorite bands. She fusses with the loose curls hanging by her face, her hair pulled into a half bun at the top of her head, leaving a clear view of her sunflower earrings. It’s the perfect outfit to be noticed in, she had told him she’d be wearing blue and sunflowers, certainly he wouldn’t miss her.

Whenever he decided to show up.

Wait. he would show up, wouldn’t he?

Of course he would.

...Right?

Before she can get too far down that rabbit hole, the chime above the door is jingling, and Julie has to fight hard not to turn and see who it is. The anticipation crawls up her spine and settles in her neck, jaw tingling.

A man comes in, approaching the counter with confidence in his step. One barista takes one look at him and gapes like a fish, turning to a coworker to nonchalantly point at him. Both girls look at each other and quietly squeal, letting one of the male cashiers help him.

Must be attractive, she thinks, and she isn’t disappointed by what she can see from the back. His sleeves are short, showing off his muscular arms and he’s tall. She’s always liked tall men.

Supposedly handsome stranger orders his drink and waits at the counter for it. One of the girls hands it to him with a gleeful smile. He accepts, then says something to her before the girl’s smile falters and points right at Julie.

Wait, she’s pointing at Julie?

Definitely handsome stranger follows her finger and lands on Julie, eyes scanning up and down her body (at least, what he can see from above the table), his face instantly lighting up in the most gorgeous smile she’s ever seen.

And then he’s turning back to say thank you and then making his way towards her and oh no what what what--

Because this isn’t her date. It can’t be, right? But Luke Patterson is stepping up to her booth, sliding into the seat across from her.

“Hey, you’re Julie, right?” His voice, sweet and thick as honey, and Julie would know that voice anywhere.

“Luke Patterson? You… you didn’t say--” She cuts herself off before she can say something foolish.

Because there is no way in hell she’d unknowingly put up her sugar baby services to Luke fucking Patterson. Not rockstar Luke Patterson. Not lead guitarist and singer and songwriter for her favorite band, Sunset Curve. Not literally in the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame Luke Patterson.

“Yeah, about that… I am really sorry about not telling you. It’s just not something I like mentioning to everyone I meet, you know?”

She’s having a hard time processing what he’s saying. He’s so close. Why is he leaning on the table like that? Why is he so close?

“Yeah! Yeah, totally. That’s understandable.” She laughs nervously, taking a sip of her coffee to avoid speaking any further.

“This… this is okay, right? You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” This clears her mind a bit. She takes in the way his hands fiddle with the rings on his fingers, his shoulders raised, and while his smile is easygoing, his eyes say otherwise. Why would she be mad?

She expresses this to him, and he just looks at his hands.

“Well, because I wasn’t completely truthful with you. And I totally understand if you want to walk away.”

“No!” She says before she can filter herself. His eyebrows raise in amusement. “I mean, it’s fine! I was just… surprised, that’s all.”

And surprised is correct. Luke Patterson is the same Luke she’s been talking to for the last three weeks, the very same one who’s been making her laugh and who’d almost made her miss work last week because they had texted about everything and nothing until the sun came up.

He seems to like her answer. His smile never leaves his face.

“You seemed to recognize me. You a fan of Sunset Curve’s?”

And maybe it’s the way his cocky smile burns her cheeks, or just the fact that he’s talking to her. Panic sets in and she lies.

“Never heard of Sunset Swerve.”

“You knew my name.”

“You know it’s a household name, right?”

“Your jacket says otherwise.”

And shit. She had forgotten about the Sunset Curve patch right over her heart. In fact, it was the first patch she had put on the jacket. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“Fine. You caught me. I’m a Curver. Happy?”

And though she’s teasing, he couldn’t seem to be happier. Seriously, she’s worried his dopey grin is gonna break his face. Then an ugly, ugly thought rears its head in her mind.

“Wait. You let me gush about Sunset Curve so many times and you didn’t say anything?” Her sentence ends in a laugh.

“Oh, Julie, I wanted to so bad. You have no idea!”

Julie finds herself not really registering the second half of his sentence. She had missed it, the first time he said her name due to being starstruck, and her face warms a bit when she recalls just how good her name had sounded when he said it. Like a splash of cool water on a hot day. Like sap dripping fresh from a tree, glinting in the sunlight.

“Then why didn’t you?”

He sobers a bit at this, though his eyes still hold the same fire as before. “Well, I didn’t really want to go around announcing that. Can you imagine how many matches I’d get if I put that little tidbit in my bio?”

Julie laughs at this, the absurdity of it hitting her. Of course. He’d want someone who’d like him for him, not for his status, or name, or fame or money.

Oh. Shit. She was literally here for his money.

“For sure! Must’ve been hard.”

“Oh, not really. I matched with you on day one and deleted the app once we exchanged phone numbers.”

“Really?” Julie felt a little guilty for still having the app on her phone now, even after she was pretty sure Luke was a good match. There was still the possibility that mystery man was a total creep. If she’d have known who he was, on the other hand…

“Totally! I’ll be honest, my bandmates put me up to this, but once we started talking I just knew I had to meet you.”

Julie’s mind still feels a bit foggy, like she was dreaming. A fantastic dream, might she add.

“I’ve been really excited to meet you too. My best friend also convinced me to get the app. She’s actually over there.” Julie smiled, nudging her head over towards her friend, where they were certainly trying their best to eavesdrop.

“Brought a plus one, I see?” Luke chuckled, giving Flynn a wave. Flynn hid her already shielded eyes from view with her book.

“Hey, you gotta remember I was meeting someone whom I had never seen before, and the fact that I didn’t know your last name was not helping.”

Luke’s smile turned bashful again. “Ah. She’s backup.”

“Yep! But I think they’re good to go.” Julie whipped out her phone and sent Flynn a quick message, relieving her of her duties.

“You sure? I might kidnap you.”

“I’d let you kidnap me.”

Oh god. She so did not say that.

He seemed to think it was funny. At least she was amusing. At her own expense, maybe, but amusing nonetheless.

Amusing to Luke Patterson.

If she doesn’t stop saying his last name, she’ll go insane. This is just the dorky guy she’s been talking to. The one she’ll hopefully get to talk to tomorrow.

Despite the rocky start, Julie would say it was a successful date. Coffee turned into lunch at a nearby bistro, and he walked Julie to her car a few blocks away. She didn’t get to her apartment until after 4 o’clock, and Flynn was waiting with two glasses of wine in their shared living room. Julie is eager to spill all the details, and Flynn is the perfect listener, oohing and ahhing at all the right moments.

As Julie crawls into bed after her eventful day, her phone dings on her nightstand.

PayPal: Luke Patterson sent you $500.00 “I had a great time today :) hope to see you again soon!”

Well. If she had calmed down any, this just undid all of her efforts. A wave of guilt floods over her. The concept of a sugar daddy sort of seemed too outlandish to really fathom. But now she feels awful taking his money.

She’s really doing this, isn’t she?

Julie: you really didn’t have to

Luke: but i wanted to

Luke: it’s ok tho right?

Julie: i guess it’s fine, it’s just a lot of money

Luke: i realise how conceited this is going to sound but its no sweat off my back. just think of it as a gift

Gifts. She could live with that.

* * * *

taglist! @ladyblanche :)

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ruubles · 3 years

Text

A Bundle of Crimson Roses (Pt.3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

Warnings: Cursing , Alcohol , Suggestive Themes , Gore , Blood, Violence

Word Count: 6790

Y/N) stood at the back of the gazebo, her body leaned atop the white wooden rail as she stared out across the well maintained garden. Flowers twisted in the moonlight and swayed in the gentle breeze, rose bushes stood without a branch out of place and recently pruned, and the fountain brought a continuous stream of sound. These little details had been the focus of her attention, the only thing dragging her mind away from the bodiless head sitting on the ground behind her.

She hadn’t brought herself to do anything with it yet, leaving it there in hopes that maybe it was just a hallucination, but the longer she stood the more the realization came crashing down. In her time under the Port Mafia she’d seen, and done, horrible things that were considerably worse than this. Even so, she was shocked that someone would risk their life to get the corpse only to leave its head behind as a warning.

That’s what this was. A warning.

A warning to stay away. A warning to not track these people down. Whoever had been responsible for this murder was dangerous and they wanted the mafia to know that. They not only created a drug that could remove someone’s ability, but they went through all the trouble of tracking the victim down to keep this information from them. It was a basic strategy but well thought for this situation. As long as they left behind as little traceable evidence as possible then it would be near impossible to find the culprit.

“Fuck. That sure explains the missing body.” (Y/N) had lost herself in thoughts of the situation and hadn’t noticed Chuuya’s approach. She didn’t bother to turn around and listened as he approached her, his steps were shallow light as he took the longest route around the head. After a moment she felt him beside her, his arms crossed and laid on the railing. “You should have told me you found something, I was still searching the house!”

He huffed a little as he spoke, eyes focused ahead just as hers were. “Sorry, I guess I got caught up thinking about something. I haven’t had a partner in quite some time.”

“Tch. You don’t have to apologize, I’m not used to a partner either. Last time I had one, it was that shitty Dazai.”

(Y/N) chuckled, her grim face shifting to one with a slight smile. She shook her head at the mention of the suicidal man, he was quite the topic in the Port Mafia, even after he abandoned them. “I was never that close with Dazai, but I knew of him through a friend. It would seem many people perceive him in different ways.”

“Many people don’t like him, and I couldn’t agree with those people more.” Chuuya turned to look at (Y/N), finally acknowledging that she had at some point turned to face him. Her (E/C) eyes met his and he could see that glint in them, not the one of seriousness from this morning, but the playfulness he’d seen in her last night.

“Who are you Chuuya Nakahara?”

The question was a strange question, similar to the ones he’d been asked when they first met only twenty-four hours before. “That’s a dumb question for someone Mori spoke so highly of.”

“I’m no fool Chuuya Nakahara, I’ve looked into the case files of almost every high ranking member of the Port Mafia. You are the person with the least amount of information. I was able to get more from Mori’s own public file than your private one.” (Y/N) backed away from the ledge and took a few steps away from Chuuya, carefully watching her movements to stay a good distance from the head. “I’m working with someone who I know nothing about. Mori knows you’re loyal to him, but I have no reason to believe that you wouldn’t shoot me if the opportunity provided itself.”

“Now why would I do that? Mori made you my partner, and I’m not going to disobey a direct order from him.” Chuuya scoffed and turned to face her. “Plus you’re one to talk about minimal information when your file doesn’t exist. I may not be the most strategic person in this mafia, but I do like knowing who I’m dealing with.”

“It would seem we’ve hit a roadblock then. My files, both public and private, were burned upon request and I assume the missing information from yours is also ash.” (Y/N) stepped towards Chuuya, their eyes locked in a challenge with one another. Her eyes changed rapidly to a dark piercing gaze, as if the trust she’d gained for him had drained at a rapid pace. “I have no doubt that our partnership will be beneficial in this case, but if neither of us trust one another then I see no reason for us to be friends.”

~x~

Chuuya’s eyes remained glued to the road ahead, his ears honed in on the quiet breathing of the seat diagonal to his own. If he focused he could see the faint outline of a person in his peripheral vision, but their body still remained shrouded in darkness. (Y/N) had chosen to sit in the back of his car, to the seat opposite of her was a bloody bag securely buckled down.

They hadn’t spoken even a word after their show down in the gazebo, perhaps newfound apprehension had been built between both parties. Few people knew of Chuuya’s past, but he understood that the mystery made any relations he had with another person difficult. For all (Y/N) knew he was a treacherous fiend that would stab her at moments notice. Though that statement applied for him as well, he had done his digging in the hours before he’d seen her standing alone outside and the stories of her did not disappoint.

The woman without a face, that was the constant whenever they mentioned her. He hadn’t a clue what it meant but whatever it was made her dangerous. Far more than most people of the mafia. Tidbits of information wormed their way into his mind, some of which were likely untrue, but the more he learned the less he really knew. From what he’d been told she’d joined the mafia at a fairly young age, just a little bit before the Dragon’s Head Conflict, and during the conflict was when her true strength had come to light. Mori promoted her just after the whole fight started, but he told no one but Daza and a few people who knew of her.

“Tomorrow I propose we go to the scene of the fight. We could likely find some bullet casings or leftover blood. It could be a lead for where to find these people.” Chuuya could see in his eyes that even though she was speaking to him, she hadn’t turned away from the window.

“We could go in the morning and-”

“Afternoon.” She cut him off. “I have business to attend tomorrow morning and I would much rather not be forced to reschedule. My apologies for cutting you off, but please continue.”

Chuuya rolled his eyes but made no comment on her rude interruption. “Then we can meet up tomorrow afternoon; Do you need a ride?”

(Y/N) hummed to herself for a moment before answering him. “If it isn’t too much trouble. My business is at a bakery on Southwest Street: Kim’s Kreamy Delights. They have some of the best sweets I’ve ever tried, I’m a big fan of their Dasik, but Mrs.Kim only makes them on Lunar New Year. When it’s not around that time, I usually get a kkwabaegi.”

“You seem well acquainted with sweet treats, I assume you know that they aren’t healthy.” Chuuya’s comment was somewhat judgmental, but it seemed to fly over (Y/N)’s head. Her mind still focused on the warm treats she would get whenever she was in town.

“I know that, but I do things for the enjoyment of myself. We are members of a mafia Chuuya, I’ve never expected to live a long life, nor a happy one. If you wish to judge then do so but I will not be changing my habits based on your criticism.” He had thought she hadn’t noticed the backhanded rudeness he’d displayed but it seems as though she had.

There was a strange silence that fluttered through the air of the car as the light of the city finally made its way through the car's windows. Slowly the trees on the outer rim of the city turned to buildings and the streetlamps illuminated the faces, every post passing by in a fleeting second before another one replaced the eerie orange light. Chuuya’s car sped down the street, not one to abide by normal street laws, and every sharp turn brought them closer to the mafia’s headquarters.

After a couple of minutes he pulled up in front of the towering building, its floors spiralling upwards into the stars. Several windows could be seen alive with a blazing light, not a strange sight considering many of the mafia’s business matters occurred during this time of night. Usually Chuuya would be in there monitoring what went on in every crevice of that building, but instead he was heading home to an empty apartment where he’d be receiving regularly spaced messages updating him on what was going on. It had been Mori’s order for him to get some rest, but the work of a mafia member was never done when night fell.

“Are you sure I can’t drop you off at the place you’re staying at? I don’t mind driving a little further.” Chuuya had extended his offer not because he was kind, but because Mori had been clear that someone should be looking out for this woman. He’d gone as far as assigning Hirotsu to monitor her, there had to be a reason he’d want someone of such importance to watch out for someone as capable as an executive.

“I’ll be fine, but thank you for the offer. There’s some papers I want to take a look at before going to my residence.” (Y/N) opened the door of the car, bringing both her legs out onto the sidewalk with a gentle click of her heels. She hesitated before turning back around. Her hand latched onto the top of the sheet that they had used as a handle and dragged the head towards her. “I truly am sorry for my words earlier. One of my bad habits is trying to forget my past, and I let that get to me. If it’s okay, I would like to take back my rude words.”

That was surprising. In the garden, (Y/N) had been so serious and gave off the same feeling that Mori gave off whenever someone questioned his authority. She was authoritative when she spoke of her burned files and her going back on her word of their relationship being nothing more than partners was something he hadn't expected. Thirty minutes ago he’d fully been prepared for her to be just another person he sees at work, but yet here she was apologizing. Every time they spoke it was like talking to another person, but this is the one who he’d met that had no apprehensions brought about by their job; This was the woman who was behind the mask of the mafia.

“I’m not one for friends.” (Y/N) had tried to hide the slight slump of her shoulders at his words, but he noticed the slight change before she stepped out of his car. She closed the door without turning around and began to walk towards the building's entrance. Chuuya rolled the window down and called out. “But I would like to try one of those kkwabaegi you were telling me about.”

She stopped her motions and turned to face him with the smallest of smiles on her face. “You butchered that name.”

“Oh shut up!” He snapped before rolling up the window and speeding off. (Y/N) watched as his car went down the street and eventually turned the corner. Her (E/C) bleary with a tiredness she’d held for so long. They were far from friends, but in the mafia did anyone really have a friend? A life like theirs was not made for relationships greater than the ones they formed at work and that was a fact (Y/N) had learned a long time ago. She didn’t expect anything from Chuuya, but she hoped that maybe when this was all over that there might be someone who wants her to stick around.

“So are you enjoying your new partner?” The voice was deep and sudden, there had been no one around moments before. (Y/N) showed no surprise of this person's newfound presence; She had known the moment he had appeared behind her. “The kids aren’t mad, but they are expecting you to take them out for ice cream. You’d better not disappoint them or I’ll pour all your wine into a bush.”

“Oh come on Isaac, I may not be the most caring person in the world but I wouldn’t disappoint those kids. Not again.” (Y/N) turned to face her friend. Isaac stood with his head turned up as he let out a puff of air and watched as it turned white and then disappeared. He wore the same outfit he wore whenever he was bartending: A dark gray button up tucked into a pair of pitch black jeans, simple but with the added spice of five undone buttons to reveal a well sculpted body beneath. He was a person of habit. “Did you just finish a shift?”

“No? What gave you that idea?” They walked side by side to one another, Isaac’s hand buried in his pocket as they approached the building.

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks, a deadpan expression replacing the sly smile she’d worn moments before. “You cannot tell me that outfit is the extent of your closet.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean!” Isaac snapped, hand pulled from his pocket as he balled his fingers into a fist. “I have better fashion than you Ms.I-Dress-Like-An-Cubicle-Worker.”

“Oh quit it, you’re acting so childish, Isaac.” (Y/N) shook her head and walked into the building, neither of the guards questioning her presence much. Her comrade followed her lead and stayed close as though fearful of being found for being out of place. “I thought better of you.”

“Oh shut it you hag, let’s just get this over with.”

~x~

“I doubt there’s anything left at the scene of the fight. Especially if you say it's a city owned warehouse.” Isaac sighed and fell back on his chair before continuing. “They’re easy to access and I doubt that someone willing to go through all the trouble of disposing the body wouldn’t clear that place out.”

Mori sat at his usual spot at the head of the table, silent as he listened to both (Y/N) and Isaac shoot ideas off one another. He seemed enthralled in his own thoughts as he considered a plan of action. They all sat close to one another, Mori at the head of his table with one of them sitting in a chair on either side of the table. So close there was no need for their voices to be raised and that meant that anyone outside would have a hard time listening in.

It was strange for someone so strong and hated like Mori to allow an outsider like Isaac to ever be near him, but after all Mori had done for them both he trusted them more than a lot of the members of the mafia. (Y/N) was his executive and by extension Isaac was loyal, though he would not hold his tongue around him like she would.

“(Y/N), you must have an assumption as to who is behind this. Please clarify who it is.” Mori wanted to hear all the information, even if it might be wrong.

“Is that really even a question, Ougai? You’ve had the same assumption considering you didn’t only bring me back here, but you called a meeting with my old partner.” (Y/N) was apprehensive to continue, her idea had a lot of backing and would likely be true. For now it was only that, an idea, but the more they investigate the closer she’ll get to the life she used to have. “I think it was them. That old man is smart and a drug like this isn’t far from something he’d do.”

Isaac gritted his teeth, trying to find an argument for why it wouldn’t be them. Anything to keep the idea of them coming back out of his mind. They’d spent so much effort to escape their past and join Mori that even a possibility of the past coming back to haunt them was pestilent. “There wasn’t anything left with the part of the body they left behind. It’s protocol to leave them with every single body, you know that.”

“Of course I do, but there are exceptions to that rule! Given a direct order from him you don’t have to-”

“And if it is absolutely impossible, I know.” Isaac cut her off to continue his idea. “Something like this, so large, the old man wouldn’t want to let anyone take credit for it. He wants people to know it's them so they’ll be afraid.”

“There were roses in her garden.”

“You said she had a garden full of flowers of all kinds.” He argued back, hand hitting the table a bit too harshly. “A couple of roses bushes doesn’t fucking matter!”

“Enough.” Mori interjected. He’d taken both Isaac and (Y/N) in at a young age, but they both had a tough time before he found them. They may not have been together these past few years but they are still better partners than any two people who ever graced the mafia. Above all Mori sought to keep things neutral between them both so that they wouldn’t say anything they’d regret when things calmed down. “We have to think rationally and take a moment to talk it over. Neither of you are foolish, I’ve seen the things you can accomplish together but tensions are high right now. For now we assume it’s one of the recent organizations who have stood against us.”

It was silent for a moment as the pair thought things over. They’d lived a long life with shared pains but they both had managed to come out better for it. Isaac was raising five kids and smiled everyday as though it were his last, on the other hand (Y/N) buried herself in work and drowned herself with expensive delicacies to erase it all. They were like family and neither of them would blame the other for how things went after Oda’s death.

“If it’s not?” Isaac’s voice was low and gravelly as though he were on the verge of tears. It was weak and pitiful, but it explained exactly how they were feeling. “What if it is them, Mori? Do we fight them? We won’t win that.”

“It isn’t them.” (Y/N) cut in before Mori could say a word. “It can’t be. We went through so much to slaughter them during the Dragon’s Head Conflict. The numbers don’t lie, nearly every branch was pruned because of us. To come back now, and with enough people to even consider facing the Port Mafia, is impossible.”

Isaac slid his chair back and stood up, dark eyes more gloomy than they were glossy. “You seem to forget (Y/N), pruning is done to help a plant grow.”

~x~

Chuuya looked from his phone to the fancy hotel he’d parked across the street from. His eyes held hesitation as he scanned across the messages on his device one final time. Part of him wanted to ignore the messages and just go home, but doing this had become a ritual. A guilty pleasure that helped calm his riled nerves.

‘I don’t have work tonight if you want to drop by our special spot.’

‘C’mon Chuuya, at least let me know if you’re going to show up. I need to know if I should open the champagne sooner rather than later.’

‘Fine. I’ll be waiting, but until then let me leave you with a special present.”

‘Attachment: 1 Image’

Chuuya’s eyes scanned across the image once again, to say it was scandalous was an understatement. There was no face presented in the image, instead the picture captured a woman’s body adorned in a set of elegant hand-woven red lace lingerie. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the outfit considering he’d been the one to take it off her many times before.

Their relationship was nothing more than a late at night call whenever they needed to relieve some stress. Neither of them knew much of the other, their names had come the first night they’d grabbed a drink and their sexual desires came soon after. Though there were a few things he noticed: Her schedule was not linear, he’d get spontaneous messages throughout the month asking if he were free. Most of the time he could clear just a bit of time and make his way here to meet with her for a few hours.

They’d been doing this for months at this point and he still couldn’t wrap his head around the stupidity of his actions. Everytime he said he would end things off and never see her again, then as though he were wrapped around her finger he would be back here: Car parked in the same spot as always and his route to the room the same. A member of the mafia took a risk two or three times a month to visit a woman whose life he hadn’t a clue of.

Using his memory, Chuuya made his way through the lobby, passing by a clerk who offered a knowing nod in his direction. It was the same thing time after time but that familiarity was something he clung to. No one questioned him. No one asked why he did something. No one looked to him for answers. It was the opposite of what he did for work, but it was so much more freeing.

Taking the elevator up, Chuuya watched as the red numbers changed, going up one by one until finally the number fifteen. One final chime echoed through the metal cage and the doors slid open into a long spiraling hallway. Three steps out of the elevator, three doors to the right, and on his left. That path he’d memorized after his third meeting with this strange woman.

With a deep breath Chuuya tried to prepare himself to end this debacle that could become scurrilous if things were to go wrong. He opened the door and slid into the room quietly as though trying to go unnoticed. The sound of a running shwoer gently swayed throughout the room and he knew that she was getting ready for what she presumed to be his imminent arrival. He slid off his cape and hung it on the coat rack besides the door, his hat following suit.

The water shut off and a voice called out to him from somewhere beyond sight. “Oh Chuuya~”

Her voice was sweet as it called, drawing out the a at the end of his name to grab his attention. Getting the message he walked from the main room into the small, but still fairly large, bedroom. There she stood, body wrapped in a white towel that barely covered the most private portions of her body.

Alberta Einstein. She was a beauty to behold; her almond shaped eyes holding the deepest most dark irises you might ever see as if they were shadows coming to life with no light reflecting off of them. Long white hair would usually be flowing down her back and sway gently every time she took a step. Her figure was lean but she seemed to have curves in places that would make any man fall in a matter of moments. Now, standing bare in a bath towel, she was ravishing. Droplets of water dripping from her body and onto the floor, running from her neck down to her towel, and more littering the floor of the bathroom.

“I wasn’t sure you would show.” Her feet sunk into the carpet as she walked towards Chuuya, imprints of water marking her chosen pathway. Once close enough, her hand danced around his top button before easily sliding it undone. Slowly she moved to the second button and slowly began to undo it as well, but she hesitated. “Something wrong?”

Her eyes danced up to meet his, a shade so dark that his light blue eyes could never fathom their depths. “We should stop this.”

“You’re quite right, Chuuya. This relationship is going no where and it never will: We’ve been having casual sex for months but neither of us have caught an ounce of feelings.” She leaned into his lips, heat fanning across his face as she spoke, still continuing to fiddle with his buttons. “But isn’t that the fun part, my dearest Nakahara? Life isn’t about love even if people wish it was; It’s about enjoying yourself so much that you can’t possibly find it in your soul to frown.”

She leaned in and finally met his lips in the softest most gentle kiss she’d ever given to him. Her lips were warm as she pressed her body flush against his. With quick hands she undid the buttons at a much faster pace than the one she’d set before. Chuuya knew better than to let her do this once again but he quickly melted into her touch. Their lips entwined with one another as her mouth parted to let a gentle moan escape.

“I must say your sexual prowess surprises me. For such a short man you truly are skilled in bed.” She taunted his height, attempting to mask it with a compliment. They’d played this game time and time before.

“Tch. Same as always Ally, crude and judgemental so much so that you can’t even acknowledge your own shortcomings.” He moved from her lips to just under her ear, teeth grazing against her earlobe and sending a shudder down and throughout her body. “Last time we were together I specifically remember you getting so worked up that you could barely beg for more.”

She smirked and gulped down a large portion of air. Ally was not nervous, it was apparent on her face, instead she was excited. “That’s because I’m not a beggar.”

Chuuya had a response gliding across his tongue but before it could come out the incessant ringing of a phone bleared through the room. Ally let out an audible groan and pushed Chuuya away, hand lingering on his unbuttoned shirt for just a bit too long. Part of him wanted to pull her back but then he reasoned with himself and realized that his wish of ending things could still come true. With the interference of an outsider he had caught the slipup he’d made many times before.

“What the hell do you want, Thomas?” Ally snapped through her phone, she paced back and forth as she listened to the person on the other line. After a moment she stopped dead in her tracks. “You really are useless without me. Fine, fine I didn’t mean it.”

She turned to Chuuya and gave that smile, the same one he’d often give her when his work called him away from the hotel room. Though this time he was pleasantly surprised by the situation. Furthering contact with someone so wrapped in mystery was not beneficial in any way. If anything it was dangerous and reckless. She meant nothing to him and that feeling was mutual, so neither of them had any real attachments to one another. It was best to end things here so that neither of them had too many hard feelings when things would inevitably go bad in a few more months. Casual sex and a freind with benefits was the closest he’d ever get to a real relationship given his line of work, but even that was something he hadn’t saught after much in his time.

“I was busy.” She growled into her phone before taking a deep breath and calming her nerves. After a moment her resolve and anger faded in one swift motion and she sighed. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, just wait for me in the meeting room okay?”

With a final goodbye she hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed. She followed suit with her phone and fell onto the white bedding, face smashing against the soft comforter they would usually be tangled in by now. “This is for the best Alberta. I meant what I said. My job isn’t the most lenient and I don’t need distractions right now, so this is my final goodbye to you.”

She turned to look at him, watching as he redid the buttons she’d worked to undo. Turning over she spread her arms across the bed and closed her eyes. A soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “That’s true, my job is also picking up pace right now. We have a big projecting starting and I’d hate to miss out on it because of an outside relationship. Perhaps when things settle down we could meet up again, relive the first we met.”

“That won’t be necessary, when I say final goodbye I mean it.” Her ears perked up and she sat up, realizing now that he had already left the room and slid on his jacket. She heard the door open and then once again his voice rang through her ears. “Find yourself someone who’s actually in love with you, okay? Someone who’s worth your time.”

With those final words, the door closed to the hotel room and she was left alone to her thoughts. Intrigued by the man who she’d enraptured by her beauty. She had no romantic feelings towards him, but she was quite sad that their days of booty calls would no longer be happening.

~x~

Chuuya walked through the halls of the Port Mafia’s building, against the order he’d been giving he returned to headquarters in hopes of catching Mori before he left. Though after travelling up to the top floor he’d come to the conclusion that his boss had already left. He’d likely have gone to get rest for the night or take Elise to do something better than sit around his office.

“Chuuya.” Kouyou’s appearance behind him was sudden, her steps quiet as ever as she approached with her usual long strides. Her dress swayed as she continued by his side. As usual she spoke and moved in a way so elegant that she resembled a goddess. “How is your evening? I could have sworn Mori told you to return to your residence.”

“It’s late Kouyou, you should’ve gone home hours ago.” Chuuya tried to divert the subject from his disobedience, but he knew that even so Kouyou would insist. She was a Port Mafia executive above all else but that did not mean she was heartless. It was fleeting comments that passed by ever so often that reminded him of this; She cared about him in a similar sense to how she cares for Kyouka. “Do you have any idea where Mori might be? It’s late but usually he wouldn’t have left by this time.”

“Last time I saw him, he was meeting with (Y/N) and that handsome young bartender. I always forget his name but he makes the most wonderful cocktails.” Her voice sounded nearly dreamy as she recalled the delicious drinks she’d enjoy ever so often. Kouyou was the type of person who could handle her liquor well, unlike himself, and he’d seen her drink a dozen fruity drinks without ever slurring a single word. It was honestly somewhat startling. “Though I do remember he stormed out and your partner followed close behind. They sounded as though they were having a heated discussion but I was too caught up in a phone call to hear much of what they said.”

“Isaac.” Chuuya said slowly , Kouyou perked up and turned to him with a soft questioning hum. “That’s his name. Why would Mori want to meet with a random bartender? I thought (Y/N) said she was going home.”

The woman next to him chuckled, she pressed the button to call the elevator before turning to him. “I have no clue why Mori would want to speak with that man but I assume he has a reason and we should not question him. As for (Y/N), I’m glad to see you’re getting along with her. You were quite opposed to your partnership during the meeting this morning.”

“Getting along isn’t the phrasing I’d use.” Chuuya grumbled, arms crossing as he turned to face the elevator instead of his mentor. “I don’t trust that woman. She’s hiding something and I’d rather not be staring down the barrel of a gun when I find out what it is.”

They fell into silence, neither of them knowing what to say. Chuuya wasn’t in the wrong for believing she was hiding something, no one who can switch their personality as quick as her is being genuine. Mori trusts her and that is abundantly clear but what isn’t is why he’d never heard of her. Another executive that no one knew of was strange to say the very least. For now he wouldn’t question her much, instead seeing what he can find out without her realizing he’s digging around for information.

Kouyou knew a little of (Y/N), Mori had told her some of the stories about the feats she’d completed during her time in Russia. She knew there was more to the story but if Mori had trust in her to stay loyal to them then it was not her place to question it. One thing was clear to her from the way that her boss spoke: (Y/N) was strong and she is not foolish, and keeping her hidden from everyone was a strategy of the finest creation. He hadn’t told her what his ability is but whatever it was it made her abnormally strong compared to a regular mafioso.

“Your accusation is likely true, she is hiding something from us but I believe that Mori knows exactly what it is. We’ve pledged our lives to the mafia which means we are to have faith in our boss.” Finally after what felt like minutes the elevator door dinged and began to open. “I have a strong feeling that you and your new partner aren’t nearly as different as you’d like to believe… Perhaps I’m just being foolish.”

“You really should be getting some rest, my dear (Y/N).” The voice of Mori coed from the elevator, his slender hands wrapped around her shoulders as he gave them a gentle squeeze. She tried to shrug him off but the further she got from his grasp the tighter his hold became. It was almost as though watching a father taking care of his young daughter, but below the surface they were hiding something. Chuuya and Kouyou had been so enraptured with their own conversation that they hadn’t bore witness to the quiet whisper Mori had slipped to (Y/N) before the doors were all the way open.

“Get off of me you old man!” She shouted, bringing her foot back on his before whirling around. Not noticing his presence, her back bumped against Chuuya’s chest. He stumbled a bit at the sudden added weight but his arms caught around her and steadied them both. Surprised, she turned to face her hero with an utterly sweet smile. “Oh? Hello Chuuya, I didn’t expect to see you again this evening. Did you not have plans to attend?”

Mori perked up at the mention of one of his executives, specifically the one he’d told to take the night off. “Plans fall through often, no big deal. I just thought I’d come to make sure that Mori had been given a full report on what we found.”

“There’s no need to worry Chuuya, (Y/N) has given me a full report and I have faith that your digging tomorrow will bring more information to light.” Mori straightened himself from the endearing man they’d seen moments ago. His voice had a cold demeanor as it always had when he spoke with them, though when he spoke with her it seemed he had a similar attitude to the one he used when communicating with Elise. “I have faith in the both of you to prove your worth as executives. May you prove my assumptions right that your partnership was not in vain, then perhaps I could be persuaded to give you both a raise befitting your work.”

(Y/N)’s eyes searched up Mori, her gaze travelling from his gloved hands up to his rigid smiling face. It was clear to her that he was faking every word and gesture as if hoping to give his two closest advisors a false sense of security. His whisper still rang in her ear, ‘For now, act as if our conversation with Isaac never happened. You are, and only are, an executive of the Port Mafia.’ The message was clear with what he wanted but the intent behind it was a mystery. Had he meant it as a form of comfort to remind her that her past was not to stop her from having a future, or was it a warning to keep up the act as a perfect mafia princess and play the diplomat role, perhaps it was neither and simply a reminder that her life has only ever been that of a pawn. Any way he went about saying it, there was obvious fabrication of joy in his face.

“Thank you, sir.” Chuuya took a low bow before his boss and Kouyou offered a small courtesy. “Though I would like to speak with you about a few things when you have the time.”

Mori looked from Chuuya to (Y/N) as though he were asking her what questions she’d brought about from Chuuya, but all she did was shrug in response. He would either ask about her past and her file or he would bring up the fact that their partnership was not in the best of graces. “I truly would love to speak with you about this Chuuya, but Elise has been waiting on me for hours! Tomorrow morning I should have a bit of free time if that’s okay.”

“That will be fine, thank you sir.”

“Now, as your boss, I must request that you all get some rest. Specifically you (Y/N). I know that bad habit of yours and I’d prefer it if it didn’t interfere with your work.” Mori’s words confused the two people who didn’t know much about her habits, but she understood it well enough. He had made a jab at her constant desire to work and the way she would stay awake until the point of utter exhaustion. It was a bad habit she’d had for a long time; But it was part of the reason she got so much work done. “Please do watch your phones in case there’s an emergency, but if there is not then enjoy your time off.”

Mori stalked away from the group and in the direction of his meeting room. “Well I should be going as well, I’ve got some place to be. May you both have a goodnight.” (Y/N) wasted no time in excusing herself from the situation, wanting nothing more than to find her way to a place she’d been meaning to visit since she returned to Yokohama.

“Do you need a ride?” Chuuya was not fond of (Y/N), and that feeling went both ways, but his partner had done nothing to wrong him yet. Until she did so, he would be kind and offer her a ride. Kouyou smiled to herself but used her fan to hide it; The gesture earned a glare from Chuuya. “I don’t mind, I’ve got a stop to make before I return to my apartment anyway.”

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you for the offer Chuuya.” (Y/N) stepped into the elevator and gave a small wave before the doors began to close and seal her away from them both. “Tomorrow afternoon, don’t forget okay?”

With that she was gone.

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