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sw-33-ts-stuff · 1 year

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She Don’t Wanna Marry Me

Part 2

9 Years Old

It was a usual Saturday morning as you sat on the couch spoon full of milk and cereal as the TV blasted in the background. You didn’t care for the cartoon playing just enjoying the bright colors and haply music as it filled the empty space that was your home. You looked around at the mess of scattered bottles and takeout cartons on the floor. The messy kitchen giving you anxiety as you knew you’d be the one responsible to pick it up even if you hadn’t made the mess. Your thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell brows furrowing as your jumped down from the couch. You grabbed a chair dragging it to the peep hole tiptoeing to see who’d possibly be over at this time. It was Mrs.Day holding a casserole dish. You but your lip conflicted as you knew you shouldn’t answer the door when no one was home but you also knew Mrs.Day wasn’t just any stranger. You ran towards the nearest window before taking a deep breath to yell.

“Hey Mrs.Day!” The woman looked around before her eyes landed on you. “I’m sorry I’m not allowed to open the door for strangers.”

Lorraine’s mother chuckled to herself as she walked closer to the window.

“That’s ok sweetheart, I understand.” She paused trying to reign in her emotions. “Your moms not home is she?”

Again you bite your lip shaking your head every so slightly scared to get in trouble.

She nods sighing out harshly.

“Ok sweetie how about this I’m gonna give you this casserole through the window and I’ll leave you with my number in case you need help ok?”

It wasn’t until she reached home that her phone rang from an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Hi Mrs.Day it’s Y/N I just wanted to say thank you for the food and make sure you made it home.” She smiled.

“It’s my pleasure. Did you need help with anything?”

“No but would it be ok if I could talk to Lorraine?” It was silent for a moment then some shuffling.

“Y/N/N?”

“Hi Rainey!” Mrs.Day watched her daughters smile grow as the two of you continued to talk. Thick arms wrapped around her waist from behind, the familiar warmth and slight tickle of a mustache on the back of her neck letting her know exactly who it is.

“Hey Darlin’. Who’s on the phone with Raine?”

“Y/N.” He hummed smiling a bit.

“Shouldve known when I saw her blushing.” The two laughed watching their daughter speak into the phone, pacing as she did so.

“She’s gonna marry her someday.”

16 Years Old

You look to the bleachers again sighing when you realize your mom wasn’t coming…again. The buzzer rings out letting you know warm ups are over and tip off is about to begin. You try to shake off the sadness loosening your shoulders and bouncing in one spot.

You were brought out of your thoughts when the quarter ended. Your team was down, your coach and teammates were constantly yelling but you paid them no mind as you looked to the bleachers again.

She’s not coming.

It was halfway through the second quarter the lead the other team had continually growing. You knew if not for how small your team was and your usually outstanding performances your coach would’ve pulled you out by now. It’s when you were pushed out of bounds that you hear a yell from the crowd.

“THATS A FOUL REF!” You look to see Lorraine. Sweet, quiet Lorraine red faced and angry with her parents next to her, her mother trying to calm her and her father down. Next to them a small white sign with your name and number on it. Mrs.Day being the only calm one meets your eyes and waves. You feel a small smile make its way to your face as you get back up. With the Days cheering you on, the lead the other team had becomes nonexistent by the time the quarter ends and when the games over. It was you who not only bought the team back up but made the winning shot. The hugs from Lorraine and her father and the kisses scattered across your cheeks from Mrs.Day better than any trophy.

They offer to take you out to dinner to celebrate Lorraine next to you the whole time. The evenings full of laughter and joy.

Until it isn’t, when you get home calling for your mother you find a note on the counter nothing but the word Sorry scribbled across it.

Luckily, Lorraine’s father had wanted to come with you not only to drop you off but to commend you on your game. His analysis of your play style boosting your self esteem more and more as time went.

He watched as you dropped the paper saying nothing as you picked up the kitchen. He read the note and watched your face for any signs of distress. No tears, you were always a strong kid but even he knew that at some point life could break you.

“You alright kid?”

“Yeah Mr.Day I’m ok.” He said nothing as he went to hug you. His usual rough touch now gentle as he held you. Your shoulders shook a moment and your breathing grew heavy but you still didn’t cry.

“Get your stuff kid you’re with us from now on.” Your head on his shoulder nodded but nothing else was said between you two that night.

Not when you got in the car and watched the now empty house leave the rear view mirror.

Not when you’d showed up at the Days doorstep her mother and Lorraine laughing at something trivial until they’d seen your bags.

Not even when Lorraine snuck into your new room that night and wrapped her arms around you, a silent promise to never let go.

You belonged with them now.

19 Years Old

You winced as you threw back another shot. The fake ID you had since high-school still worked perfectly. You glanced at your phone again for the nth time. Praying a certain brunette would text you soon.

You knew she was busy abut you were hoping she wasn’t so busy that she’d forgotten.

“Here ya go sexy. This one’s on the house, happy birthday.” The blonde bartender placed the drink in front of you and winked.

You gave a small smile and nod. As you began to sip, you looked around. A lot of girls had come and sat next to you trying to flirt but every time your phone rang from another birthday text from a friend or classmate you’d drop everything in hopes it was the one girl you’d been hoping to hear from all day.

You’d lost count of the shots bought for you or the amount of suggestive comments and winks the bartender sent you.

She was cute but she wasn’t her.

She was blonde and taller.

She didn’t have a cute southern accent or endless freckles.

She had piercings and tattoos and a completely different aura to her.

Her somewhat rock chic outfit giving slight indication to who she was and what her interest may be.

It was 2 am when she’d announced last call looking directly at you.

She’d been bold all night and you’d given up on hearing from Lorraine. Her mother had texted to not stay out to late but that was hours ago and you knew the missed calls from

Mr.Day were not going to be pleasant.

You’d decided to forget it all and followed the bar tender out to her car. You tried not to think about her not being soft and warm with a scent of vanilla. She was very fit and smelled more like cherries and leather. You’d tried to block out the thought of brown eyes forcing yourself to focus more on the girls crystal blue. You cursed yourself for not thinking to ask her name but you were too far in to say anything now.

Unfortunately in the end soft brown eyes and freckles cursed your thoughts. You had to bite your tongue as you almost called out the wrong name and when morning came you left quickly and quietly. Somewhat ashamed but relived.

When you reached the Days house and opened the door on the couch was Mr. And Mrs. Day with a disappointed look on their faces.

“You could at least let us know you’d be out all night kid we were worried sick.”

You shrug still sore from last night and the hangover was not helping in the slightest.

Mrs.Day stood up when Mr.Day did.

“Don’t you have anything to say?!” She watched as her husband was slowly getting more worked up. She glanced to see you just shake your head and move to brush past him. He grabbed your arm making her grab his.

“Now look I know you’ve had a shit stick at life but it doesn’t give you an excuse to be careless and make us worry.”

“I never asked for your help.” Mrs.Day recoiled hurt angering her husband more.

“Now you watch that tone!” You scoff bitter.

“And what are you gonna do about it?”

Mr.Day stood taller as you stepped closer.

“Now maybe we should cool down a bit.” The older woman placing a hand on her husbands chest.

“No I think someone needs to remember to be grateful that we even took her in.” Mrs.Day gasped. You clenched your jaw.

“I didn’t forget but don’t worry I’ll be out by tonight. Thank you for your hospitality.”

You drive to the chop shop you were working at taking the couch where most of the guest wait. You felt your phone buzz indicating that a voicemail was left. You hit play as a familiar voice began to speak.

“Y/n I’m so so so sorry. I know there’s no excuse but happy birthday I hope you had fun with mama and daddy, I promise I’ll make it up to you somehow. I gotta go.”

21 Years Old-Night of the Dinner Announcement

You finally made it home after the announcement. You felt nothing as you stared at a blank screen. Lorraine was getting married. That was the only thing you seemed to be able to comprehend at the moment.

You looked around. Your apartment was nice, modest, it wasn’t fancy by any means but it was a roof over your head and you didn’t expect to live a life of luxury even when you were younger. A knock broke you from your thoughts and you find yourself surprised to see Mr.Day standing on the other side.

He gave a slight smile and pointed before you stepped aside to let him in. He sat on the couch patting the space next to him. You follow as your head falls to his shoulder.

“You know this parenting thing it doesn’t come with a manual.” You stiffen a bit. “That day I shouldn’t have said that. Kid I am so sorry.”

You nod still silent contemplating. “You’re not the only one apparently.”

He looked at you confused. “That day-“ you took a deep breath pulling out your phone and replaying the last voicemail Lorraine had left you.

He sighed eyes closing.

“Damn I guess we weren’t your favorite people that day huh?” You both laugh.

“I kept telling myself you’d come back that’s why I didn’t call until now. Mama kept telling me I needed to apologize, to find you and bring you home…”

He shook his head.

“Y’know we thought it would be you two getting married for real this time. We just thought Lorraine would take a while to catch up. And you still came to support her.” You just puff out a breath next to him as your eyes start to sting.

“I’m so sorry kid.” You heard a sniffle and looked at the older man in shock. You clenched your jaw to keep any tears from falling as you held him, body shaking as he continued to sob.

Even then you still didn’t cry.

Taglist: @ctrlamira @tundra1029 @friedryes @alexkolax @wol-fica @natasha25052 @pdione11 @dksjskx @the-camilucha

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #wlw post #lorraine x reader #lorraine day #lorraine day x reader #lorraine day imagine #she don’t wanna marry me #x film #lorraine day x female reader #jenna ortega imagine

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kiddbegins · 7 months

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Neighbors pt.2 - Jay Halstead

Requested: technically yes?

Word count: 1,379

Warnings: nothing really, just kinda cute

A/n: tbh i kinda just winged this

Masterlist

It had only been a few weeks since your late night run in with Jay, embarrassment still following you when you passed him.

Not that he poked fun at you. Jay halstead wasn’t that big of an asshole. People had fears and he respected that. Everyone had something they were scared of. Even people that swore they didn’t.

Even him. Though his wasn’t as simple as bugs crawling or flying around his apartment. Or even heights. It wasn’t something as normal, as mundane as that. No.

What Jay feared, was being alone. Truly alone. He’d never admit it of course, but having his team by his side always made him feel better. The late nights at Molly’s. Invitations to come and watch a movie or a game, anything.

He grasped at all of it, holding onto it like a life preserver. Especially after tough cases. When the events of the day took a toll on him in ways nobody would ever understand. All he wanted was to ignore it and have someone by him that would keep him sane.

And usually he did. Hailey was a great partner, she rarely let him go home upset, always offering a shoulder to cry on. But this case? He screwed everything up. Got too close.

Took too many risks. And now he was isolating himself. Letting his team cool off before he talked to them, knowing each and every one of them had some choice words that they wanted to say to him.

You knew something was off when he didn’t react to your parking, instead silently getting out of his passenger side, closing the door without even slamming it in annoyance. Part of you even felt bad for possibly making his night worse as he trudged his way to the building.

It felt like an alternate universe had opened up and swallowed you whole. The man had held both the front door to the building open for you and made sure you were in the elevator before pushing the close door button.

If you had been any closer, you would have asked him what was wrong. If there was anything you could do. But you weren’t. The two of you were barely acquainted with one another, enemies if anything. So instead you stood silently, back to the corner.

Once on your floor you went to your door, stopping as you watched Jay go past, a light sigh leaving your lips, “Hey,” Your voice nearly made him jump, slightly looking up with a tilt of his head.

“I don’t know what has you all moody but, if you wanna talk…” You trailed off, the man muttering a thanks before going inside, leaving you in the silence that followed.

Awkwardly, you went inside, heating up some leftover pizza before changing into some pajamas. It was a Friday which meant no work for the next two days which also meant wine and shitty movies.

At least that’s what you expected as you sat, getting almost an hour into the film you decided on and about quarter of a bottle of wine, when there was a knock on your front door.

With a confused look you stood, heading to the door and peering through the peep hole. Jay was standing on the opposite side, hands in his pockets as he stood a reasonable distance from the door.

Instantly you opened it, looking up at him. “I uh, I was hoping to take you up on that offer.” Jay muttered, partially ashamed that he caved, leaving his apartment to come talk.

But he also knew if he didn’t get all of it off his chest then he might implode. Which wouldn’t be very good. “Yeah, yeah of course,” You stepped aside, letting the clearly distraught man in. “Do you want something to drink? I’m currently downing wine but I have beer, and water or something.”

Jay shook his head, “A beers okay, if you’re sure.” He attempted to not feel like a burden to you, clearly not sure what he was allowed to do, or say or touch.

It wasn’t like he was your best friend or something.

You nodded towards the living room, handing him the bottle of beer you grabbed before moving back to the couch. He took the spot on the opposite end, sitting practically on the edge with his leg bouncing.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was soft, the instinct to comfort taking over any sort of feeling you generally had for the detective.

Jay let out a dry laugh as he shook his head, a soft sniffle following that you pretended you didn’t hear. “I would say yes but if that were true I wouldn’t have come over here. So.” He shrugged, answering the question with a non-answer.

You shifted forward, leaning to try and see his face. (Spoiler: you failed) “Is there anything I can actually do? Do you just wanna sit here? Talk about it? Ignore it?” There was no way you could not ask him those questions.

He was on your couch, solemn look on his face as he drank the beer. “My entire team is pissed at me. Not that it isn’t deserved, I screwed up our case today and it’s going to backfire on all of us. But I just,” Jay sighed heavily, “A boy almost died and I had to do what I did.”

There was a moment of silence before he looked over at you. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here I just… I hate being alone and you’re the only person that doesn’t hate hate me.” Jay shook his head.

“Well, doesn’t hate me enough to kick me out.” He corrected, chewing at the inside of his cheek. “Which you can totally do if you want to.” Jay huffed out, taking a long sip from the bottle.

You shook your head, “You obviously need someone, I wouldn’t kick you out. Not when you’re like this. You can stay here as long as you need to.” Hesitantly you put a hand on his back, feeling him tense under your touch.

“Did whatever you did at least work?” You attempted to make conversation, a small smile cracking on his face as he nodded.

“Yeah, it did. The kid’s safe. Back home with his family.” He took pride in what he did as a detective. Most, if not all, of the choices he made on the job were things he was proud to do.

Jay was good at his job, he knew what he was doing and he didn’t care what happened if it meant the people he needed to get to were safe. “Good, that’s good.” You breathed out, unsure about what to say next.

This was all uncharted territory and honestly, it was weird. One of two times Jay Halstead was in your apartment and he was nearly in tears. Not something you were used to.

A slight chuckle came from the man, pulling your attention back to him, “Are you seriously watching this movie?” He had tried to use the film you had on in the background to distract himself, laughter building up as he shook his head.

“What- it’s my night for shitty movies shut up,” You nudged his side, face scrunched up as you did. Jay held a hand up defensively, nodding as he did.

“Well you sure did pick a shitty one.”

“Yeah yeah, I bet you have great taste in movies.” You replied with a roll of the eyes, Jay sitting back against the couch, actually relaxing a bit.

As he tried to stop the laughter, he nodded again, “I definitely do.” Jay answered matter of factly, looking over at you. For the first time you noticed the slight rim of red around his eyes, like he’d been crying before he even got to yours.

It almost made you want to hug him, seeing people in pain never felt right. “Fine, here,” You tugged yourself out of your thoughts, reaching to grab the remote that was handed to him seconds later. “Put something better on.”

“I will.” Jay took the remote, flipping for a movie he liked and that’s how the rest of the night went. On your couch, watching a movie with the person you least expected.

Join Jay’s taglist here!

Tags: @everything-fandom, @mrspeacem1nusone, @wnbweasley, @alexxavicry, @halsteadbrasil, @natashamea18, @firetruckstuckley

#jay halstead #jay halstead and reader #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead one shot #jay halstead fic #jay halstead fanfic #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead writing #one chicago #chicago pd #one chicago fic #one chicago oneshot #chicago pd fic #chicago pd one shot #halstead #teddy writes #teddy writes jay halstead #teddy writes chicago pd #teddy writes one chicago

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 4 months

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DAMNN!!!! It makes me sad how Yves probably doesn’t celebrate his birthday because it probably reminds him of how old he has become 😭 But after rereading the birthday ask, I wanna do something for his birthday, like I’d honestly try to throw a little something for him, even if it’s just the two of us. How would he react to that? But then again I doubt he would tell us his birth date and would NEVER tell us the year so celebrating his birthday would probably be next to impossible. But dang I’d feel bad like being with this man a whole year and realizing like Omg I never got Yves anything for his birthday ☹️

Yves may not like to be reminded of his age, but he does love spending time with you. He knew that you would want to do something nice for him on his birthday. In that case, he would drop hints about his very special day.

Valentines Day; would be the day he chose to represent the day he was born. You would perhaps accidentally take a peep at his passport, Identity card or any seemingly valid documents that contained his alleged birthdate.

14th February, and he will be 34 this year.

He loves roses, jewellery, makeup, handbags, heels, heart-shaped novelty gifts and all things romantic. Yves is sure you would find an easier time to obtain them during heartbreak season.

You might be insecure because everything that's at least touching his standards is out of your budget. So you have to rely on creativity.

Of course, nothing is a surprise for Yves. He knows your works in progress, the trips to the photo printing store, the paper basket filled with rejected, crumpled love poem drafts, hours upon hours of perusing through the internet for cute birthday date ideas... your effort in preparing for it was already more than enough to please him.

Yves definitely loves seeing you try for him. To push past your worries and do it anyway, even if you are shaking out of fear from the thought of him being disappointed.

He would subliminally send you a message that it's not material items Yves is after; it's your company. Gifts and romantic gestures are nice bonuses, but not necessary.

But you're so adamant about doing something nice for his special day, and that warms his heart. So he lets you have your fun and healthy stresses on organizing a nice little dinner for him. Although, he will step in if you're pressuring yourself to the point of deterioration.

Comes the day of 'his' birthday, it's 12 in the morning. He's still awake in his office, typing away at his computer. Yves would appreciate it very much if you greeted him with a hug and a kiss, lightly scolding you for staying up so late but thanking you for your attentiveness nonetheless. If you live separately, you can give him a call or a text wishing him a happy birthday, and he will answer or reply immediately without fail. With some nagging that you should have adequate sleep at night. He doesn't hide the delight in his voice or face, though.

If you've been paying attention, the ideal birthday present for him is... you. Yves would very much rather pamper you instead as if it's celebrating yours, cooking up all your favorite meals, bringing you to your favorite places... but alas, it is your turn to spoil him with whatever you have in store.

You spent the last few days practicing how to cook something that you think is 'fancy' and 'expensive'. You emptied your pockets for that week but it was all worth it, you mastered making a dish that you thought Yves would like, you think. A cake you attempted to make from scratch, is obviously not made by a professional, but the love and care are evident.

Assuming you live with him, a perfect window of opportunity presents itself when Yves is suddenly extremely busy with work, so he has to hide himself in the office. You hurried to set up everything, the presents, the dining table, the candles, the food, and the plates. It was such a coincidence, that he's done as soon as you put your final touches on your dishes.

He would appear pleasantly surprised, tilting his head to the side and gracefully concealing the widest smile on his face with his manicured fingers. You can see his eyes glimmering out of joy, which in turn makes you feel proud and giddy as well. For the presentation alone, Yves is already sure to reward you handsomely.

You pulled the chair out for him, and he thanked you as Yves elegantly took a seat.

You sat down opposite of him, face and neck already covered in lipstick prints before even picking up the sleek champagne bottle. He found it adorable, you can barely afford the lower-end ones, yet you still try. He was monitoring your spending behavior and noticed that you're saving excessively for something, he is happy to know that you used it to get something luxurious for him.

His gaze never left yours as he clinked glasses with you.

Yves made sure to praise you for all your hard work, and he is exceptionally giggly today. Not because he thinks your efforts are funny, but because it's quite difficult to contain his admiration and fondness for you. And it is also because of the sight of you being decorated in his lipstick. He genuinely thinks your cooking is delicious, perhaps a tad bit too oily, salty, sweet, or burnt for his taste, or he simply didn't like that particular food. You wouldn't know, because it seems like Yves ate something that was meant for the gods. It was exquisite because it was made by you with loving intent.

Perhaps you're shy, a bit skittish, and blushing. You somehow thought writing romantic poems and reading them out loud for him to hear would be something he would be keen on. And you were absolutely correct. You could cringe at your own voice and work as much as you want, but Yves is cherishing it deeply.

He knows you would stutter when he sensually caressed you on your thigh, he did it anyway to see such a cute reaction from you. Yves would hold onto every word, listening intently and staring at you with such devotion.

Please don't take his peals of laughter at the end as mockery, it was purely out of glee and love for you, the ticklish feeling in his chest needed to escape somehow. Yves would pull you in a tight, but comforting hug, showering you with so much praise and affection, that you would think you're the world's greatest poet.

He would sit on his chair, crossing his legs, and adoringly watched you scramble to show him all your gifts. Predictably, they're all Valentine's Day-themed, rouge and hearts all around, his favorite.

You truly knew how to make him feel like a queen. Bouquets of fragrant roses, chocolates, even handmade crafts that you slaved over for him... they're all priceless and worth much more than anything in the world. He was slow and careful in unwrapping them, Yves everything, down to the strip of tape you used to keep the wrapping paper together, as intact as possible as they're going to be preserved in his compendium.

You gifted him an expensive lipstick in a shade that he would like. Such a wonderfully attentive partner you are, how could you have possibly known that he loves all things lip pigments? He must simply try it, so he did on the spot, using you as his little canvas.

Oh, he loves that hue on you. Yves made sure to test it out a couple more times, on your forehead, cheek, and lips. Yves would twist it back into its container, cap it, and keep it away before finally permitting you to leave his lap.

There's more, you scampered off into the kitchen. Leaving him alone to deal with his high for a while.

You emerged again with a crooked cake. The piping is uneven, it says "Hapy BDay Yves!!!" in crude frosting- you didn't think the spacing through, and hence it was horribly off-centered, and a singular, lit candle is stuck in the eye of the cake. It was perfection.

You watched him quizzingly as his emerald eyes began tearing up, droplets rolling down his cheek as he smiled wide. He daintily patted the tears away with his trembling fingertips, Yves was speechless and incapacitated by his extreme urge to squeeze you, his cuteness and aggression reaching debilitating levels.

He had to expel all that extra energy somehow, so he resorted to crying out of joy. Yves knew what you were about to do, he knew all that was going to happen, but he could never account for the overwhelm he would feel when you do something special like this. It's embarrassing to Yves, but he pushed that feeling aside and thought about how grateful he is to have you instead.

It would take him a couple minutes to compose himself, a handful of deep breaths before he is confident that he wouldn't bite you like a rabid dog.

You invited him to make a wish, and he did so silently, clasping his hands together and closing his eyes. Yves was so earnest and fervent that you would think he was saying a sincere prayer. Whatever he wished for, you notice there is that desperation in him for it to come true.

He cuts it with you, your back pressing against his front as he holds both your hands in his. Guiding the blade through the baked goods.

He asked if you and he could share a slice, and Yves would spoon-feed you and himself using the same utensils. It's much more intimate and romantic that way. And, maybe it would invoke some nostalgia too.

Yves is saving the best parts for you, be it the cherries, chocolate barks, sprinkles, strawberries... it's yours.

You wonder if he is having a fever because the hand that is holding your chin is unusually warm and his face is pink. He watched you with half-lidded eyes which you mistook as sleepiness and not lovesickness.

You beguiled him enough to earn yourself a night of heavenly sex. It's definitely not your first time, so you knew how fucking difficult it is to convince Yves to do that with you. And you knew how damn good he is in the bedroom.

Naturally, you're shaking in excitement as Yves gives you a nod as he sensually caresses you under your chin. Opportunities like this are rare, of course, you're frothing at the mouth thinking about what awaits you later.

He told you to unwind in the bedroom first while he cleans up. Yves didn't have to say a word more before you took off running.

Yves laughed to himself as he gathered the empty dishes, thinking about the vase he would be putting the fresh roses in.

This may not be everyone's ideal way of spending their birthday; ending the day by doing chores. But that's the way Yves likes it and he wouldn't change his mind for the world, he's stubborn in his ways and loves predictability. Taking care of you is his greatest joy in life. Which isn't all that surprising, Yves is a Taurus, after all.

#yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere concept #yandere oc #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #oc yves #yandere x you #yandere #male yandere oc x reader

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maccreadysbaby · 3 months

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A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: much angst, psychological torture???

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

geez you guys. just geez. this is so intense. this chapter, as well as asten and jasons little moment made me cry while writing them :,(

part twenty-two

❝ TOO CLOSE TO HOME ❞

TUESDAY — AUGUST 11 — 3:31PM

BENTLEY HADN’T CONSIDERED JUST HOW QUICKLY HIS DAY COULD TURN DISASTROUS.

Hey, buddy. There’s been a change of plans — I want you home after school today. I’ll explain when you get here.

That was the text Bentley got from Bruce exactly seven minutes before Spanish class ended, exactly seven minutes before he was supposed to go home with Nico, so he could make the burner calls with him and Asten.

Bruce had already said yes to Bentley’s fake science project earlier that day — a lie he felt pretty terrible about — but apparently, now, it was a no.

At first, he was terrified he’d be getting in trouble. Had Bruce found out about Dr. Keene’s phone? About the cabin? About the burners? Did he know their entire plan from beginning to end? He probably did since he was the best detective in the world, and if so, Bentley was screwed.

But it wasn’t that. It was much, much worse.

Now, twenty-five minutes after the end of school, when Bentley, Damian, and Duke walked into the Manor, it was evident that something was wrong. The entire house was silent. Not the people-in-the-distance kind of silent, but the could-hear-a-pin-drop-from-the-other-end-of-the-Manor kind of silent. Nothing in the golden entryway was out of place or messed up, but the quiet gave the place quite an eerie feeling. As far as they knew, Dick, Jason, Bruce, Alfred, and Tim were all home. But there was no noise, no anything that would imply anyone had been there in a while. Not even the dogs or Alfred the cat made a peep at the sound of the front door. And Bentley… didn’t like it. He didn’t like it so much he ran a hand through his red hair and grabbed onto the hem of Duke’s blazer with the other. Their trio of matching Gotham Academy uniforms would not make for good outfits to die in.

“Titus?” Damian called through the house, shrugging off his backpack and dropping it at the door. Bentley had barely seen the giant gray dog since Damian started getting angry — and it seemed he wouldn’t be seeing him now, either. Titus didn’t come running to Damian’s call like he usually did. Like he always did.

That freaked Bentley out even more. He was pretty sure Titus would chew his way through a wall if Damian was calling him from the other side, but now, not a thing in the Manor moved. Not a sound pierced the air.

“Duke…” Bentley muttered, his voice hardly audible. He jumped a mile when Duke’s hand landed on his shoulder, and the older boy peeled his own backpack off, laying it gently on the floor.

“Let’s go to the cave,” He whispered back, squeezing Bentley’s shoulder.

Bentley slid his bag off, too. He wasn’t exactly sure what Duke’s metahuman superpowers were — seeing the future or something — but he hoped they were online. Just in case. There was no telling what was going on, why the Manor was so quiet.

Damian and Duke started down the nearest hallway — the one with the den, library, and cave entrance through Bruce’s office. Bentley trailed along behind them, his heartbeat loud in his ears as he stepped ever-so-softly, eyes flicking here and there. The end of the hallway was dark and creepy. They weren’t ready for a fight, not in the slightest, although Damian’s fingers were twitching by his side like he was subconsciously searching for a sword. What if someone had broken in?

It felt like an eternity before Duke pushed open the door to Bruce’s office, and they all peeked inside. Everything was in order. The desk was neat, the bookshelves were organized, the lights were off, and the grandfather clock was…

Open.

The entrance to the Batcave was open.

Bentley breathed in, the familiar feeling of terror prickling at his skin. This was… so wrong. Everything was wrong. No one left the cave open. And why was it so cold in the house? Bentley only just realized that the prickling on his skin wasn’t terror alone, but also, the temperature in the Manor. It was cold like someone left the front door open for too long. Why was the cave open? Where was everybody?

“Don’t worry, Babybird,”

Bentley brought a hand up to his forehead as a voice he knew all too well rang inside of his skull, sending an echo of vertigo through his head. She was here. The Secret Keeper. She was… she was…

In the Manor.

Duke and Damian filed into Bruce’s office, and Bentley followed slowly behind. There was something at the end of the hall. Someone, standing there. He could see the silhouette in the dark. It was a girl. It wasn’t Steph. It wasn’t Cass. Her eyes were glowing an amber-gold in the darkness, and she was staring at him.

“I won’t tell your secrets,”

She smiled a twisted, stitched smile, one Bentley could hardly see that terrified him all the same.

She was right there.

Bentley shouted in terror, swerving into Bruce’s office so quickly that he whammed into Duke face-first, thumping onto the hardwood from the force.

“Bentley!”

“She’s in the hallway!” He squeaked.

Everyone was suddenly moving. Bentley was trying to scurry away from the door at the same time Duke was trying to get between him and the hall, and Damian was going for Bruce’s desk, ducking under it and re-emerging with an actual katana in his hand.

In a flash, Damian ran for the hallway, but Duke grabbed onto his arm with a shrill: “No. The light. I saw-”

“Unhand me,” Damian ordered, wrenching his forearm from Duke’s grip and jogging out of the room before he could finish.

“Damian, no!” Duke was moving to get Damian out of the hall, and Bentley was still pushing himself backwards on the floor until his back thunked against Bruce’s desk. Oh God, oh God, oh God. They were going to die.

When Bentley looked up, Damian was just standing there.

And his eyes were amber.

It was only a split second, but Bentley would probably remember it for the rest of his life — the way Damian stood there, blankly, his fiery-yet-cold greenish-blue eyes nothing more than empty, hollow as they shone the exact same amber as the Secret Keeper’s.

And then he fell, the katana clattering off to the side. Duke was close enough to catch him, just perfectly, like he knew it was about to happen. He dragged Damian back into the office and slammed the giant wooden door, locking it behind him.

“Don’t worry, Babybird. I won’t tell him your secrets,”

“C’mon, Bentley, stay close to me,” Duke ordered, hefting Damian up into his arms bridal-style. Bentley’s brain was hardly able to function with the Secret Keeper’s voice bouncing around in it, and he didn’t move. His heart was pounding and pounding and pounding in his ears and it was getting so hard to breathe.

The Secret Keeper was in the Manor. Talking to him, in the Manor.

They were going to die.

“Bentley! I need you to stay with me, little dude. Hey,” Duke crouched down, somewhat awkwardly since he was holding Damian, and his hand landed on Bentley’s shoulder. Their gazes locked, both pairs of brown eyes searching the other for a moment. One full of terror, the other soft with understanding layered over fear and determination. “I know it’s scary, but I need you to stay with me, okay?”

Bentley’s gaze fell to Damian, who was hanging limp in Duke’s arms, his eyes open but unseeing with waves of amber crawling across his irises like lightning. He was staring at Bentley, but he wasn’t seeing him. Damian looked…

Dead.

Bentley was suddenly back in that nightmare he’d had so long ago, tugging Damian’s lifeless body into his lap by his Robin suit.

“Stop it. Get up! You’re Robin, get up!”

All he could see were Damian’s lifeless eyes, staring at him but not seeing. Damian couldn’t die… he was Robin, he couldn’t die.

Bentley couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t see. Couldn’t stop crying. He was on his knees, surrounded by the corpses of the Wayne’s that his father had killed in that nightmare so long ago. Damian was looking at him but his eyes weren’t seeing. Everyone’s eyes were open but they weren’t actually seeing anything. They were dead. They were dead. They all had amber pulsing in their irises and they were all dead. His father wasn’t in the doorway anymore, it was her. It was her with her amber eyes and they were all dead.

“Shh, shh, shh… I’ve got you, babybird. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,”

They were all dead. They were all dead.

“Bentley, buddy, I've got you,”

Bentley couldn’t even think coherently enough to realize that the voice wasn't hers. He couldn’t stop seeing Damian’s amber eyes.

“I’ve got you, kiddo. Open your eyes,”

Open your eyes. That’s what he needed Damian to do — open his eyes, look at him again, not be dead. Damian couldn’t be dead, not after Bentley knew a way to fix their relationship. He couldn’t die. He couldn’t die. Robin couldn’t die.

“Bentley, can you try to open your eyes and look at me?”

Robin can’t die.

“I’ve got you, babybird. You’re safe now,”

He wasn’t safe. No one was safe anymore.

Someone was humming.

It wasn’t a song Bentley knew. He didn’t know many songs — but it was a song he might’ve heard before. He was moving. Only a little, back and forth, and something was touching him.

His thoughts began to swirl like water going down a drain, Damian’s dead, amber eyes melding with the rest of everything in his head. What was going on? And who was humming? Was something touching his hair?

He was very… aware of his own existence. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing in his fingertips, his chest, his toes, his head. He could feel the terror twisting in his stomach, the air moving a bit-too-quickly in and out of his lungs. The wetness on his face. The something warm he was up against, the fingertips moving through his hair, the gentle rocking that the something warm was doing. The faintest of vibrations he could feel that coincided with the humming he heard. The fact that his eyelids seemed glued shut and he couldn’t see anything.

Slowly, like he was trying to pull open a tomb that had been sealed eons ago, Bentley opened his eyes. He was greeted by a blur of bright. Bright everything that swirled around for a moment before it started to come into focus.

He was in the medbay, facing the door to the rest of the cave. Sitting in a chair, but not actually in a chair, because someone else was in the chair and he was on their lap. Their fingers were moving through his hair with such a familiar rhythm that he knew exactly who it was.

“Dick,” He whispered, his voice and vision impaired by tears that were still coming without his permission.

“Hey there, kiddo,”

Bentley blinked, looking at his own hands that were balled up in Dick’s blue t-shirt. “…What happened?”

“You’ve been having an anxiety attack, bud. For about twenty minutes now,”

Bentley looked up just far enough to meet the crystalline blue eyes that were so undeniably Dick’s. He had the vague intention of speaking again, but another hand landed on his head, this one from behind.

“Hey there, chum,”

Bentley breathed in and out shakily at the sound of Bruce’s voice, glancing at the room around them through his tears.

Everyone was down there. Barbara was at the Batcomputer, laser-focused on the screen. Cass and Steph were watching over her shoulder. Alfred was moving back and forth from machine to hospital bed, and Tim was in a chair just to the left of Dick’s, his leg bouncing almost impossibly fast. Duke was pacing behind them. Bruce was in a chair only a few feet to Bentley’s right, his hand still resting in his hair, right at the edge of a hospital bed.

The hospital bed had someone in it.

And so did the one next to it.

The one Bruce had taken up residence next to held Damian. He was laying eerily still, attached to several machines that were beeping and whirring. His chest was rising and falling, much to Bentley’s relief, and the heart monitor next to him was beeping at a normal pace… but he wasn’t awake. He was just… laying there. Unmoving.

Bentley startled when the person in the other bed started screaming.

His eyes landed on the violently thrashing figure of Jason Todd, his wrists, ankles, and waist restrained to the hospital bed by thick leather straps Bentley didn’t even know they had. His eyes were closed, but he was throwing his weight around so forcefully that the whole bed was clacking and moving when he did. He was absolutely drenched in sweat, his entire gray t-shirt stained a darker shade, his hair wet and floppy and very unusual looking. He was breathing so hard and fast it rivaled Nico’s asthma, his expression constantly twisting between pain, rage, despair, and agony, over and over and over.

Bentley gasped lightly, turning his head back toward Dick when the burning in his eyes threatened to double. Bruce’s hand left his head, and Bentley thought he might’ve heard him stand. “What… what happened? To Jason?”

Dick sighed lightly, gently pressing Bentley’s head against his shoulder as he carded his fingers through his hair. “Secret Keeper got him the same way she got me.”

Bentley sniffled lightly, glancing over just far enough to look back at Damian, laying so stiff it looked like a funeral. Bruce was standing between the beds now, and seemed to be talking to Jason, who was calming. “…And Damian?”

Dick breathed in. “Yeah. Dami, too.”

They fell silent when another round of screaming and bed clacking came from Jason. Dick didn’t do that when he was unconscious, so what was Jason seeing? Bentley must’ve recoiled at the noise, because Dick kissed his hair. “It’s okay, babybird. He’ll be okay.”

Dick didn’t sound entirely too convinced.

Bentley just stayed there for a while, fighting the urge to cry and keeping his face hidden every time Jason started screaming again. Bruce had moved his chair in the middle of the two beds. Bentley wasn’t sure when.

“She was… the Secret Keeper, she was upstairs,” Bentley muttered after a while. “She was here.”

Dick hadn’t ceased petting his hair. “It’s okay. Bruce and Cass cleared the Manor after you guys came down. Wherever she is, it’s not here.”

But the Manor is huge, he wanted to argue, but he didn’t exactly feel like arguing. Everything felt like a battle. Why was it so hard to just live? He’d been at school less than an hour ago, finishing off a more-or-less normal day of classes, and now? Now a raging supervillain had broken into the Manor, terror-coma-fied two of the closest things he had to brothers, and Bentley just had to have another anxiety attack about it. Why couldn’t he just have a normal life? Was that so hard?

He started crying.

“Why is this happening to us?” He managed between his quiet cries, bringing his sleeves up to scrub at his eyes. “I just… I can’t… I just want to live with you.”

That statement seemed to take hold of Dick for a moment, because at least five seconds of silence passed before he replied: “I know. I know you do, kiddo. It’ll all be over soon.”

Something like rage bubbled up in Bentley’s chest in place of his hopelessness, though the tears kept coming. “That’s what everyone keeps saying, but it’s a lie! It’s not getting better, it’s not ending, it’s just getting worse!”

Jason started screaming again, fueling Bentley’s tears until he was well and truly sobbing into Dick’s blue t-shirt.

Screw life.

Dick tried a quiet: “It’ll be okay.”

“Stop saying that,” Bentley choked, somewhat venomous but mostly pitiful.

“I love you,” Was what Dick resigned to, just like when he didn’t know what to say to Tim at the end of their conversation.

Go away, Tim had said.

“I love you, too,” Bentley half-whispered. “But I hate everything else.”

Jason calmed, and the timer until he started screaming again began to tick. Dick kept on stroking Bentley’s hair while he cried for everything he hadn’t cried about yet. Part of him wished they weren’t superheroes. That his father had just wanted to destroy Bruce for being Bruce, that Bentley had gotten shoved into a normal family with a normal life. Everything else was exhausting. Draining. Maybe they wouldn’t be targeted so badly if they were just a family of civilians.

Jason started screaming, again. He started his ultra-violent thrashing, too, shimmying the hospital bed across the floor of the medbay with clacks and scrapes of metal on concrete.

Tim abruptly stood from his spot beside Dick, looking rather sick. “I’m gonna go upstairs.”

It didn’t take a detective to realize that he looked like he might pass out. His skin was pasty, and his eyes were dull and sunken. He also looked kind of… green.

“It… it would probably be best for all of us to stay down here together, Timmy,” Dick tried, but Tim didn’t listen, making his way out of the medbay and into the rest of the cave.

For the second time that day, Bentley watched one of his brothers hit the floor. Except no one was there to catch Tim when he went down.

Everyone seemed to move. Duke, Cass, And Steph all flinched in Tim’s direction, although none of them were close enough to actually catch him. Even Dick jostled Bentley around in his lap by nearly shooting out of the chair. Bruce stood quickly, holding a hand out toward Dick, rushing to Tim’s side.

Bentley clung ever-tighter to Dick as the tears came doubly as hard, listening to Bruce fuss over getting Tim in a third hospital bed, flinching at Jason’s screams, and watching Damian’s hands ball up and relax over and over against the sheets. The stress of everything seemed to build in his head, tighter and tighter and tighter until…

The world faded away.

—

When Bentley woke up, he was on a cot, on the floor of the medbay. There was a scratchy hospital-like blanket thrown over him, and a quick glance around revealed that Dick had nodded off in the chair they’d been sitting in. His arms were crossed over his chest and his head was down, his black hair hanging over his forehead, blue eyes hidden from sight. Alfred was on the farthest end of the medbay, running tests, it seemed.

Duke, Steph, Cass, and Barbara were out near the batcomputer, taking up residence on the floor. (And in a wheelchair.) Barbara and Duke were speaking quietly, And Steph looked to be asleep, her head pillowed on Cass’s lap. There was a map of Gotham on the Batcomputer behind them, red dots flashing near the docks of Gotham Harbor. Did that mean the burner calls had worked?

And now three beds had a Wayne in them. Closest to Bentley laid Damian, stiff with still curling and uncurling fists. Then came Jason, who wasn’t screaming, but was still writhing around on the bed like he was covered in ants. In the third bed came the small, fragile looking Tim, who was unconscious and still. He was hooked up to a lot more stuff than the other two.

And sitting right in the midst of all the beds, like he couldn’t make up his mind, was Bruce.

He was on the edge of his chair, his elbows resting on his knees, eyes trained on the floor below his feet. Bentley was sure he’d never seen him looking so… lost. He was fiddling with a ring that sat around one of his fingers, spinning it over and over to the rhythm of Damian’s heart monitor.

Bentley’s hurt for him. For everyone. For the whole world, at this point. What was Bruce supposed to do, watching three of his kids suffer like that?

Bentley pushed himself off of the little flat cot and onto his feet, earning him a little glance from Bruce. Neither of them spoke as the child padded across the room, stopping only when he made it to the man’s chair.

“I’m cold,” Was what he said, eyes flicking down to his feet. He actually meant I want to try and make you feel better with a little hint of please hold me, life sucks. He prepared himself for a rejection and walk of shame back to the cot — that’s what his father would’ve done.

Bruce leaned back and scanned Bentley with his gray-blue eyes, opening his arms up.

“So am I,”

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @cademygod

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jaredthebc · 6 months

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Okay y’all, it took me awhile to admit this but I’m jobless again (details private) and am going to promote my KoFi more often again as a source of income while I job hunt again. There is no emergency and I will still have access to necessities, but Christmas is taking a chunk out of me along with upcoming surgeries in my family circle that I would feel more comfortable knowing I’d have money in case anything comes up bill wise. I have commissions open as well as allowing KoFi’s at 5 dollars each (USD)

Please don’t feel obligated to buy/support me monetarily, again there is no emergency and I don’t wanna guilt trip peeps at all, just a reblog would do greatly for me!

#Kofi #kofi commission #commissions open #comms open #bc art

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dellalyra · 11 months

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ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ {.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.}𝘬𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦

𓆩♡𓆪 A/N: this was such a fun submission and my first time writing for Kakashi so I hope it's okay!! As always, check out the masterlist for more and if you're under 18 - buzz off, you're responsible for your own media consumption and this is a mature content blog. Ily all <3

𓆩♡𓆪 Summary: A case of mistaken identity at the spring leads to some fortunate revelations.

𓆩♡𓆪CW: Smut, smut, lots of it, just lots of sex, sexy jutsu, cursing, fem!reader, mentions of weapons.

The water soothed your aching joints in seconds, dry skin – sunburn and all – floating away with the soft ripples of the water. You could hear the soft trickle of taps and the sounds of a nearby nightingale. The warm, early summer air brushed against your skin. All alone in the hot spring, you finally felt calm. You last mission in the Hidden Sand had really taken it out of you, the summer heat, the nightmare opponents you faced and the seemingly endless stream of missions you’d been on had really taken its toll, but now, you had a whole month off. Tsunade insisted every six months, a Jonin got a month off, and 2 weeks every 3 months for ANBU members. As you begin to plan all the things you want to do for the next month (sleep, mainly) you rise from the water, steaming tendrils following your skin. You’re alone, so you don’t need a towel right now and the balmy air feels incredible on your bare skin. You loose your hair from its clip-on top of your head and let it tumble down your back as you rake your hands over your scalp.

As you bend over to reach for your towel, a metallic ‘whizz’ swishes past your ear and clatters on the wall. Turning to the collision point, your heart stops. The discarded Kunai was lodged in the plaster of the wall.

Just one night.

That’s all you wanted.

And preferably to not have to fight anyone nude.

“Alright, who’s there? If you’re gonna fight me then c’mon, I wanna get home.” You say into the night.

“Oh shit.” You hear coming from behind the door. Wait, you know that low timbre.

“Kakashi?” You ask, now wrapping your soft towel around your bare figure.

“Wait? Y/N?” The voice replies, and out comes the suspect – hand covering his one exposed eye.

“Mind telling me why you’re tossing kunai at me at 2am in the hot spring?” You say, sitting on a nearby rock.

“Not really.”

“We’ll, you’re gonna.”

“I – uh – shit.” The visible tips of his ears were bright red.

“Wait – were you spying on me? What the fuck Hatake?” He must have seen everything if he threw that kunai at you.

“Jesus, no! Who do you think I am – Jiraiya?!” Everyone knew of the Sanin’s ‘bathhouse visits.

“You got a lot of explaining to do then!”

“Or – how about we forget this ever happened?”

“No.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

You noticed he was crouched funny on the tree branch he had perched on, head facing down, and he kept adjusting his mask.

“I was coming for a bath because nobody comes out here this late, so I can take off my mask. Then, I – saw there was someone there and thought…” He knew he had to tell you the truth, he didn’t want the girl he’d been in love with since he was 12 to think that all the Icha-Icha had turned him into a peeping Tom.

“Thought what? That maybe some late-night attempted murder would be fun?!”

“No!”

“Then what!”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you!”

“Then why did you throw a kunai at my damn head!”

“I thought you Naruto was here!”

“You thought I was NARUTO?!”

“Shit, Y/N, I thought you were his Sexy Jutsu!”

You pause. Stomach dropped.

Kakashi looked as if he’d die.

“Wait? What?”

“You heard me.”

“Get down here.”

If he thought you, in all your naked glory, had been Naruto’s jutsu – such an embodiment of beauty that it rendered enemies bleeding – oh my god. The head tilt, the mask.

He had a nosebleed.

Kakashi thought that you were so sexy, that you couldn’t be real.

The man – who you had been in love with since you were 11 – got a nosebleed from seeing you naked.

He dropped down from the branch, silent as a panther.

He had his head tilted to look at the sky and honestly, you were surprised this man hadn’t disappeared into a puff of smoke. He was pretty awkward, had been his whole life. Like a stray cat, you always thought.

You took a step closer.

It’s now or never.

The confidence you felt seeping through your very blood was something you’d never felt before. You felt electric. The Copy Ninja, Son of the White Fang, Master of a Thousand Jutsu’s, Chidori creator – had been rendered essentially useless and a puddle of a man all because of your bare skin.

The thought of him feeling so enamoured by you sent pure blazing heat between your thighs.

You wanted him.

You wanted him to ruin you.

You stepped closer.

“You mean that, ‘Kashi?” You ask, voice low and airy with want and awe.

He just stares into your eyes, his pupils taking in your lust-blown ones.

You wanted him.

He was going to ruin you.

“I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He says, fingers dipping to hook under your chin and tilt your face to look up at him.

Only in this proximity did you realise the sheer difference between you, he dwarfed you. His broad shoulders engulfing you in shadow, moonlight draping across his silver hair like silk.

“You know… you should probably make sure I am real.” You bat your lashes at him.

“And how would I do that?”

“Touch me.”

With that, he wraps one arm around your waist and weaves his fingers through the hair at the back of your head, pulling you in flush with his solid body.

You could already feel him, even through his tac trousers, his whole body – hot and hard.

“Say it again.” He almost growls, and you almost fall apart on the spot.

“Touch me, ‘Kashi. Please.”

“Fuck, sweetheart - you’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that” He mumbles, lithe fingers tracing your curves.

“Then stop fucking around. I thought you were a man of action?” You tease.

“Oh, I’m planning on fucking around a lot more.” He smirks, the curve of his lips visible through the mask. He spots your eyes flitting down to his lips and he hooks a finger into his mask.

13 years of friendship and you had only seen him without his mask once, and that time, he was covered in blood as you attempted to heal him.

But fuck, was it worth the wait.

He barely gave you a second to think and admire, before his still-smirking lips came crashing onto yours. He tasted like heaven, the salt of sweat and something sweeter making you whimper into his mouth. His scent too, it’s encasing you completely – salty, fresh soap, and something woodsy that you don’t have the attention span to pinpoint right now.

You tangle your fingers into the thick mass of soft hair on his pretty head and tugged slightly, eliciting a pained groan from the man who immediately hoisted you by the thighs onto his waist, and you feel yourself being pushed up against a tree. From this angle, you could already feel his stiff length against the plush of your ass as he ground his hips into you, making you gasp – an opportunity he grasped to slide his tongue into the cavern of your mouth. Experimentally, you circle your hips to feel him again and he pulls his mouth from yours.

“This feels like every wet dream I had as a teenager.” He smirks, reattaching his lips to your neck, breathing heavy and ragged with restraint to not just rip your towel off and plunge himself into you then and there.

“Who was the star of those dreams?” You giggle, genuinely curious as to who he fantasised over when you were sitting with him as your teenage dream.

“Who do you think, dumbass?”

“Tsunade-sama?” The most beautiful woman in the village back then had to be the obvious choice.

But you must have guessed wrong, for he sank his teeth into the silky skin of your neck in protest before pulling away, keeping one hand under your thighs, and bringing the other up to cup your cheek.

“Idiot.”

“Rude.”

“You. Y/N. It’s always been you.”

You kiss him this time. Softer, sweeter than the last.

“You’ve been the star of all my dreams, since we were kids.” You whisper into his lips.

He reattaches his lips to yours, your teeth lightly pulling on his lower lip which makes him lift you from the tree and carry you to the patch of mossy earth beside the spring. It feels like a cloud on your back, and ask he adjusts himself over you, you take the chance to pop the fastening of your towel, letting it flutter to the ground beneath you and exposing yourself to him – with full awareness this time.

“As good up close, Hatake?” You smirk at him as his hands form fists by his side – jaw clenched.

“So much fucking better.” He says as he dives back into your neck.

You let yourself indulge in the feeling of his heated lips and tongue leaving marks over your skin, that will no doubt be as purple as grapes by tomorrow, his teeth leaving bite marks that he may as well just spell out ‘Property of Kakashi Hatake” on your forehead and be done with it. You realise he’s mumbling, and you listen to his words.

mine mine mine mine mine was the chorus being sung into your skin and you pull his face up to look at you.

“Yours.”

You tug on the bottom hem of his vest and shirt, desperate to have him as bare as you to which he eagerly obliges – unclipping the fastenings of the vest in what must be record speed – oh what those hands could do, you often thought to yourself watching him make hand signs or twirl his kunai around his fingers – leaving you frustrated and hot under the collar as you fought alongside him in countless missions, always relieving the pent up tension with your own measly fingers when you returned home – they did the job, but you just knew he would work pure magic on your body with his.

But soon enough, all thoughts leave your mind because before you – no hitai-ate, no mask, no vest, no shirt was Kakashi. Muscled thighs spread, kneeling over your thighs and looking down at him. Eyes as dark as the night sky itself, pale skin scattered with shiny scars – some of which you stitched up yourself – and his hair glowing in the light of the moon that was acting as a backdrop.

“Fuck, ‘Kashi. You’re fucking… beautiful.” You softly sigh. You think you’ve never seen a person so stunning, corded muscles of his arms showcasing the pure agile strength of him, chest heaving and glittering with a slight sheen of sweat and defined, chiselled abs leading to a strong Adonis belt decorated with a trail of darker grey hair leading down, down, down…

You could see him straining against the fabric of his pants, obviously painfully hard as he hissed when you so much as brushed a finger against the zipper of them. You look up at him through your eyelashes and the sight takes his breath away.

You lay beneath him, hair splayed out like a fallen angels, contrasting against the mossy floor beneath you. Sparkling eyes reflecting the starlight gazing wide eyed at him through your fluttering lashes rendered him speechless. The cute curve of your nose, leading to those delicious kiss-swollen lips. The slope of your neck and the smell of you – God the smell. Roses and cherries and something deeper, something that was just you. Your scent drove him wild as he had been kissing your neck, leading him to create the litany of marks he was now admiring. These were all things he’d seen before, admired before, loved before. But now, you had allowed him to venture further, to see the parts of you that he would imagine reading his novels. The girl in the stories was always you – since he first picked it up. All of his dreams, day and night, and his imagination when his own calloused palm and fingers were wrapped around his flushed cock in his bed at night – they were all you. Spread beneath him, beside him, on top of him. Some days, especially in summer – training had been torture with you. Your skin slick with sweat, droplets dripping between your breast – your shorts or skirt riding higher and higher as the heat grew more stifling. There had been many days he had felt his pants tighten and had to come up with an excuse to vanish from the training grounds to somewhere private.

Yet, none of that – not one imagined image – could compare to what was lain before him now.

Chest heaving, the slope of your waist leading to the wider curve of your hips, he was desperate to see your ass, he’d always been an ass man and he was convinced yours was the best around, he’d never tell that he’d heard other ANBU members talking about how much they loved your ass in your uniform one time and it had infuriated him so much that he had them on extra training for a month – thighs so strong and beautiful that he wanted them wrapped around his head so many times and the soft, squishy mound between them. Fuck, he wanted to taste you.

“Sweetheart, you’ve no idea what you do to me.” He says, voice strained.

“I’ve a rough idea, probably the same as what you do to me.” You smirk, taking his hand and guiding it to where you can already feel your sopping folds.

A soft ‘fuckkkk’ was groaned when he felt how soaked you were, and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

With the speed only he could have, he is suddenly on his knees, strong body separating your thighs so he can look at your most intimate places. You squirm under his gaze, charcoal eyes so intense you feel like he can see right through you. Before you can think, he’s licking a long, sloppy stripe from your dripping hole to the precious little pearl above. You can’t hold back the moan that escapes you at the feeling of his mouth – until he does it again. This time, with more precision, a look on his face of pure determination and concentration, he was now lapping at your slick like you were an oasis in the desert. The fiery heat in your stomach intensified to a scorching level when he brought up his pretty pink lips to wrap around your little nub and gently suckle, your thighs clenching around his head and hands tugging at the roots of his hair at this new action – oh, he found what you liked. You were so focused on the feel of his mouth and the coil in your belly tightening that you don’t register the finger circling your entrance until it’s dipping into you, and you gasp, back arching at the delight of this foreign intrusion. You mewl as he adds another and curls them inside you, searching for that sweet spot. He knows he’s found it when you mewl into the night, and you can feel him smirk against you. Fuck, you were right. Those hands – magical.

“Jesus, ‘Kashi. I’m so ah – so close, fuck.” Your voice is almost unrecognisable, breathy and heavy simultaneously.

He groans into you.

“Good girl, cum for me sweetheart. Let me taste you.” He says, only detaching his mouth long enough for the words to come out. He snakes his free hand up to pinch and tug at your nipple and you’re sent careening over the edge – body tensing and arching off the ground into his face and body as waves and waves of heat and pressure release from your wound-up body. He slowly lets you ride out your high on his fingers and mouth before pulling away and dropping a kiss just below your navel.

“Need you, ‘Kashi. Please.” You mumble, already slurring your words and so, so desperate to be filled.

“You are sure, sweetheart?” He asks, swiping a thumb across your lower lip. You nod, then wrap your lips around his finger and reach out the undo the fastening of his trousers. You pull his pants and boxers down in one swoop and you think you’ve died and gone to heaven – is this real? Is this man real? Surely not.

A pretty, pale pink, uncut cock slaps up against his stomach - easily the largest you’ve seen, about 8 inches and thick enough that you think you’re going to need both hands to handle it, because one surely won’t do. The flush tip is dripping with shiny droplets of precum, spreading across his very-lickable abs.

You can’t help it – the whimper comes out of your mouth as you lean forward in hopes of catching him in your mouth. A hand grips your hair just as you slide your tongue out pas your lips.

“Sweetheart – as much as I want to see those pretty lips around my cock – I gotta feel you now. I have to be inside you.” He mutters.

“Please, ‘Kashi – just a little taste.” You bargain with him, eyes wide and pleading.

He might just cum on the spot.

He can’t deny that pretty request so he relinquishes his hold on your hair and you dart forward, soft, warm, wet tongue licking a languid stripe up the midnight blue vein on the underside of his cock and he reaches an arm, pinching his wrist to make sure this isn’t a dream. When he felt the pinch, he realised this was really happening, you were real and here and so was he. All those years of pining and dreaming were coming to fruition.

He lets you continue for a few more licks before he grips your hips and lays you on your back, large hands spayed across the flesh and digging squeezing tightly.

He leans down, locking lips with you once more as he grinds himself into your warmth, hissing in unison with his tip catching on you clenching hole.

Thank fuck for your contraception is all you can think.

He adjusts himself and even your own arousal and post orgasmic bliss didn’t prepare you for the initial tip as he slowly slides the mushroom tip of his cock into you, the burn didn’t last for long however, pain making way for pleasure as in one swift thrust, he sheathes the rest of himself into you – walls so wet and warm he thinks he might stay like this forever. He gives you a second to adjust before he feels you start to squirm under him, experimentally rolling his hips to meet yours and the noises you both let out could have been a symphony – the feeling of being wrapped up, tangled together was otherworldly. His thrusts grew deeper and deeper as he once again latched his teeth onto your throat. You could feel him holding back, and that simply wouldn’t do.

“Ah – ‘Kashi, fuck – ruin me, don’t hold back – please.” You say, intentionally squeezing around his cock.

“Say please.” His gruff voice calls into your ear.

“Kashi, just – fuck, faster.”

“Say. Please.” Each word was punctuated by a brutal thrust and a sinful smirk.

“Please, Kakashi. Please – ruin me.”

With that he lifted your shaking legs so your knees rested on his toned shoulders, ANBU tattoo contrasting his pale skin. He noticed yours simultaneously, pressing a kiss to it.

The moment of tenderness was quickly shattered when he gripped your waist with a pressure that would definitely result in bruises and begin to drive his cock into you at an unforgiving pace. The air knocked from your lungs; you could feel the winding spring beginning to tighten in your belly once again.

“Pretty cunt squeezing me like fuckin’ vice. As if you weren’t tight enough already.” He growls as he feels your orgasm approaching and his words have you coming undone around him, soaking his cock.

His hips stutter as your gummy walls flutter around him and he’s seconds away from reaching his own Euphoria.

“Where can I cum, sweetheart?” He whines, and the Copy Ninja of Honoha whimpers at your reply.

“Inside. Please, inside, make me yours.” You reply, tugging on his hair at the nape of his neck.

With this, his hips still as his balls contract and he empties himself inside of you, warmth flooding your sense and body milking him for all he’s got. You both sit there to catch your breaths for a second, basking in the afterglow.

Then, you start to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, sliding to lay beside you, arm wrapping around your waist.

“I can’t believe you actually thought I was Naruto’s sexy Jutsu, and that your first reaction was to throw a weapon at it.” Your giggles overtook you as you remembered the events that lead to this moment.

He groans in response.

“Never living that down, am I?” A sly smile illustrates he’s not actually that upset about it.

“Not as long as I’m around.” You reply, lacing your fingers with his and lifting your gaze to meet his steely one.

“And how long will that be, sweetheart?” He says, stroking a thumb over your cheekbone.

“Forever, if you’ll have me?” You softly smile in response, leaning into his hand.

“Of course, I will – been yours since the day you slapped Obito for saying dolls were silly when we were 10.” He laughs at the memory, and you giggle at the image of a shocked Obito who decided then and there that he was your friend, a snickering young Kakashi standing nearby.

You’re both silent for a second.

“I love you, ‘Kashi.” You whisper.

“I love you too.”

The nightingale’s song provided the soundtrack for the long-awaited confession between the two of you, a sound which would forever be imprinted for the rest of your lives together as what marked the start of your relationship.

You untangle yourself from him, standing up and the starlight highlights the dribbles of his essence crawling down your inner thighs.

“Wanna join me in the spring? Seems I need to bathe again.” You smirk, hips swinging and eyes glancing over your shoulder as you make your way to the water.

“Y/N, the day I say no to that, kill me because I’ve surely gone mad.” He says and swipes you over his shoulder like a rag doll and slaps a large around across the fat of your ass.

#kakashi hakate #kakashi smut #kakashi x you #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi x reader #Naruto fics

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wifeylyney · 27 days

Text

I got a few ideas I wanted to do to feel more connected to Lyney

And also, I want other selfshippers/yume/ocxcanon peeps to see just in case they want to be close to their f/o

1. Heart-shaped locket and bracelet ♥️

I wanna have something I can bring with me daily if I'm going out anywhere

2. Custom phone case

Luckily, I saw some on Etsy that I can get since it's hard to find a place where I can get a good phone that isn't a iPhone or an Samsung

3. An Ita bag

I know a few have one. Plushshop, where I got my plushie from, has a Lyney ita bag and I am hoping to get my hands on it. Also need to get more pins too

4. Art Commissions

By the way, if you guys know any artists who do selfship art in their commissions, let me know!

5. Random but, get a top hat or even a magic wand just to add to my collection

For example, if your f/o likes cooking, maybe you can get something just to add to it.

6. Cosplay

I think dressing up as your f/o would be so much fun, even if you are not going anywhere! I still wanna do it.

7. Official license merchandise

I'm so glad that there are a few places I can get the official Lyney merch bc people on amiami SWIPE them. Not that is a problem but sadly there are no more preorders open. And I promise myself to get them soon (they should make a huge Rosseland plushie. Great, now I want one)

8. Dakimakura/body pillow

I saw it on Etsy and guaranteed I'm getting one. No more questions.

I might add more later but I ran out of ideas so... I will come to edit once I have more Ideas ♡

#to do list #f/o #lyney #genshin impact #self ship #genshin lyney #self shipping #genshin impact lyney #self ship community

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luffyvace · 2 months

Note

hiii can i request romantic hairo x male reader hcs about how they celebrate their birthdays with each other?

Yes you may <3

Hairo Hairo Ba Bairo banana fana fa Fairo me mi mo Mairo HARIOO

if ykyk 😭

your big day

He spends a lot of time planning everything out but he doesn’t stress over it. He’s preparing months in advance because he’s just responsible like that and wants to make sure he’ll have enough time to reroute in case something goes wrong. He works out the details himself but asks his classmates/friends and parents for advice/ideas.

he invites pretty much anyone he knows you don’t have beef with (😜) and more. Anyone willing to come really, he thinks it’s sweet they’re sharing they’re support (which it is :3 💕)

his parents are 100% there and luckily for him he has the ‘cool’ parents that no one thinks is cringe. 😭💓 In fact they helped pay for a lot of things along with your parents and they entrusted Hairo to plan a lot of things out. He’s a trustworthy guy and you might’ve told him what you want already in the past so why not? 🤷‍♀️

what he does for your big day truly depends on what type of person you are and I say that in like every hcs ever but it’s true. Different peeps want different things!

anywho 😚

your gift possibilities also range depending on what what you like. An artist? Art supplies! Like to skateboard? He has one custom made! Are ya a foodie? Get dressed your heading to a buffet!

An out or inside event relies on what you prefer! An introvert? Likely inside! (If your an introvert who’s mentioned wanting to step outside your comfort zone, it’ll be a peaceful place outdoors!) oh your an ambivert? An indoor party! How about an extrovert?? Let’s turn up at the water park y’all!! 🤪🤪

Or maybe if you wanna keep it in one of your houses?- your house or his? Whichever one makes you more comfy <3

Actually now that I think about it a party bus would be another fun thing to do for introvert/ambivert OR extrovert!

his big day

you probably plan it with your friends

And yes you invite the sports clubs (yes all sports clubs 😭)

it’s definitely outside doing some sort of exercise(or in da gym ;3). Whether that’s fun for you or not depends on if you like exercise or not. And if it’s the type where your running around or purely a hardcore workout 🏋️‍♂️

The expenses wasn’t all that costly because of this, you could literally just all go to the gym and hype him up and it would bring tears to his eyes. Your support means so much to him, he could work out the entire day nonstop as long as he continuously hears the chants of encouragement from his loved ones 💝

he doesn’t expect gifts so when you surprise him with the heaviest weights you can find to help motivate him (😭🤷‍♀️💗), he literally sheds tears of happiness. Don’t get me wrong- people do gift him—he just didn’t expect anything because he’s not a materialistic guy!

your all tired but very happy at the end, whether it’s because your throats are sore from encouraging or your legs are tired from running. Either way it was a fun and eventful day, and I will say, Hairo certainly enjoyed it ♡

Hope y’all don’t mind this longer style of writing. I’m trying to give more hcs if that makes sense. I’ll probably teeter back and forth depending on how silly or serious the hcs are or just how much I feel like writing in general but idk.

🍎🍊🍒

(I like fruit)

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solunest · 1 year

Text

"...and create in me a heavenly body."

I finally made semi-fledged character designs for the main peeps of 'The Heavenly Body' Case File in Question! It's the finished version of the doodle and aaaa

I also wanna talk a bit about the characters and stuff before I finish up Chapter 4 of this fanfic, since it's coming to a close. Aaaaaand to perhaps drop some hints about what could possibly come, for those of y'all wanting to guess how this goes down.

Word vomit, so aaaaa, under the cut-

[Eclipse, the Honored Police Chief] The evidently socially awkward prototype animatronic who towers around 9'5" tall, struggles to get through some doorways and some conversations, specifically from a detective that he accidentally managed to befriend three years ago. He's an auto-repurposed celestial animatronic that earned a spot in the police force when he was paving a new way of life for himself and his family. While some things didn't happen the way he wanted it to, he intends to spend the rest of his life atoning for all the poor decisions he's made.

[Sun, the Sadistic Mafia Boss] The flamboyant and childish-facading celestial animatronic, standing about 8~ foot tall, loves teasing and talking down condescendingly about people. Was a former childcare animatronic, along with his family, until an incident happened where his family had to survive on the streets. One day, it was just him and his younger brother and he now bears a seething hatred for the naturally exalted humans who once called his kind a sort of slave. He plans to take over the city that forsaken them, not letting anything, human or animatronic, stop him.

[Moon, the Sinister Mafia Boss] The more level-headed, but torture-happy celestial animatronic, around the same height as his second brother. Is the youngest of his family, however, bears the aura of someone with high authority. Swore to protect his remaining brother with his life, while also keeping him in check. Though, he also needs to let his tendencies out every now and then, letting them loose on those who have wronged them. Is convinced that what they're doing is correct.

[Y/N, the Mysterious Rookie Detective] A detective who magically appeared in the force one day and was hired due to the incompetence of the other officers. Was a diligent worker who got things done on time, so they were favored to stay. Doesn't speak much, and if they do, they're short, clipped sentences with a blank face and vague gestures. Humans and animatronics alike cannot detect them approaching for some reason, and their isolated self allows plenty of rumors to swirl about them. They bear two guns that they never seem to remove. Gained an odd friendship with their police chief and the attention of two unruly celestial animatronics.

Eclipse's Thoughts on the Others Sun; What he thinks of me is my own fault. I miss him. Moon; The hope I have with him shouldn't be fed. I miss him. Y/N; I should only look at them as a friend or a close confidant.

Sun's Thoughts on the Others Eclipse; Betrayal. How dare he. You don't deserve to live. Moon; The only one I have left. Please don't leave me. Y/N; You're just like me, I know it. Stay away from him.

Moon's Thoughts on the Others Eclipse; Why? I know you'll never answer, but it plagues my mind. Sun; I'm watching my brother fall apart before my very eyes. Y/N; How can I not sense you? Where's the light in your eyes?

Y/N's Thoughts on the Others Eclipse; He's changing. My body reacts to him. I've yet to know why. Sun; Annoying. Dances around the subject too much. Moon; Annoying. Underestimates not even in a smart way.

Other notable characters; Mayor Freddy Fazbear; The city mayor, kind and loving, advocator of the union of animatronics and humans. Foxy; An old friend of Freddy and a good acquaintance of yours. Gregory Fazbear; The adopted son of the mayor with a dire secret. Knows answers that you will need that you may never think to look. Michael Afton; The Afton mafia boss, trying to solve a mystery and assert his dominance where he doesn't need. Music Man; Eyes and ears of the city that only helps those who've intrigued him. Never sticks to one side.

Iiiiiiif you have any questions and the like, don't hesitate to shoot em my direction!

ALSO. IF YOU DO NOT LIKE ANGST, I HIGHLY SUGGEST TO LEAVE WHILE YOU STILL CAN.

I have a fluffy fic coming soon after this one, but for now, if you can't handle crushin feels, this fic ain't for you, chief-

#'The Heavenly Body' Case File in Question AU #fnaf sb #fnaf eclipse #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #mafia au #Mafia Boss!Sun #Mafia Boss!Moon #Police Chief!Eclipse #Detective!Y/N #this story is about to end and I am sO EXCITED

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ts4eve · 2 years

Text

You don't have to sue me to get my pants off, EA.

Hi lovelies. Well, EA have gone and done it. They’ve somehow made their TOU even more vague when it comes to Patreon, early access, and adult content, so congrats to them.

In case you’ve been left out of the loop, here’s Missme’s post about the change.

Now, EA have stated that all CC must be free in full and that mod developers can only recoup costs of time and effort via passive advertisements and donations.

No early access paywalls and especially no perma paywalls.

So, what does that mean? Well unless EA clarifies further regarding early access in the next couple of weeks (which they might do if they are bombarded with TOU breaking reports), it means that anything anyone makes for TS4 is free. Immediately. Forever. No paywalls, no early access. Creators can only monetarily gain via passive advertisements (which, let’s face it, are only a thing on TSR) and donations.

SOOOOO, where does that leave me? Well, I sure as hell don’t wanna be sued. The fact that EA have suddenly sprung this on us all makes me wonder if they are preparing to start a community-wide take down of anyone violating their TOU. For the perma-paywallers, this is well deserved. But for the early access peeps, this kinda sucks.

So, guys, that means that I’m going to have to shake things up over on Patreon. I hope EA will be nice enough to give everyone a month or so leeway so we can unlock and prep files for release without getting into hot water.

Here are the changes:

No early access. Everything I upload to Patreon will be available to download as soon as it’s uploaded.

All NSFW items still need to be locked on Patreon to abide by their TOU, but they will also be uploaded to LL immediately where they can be downloaded for free.

The first 1-3 Patreon tiers will remain, but they will be donation options spliced with extras (more consistent WIPS, etc)

The monthly Patreon theme will go, but I will be adding additional commission tier spots. More info on that to come.

We will see how this goes. For all I know, EA might come out next week saying early access is allowed again. Who knows? But for now, this is how it will be.

I want to thank you all for supporting me and my work. I like to think that a lot of you support me because you think I'm worthy of the support, not just because you can't be bothered to wait for my slow-ass to release content freely. Anyway, I love you all. ❤❤

#other #sims4drama #sims 4 drama

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imaddicted2hs · 1 year

Text

ONE SHOT- Broken Mirror

Its going to be sad sad so brace yourself guys.

And yes hey, posting after like decades lmao. Its just a little something i have been feeling lately so if you wanna feel a lil sad, this is the one shot maybe.

Word Count- 1.4k

Warnings- Angst

Happy Reading!!

---------------------------

I slowly breathe in as I mindlessly open my case. I grab the neck of my black guitar, pulling it out carefully. “You will play great y/n I know, don’t stress it too much yeah?” I give my friend a small tight lipped smile and look around to see if he’s there.

We don’t have the same class anymore but he has friends in my section so he often visits during the common break. I have spent nights memorising this very song by heart. I learned to play it on guitar so that I could sing it all out, all my feelings for him. But it will be like a knife was stabbed in my heart if he doesn’t show up. I notice a few heads turn towards me as I sit on the desk, positioning my guitar. I feel the coarse strings on my fingertips as I hold some random chords and give it a light strum. Before beginning with it I quickly glance at the door and to my surprise I make eye contact with him. It’s so quick that I barely see anything other than his green orbs looking at me and his body leaning at the door frame basically effortlessly. Without giving it a second thought I start strumming the intro attracting a few more half interested peeps around me. I get lost in singing right away because I have always felt those lyrics deep in my bones. I was in no way a singer but I was fine enough to not make other people’s ear bleed and sound tolerable if there was light music in the background.

“I wanna taste his lips, yeah cause they taste like you, I wanna drown myself in a bottle of his perfume.”

I made sure to change the pronouns as I sang the song and I tried my best, I really did, to not turn my head to the left as I said the you part but it was almost like my actions were out of my control. Ofcourse I regretted doing that because as soon as I turned my head, he stared right at me and I saw his eyebrows shoot up, which was almost unnoticeable, but I caught the slight surprise in his eyes. Regardless I continued and it felt like the song ended too fast or I swallowed a whole verse or something but maybe I was just being paranoid. My idiotic brain made sure to not skip looking at him at any of the ‘yous’. It was almost embarrassing because I felt like a few people noticed it. I strum the last chord and let it echo as I pull my hand away and smile at the small crowd in front of me. I didn’t even notice that I’d attracted a good amount, probably around 50 people, as I played. Not even a second later I heard a small applause and my friend's rushing words like “dude how” or “damn girl” as she gave me a side hug. I didn’t have the guts anymore to look at him again and my only friend who knew about him gave me a sympathetic look which I just shrugged to in response. So what really was the deal? Harry Styles. The boy I have liked since 7th grade, which means it’s been almost 5 years now. We were not strangers no but we weren’t close friends either. The dynamic we had was too confusing for me to understand properly. We actually did pretty great when it came to texting but it all came down to puddles of awkwardness and almost forced conversation whenever we tried to talk face to face. It wasn’t like that for the first year I’d met him but after two years of not seeing each other and only texting at times, it all ended in this weird ball of confusion. Almost like an intangible mess of lose threads. And what made it worse was my old ex best friend, now like a frenemy, was closer to him than I could ever be. It was almost excruciating to watch them talk so freely and even laugh together. It’s a thought that can make me bust into tears at anytime of the day so I won’t go down that road. I hear a few “that was really nice” and “great job, keep it up” as I start to put my guitar back in because boys around here can’t be trusted. All the compliments made sure to put a permanent smile on my face but my bubble is popped as soon as I see him approach me. “You looked adorable while playing the guitar.” It takes me a second to get a grasp of what he said but I mutter a quick thanks as I try to find something, anything, to do with my hands as we talked. “Could we talk for a moment?” I close my eyes and mentally curse myself because I had a feeling that this would happen but I also had a small hope that he won’t find the guts to do this. “Sure ofcourse” I reply as coolly as I could. I follow him as he tries to make small talks. I know I can break the ice and make it less hard but something inside me doesn’t want me to. Almost as if my soul is enjoying watching him struggle. “So how’s life treating you?” “Nothing much, what about you?” Him and his dry replies again. I just shrug in response to challenge that response. “So who’s the guy crush?” He askes me all of a sudden and I just scoff as a reflex. “Are you really asking me that right now?” My question is laced with annoyance and I can see that he’s taken back by my sudden change in mood but I’m done pretending now. Before he can say anything I attack him with my words. “Not a single glance I gave you was the answer to the question you just asked? I can’t take it anymore Harry, I can’t. Either you are just naive or you just don’t want to see what’s right in front of you.” My voice is shaking but I continue because his face portrays not a single emotion right now.

“You give me all of these mixed signals and I almost believe that you like me but then you sometimes say stuff that screams ‘we are friends’ right in my face. I like you Harry and this all is killing me.” I just stare at him because I know he deserves atleast a little time to comprehend it all. He sighs before he makes a go for it. “Y/n you’re cool and a nice friend but I’m just not looking for a relationship right now. But I promise that we can be really good friends. You can trust me.”

“That’s it? Good friends after this? What? Okay not looking for a relationship. With me or in general? And why didn’t I hear you say that you don’t reciprocate these feelings? What if that girl you like liked you back? You would date her I’m sure.” I can’t think straight as I bombard him with all these questions with tears daring to fall from my eyes. He just gives me a look from which I can’t make out anything and I just stand there watch him leave after he mutters an apology. I want to scream at him. I want to yell and let him know that now also he did nothing but communicate badly and I hate him for not liking me back but I don’t say any of that. Instead I break into tears and let all the frustration out because it really isn’t his fault. He never asked me to fall for him and he never asked me to get attached to him. He didn’t promise me a strong bond or a friendship. He didn’t because he didn’t need to. I fell into the ugliest trap of one sided love and I resent the fact that anything like that exists. I get a hold of myself and I sprint into the nearest restroom. I wash my face, tell myself everything is fine and somehow make it out alive of the next three hours of school. I reach home and in no time I lay on my bed and I cry and cry until I have no tears left. He didn’t feel the same. It felt like I had looked in a mirror, but it was broken. I’d shouted but the voice hadn’t echoed. I had thrown a pebble in the lake and the droplets hadn't repeled. I didn’t like this feeling and I just wanted to wallow in my sadness for the whole night. And that’s exactly what I did.

-------------------------------

Thoughts??? Constructive criticism is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated and I hope I have improved. I'll writing something longer and better soon maybe. See ya till then;)

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry 1d #harry styles #harry styles and y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot

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filmbyjy · 2 years

Note

Currently procrastinating doing my homework cuz I’m stupid and it’s so overwhelming it’s actually ridiculous and it got me thinking… What enhypen members do you think would help distract you vs which ones would force you to do your work lol (I have some ideas but I wanna hear your opinion) and how would they distract/motivate you? Not me thinking about neck kisses with Jay

-🥥

aww :(( you aren’t dumb. its understandable that you get overwhelmed with homework sometimes (I get overwhelmed too considering my homework consists of drawing and making 3D models)

but anyways, if I were to put them in categories…

distracts you (sfw): sunoo & ni-ki + sunghoon & maybe jay if he needs your attention

sunoo and ni-ki would definitely force you away from your work. like they are more important than homework☝️ screw homework🗣️ you can forget about completing it. if you get detention because of them then they will apologise and give you hugs. still dont expect them to help you. they will also do it constantly. you’re going to have to resist them unfortunately😔

simple, sunghoon hates homework. as for jay, if baby is feeling needy for your attention then he will hug you and pull you away from it – soft jay :((

how they distract you: by literally jumping on you and whining for your attention like a cat or dog / pokes your cheeks constantly until you give into them (which happens often) / hugs you tight

makes you do it (sfw): jungwon + jake, heeseung & most of the times jay

come on now. do you really think leader nim or jay will let you neglect your homework🤨 he will literally sit you down and force you to finish it☝️ but of course, he will give you a treat after completing it. CUDDLES☺️

jake and heeseung dont really force upon you to do your homework. rather they encourage you and maybe help you with it a little if you dont understand it

how they motivate you: by making a deal “if you do this/finish this, we can cuddle or do something together.” / they will give treats in the middle like snacks / making promises / kisses to motivate (yes I imagined jay doing this)

nsfw – hyung line only⬇️ MDNI‼️

distracts you (nsfw): heeseung & sunghoon (actually on occasions jay and jake if they cant keep it their pants + i’m also a whore for them💗)

LORD THESE TWO HAVE NO PATIENCE I TELL YOU. especially sunghoon☝️ that man hates homework and school with a passion. like imagine doing homework and sunghoon peeps over your shoulder. literally scoffs and pushes you down on the bed whilst shoving his tongue down your throat. ah yes, what an amazing boyfriend😍

heeseung has slightly more patience than hoon but like he still doesn’t care and will just pull you away from the homework. probably doesn’t literally shove his tongue but he will tilt your face so you will face him and he kisses you passionately😀

for jay and jake, they usually do not distract you from doing your homework but like if they do, it’s usually them being horn dogs and need help. I know everyone says jake cant keep it in his pants but like when it comes to homework, he prioritises it more before giving himself an reward. unless of course, he can’t wait. much like jay

how they distract you in nasty way😀: by grinding up against you / I’d like to say sunghoon will literally grab your hand and place it on his dick before saying along the lines of “im hard. I need you.” / for jay’s case, i’d say pressing kisses from your ear to your jaw, neck and shoulders. gives you goosebumps. so good luck not getting distracted.

makes you do it (nsfw): jay & jake

okay jay, like I said before in the sfw version. jay prioritises homework > anything else. he thinks you should complete it and be done with it so you don’t have to anything to worry about later on. however, you would be the one distracted since HE IS LOOKING SO DAMN FINE SITTING DOWN ON THE COUCH WHILE MANSPREADING😩

also mentioned before I said jake would prioritise homework. its like jay. he knows its important so its great to do the important task first before worrying about the high sex drive he has. he doesn’t distract you and encourages you to do it despite his dick twitching everytime his eyes travel down your body (mf is a horny teen I swear)

how they reward you: after doing your homework, they give you what you deserve with tons of praises. “good girl/you did so well.” lord🫠 / makes love to you to show you, you are amazing and they love you🥺

so yeah, that’s my take on this :D

#SOMEONE STOP I SWEAR #THE MORE I WRITE #THE MORE DELULU I BECOME😭😭#markxdino: asks #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #anon: 🥥

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