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yeoandmoon · 4 months

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cowboy take me away ( mingi x reader )

as the child of a long forgotten freedom fighter, and a long time informant of kim hongjoong, you've been entangled in the bloody history & politics of strickland for as long as you could remember. when an invitation shows up at your door in the form of a familiar gunman, you find yourself grappling with the idea of gaining freedom & love in your harsh world or sticking in the comfort of your shadows.

smut + angst, ateezverse, outlaw!mingi & librarian!reader, afab reader, right person wrong lifetime, mentions of war & corruption, mingi is covered in blood, breeding kink, unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, thigh riding, wc is 4.7k

NOTE: takes place almost directly after the events of the bouncy music video ( a whole comeback and a half late, but i think it's what cowboy mingi would want )! this fic was written across 2 provinces, 1 state, 2 continents and 3 countries its a world traveller <3 title is from cowboy take me away by the chicks. if you like this please consider reblogging or leaving a comment / an ask :)

BANG! BANG! BANG!

You hear the banging before anything else. You’re quick to get up, nearly tossing your book to the floor in your haste.

The clock on the stove reads 21:37, and you know exactly who awaits you on the other side of the front door. The news reports of the bombings of The Prestige Academy had been live for nearly three hours, and it was only a matter of time before they came knocking.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Another bang rings out through your apartment, shaking the wooden door and the small ornaments that hung around it - good luck charms, your mother had once told you.

It was silly of you to keep them up. You knew it was silly to still believe the bedtime stories of a broken down revolutionary, and the childhood she wanted so badly for you.

Yet, here they remain - framing your door in an arch of wooden dolls, and nearly forgotten symbols.

Everything you’d witnessed with The Eight; all the history that could’ve been and should have been of your world laid out right in front of you by a scary little man and his little hourglass wasn’t enough for you to pull them down. You told yourself it’d be disrespecting your mother’s memory by doing that.

Hongjoong and his boys made you believe in the stories of your mother, and the world she wanted.

It’s while staring at the smallest doll in the arch that you take another deep breath, and finally steal a glance at the shadows that are casted under the door. You can see the person shuffle in place, almost nervously.

You know who it is, and what they want from you.

You almost want to be upset by the uninvited visitor. You want to throw the door open, and scream at him; you want to tell him how he ruined your life. You want to tell him how you should’ve called the Guardians when you saw them walk into your library that day; how you regret letting them pull you into this world you watched tear your mother apart.

But - you’re not really upset. The thought of them makes your palms sweat, and your cheeks flush and you don’t want them to go. You want him to come inside and hold you; you want him to stay here, and despite your threats, you could never call the Guardians on him… on any of them.

You look back up at the small doll that smiles down at you, and try not to let visions of soft pink hair and gummy smiles invade your mind. You try to forget the feeling of rough hands against your skin, and his lips kissing your tummy. You want to push those to the back of your mind, and simply ignore the cowboy on the other side of your door.

BANG!

A final resounding bang rings out, and you finally grip the door handle before ripping the door open.

As if summoned by your inner complaining & contemplation, there is a man in a cowboy hat on the other side of your door. His hat sits low over his face, and a rifle hangs at his side; you could just see the blood splattered on his leathers and his cheek.

You try not to stare at the way the tan vest hugs his toned torso; or how the deep red blood speckles his neck and chest. Your knuckles turn white as they tighten on the doorframe.

Your lips kiss along his neck, while your hands are tight against his hips. You pull him closer to you and revel in the soft whimpers that fall from his swollen lips. His hands are warm, but you know he runs hot and you soak in the warmth.

“Y/N.” His deep voice breaks through the silence, as if slashing a knife through your daydream.

You give him a brief nod, “Mingi.”

There’s a smile growing on the outlaw’s face, “Were you hoping I would leave if you ignored me enough?” Mingi asks, gently pushing you to the side as he steps into your apartment.

You sigh before closing the door behind him, making sure the locks and deadbolts are tight before turning to him. You don’t answer, but your mind continues to linger on his comment and just how wrong it truly is.

The last thing you want is for him to leave - for him to leave you.

“Hongjoong called you.”

You nod, and your eyes flicker to the drawer where your small burner phone sits in the kitchen. There’s a coded voicemail from Kim Hongjoong in the inbox, and you had listened to it enough times that you could probably recite it for Mingi.

Hongjoong and his boys wanted you to join the revolution - officially. You had been content hiding in the background of it; feeding information to Hongjoong in cryptic messages & sneaky meetings, and then letting them take the credit, but Hongjoong wanted you at the forefront now.

There was a reason, of course. You knew why he wanted you, of all people.

“I’m not my mother, Mingi.” Your voice breaks as you finally look up at the man in front of you.

Mingi looks down at you. His short pink hair is messy under the cowboy hat, and his brows are furrowed in frustration. As you look back at him, all you can think of is the wanted posters plastered through the city center, and how you wish the artists could see the vision you see.

His voice is soft as he finally speaks, “You’ve gotten comfortable, Y/N.” Mingi moves the rifle from his shoulder and onto your kitchen counter, careful to place the barrel and silencer facing the wall.

“You’re comfortable surrounded by your books, and letting Hongjoong take all the credit for your work. You should’ve been there tonight.”

You lean back against the door, right under the arch of dolls as you contemplate Mingi’s words. He’s mirroring you - standing under the arch of your kitchen door, but your apartment is so small that you can just feel the warmth of his body against yours. A part of your mind thinks you’re imagining it, but you know if you were to reach your arm out, you could take the outlaw’s rough hand into your own.

You almost do, too. You begin to reach your hand out when Mingi moves to speak again, “She’d want you to be there, you know.”

His words slam into you like a ton of bricks. Your hand falls back against your side while Mingi’s statement immediately fills your eyes with tears, and the vision of the bloodied man in front of you begins to blur. You look down to hide your tears from him, but you still find yourself nodding in agreement. He’s right. He’s right, and it makes you so angry just how right he is.

“But I don’t want to be there,” You finally say, “It’s not the place for me. I’m not like her. I’m not like Joong. I want what they wanted… what they want, but I’m better off behind you.”

Mingi shuffles closer to you, and his hand moves to hold your wrist. You blink, and tears begin to fall down your cheeks when you feel his nimble fingers against your pulse point. His body gently pushes you back against the front door.

“Would it change anything if I told you: I want you to be there? I want you to be there, right next to us? Next to me?”

When you look up at him, you see his dark brown eyes have softened. His face is still shadowed by the cowboy hat, and you reach your free hand up to gently push the hat off, letting it hit the floor in a soft thud. The warm light of your apartment immediately illuminates Mingi’s harsh features, revealing a sad smile as he meets your teary eyes.

You push his hair out of his face before cupping his cheek, and you revel in the way he closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

“I’ve watched this world tear people apart, Min. I don’t want to watch it break you too.” You tell him, your thumb gently brushing against his cheek, “I don’t want it to break me.”

You felt selfish as the words left your lips. Maybe you were being selfish, but you cared about him too much. You care about him enough that it’s dangerous - for both of you. You both knew your time together was limited and scarce, and soon all the work you’ve both done would finally culminate with Hongjoong’s plans.

Yet, here you stand - wrapped in a bloodied cowboy’s arms, half naked and crying, unsure if this will be the last time you see each other.

“I’m not going to break, Y/N.” His hand maneuvers from your wrist, and onto your bare thigh, just brushing under the hem of the night shirt you have on, “You wouldn’t, either. We wouldn’t let you.”

You stay silent, but you wrap your arms around Mingi’s neck and pull him into a tight hug. Mingi immediately reacts, with his own arms moving to wrap around you and his head falling into your neck. You can feel his lips ghost against your neck while one of your hands moves through his hair, almost holding him in place against you.

There’s things you could say; things you want to say to him (don’t die. come back. i love you.), but you don’t say any of that. Those are foolish thoughts for your situation, and dreams neither of you can afford right now.

Instead, you gently push him away so you can see him, both your hands coming up to cup his cheeks, “Does Joong know you’re here?”

Mingi shakes his head, and you notice his own tears beginning to fall down his face. You keep your eyes on him as you nod, while one of your thumbs gently runs over his bottom lip.

“We don’t have much time then?” Your voice is hardly a whisper.

Mingi kisses your thumb before taking your hand in his, entwining your fingers and kissing your palm, “We’re leaving at midnight.” He finally says.

It takes a moment of contemplation before you surge forward in Mingi’s hold, leaning up to capture his lips in a harsh kiss. His arm around your waist tightens its grip before he kisses back, and you feel his other hand drop your own before beginning to move into your hair.

You pull away after a moment, leaning back against the door as you settle in Mingi’s arms. You look up at him - taking in the way his cheeks have blushed, and his pupils are nearly blown out. Your eyes glance over the now-smudged blood on his cheek and neck, and you have to think he’s doing it on purpose. He’d come to you after doing Hongjoong’s dirty work before, bloody & wrecked and he’d always laugh when he saw how wet your panties had become after seeing him like that.

“Take the jacket off, Mingi.” Your voice cuts through the silence you two had created.

There’s a small smile playing at your lips when Mingi jumps before nodding, unhooking his arm from around you to pull the heavy leather coat off. Your eyes follow it as he unceremoniously drops it on your foyer floor.

His hands move to his vest, and your eyes are quick to follow as he begins slowly unbuttoning the leather.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” You narrow your eyes at him.

Mingi’s cheeky smile and the way his eyes glance up at you confirms all you need to know. You fake a gasp as one of your hands reaches out to grasp his, and you tug him back closer to you.

“You’re a tease,” you tell him as you kiss him again.

He smiles into the kiss, while one of his hands moves to cradle your head and tilts you to gain easier access to your lips, “Am I?”

You begin to unbutton the remaining buttons on the vest, just as Mingi crowds you back against the door. He presses a kiss to your cheek, and you melt into the way he deepens the kiss while his thigh moves between your own, pressing up against your soaked core.

You groan at the feeling of his jeans against your clothed pussy, “Am I going to come here?”

Another cheeky smile flashes at you, “I am a tease, aren’t I?” He hums.

Mingi pushes you down against his thigh as he speaks, with his hands holding your hips. The drag of your clit along his thigh rendered you speechless and hot, and you let yourself fall back against the door in your bliss.

You’re standing on your toes as you rock against him when one of his arms hooks around your waist.

“Go on, baby.” He leans down to kiss your temple, “Use me to make yourself feel good.”

His other hand tugs at the hem of your night shirt, slowly inching it up to reveal your body to him. There’s a hunger in his eyes that makes you feel wanted and sticky, and you can’t help it when your hands move to grasp at the vest to steady yourself. Mingi’s free hand moves to your chest, his fingers gently begin thumbing at your nipple until it hardens.

You let out a sharp gasp at the feeling, relishing in the way his touch fuels the warmth that grows within you - it’s a warmth that truly only burns for the Gunman, and part of you worries it might never burn for anyone else.

Your hands move into Mingi’s hair when he leans down to take your nipple in his mouth, and the whimpers that come from the man as you tug brings another wave of arousal that goes straight to your core (and the sticky mess that you’re sure are ruining your panties and Mingi’s jeans). You can feel the bulge in his tight jeans each time you rock your hips; it matches the hunger you saw in his eyes as he kissed up your neck, letting your shirt fall back down as one of his hands moved to cup your pussy.

You reach out to palm the bulge in his jeans, and a sleepy grin graces your lips when Mingi lets out a beautiful sound. He groans your name, his free hand gripping your wrist while you push against him.

He pulls your hand away, “Don’t worry ‘bout me,” He tuts.

“You sound pretty.”

Mingi’s thumb pressed into your clit in reply, and the action brought a near scream out of you. Your hips stutter against his hand, and you grip his vest tighter as you begin to lose your balance. Mingi’s hand around your waist moves to pick you up, using the imbalance as an excuse to pull you closer to him.

“Mingi…” Your voice is strained and full of neediness.

He hums into your skin, nipping at your collarbone, “I know, Y/N.”

His thumb presses circles into your clit, and your thighs shake as you wrap your legs around Mingi. Your head falls onto his shoulder as your hips rock into his hand, urging him to move faster and harder.

You kiss him, messy and rough when he brushes his finger over your entrance, pushing you over the edge to your orgasm. You tremble against him, and he kisses away your cries and whimpers, holding you impossibly close in his arms.

Mingi’s thumb slows its movements as you ride out your climax. He presses a kiss to your hair, and you know he’s talking to you, but you can hardly hear him. You can hardly guess what he might even be saying against the quiet of your apartment and the blood rushing in your ears.

“We’re going to bed now, baby.” He whispers to you, kissing your cheek and finally moving away from under the arched doorway.

You laugh into his shoulder, “Are you going to fuck me?”

He doesn’t answer on the short walk to your bedroom, but you don’t need an answer. You know how tonight will go. You always know with Mingi.

Mingi softly drops you onto your bed, untangling your legs from around his waist before quickly beginning to undo his belt. You keep your eyes on him as you pull your soaked panties off, haphazardly kicking them to the floor while you watch Mingi undo his jeans, leaving them open as he turns his attention back to you.

He looks positively wrecked, and all he’s done is made you come. This causes an undeniable high to begin racing through your veins, and the high only grows when you feel Mingi’s fingers dancing along your inner thigh leading right up to your soaked core.

“‘Gonna open you up, baby,” Mingi grunts, while he gently pushes you back against the bed and shoves your legs open so he can comfortably kneel between them, “We gotta make sure I fit, yeah?”

You gasp at the combination of his words and the feeling of his thumb against your clit so soon, but when you glance up, he’s smiling down at you. Your fingers tightened in the sheets and you wanted to curse Mingi. You were so wet from your previous orgasm that you knew you could probably take him with minimal prep - it wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before.

But no; Mingi wanted to watch you writhe on the sheets as you took his fingers, nice and slow.

He gripped your thigh as he pushed two of his long fingers into you, and he chuckled when you threw your head back, a moan of his name escaping your lips.

“Min, please,” You bucked your hips up to meet the thrust of his fingers, “Just fuck me!”

Mingi kisses your knee in response, “We got some time,” He hums, but you could hear his voice waver as he adds another finger, and watches you grind yourself against them.

The short walk to your bedroom had hardly been enough time to recover from the orgasm you’d had against the door, and all you could do was soak up the increasing pleasure as you rode Mingi’s fingers. Although your bedroom was usually a quiet spot, it was soon overtaken by the sound of your soft cries and Mingi’s fingers thrusting into your weeping hole.

You let your head push back against the mattress as you whined in frustration and arousal. Your thighs were burning from Mingi holding them open to accommodate his large frame, and all you truly wanted to do was come on his cock.

Maybe you were made to ride his cock, a sneaky part of your arousal corrupted brain squeaked. Usually, you’d push those thoughts out of your mind but right now… You looked up at the man who sat over you. Mingi’s hair was a mess from you tugging on it earlier, with his vest hung open to expose his blood splattered chest and arms to you; leather string necklaces and chains hung from his neck, and it didn’t take long for you to pick out a pendant you had gifted him months earlier. His unbuttoned jeans stretched over his thick thighs, and hung low on his hips, exposing just enough skin that it made your mouth water.

Right now, you had no choice but to agree with the little voice that just maybe, you were made to ride Song Mingi’s cock.

You let out another whine at the revelation, bucking your hips into his hand as you reached for Mingi with a sweaty hand, “Min, I-I need you to fuck me now, please.”

Mingi takes your hand, using it as leverage to pull himself down and crush his lips into yours, “My baby needs my cock?”

His palm grinds against your clit, and the pressure is enough to turn any answer you might have for him into a broken moan. You kiss him harder, squeezing Mingi’s hand tightly in yours as you push your hips up to gain any kind of friction against him.

You wouldn’t even put it past yourself to begin grinding on his thigh wedged between your legs again - like some kind of bitch in heat.

The coil in your lower half begins to burn again, timing itself with the harsh thrusts of Mingi’s fingers and the way he kisses you, hard & unforgiving. When you move out of the kiss to place soft kisses and bites along his jaw, a broken whine escapes Mingi and it nearly topples you hard over the edge.

You buck your hips hard into his hand and kiss his neck, “I’m g-going to come,” You tell Mingi, who swears before kissing your cheek.

Hardly a second flashes before you, then the hand between your thighs is ripped away, along with it is the pleasure that you so desperately crave.

“Mingi!” You whine, trying to reach for him as he pulls his hand from your cunt, dodging your grabby hands and begins to move off of your bed, already tearing the vest off his body.

“‘think you should be good now,” Mingi gives you a teasing smile, beginning to push his jeans and boxers the rest of the way down his thighs.

He keeps his gaze on you as he begins to crawl back onto the bed, and you can see the fire that’s present in his eyes. He moves to settle between your thighs, though you can’t help but let your vision wander down his body.

A gruff laugh comes from Mingi as you feel one of his warm hands rest on your thigh. His other hand reaches for you, gently resting on your cheek as he moves over you, “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

You want to laugh at his bluntness, but he kisses you so hard that you can hardly react. His hand moves from your thigh to sit heavy on your hip as he pushes into you, and all you can do is whimper into the kiss.

Despite the prep (and your inner insistence that you could take him unprepared), Mingi is big, and you could hardly remember the last time you felt so full. It’s a euphoric feeling as he thrusts into you, holding you down against your mattress and pushing any non Song Mingi related thoughts out of your mind.

Your hands move as if they have a mind of their own; one of them moves to tangle back in Mingi’s hair, and Mingi groans before pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Min, it feels so good.” The hand on your hip squeezes, pressing you harder into the mattress.

He smiles against your skin, and presses a kiss to your throat, “I’m not sure how long I’m going to last,” His voice is weak, and laced with wanton pleasure.

Mingi had been restraining himself all night - that much you knew. You had felt the change in his energy the moment he propped you up on his thigh in your living room, but he still took his time. He took his time teasing you, and drinking in everything you could give him, but you knew wanted more. Mingi wanted every last drop he could get from you, and you wanted him to have it.

You nod at his words, and try to pull Mingi closer to you. The incoming familiar waves of pleasure were already tugging at your strings, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before you would find yourself over the edge again.

You’d like to think it was the pleasure that spoke the next sentence that fell from your lips; or, maybe even the Mingi corrupted part of your brain, but you knew that you meant the following stuttered request with every ounce of your being.

“I wan’ you to come in me.”

Mingi’s hips stutter and he swears, “If I knock you up, you’d have to come with me.” He gives a hard thrust, as if proving a point, and seems to revel in the way it makes you gasp and clench around him, “Then, I might just knock you up again - for good measure.”

You can hardly contain the broken moan that falls from your lips, “Mingi… fuck, Joong would kill us.” You grip his arm, your nails digging into the flesh as he thrusts harder into your heat. You’d never admit (especially not to Hongjoong), but the idea Mingi proposed erupted a fire within you, and it burnt from head to toe.

A low growl escapes from his lips, as he presses another kiss into your sweaty skin, “Nah, Hongjoong would kill me. He could never hurt you, baby.”

He continues his kisses along your neck, and you feel the hand on your hip slowly move over your soft tummy before you feel his fingers graze over your clit again. He presses down on the sensitive nub as you mewl, pushing your hips up to meet his thrusts. The new angle presses his cock deeper into you, and you can feel the tendrils of euphoria begin to wrack through your body with every movement of Mingi’s hips and nimble fingers.

In that moment, you’re not sure how anyone will ever make you feel how Mingi does; how anyone will fuck you like this, or just simply look at you the way the tall gunman does.

Mingi’s hips stutter again as he gently nudges your cheek with his nose, “Y/N…”

You grip his arms harder; hard enough that you’re sure it’ll leave bruises for Hongjoong and the others to find in the morning, but for now you just nod, “Mingi, come in me.” You repeat the demand.

Mingi presses a kiss on your collarbone as he moans, a breath of your name leaving his lips before he comes. The feeling of his seed spilling into you, and the warm hands on your body is enough to set off your own undoing, pushing you hard over the cliff.

Stars take over your vision, and your back arches as you ride out your orgasm against Mingi, trying to pull him closer into your orbit. You vaguely feel his hand take yours, and you begin to slowly recover while he presses soft kisses against your wrist and palm. He’s sweaty above you, and you can see the flush that overtakes his cheeks while he comes down from his own climax.

“Do you have to leave now?” You manage to croak out, scared to look at the clock next to your bed.

Mingi glances at the clock, and a frown crosses his face - just for a moment. He shakes his head though, “No, not yet.”

His voice is soft, and you know he’s lying to you. He’s still holding your hand as he moves to lie next to you on your bed. The bed is small enough that he crowds you against the wall, but you two had done this enough times that you expect it; in fact, you almost welcome the crowding that comes from having Song Mingi in your bed.

You’d take anything to spend more time with him, but for now you settle with the soft kisses he’s placing on your hand.

“You know what to say if they come looking for us?”

You nod.

“I’m sorry,” Guilt racks his voice, and you’re not sure what he’s sorry for. Maybe he’s saying it for Hongjoong, who pulled you back into this, or maybe he’s sorry for leaving.

Maybe he’s sorry for loving you, when neither of you could afford to be loved.

You don’t want an answer though, and instead you pull him back into your orbit and settle for slotting your lips against his one last time.

—

When you wake alone in the morning, you can’t help but notice the small doll in the arch around your door is gone - only the blank wallpaper behind it remains.

As your hand moves to touch the mouth-shaped bruise on your throat, you somehow find comfort in the broken arch of charms.

#ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #song mingi smut #ateez angst #song mingi angst #ateez scenarios #b.

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helloitstsyu · 10 months

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TikTok Tease | Tom Cruise 18+

My masterlist

Summary : You did a tiktok video in front of Tom and teased him with it.

a/n : saw something on tiktok and just can't stop to think about this. here's the link . Also i tried smtg different, this is on reader's POV.

Pairing : Tom Cruise x Fem¡reader

Wc: 2k ish

Warning : smut. do not enter if you're minor

I saw this video and I'm itching to do it to Tom. He's upstairs right now in his office having his last phone call meeting for the day. Meanwhile I'm just down here in the kitchen preparing for our dinner while i jammed to A Gangester's Wife by Ms Krazie.

"Darling?" his voice shoots in between the upbeat tune.

Looking up, Tom's walking down the stairs. Donning a casual navy polo shirt and a pair of jeans, he looks just as ravishing as he always is.

"Hi babe, dinner's almost ready.." i smile to him as he walks closer and joins me in the kitchen. "Everything okay with the call?" I ask.

"Yeah..." he nods with a smile. "It went well. We still have to call the studio and ask for the greenlight, but yeah, everything sorted out one by one— is that my favorite pesto?" He leans to the stove and takes a look at the food that I'm cooking. Tom takes an inhale deeply at the smoking food on the stove. "Ahh.. smells amazing," he grins.

I chuckle, "Two more minutes, and I'll be done,"

"Okay.." Tom sits down on one of the stool right in front of me. He he stares at me with glimmering eyes, kid-like kind of stares. He props his chin with both hands. His big smile never leaves as his eyes glued on me.

"What are you a five year old?" I laugh and shake my head.

Tom chuckles. His eyes dart down to see what I'm wearing. Suddenly, those cheeky grins turn into a dirty smirk as he furrows his brows. His glimmering eyes turn darker.

"Is that a new apron?" Tom cocks an eyebrow.

Looking down at the blue stripy apron on my body, i remember i just ordered this a couple of weeks ago since i get bored with the other basic black apron. Blue is Tom's favorite color, i thought it would be appropriate to buy it in this color. Seems like he likes it.

"Uh-huh." i nod.

"Hmm," Tom squints his eyes and smirks. "Looks good on you, darling," his voice suddenly changes, drops an octave deeper.

"Is that so?" I tease him with a slight head titl as i turn off the stove. I lick the spilled pesto on my finger while i look up to his eyes with that sireny-spelled gaze.

Tom chuckles, he shakes his head, "Baby.. no! I'm hungry. We're gonna just eat this delicious dinner you made." His smile is wide despite the stern in his voice.

"Okay!" You laugh, "What else are we gonna do– it's done. Stop gawking at me and help me plate,"

Tom laughs, "Gawking at you?" He repeats as he stands up and turns around the island. Tom captures me, his hands around my waist, and he pulls me closer to him. "How am i gawking at you, huh?" he tickles me.

I giggle and try to stop his attacking tickles. "Tom! Tom, stop!" I laugh and try to hold down his tickling fingers. Tom grabs me and pulls me to his chest. He places a deep kiss on my temple.

"Go on, help me plate, please," you ask nicely. He finally lets go of me and takes some plates from the cabinet.

Remembering i have a bright idea of how to tease him (again). I set my phone against the oil bottle. He doesn't even see me setting up my phone. Tom just focuses on scooping the pesto pasta to our serving plate. I take off the apron i wore and undo my messy bun.

Then i just pressed the record button.

The song plays, and he noticed I'm recording. He stops, and he looks up at my phone screen.

Daddy let me know that I'm the only girl. The only man that i need in this gangster world.

I mouth along the lyrics as it plays. Tease him a little by leaning down a little bit too seductively cause i was feeling the song. His mouth drops open. His eyes widen in a surprise to find my little tease. I can't help to get out of character and laugh at his shocked, stalled-breath expression. Tom's blushing, and he's absolutely stunned. Tom laughs and quickly hoists me off the screen.

"Darling!!" He laughs, Tom picks me up like my bodyweight is nothing, setting me to sit on top of the granite top island.

Hooked in. Nailed it. Just the right thing to do to turn him on.

I just can't stop laughing. Tom keeps giggling, and his face turns even a brighter shade of red. His eyes flickers lightly. "Did you call me daddy, love?" Tom asks.

"Hmm... Maybe.." i shrug my shoulders.

He shakes his head, he's smile never seems this wide. The earlier tiredness on his face seems to be gone. "You little minx," he whispers as he pulls my chin and kisses my lips.

"Say it again," he demands.

Chuckling, I shake my head.

"Darling... say it again," his voice is low, and sexily hoarse. The way his demeanor shifted as he commanded me, it struck a tingling heat inside of me straight to my toes.

"Daddy." I whisper.

"Mmmhmm.." Tom grins, showing his satisfaction from hearing me say the new nickname. "How did the song go again?" He asks. His nails are clawing on my thighs. He knows i like it when he does this. I muffled a whimper, my head rolling, and falling back. "Tommy..." i murmur.

Tom uses the advantage to place a kiss on my neck. He grips my hips and pulls me closer to him. He gradually picks up his pace, erotically sucks and nibs my sweet spot, earning me to moan lightly into his ears. "Tom..." i whimper, my fingers gripping the collar of his shirt.

I feel warmth tingling inside of me. Excitement rushing in my veins. I feel myself pooling under there.

His heated kiss moves down to my collar bone as his hands never stop to explore my body. He cups my tits. Kneading them and his finger circling my erected nipples.

"I thought you said you were hungry?"

He lifts his face off my breast and looks back to me. He gives me a wild smirk. "I am. Starving right now."

His hand slips underneath my tanktop, shifting it up to reveal my naked breast underneath. He passionately kneading one in his hand while he's busy sucking roughly the other. I moan, fingers running through his soft brunette strands, the feeling of his warmth slick tongue on my nipple starts to bring tingling pleasure throughout my body.

Opening my eyes, i look back straight to his eyes. His eyes darken with lust. He looks amazingly intoxicating. Sometimes, it still hasn't kicks in that i have him for real. That I have the sexiest bachelor of Hollywood all for myself.

I pull him by his shirt and kiss him again. Tongue hungrily meeting his. I desperately pull him even closer to me. His fingers tucks on the waistband of my shorts. He takes my shorts off and toss it onto the floor. Spreading my legs apart widely, Tom chuckles at my submissive display.

Tom shakes his head and takes a step back. "I ask you something, darling. I won't continue if you're not going to answer me." He cocks an eyebrow.

"Wha... Tom!" I exclaim in disbelief. "Kiss me," i mewl. I try to pull him closer to me again, but Tom laughs. He grips my hand and holds it down. "Try me, darling," he challenged me to disobey him. He meant what he said he wouldn't continue till he heard what he wanted to hear. Such a dominant of him.

"What? What do you want?" I chuckle.

"Remind me how the song goes again?"

"Daddy, let me know—" i start to sing the lyrics. A wild smile appears on his face.

"Good girl," he cooes, then he squats down, face to my needing core.

"Ohh--" i moan as i feel his tongue flicking on my clit. "Tom," i purr. He sucks me passionately. His eyes look up to mine. He notices i stopped singing and enjoying the sensation of his oral expertise.

"Finish the song," he commands and eats me roughly again.

"Oh.. fuck—" i moan.

My breath starts to ragging. Feels like my voice is stuck in my throat. I feel the ecstasy starts to forming inside of me, needing for it to be released. My mind buzzing from the pleasure. I buck my head back, fingers tucking on his hair. "Ngh.. Ah! Tommhh," I helplessly moan.

"Sing." Tom tells, and sucks me again.

"D-daddy... let me know that— oOH!" I lost it again when i feel his fingers entering me. He pumps his fingers in and out of my cunt, coaxing me closer to the edge of spilling all over for him.

Climbing, climbing, pleasure keeps adding: He curls his fingers and make that deadly beckoning movement. He knows my body front and back. He knows exactly how to get me easily falling apart.

"F-fuckk! Yes! Right there!!" I moan, and moan, and moan.

All of a sudden, once I'm nearly gonna cum, Tom stops.

The feeling of unfinished pleasure makes my mind buzz. I whimper and squirm uncomfortably. How cruel is he. "Wha— why'd you stop?" I look down to him.

Tom shoots me an innocent look, he slightly shrugs his shoulders as he brings his coated fingers to his mouth. "You stop singing." He licks his finger clean.

I can't believe this man sometimes. "Oh my God— Tommy!"

Tom can only laugh at me. "That's not my name!" He titls his head to the side.

"Right—" I climb off the island and push him back till his back crashes the other counter. I roughly kiss him, hands circling to the back of his neck, i desperately kiss him.

"Daddy." I say in between the sloppy kisses. Tom smirks against my lips, hearing that nickname. Guess i manage to pull a new kink outta him.

"Daddy, let me know that I'm the only girl." I whisper to his ear as i place a wet kisses on his neck. "The only man–" i nibs on his neck. "The only fucking man," my hand explores his toned abs, i pull the polo shirt over his head, toss it down to meet my shorts on the floor.

I look up to his eyes. "You're the one that i need in this gangster world, daddy,"

Tom chuckles darkly. He cups my face and pulls me closer to him again. "That's right, I'm the only one," he cooes. He then continues to hungrily kiss me again. His kisses move to my neck, quickly finding my sweet spot, and erotically he nibs it, leaving his mark of ownership on me. I can feel his buldge pressing against me.

"Ouhh, daddy please..." i murmur, practically begging him

"Please? Please what, darling?" He cocks his eyebrows. The excitement is way too apparent in his tone and gaze.

"Let me have you,"

Tom chuckles darkly. "Have me?" He shakes his head, "Oh, I'm having my way with you tonight, darling," He throws me over his shoulder like my bodyweight is a feather. A playful slap lands to my cheek as he brings me to the couch and both of us falling onto the fluffy couch. Tom unbutton his jeans. He doesn't bother to take the whole thing off but just enough to free his cock. He aligns himself to my entrance. His tips rubbing against my opening. Tom instantly bottoms up, his cock fully enters me, stretching me to the brim. I yelp and squeal to his chest.

"You're gonna beg for me to let you cum," he darkly whisper into my ear. Tom starts to fuck me in a relentless pace.

I moan.... hard. My brain rattling with the immense amount of pleasure he's giving me. Tom looks down at me with intense, lustful eyes. His cock went deep inside of me as he have me folded in half with my knees to my chest.

My head falls back, eyeing the ceiling, my vision of the light blurs. "Ohh... god–" my eyes rolls to the back of my head.

"Nonono, eyes on me!" Tom pulls my neck back straight for me to face him again. "Oh you feel so fucking good," he moans. His eyebrows knitting together but his eyes still darkly looks down at me.

My nails dig on his shoulder. Tom leans closer, rest his forehead against mine, eyes still locked on mine. He fucks me so hard that I'm sure I'd be sore tomorrow. But it feels too good that it'll be so wrong to tell him to slow down. And I'm too overtaken by the pleasure. Too drunk with the taste of him.

"F-fuck— Tom!" I moan and panting hard.

"Yeah? Yeah, you wanted this? You think you deserve to cum after you tease daddy like a little slut, huh, darling?"

I can only helplessly nod.

"Tom... don't stop... p-please!" i beg feeling myself getting closer to cum.

"Not stopping, darling... You feel so good, all nice and tight for daddy,"

"O-oh! Tom let me cum please... please!" I cry out begging to him. He just smirks at me, dark lustful eyes looking down at me and still he's fucking me hard.

"Daddy please.. daddy let me cum!" I beg. My walls throbbing around him. I feel fire burning inside of me. My fingers gripping onto the couch hard.

"No! Wait!" He pants.

"S-sshhiit, Tom!" I squirm all over the place, trying my best to hold it.

"Wait baby! Cum with me," Tom leans closer holding me tightly. His forehead resting against mine. His panting breath meeting mine. I cry, couldn't bear the overflowing pleasure needing for the snap to occur.

I can feel his cock throbbing inside of me. He's close. He's holding onto me hard. His thrust starting to get sloppy. And just like that i lose it. The moment i feel him throbbing inside of me i can't help to hold it anymore.

I breathlessly scream daddy over and over again, moaning hard as i make a mess and squirm all over him. The sight of me falling apart got Tom spilling too. "Akhhh! FuUCk! Darling!" Tom groans. He remain freezes as he stills himself empty inside of me.

For a moment, he takes a breather and just rest of top of me. What's better than sex with him is what happened after the sex with him. It's like our soul intertwined, and i just feel a deep connection with him. Tom rolls me over so I'm on top of him, his arms instinctively hugs around me. He kiss me deeply. Still with a messy breath, he look deeply into my eyes with that shimmering after sex glow.

"You okay?" He softly asks.

Still panting i just can smile and nod. Tom kiss me deeply again. "I love you," he whispers softly.

I smile and kiss his cheek. "I love you too, daddy,"

Tom laughs and kisses me deeply again.

#tom cruise #tom cruise x reader #tom cruise fanfiction #tom cruise smut #pete maverick mitchell #tom cruise fic #tom cruise x female reader #top gun maverick #pete mitchell x reader #tom cruise icons #daddy smut #daddy issues

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tkwrites · 8 months

Text

Messages - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Photo from Pinterest

Title: Messages

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn x Sarah

Warnings: smut (18+ only), mutual masturbation, phone sex (sort of)

Summary: Missing him something fierce, Sarah sends Quinn a video of herself in his bed.

Word count: 1,600

Comments: 2 stories in 2 days? Who am I? In all seriousness, this has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and tonight felt like a good night for it to go into the world.

This snapshot is way out of the beginning-ish timeline I’ve been sticking to for a while. Hope you enjoy!

Messages

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Don’t listen until you’re alone.

Quinn was always interested when Sarah messaged him in the middle of the day. She was usually in school, so if she had something to say it was important.

This cryptic message, though, really piqued his interest.

A few seconds later, a video came through. The preview was black. He glanced around at the guys on the bus. No one seemed to be paying him any attention, and his airpods were in, so no one would overhear.

It was likely just her telling him a story with a lot of foul language. She always prefaced those this same way, not wanting anyone else to overhear despite his insistence that anyone he hung around with wouldn't be bothered.

So, he took the chance and pressed play.

Nothing changed. The screen stayed black, and it was quiet for a long while. He clicked to make sure it was playing. The progress bar at the bottom informed him there were two minutes left. The lighting was so dim, he wasn’t sure if he could see something in the top corner of the screen or not.

Then came the sound of her breathing - hitched, quick breaths that reminded him distinctly of being in bed with her. Tiny little moans followed. The kind that always made him want to make her really moan.

He gulped.

Eyes glued to the screen, Quinn listened as her breathy moans got louder.

Suddenly, it clicked. The video was of the ceiling. Of his ceiling. He could just make out the outline of the light fixture over his bed. The idea of her touching herself in his bed almost made him moan out loud.

His thoughts raced along with his heart.

He'd given her a key a few weeks before after she told him she liked to study there - it was so beautiful and so much quieter than her place or anywhere on campus. There was no point in it sitting empty while he was on the road, especially when she studied there when he was home, anyway.

Never in a million years had he thought she would be masturbating in his bed.

“Quinn,” her voice swam through his veins. His tongue felt heavy with the longing to kiss her and his suit pants grew uncomfortably tight.

Holy shit.

HOLY SHIT.

He clicked out of the video, cutting off her next words that sounded like they might be, "I wish-"

He couldn't listen to this here. They were just about to get to PNC. He would have to walk into the arena in less than 10 minutes with photographers and social media teams taking pictures and videos. He couldn’t walk off the bus with his lower half standing at attention like this. He’d be all over the internet in no time. Chirped by the team and his friends for the rest of his life.

Closing his eyes, he thought about swimming in the lake, taking a cold shower and his high school math teacher.

His body finally relaxed.

What the hell, Sarah? He messaged her then, ignoring the pull in his stomach to click on the video again. He could do it later, after a win over the Hurricanes. I’m on the bus.

I TOLD YOU TO LISTEN ALONE!

No one else heard. WHY would you send this in the middle of the day? And tell me not to watch it! Of course I’m watching it with that warning.

Deciding she ought to just be honest, Sarah chewed her lip as she typed, I didn’t want to lose the nerve. I felt like if I waited until tonight, I might chicken out. I thought you were in the arena already.

Quinn almost asked her why she was sending it in the first place. They’d had phone sex only once, and that was just two nights ago, when he had an evening off with no roommate and could catch her before bed with the time change. It had been exciting and awkward, but ultimately fulfilling for both of them. Even still, he didn't really expect it to happen again until his next road trip.

I’m sorry if I messed up your pre-game.

A smile melted onto his face. You didn't. Caught me off guard is all.

I did warn you.

“What’s got you blushing, Huggy?” Connor asked, leaning over to look at the phone screen.

At least 10 heads swiveled to look at him, and despite his attempts to remain cool, Quinn felt his face get warmer.

“Nothing,” he said, slipping his phone into his pocket.

Connor arched an eyebrow, but didn't press.

In the locker room, before putting his phone away, he sent her one last message before the game.

Miss you. Call you after.

Finally, alone in his hotel room after a hard fought win over the Hurricanes, Quinn called Sarah. It was nearly midnight in Vancouver. She might be sleeping, but he always called, even if just to leave a message.

“Hey,” she answered, voice husky and groggy.

“Hi.”

“How do you feel?”

“Better now,” he said sitting on the end of the bed, glad to be out of his suit and in his basketball shorts.

“You played so good tonight, Q.”

“Thanks,” he said. “How was your day?”

He knew he should let her go back to sleep, but he wanted to keep talking a little longer. Missing her was a physical thing to him now. An elephant in every hotel room.

“Fine,” she said before yawning loudly. “Nothing major to report.”

“Other than you sent me a video so I could hear you getting yourself off in my bed.” He tried to say it nonchalantly, but it still came out a little desperate.

She laughed. “True. That was a pretty big thing.”

“Why did you do it?” he asked. “Not that I'm complaining, but you've never done anything like this before."

Sarah rolled over, switching the phone to her other ear.

“Honestly? I'm ovulating and this morning I was so horny I couldn't concentrate on anything else. I missed you so much and your bed smells so much like you and I kept thinking, wouldn't it be hot if Quinn could hear me right now?”

He hummed.

“And then I thought, he could, technology is a thing. So I started recording and just kept thinking about you in your hotel room, getting off to the sound of me and my vibrator. And God, it was so hot. I mean, you know.”

“I don't,” he said, his voice pitched higher. He didn't even need her video. He was getting worked up right now.

“You haven't listened yet?”

“I haven't been alone.” It was the worst part of playing a team sport. He had so little time to himself.

She giggled, but it was interrupted by another yawn.

“Go back to sleep,” he said. “I'll call you tomorrow. Just wanted to say goodnight.”

“Night Quinn. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Sarah. Four more days.”

“Four more days,” she repeated. “I can't wait to see you.”

“Me either. Get some sleep now.”

“Okay,” she murmured.

Hitting the end button, he flopped back on the bed and sighed. Before Sarah had come into his life, he would have been out partying, taking in the nightlife with the prospect of a late afternoon practice the next day, and nothing to worry about in the morning. Now, it felt pointless. He wanted Sarah. He didn’t want anyone else. He never really liked hookups, even when he was younger and single - it took him too long to open up to people - but traveling away from her was harder than he had expected.

He lay there for a minute thinking of her before his curiosity and excitement got the best of him and he played the video. Setting the phone next to him, he closed his eyes. It was easy to imagine her in his bed that morning, wanting him.

“Quinn,” she moaned, “I wish you were here.”

“I wish I was too,” he groaned, running his hand up and down his length that he’d pulled out of his shorts.

She began to grunt softly. It was something she always did when she was trying to get to the right spot or angle.

His breathing began to huff.

“Do you like it, Q?”

“Yes,” he all but moaned. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was glad he’d clicked off the video earlier that day. If he’d gotten this far into it, he wasn't sure he could have stayed quiet.

Here, in the dim light of a nice hotel he didn’t remember the name of, the sound of the city all around him, Quinn let his mind focus on Sarah, imagining it was her hand on his hard cock rather than his own.

“I can’t wait to have you home, and have you inside me.”

His mind flew into a frenzy. He was never deleting this video.

She made a louder noise then, and whined, “Quinn, I’m so close.”

God, he was too.

The tell-tale sound of her coming orgasm spilled out of his phone - sheets rustling, panted breaths, little moans and mewls.

Her voice tipped high, and he knew she was riding a wave of pleasure.

He squeezed his hand, trying to get a more realistic feeling. Grunting, gutterally and deep, he spilled onto his own chest.

His breathing slowed down as he lay there, feeling his heart pound in his chest.

“I miss you, Quinn," she said before the phone went silent.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes fan fic #quinn hughes smut #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey romance

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spiderlyla · 10 months

Note

Okay I know it’s Ghost(COD) content BUT check out “rxvengxrl” on tiktok- tell me that the third most recent video (the one that says a recruit is trying to hit on Ghost) and TELL ME that isn’t something that would happen with Miguel

The reaction is so hottt and now all I can think about is that scenario but with Alchemax Miguel or something

anon single-handedly pulled me out of my writer's block. hope this is okay!

link to tiktok here!

fem!reader × alchemax scientist! miguel o'hara.

Everybody knew better than to disturb Miguel while he was at his station.

He enforced the rule of 'utmost silence' at the lab. Working in genetics required heavy concentration or else he'd have a catastrophe on his hands, something he really didn't want to happen—he had enough to worry about anyway. His colleagues knew not to approach him while he worked, even if they had a question—an intense crimson glare would be your answer if you had tried to ask anyway.

Though, the new hire wasn't really aware of the rules.

"So, Miguel," Twirling a strand of her brown hair, she leaned over the counter. Miguel had a few samples to his left that he'd pick up and observe every once in a while, writing down in papers stamped with the Alchemax logo. Official papers that he needed to fill out in silence. "Can you explain to me again how to put the samples into the centrifuge?"

Miguel was told to be patient since she's new but he knew this had nothing to do with the centrifuge. She's been here for a week, he saw her use the tool a couple of times. "You slide them in." He replied curtly, eyes not leaving the paper as he tried to recall what word he needed to write. "And it's Dr. O'Hara to you."

He wasn't the youngest PhD graduate of his university and a prodigy in genetics for her to just call him by his name.

She didn't take him seriously, evident by her giggling. "Oh, you like being called by your title, hm?" She batted her eyes at him, but again, he was far too occupied by the task in hand. "Sorry, Dr. O'Hara." The playfulness in her voice made him grunt, someone needed to interfer before he really did something that could get him reported to HR—wouldn't be the first time anyway.

She leaned over his desk, blouse popped open at the first few buttons, hand gliding over the papers and resting on his forearm. Miguel briefly looked up through the thin black frames of his glasses, just to glare at Peter, who was in charge of training her. "Say, Dr. O'Hara," The way she put emphasis on the title and his name really ticked him off. "Are you free friday night? There is a party at the nearby club and I don't have a date."

"I can't help you with that. I have dinner plans."

"Mm? with who?"

"Hey, hey, Dana—" Peter rushed to her side, she was almost climbing on the desk now. "Miguel doesn't do parties on Friday night." He tried nudging her away but she was resilient, still looking at Miguel. "Awh, so I'm gonna go all alone? He could use the fun."

"He—He has a girlfriend—Jesus, Dana, let's get back to work—"

At the mention of a partner, Dana looked around, a grin on her face. "I don't see any girlfriend around here."

"If you turn a little to the left, you'll see her."

Miguel finally looked up from his work, eyes softening at the sound of the familiar voice. The three of them looked over to you.

You stood in your usual attire. White lab coat worn over whatever outfit you chose this morning—today spesfically you wore the blue pencil skirt Miguel loved so much. In your hands were two coffee's and a familiar paper bag of the Mexican joint a few blocks away from the headquarters of Alchemax.

"In the flesh."

Dana looked at you in shock, while Peter gently tried to tug her away. Miguel's mouth twitched into a smile, and he had to force himself to look back at his work so no one could catch a glimpse of his beared fangs. "Must be the new recruit, Dana, is it?"

"Um, yeah! Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Nah, you did." A chuckle erupted out of Miguel and the three of you looked at him. He only looked up at you, the wink you shot him made his smile a little harder to conceal. "Anyways, it's lunch break, Miggy. Got us your favourite."

Dana sneered at the little nickname and finally moved away, you could both hear her grumble while Peter apologised profusly while walking towards her.

An alarm played over the speakers declaring lunchtime, and when all the scientists shuffled out of the lab, Miguel collected his stuff and walked towards you. "Miggy, hm?" He stood infront of you, the smile he'd been trying so hard to conceal finally appearing on his handsome face. "Miggy sounded more obnoxious." His hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you in for a gentle peck.

"It is. You've really outdone yourself, amor." You laughed, Miguel was kissing all over your face now. You gave him the paper bag, fingers brushing against his. "Yeah, Yeah. You're welcome, Mig. What was she even inviting you to?"

"That party the lab techs are throwing, on Friday." He paused, opening the door for you. "I told her I have plans."

"Maybe we should miss the dinner reservation and go to that party." You link your arm with his. "I have just the dress for this. Would love to show her how we dance together."

"Mi vida, behave." His attempt at sounding stern quickly failed when he saw your pout, rendering him unable to even keep the fake frown on his face. "I don't think she could handle seeing that anyway."

"Awh, you care what she can and can't handle? Cause you love her so much, Mm?"

"Ay, don't be like that. You know what I mean."

"I really don't, Miggy."

"That's Dr. O'Hara, to you."

"Mhm, okay, Dr. O'Hara. That better, sir?"

Much better, actually. So much better.

adding the taglist tommrow lol

#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #astv #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o hara #spider man atsv #spiderman into the spiderverse #miguel fanfic #miguel o' hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel spider man 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara imagine

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hachimitsu-rofu · 7 months

Text

Title: Random HCs Pairing: 「 Shikamaru x GN.Reader 」||「 Choji x GN.Reader 」「 Shino x GN.Reader 」||「 Naruto x GN.Reader 」「 Kankuro x GN.Reader 」||「 Kiba x GN.Reader 」 Plot: Some random relationship headcanons, reader is gender neutral as possible Warnings: N/A | Please notify if needed in ask format ’’’ ’’’ ’’’ Word Count: 3,087 Read Time: 11 minutes, 14 seconds ’’’ ’’’ ’’’ Author’s Note: Well I haven’t written anything in a hot moment, but here’s some headcanons I’ve had in my drafts for a while. If something needs to be tagged let me know! Anyways, please enjoy!

════════════════════════════════════════════

「 Misc. HC’s 」

Nara, Shikamaru

☀ It’s already known he would be the best nap buddy. But you know what’s even better? Is he willingly, and I mean willingly! Stays up for you when you need him or want him to. (Although he’d much rather wrap himself in a blanket with you and call it a day.) But yeah. That five hour long play you want to go to? He’s up and paying attention the WHOLE damn time. Maybe complains a little, but he’s up! You need a study buddy? Well yeah- duh, he’s gonna help you with it. Though he will probably request a kiss here and there as payment though. Sparring partner? Also yes. Although he’ll try to end the session faster just so he can reap the reward of cuddling sooner.

☀ He is faithful but uh- he still does quite a bit of rubbernecking out in those streets. Man has eyes and he will be looking. Won’t touch the displays. So that is something if you’re wondering. He doesn’t feel very bad about it either because he doesn’t think much of it- and why should he if that’s all he’s doing. It’s not like he’s his old man who was actively partaking in his window shopping.

☀ When he first introduces you to his parents his mom is excited. Finally someone other than the Nara men she had be dealing with for so long! Not that she doesn’t love them that is. But when he sees how you and her interact he knows he made a good choice in calling you his. Which just inflates his already giant ego more.

☀ He doesn’t talk about it, nor does his own father, but he does have a mild form of depression. It sneaks up on him and he doesn’t ever know what to do with it or himself. In fact it makes him more down trotted since he knows how to handle or do so much else. What he does know is that when he’s in this slump and you are beside him. He will have his face in your chest (even if you don’t have much), a hand interlocking fingers with you, and a quiet breath. In short you are a peace for him during the storm. Allowing him a momentary retrieve.

"Tsk.” Shikamaru was ready for the session to be over with already. He wanted to curl up into a ball with you in bed. Yet here he was, bent over the kotatsu table with you, helping you study for this irritating exam. He knew you didn’t really need his help even though you insisted on it. Glancing up with his charcoal black eyes, Shikamaru looked at you and sighed. He didn’t want to admit it, he liked that you wanted him around so bad- made him feel needed even if it was for something so benign. That small smile creeping up on his face that he didn’t even notice until he could feel the dimples form against his cheek.

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Akimichi, Choji

☀ He would ditch spending time with Shikamaru to hang out with you if he could. Like he likes his best friend, but you? Opfh, he loves the fact you indulge in him for all that he is and could be.

☀ Yeah sure he loves to eat and cook with you-- but do you know what else he likes to do with you? Video Games, man has bought so many co-op games just to play them with you! When you two are both able to you’ll usually end up having at least one date night that consists of all game playing! Mixed with popcorn and sodas and also a dedicated wind down movie session for when the games get too heated or you guys get burnt out. Either way you usually end it at that.

☀ He likes working with his hands. Likes being able to mess with things physically. That’s why when he finds out there’s a pottery class he takes it up and makes you some cups, plates, and little knickknacks. If you have a favorite animal he’s making it, favorite color(s) will be used as paints, like plants? Babe guess what you got a new pot! Cooking? Man be building you plates and what not.

Let him show you he loves you with whatever he can build.

☀ Please let this man do your hair. Please, oh PLEASE, let him do your hair, (If you have any that is.) You won’t be disappointed at all with the magic he can weave. Man can do all kinds of braids and styles like it’s second nature! It kind of goes along with the whole- working with his hands thing. If you got curls (Such as 4C hair for example of this) he will give you some of the best hair care he can. When it’s time to wash out those curls, man is right there either to keep you company or to do the washing for you. He’ll wash them, dry them, and even willingly stand around for those long hours putting them into box braids. He’s committed to doing them right and does still try to be nice about it. If you often wear scarves/hijabs he’s going to try and learn how to knot and tie them into some faux hairstyles. He thinks he almost has a faux mohawk style down- but it’s still rather messy. But he does try! If you sport facial hair. Man is also going to help your trim and care for that too! He’ll help you scrub your face, put in that beard oil, and brush out any knots you might have! Plus he’ll help braid them to boot! If you don’t have hair then that’s also alright. Man will instead help you with your facial routines and scalp care. (If you shave it, he doesn’t get a single nick on your head that’ s how dedicated he is!) You’ll be delighted at the care he does with putting your lotion on your face. He will sneak a kiss in though.

☀ If it’s raining he’ll try to focus on putting the umbrella on you even if you insist that he keep it on him. He doesn’t care if he gets a cold from it, he just wants you to be covered. Besides, if he gets sick maybe you’ll take care of him. ☀ If you want to give him a treat that isn’t food related then a back massage would do best for him. You’d be surprised by how tense his muscles can get.

"AH! Y/N! Guess what!” Choji announces as he practically bursts through the front door with a bright eyed smile. Holding a delicately wrapped boxed to his side, bow and all. Only to present it to you like a child on their birthday receiving a gift themselves. “Go on! Open it! Take a look!” Practically beside himself with joy as he watches you take it from him. As if seeing you happy made him happy.

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Aburame, Shino

☀ He takes his time with introducing his partner(s) to his friends and family. He wants to be secure in knowing that whoever he’s bringing around will actually stick around. So if you meet his father in a proper introduction at home with the dinner and everything. Just know, he is very serious about you and he would hope you feel the same way too.

☀ Will usually seek you out to have lunch with you when he’s able. He likes having his meals with you so you two can talk about the recent events of the day and unwind a little before getting back to it. Although if either of you are unable to, due to schedule conflicts or what not. He’ll ultimately send one of his insects to just hang around you- with your knowledge of course.

He finds tracking his partner without their knowledge to be quite a disrespectful thing to do. You should trust your partner after all.

☀ He isn’t the type to argue even with his petty instincts kicking in. He’ll only actively argue with you if the stakes are high and even then he’ll try his best not to let it get to him. He loves you and wants to handle things like adults.

☀ He will suggest you two do a class of some sort together! Just to have more quality time together despite any busy schedules either of you may have. Personally he’ll point out a sewing, knitting, or possibly some jewelry making. Just because that’s something you two could easily do at home as well! Not only that, if you do decide to make jewelry together you could always gift each other something to wear. Something you can keep on you to always know the other is there for you even when your thousands of miles apart.

☀ While he isn’t much for PDA (Public displays of affection) he still tries to keep a hand on you. This usually is touching the small of your back or hooking his pinky with yours. It’s stealthy and easy to hide, something that could be brushed off. This isn’t to say he’s embarrassed of you, he just get’s flustered easily when other’s point out his soft spot. Which is you.

Sitting under the umbrella covered garden table set, Shino fixed his usually closely held sunglasses onto his face. He was just enjoying the warmth of the spring sun on his, unusually, exposed skin. Allowing you to see the traces and trails of the small almost invisible scars of his body. It almost distracted you from noticing what was in his hands. A needle and thread, looping some beads together. The beads were in a colorful array with flowers and beetles. Looking up from his creation he caught your eyes. Smirking at you from the side of his closed lips.

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Uzumaki Naruto

☀ As we know the boy is actually good about taking care of plants! One could even say it’s a hobby of his! But what they don’t know is how many he grows just to gift to his partner. Yes, yes he grows his own favorites too. But if he knows his partner has a particular favorite- well then he is going to be growing a few bundles of them in his small apart. Just so he can have a piece of them around when they’re not available and something to gift them later when they come by. Although your smile is far more than enough of a reward for him to take in return.

☀ He’s a board game man and no one can convince me otherwise. Y’all got a closet full of them and come every Thursday night when you are both at home in the village you two will play. Sometimes you invite friends, other times it’s just you and him. It doesn’t really matter what you play together! He’s just happy to be with you.

☀ Yes, when he was younger he wasn’t the best at keeping tidy. But as he’s gotten older he’s gotten much better about it. Especially when he found out that you had a particular scent you liked to smell. It might be a little pricey but he’s going to grab the candle or the fabric softener, whatever it is. Though admittedly the first time he does this he might have gone overboard and nearly knocked himself out from the singular smell taking up the small, cramped space. After that he tried to keep it to one thing at a time. Changes it from item to item or space to space.

☀ Out of the Konoha boys Naruto is the best dancer. He knows how to move his body in tune with a beat. Combo that with his talk no jutsu and one could say he is a smooth criminal on that dance floor.

”Oooiii!” Blonde hair on end as he straightened his back out, arms crossed behind his head pulling his grey tee-shirt above his midriff only to fall and hide that golden trail once more. He had been sitting there on the cold hard floor. Papers scattered all over the small table before him. “Can’t we go get Ichiraku now? My eyes are about to fall out from all this stupid paper work.” He groaned, only to perk up and lean into the hand that found it’s way into his hair. Maybe it wasn’t so bad if it meant some affection.

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Kankuro

☀ Please let this man do your makeup. (If you do wear any of course. If you don’t, he’ll probably ask you at some point to let him try and put some on you. For practice reasons of course.) PLEASE. He’ll be so delighted, and chaotic, when you finally let him attempt it.

☀ He doesn’t look it but he is the type to find a copy of your favorite book and read it. In private of course. He doesn’t let you in on the fact that he now owns a copy, that he’s read every line that he could over and over again until he memorized it completely.

You won’t know it until he’s slipped in a line you yourself know by heart.

☀ Will puppy dog eye you with love when you’re not looking. He doesn’t even notice it. But he falls in love with you a bit more and more the longer you’re together. He’s the guy that will realize after YEARS of being with you that he loves you. That as time has passed as you two are holding hands as you walk through the market place it suddenly hits him how much you really do mean to him.

☀ While he’s not the marrying type his life and yours would be completely enwrapped in one another’s without the legality of it all. What is his is now yours. What is yours is his. You need not worry about his loyalty as he is all yours. Now if it’s that important to you he will propose and you’ll have the whole wedding and cake and what not. But just know. He doesn't want or need some silly paper to let you or others know he’s yours and you’re his. He just needs you in his home to share the good moments, the bad, and any others you’re willing to share. But also take note, his puppet will be in the front row somewhere.

☀ He likes to kiss the back of your neck when you sleep. A soft smile on his lips as he enjoys the feeling of you stirring underneath his hands. Something about the quiet of the room and you in his arms makes him so at peace. He can honestly say in those moments that he must’ve done something good to deserve you.

Kankuro tossed the water that pooled in his hands up and onto his face. Clearing up the debris of now shaven facial hair off with the leftover shaving cream he had applied earlier. Once down he grabbed the maroon colored hand towel, patting his face dry and further wiping anything off to ensure a clean canvas for his toxic face paint. “Hey dork! Hun’! BABY!” He shouted across the apartment to garner their attention. His head peaking out from the bathroom door frame to see them do the same from the living room. A look of bemusement written all over as his lips spread wide into a grin. “Chicken butt.” He snorted as they rolled their eyes and went back to what they were doing.

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Inuzuka, Kiba

☀ When he brought you home to officially meet his mom and sister. The man, well boy to them, tried so damn hard to tell them not to embarrass him in front of you. Practically threatened them not to do or say anything because he didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of you. They both chuckled and agreed. But what did he do when he brought you in? Tripped up over his own two feet and actually fell face first into a wet kibble bowl. Man is his own circus. But ultimately he is your clown.

☀ He’s a little insecure at times so watch out when he does get jealous. Because it’s a flip flop from being wildly accusative to wholeheartedly distant. Although if he see’s someone trying to hit on you. He’ll rush up right behind you, wrap an arm around you, and make it known that you and him are a serious thing. He knows it’s not attractive of him to do this. He’s gotten better about it the longer your relationship has gone on. It’s just that deep unsettling gut feeling he gets that maybe you’ll up and leave him without even a single note. Once they’re gone he becomes somber but quickly tries to pull it off by acting like the hot-headed idiot you love. He just doesn’t want to lose you.

☀ If he was a dog breed he would be a German Shepard, fierce and loyal but one of the more dramatic breeds out of the K-9 family.

☀ He and you will be getting matching necklaces. He needs it like the ring on your finger you’ll eventually be getting. Because, one might be shocked, he actually does want to settle down. Will he force you to have a wedding? Not at all, but he will be a bit heartbroken over it. It’s a big celebration of you two being together and officially tying your families into one after all. So if marriage isn’t for you he will at least ask you to wear a necklace of the Inuzuka clan marking.

"But babe!” The Inuzuka whined as he gripped his partner’s middle close to his face. Rubbing his nose into their clothes, catching their scent as he inhaled deeply and let out a loud disrupting huff. “Tsk,” His tongue clicked to his roof with an aggravated toss of his head onto their lap. Loosening his hold on them with a dramatic flair as he slipped onto the ground next to Akamaru. Who was none too please with his partner’s antics. “I want to go with you, what if someone tries to hit on you and whose gonna make you laugh like I do?” Kiba was being ever the silly dramatic at their friend’s night out. Not meaning any of it in a toxic manner, but more so to make his love chuckle.

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#naruto uzumaki x reader #naruto uzumaki x gn!reader #shikamaru nara x gn!reader #shikamaru nara x reader #choji akimichi x gn!reader #choji akimichi x reader #shino aburame x reader #shino aburame x gn!reader #kankuro x reader #kankuro x gn!reader #inuzuka kiba x reader #kiba inuzuka x gn!reader #kiba inuzuka x reader #naruto reader insert #gn!reader #naruto: shippuden reader insert #gn!reader x canon #canon x reader

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storiesforallfandoms · 9 months

Text

fluffy haired gamer boy ~ ranboo

word count: 2056

request?: yes!

“Oooo i saw you said you might write for Ranboo. I was wondering if I could request something. I've been having a rough few days and kinda just want some comfort fluff involving him if you could. You don't have to if you dont want to”

description: in which they’re a popular twitch streamer and their fans like to make jokes about their fellow gamer boyfriend

pairing: ranboo x gender neutral!reader

warnings: swearing, absolutely no plot other than fluff

masterlist (one, two, three)

(i just wanna note i started writing this before ranboo came out as nb and using he/they pronouns, for the sake of consistency and for the title i came up with beforehand i am using he/him pronouns and referring to him as “boyfriend”)

Behind every popular Twitch streamer is their fluffy haired, gamer boyfriend who brings just a sense of wholesomeness to every stream they are a part of.

I laughed at this once when it was brought up by a friend of mine as we were streaming one night.

“Not me!” I said, because I was an idiot and thought I was special. Because, at this point in time, I didn’t even have any plans on getting in a relationship. Even if I did, I wasn’t going to be public with my relationship. I was so sure that if I were to date someone, they wouldn’t be famous in the same way I was and I wouldn’t want to ruin their privacy by putting them out there for my hundreds of thousands of followers to see and harass and never leave alone.

Boy, was I ever wrong.

I met Ranboo for the first time after being invited to join the Dream SMP. I wasn’t much of a Minecraft fan and had no idea about the whole “SMP” stuff that had gotten so big on Twitch, but I decided to give it a try. Even if it was just one time to say that I did it. And I had become online friends with a few of the Dream SMP members, so I felt comfortable being brought into this world for the first time.

I don’t know what it was about him, but I was drawn to Ranboo almost immediately. I could barley form a sentence whenever I was talking to him. Every time he laughed, my heart would do a flip in my chest. As much as I wasn’t into Minecraft, I started putting up with playing it more just so I could spend time with him.

The day he messaged me asking if I wanted to call, just the two of us, no streaming and no video games, I almost jumped for joy. Quite literally.

And then, when he did call, he managed to make me feel so many emotions all at once.

“Hey,” I said when I answered his Discord call. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” he responded. Even with just the one word, I could tell something was going on.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah! Yeah, everything is fine. I just...” He took a deep breath. This seriousness was starting to worry me. “I really like you, (Y/N). I’ve been enjoying getting to talk to you when we’re gaming together, but I want to have more than that. Like...more than friendship, even. And I know that’s a lot to ask when this is our first time talking outside of streaming, but I needed to tell you.”

I was silent for just a moment, before I started to laugh. I didn’t mean to, it just happened. I think I was just so shocked by his confession that I had no idea how else to react.

“Ouch,” I heard him mutter to himself.

“No!” I said, finally regaining myself. “I’m sorry, I promise I’m not laughing at you. It’s just...I feel the same way about you. I have since we met, actually.”

We both laughed together upon realizing our similar situations.

That was the start of our relationship. We kept it a secret from our audiences for the first few months. It wasn’t hard when we lived in different states, so we weren’t physically together, and we didn’t act much different when we were playing together than we had before we started dating. The cat was let out of the bag when Ranboo came to surprise me at home, not realizing i was mid-stream when he did. We thought we could get around it by me ending the stream before anyone could see him, but unfortunately we didn’t take into account that my viewers would hear him. But, our fans were ecstatic with excitement when we finally confirmed we were together, and we were slightly relieved to not have to hide anymore.

But, with the fans finding out came the usual teasing from them. Someone found the clip of me and my friend talking about how I’ll never have a fluffy hair gamer boyfriend and started circulating it on Twitter. It became a running joke in my fandom. I couldn’t escape the damn clip.

Especially when I was streaming with Ranboo.

One night while we were streaming, my chat was just constantly filled with the quote I had said from the video.

“I’m going to shut off my chat at this rate,” I commented, only half joking.

“Why? What are they saying?” Ranboo asked.

“They’ve taken an old clip from one of my streams and made it the fandom joke. My entire chat is just them quoting the clip. It’s only, like, five seconds long, but at this rate it’s the longest five seconds of my life.”

There was no response to this. We were playing a game together, and it took me a moment to realize his character wasn’t moving either.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he responded.

“Okay, sure, I totally believe that.”

He was silent again. A quick glance to my chat gave me the answer: he was trying to find the clip on Twitter.

“Do not look up the clip!” I said, although I knew I was powerless at this point. He was in a completely different state, already in the process of looking for it on Twitter. I had no way of stopping him unless I was somehow able to get to his house hours away within a matter of seconds.

“Your viewers are so mean, they’re tagging me in tweets that include the clip,” he said, a light laugh in his voice.

I groaned and rolled my eyes.

Seconds of silence passed as Ranboo watched the video. I heard him chuckle slightly, then chuckle again as I assumed the video re-started.

“Is this what they keep quoting?” he asked.

“The part where I say I won’t be getting a fluffy hair gamer boyfriend? Yeah, that’s what my chat is full of right now.”

Well, actually, at that moment my chat was full of my viewers either apologizing over the fact that he had now seen the video, or laughing about the fact that he had. Twitch chats are the worst, let me tell you.

“How long ago was this before we met?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t even remember saying it until someone tweeted the clip at me, like, the week after we announced we were dating.”

“Someone in my chat says it was a few weeks beforehand.”

“Y’all keep track of this?!” I asked my chat in disbelief. “How do you guys know that?!”

“The date on the VOD, I’d assume.”

“Okay, but still. You guys are scary.”

I managed to get the attention back to the game, mainly because we had forgotten to pause and Ranboo’s character was getting killed. I veered away from the topic of the video and tried to keep Ranboo distracted with the game. My chat, however, was a lost cause. They were still reveling in the fact that he had finally seen the clip. It seemed that this was going to be the new thing for my viewers to spam and meme me with.

When we finished playing, Ranboo said he was going to stay streaming for a bit because he was set to play with someone else. I could feel my eyes starting to burn from the strain of looking at my computer for so long (one of, if not the biggest downsides to being a streamer) so I decided to call it a night.

“I’ll call you when I’m finished streaming?” Ranboo asked.

“Yeah! I’ll be up for another while,” I responded.

The chat filled with messages about how cute we were - both positive ones and playful disgust ones.

We ended our Discord call and I said goodbye to my chat before shutting down my stream. I rubbed my tired eyes, trying to get some moisture back into them to help with the strained feeling, before getting up from my desk.

After streaming for a long time, I tried to stay away from screens for at least an hour. This included watching anything on my TV. So I decided to make something to eat, playing some music in the background so it wasn’t so quiet in my apartment. Once I finished eating, I went to get a quick shower, and then pulled on my pajamas and got into bed to start reading. I was starting to nod off when my phone started playing the tone for a Discord call. I placed my book on my nightstand and rolled over onto my side to answer it.

“You’re done playing already?” I asked.

“It was just a few rounds of Life,” he responded. “They wanted to play something else, but I wanted to call you before you went to bed.”

“Awe,” I teased.

He laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I’m cute. I know.”

I chuckled. I shifted under the covers to settle into my bed more. I had a feeling I was going to fall asleep during the call, which usually happened. I knew Ranboo would just hang up once he realized I was asleep.

“So,” he said, “you weren’t planning to have a gamer boyfriend, huh?”

I groaned and rolled my eyes, which made him laugh. “God, I hate that clip. It was funny at first, but now everyone spams me with it as if it’s the funniest shit they’ve ever seen. Like, I get it! I ended up with the exact thing I said I wasn’t going to have!”

“It’s just so ironic. Especially that you said it weeks before we met.”

I rolled onto my back and covered my face with my hands. “I had no intentions of dating when I said it. I’ve never really had a serious relationship, and I wasn’t about to have a public one with another streamer. Twitch relationships are full of all sorts of drama. Except for Ludwig and QT, but he’s a YouTube streamer now so it doesn’t count.”

“For the record, I also wasn’t planning to be in a relationship. I especially didn’t expect to meet someone through Minecraft of all games.”

I chuckled. “Really? Are you telling me Minecraft isn’t the ideal dating site?”

“No, I prefer Club Penguin. I used to get so many bitches on there.”

We laughed together. I looked up at the ceiling and felt my eyes beginning to droop. I wouldn’t have long till I was completely passed out, but I didn’t want to end the phone call just yet. I know I was streaming with him for hours beforehand, but there was a difference between talking to Ranboo while we were streaming and talking to him personally. I didn’t want to end our personal time just yet, even though my body was screaming at me that it was time for sleep.

“I’m glad you didn’t completely close your mind to the idea of - what did they call me? A fluffy haired gamer boyfriend,” he said.

I chuckled. “Yeah, that’s the term exactly.”

“What does that even mean? Why is it so specific of a distinction?”

“Well, think of some of the people you’ve played with. Like...I don’t know...Karl. He’s a wholesome gamer boy with hair that’s considered fluffy. It’s, like, a whole genre of gamer men who aren’t toxic. That’s usually the type of person that other streamers end up with. It’s like the whole golden retreiver-black cat best friend dynamic I told you about once.”

“I still don’t understand how I’m a golden retriever.”

“You don’t have to understand, you just are.”

“Anyways,” he said, “as I was saying. I’m glad that you didn’t close your mind to the idea of a fluffy hair gamer boyfriend. Otherwise I wouldn’t have stood a chance. So, I guess there is some positives to stereotypes and whatnot.”

I sleepily smiled to myself. “I guess there’s not.”

“You sound like you’re falling asleep.”

I had lost the fight in keeping my eyes open. I was just barely registering anything Ranboo was saying to me. I tried to say something back, but it just came out as incoherent mumbling. I heard him chuckle and wish me a goodnight before I let the sleep take me over.

#ranboo #ranboo imagine #ranboo x reader #imagine #drabble #blurb #youtube imagine #youtube #twitch #twitch imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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autisticrosewilson · 6 days

Note

What do the other Wilson family members think of Jason?

I assume you're talking about in the context of him being shipped with one of them, I've shipped him with all of them at least once so I'll go down the list! Tell me if you want specifics on a particular ship or au though.

Suggestive content ahead, the Wilson's aren't exactly known for being normal sex havers

If he's dating Slade:

Grant (if he's alive) - Frothing at the mouth mad. He thought Slade was homophobic this whole time. Particularly upset it's Graysons brother. Sidenote: I don't see Slade fighting the Titans without Grant's death as a factor, so Dick would be Grant's nemesis.

Joey (if he's alive) - dating his ex boyfriends brother should be illegal. He used to babysit that little gremlin. Calling his mom to complain. Shaking crying throwing up. Keeps trying to get Jason to find someone else, anyone else.

Rose - HER EX BOYFRIEND ARE YOU BEING REAL. Betrayal on all sides. She gets over it eventually but that doesn't mean she's happy about it. Her brothers - if they're alive - being horrified by it make her warm up to it. She's a menace first and a person second. She's working closely with Dick to break it up though.

Adeline (if she's alive) - Heard about it from Joey, disappointed but not surprised. Sneers at it being a college boy, but after learning more about Red Hood she's mildly interested. She's impressed that anyone would choose to put up with Slade, but as long as he STOPS FUCKING CALLING HER she'll let it be. Could be persuaded into a threesome far, FAR in the future after a couple years with Jason has made Slade more tolerable.

Billy - smug, he TOLD Slade it would be more than just sex but no one ever listens to him. Also extremely tired, part of Slade being more tolerable is that the jobs he's willing to take slim dramatically. He gets huffy about it but he's definitely lowkey salty they haven't asked him to join yet.

If he's dating Rose -

Slade - Canonically their biggest fan. Jason has barely started flirting back with Rose before Slade is acting like he's already Jason's father in law. 50/50 on whether he's genuine or doing it to fuck with people. Shows his approval by challenging Jason to armed combat routinely and inviting him on jobs. Keeps asking when he's getting grandkids.

Grant - over protective but pretends he's not. GRAYSONS LITTLE BROTHER?!? Abhorrent. Is reluctantly bribed by Jason's cooking. Only starts warming up to Jason when he realizes that Jason is like, made of house husband stay at home dad material. Like an hour into a house call informed him that Jason is so hopelessly in love with Rose it's almost pathetic.

Joey - FUCKING FINALLY!! He's been here since day one, plotting, scheming. Carefully manufactured scenarios for them to spend more time together. Best man at the wedding, he wrestled Grant on the ground for it. Video called Dick with TEARS IN HIS EYES to tell him the news.

Billy - Normal father in law. Takes Jason on fishing and hunting trips. Reconnected with Alfred at the wedding and they're both ecstatic. You'd think it would be Slade who'd be gunning for the number one grandpa title and you'd be wrong, Billy is clawing his way to the top of that list.

Addie - Who? What? Oh. Fine. Reluctantly showed up to the wedding. Admittedly charmed by their dynamic. Mildly jealous at the sight of a non failing marriage but she's got enough self awareness not to be upset over it. Leaves the best gift by far, and she does end up trading recipes with Alfred by the end of the night.

If he's dating Grant:

Slade - Not exactly mad, but he is annoyed. He rolls his eyes but looks away when Red X is chasing the second Robin around Gotham, but he draws the LINE at his son giving up mercenary work to be Red Hood's lieutenant. Especially because it looks,,, serious, and serious means he'll be related to the bat sooner rather than later. 98% sure they're doing it to upset him specifically (he's wrong it's only like 25% for that)

Joey - In counter to Dick and Rose, he's actually pretty supportive. He thinks it's cute and he's glad that Grant has a good influence, but he'll be near the front of the line if Grant fucks it up. He's not as supportive about the pining stage they go through, mostly because he's the first person Grant laments to.

Rose - her bestie dating her BROTHER. Disgusted, betrayed, plotting their downfall. Absolutely thinks Jason can do better. She comes around to it faster than Dick only when she's entirely sure she can't do anything about it. Still bullies them both though.

Addie - Well. There are worse options. The real bonus here is her newfound connection with Talia. World's most controlling mother in law, loves Jason like one of her own sons though. Unfortunately that means he gets treated just like her other sons... Quality of the treatment is debatable.

If he's dating Joey -

Slade - Definitely the most upset in this scenario. That's undeniably his favorite kid and Jason... isn't the kind of person he thinks is good enough. Not that he thinks anyone would be. He doesn't go out of his way to drive Jason away per se, but he does put him through the most vigorous "tests". Begrudgingly respects Jason for passing most of them with flying colors.

Addie - Mother hen in law. Planning the wedding since day ONE. What's the equivalent of like, a sister in law but for the mom's of the spouses? Is that a thing? Regardless, she gets very close with Talia very quickly. Bruce Wayne's third biggest hater, she makes his life HELL.

Rose - Better than Grant. Still not happy, but she accepts it more easily. Maid of honor but she swears up and down they're cringe and she hates it. Complains to Dick about it but they're both secretly fond.

Billy - Never booking a hotel without soundproof walls with them again.

#dc #jason todd #slade wilson #SladeJay #rose wilson #Jayrose #Grant Wilson #JayGrant #joey wilson #JoeyJay #Adeline Kane #william randolph wintergreen #ask

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rc-writes · 1 year

Note

Hiiiii, I like the design of your blog ✨

I don't know if you can write an imagine about Garfield Logan x reader (fem). Where they have an embarrassing but adorable moment when they try to have their first kiss.

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 "𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞"? ?

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 | 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢

pairings: garfield logan x fem!reader

warnings: I think there's a curse word or two, reader is mentioned to also be a titan living in the tower, possibly a grammar mistake here or there (please let me know if you see any)

a/n: hi!! thank you! it took so long to format everything so i'm glad to see people actually like it! and thank you for being the first person i don't know to send a request in! i originally was going to make this a "three times they were interrupted and the one time they didn't" type of thing but i kinda got carried away and when i thought of the ending to this i just had to write it this way. but i do still have an idea for my original thought if you or anyone else would like a part 2. but anyways, i hope you like this!

Living in the Titans Tower and being a Titan made for an interesting and busy life. Besides having to go on life threatening missions every other day it was also nearly impossible to have alone time. Despite there only being a handful of people living there, there always seemed to be at least one person in every single room on every single floor.

Want to have a midnight snack alone at 3am? You end up scaring the shit out of another member of the team and vice versa because they too wanted a midnight snack.

What to have a training session by yourself because you want to train without being watched? Sorry someone’s already gotten there first and do not plan on leaving anytime soon.

Want to take a peaceful nap after a long day of training? Almost impossible with the sound of a video game blaring from down the hall.

So safe to say that when you and Gar started dating it was almost impossible to have a date night within the tower. It was also almost impossible to have a date night outside of the tower as well when you were both crime fighting vigilantes. You guys tried to spend the day at the nearby park before but a not so accidently gas leak in the city’s main electrical building cut it short.

This was why you and Gar opted for just staying in the tower and spending a day in your room.

At first it was a little awkward. Gar had been in your room countless times before, but with the new titles of boyfriend/girlfriend over your heads there seems to be a new pressure to be perfect. Gar was so nervous to overstep you had to be the one to tell him it was alright to sit down because he stood awkwardly in the doorway for the first two minutes of you two talking.

Eventually you two settled on making different kinds of bracelets. Possibly a bit of an odd thing to do on a “date” but it gave you two something to do and allowed for talking to still happen.

“Uh, I don’t think I did this right.” Gar sheepishly smiled as he held up a bracelet he was making that looked more like a giant knot than anything.

You giggled at his poor attempt at making a rope bracelet and moved closer to help. Now you were sitting side by side instead of across from each other. “Here let me help.” You said as you grabbed your own two strings of yarn. “First fold the blue yard in half and make a loop, then fold the pink and put it through the loop…”

You continued to give a detailed instruction on how to make the perfect rope bracelet but Gar didn’t hear anything past the second sentence. He was too busy watching every slight move your face made as you talked. From the slight smile you held as you began explaining, to the way your eyebrows knitted together in concentration, and to the way your eyes lit up when you finally finished the bracelet, he noticed it all. He couldn’t believe the girl sitting next to him even wanted to be his friend let alone boyfriend.

“Gar?” You asked when he didn’t say anything after you finished the bracelet. “Did you get any of that?”

Still slightly dazed, Gar said the first thing that came to mind, “You’re really cute when you’re all concentrated.” It took approximately 2 seconds for him to realize he said that out loud. And when he did come to he shifted his gaze from you in slight embarrassment, face most definitely completely red already. He wholeheartedly meant what he said but didn’t mean for it to come out so straight forward all of a sudden.

You also felt a blush creeping up your face at the same time a toothy grin did. There was Garfielf Logan calling you cute when he sat there, tangled mess of yarn still in hand, with the shyest adorable look you’d ever seen. You reached out with one hand to turn his face back towards you. “I personally think you’re cuter.”

Now it was his turn to have the biggest smile on his face. It wasn’t the first time you had called him cute but he’d pay big time for you to never stop saying it. He too reach a hand out to hold the side of your face.

Now you both stared into each other’s eyes, barely inches apart. For a few seconds you both just stared at each other’s faces before both of you started to lean forward. This was it, you both were finally about to-

“Hey Y/n, did you happen to know where Kory went?” Rachel suddenly burst through the door without knocking, sending you and Gar away from each other as quickly as possible. By the way you two moved so fast and Gar nearly fell off the bed it wasn’t hard for Rachel to figure out what she just interrupted. “Sorry, I’ll just go ask if Dick knows.” And as quickly as she came in, she went out.

For a moment you and Gar looked back and forth from each other to the door a few times before both bursting into laughter. The initial reaction was to feel incredibly embarrassed at what just happened but from the look on Rachel’s face it seemed like she was the most embarrassed and the whole ordeal was just too funny to not laugh.

“It truly is impossible to have alone time in this place, huh?” You asked once you gained control of your laughter.

“Unfortunately.” Gar responded, letting one more laugh out.

You reached for two strings of yard nearest to you, “So did you want me to re-explain bracelet making to you?”

Gar began to shift closer to you again. “In a second, I want to do one thing before.”

“What-” He didn’t let you finish your question before fully leaning in and kissing you. It was a very quick kiss, you didn’t even have time to process what was happening and kiss back before he leaned away again.

“Alright now you can teach me.”

#dc titans #titans #titans imagine #titans x reader #garfield logan #garfield logan imagine #garfield logan x reader #beast boy #beast boy imagine #dc

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soullumii · 1 year

Note

can i request video game Joel miller giving his wife a cat for christmas? like i cant see him as a cat person and i imagine the days prior he’s keeping the cat hidden and taking care of it reader is like “are those fucking scratches???” and hes like “um… no lol what are you talking about…” and I thought itd be cute and funny cus hes so eager to make her happy

cat scratch fever | joel miller x f!reader

this is so damn cute. imagining joel with a cat is such a silly and adorable image. i didn't know if u wanted outbreak universe or modern so i kind of just went with my gut LOL... i hope this is okay <3. fluff, modern au, married. tried to keep this short and sweet {1.7k}

“What’s that?” You asked, eyebrows knitted in concern as you gestured to the thin scratches on Joel’s hand with your chopsticks.

The two of you were sitting at the dinner table eating the takeout you had bought from a local Chinese place. Christmas Eve dinner. It’s a tradition.

Joel hummed, tilting his wrist, his watch blinking in the candlelight. His hand was covered in scratches from the kitten he had been so dutifully hiding from you for the past three days.

Joel had never been much of a cat person, dogs had always seemed to speak to him more. They were wide eyed and ready to do whatever you asked, while cats were much more independent. Feisty. They did what they wanted, when they wanted.

In a way, they reminded him of you. His fireball of a wife.

And you loved cats. Always showing Joel videos on your phone of cute cats, tearing up instantly any time the two of you saw a stray on the streets, to which you fed it whatever you had on you. And if you didn’t have anything on you, you’d crouch down, profusely apologizing to it as if that’d be a suitable replacement to a real meal. As if it could understand you.

Joel always carefully tugged you along when you got like that, and gently refused you when you begged to bring it home.

Not because he was an ass or anything… It’s just…the fleas on that thing! Who knows what diseases it could have? And the expenses…it’s a lot to worry about.

But you’re coming up on seven years together, and the two of you had finally reached a state of economic stability and owned a home together.

So, when Joel was out in the city one day running errands for a new renovation project under his contracting company, he didn’t refuse the stray kitten that had scrambled after him from seemingly out of nowhere. An orange one, with big green eyes and the pointiest little tail that flopped with each bound of its little legs.

It was damn cute. He’d never seen anything that fucking adorable. Besides you, maybe.

Joel was not usually very weak to the charms of cats, but this one reminded him of you somehow. The way you’d follow him with an excitement he’d never seen in anyone else before. You loved unconditionally, and while that was a trait Joel often saw in dogs, the little kitten following after him seemed to possess a similar quality without even having known him.

So he snatched that little sucker up and texted you he’d be home a little bit late so he could take it to the vet for shots and buy some supplies. He’d been keeping it in the guest bedroom that you refused to go into, claiming it was “haunted”, ever since.

And let it be known that it’s incredibly difficult to keep a cat from a very intuitive (nosy) person like yourself.

Still, he’d been managing pretty well.

“It’s nothin’,” Joel said. “I just scraped myself with a plank of wood at work.”

It’s a very believable lie. He’d done that plenty of times. Contractor things.

“Those look deep, though. You don’t have splinters do you?” You asked, reaching for his hand to scrutinize it. Shifting right into concerned wife territory.

He threaded your fingers together and titled his head to catch your eyes. “Sweetheart I’m fine, I promise.”

You squeezed his hand. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

You gave him a mild smile, returning to your lo mein. “So, I heard some weird sounds today.”

Joel’s pulse spiked. He roughly swallowed down a dumpling. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “It was weird. Like, high pitched and squeaky. Coming from,” you sent a wary glance down the hallway before leaning in close to whisper, “the guest room. I’m telling you it’s haunted.”

Joel bit back a smile. “Baby, it ain’t haunted. But I’ll go check it out tonight for ya. Maybe it was a rat or somethin’.”

“A murderous rat,” you said, seriously. “That murdered the man that lived here before. And his ghost now haunts that room.”

“Honey, we met the man that lived here before us.”

“Doesn’t mean there couldn’t have been another guy living with him that was brutally murdered by the rat.”

“You’ve been watchin’ too much true crime.”

You shrug, taking a bite of lo mein. “You can never watch too much true crime.”

After dinner, Joel kept his promise and stopped in the guest room to investigate the ‘killer rat’ while you got comfortable in bed.

“Be safe,” you had whispered soberly to him, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“You are ridiculous, but I love you,” he whispered back.

"I love you, too."

Joel carefully opened the door enough so he could slip in without the kitten escaping, but he didn’t have to worry. The little orange fur ball was curled into a shape reminiscent of a croissant in the middle of the bed, and when Joel entered, its head lifted up, green eyes blinking sleepily up at him.

“Shit, how are you so damn cute?” Joel murmured, settling down on the bed to pet the kitten. His hand practically engulfed the tiny little thing, and he picked it up gently, tucking it in his arms.

“My wife is gonna love you,” he said, kissing its head. It started purring, a loud rumbling sound that for sure could not come out of a kitten. And yet, it was. “I’m pretty sure I love you.”

It nuzzled its little head into the crook of his elbow, and Joel was hooked right then. Any past bad experiences with cats were forgotten. Friendship ended with dogs, cats were his new best friend.

He sprinkled some more food into its bowl, told it to be a bit quieter, and promised he’d be back tomorrow before he found his place in bed next to you again.

You turned to him under the sheets, cheek squished against the pillow as your hand found his bare, hair-dusted chest. “Was it a rat?”

Joel angled his head to press a kiss to your hair. “Didn’t find anythin’. It must’ve been the AC makin' noise.”

You sighed in relief. “Good.”

“You don’t really believe a rat murdered a man there, right?”

“No. But I still think it’s haunted. It’s just a hunch.”

“I’ll protect you if you end up being right.”

“Well I’m always right, so I’ll be looking forward to seeing you sexily protecting me.”

Not right this time, he thought to himself, and was proud you hadn’t managed to find out about your surprise.

He chuckled, and leaned down to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “Merry Christmas Eve, darlin’.”

You smiled. “Merry Christmas Eve, Joel.”

—

Joel woke you with soft kisses to the back of your neck, his body wrapped around yours, his hand heavy and warm over your stomach.

You looked over your shoulder at him with sleepy eyes. “Merry Christmas.”

He kissed you gently. “Merry Christmas.”

And then he was out of bed almost in an instant. “Ready to open your present?”

You laid there for a second in stunned silence before a light, disbelieving laugh bubbled out of you. “Jeez, someone’s excited. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get out of bed so fast.”

“I just think I did good this year,” he tapped the doorknob anxiously.

“You do good every year.” You quirked a brow. “What is going on with you? You’ve been so jumpy these past couple of days. Did something happen?”

"Everythin' is just fine,” Joel insisted, coming forward to press his lips to yours again, his hands framing your face. “I’m just nervous about your Christmas present, that’s all.”

“If you didn’t get me anything I wouldn’t care, you know?” You said. “I love just being with you. I mean, at long as you at least got me flowers or something.”

“I got you more than flowers. C’mon.”

“Okay, okay.”

You followed Joel to the living room, and he made you both coffee before setting you down on the couch.

“I’ll be right back.”

Joel nervously made his way to the guest room, grabbing the decorated box he had poked holes in and had set the kitten inside this morning while you were still asleep before he snuck back into bed.

He opened the lid. The kitten stared up at him and mewled. Yup, still alive. Thank god.

Joel reentered the living room with the box. You made grabby hands at him, grinning with amusement as he carefully set it in your lap.

“This better not be anything too expensive,” you said, reaching for the lid.

Joel shrugged. “Practically got it for nothin’.”

“Well, now I’m concerned.”

“Just open it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and lifted the lid, and Joel’s entire body flooded with a relieved warmth the moment you registered what was staring back at you, quelling the anxious jitters he had been dealing with the entire night before and into the morning.

Your curious gaze melted into a look of pure shock, your wide eyes immediately starting to swim with tears as a high pitched oh my god, Joel left your lips.

You carefully took the kitten out of the box, holding it tight to you as a sob escaped you. And then you were fully crying fat, wet tears. Panic struck him in the chest, and he hurried to sit down next to you on the couch.

“Do you not like him? We can give him away, please don’t cry, honey-”

“No no! I’m just so happy,” you said through tears and Joel relaxed. “I love him. I can't believe you got me a kitten. I thought you didn’t like cats?”

“This one changed my mind,” he explained, petting the little creature. “His claws are goddamn sharp though.”

You elbowed him. “I knew those scratches looked cat-like.”

“Wouldn’t have been a surprise if I told ya.”

“Yeah yeah.”

You maneuvered the cat to look him straight in the eyes. He wriggled in your hands. “Did you scratch up daddy’s hand? You’re a little stinker but god you’re so fucking cute!” You squealed, pressing the kitten’s head to your lips to pepper hundreds of kisses on it.

Joel’s hand snaked around your waist. “What’re you gonna name ‘em?”

You didn’t even hesitate, mumbling against his marigold fur. “Pretzel.”

“Pretzel?” Joel huffed in amusement.

“I’ve always wanted to name a cat that,” you defended, holding Pretzel up to fawn over him again. His purr loudly echoed through the living room.

“Alright then. Welcome to the Miller family, Pretzel.”

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #game joel miller #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us #requests #drabble

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the1975attheirverybest · 1 year

Text

Video Games

A/N: Based on this request:

I'd like angst to soft Matty if you could 🥺 Like he is angry at the beginning and scary, but she Has a terrible day, something terrible happened that he didn't know, when he finds out he is really sorry and soft ect <3 idk about the plot just something like this only if you feel like it of course

Warnings: Angst to fluff

---

Jamie and George exchanged a look. A look that Matty knew very well. A look that said "do you wanna handle this, or should I?" He rolled his eyes. "don't patronize me!"

Jamie decided that this fell under his job title. "Matty-"

"I just feel like you guys aren't listening." Matty repeated the same sentence he'd been saying in various iterations for the last twenty minutes.

"We're listening, mate" Adam spoke, from the far corner of the room, in a conciliatory tone.

"Let's put it to a vote." Jamie looked around the room for the guys' support.

"We don't do that, Jamie-"

"You don't do that for band stuff. This is label stuff, Matty."

"Well, then, the only people who should be voting on this are me, you, and George. We're the co-producers and you're gonna sort it out." Matty's voiced betrayed his emotional state a bit more than he would've liked.

Ross and Adam nodded, putting their hands up in surrender to assure him that they were no threat to this democratic process. They knew that Matty wasn't trying to exclude them, he was just simplifying matters, hoping that it was him and George against Jamie. He was about to find out how wrong he was.

"Alright," Jamie declared. "By show of hands, all in favor of moving with this contract today?"

Matty watched in shock as George's hand went up.

"George! What the fuck is the matter-"

"Matty, shut the fuck up and listen for a second!" George, finally having had enough, interrupted him. "I know you want to produce their record.

"And you don't?"

"Mate, I said shut the fuck up. Listen, I would love to work with them. They seem cool and fresh and I think they'd bring a lot to the table sonically. But, you're thinking like a producer right now-"

"How else am I supposed to think when production-"

"Like an artist, Matty! Like the frontman of the 1975 like around 2013."

Matty was finally all out of words, he simply crossed his brows, slowly realizing George's point.

"remember when all these labels suddenly wanted to work with us? and they'd come to us with offers and contracts, and what would you say to them?"

"To go fuck themselves."

"Exactly. Put yourself in these young kids' shoes, man. They're 19 and 20, or whatever. They want to make good music, they're excited. And they want to protect their artistic identity. If they need our help, they'll ask for it."

Matty was silent for a long minute while George and Jamie's eyes watched his body loosen, gradually. "Whatever," he finally mumbled, waving them off dismissively. "Do what you want" He got out of his seat heading straight to the door.

"Matty, where're you going? we need your signature."

"Smoke."

Jamie watched Matty leave with his cigarette packet and his lighter still on the table. "bro-" he attempted to call after him. "He's not really going for a smoke, is he?"

George smiled. "It's all good. I'll sign on his behalf."

***

In the parking lot, Matty searched the pockets of his jacket for a lighter and a pack of cigarettes and realized he'd left them upstairs. "fuck's shakes." he muttered to himself, unlocking the car door and driving to the nearest smoke shop.

As he put out the end of his cigarette on the sidewalk, he spotted a coffee shop across the street and made his way over for a cup of coffee and a pastry that he could count as lunch. He'd hardly made it out of the shop, though, before a flustered guy, rushing from the other side of the street ran straight into him and spilled the piping hot cup of coffee all over Matty's shirt, causing him to drop his "lunch"

"FUCK ME!" Matty yelled out instantly taking off his leather jacket and unbuttoning his short to prevent any burns. "Thanks, bro! Really fuckin polite of you" he called after the guy who didn't even stop for an apology.In his haste to undress in the middle of the street to avoid a visit to the hospital, Matty hadn't realized that the phone in his hand had absorbed some of the splash, as well.

He searched the back of his car for a gym bag, an old tee, anything at all that he could put on for the rest of the day, but there was no clothing to be found anywhere. He rested his head on the steering wheel, mumbling a string of profanities to let out some of his frustration. He could really use a drink right now. Maybe something to eat, too. Showing up at a bar without a shirt on might not be the best idea, though. He needed to head home immediately. Music is probably the only thing that would help in this moment. So, he dug into his pocket to retrieve his phone and was stunned to see that it was effectively fried.

"FUUUCCCKKKK!!!" He screamed out in the confines of his car.

***

Matty let out a long, drawn out sigh as he walked into his home, pushing the door shut behind him and turning the lights on in the entry way.

"Oh thank god!"

His eyes had barely adjusted to the light when he saw the outlines of her silhouette before she'd lunged forward and hugged him tightly.

"I- I'm so glad you're home." She traced down the sides of his body as if to make sure all the pieces were in place. And once she'd made he wasn't looking like he'd been in mortal danger, her anger set in. "Where the fuck have you been??? It's late! Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"N-no, actually, cuz I-"

"I called your phone. Over and over! It kept going to voicemail!"

"Yes, well, see-"

"So, then, I called the DH, and you weren't there either! Talked to George, too. He said they hadn't seen you since you left for a smoke at 11 am! I was terrified that something'd happened to you."

Her high-pitched, endless admonishments were giving him a headache. His heart was racing. He felt claustrophobic. Like she'd trapped him into a box of her disappointment. She wasn't even letting him get a word in. To explain, to tell her about the day that he'd had. that he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. That he'd been driving around without a GPS, trying to find someone who'd fix his phone in less than 24 hours. She hadn't even brought up his missing shirt yet. he just needs a fuckin minute to breathe.

He left her there, standing in the entryway, yelling at the place he was standing, and walked into the living room.

"Matty, I'm talking to you!"

He walked over to the TV station, turning on the screen and reaching for the playstation controllers.

"Are you fuckin kidding me right now???" she shook her head in disbelief. "Why are you half naked? Where's your shirt? where have you been all day and why is your phone off? why haven't the guys heard from you? They said they were waiting on you to show up at-"

"Shut the fuck up, darlin, would ya? Please. shut up for one fuckin second and leave me the fuck alone!"

She was stunned into silence. His words echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls and lingering in the air. "w-what did you just say to me?" she whispered.

"I said shut the fuck up, alright? I'm here, aren't I? I'm home, so, obviously, I'm fine."

She shook her head, a laugh of disbelief leaving her lips. "You might be here, but...you're obviously not fine..."

"Well, I just don't want to talk about it, okay? I don't want to talk. I just- don't!"

silently, she walked away from him, heading up the stairs and into the guest bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Alone in the living room, Matty tossed the controller onto the couch and punched a throw pillow, tears running down his face.

***

She had no idea how long it'd been since she'd laid in the guest bed or how long she'd cried in the dark before eventually falling asleep. But she awoke to the sound of the door creaking open. From the lights in the hallway, she could see the outlines of Matty's curls and face, peering in.

"May I- umm" he was too embarrassed to look her in the eyes.

"Come in, Matty." she smiled, sitting up in the bed to make room for him.

As he walked in, she realized he'd brought something with him. She reached over to the nightstand and turned the lamp on. She could now see that he'd changed into a band tee and some joggers, and that he appeared to be holding the playstation in his hands.

He set the wires, controllers, and games on the bed and climbed on next to her.

"I'm so sorry, my love." Matty's hand reached for her face and caressed her cheek. "I'm so sorry. I'm a dickhead. A monster. I never should've- I- never should've raised my voice. Never should've been cruel and unkind. I- you don't deserve the way that I treated you."

"You're right." she simply said, placing her hand over his.

"Matty, what's going on?"

"N-nothin,' just- having a weird day. Which isn't an excuse to speak to you like I did. I'm awful. I know."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No, not really. Not right now. My head feels fucked up still. But I know what I did was wrong, and I want to apologize."

"No, no. Not right now, Matty." Her tone was firm, but the gentle touch to his face made him melt. "When you're ready, later, once we've talked it through, you can apologize properly. We can talk it out. Right now...Let's just....sit here together, yeah?"

He nodded, feeling ashamed but grateful.

"what's all this?" she pointed to the playstation.

"Video games. Wanna play with me?"

She chuckled, he heart softening towards him already. "Sure, show me what our options are."

#matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #matty healy fluff #matty healy angst

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 year

Text

Spitfire | iii

Jake still can’t seem to get the girl from the bar off his mind, even after his time in Baltimore was long forgotten to everyone else. He spends his free time getting to know her, realizing quickly that she’s everything he’s dreamed of. She makes fast at showing him that not everyone is interested in him solely for the fame, but he’s still puzzled at how she pushed him to the brink of falling in love with her in only a mere few weeks.

Read part two here

Read part four here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: university exams/exam season (🤢), drinking, smoking (weed & cigarettes), long distance, annoying brotherly activities, fluff, mentions of provocative text messages, not really a whole lot w this one, but sorry if i missed any!

hi! here’s part three :) this is mostly a filler to advance to the main story, but i wanted to throw in some long distance fluffiness because i love hurting my own feelings! lots of dialogue to set the scene/relationship/emotion. as always, enjoy, and please be kind and ignore any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻🫶🏻 also disclaimer I am no longer a science student at university so some of the science-y stuff may not be perfectly accurate, no hate pls

An incoming call shook you from your focus, your eyes quickly darting down at your phone to see who it was from. You removed your glasses for a moment, rubbing your eyes to wake yourself up. When you put them back on, you noticed that Jake was the one causing the disturbance. A small smile crossed your lips as you picked your phone up, swiping across the screen to accept the video call. His face appeared after a few seconds, a beaming grin plastered on his cheeks. His hair was damp, likely from him showering after the concert he’d just had. A few hours earlier, he promised he’d call when he got back to the hotel, and it wasn’t like Jake to forget a promise.

“Hello, beautiful.” He said before you had a chance to greet him. You let out a small laugh, clicking the lamp on that was sitting on your computer desk. You placed your phone against the screen of your laptop, propping it up so you didn’t have to hold it.

“Hello, handsome.” You greeted back. “But, I am far from beautiful right about now.” You dismissed him, taking your hair down from its messy bun and putting it back up, neater this time. “I think this paper is going to kill me.” You truly meant it. You were in the midst of writing your final thesis paper for your undergraduate degree. After doing a research credit all year long, the paper proved the most difficult of the whole process.

“I think you’re going to ace it.” He said, taking a seat on the hotel bed. “What’s it on, anyway? You never actually told me.” He was right; you’d been working on it the entire time you’d known him, but never dived into the specifics with him, too afraid of talking his ear off about your year-long journey.

“Um,” you gave a small chuckle, pulling out your draft report. “The study of blood-glucose measurement based on blood resistivity.” You muttered the title before tossing the book of paper back down. His eyes widened a bit, trying to process what you were saying, but he covered it up quickly with a supportive nod.

“I love it when you talk science to me.” He sighed, a note of humour radiating from him. You let out a giggle, happy he’d called to ease the tension between you and your work. “But, you know, could you give me a refresher on what exactly that means?” He asked, leaning back against his headboard. You noticed he was shirtless, feeling a small flutter in your stomach at the sight.

“You mean to tell me you can’t tell me all about a diabetic study based off voltage and curve fitting?” You asked, an incredulous look in your eye. He laughed, giving a shrug.

“I’m a bit rusty.” You admired his features, how beautiful he looked when he was happy. You also noticed he looked tired himself, his eyes drooping slightly.

“I’ve been doing a research credit for my degree. I read a study about something similar way back in high school and it stuck with me, because my father’s side of the family struggles with diabetes. My dad and two of my brothers have Type 1. I decided to take a deeper look into it for my thesis.” You explained. He gave you his full attention, humming an agreement to assure you he was listening. “But basically what I’m doing is experimenting to see if we can measure a persons blood-sugar level in a non-invasive way. I studied pulses with electrodes and compared the voltage to different blood-sugar levels on a curve to see if it’s a suitable way to calculate it.”

“Did it work?” He asked, genuinely intrigued.

“Well, sort of.” You scratched your head, furrowing your eyebrows slightly, trying to find the best way to explain it. “There’s definitely a correlation, and I think if it was studied further, it could genuinely get somewhere. It would be pretty cool if it did. Blood-sugar level tests are extremely troublesome in general. They take time, they’re painful, and super expensive in the long run. I know my family spent thousands of dollars on Will and Sam when they were kids, and we had good insurance. It was really interesting to look at. I’m glad I picked it, but almost seven months of study is a lot to compile into one report.” You chuckled. “It’s required to be 40-60 pages long.”

“I think you’re a genius,” he said as a matter-of-fact “and I know that whatever you put down on that paper is going to be fantastic.” He assured you. You gave him a smile, appreciating his words.

“I can only be so much of a genius with a recycled idea,” you reminded, sitting up in your chair. “But I’m almost done the bulk of the work now, so I can forget about it soon enough.”

“When is it due?” He questioned.

“Friday.” You sighed, looking at your calendar. “Three days to go and I’m officially done.”

“See? That’s not so bad. I’ll read it when you’re finished and tell you how amazing it is. I probably won’t understand any of it, but I do know how to give you a compliment.” He flashed the smile that you’d been missing so much. And he was right, he sure did know how to compliment you. It was his favourite pastime, even when you looked as run down as you did in that moment.

“And I would be more than delighted to share it with you.” You watched him again, more interested in him than you’d ever been in your schoolwork. “Anyway, enough about me. How’d your show go, rockstar?”

“I don’t think I can ever get enough of you,” the cheesy line was accompanied by a goofier grin. You rolled your eyes, both of you knowing you weren’t really annoyed with him. “It was good. The crowds are always amazing. We played really well, but I am tired though.”

“Of course you are; it’s hard work to put on a good show.” You sympathized. You could tell how much he loved what he did, but he was always exhausted when he called you at night, which was a common occurrence. He’d been gone for almost two weeks, now, and if he absolutely could not call you during the day, he texted as much as he could. Communication was never ceased, in turn, never leaving you wondering if he meant everything he’d told you. It only took him the length of the plane ride to use your number after he left, claiming he didn’t stop thinking of you once while he was flying away from you. Now, the end of your semester was quickly approaching, which meant the end of your bachelor studies as well.

The day you’d so conveniently ran into him at the coffee shop had sparked a beautifully blossoming relationship. That evening, both went back to your house, where he’d met your roommates (well, officially, at least) and you all had dinner together. You’d given him the house tour he’d been so eager for, and eventually you went back to his hotel with him. Much to everyone’s disbelief, it was completely PG the whole night, aside from a few kisses. You’d met his brothers, spent some time with them and were lucky enough to get to know them, even if it wasn’t much past the surface level. You and Jake spent the night talking, listening to music and really getting past the superficialities.

Not once did he make an advance, proving to you even further that he meant what he’d told you. You shared a bed with him night, falling asleep wrapped in each others arms with no intent for sex or any other hidden implications. It was something you’d never experienced before. When you woke, you got breakfast together. You went with him to the airport to see him off, and he’d kissed you. That’s where the intimacy ended. Now, you had to see him through a phone screen or a camera, always aching to be held by him again. It was the most peace you’d ever known from another person.

You were still nervous, finding it hard to integrate another person into your daily routine in such a way, but the process was made so much easier because of the type of person he was. He was understanding of your timidity, always kind and gentle, he was quick with his words and they were always sweet, and he was gorgeous. Making Jake a part of your every day life had been easier than anything you’d ever done. Nothing was official; it was mostly just phone calls and texting, even if it was constant. A lot of it was innocent, asking about each others days, or mindless chatter that you would never bother to share with anyone else. No matter what you had to say, he always seemed to want to listen. Occasionally, the flirting would take over. He was usually very respectful, he didn’t like to initiate until he knew you were okay with it, but every now and then, he’d send a risky text or picture first. Nothing too graphic, just enough to let you know he was thinking about you. You’d never admit it, but they were some of your favourite texts to receive. Sometimes you would send one first, particularly when it was a bad time for him, just to be an asshole.

You were still processing the entire situation. You’d never been in a relationship or a ‘situationship’, as some say, without it starting with sex, or at least the intent of only having sex. It was nice, knowing him so well before he knew you so intimately. The emotional intimacy felt way nicer than any physical gratification you could imagine. You felt yourself really falling for Jake, despite being so evasive of the idea when you first met him. You truly felt like he was someone you could love, or he was someone who could love you like you’d always wanted.

“When is your ceremony?” He asked. Your eyes shot up to the screen, breaking out of your thoughts.

“Uh, what, sorry?” You cleared your throat, feeling a bit embarrassed for zoning out.

“Your graduation ceremony?” He asked again, not bothered by having to repeat himself.

“Oh,” you looked at your calendar again, eyes tracking the days. There was a big red circle with the word ‘freedom’ scribbled in it. You chuckled to yourself, remembering when Eve had written it. She was over the moon for you when you submitted your credits for review to graduate. She was taking her degree slow, likely to finish in five years rather than four. Knowing that you would still be there with her while she finished, or that she wouldn’t have to leave you behind when she moved away, made both of you relieved beyond measure. “The 24th.” You clarified.

“I have a show that day.” His voice was sad. You felt a bit of disappointment at his words, but you understood. Besides, you’d only known him for a couple weeks; you couldn’t expect him to drop everything to go to your graduation when he barely knew you.

“That’s okay.” You assured him. “I didn’t expect you to go anyway.” You realized how harsh your words sounded after they came out. A solemn look fell across his features. “No, Jake, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” You rushed out. “I just meant that we’ve only been talking for a few weeks. I would never expect you to drop your whole life to come and see my ceremony.”

“You say that like you’re not important to me.” He said, fidgeting with something behind the screen.

“I know I am, Jake.” You assured him. “And you’re important to me, too. I just know that life is busy. Especially for you, rockstar.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Maybe Eve will be generous enough to do a video call with me.” He suggested. You nodded, thinking that wasn’t a bad idea at all.

“I’ll have to ask her, but I’m sure she would. I think she likes you.” He let out a small laugh.

“Well that’s good, I guess.” His attention was disrupted by a knock on his door. “Hold on,” he mumbled, getting out of the bed. He continued holding the phone, not wanting to miss a moment of time talking to you. You heard his hotel door open, only being able to see his shoulder on the camera.

“Hello, brother.” You heard a voice say. You could recognize it as Josh’s. He’d joined your calls a fair few times over the last few weeks, just the same as Danny and Sam. You were slowly getting to know all of the boys, which was really making you feel like Jake was serious about this whole thing. “Care to partake?” You heard a laugh fall from Jake, warming your heart. You were certain that it had become your favourite sound in the whole world.

“Yeah, but she has to join, too.” Jake informed his brother.

“Oh, is that y/n?” Josh asked, his excitement growing. “Actually, I don’t think I even have to ask.”

“Hi, Josh!” Your voice echoed from the phone. You saw a struggle on the screen, hearing muffled bumps and noises, until eventually Josh’s smiling face popped into view.

“Hey, mama.” You could hear Jake arguing with his brother, trying to get his phone back. Josh seemed to be walking down the hallway, now, away from his twin. You couldn’t help but giggle at the interaction. “You wanna get drunk with us?” He asked. You eyed your laptop screen, internally debating if you should or not.

“You know, you guys are awfully bad influences.” You teased.

“Is that a yes?” You could see Jake approaching in the background of the camera, now. Josh raised his eyebrow at you in anticipation. He was still evading Jake, picking up his speed as he ran away from him.

“Josh, don’t pressure her into it.” Jake scolded. He sounded far away, you could barely make out what he was saying. You were having a hard time holding back your laughs, now. The whole situation was perfectly comedic and seemed to be exactly what you needed to feel better.

“Yeah, I’d love to, Josh.” You agreed. He let out a triumphant noise, halting his movement completely. Jake finally reached him, grabbing his phone back. You finally lost control of your laughter when you saw his grumpy expression appear in the frame. “Hi, honey.” You joked through bouts of giggles, wiping away a tear that had fallen.

“I’m glad you think he’s funny,” Jake tried to sound annoyed, but he was failing miserably, unable to stay upset while seeing you so happy. “Try being around him all of the time.”

“Oh come on, he’s not that bad.” You comforted, catching your breath.

“You have no idea.” He grumbled, making his way back to his hotel room. Josh appeared behind him, holding a liquor bottle in his hand. You stood yourself, throwing a hoodie on over your tank top. Jake watched you silently, admiring you. He thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, even when you were doing the most mundane tasks. You grabbed your cigarette pack from the desk and slipped it into the pocket. “Are you sure you want to stay on the phone? I can let you go, I know you have work to do.” The concern was dripping from his words.

“I’m okay, I want to talk to you guys. I wasn’t getting much work done, anyway. I think I just have to take a break, start fresh tomorrow.” You were lying, but only slightly. Your work was not going fantastic, but you were making progress. Still, you’d rather put the last bit of your report off until tomorrow if it meant you got to spend time with Jake, even if it was virtual.

“Okay, if you’re sure.” Jake said, a note of warning in his tone.

“She wants to hang out with us, Jake. Don’t convince her to change her mind.” You could practically hear Josh’s eye roll in his statement.

“What, I’m not- you know what? Get out.” Even as he said it, there was a smile on his face and a ghost of a laugh in his voice. You thought it was sweet, how close the two boys were. Twin thing aside, they really were best friends. They knew each other better than anyone else, and they were always functioning on the same wavelength. Even when they were mad at each other, they were never really mad.

Almost nightly you’d see an appearance from Josh in your FaceTimes with Jake. He’d instantly added you on his personal social media’s, wanting to know you just as bad as Jake did, but for a different reason. You remembered back to a few days after they left, how Josh had sent you a message telling you that ‘if Jake talked so highly about you, he had to know you, too’. The instant acceptance was heartwarming. The boys reminded you of your own brothers. You were excited for them all to meet, eventually. They’d talked on the phone a few times, but you couldn’t wait for them to all be together and really know each other.

Just as you were exiting your room, your phone began to vibrate again. A grin pulled at your lips. Your brother Sam was calling, too. “Hold on, guys.” You said, clicking the hold button on your current call and answering the video from your sibling. “Hello, spawn of Satan.” You greeted as soon as the call connected.

“I’m really starting to question if you love me or not.” He shot back. You chuckled.

“Oh, I do love you, brother dearest, but it’s because I have to.” You teased. “Hold on, I’m on the phone with Jake. I’m going to merge it.” You informed him. He gave a nod. You clicked into the other call, pressing the merge button. Within a moment, the screen was shared between Jake and Sam. It took Jake a moment to realize what happened, but when he did, his eyes lit up.

“It’s other Sam!” He said. Your brother cracked a smile, probably larger than any one he’d ever given you.

“What’s up, rockstar?” Sam asked. Josh peeked his head into view, not wanting to miss out on any of the conversation. “Twin rockstars!” Jake and Josh got a chuckle out of it. You’d instantly told Sam about Jake, calling him right after you got home from the airport. Sam, being a nosy little shit, did a deep dive of him on all social media’s. Within a few days, all of your brothers knew about him, and were begging you to let them meet him. So, you thought you’d ease the transition by allowing them on a few of your calls with him. Sam had taken to him immediately, especially upon learning he also had a brother named Sam. According to him, it was fate that you and Jake ended up together. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he wanted to date Jake, too.

“Glad I’m so easily forgettable.” You rolled your eyes, making your way down the hallway and into the kitchen. Ally was sitting at the table with a bowl of soup and her laptop in front of her. She looked like she’d been crying, staring down her final assignment with a look of disdain on her face. Exam season always put a damper on the household mood. You walked over and gave her a supportive shoulder pat, knowing you were close to the same mental state. Sam found himself chatting away with the other two boys, completely ignoring your comment, which only proved your point further. “M’going outside, if you wanna join.” You told her. She shook her head, barely being able to formulate words.

“I have to finish this.” She groaned, relaxing into her chair. “Due tomorrow.”

“Stuck?” You asked, peering down at her screen. She nodded. You gazed at the question that was left answerless, the last one on the page. “Is this Calc III?” She gave a nod. “Okay, where’s your work for it so far?” She pointed out a paragraph.

“I just can’t seem to get the numbers to work out.” She let out a long sigh, throwing her pencil down on the table. You looked over it for a minute, studying the numbers she was using.

“Okay, it’s a relation between a flux and a line integral, right?”

“Yeah, it is.” You turned the volume down on your phone a bit, not wanting to distract her while the boys talked.

“You remember the unit where you talked about the three main integral theorems?” She gave a hum, seeming to get what you’re saying. “One of those has an equation that will solve this question. And you’ll need to remember it for the exam, too, because there’s a couple questions about it.” You told her. She looked like she was wracking her brain for an answer, desperate to remember what you were talking about. After a moment, it seemed to click.

“Stoke’s theorem!” She exploded, catching the attention of all of the boys on the phone call. She noticed the lack of noise, a blush rising to her cheeks. You held up your hand for a high-five, helping her forget about her outburst. “Thank you.” She whispered.

“No problem,” you assured her “now, if you want to join, I will be outside getting fucked up. I am trying to forget about my thesis.” She let out a small laugh.

“How many pages?” She asked.

“I am on page 51, if you must know. Nearly there!” You cheered yourself on. “I should be able to finish it tomorrow.” You went to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of wine and a container of cut up fruit someone had bought at the grocery store.

“I believe in you.” She said, turning back to her laptop. “I might be out in a bit. I haven’t seen Eve all day. Not sure if she’s alive or not, so I’ll have to check on her first.” You saw Sam perk up at the mention of Eve’s name. He probably hadn’t heard from her, either. She was fully immersed in studying, more so than anyone else. She took her exams extremely serious. With a smaller course load, she wanted to ensure her marks were as best as they could be. You were proud of her for it. She worked really hard, but you did miss her presence during exam weeks.

“Saw her this morning drinking orange juice from the bottle, haven’t seen her since.” You informed her. The two of you shared a laugh. “She’s alive, just in hermit mode.”

You parted ways, opening the front door after putting on a pair of slippers. You moved over to the patio chairs placed around a table on the porch. It was a closed porch with large glass windows and another door leading to the street. You thought it was peaceful, finding it your favourite spot in the whole house. You sat down, resting your feet on the table. You pulled out a joint and a cigarette from the cardboard box in your pocket. “What did I miss?” You asked them, now focusing on your screen again.

“We were actually just talking about how much we hate you,” Sam said, a hint of fake sympathy accompanying his words.

“Mmhmm,” you mumbled, joint now between your lips and your lighter setting the tip ablaze. You took a large inhale, the cherry glowing red in the dim lighting. A billow of smoke flowed from your mouth as you exhaled. Almost instantly, you felt the tension melt off your shoulders. Josh seemed positively buzzed, his cheeks burning red and his smile never leaving. Sam looked as though he was ready for bed, eyes heavy and bloodshot. You were sure he’d been high for hours. Jake was sipping a drink silently, but his eyes never seemed to move from the camera.

“Alex and I are flying in Friday morning.” Sam said. Your eyes lit up, a course of adrenaline flowing through your veins.

“Really?” He gave a nod.

“Yeah, we decided to come early, spend some with with you before mom and dad got there. I think our flight leaves here at five.” He explained. “So you better have all of your shit done, because we want to party.” He warned.

“It will be, don’t worry.” You promised. “I think I’ll have my report done by tomorrow. I just have to type the conclusion and my entire novel of sources.” You chuckled to yourself, looking down at the joint between your fingers. “I’ll get Ally to proofread it; she said she would a few days ago. After that, I’m a free woman.” You announced, feeling proud of yourself for getting this far.

After that, the chatter died down. Sam eventually hung up, telling everyone he was tired and wanted to go to bed. You bid your goodbye, already feeling the anticipation begin for his arrival. You and the twins continued on with mindless conversation, sipping away at your drinks. When you cigarette pack was down to the last three, and the bottle of wine was threatening the end, Josh was ready to retire for the night, too. He was dozing off in Jake’s bed every so often, a small snore falling from his mouth periodically. You were caught up in Jake, not caring that the rest of the company had dwindled down. He was exhausted but still immersed in your conversations about nothing, and everything.

It wasn’t too long before Josh stumbled away to his own hotel room. He gave a solemn goodnight, telling you that he wished you were there with them, before he toddled away. Your cheeks were warm in the cool night air, the liquor and weed weighing heavily on you, but not any more than your tiredness.

When Jake settled into bed under the covers, as much as sleep wanted to become him, he couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. “Are you going to bed, beautiful?” He mumbled. You couldn’t help but giggle to yourself. He was barely formulating the words, head buried so deep in the pillow you could hardly see him anymore.

“I think you probably should.” You told him, concern becoming you. “We can talk tomorrow, rockstar.”

“Don’t want to,” he mumbled “just want you here with me.” Your heart ached, hating to admit to yourself that you felt the same way.

“I know, I do too.” You finally mustered out. As much as you enjoyed talking with Jake, and as aware as you were about your feelings for him, the opening up part was proving quite difficult. You had no problem with the flirting, or the endless conversations, or even the sex talk, but telling him how you truly felt was troublesome. You weren’t sure if it was because you were scared of rejection, or because you were just scared of falling in love with him. “I miss you.” You whispered.

“I miss you too, beautiful.” He seemed more alert now, energized by the fact you’d made that proclamation first, this time.

“When can I see you again?” You picked at some frayed strings on your pants, avoiding looking at him.

“Soon, I promise. Once you finish school, I’ll take you around the world with me.” His smile brought your attention back to him. You found it impossible to look anywhere else. Your chest burned at his statement, wondering if he was being truthful or not.

“You mean it?”

“Never meant anything more in my life.” He assured you. “I hate sleeping alone, now, ‘cause I know what it’s like to sleep next to you.” You stood to go back inside, butting out your last cigarette of the night before entering through the front door and locking it behind you. You didn’t answer him until you were in your bedroom with the door closed.

“Don’t make promises you don’t mean, rockstar.” You took off your sweater and your pants, climbing into bed. The alcohol was buzzing through your veins, making your head feel a bit fuzzy. You were more than ready for bed.

“I’ve never told you anything I didn’t mean, baby.” The pet name rolled off his tongue so effortlessly, like he was meant to call you that all along, but it hit you with such an impact that you were sure it had stopped your heart for a moment. He’d called you plenty of other names, more in a compliment context, but such a domestic title was something very new. He didn’t even notice the effect it had on you; he was laying there with his eyes closed, phone only showing half of his face in the frame. When you didn’t answer, he opened one of his eyes to see what was going on. “I’m sorry, did that bother you? I wasn’t thinking,” he rushed out.

“No, Jake. It’s okay.” You reassured him. “I liked it.” A small smile creeped onto his face. You couldn’t help but return it. “I think I’m falling for you, rockstar.” You breathed after a moment too long.

“I already have, witchy woman.” His eyes were open again, watching the blush spread across your cheeks. That was the best way he could say it, because he was afraid he’d already fallen in love with you. He was glad he could at least tell you a sliver of what he was feeling for you. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Soon,” you said, curling up into your blankets.

“Can we stay on the phone tonight?” He asked. “I don’t want to hang up.”

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” You turned over, plugging your phone into the charger. You set your phone on your nightstand, propped up against a book so he could see you. He shuffled around, doing the same thing. This wasn’t the first time you’d fallen asleep with him on the phone. You hadn’t done it in a few days, though. It was nice. When the days permitted, sometimes you even got to wake up to him before he had to go. He usually waited as long as he could before hanging up so he could at least try to say good morning. If you were awake first, you did the same. You really enjoyed the little routines you two had been building together.

You both settled into your beds, rustling in the pillows and blankets to find the comfiest position. You watched your phone, wanting to soak in every second of seeing his face. “Goodnight, beautiful.” He mumbled, sleep calling to him. “Sleep well, I’ll see you in the morning.” He said it as if it were a promise.

“Goodnight, rockstar.” You whispered. His eyes fluttered closed as he bit his tongue, holding back any other words. The ‘L’ word was always so dangerously close to slipping out of his mouth. He felt so stupid, wanting to say ‘I love you’, when he’d only known you for a few weeks, but he felt like he really did. He’d never met anyone else who made him feel like you did, and it started from the minute he saw you.

Before you closed your own eyes, they drifted to the wall behind your computer desk. The record sleeve of one of Jake’s albums stood so beautifully prominent, his signature illuminated by your desk lamp. Your gaze lingered over the sharpie marks, stomach fluttering at the memory of him writing it. You fell asleep with a smile, already excited to wake up to him in the morning.

Tag list: @gvfpal @jakesgrapejuice

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emeritus-fuckers · 1 year

Note

Hii

It's me again ✨

Could you write something about staying in bed and watching movies on a super cold rainy day with the papas(not just old nihil for once😂)? It's cold af today and my anemic self is suffering 🫠 and being delusional is helping yk💅🏽

The moment I saw your request, I immediately thought of Nihil. This one's short because I'm sick - Jez

Rainy days in bed with the Papas

Primo

He's not too much of a movie fan, to be honest. Manages to fall asleep during the darkest, goriest scenes purely because they don't really catch his focus.

He enjoys very few movies. His favorite is Les Miserables. Mainly because it's entirely sung.

He walks around and hums the songs later while working.

Prefers to read or solve crossword puzzles or sudoku and stuff like that. He enjoys reading to you or when you read to him.

Might bake with you if you ask nicely.

Will drape his robes over you if you're cold. And wrap you in a blanket.

Multiple blankets.

Makes you many hot herbal teas.

Acts more like a dad than lover on days like these.

Secondo

Gets a fucking headache. Cures it with whisky.

He might be a bit grumpier than usual, he's not a fan of weather like this.

Cuddle the old man, he needs it.

If you two decide to watch movies, he's gonna be really fucking picky about the movie.

He won't tell you what he wants, it's just a matter of you listing titles and him saying no to every single one of them until you finally find something he's willing to watch.

He probably picked something completely stupid, but absolutely not admit the movie is shit.

The movie totally was shit.

Terzo

Bro's gonna take it personally if you decide watching movies is more important than he is.

It's a rainy day, one of the very few days he gets to only pretend to work instead of actually working!

And you wanna watch a movie instead of doing other fun things? Really?

Don't get me wrong, he's fucking soft for you, he'll give in.

Will do some light groping from time to time as you cuddle.

If you tell him to stop or that you're uncomfortable with it, he stops and apologizes. He's pervy, yeah, but he's not a fucking creep.

Lots of kisses and hugs! He's touch starved!

Copia

Copia loves movies! He's got a full collection of his favorites waiting for days like that, just so he can cuddle with you and watch them.

The only one actually focused on the damn movies.

And the only way to distract him is to start touching him.

It's like a little game for you, how much he'll squirm and try to focus on the movie until he gives up watching and gives in to you.

Might get pouty afterwards of he really liked the movie.

Loves to play video games with you on days like these. And he has a perfect excuse, too! What else are you guys supposed to do, after all?

Unlike someone (ekhem, Terzo, ekhem), he's fucking sane about it.

Old Nihil

Only picks ancient movies from his youth that no sane person ever heard of.

And it's the most ridiculous movie ever, something that would totally get cancelled for being offensive nowadays.

If you tell him you don't like it, he might give you some shit about you not appreciating good movies.

Make a cute pouty face at him and his opinion changes completely.

In the end, he lets you pick the movie. Spends the entire time staring at you, dreamingly unless he's startled by a loud noise from the film.

Forgets about the noise within three seconds, goes back to staring at you. Fucking simp.

(The day I don't call Nihil a simp is the day I die)

Young Nihil

Kinda like Terzo, not interested in movies in the slightest.

Way more of an attention whore, though.

Literally whines about you liking a movie more than him.

And he whines like... A lot.

Enough to give up to movie idea completely.

He's gonna have a shit eating grin on his face when he "wins" your little argument.

And he will win. Kinda.

You get upset with him and don't talk to him for a few hours until he makes a joke that he actually kinda likes it.

Smack him and he's gonna laugh, claiming he knew that would get a reaction and that it was planned.

It was not planned, he's just a jackass who doesn't think before opening his mouth.

#ghost band #ghost #ghost bc #ask #papa nihil #ghost band x reader #ghost bc x reader #ghost x reader #request #hoeforallthepapas #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus i #young papa nihil #old papa nihil #primo #secondo #terzo

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daechwitatamic · 1 year

Text

IV. Something Has to Change

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love.

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

Your friendship with Taehyung starts to show its cracks.

Section Warnings: language

WC: 7.5k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Saturday October 20th

You text Taehyung before going to sleep just to confirm he didn’t die in a ditch, but it’s radio silence from him until almost three o’clock the next afternoon. When he does finally answer you - “alive but at what cost?” - you roll your eyes and turn your phone over, screen down. You’re sitting in the living room, two author anthologies open on the coffee table, bookends to your open notebook.

Apparently he’s displeased with your silence, because your phone buzzes again a few minutes later - the longer buzz, indicating a call of some kind. With a huff of aggravation, you flip it over to see it’s a video call, his preferred method of communication. You slide the button to accept the call, but let him stare at your ceiling.

“What?” you demand. “I can’t talk, I have to go call off my search parties.”

“I was asleep,” he defends himself. “I texted you as soon as I woke up!”

“Didn’t sleep last night, huh?” you joke, but the sting is there. Just a little.

He avoids the question. “What are we doing tonight?”

You laugh at the audacity of his whole existence. Admitting to your face that he’d been up all night with a girl, and then calling you first thing upon waking like he knows you’ll just be there, waiting for him. What would happen if you weren’t?

Not to mention asking what the Saturday night plan is thirty seconds after waking up with a hangover.

“I’m assuming you won’t want to go out?” you ask.

He hums, runs a hand through his messy hair. “Depends. I could be persuaded, maybe. Wouldn’t mind just hanging out, though. What about a movie? We have that one we’ve been saving?”

We.

You’re not sure why, today, it’s bothering you so much. The truth is, Taehyung’s acting and speaking the same as always. So what’s different?

You don’t want to examine the answer to that, so you focus on the plan instead. “I like the sound of a movie,” you agree. “Wanna see if anyone else is interested?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung says. “I’ll text everyone.”

“Sounds good. See you around eight?”

“Should we order dinner before that?” he asks.

Something in your stomach turns. You don’t want to. You don’t want to keep getting your heart stepped on. You don’t want his metaphorical scent on all of your clothes, so that you can’t go anywhere or do anything without him lingering on you.

And at the same time, he’s your best friend. He’s your family. You love him, in multiple ways.

It feels like being tugged in opposite directions. It feels like lose/lose. It feels like there’s no right answer, nowhere to turn, no option that doesn’t hurt.

“Not tonight,” you hear yourself say. “I have too much homework.”

“Okay,” he says easily. “See you around eight, then. I’ll let you know if anyone else is coming with me.”

You try to return to homework after you hang up, but your focus is shot. You lean onto the cushy back of the couch, closing your eyes. You’re still sitting like that when you hear the front door open. Namjoon hadn’t been home when you got up, had been out the whole time.

“Hey,” you say, eyes still closed.

He gives a chuckle. “Everything okay?”

“I think my brain is broken,” you tell him. “Can Edna write about something besides death?”

He huffs out a laugh, and you hear him drop his keys onto the counter. “I think she does,” he says, coming closer and peering at the anthology you still have open on the table in front of you. “Nature. Rebellion. Men. Women. Love. Sex.”

Your cheeks burn, like you’re thirteen damn years old, just from hearing the word sex in his low, steady voice.

Get a grip, you scold yourself silently.

“I guess so,” you admit. “But today everything I read is about grief.”

“Take a break,” he suggests, moving into the kitchen. You hear a cabinet open and the sink run, and then he comes in carrying a glass of water. He sits down a few feet away from you on the couch and copies your pose, leaning back against the cushions.

It occurs to you that you’ve never sat on the couch at the same time as him before. In fact, your Uber ride last night was the closest your bodies had ever been.

“We’re gonna watch a movie tonight,” you find yourself telling him. “That new one with what’s-his-face, Raven’s Prophecy? Around eight. If you want to join.”

“Yeah,” he says right away, surprising you. “Sounds good.”

–

The movie’s good - really good. You’re all crowded around the living room - Namjoon on one end of the couch, Yoongi on the other, you and Taehyung and Jimin on the floor. The coffee table has been pushed to the side to make room for you, the lights turned down. Taehyung is sitting with his back against the couch, legs extended in front of him, and you have a throw-pillow leaning against his knees, laying perpendicular to him. Jimin sits next to Taehyung, one of his legs resting lazily over top of yours.

It feels normal, and it feels nice, and everything weird from earlier seems to float away. Maybe you had just been tired.

“That’s totally foreshadowing,” you pipe up, raising a hand to point at the screen. “Because when he-.”

“Hey,” Taehyung says loudly, reaching over to flick the back of your arm. “No nerd talk. Just enjoy the movie. No one asked for a literary analysis.”

“But, look -.”

“No,” he repeats firmly, and Jimin giggles, used to this exact squabble. “This is fun, not school.”

“Foreshadowing is fun!” you protest, laughing, but you let it go.

A second later, your phone buzzes in your hand.

[9:37 PM] Namjoon: 🤯

You bite back a smile, turning off your screen before the light can catch anyone’s attention, and then you cast your gaze up at the couch to find Namjoon looking right at you, a sheepish smile creeping up on one side of his face.

You’re thankful for the dark of the room, the light shifting and changing with the scene on the tv screen, as you feel yourself blush.

God, you think to yourself. Get it together. Two days ago, it hadn’t been like this, where every met glance cues up a shy smile, and each tiny smile elicits a flush. You don’t know who this girl is but she is un-fucking-recognizable.

You wait a minute or two, then turn your brightness down and send back, “but am i wrong?”. Then you glance back up to watch Namjoon read the text. He gives a laugh, one shake of his shoulders as he sees it, and then he meets your gaze. That same half-smile on his face, he shakes his head imperceptibly.

Behind you, beneath you, Taehyung shifts and you turn back to the tv quickly, feeling something akin to guilt simmer in your gut. You don’t see his eyes bounce back and forth between you and Namjoon, curious.

Monday October 22nd

Monday brings bright sunshine despite the chilly air, morning light illuminating the deep reds and oranges of the trees down the block.

Namjoon finds you in the kitchen, staring listlessly into an untouched cup of coffee.

“Good morning?” he greets you, a question.

You startle. “Shit!” you yelp and then laugh, heart pounding. “I didn’t even hear you getting ready in there. ”

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says apologetically. “I’m heading to campus in a bit… how about you?”

“Yeah,” you say glumly. “I have work and class.”

“Same,” he says, moving around you to rummage for some breakfast. “Class first, and then I’m TA-ing all afternoon.”

You give him a little smile. “I don’t think I’ll be needing your services today.”

“No?” he asks mildly. “Last few submissions went well?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume I’ve written anything worth submitting.”

He laughs, his back to you, and then settles against the kitchen counter. “I can help you brainstorm, too, if you’re stuck.”

You bite back the prideful I don’t need your help that rises to your tongue. He’s being nice. Instead, you say, “Hopefully I’ll make some progress on my own. Have fun, though. You still have that office to yourself? If I had that, I’d be so productive. Nothing to distract me.”

Namjoon shakes his head, smiling ruefully. “I find ways. I still have my phone. And a window.”

You laugh at this, and then rise, draining half of your mug of coffee in one go. “I need to head in. Are you leaving now, too? Or, later?”

“I can make now work,” he says, something warm in his tone. “Let me just go grab my bag.”

Out front, you blink against the sudden brightness, holding up a hand to shield your eyes as they adjust. Namjoon locks the front door and comes down the steps at a light jog, stopping next to you.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you tell him, and you start off towards campus in silence, the only noise around you the calls of birds and the hum of car engines from nearby traffic.

You stop at an intersection, watching the orange hand tell you to wait. “So,” you say, glancing up at him as the cars whiz by, “what’s your book about?”

He looks at you completely blankly, like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

“For the grad program,” you clarify. “You said you were in fiction, right?”

“Oh,” he says, as if he forgot. “Yeah. Um, I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

“Try,” you say dryly.

“It’s a coming-of-age, I guess,” he says, rubbing his chin as he thinks. He’s wearing his glasses today, and you have half a mind to tease him that he’s just trying to look like one of the professors so they don’t kick him out of his hijacked office. “And a bit of an unrequited love story.”

“The good kind or the bad kind?” you ask, a little absently. When he doesn’t answer, you look at him to determine why, and he’s looking at you like you’ve asked the most ridiculous question in the world.

You huff out a sigh. “Like - unrequited because the other person doesn’t know, or because they don’t return the feelings?”

“One of those is the good kind?” he asks, raising a brow.

“The first one,” you say, as if it’s obvious. “It’s… it always exists only as the idea of love, it’s untarnished, it can remain a beautiful and pure thing. It never gets messed up.”

“But you’re alone,” Namjoon counters.

“You still love someone,” you insist. “The meaning of life, and all that shit.”

Namjoon shakes his head as the stoplight above you changes from green to yellow, and then to red. “It’s not the same as loving someone and having them love you back, building it together and working to sustain it,” he says firmly. “That’s real love.” And then he heads for the crosswalk, his long legs carrying him swiftly away.

You hurry to catch up, feet following his without question.

–

The first leaf falls, a warning. Now the rest will follow. I watched them sway all summer. Autumn leaves me hollow.

There’s a promise in the air, I turn towards the icy bite. If autumn can’t make me happy, I wonder if winter might.

Aren’t those frozen days so dark? Isn’t catching snowflakes strange? Perhaps this could be something. Perhaps something has to change.

You frown at the page. Half of you is tempted to take Namjoon up on his offer to workshop during his TA hours, but you’ve got a good reason not to let him see this one.

“Y/N?” Kris calls from the register at the front of the store. “Did I leave my phone back there?”

Their voice brings you back to reality, pulling your focus from the page of your notebook open on your lap. You’re hiding in the stockroom, sitting on an unpacked box of what you hope are books, trying to cram in some coursework.

Kris’s phone is indeed on a table behind you, where you sling your bookbag when you come in to start a shift. You rise, slipping your notebook back into said bag and grabbing the phone, walking it out to them.

You’re alarmed when both phones buzz in your hands, a long, repeating pattern that you aren’t accustomed to.

“What the fuck?” you utter, even though if your boss heard you cursing on the floor you’d get a written reprimand for the first time in your life.

“Storm alert,” Kris says, reaching one grabby hand out for their phone. You pass it over and press your thumb to your own screen. Sure enough, it’s a severe weather alert.

You groan. “Great. I walked here.” You try to pull up the radar, but your shitty service takes too long to load it so you switch over to the hour-by-hour.

“See if your knight in shining armor will give you a ride,” Kris says with a twisted chuckle.

For a second, you aren’t sure if they mean Taehyung or Namjoon, and that fact is startling. Obviously they mean Taehyung, they know a lot of your history with him and they don't know anything about what’s happening with Namjoon. Nothing is happening with Namjoon, you correct yourself sternly. You had a weird desire to scoot closer while drunk in an Uber and had one sort of deep conversation. It’s not a thing.

And, actually, texting Taehyung for a ride is a pretty good idea. Outside, it’s not even raining yet, but the clouds hang low and the leaves that have managed to cling to their branches this late into autumn are flipping and shimmying in the harsh wind.

There’s a long line of students waiting to check out - probably grabbing last minute snacks and drinks before the rain starts, so they don’t have to go out later - so you slide next to Kris at the second register and swipe your access card. You work like this for at least an hour, the rain starting a pace outside the windows as steady as the flow of students trying to get what they need and hurry back to their dorms.

When you catch a minute, you send a text, holding your phone down under the counter and typing with one hand, as if it isn’t painfully obvious what you’re doing. When the answer comes in, you tap the screen quickly.

[4:22 PM] You: are you still on campus?

[4:31 PM] Namjoon: just finished work. can’t wait to walk back in this…

You giggle and Kris looks at you out of the corner of their eyes.

“That him?” they ask. They mean Taehyung, and you’re too damn aware of the lie as you answer, “Mhm.”

[4:34 PM] You: i’m done in 25 min if you want to suffer together

[4:36 PM] Namjoon: yeah sounds good you can make sure i dont drown lol

An “lol”? Oh, goodness.

[4:37 PM] Namjoon: you’re at the bookstore right? i’ll come there and wait for you

Oh, lord, Kris is going to have a field day with this. You don’t have time to focus on this, as your boss finally sweeps out of her adjoining office, announcing that you need to shut down the second register and finish everything in the back room before your shift ends. She’ll be the one to close the store tonight, as she does on Mondays.

When you emerge from the back room at 4:59 on the dot, your backpack on your back, Namjoon is loitering near the registers, and Kris is shooting you looks that are somehow mischievous, delighted, and wounded. You have a feeling you’ll be interrogated during your shift on Wednesday.

Outside, the rain isn’t that bad, but it is steady. The wind blowing makes it look like it’s raining left to right, in sheets.

“We’re gonna be drenched,” you groan. You follow Namjoon out of the bookstore, waving a goodbye at a still-disgruntled Kris, stopping at the glass doors that lead outside.

“It’s not that bad,” Namjoon tells you, voice a little fond, like he thinks your complaining is cute. “We’ll just go quick. I’m mostly worried about my laptop.”

“Ugh, same,” you lament. “We’d better be fast, I fully cannot afford a new one.”

“Let’s go,” he tells you, and leads you outside. Just like that morning, your feet follow his, like it’s natural. You walk in silence almost halfway home, the pace too clipped to really carry on any kind of conversation.

You’re practically panting for breath when you hit the major crosswalk, stopping to wait for the signal to walk. The rain seems worse when you’re stopped - sticking your hair to your head where it lands, raising the hairs on your arms as your body gives one dramatic shiver against the chill. Namjoon looks down at you.

“We’re almost there,” he says, reassuring.

“Mhm,” you manage, rubbing your hands over your arms to fight off the goosebumps. The light changes and you start across, following Namjoon and his naturally long stride. You keep your eyes on the ground, dodging puddles, watching the white stripes pass beneath you.

You’re just across, stepping up the curb onto the sidewalk, when it happens.

The sky opens.

One second it’s raining hard enough to be a nuisance, the next second it feels like someone dumped a bucket of water over your head. The sound goes from a soft patter to a sudden roar, like the rain is alive and it is pissed. You splutter, actually blowing water away from your lips, reaching up to wipe your eyes.

“Fucking shit,” Namjoon swears, and then he grabs your hand and tugs. “Come on!”

He’s not running that fast but there’s still a few seconds where you feel uneven, your gait awkward, trying to match his. Eventually your feet settle into the rhythm and you run just behind him. His hand, so large in yours it's almost swallowing it, is warm and solid and sure. His grip is tight - like he means it. He doesn’t look back as he runs, just squeezes your hand in his and trusts you to keep up.

When you round the corner of your block, together, you try to pull back, try to slow down. Your lungs hurt, your legs are burning, and you just want to admit defeat and walk the block letting the rain know it won.

Namjoon doesn’t let you. He slows his pace to more of a race-walk, gives your arm another playful tug. Not for a single second does he loosen his grip on your hand.

“You can make it,” he tells you over his shoulder. His hair is flattened from the rain, his face a little flushed from the run, but his dimples wink at you through the deluge.

When he reaches the front of the apartment, he finally drops your hand and takes the steps at a clip. At the top, under the safety of the awning, he turns to see why you haven’t followed him.

You can’t help it - it’s all so ridiculous you have to laugh. Your hair sticks to your face like cooked spaghetti, your shirt clings to your arms, your backpack is dripping water like there’s a faucet in there, and even your socks are wet, making each step you take squelch like mud. Still cackling at the absurdity of this moment, of having been completely defeated by the season, of running all the way home and still ending up half-drowned, you look up at the sky. The rain slides down the sides of your face and you let it cool the heat that’s there from either running, or Namjoon’s touch.

You feel a little drunk from it.

“Y/N!” Namjoon scolds from the top of the stairs, but he’s smiling that same fond little smile he’d had on movie night a few days ago. “Come inside! You’re going to get pneumonia.”

You look back at him, the rain still assaulting you from above. There’s a second where you feel something. Something like… you’re half-drowned and chilled to the bone, but you feel warm with his affectionate gaze on you. Like you don’t want him to look away and leave you cold again. Like the rain was penance and now you’re all paid up.

Like for at least this moment, right now, the rain has washed away your histories and left you clean and empty, a blank page waiting for a new story to tell - where before, your pages were full of scribbles and scrawls that held such heavy meaning there was no room for anything new.

You’re thinking too much.

You’re standing in the rain, Namjoon is looking at you like you’re nuts, and you’re thinking too much.

Watching your feet, you head up the stairs, going through the front door that he’s holding open for you.

You squish your way upstairs, neither of you talking. Inside the apartment, Namjoon flicks on a few lamps.

“I’m going to grab a shower,” he tells you, voice quiet. “You should, too.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “That was my plan.”

You stand beneath the spray of hot water, tapping on the faucet to work it hotter by degrees, not wanting the temperature to jump and scald you. You feel drained, like your limbs are noodles. You lean your forehead against the tile wall, closing your eyes and just breathing.

“What the fuck…” you whisper to no one, “is going on?”

You wish you had a friend to talk it out with. Kris would go overboard, exploding with glee. Lin isn’t a talk about boys kind of person, or even a talk about your feelings kind. That leaves Taehyung, and the idea of trying to talk to him about your burgeoning feelings for Namjoon makes you laugh out loud, the single syllable echoing off the shower walls, echoing back to mock you.

When you finally make it back into the living room, hair blow-dried and wearing your fuzziest joggers and a hoodie, Namjoon is tucked away in his own room, the door open that familiar four inches.

You get settled on the couch and pull out your phone and realize practically with a gasp - you hadn’t even tried to text Taehyung to drive you, nice and dry, back from campus. Your brain had thought but I walked here with Namjoon and the option of “dry” went right out the window.

You cover your face with your hands, sliding down on the couch a little bit. What is the matter with you?

You feel right now like it’s all happening too much, too fast. What even is “it”? Do you like Namjoon? Despite barely knowing him? Despite having to live with him?

Despite the years and years of experience you have with loving Taehyung, and Taehyung alone, out of everyone in the whole wide world?

Luckily, Namjoon stays in his room for the rest of the evening, sparing you from any more self-reflection, any more soul-searching.

You still kind of wish he’d come out.

Tuesday October 23rd

One of the steady things that you and Namjoon share, that works for you as roommates, is that neither of you cooks. A whole kitchen of pots and pans just to heat up water for tea and ramen and to occasionally cook an egg.

So when you get home from class on Tuesday so late that it’s already pretty dark out and you hear the clanging and banging from the kitchen that indicates a meal being made, you genuinely wonder if you’re at the wrong door.

As you push the door open, the noise only gets louder. You round the corner and see the kitchen in chaos - two unmanned pans on the stove, bowls and whisks and colanders and cutting boards all over the counterspace. Namjoon has his back to you, a large kitchen knife in hand.

You ease around him, not wanting to startle him until the knife is set down. He spots you anyway, and gives you a sheepish grin.

“What… exactly… is happening here?” you inquire.

“It depends on the scope of your question,” Namjoon answers, because of course he can’t just fucking answer you like a normal person. “If you’re referring to the stove, I am burning some sauce on the left and burning some meat on the right. If you’re referring to the cutting board, I am -.”

“The stove is on fire!” you shriek, pointing, your spare hand flying to cover your mouth in horror. Flames crawl from underneath the pan of meat, over the top, devouring what’s in the pan and leaping into the air. Namjoon drops the knife with a clatter and whirls around, eyes wide.

“What do I do?” he cries, hands in the air like he’s going to swat the flames like gnats.

“Turn off the burner and smother it!” you cry, not willing to enter the kitchen and get closer to the danger.

“Smother it?” he repeats, the words a little wild as he screams them. Smoke has filled the kitchen, blurring your view of him, and the smoke alarm over the front door begins to blare.

“The lid!” you scream, trying to be louder than the alarm. “Turn off the burner and put the lid on the pan! Be careful!”

You add this last part in a shriek as Namjoon follows your directions, reaching towards the flame to twist the burner and then slam the lid over the top of the pan, hissing a little as he does.

The flames vanish almost instantly, but the smoke remains and the alarm keeps screaming. Namjoon looks at the pan, then his hand, then at you.

“Go run cool water on that,” you tell him firmly, and you cross the apartment to open the windows and turn on the fans.

You return to the kitchen to find Namjoon running the sink over his knuckles, brows furrowed.

“Is it bad?” you ask loudly - again, to be heard over the smoke alarm - as you open a drawer and get a kitchen towel, moving to stand in the kitchen’s doorway flapping away, trying to send the smoke towards the open windows.

“No,” he tells you, pulling his hand out of the stream of water to examine it more closely. “It’s just a little red.”

“Keep it there for a little bit,” you tell him, still flapping away. “I might have burn cream in my bathroom, I’ll check in a second.”

Eventually the alarm quiets and you both heave a sigh of relief. The cold air coming from the open windows chills you down to your toes, but smoke still clings to the room, blurring your vision just enough to wonder if you’re imagining it.

You find the burn cream in your medicine cabinet and return to the living room. Namjoon is looking at the ruined remains of his dinner with something like heartbreak on his face.

“Come here,” you tell him, sitting at the breakfast bar, ointment in your hand. “Come sit so I can do this.”

“I can do it,” he protests, but he heads your way.

“Sit,” you repeat, pulling out the stool next to you.

He does, silently and obediently, sliding his hand over to you. You can see the redness over his knuckles, middle and index the most. You uncap the tube and squeeze a little onto your fingers, then take his hand in your spare one to hold it steady. Gently you press the cream into his skin, making sure to cover each bit of redness. Namjoon watches you solemnly, wincing a little when your fingers touch his middle knuckle.

“See if that helps,” you tell him, his hand still resting on yours. “Want help cleaning up?”

He sighs heavily, and you both look at the kitchen in defeat at the mess of pans and bowls to wash.

“Do you ever just… miss your mom?” he asks plaintively, not looking at you.

The thing about grief - long-term grief, lifetime grief - is that you can go days, maybe even weeks at a time without noticing it. It’s kind of like a bruise in a hard to reach spot. It just takes one bump in exactly the right place, and it hurts just as bad as day one all over again. Namjoon’s words pierce you, and you take a slow breath. You were just caught off-guard, that’s all. You can be fine. You can be normal.

“Sure,” you say, trying to sound casual. Failing.

He narrows his eyes at you in suspicion. “Why’d you get weird?” he asks. “Do you have a bad relationship with your mom or something? I didn’t mean to -.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, but you rise and head for the kitchen, starting to pick things up just to do something with your hands. “It’s just… I don’t have my mom anymore. She passed when I was little. My dad too.” Might as well get it all out there. It felt weird to let someone only know half.

It’s easier to handle this moment with Namjoon in another room. You don’t have to watch him react, don’t have to translate his silence and his body language. You slide all the chopped onion onto a plate just in case Namjoon still wants to use it, and turn to rinse off the cutting board in the sink.

He appears behind you, silently lingering in the doorway. “Y/N,” he says softly.

“It’s fine, Namjoon,” you tell him, scrubbing at the cutting board vigorously. You don’t turn to face him.

“I wouldn’t have been so blase about it if I’d known,” he says apologetically.

“I know,” you say. You turn - away from the doorway - to put the cutting board aside to dry. You grab the pan with sauce in it - all congealed and unappetizing now - and move to scrape it into the garbage can.

He comes up beside you; his fingers touch your elbow, feather-light, like he’s afraid he’ll spook you.

“Y/N,” he implores. “Look at me.”

You do, glancing sideways up at him, the pan heavy in your hand. “I’m not upset,” you assure him. “People just get so weird when they find out. I hate… navigating that, over and over again, with new people.”

He gives you a guilty smile, but there’s relief in it as well. “I will stop being weird immediately,” he promises. “I just felt like I stepped in it, you know?”

You shrug. “It happens to the best of us. It really is fine. It’s been a long time.”

You arm tingles where he’d touched you, but he stays put when you move back to the sink, running the water hot enough to steam before you put the pan under it. Then, wordlessly, he moves next to you, grabbing a cloth and starting to dry the cutting board you’d washed.

You carry on that like that, a perfectly synchronized dance, in silence until the countertop is empty. All that remains is the pan that had been alight about half an hour ago.

“Can I ask you something personal?” he asks, leaning against the counter as you scrape the remains of the charred meat into the garbage with a grimace. “I’m just curious. You can tell me to fuck off.”

“It’s so jarring when you swear,” you tell him.

He grins at you. “Hobi says my surprising potty-mouth is one of my best charms.”

You laugh at this. “I can see that,” you agree. “It is surprising.”

“Not charming?” he teases.

You shrug, feeling that blush rise up again. “No comment. Anyway - what did you want to ask?”

He lets you get away with evading the flirtation. “If you were little… who raised you?”

“Oh,” you say. You aren’t sure what you thought he’d ask, but it wasn’t that. “My grandma, until she couldn’t. Then my Aunt Lin took over, but she’s more like a big sister than anything.”

Namjoon nods. Then he asks, carefully, “Did Taehyung know your parents?”

The question makes you smile at the memories it pulls up - you and Taehyung as kids together, goofing off around your house, back when it had been filled with people.

“Yeah,” you say softly. It doesn’t occur to you to wonder why he’d ask that. It doesn’t occur to you to mask the tiny smile, that it might jostle his feelings even a little bit.

You look over at him when you realize he’s gone quiet. “Are you close with your family?” you ask, genuinely curious.

He nods, eyes on the pan lid that he’s drying. “Very. I was a lost soul when I first moved to campus. I couldn’t do anything.”

“You burned dinner tonight,” you point out.

“I can do laundry now,” he retorts, smiling at you as you put the last of the dishes away. “I’ve come a long way.”

“Still room to grow,” you tease, reaching out to give his arm a playful nudge.

You’re giving playful touches now. That’s a thing that’s happening.

You ache, again, to have someone to tell.

Wednesday October 24th

You both love and hate Wednesdays - on one hand, you have your thesis double-feature, and you actually enjoy it. On the other hand, you go straight from double-class to closing shift at the campus store, and you don’t get home until dark. The day is long, and you’d rather be home. For several reasons.

Your morning goes as you expect - you make it through the lecture part of class, updating Professor Jemisen on how your research segment is going. During the break, you eat some leftovers you’d thrown in your backpack, and talk with Gloria and the other girls. After the break, your group helps you workshop your latest poem, the one about the season changing, and you do the same for them.

The season changing is happening in real life, all around you. Fall fades quickly, the days darkening, the chills lasting longer, becoming more pronounced. Gone are the autumn days that change their mood and become summer again for hours at a time.

You normally go straight to the campus store after class, but this week you’re hungry - the leftovers you packed weren’t enough to keep you until you get home. Instead of heading down the main paved path to the student center, where you work, you head for a large academic building you pass on the way there. You know there’s a little sandwich station on the lowest floor, tucked away past the mailroom like a well-kept secret.

You take a hallway off to the side, passing some open classrooms on your way to the staircase. You’re walking mindlessly, head thinking only about the sandwich you’re going to order. You slow your steps when you hear a familiar voice, low and calm.

“All I’m saying,” a girl is saying, and you stop in the doorway, listening, “is that while the idea of going to live alone in the woods is actually extremely appealing, Thoreau as a whole kind of sucks.”

“I might agree with you, but you need to frame that more academically,” Namjoon corrects gently.

A circle of students - freshmen, if you had to guess, maybe eight of them, are sitting at desks, their bags all forgotten on the floor by their chairs. Namjoon perches on the edge of the teacher’s desk at the front of the room, legs casually stretched out before him. He’s listening intently as the students debate.

“We have to specify the problem,” someone else in the group points out. “I’m all for metaphorically dragging down statues of the patriarchy and everything, but we need a solid argument.”

“Or,” a different girl says, voice just barely loud enough for you to hear from the hallway, “maybe instead of giving more attention to ‘classics’ we see as undeserving, maybe instead we should focus just on the underprivileged voices that we prefer to be amplified?”

“You mean pick a lesser-known author and shed light on their work instead?” Namjoon clarifies, and the girl nods.

The group begins to debate this passionately, and Namjoon lets them fight it out, taking a second to glance at his phone. You become aware of the fact that you’re just standing in the hallway staring. You’re about to move on when Namjoon notices you. He looks away quickly at first, and then it registers that it was you standing in the doorway like a weirdo, and his gaze flies back to you.

Caught, you have no choice but to lean into it. You give him a tiny smile, raising a hand in a guilty wave. He smiles back, just barely. You stay there another minute, smiling at each other, while the freshmen continue to argue. Then your feet spur you on, and you give him a little nod before heading down the hall. But the stupid fucking butterflies stay in your stomach the whole time you wait in line for your sandwich.

When you get to the bookshop, you toss your backpack behind the counter and slump onto a low stool that’s stashed back there. You lean your head on the counter next to the currently unmanned register and let out some unhappy grumbles.

Kris comes out from the stockroom - you can tell it’s them by their footsteps.

“What is happening here,” they say flatly, not exactly a question.

“Kriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis,” you whine, not looking up. “I think I need to talk about… my roommate.”

“Bitch!” they utter indignantly. “He has a name! What grade are we in right now?”

You stomp your feet lightly, needing to display your crankiness. “I am feeling very confused and conflicted and I need you to be nice to me about it,” you say petulantly, finally picking your head up so you can pout better.

“Okay,” Kris says easily, leaning against the wall. The shop is devoid of customers, so you don’t bother to lower your voice. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” you continue to whine. “It’s just how I feel.”

Kris gives you a level stare. “I need the whining to stop, like, yesterday. If you feel conflicted, there’s a reason. So, figure out what it is.”

“I already said I don’t know,” you tell them, still pouty, but sitting up straight now.

“Dig deep,” Kris deadpans. “Do it for the dimples.”

“Oh my GOD,” you say, unable to even make eye contact. “Never mind, conversation over.”

They shake their head, not letting you off the hook. “What’s the problem, Square?” It’s a nickname they gave you last year when you wouldn’t go partying - because… apparently you’re a square.

“You know the problem,” you grumble quietly, making them lean closer to hear you.

They lean back, something knowing in their eyes. “Ah. It’s the Taehyung factor.”

“Shh,” you scold, glancing around the empty store like someone might have materialized without you noticing. When you return your gaze to them, Kris is just staring at you plainly, waiting for you to elaborate.

“I don’t know,” you say, and then more emphatically, “I don’t know! If I… start something else… does that mean giving Taehyung up? Because I can’t say I want to do that. Not if I’m being honest.”

Kris nods silently, letting you work it out. You meet their eyes, suddenly feeling the squeeze of anxiety around your chest, like your lungs have something heavy they have to push every time you inhale.

“If I lose him,” you say in practically a whisper, “I will quite literally die.”

Kris scowls at you. “You will not.”

“I will,” you retort.

Kris gives you an eyeroll. “So dramatic,” they scold.

“He’s my family, Kris,” you try to explain. “In a lot of ways he’s my only family.” Your voice breaks as you ask, “What if I lose him?”

Now Kris softens, lips pulling together into something like a very pursed frown. “Maybe you should talk to him,” they suggest quietly.

You hate that idea a lot. “Maybe,” you say loudly, slapping your hand on the counter and standing as the bell over the door chimes and a group of lacrosse guys (the sticks are a give-away) enter the store with a burst of noisy chatter, “I should never talk about any of this ever again.”

Kris sighs heavily, practically doubling over. Now who’s dramatic? “You’re so self-destructive,” they complain.

“Don’t be mean,” you say, going back to pouting.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kris waves a hand at you. “Go write a poem about it.”

“And what if I do?” you demand, but you’re both laughing now, unlocking the registers as the lacrosse dudes line up to pay for their snacks and drinks.

–

Taehyung texts you near the end of your shift - “we haven’t hung out in five billion years :(“.

You roll your eyes at his dramatics and text back, “come get me from the bookstore then and hang out for a little”.

You’re pleased when he agrees. He shows up a little bit before closing, knocking on the already locked glass doors. You hurry to let him in, ignoring Kris staring knives into your back.

“Hi,” you say happily as he slips into the store, and you lock the door again behind him. “I’ll be done in about four minutes.”

“‘Kay,” he says easily, striding over to the checkout counter and leaning against it.

“Taehyung,” Kris greets him, nodding their head as they lock the register. “How’s it going?”

He sighs dramatically. “The usual. Classes. Parties. Trying to figure out why Y/N doesn’t love me anymore.”

You freeze halfway to the stockroom, your eyes wide, air catching in your throat.

Luckily, Kris is and always has been way more slick than you. They cock their head quizzically, letting a playfully concerned frown settle over their features.

“Y/N doesn’t love you anymore?” they echo, the poor baby pronounced in their tone. “What on earth do you mean?”

Taehyung shoots you a mischievous look; luckily, you’ve gotten your act together since he said those words.

“I had to beg for her attention tonight,” he says, clearly loving this bit. “I’m beginning to think she has a secret boyfriend she’s not telling me about.”

He’s teasing and you know it, but after a lifetime of friendship with Taehyung, you know this too: there’s a little sliver of him that must be hurt, or at least bothered, or he wouldn’t tease at all.

You feel both caught - despite not having a secret boyfriend or anything like it - and guilty.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I just got busy with my thesis and everything. I promise I’m not out with other people and not you. Even Kris only sees me at work these days.”

“And Namjoon,” Taehyung adds plaintively, and your blood runs cold.

“Namjoon?” you echo, not sure you can form a different word.

Taehyung’s pouting now, which means he’s not too serious. “Yeah, he has no choice, you’re in his living room every day.”

“Oh,” you say, relief flooding through you. “Yeah.”

You don’t see the point in telling Taehyung that there’s a teeny, tiny something starting with Namjoon. Not when it’s so… unformed, insubstantial, uncertain. You don’t know which word fits best. It’s a maybe at best, and it just doesn’t seem worth rocking the boat over it.

What would happen if things started for real? Would you tell him? It shouldn’t have to be a secret… it shouldn’t stay a secret, not if you mean it. What would happen?

You’re afraid to know the answers.

You finish up in the store and you all head to the parking lot together. You tell Kris goodbye and drop down into Taehyung’s passenger seat.

“You’re gonna stay at the apartment for a little?” you ask.

“Mhm,” he says, fiddling with the heat until he gets it how he wants it. “Can I work on homework with you?”

“Definitely,” you agree. “I have so much shit to do. I wasn’t kidding when I said school is eating my life. Senior year sucks.”

Taehyung isn’t looking at you - he’s watching the road as he waits for an opening in traffic so he can pull out of the parking lot. But something crosses his face - relief, maybe. Something softens, anyway. Maybe he really had been hurt that you hadn’t been hanging out as much.

When you return to the apartment, Namjoon isn’t home - his door hangs open, his bedroom completely dark.

You and Taehyung settle in the living room, dragging out your laptops. It’s nice, hanging out like this again. You hadn’t realized how long it had been - over a week - since it had been just the two of you, like old times. Everything falls right into place. You swap snacks, hands brushing as you both reach into crinkling chip bags. You reach over and type nonsense into his paper when he isn’t paying attention, letting out peals of laughter when he figures it out and starts spluttering at you in outrage. You tell him about the customer at the store who argued with you over - of all the stupid things - a used copy of The Odyssey.

When he hugs you goodbye at the end of the night, swaying you playfully back and forth like he might drop you, both of you giggling wildly, you’re reminded of just what the stakes are. You’re reminded of just how much you have to lose.

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ahhhhh what do we think??!! there was hand holding!!!! are we clutching our pearls??!!!

as always thank you all so so so much for being here, i appreciate every one of you so extremely much!!!

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