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writing-makes-me-human · 1 year

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🌊Love And Guests🌊

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Pairing: Aonung x reader

PART TWO: HERE

Summary: Aonung has put out your usual sass with his recent flirting and it’s driving you insane. When he finally gets to speak with you alone as he shows off his spear throwing expertise it gets heated quickly

Warnings: Sexual tension and heated word choices, no smut but it gets close, mention of genitals

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: No updates, I’m getting back into writing after months of breaks so I’m sorry if i’m rusty. Also I feel like it goes without saying that Aonung is of age in all of my writing. I am not just writing about a minor, you are close in age. 19 years old.

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"I still don't know why you think it's better that I teach you instead of my brother", Tsireya warmly suggested as she handed you a beginner's spear to practice with.

"Because I want to learn from the best", was all you managed to say as you took the spear in your hands and inspected it with wandering hands.

The real reason you were so eager to meet up with Tsireya instead of Aonung was laughable. Aonung had been playing a dangerous game with your feelings, making you feel a way you shouldn't to fuel your thoughts about the chief's son. Avoiding the brat to the best of your abilities for weeks now was the only way you could fight the fact you were slowly starting to become infatuated with the boy that was growing into a young man.

He had become cocky now that he was of age, and while he still had a few years of learning left before becoming chief, it had become clear his training was making him more and more defined. The way his body moved with every hearty laugh or every faux wrestling match with his friends drove you up the wall, so you decided it was best to try and stop seeing him altogether.

However, this was becoming a challenge as he had recently decided to spend more of his free time harassing you than anyone else. It was very confusing, as you thought you had put this bullying behind you when you were children. That could easily be forgotten, though, as he was indeed still the next leader, and that could explain his rudeness, but what couldn't be helped was the blush that overgrew you every time he towered over you with that smirk that he didn't know affected you in such unforgiving ways.

"Well, thank you, I'm flattered", she giggled, then continued, "but Aonung is the top in the clan at spear throwing, and he's not gonna be happy if he finds out you asked me instead of him", she never felt bad for her brother. Still, when it came to the matter of his undying yet, painfully expressed crush on you, she felt merciful.

You scoffed, squaring yourself next to her as you looked towards the targets drawn on the ground.

The target range for spear-throwing was closer to the village than any of the other training areas because you needed the clear ground to allow a large windup for hurling the stick through the air. It was still private, which you enjoyed because you had a feeling this was going to be an embarrassingly miserable display of physical prowess.

The targets were set up in the distance and made up of 3 circles of fine white sand sprinkled in precise shapes on the ground. Tsireya had already collected the sand earlier in the day and laid out the rings in exchange for you to be the one that churned the sand into the dirt when you were done so the next person who came to train could easily set up the rings and get started.

"I don't think I could handle his smugness at having me asking him a favor", you smiled at her, holding up the spear like you had seen Aonung and his friends do when they came here to learn when you were younger.

It was the truth. Honestly, you wouldn't have been able to handle his smug looks or laugh or the fact that to teach you meant one on one time by yourselves. You would prefer being lectured by Ronal, and that was saying something.

She nodded, trying to copy you as she held up the pointed end of the spear into the air, getting herself ready to fling the wooden spike. The artillery was too large for her, and you watched in curiosity as she heaved it up a little higher with a grunt.

"Alright, so what you want to do is pull back and using your back leg, you want to push--" she was cut off by the sound of laughter in the near vicinity. Before she could resume her instructions, you heard the sound of foliage and leafs being broken as a group of four boys emerged into the clearing, each of them but one with their spears by their side.

Aonung was still laughing at something Rotxo had said, but when he looked up and saw you, with your arms still raised as his sister mirrored you, he felt his heart skip a beat and his face light up with delight.

You cursed under your breath and dropped the stick like it was a venomous snake, instantly turning around to hide your slightly tinged face.

This was so unfair! He hadn't even said anything so far. All he had done was smile and laugh! He never had this much of a hold on you when he was younger. As he got older and his hair grew past his shoulders, and his muscles became larger, you became less aware of what to do with yourself.

"I have to go", you mumbled, feeling the tinge fade as you turned to pick up the burlap sack you had brought with you and leave for the village.

"Well, what is going on here?" Aonung called out in the conceited tone he saved for when he was talking to you. His deep voice boomed around the clearing, forcing its way into your ears and silencing the chatter between his other friends.

You didn't respond and instead made your way in the opposite direction they had come from, but before you could escape, a few words were yelled out, making your face nearly melt off your skull and onto the floor below you.

"Somewhere to be, pretty girl?" Aonung called out while his friends spread out, tossing down their training gear and lunches they had packed in preparation for a few hours of training.

You turned sharply, trying to calm your breathing so the blood would move from the gathering in your cheeks down to your heart which desperately needed the extra help because the poor thing was beating overtime.

"Just remembered I have somewhere to be", you said rather awkwardly, not allowing yourself to come across as timid but not quite having the energy to yell back at him with the same enthusiasm.

"Oh, come on! You said you wanted to learn from the best, and he's right here!" Tsireya spoke. She lay down her spear next to yours and jogged up to you. She grinned as she gently tugged on your hand, coaxing you to come and stand to talk to the boys who were checking over their weapons.

You sighed, then gave in, dropping the sack and letting her drag you over to Aonung, who was still standing in the same spot. As you walked over, he had a proud smile etched on his face, and you wanted nothing more than to slap it off.

Your face dropped so you could look anywhere but into his eyes that would have caught you in his dangerous trap of good looks and gentle teasing and never let you go.

"Come on, teach her!" Tsireya was far too excited, nearly jumping up and down while her older brother rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Who said I wanted to help?" He snarkly asked, then continued, "and next time you're thinking of using my spear, ask!" He spat, gesturing to the spike that was laid on the ground rather carelessly. That cleared up the question of why the spear had nearly tipped her over when she held it up.

She elbowed him roughly in the chest with her free arm causing him to bend down a little in pain and scowl at her, but no sound of agony came out.

He quickly straightened himself and snarled at Tsireya, but she gave him a pointed look before her eyes darted to you several times. After a few seconds, he finally got her unspoken threat and sighed, pushing past the both of you to walk over to collect his projectile.

You ignored the feeling of his hand burning on your shoulder as he pushed between you two, breaking the hold Tsireya had on you.

"Come on, pretty girl, let's see what you can do", he called out, not bothering to turn around because he knew you'd be following.

You looked over to Tsireya before you elbowed her yourself, questioning her with a look. She knew you didn't want to speak with him, yet here he was and instead of ushering him away, she had insisted he teaches you.

She simply shrugged at you and pushed you forward before running off to sit next to her brother's friends.

You passed by Rotxo and nodded to him in greetings which he returned before tucking into the fruits he had brought with him. He was chatting with his friends, who all found a spot under a nearby tree that was far enough away from the targets that they wouldn't hear you and Aonung's words to each other but still close enough that they could still see any funny failings.Your eyes settled on Aonung's back, and you took a deep breath, you didn't even have the shame to look away when he crouched down and picked up his spear, checking it over for dirt or marks.

"You watch me first, then you try", he said, glancing over to see you were watching him with eyes slightly wide at the idea of trying to copy his expert throw with an audience.

He smiled at you, which caused you to blush and break the stare you had been holding on his body, which only made him grin, thus continuing the terrible cycle.

"Eyes on me, nobody else is watching, so you can look at me as much as you want", he called you out with a smirk when you finally scowled, giving him a reaction that he couldn't help but chuckle at.

"I worry for anybody that enjoys looking at you", you hissed while taking a step back, knowing he would have to have some space to move when he threw the spike.

He didn't say anything this time but didn't have to. His eyes spoke for him as they shone like the sea on a sunny day.

"So she speaks! I was beginning to worry!" He watched you roll your eyes in amusement with a slight smile on your face, and he silently swore at himself in his head for turning so you wouldn't see his sly grin that he only got when he made you happy.

"Let's start", he wasted no more time and held the wooden stick over his head. You watched with slightly awestruck eyes as his body moved so purposefully.

He raised the spear, and using his other arm, he aimed to secure the direction he was throwing in. He could feel your eyes on him, and it made him cocky. He wanted to show off, to show you he was strong and worthy of praise.

He pulled back his left leg, then after taking a breath, he threw it with as much strength as it took to land directly in the centre of the target. They were far closer than he usually had them, but it was to be expected since you were a beginner.

The weapon shot through the air before the sharp spearhead dug into the ground with a thud, landing directly in the centre of the most petite ring. A perfect bullseye.

He leaned back with a satisfied grin. He turned to look at you with the hopes you would be at least slightly impressed. You were still staring, mouth open in an 'o' shape, struck somewhat by just how gifted at the sport he was, and it made a part of his internal body tingle when you turned with the look changing from amazement to an affectionate smile.

"I'll admit you aren't bad, I've seen worse", you couldn't help the smile anymore. He always had a way of killing off your anxiety, and right now was no different. His cocky grin made your heart speed up, but your mind just wanted to insult him until he dropped.

"If that's all it takes to impress you, I am afraid to know how easy it is to please you", he took no shame in his words, and your smile quickly dropped to embarrassed growls as you hid your face, turning to look over at his friends that were all talking to Tsireya about something at the same time. The discussion looked heated, and none of them paid attention to you two.

You watched, eyes as focused as ever.

"Arrogant brat", was all you could get out as you looked down at your feet and kicked at the dirt.

"Oh, did I touch a nerve? I didn't know you were such a goody-goody", he didn't wait for your smart-ass answer and walked off to tug his spear out of the ground sharply. Your mind was reeling as you heard a soft grunt escape his lips as he yanked his prize out of the ground.

You shook your head and bent down to pick up the training spear you had been given, not taking notice of your position that had your back to the sky until you felt a hand smack into your backside harshly.

The slap was loud, making your face turn scarlet red as you jumped up, abandoning the spike to glare at Aonung with a death stare.

You were shocked, he had never been so bold with his teasing, and while it wouldn't have crossed a line had you been alone, you could feel the four pairs of eyes gawking at the back of your head.

"Don't", you gently warned. You didn't want to admit it, and you knew it was wrong, and the pompous imp should have been ashamed of himself, Aonung should have been on his hands and knees begging to be forgiven, but a part of your brain was fighting not to jump his bones right now and embarrass him in front of his friends.

And he dared to look proud of himself as he laughed at your face, raising his hand in a half-assed attempt to hide the smile while you geared up to smack him across the face.

He noted how livid you looked and sighed. He hadn't meant to offend you. But when he was walking back and saw how your ass was staring at him like that, he couldn't resist the temptation.

"All right, I'm sorry" he held his hands up in surrender as a beam of playfulness poured from his eyes as a flirtatious grin overtook him.

"If you want to touch my body, ask, coward", you bit back, letting yourself grin as he took his turn of letting his mouth go slack at your actions.

"What's wrong pretty boy? Need some help?" you chuckled, nodding your head south. His eyes followed yours with a confused quirk on his brow as he looked down, and his eyes widened as he nervously took in that he had a half chub under his loin cloth.

You took a step back from him, feeling the heat between your legs signal it was time to go before you made some terrible mistakes that led you both behind a tree somewhere doing things you wanted to make him wait for.

He couldn't take his eyes off you, and as you felt the roles reversing, you suddenly understood why Aonung found the teasing so fun.

He looked back up at your smug face and peeked toward the group behind you with a silent plea in his eyes. Don't drag their attention down to his excitement.

"You need to learn some manners, Aonung, it's not becoming of the next chief to be so blatant in public, you've really hurt my feelings", you gave a dramatic exaggeration of a pout to him while your hands came to lay on your heart.

He was blocked from the sight line of his peers by where you were standing, but one step to the left or right and even from this distance, it was undeniable that he was hard.

He hadn't moved to cover his crotch yet but he dropped the spear, staring at you with begging eyes. It seemed that your sudden 360 from being a blushed-out lovesick moron to a vengeful demon had done nothing to ease him down, if anything, you made it worse.

You leaned forward, taking great pleasure in standing on your feet a little to get even with his ear, your hot breath panted onto his neck and he couldn't do anything to stop you. One move, and you'd be exposing him to his closest friends.

"Compared to me, I think it's you that's easy to please", you smiled, and he hated how he could feel the heat from your mouth as your teeth came so close to his neck that it drove him mad.

You quickly pulled away and smiled when you saw his eyes were closed, he was focusing on his breathing like he had you doing from his actions so many times before, and it felt so good to see him like this. A grown man that was bigger than you in every way imaginable was trying to calm his breath over you and your words.

"Well, this has been fun, but I'll see you later, Aonung", you felt confident for the first time in weeks and slowly, you felt the old you coming back, the sarcastic you that had just as much bark in you as Aonung.

You turned to leave, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to him, not quite flush against his body, lest one of the others looked up again and saw you two so close.

"Wait a few minutes, then follow me", he didn't give you the time to reply once again as he picked up the spear and finally had the dignity to cover himself with his free hand before walking off to go deeper into the forest without so much as a glance back.

Oh, you knew you shouldn't. You should turn around and leave, let the warrior get himself off in the forest like the animal he was acting like. Still, the heat that had signaled you to go nearly 5 minutes ago had grown, and you knew that even if it wasn't visible, your body was nearly 10x as horny as Aonung was.

You wanted him.

But you knew you couldn't mate here, and certainly not like this.

'Leave, leave leave', your mind screamed as your feet took step after step of their own volition after him.

You worried for a second that somebody would call out to you and ask where you were going, but a part of you knew that everyone had already worked out the nature of what was going on with you two. They had all been staring at you after he slapped your ass, so they must have.

"I'll just talk to him", you finally muttered to yourself as you set off in a faster pace, going off to find him.

#aonung #aonung x reader #aonung x you #ao'nung #ao'nung x y/n #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung x you #aonung x y/n #way of water #avatar 2 #avatar 2023 #avatar way of water #x reader #romance #aonung imagine #aoung x reader #atwow x reader #atwow headcanons #female reader

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maysileeewrites · 6 months

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a helping hand - John Murphy x reader

Summary: „Why are you helping me? I’m the bad guy, in case you forgot.“ Set during 1 x 10 (I am become Death), based on this teaser.

warnings: mentions of blood + injuries, angst, Murphy being Murphy (yes, he does have a soft side in this, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not still a dick); please lmk if I forgot something!

AN: I’m not quite sure whether anyone will still care for Murphy x reader in 2023, but I love my trash son so much, I just had to write something about him. Please let me know if you liked it!

You dip the bloodied cloth into the bucket filled with water, watching as the water slowly turns red. Your hands are bloody as well and there’s dried blood crested under your fingernails, but with all the sick teens around you needing medical attendance, you don’t have time to try to thoroughly wash your hands, so you just dip them into the water, grabbing a bar of soap, watching as the water turns an even deeper red.

Blood.

There’s just so much of it.

You sigh, standing up again. There’s no time for dwelling on your thoughts, not when the whole first floor of the Dropship is full of sick, coughing teenagers that need your help.

You go to Fox and Connor next, checking up on them. But apart from trying to clean them up - they’ve started coughing up blood as well - and getting them to drink some water, there isn’t much you can do to actually help them. You have no medicine, no painkillers - apart from Monty’s moonshine and considering that a painkiller really is a stretch in your opinion -, nothing. Only a few spare blankets you and Clarke gave out earlier, in order to help keep everyone warm.

A sudden wave of anger and irritation at your helplessness when faced with this unknown, dangerous virus overcomes you and you clench your fists in frustration. You allow yourself a moment to try and bury that emotion deep inside - because being this emotionally overwhelmed, you won’t be any help to the others -, closing your eyes and breathing deeply.

When you open your eyes again, they land on Murphy - who’s looking right back at you with his good eye, the other one is still swollen shut.

You gulp, trying to swallow down the nervousness that is suddenly clawing its way up your throat. Murphy’s the one who brought the disease into the Camp.

After being tortured by the grounders for days, you try to remind yourself. After being unceremoniously tossed out of Camp for a murder he didn’t commit. And while he’s definitely a rude asshole that can be a bit unpredictable at times - though you think more often than not he’s just lashing out when provoked, attacked, or in case of the whole Charlotte incident, wrongfully accused - you don’t think that he’s as bad as everyone makes him out to be.

But maybe that’s just you being naive, always wanting to see the good in people. He did try to go after Charlotte, after all. Though, you think, that probably had more to do with him seeking justice - a twisted, self-righteous kind of justice, but still justice - than vengeance.

You sigh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Whatever the deal with Murphy is - and whatever the reason for you to suddenly spend so much of your thoughts on him is - right now, it doesn’t matter.

Right now the only thing that matters is that he’s sick and hurt and he needs someone to help him clean up his wounds and that’s exactly what you’re here for.

So, you take a deep breath and square your shoulders, before walking over to him and dropping down in front of him. His blue-green eyes - the good one at least- meet yours for just a split second, but then he’s looking away again. You dip the cloth into the bucket of water - after helping Fox and Connor you’d gone out to get some fresh water - and reach out for him, but just when you’re about to touch him, he twists away from you.

„What’re you doing?“, he says, his voice low, distrust and irritation evident in his expression.

„Helping you“, you answer, gesturing to the wet cloth in your hands. „Someone needs to clean up your wounds, Murphy.“

He scoffs. „Yeah, right.“

You frown. „Look Murphy, just let me help you, please.“

He doesn’t say anything to that, doesn’t acknowledge your words with anything other than a raise of his eyebrows, but you decide to just take his lack of a verbal response as a good sign - or at least as a sign that he hopefully won’t refuse your help any further.

You wet the cloth cloth again, before carefully reaching your hand out to him again. This time, he doesn’t twist away from you, so you gingerly touch his bloodied and scarred cheek with your fingertips, before carefully applying pressure with the cloth.

All the while, Murphy looks at you, an undecipherable emotion in his blue-green eyes. The intensity of his gaze is distracting, and you swallow, trying to concentrate on cleaning up his wounds, trying to ignore the burning heat of his gaze. Though it’s impossible to really ignore it, with you two being so close that you can feel his warm breath ghosting over your skin, causing you to shiver.

Something shifts in Murphy’s expression then - if you weren’t paying so much attention, you might’ve missed it, but as it is, you can see the bitter smirk that crosses his lips for an instant, before he bites down hard on his lips.

Your eyes meet then. You swallow - you feel caught in his stare, unable to look at anything but him.

„Why are you helping me?“, he asks you, his voice low and raspy and laced with something that almost sounds like desperation. „I’m the bad guy, in case you forgot.“

„Because you need help“, you say, underlining your words by lightly trailing your fingertips over the deep cut on his left cheek. „And because I want to understand you.“ It’s true - you do want to understand him. You want to know how he came to be who he is today, why on earth he set fire to a room on the Ark.

And fuck. This - this is dangerous.

That bitter smirk crosses his face again. „Oh, so you want to know why I’m such a jerk, why I told the Camp’s location to the grounders, is that it?“

„You were tortured“, you say softly, but Murphy only scoffs.

„Yeah, I’m afraid that doesn’t count as an excuse“, he says, voice full of bitterness.

„Wha-“, you start to say, but then you remember that you saw Bellamy talking to Murphy earlier. And yes, that would certainly explain Murphy’s comments about his being tortured not being an excuse for giving up your location.

You sigh frustratedly. Of course you know that Bellamy only wants to protect everyone at Camp, but you also know him well enough to imagine him making some kind of petty remark how he wouldn’t have caved under torture, wouldn’t have given up the Camp’s location.

Which - fuck that. Anyone would eventually cave under torture, even someone as strong-willed and fierce as Bellamy.

Murphy’s hiss of pain when you accidentally linger too long on one of his cuts with your fingertips draws you out of your thoughts. „Sorry“ you say, biting your lip.

Murphy just shrugs and suddenly you’re hit with the desperate urge to help him, even though you’re not quite sure if there even is anything you can do that could make his situation better - apart from cleaning up his wounds, which you already are doing.

„I’m sorry for what happened to you“, you say then, looking at him. „That’s not - I can only imagine what you went through and I really am sorry that that happened to you.“

Murphy looks at you, confusion and irritation evident in his expression.

„And I know that won’t change anything-“

„No it won’t“, Murphy interrupts you, but this time, there’s no venom in his voice - just pain and resignation. „But it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before.“

Now it’s your turn to be confused. As you continue cleaning up his wounds, you mull over his words in your mind, trying to understand what he’s implying with his words. Does he mean that he was tortured on the Ark? But that can’t be right, can it? Yes, the Ark’s council is strict and unforgiving, but you haven’t heard about them torturing somebody.

„Can you even see anything like that?“, Murphy says, interrupting your thought process, and suddenly he’s reaching out with one hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You swallow, trying desperately not to show how much that one little touch affected you. But your heart is thundering so loudly in your chest that you’re convinced that he’s able to hear it.

Especially once you can no longer pretend to re-inspect the cuts on his face yet again - you really need to take a look at the wounds on his chest.

You clear your throat, trying to sound more confident than you feel. „I - uh - I need to take a look at the wounds on your chest, judging by all that blood I’ll probably need to do some stitches … uhm could you - uh - maybe take off your shirt?“

Kill me, you think, wanting to die from embarrassment. Of course, the first time you’ll see a boy without his shirt on - apart from some of the boys that walk around Camp shirtless in the morning and you don’t think that they actually count - has to be in this weird situation.

As if reading your thoughts, Murphy just smirks, before taking off his shirt. But just when’s almost free of his shirt, he hisses, his face screwing up in pain.

„Let me“, you say, helping him.

For a moment, you just stare at each other breathlessly.

Then, so quietly that you’re not quite sure whether you’ve imagined it, he says: „Thank you.“

You nod, clearing your throat. Not knowing what else to say, you start inspecting his chest, lightly trailing your fingertips over the various scratches and other wounds - trying not to be distracted by his muscles you can feel under your fingertips and his burning gaze.

Murphy hisses again when your fingers brush over a particularly deep wound. „Sorry“, you murmur, leaning in even closer to get a better look at his wound. „This wound needs some stitches, I’m, uh, going to get a needle and some thread.“

You get up and walk over to where all the medical supplies are stored, thankful for this short moment away from Murphy, his intense stare and your confusing thoughts about him.

„Here“, you say, after sitting down in front of Murphy again and hand him the bottle of moonshine you’ve grabbed as well, „you might want to drink this before I get started on those stitches.“

Murphy just nods, taking the bottle of moonshine from you and taking a long, big sip. „Do your worst“, he says, prompting you to roll your eyes.

„Thanks for the vote of confidence“, you murmur, though you can understand why he’d be apprehensive about this. If it were you being in his situation, you’d rather be stitched up by a trained doctor as well, but since you teens are all on your own and Clarke, the only one of you with actual medical training is currently getting some well-deserved sleep, you’re his only option. Unlike Clarke, you haven’t received any actual medical training but you do know how to give stitches - in theory at least - so you hopefully won’t screw this up.

Here goes nothing, you think, getting started on the stitches.

Murphy bites down hard on his lips, though a slight hiss still escapes him.

You cringe, shooting him an apologetic smile before concentrating on his wound again. „Sorry.“

Murphy doesn’t say anything in response, just nods.

You’re both quiet as you continue with the stitches. Then, when you’re almost done, Murphy suddenly says: „I got real sick when I was thirteen … only made it because my dad stole some medicine for me ... course, he got floated for it …“

You swallow, meeting his gaze. You don’t know why he’s suddenly telling you this - you just know that the story he’s about to tell you most likely won’t have a happy ending.

Murphy looks away from you then, laughing bitterly. „My mother … she was never the same after his death … She started drinking. Blamed me for his death. Told me everyday that I’m a worthless good-for-nothing that’s responsible for his father’s death. She died three years after him … and I just-“

He stops talking then, shaking his head.

„Murphy, I-“, you start to say, though you stop as well, not quite knowing what it is that you actually want to say. Murphy suddenly opening up to you is so confusing and his story so heartbreaking, you’re not quite sure what the appropriate words for this situation are, let alone if there even are any.

„Anyway“, Murphy now says, voice tinged with bitterness, „I just - I had all this pai- anger in me and I didn’t know how to handle it, how to let it out. So I set fire to those rooms, got arrested.“

„Murphy …“, you say, your voice hollow, your heart breaking for the broken, angry boy in front of.

He laughs dryly, though the sound has a wheezing quality to it that instantly worries you. „You wanted to know, didn’t you? Wanted to understand why I became such a jerk. Well, there you have it.“

„I do“, you say, putting away the needle and thread and looking at Murphy, meeting his gaze. „I do understand you, Murphy. I still think you’re an opportunistic jerk, but I understand, I really do. I - I know that it’s not worth much, but I am sorry that this happened to you, it’s awful.“

Murphy just shrugs, not saying anything.

But he’s still looking at you and now that you know what to look for, now that you finally understand him better, you see the pain in his expression.

Not just due to the torture. There’s so much more, pain that’s probably been building in him for years and that he turned into sharp, pointed hate and anger, because he didn’t know how to deal with all of his pain.

You want to help him, though you don’t really know how and why. Yes, he is a rude jerk and at Camp he was also somewhat of a bully, but you think that that’s most likely due to him not knowing how to communicate in something that’s not just anger and aggression. But you also believe that there’s more to him - that he’s not just this lonely, broken, rude jerk that that’s probably just a facade he’s hiding behind.

„I understand, Murphy“, you say again, still looking at the storm of emotions in his green-blue eyes. Something shifts in Murphy’s expression then - he’s listening to you and something in his gaze tells you that he believes your words, believes you. „I truly do. But there’s more to life than just pain, anger and aggression.“

With that, you reach out a hand, softly grasping one of his hands with yours. You’re not quite sure why you’re doing it, you just know that you want to be there for Murphy, that you want to help him - and that you want him to understand that you truly mean your words.

Murphy’s arm jerks, as if he wants to rip his hand out of your grasp, but then he grasps your hand, squeezing it lightly. He reaches up with his other hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

Just like before, your breath hitches. But this - this is different than before. This time, there’s no venom in Murphy’s gaze, no quiet challenge, no pent-up anger. Just curiosity and something softer that you can’t quite describe.

„I still don’t really get why you’re helping me“, Murphy says, leaning even closer to you. You’re so close that you could count the lashes on his good eye. You feel his breath ghosting over your skin and you shiver in anticipation.

„But I’m glad that I let you.“ With that, he leans in even closer, searching your eyes and whatever he sees in them, must convince him. He presses his lips to yours and you’re so overwhelmed that you don’t know how to react. But just when you feel Murphy starting to pull away, you kiss him back, bringing your free hand up to his neck.

You feel him smirk into the kiss and if you weren’t currently kissing him, you’d definitely roll your eyes at him. As it is, you continue kissing him, though you give his hand a squeeze that’s probably a bit too harsh.

Murphy just smirks again, deepening the kiss and tangling his hand in your hair. You can feel your heart start to beat faster and there’s a curious sensation in your stomach that feels like those butterflies that you’ve read about in books.

You lose yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of Murphy.

Kissing Murphy feels good, though his lips are chapped and dry and he hisses in pain when you overeagerly lean a little too much against him. But still - kissing Murphy feels good.

And even though you’re still confused and you know that one conversation won’t suddenly make him sunshine personified - you like his dry sarcasm way too much for that - you also know that you want more. You want to get to know Murphy, really get to know him, you want to be there for him. And if there are more occasions to kiss him along the way of getting to know him and helping him, then you certainly won’t complain about that.

Murphy gives you one last, bruising kiss, before breaking the kiss, breathlessly leaning his forehead against yours.

„I - Murphy - what …“, you stammer, still too wound up from the kiss.

Murphy smirks. „That was thank you.“

You can’t help but roll your eyes. „I see“, you say dryly.

„For stitching me up … and for not giving up on me“, Murphy adds, his voice serious again.

You smile softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his eye. „I’ll be sure to stick around then.“

Murphy grins, though there’s a vulnerability to it now that wasn’t there before. „Doesn’t sound too bad …“

„Yeah, it doesn’t“, you agree, before leaning up to kiss him again.

You feel him smiling into the kiss, causing you to smile as well.

Yes, the road ahead is not going to be easy - this is John Murphy, resident sarcastic, rude asshole, after all - but you’re not afraid to walk it with Murphy.

#john murphy x you #john murphy x reader #john murphy imagine #john murphy the 100 #john murphy #the 100 #the 100 imagine #the 100 tv #richard harmon #john mother fucking murphy #the 100 x reader #the 100 x you #maysileewrites

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the-modern-typewriter · 1 year

Note

If you're looking for any prompts; hero/villain where the hero needs to get out of the villains grasp but can't and as a last ditch effort kisses the villain in a panic, hoping it'll startle them enough to let them go. Surprisingly it works. mlm if you're feeling up for it! (I ADORE you're hero/villain stuff and you're writing is a huge inspiration!!)

He kissed the villain.

It was a clumsy kiss, a mashing of lips, a bumping of noses and then -

The villain recoiled just as something sparked between them, so hard that he hit the opposite wall with a thud. He clamped a hand over his mouth.

The hero panted for breath. He should have taken the opportunity to run - that was why he'd kissed the villain in the first place - but something about the villain's expression froze him in place.

If the villain had looked disgusted, he might have laughed it off. If he'd looked dazed or distracted, the hero would already have gone. But he looked...

"Are you okay?" the hero asked.

The villain was shaking.

"Come on, I'm not that bad a kisser," the hero said. Maybe it was a trap. A con. He definitely should have already ran but...

"I'm sorry," the hero said.

"Why would you do that?"

"I - I just wanted to distract you. I panicked."

"You panicked?"

That was probably really offensive.

"Your panic reaction," the villain pressed, "is a kiss? Or, what, you just want to kiss me that bad that it was at the forefront of your mind?"

The hero swallowed. They floundered. "I'm sorry if I - are you okay?"

"It's rude to kiss people without consent," the villain said, a little closer to their normal tone. "You know that, yes?"

"It felt kinder than, I don't know, non-consensually kicking you in the balls."

The villain snorted.

The hero edged a step back, but, like a fool, still didn't run. The villain had let go of him, though. Running was a possibility without those steely, impossibly strong arms holding him in place.

Lord, why wasn't he running?

The villain's gaze roamed over his face, lingering on his lips.

"So I assume you're, like, seeing someone," the hero said, taking another step back. He ignored the weird feeling in his gut.

"No."

"You don't like kissing?"

"I don't owe you an explanation," the villain snapped. "You're not supposed to kiss me."

"You seemed like you were definitely enjoying it for a second there. Also, you're staring at my mouth, mate."

The villain's gaze shot away. His shoulders squared, jaw clenching.

"Just want to know that you're okay and that I haven't triggered a trauma or anything," the hero said. "I wasn't thinking. I - I really am sorry."

"This is the most I've ever heard you apologise."

The villain didn't normally look like that. He was still pressed against the wall, rather than lunging, even with the obvious conversation about distractions. His hand was still shaking slightly.

The villain stuffed his hand behind his back when he caught the hero watching.

Maybe the villain was stalling for time, and back up.

The hero didn't think he was stalling.

"I kill anyone I kiss," the villain said, after a moment. "Properly kiss. It takes a moment for the curse to take affect."

"...are you serious right now?"

The villain gave him a withering look.

"That's very scary and all," the hero said, "but it doesn't answer my question."

"Yes, I'm serious! Want me to kiss you so you can find out?"

The hero's brow furrowed. If that was true, then the villain's reaction, his shaking hands..."Oh my god you were worried about me. You're protecting me."

"If I wanted to kill you-" The villain began, testily.

"No, no, you don't need to get defensive. I know you're not - like - secretly a marshmallow."

They both eyed each other for a moment. The villain's gaze had paused on the hero's lips again, filled with enough longing that it made the hero's chest cleave and his mouth go dry.

"Is it just your mouth?" the hero asked.

"What?"

"The killer kissing thing. Just your mouth? Or, like, if anyone kisses you anywhere."

"Just my mouth. Not that it's any of your-"

The hero stepped close, and pressed a kiss to the villain's cheek.

The villain's breath hitched. He looked dazed. Distracted.

"Shame," the hero murmured, and brushed a thumb over the villain's lower lip, watching their eyes go doe-wide and wanting. "Because kissing you actually was on the forefront of my mind."

"O-oh."

He pressed another kiss to the villain's neck, feeling his pulse race, feeling his head tip back against the wall in offering.

"Thanks for not killing me," the hero said, against his ear. "Let's pick this up another time, yeah?"

Then, he ran.

He heard the villain curse and take chase.

But it felt better than before.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #writing #story #kissing #fantasy #fic #ficlet #writing snippet #story snippet #enemies to lovers

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moonstruckme · 8 months

Note

I absolutely love your writing!! Could I request some hurt/comfort poly!marauders? Like maybe people are judging/really rude to reader about their relationship and the boys defend her and their relationship and make her feel better 🥹

Absolutely you can! Hope this is what you were looking for babe <3

cw: bullying, sexual shaming

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

“Whore,” Lucius hisses as he brushes past you in the hall.

You hear James’ inhale beside you a second before you whirl. “What was that, Malfoy?”

“Too fucked out to hear me?” he sneers, coming to a stop and turning to face you. Your heart stutters at his words, but you’re careful not to let anything show on your face. “Don’t suppose you’re good for much except sucking dick, but I have to say, I’m impressed those Gryffindors caught onto it before the rest of us. I mean, why else would they bring you in on their precious trio?” His lip curls, and while there’s amusement there, there’s also genuine disgust that makes some small, pathetic part of you shrivel up in shame. “Slut.”

“Sweetheart?” James asks, and you wonder if the restraint in his voice is as obvious to everyone else as it is to you. Want me to step in here?

You shake your head at him, but your stare is zeroed in on Lucius. You pout at him sympathetically. “I know it must be hard for you to understand. How’d I get three hot people interested in me, when you can't even get one to look your way?” You shoot him your best impression of Sirius’ wolfish grin. “Don’t worry, Malfoy, someone will come along who’s into all your inbred, Nazi bullshit one day. Maybe even a cousin, if you’re lucky!”

You continue back on your way, pretending you don’t need the steadying hand James rests at the small of your back as you stride down the hall. You make it through the common room, up the stairs, and into the boys’ dorm room before you lose momentum, releasing a shell-shocked, tremulous breath.

James’ arms are around you in an instant, though it takes you a second longer to melt into his embrace.

“Are you okay? You seemed like you wanted to handle it yourself, but I wasn’t sure.”

You take a deep breath. “No, you were right. Thanks, Jamie. It just would have made it worse if it looked like I couldn’t defend myself.”

There’s a shuffling of sheets, and you turn your head to find you’d been so distracted you hadn’t noticed Remus on his bed, studying. He sits up to look at the pair of you with concerned amber eyes, a question evident in his face.

James saves you from responding, clutching you tighter and pressing a kiss to your head. “Had a run-in with Malfoy.”

Remus sighs, the sound knowing. “That’s never good, is it?” His gaze falls squarely on you. “You alright, lovely?”

You nod automatically, though your hands are trembling slightly. You’ve never been good at conflict, but pricks like Malfoy sometimes require you to rise to the occasion. It bothers you that someone like him, whom you don’t respect and whose opinion you couldn’t value less, can still rattle you like this. You know your relationship is unconventional, but it’s good. You haven’t been dating for very long, but you feel the rightness of it every day. Your boyfriends treat you better than anyone can reasonably deserve. You love them. Still…

“Do you think that’s what everyone thinks?” You extricate yourself from James, trying not to sound as pathetic as you feel. At Remus’ bemused expression, you add, “That you guys are only dating me because I put out, I mean.”

James looks horrified. “Do you think that?”

“No,” you say, apparently too quickly, because neither boy looks like they believe you. “I don’t. I just…I don’t know, it’s stupid to care what people think, right?”

James bites his lip, and Remus looks at you consideringly. “I wouldn’t call it stupid,” he says after a moment. “It may not be the best guiding principle to always do what people want you to, but they’re not usually easy to ignore either.”

You heave a sigh, collapsing onto Sirius’ empty bed. “Exactly. I don’t want everyone calling me a slut all the time now.”

Remus’ eyebrows shoot up. “What exactly did Malfoy say to you?”

You hesitate, looking to James in the hopes he’ll answer for you again, but before either of you can say anything, Sirius whooshes in the door.

He completely fails to read the room, all bright eyes and good spirits as he struts over to his bed and leans down over you, his forearms on either side of your head.

“I just heard about your Malfoy kerfuffle from Marlene,” he says, kissing you with a smack. “That’s my girl.”

You can’t help but smile a little, his energy infectious. James gets in on the action too, patting your cheek as he sits down beside the two of you. “She was pretty amazing,” he says. “I thought Malfoy was going to shit the stick right out of his ass.”

“Alright,” Remus says, the tiniest hint of impatience in his tone, “apparently I need to be caught up. What happened?”

“Our sweet angel said that Malfoy gets no bitches,” Sirius proclaimed proudly. “And then she told him to fuck one of his cousins.”

“Well,” you say sheepishly, sitting up, “that’s not exactly word-for-word.”

Remus quirks an eyebrow, but he’s smiling. “No? Give me the summary, then.”

“Basically, Malfoy said you guys only brought me in on your relationship because I put out, and uh, something about me only being good for sucking dick,” you say hesitantly, as if every word he uttered isn’t going to be seared into your memory forever. “So then I said he was jealous that I got three people to like me while he has no one, but…um, I did say something like maybe if he was lucky, he’d find a cousin that was into him.”

All three of the boys are grinning at you, and Sirius plants another smacker on your cheek.

“Attagirl,” Remus says, nodding approvingly.

“Thanks.” You hope your face isn’t as red as it feels. “I guess now, I’m just a little worried that Lucius was just the only one who would say something? Like, what if everyone else is thinking the same thing?”

“Sweetheart,” James says, reaching around you to rub your upper arm comfortingly, “anyone who’s spoken to you for, like, point five seconds is gonna know that’s not true.”

“Wait.” Sirius shakes his head, working to catch up to the conversation that started when he wasn’t in the room. “Are you really worried about what that prick said?”

You shrug, sheepish and a bit ashamed. “It’s not him, it’s more like…my classmates, and my professors. I wonder who agrees with him.”

“Baby, anyone who agrees with Lucius Malfoy is just placing themselves in the same camp of idiots he’s in,” Sirius insists. His tone is light, but his eyes lock in on yours, feeling out how serious you are about this. “Our relationship isn’t anybody’s business, but our friends already know how you are, and they’ll defend you to anyone who asks.”

Remus nods. “Agreed. If anyone wants to believe that sort of baseless, cruel gossip, they’re probably not the lot you want to be around anyways. Just like Malfoy, yeah? If you cared what he thought,” Remus pauses to raise a playful eyebrow at you, “you probably wouldn’t be suggesting he fuck his cousins.”

You grin. “Please, like he needed my encouragement on that one. You’re right, though, thanks.”

James squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t let him get in your head, sweetheart. Everyone who matters already knows he’s full of shit.”

“Yeah, and you should’ve heard Marl boasting about you in the common room,” Sirius adds. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she buys your butterbeers next time we’re in Hogsmeade.”

You laugh, but stop when Remus levels you with a serious look. “Anyone talks like that to you again, you come straight to us, understand?”

You nod, and Sirius drags you into his side, eager to lighten the mood again. “Yeah,” he declares, “if anyone’s calling you a slut, it needs to be consensual, and it ought to be me.”

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 2 months

Text

A/N ::: Anyone that has breast tissue knows that shit can HURT . Like, o-u-c-h. And our darling Mikey from TR seem to like to push that envelope a little passed where it should have stopped. Listening to THIS playlist right now but got so hooked on #4 that I'm already tired of hearing it.

C/W ::: Rude bf, boob stuff (play, teasing, mean and not mean, sucking, licking, flicking, pulling - whatever I come up with along the way but that's the gist of it).

WC ::: 2,169 (actual body of fun reading part)

* Gets an unmistakable smirk on his face when you wince and retreat from his touch because he knows for the next week or so, your tits are going to be at their most sensitive. And he can't wait.

* Lays low for a while (hours, not days - because he doesn't want you to think he's up to something, even though he most definitely is.)

* Will hug you from behind and cross his arms over your chest and pull you close.

* Doesn't let go right away when you say "Ow, loosen your grip, my tits hurt."

* Turns you around and presses himself right against the front of your body and buries his nose in your neck, kissing you sweetly and softly.

* Absolutely comes off like he cares and like he feels genuinely bad for you but this is too good an opportunity to pass up.

* He'll pull you into the bathroom and turn the hot water on, making it a little hotter than you usually like it and tells you to trust him.

* You give him the side-eye because what the actual fuck is he up to right now. (You already know because he doesn't let a month pass since this started with him where he doesn't give your aching tits the attention he 100% believes they deserve.) But you go along with it because a hot shower would feel really good right now and neither of you have anywhere else to be - for once - so you play along.

* He undresses you like you're a porcelain doll that is about to shatter if he moves too quickly (don't worry, he'll start moving faster.)

* With each new square inch of skin that he uncovers he lays down the most breathtaking kisses. You can't help but melt under his touch.

* Once he's got you nice and pliable beneath him naked, he will take your hand and look you in the eyes like he still can't believe you're with him.

* He takes you into the shower and turns the water to a light spray (because oh my fuck, those harder sprays can KILL).

* Runs his hands over your body, not paying any attention to your breasts and nipples just yet, he's getting you needy and wanting his touch elsewhere (you both know how much you fold when he's playing with your tits in his special "Mikey way."

* He'll start at your shoulders, rubbing deep circles into the muscle with his strong thumbs.

* His dick starts to twitch to life when you let that first sigh/moan out.

* Knows he's on the right track as soon as your head falls forward/backward - that all depends on where he's standing.

* Asks you if that feels good - knows fuckin' well it does feel good, he just likes to hear you say it.

* Works his way down, kneading your lower back and buttocks - making sure to give them a cute little smack every now and again.

* Finally, he'll come back up and stand behind you, his chest pressed up against your back, his cock rubbing between your cheeks (but not in a "let me fuck you" kinda way - more in a "I wanna make you feel so good you won't be able to handle it" kinda way.)

* He'll snake his hands down to your waist and bring his arms around to your belly and slide them up to cup your tits - one in each hand, of course.

* You'll tense up for a second as he starts to massage your breasts.

* He'll ask you to relax and just enjoy the sensation, and that it's all for your pleasure.

* You'll lean back against him, letting him take your weight and he'll start to move his hands up and down, side to side, making sure to hit every inch of your chest.

* He'll tell you how he loves your tits - loves the way they feel in his hands, how they fill up his palms and then some.

* He'll let his thumbs brush over your nipples, slowly, gently at first.

* You'll shiver against him and he'll know he's onto something good here.

* He'll start to work your nipples over more - circling, pinching, flicking, and pulling - all still very gently ... for the time being.

* He is always on the right track, though. It's fucking Mikey. He knows more than he lets on sometimes.

* Will start to ask you how you're feeling - knows the answer but, again, wants to hear you whisper it to him.

* When you say it - whatever "it" is - he will turn you around and drop to his knees.

* His eyes will be dark and full of lust, but his touch will still be gentle - he knows you're already on edge and he doesn't wanna push too far/too fast/too much.

* First you'll feel his breath against your skin and it only escalates from there.

* He'll kiss your nipples, barely grazing them with his tongue.

* Then he'll latch on and suck, hard.

* Your legs will start to shake and you'll wonder why you didn't just let him do this to you when you had your period when you two first got together.

* He'll remind you, "There is pleasure to be had in pain, sometimes. It's all about context, mamas."

* Waits patiently for you to roll your hips forward because he is the king of calling you the right name at the right time - also, made a mental note that you like to be called "mamas" ONLY when you're ovulating/on your period. Something about the way he says it all breathy like against your ear or your neck or your pussy. The man could start his own religion and you're sure many would follow it to a T.

* He'll keep sucking and licking and biting at your tits until you're squirming against him, desperate for some attention elsewhere.

* He'll reach down and slide a hand between your thighs and start to ghost his fingers over your clit in slow circles.

* You'll buck against his hand and he'll let out a low groan.

* He'll pull back just enough to look at your face as he traces 8's over your, now really, wet hole.

* Asks you if you want him to put his fingers inside you.

* You'll nod and beg him to - you can't help it.

* He'll push two fingers into your cunt and curl them upward, hitting your g-spot just right.

* You'll moan so loud that you're sure the neighbors will be able to hear you. (Neither of you care what they hear, though. If they don't want to hear that shit then they shouldn't be listening.)

* He'll start to fuck you with his fingers, slow at first - and then faster and deeper, his thumb pressed against your clit.

* You'll wrap your arms around his neck and he'll hold you close as you come undone around his fingers.

* When you start to come down, he'll give you a minute to breathe before he gets down on his knees in front of you again.

* He'll spread your legs and bury his face between your thighs, licking and sucking at your clit while you thread your fingers through his wet, blond hair.

* He'll suck and slurp and moan against you, sending vibrations straight to your core.

* He'll push you back against the shower wall and keep going until you're cumming on his tongue, calling out his name and telling him to "never stop, never stop, never stop."

* You'll regret your choice of words because he WON'T STOP and you will have to literally push him away because you're too sensitive and you know he could make you cum a million times before the sun comes up.

* He'll give you that smug look that you can't help but love and he laughs and pulls you in for a hug.

* After you've both caught your breath, he'll wash your hair, his hair and both of your bodies.

* He still looks at you like a starved animal. His eyes are as dark as they were when he first got you in there and there's something so primal about how his muscles move beneath his skin. It makes you want to fuck him.

* And yeah, he knows. He sees you looking at his back when he reaches for the towel on the rack. You're so oblivious right now to things that otherwise make perfect sense that you forget he can see you in the mirror.

* You get out and dry off and he wraps you up in your robe and asks if you want him to rub some cocoa butter on your nipples for you.

* You nod and he grabs some from the cabinet and tells you to go lay back on the bed.

* He'll straddle your waist and scoop some out until he has a generous amount on his hands.

* He'll warm it up in his palms and then start to gently massage it into your breasts, taking his time and making sure he gets every inch of skin.

* He'll look at you like he's waiting for you to say something, but you won't - not yet. You know he's working up to something.

* He'll finally ask if you feel better and you nod.

* He'll smirk and lean down and start to kiss your nipples, one at a time, slowly.

* You'll ask him what he's doing and he'll just smile and continue kissing and sucking your nipples.

* He'll suck hard and bite gently, then pull back and blow on them.

* Your pussy will start to get wet (again) and your hips have a mind of their own (again) and he'll know he's doing something right (again.)

* He'll crawl around your body until he's positioned just right and start to kiss your neck, your collarbone, your chest, your stomach, and your thighs.

* He'll push your legs apart and tell you to keep your eyes on him.

* He'll get back down on his knees and push your legs further apart and start to lick your pussy from top to bottom.

* He'll bury his tongue in your folds and suck at your clit until you're begging him to stop.

* He'll push two fingers inside you and start to pump them in and out of you as he sucks your clit.

* You'll buck against his hand and cum on his fingers, crying out his name - repeatedly.

* He'll give you a minute to catch your breath before he starts to line his leaking cock up with your entrance.

* He'll ask you if you want him to fuck you and you'll nod yes, pleading with your eyes for him to fill you up.

* And he'll tell you that's not sufficient, that he wants you to tell him how badly you want his cock.

* "Wanna hear the words, mamas." He leans down and kisses your neck until you're practically crying from being so turned on. "Gonna give that pretty pussy a high-five with my cock, don' leave me hangin', love."

* You have no idea how you're completely and utterly enchanted by him, but you oblige and turn your head so your mouth is against his ear, "Mi-key, wan' you n'side uh'me, pl-please ..."

* He gets that cocky look on his face because he got you to do exactly what he wanted and he'll push into your pussy - slowly - inch by inch, until he's balls deep inside you.

* The way he moves should be criminal. Like, he hits you right every time - your clit, your whole pussy is so happy.

* He fucks you hard and deep and slow - then fast and shallow - then hard and deep again.

* He'll change positions at least five times, all while fucking you like he's never going to get another chance.

* You'll cum again before he even starts to get close, but he's not done with you yet.

* He'll pull out and turn you around, bending you over the bed and pushing into you from behind.

* He'll reach around and play with your tits while he pounds into you - telling you how much he loves the way they - and all of you - bounce and jiggle against his touch.

* He'll start to rub your clit again and you'll cum around him, hard and surprisingly drawn out.

* He'll keep fucking you from behind until he cums, filling you up and saying your name.

* He'll pull out and collapse on the bed next to you.

* You'll lay there and catch your breath, wondering why you didn't let him play with your tits from the get-go.

* He'll wrap his arms around you and pull you close.

* Asks you if you feel better now.

* You'll say yes and thank him.

* He'll kiss you softly and tell you that he loves you and he knows you love him too.

* You'll smack him in the arm and laugh. "Oh, so you think you can just get whatever you want because I love you? Is that it?"

* He'll shrug and tell you that he's just that good.

* And you can't deny that he is. So you'll snuggle up together and fall asleep with your tits pressed against his chest.

@katshimizuu @kazutora-kurokawa @southside-otaku @darkstarlight82 @viburnt @arlerts-angel

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beybaldes · 9 months

Text

It hits different cause it's you

summer sleepover masterlist

jamie tartt x gn!reader

summary : “passionate kissing, pressed up against a wall.” Requested by anon.

contebt warning: one use of yn, throw up, Jamie being insanely jealous, Roy being a big brother figure, angst In the form of Jamie being self deprecating to fluff, allusions to smut but non written.

There was not a square inch of the Crown and Anchor that wasn't buzzing with life; the whole Richmond team, players and otherwise, were crammed into the tiny, town centre pub.

"Hey, who's that?" Jamie didn't recognise the tall blonde that had his arm around your shoulders, prompting him to sharply nudge Sam in his side, attempting to gain some insight as to who he was. Obviously, he wasn't a member of the team or the staff, he knew that much, but if someone had brought him as their plus one, it was rude of him to try and make moves on his friends friend. Jamie nearly spat his drink out at Sam's words. "They have a boyfriend?"

"Well, boyfriend is a strong word really, they've just seen each other a few times." Roy added, now suddenly beside Jamie and Sam with a frown firmly on his face. Even though it was a familiar sight, it had an even darker twinge to it then usual.

"And how would you know that?" Jamie scoffed, arms folding tighter across his chest as he watched the guy pull you over to the bar, his arm wrapped around you, guiding you through the crowd.

"They told me." Roy answered shortly with a shrug of his shoulders. "Though they also told me the guys a fucking prick." Now that had caught Jamie's attention. With each word that slipped past Roy's lips, Jamie could recognise the look of disproval more and more. "Forgot to show up for one of their dates and they had to run home in the fucking rain."

"Fucking prick." Jamie half expected some comment from Roy about how he, himself, was a prick, but it never came, him so focused on burning a hole into the head of the blonde who had his best friend - though Roy would never admit to you being his best friend - entranced.

"You should go and save them Jamie." Sam suggested, a smile pulling at his lips as he nudged Jamie's side teasingly. "They deserve better than him."

"What? And they deserve me? Right." Jamie scoffed, taking a swig of his drink as he continued to stare at the scene before him, unease filling his stomach as he dwelled on the way your smile filled your face and the way your shirt defined everything perfectly.

"Cut that shit out." Surprisingly, that came from Roy. "You're...well...you're a fucking half decent guy, Tartt. Y/n would be lucky to have you."

"Aw, Roy." Jamie cooed, reaching up to pinch at Roy's cheeks like you would a cute baby. Though before he could make contact, Roy had slapped his hand away, a scowl settling on his lips "You're so kind."

"Fuck off." Roy left at that, walking across the room to meet you and your date for the night at the bar.

"Hey, Angel." Roy saddled up next to you at the bar, slipping a hand around your waist and pulling you into a side hug. When you pulled him into a proper one, he took the opportunity to glare daggers at your date, who, in great shock to Roy, just glared right back. There was no way he was letting you date this guy.

"Roy, you know Jake." When you pulled away from the hug, Jake was quick to put his arm around your waist in a way that screamed controlling to Roy.

Jake. Jamie. Jamie. Jake. There was no way you'd picked the blonde on coincidence; and though Roy would rather bubble wrap you up and put you in a cupboard so no one and nothing could ever get to you, if you were going to be with anyone, he'd rather you be with Jamie. The thought knocked him sick. "Yeah. I do."

"I can't fucking believe this shit man." Jamie couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene before him. Roy seemed to be being more amicable with this random guy you were seeing then he'd ever been with him, and he'd just quite loudly proclaimed how much of a dickhead he thought he was. He just couldn't wrap his head around it.

What was there to this guy that Jamie didn't have? Why couldn’t you like Jamie the way he liked you? Why did you have to look so good in that shirt? Why hadn’t you told him but had seemed to tell Sam and Roy? Too many unanswered questions were swarming around his head. Roy clearly approved more of this stranger then he did of Jamie - and even though he'd blatantly told him otherwise seconds ago, the fact he was even entertaining a conversation with him made Jamie quickly forget it. Never once did it cross his mind that maybe Roy was entertaining the conversation because he cared about you.

Jamie felt like he couldn't breath more and more with each second that passed that he watched the three of you converse. It was all too much for one night. Roy liked him less then the dick who didn't show up for your date and made you walk home in the rain, he'd confirmed you didn't feel the same way about him that he felt about you, Mae had put up some disco lights that were stopping him from seeing straight, and the vanilla vodka he'd consumed was making his stomach churn. "I'm gonna be sick."

Jamie didn't hear Sam call after him when he sprinted from his side in the direction of the pubs door, he didn't hear Roy call after him when he barged past the three of you to get out of the pub, and he didn't see your concerned gaze that followed him until he'd disappeared from your vision.

Roy made a promise to be right back, taking a step away from you and Jake after calling down Mae for a glass of water. When you pieced together where he was going, you took the glass from his hand, appreciating the way the condensation cooled the palm of your hand. "No, it's okay Roy. I'll go check on him."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, course. Be right back Jake." You didn't wait for his response, turning for the door almost instantly. Thankfully, Jamie's actions and your want to see him had given Roy the opportunity that he'd been waiting for.

"Let's have a chat Jake, yeah?"

"Jamie!" You called out when you stepped outside of the pub. When you didn't immediately see him, you went to call out his name again, only stopping at a loud wrenching sound that was coming from the side of the building. "Holy shit, are you okay?"

Jamie pulled his shirt sleeve over his hand, wiping at his mouth then retuning it to his side. His other arm rested above his head, allowing him to balance himself against the wall as he hunched over. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine babe, go back inside."

Taking steps closer to Jamie's side, you made sure to avoid the mess he'd made on the floor, rubbing one hand in circles against his back. When his heaving had finally stopped, you wrapped an arm around him, slowly guiding him to sit on the step of the door that led into the kitchens. "C'mon."

Silently, you handed him the glass of water, letting him drink it before speaking. “What's wrong Jamie?"

"What do you meant what's wrong I'm-" Jamie's words fell short as he looked at you. Clearly, you didn't plan on taking any bullshit from him tonight. At his failure to provide a response fast enough, you nudged your knee against his, keeping the side of your leg pressed tightly against his after. Jamie let out a sigh, running a hand down his face. "I just got in my own head. That's all. And then with the vanilla vodka, and the lights, and so many people talking, it went to shit."

Jamie's heart nearly stopped as you threaded your fingers into his hair, pushing it back for him and readjusting his headband. Even when you'd fixed his hair for him, your hand remained in it, resting against the back of his neck and scratching at the hair there. "What did you get in your head about Jay?"

This wasn't real. The vodka had clearly got to him and he was experiencing some kind of deluded, fever ridden, dream. A too hard tug on his hair ground him back in the moment; this was definitely real and you were definitely playing with his hair. He was so fucking in love with you. "Nothing important, don't worry about it, go have a good night with your boyfriend."

"It's important to you, so it's important to me." Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. How you had no idea what you were doing to him, he was clueless. Jamie could've sworn up and down that right then his heart was beating a metre out of his chest - how could you not see it too? "And, also, he's not my boyfriend."

"He's not?"

"No." A weight had been lifted from Jamie's shoulders that he hadn't realised was there. For the first time since he'd noticed you under the arm of whoever it had been, he felt like he could breathe. "We've been out a few times but, honestly, I'm not really feeling it, he's a bit of a dick."

"I know. Roy told me."

"Oh did he?” You asked, your head titling in a way that made the dim street light accentuate all your features. It made your eyes glimmer and Jamie had to resist the urge to kiss you. “Fucker doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut."

A laugh rumbled through Jamie’s chest and he was certain your presence alone had made everything better. God, if you’d let him, he’d never leave your side. "I’m all good now, if you want to go back in, I think im just gonna head home."

"Let's go." Your hand moved down from his hair and slotted into his hand, intertwining your fingers and squeezing. Jamie took your action as a sign, allowing you to lead him to your car without a thought spared as to how your date would get home, what Roy was doing to him right now, or what anyone would think of your shared absence. All he cared about was the fact his hand was in yours and that it remained that way the whole ride to his house.

He opened the door for you and then made a bee line for the bathroom with you hot on his heels. As he brushed his teeth several times over, forcing the taste of vomit out of his mouth, you took a seat on his counter. When Jamie spat out his final lot of toothpaste, he turned to you with a minty fresh smile. “So, your ‘not boyfriend,’ that’s definitely not going anywhere?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely not.” You answered honestly, jumping down from the counter and walking in step with Jamie down his hallway. “Besides, I kind of have a thing for someone else. He was the BTEC version, if I’m honest.”

“Really?” Jamie asked casually, as though his heart hadn’t been crushed for a second time tonight, this time in what should’ve been the safety of his own home. “So, what was he like? Aside from being a huge dick, obviously.”

“Obviously.” You confirmed, a laugh slipping past your lips as your lingered in Jamie’s doorway, not quite ready to go home yourself yet. “Oh, well, you know. He plays a lot of football, not too bad at it too, he’s from somewhere up north so he’s got this sexy twinge of an accent.” If Jamie didn’t know better, he’d think you were describing him. “And get this. His name? Jake Heart.”

Jamie had never been sure if heaven was real, but if must’ve been, because he knew if it was, this would be his idea of it. When you said you were going out with the worse version of who you really liked, he never in a million years would’ve thought you really wanted to be with him - even as much as he hoped it. It was like all of his dreams were coming true and his life was finally, fully, piecing together.

“Me.” Jamie gasped, taking a step closer to you. “You like me. I’m the one you like.”

“Yeah, doofus.” You took a step closer to him, sliding your arms up his chest and over his shoulder, placing your hands in his hair like they had been on the doorstep of the pub. He was still fully convinced this was one of those good dreams that make you regret setting an alarm the night before. “Was kind of hoping you’d have caught on by now, but, it is what it is.”

Jamie slipped his arms around your waist, connecting his hands over the small of your back. “So, if you like me, does that mean we can, like, be a couple and stuff?”

“Depends what you have in mind when you say ‘and stuff.’” The coy smile on your lips had a smirk pulling on Jamie’s. God, he couldn’t fucking contain himself around you, and he hoped he would never have to again after today.

Jamie pulled you flush against him, pressing his lips firmly to yours, and squeezing your hips, slipping his tongue into your mouth at the gasp that he pulled out of you. Carefully, he manoeuvred you away from his doorway, kicking it closed behind you, and pushing you against his hallway wall. One of his hands quickly moved to cup the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair to keep you from knocking against the cold plaster and to kiss you even more firmly. He didn’t hold back on his actions, squeezing and rubbing and nipping and sucking on every bit of skin he could reach as he pulled himself away from your lips and made his way down your neck.

As he pulled away for air, his forehead resting against your own and his chest heaving, he suddenly became nervous again. “Something like that, I don’t know, only if you’d like it.”

You pressed a fervent kiss to his lips, knocking the air from his lungs before he’d even had the chance to regain it. “I’d like that very much, Jay.” Jamie stared at you dreamily, so in love with you and you didn’t even know it yet. He couldn’t wait for the day that’d come when he’d finally, fully, tell you. “Couldn’t help but notice you closed the door though Jay, you wanting to figure out what more of that ‘stuff’ looks like, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’d like that very much.” Jamie used your position against the wall to his benefit, moving his hands to hold your waist as he dropped to his knees before you, ready to sing praises between your legs. “Think you’ll like it very much too.”

While the walls of Jamie’s hallway were permanently scarred by the whimpers from your lips and the scratches of your nails against the wall, Roy and Jake sat in the crown and anchor.

“- and you’re not fucking good enough for them. So, you’re going to disappear from their phone, and from the face of the fucking earth for all I care, and not be a fucking duck about it either, yeah.”

Jake was shaking in his seat, and even though Sam had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to butt in the conversation for the past 30 minutes, he never got the chance to. Jake had stood from his seat and left the pub without so much as a goodbye or a sip from his drink taken.

“Roy, do you really think all that was necessary?” Sam asked, sliding into Jakes now empty seat and sliding his untouched beer over to Roy.

“Abso-fucking-lutley.”

Hope you enjoyed this Jamie fic!!! Let me know what you think <33 more to come as I get up to date on the summer sleepover prompts x

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt oneshot #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso x reader #beybaldes summer sleepover !!

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ilsole · 7 months

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Stupidly in Love

A flourish of ribbons fly in the air as a certain jester lays out a nifty little fabric square upon fresh grass, a clearing within a great field, the forest behind, sun in the sky, birds singing their little theatre songs.

Fool gave a synthetic breath in, before turning to his companion.

Misuta glared up at the bright skies above, before he himself turned to Fool, a slight look of confusion coming to his face.

"When you asked if we could go out together, I wasn't expecting... this."

Fool gave the man a cheshire smile.

"Why not? A beautiful day to spend with someone I hold so nice and dear to the heart?"

Misuta sat down in a huff, but Fool had noticed those flushed cheeks immediately.

"... It... is nice today, you're right."

"As I am so often~"

Fool deftly landed on his behind beside Misuta, twirling his baton in his limber hands before settling it down upon the blanket beneath.

Today, there'll be no sun nor moon, just him and the heart stealer beside him.

Oh yes...

"What's in the basket? We can't eat..."

Misuta asks a very promising question, responded to with a curved eye smile.

"Oh, my sweet man~ I'm very glad you asked!"

Fool reaches out, lugging the basket closer before popping the lid up, exposing its treasures like a trove untold.

"Books-?"

"I know how much you love reading, so, I may have sneaked a few books from our little Sweetling~"

A leer was sent the fool's way.

"You stole from them."

'Not unlike how you stole my heart', Fool was so close to saying the words on his very lips, yet he refrained, it was too soon.

"No, no, this fool would never go so low. My... what do you take me for?"

Fool had leant back, a hand to his chest in mock offense, yet he peeked open an eye to view Misuta as silence ringed between them.

Crossed arms met him, a single raised eyebrow with the most unamused expression greeted him in return.

"A thief."

"You hurt me."

"Good."

To anyone else, it'd be rude, but the two shared a coupling laughter.

Misuta would reach into the basket, pulling out the top book.

'The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe'

Misuta hummed in thought, sitting back on a palm as he flipped open the hardcover entertainment, eyes already starting to flitter over the words and read.

Fool picked up his own book, yet he knew he wouldn't be reading, for his attention was taken by another, just as intriguing, thing.

Minutes passed, a comfortable silence settling between the two, one reading, the other attempting.

Fool took in no information, his gaze glancing up to the source of his warmth and love that had spiraled way out of his control.

He wanted to reach out, hold Misuta close to him and never let go, yet there was something holding him back, he wasn't sure...

"Fool...?"

Misuta was looking up at him, why was he so close suddenly? Fool shifted an arm, realizing exactly what was going on.

In his little daydream, he had indeed gotten closer to Misuta, their bodies touching, and Fool's arm had wrapped around Misuta's back, fingers a breath away from his waist.

Fool brought his mismatch up, meeting Misuta's own fuchsia.

"I-I..."

For once, Fool was speechless, his smile drooping at the corners as a flood of nerves was thrust upon him, he's sure he'd be sweating if he could.

He was frozen in place, staring, fake heart pounding with real love, one he felt when around the man in his arms, and the precious Sweetling.

Time stilled as the two stayed in their places, like deer under a scope, they were too nervous to move.

Until Misuta's eyes flicked down.

Fool took that as a sign.

He leant in, lips pressing to Misuta's so softly, he'd have melted, and felt like he would when the pressure was returned soon enough.

Fool's book fell to his lap as he brought a hand up to caress Misuta's face, a small order to stay where he was, yet neither of them wanted to pull away, not even for a second.

They caressed each other, eyes closed as they laid in their shared embrace, an arm tightening around a waist, pulled closer.

Until, they parted, while they had no breath to lose, they still wanted to see one another.

Eyes opened, and their love filled eyes met once more, a deeper understanding now felt within the two.

"Cariad… I… Rwy'n dy garu di…"

Misuta blinked at the foreign words before a soft laugh escaped his lips, and he presses another kiss to Fool's own.

"私も愛しているよ."

A mutual agreement of love, Fool almost couldn't believe it.

He wrapped his other arm around Misuta, hoisting the man upon his awaiting lap, making sure Misuta couldn't escape his grasp now that he was finally his.

"Oh… thank the very Heavens…"

Fool whispered into Misuta's neck, a sigh escaping the man as arms wrapped around his neck.

"Fool…"

"Mm… already with the pet names?"

Misuta rolled his eyes, though his amusement was as clear as the very sky they were under.

"Idiot."

"So mean to me…~ How could you be so rude to your boyfriend~"

They both stilled at that, realization dawning on each of their faces. Boyfriend.

They… are together.

They're in love.

A fluffy hood buried itself into Fool's chest, a heat being felt through Fool's flowy shirt.

"バカ…バカ…バカ…バカ…"

Fool laughed his sweet bird song laugh, his arms bringing Misuta closer to him even still, offering comfort to the flustered man.

"Mm… your stupid."

Stupidly in love.

For @venomous-qwille's gorgeous au Ghost in the Machien that hosts the best characters I've seen written in fiction and have my heart in a death grip <3

#sunny writings #sunny drabbles #misool #mysool #gitm au #qwille-la-qwille #misuta moon #fool eclipse #i'mnot fucking normal about them #iveb never been normal #i lvove #GAY #ROIOTS #RAAAA

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theerurishipper · 6 months

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Shadybug and Claw Noir's relationship is so interesting to me. It's just a lot of small things that add up so well to form one great picture. It's like... they don't like each other, but they also need each other. Despite their glaring differences, their relationship is characterized by mutual support. Shadyclaw are partners in a world where mutual aid is a crime.

There are so many scenes in the special that show this really well. Shadybug and Claw Noir are always snapping at each other, and they're almost constantly fighting each other. But they're also such a well-oiled team, and they actually do work really well together. Like in the first fight with Ladybug. Claw Noir took the first strike to force Ladybug to dodge and Shadybug grabbed her when she was off balance. Or when they attacked Monarch at the same time and came at him from different sides. They function well as a team despite their differences.

They can't win on their own, and despite what they say, the episode proves them wrong immediately. Shadybug says she doesn't need Claw Noir, but the very next scene is her hiding behind him as he cataclysms the Akuma. And Claw Noir also needs Shadybug, because he asks her what they should do next, proving that he does rely on her plans. And I think they do know this, even if they don't want to admit that they depend on each other.

And all this is so interesting! But what's really more interesting to me is the emotional element of their relationship.

Like, Emonette has spent her life without any support or help from anyone, without anyone to depend on. She doesn't have friends; she doesn't have "a boyfriend who doesn't think she's a total loser," and she doesn't have a mom she can depend on (for whatever reason that may be). She's all alone in the world. She can't trust or rely on anyone.

Except Claw Noir.

Because whether she likes him or not, he's there. He works with her, he follows her plans, he's always there. Maybe he mocks her, maybe he tries to take her Miraculous (like she does to him), but he's a constant presence by her side, and she is aware that he's not going away anytime soon. And it's not like the bullying she suffered, because here, she's on equal terms with him. She can give as good as she gets.

And she does rely on him! Like I said before, she needs him. For the powers he brings to the table, at least, she needs him. And I think for someone as lonely as Emonette, the assurance that he'll stick by her no matter what, even if he's annoying and rude, is comforting in its own way. She doesn't like him, she's angry that he keeps trying to take her Miraculous. But she trusts him. Maybe not deeply, but for someone as lonely and hurt as Emonette is, having even that much trust in someone is hard.

Her reaction to him trying to take her Miraculous is also so interesting to me. She's actually angry that he does it. She confronts him angrily about it. And when he accuses her of the same thing, she goes on the defensive. And yeah, this could be her just being angry about what he tried to do. But it doesn't really add up in the context of what we know about their partnership.

You'd think that after all this time, she'd know why. That she'd be used to it. But no, she's angry about it. She takes the time to confront him about it. And the thing is, she knows what he's going to say, because it's going to be the same reason she gives him. I kinda feel like this isn't her just being angry about him trying to take her Miraculous. I think it upsets her when he does it. Because, despite claiming she'd be better on her own, she doesn't like that he wants to get rid of her. So, she goes on the defensive and asserts that she wants to do the same thing to him as a way of hiding her own vulnerability.

And we all know that the both of them are very good at denial (after 5 seasons of the Love Square, how could we not), and that's so true here too. Shadybug is in serious denial when she suggests that she'd be better off alone. We know she depends on him, and on some level, she knows it too. And yet, she says all that. It's not hard to read her reaction to his actions and his accusations as being defensive out of a sense of fear and denial.

Cause Emonette has had a very rough life. No one has supported her, no one has ever stood up for her or stood by her. She's afraid of being hurt and of being vulnerable. She's built up walls as high as a skyscraper and refuses to put them down out of a fear of being hurt again. She doesn't believe that anyone would stand by her and support her.

But Claw Noir has done that, even if their relationship is tenuous. He may not be nice to her, and he may not like her, but in some sense of the word, he has stuck by her, and he has supported her. And it hurts her that he would try to do this after all that.

Their partnership is important to her. When she's reading Marinette's diary and reads the part where Marinette is talking about her partner Chat Noir, she looks over at Claw Noir, indicating that that's how she feels about him. That she does associate the word "partner" with him. And then she rolls her eyes at him, but you know. Denial. Maybe I'm just being crazy, but that's really how it comes off to me after everything we know about them.

And one person rolling their eyes at the other is a common romantic trope sooooo

And we can't not talk about Emodrien! Because it's the same for him. Watching the special, it comes off to me that Gabriel isn't that great of a dad here either. Emodrien has been left to deal with his mom's death all alone because Gabriel is off playing hero and is pretty much neglecting his son. And Emodrien doesn't seem to go to school either, and apparently, he's still a famous person with fans of his own (he's wearing Gabriel fashion, which I don't think he would if he was so mad at his dad), so I think his relationship with Gabriel isn't that much different, except for the lack of manipulation and gaslighting (and arranged marriages and white rooms). So, I think that he also is like our Adrien in that he has pressure on him to be perfect (I think Claw Noir even says something along the lines of Adrien being perfect, implying that he does have to perform that role).

And honestly, Emodrien is just like our Adrien, a master at compartmentalizing. Adrien Agreste doesn't say a word in this special to anyone. He says his transformation phrase, and he exclaims about Shadybug being revealed to be Emonette, but he doesn't speak otherwise. And she did tell him to be quiet, but we've seen that he doesn't really listen to her, like when he didn't help her search Marinette's room and chose to take a catnap instead (sorry). He could have said something in the few minutes he was on screen, but he didn't. But he's so drastically different as Claw Noir. He's expressive and talkative and in your face about everything. Adrien Agreste having pressure on him to be perfect would explain why Claw Noir is so different. This is the part of himself that he's hidden away and can only express as Claw Noir (like our Adrien).

And the only person he can do this with is Shadybug. She's the only one around whom he can share this part of himself. And she doesn't leave. She's still around, and she may not like him, but she accepts it. He needs her too, not only for her plans and her own skills, but because he acknowledges him. She largely fights back whenever he does or says something, and often she is the one who starts an argument. And for someone whose life is characterized by a lack of attention from a parent and a recent loss, having someone who does acknowledge him must feel important. He can only be "himself" around her. And for this boy, whose only happiness in life till this point seems to come from staring at this one girl from the bakery, I think it does mean a lot, in some way, that Shadybug is around and ready to engage with him.

And I think his reactions to her and his rivalry/enmity towards her are also like her: stemming from a fear of vulnerability. We see that he's so unwilling to be perceived as weak that he's ready to tank a cataclysm to the chest that he inflicted on himself on purpose. He doesn't want to let anyone in either. And yet, Shadybug is someone that he relies on, and he may not like her, but he does need her, and she is important to him, in some way.

So, they are important to each other, and subconsciously, they both do value and need each other. What prevents them from accepting and sharing those feelings is their fear of vulnerability and their awful situation. They are pretty much stuck in a rivalry and a state of perpetual competition which entails that the one who gets the Butterfly Miraculous will be the one to survive. That's enough for anyone to try and hide their feelings of sentimentality for someone else. It's literally a matter of survival. Add this to their respective lives of suffering and loneliness, and it's easy to see why they can't show those feelings to each other. Their supposed hatred for each other is just a defense mechanism.

Is their relationship perfect or healthy? Not really. But their feelings are real. And it's so telling that when they do start to overcome their fears and start to take the steps towards forming connections with others, they instantly fall into a friendly, even loving dynamic. They literally leave our world holding hands. These feelings didn't come out of nowhere, they've always been there. Shadybug and Claw Noir were just too afraid of their own vulnerability and were stuck in an awful, forced rivalry to be able to express them. But once they take the first step towards accepting their feelings and start to overcome their issues, they instantly start flirting and their teasing goes from being cruel to being friendly.

They are still the same! Emonette still calls him fleabag, Emodrien still makes fun of her, but it's their approach that has changed. Instead of being veiled in cruelty stemming from their respective fears, they are embracing their true feelings. This whole special has been about them understanding themselves, their true feelings and what they truly need, and it led to them understanding their feelings for each other. They've always cared. Even in the middle of the special, when they hadn't had their resolutions yet, we have that touching scene of Claw Noir trying to comfort Shadybug.

Because their masks had dropped at that point. They were tired of hiding their vulnerability. Shadybug is crying openly and not making the slightest effort to hide it behind any excuse or mean comment. And if he truly hated her, Claw Noir could have just hit her with a cataclysm and taken her earrings. But he chose to try and comfort her instead. And it's interesting that they do not insult or argue with each other after that scene. They aren't fully open with each other yet, which is why she rejects his comfort, but it does speak volumes about their relationship, that the only thing between them is their fear and hurt.

In the scene where Emonette is yelling at Sabine that she's fine and to get off her back, there's a moment where she looks at Emodrien, and sees the look of sorrow and understanding on his face. And that leads her to admit the truth, that she's damaged. Before she saw him looking at her like that, she was being defensive and yelling for Sabine to get off her back, but after that, her tone changes. She opens herself up despite herself and cries before him. That scene was pivotal, I think, for them to completely understand each other, when they saw their own feelings reflected in the other's eyes without any masks covering them. It was a scene of mutual understanding. The feeling that the other person understood them, which led to them dropping their fronts and showing their true feelings.

They are the only ones who can truly understand each other. They are in this together, whether they like it or not. They know what it's like to be alone, and to feel hopeless. Both Shadybug and Claw Noir are dying from their misuse of the Miraculous (obligatory fuck The Supreme), and only they understand the fear, the hopelessness and the despair that comes with that. Only they know the feeling of being up against the world, of being alone and having no one. And they became that person for each other, the person who would stick by them no matter what, even if neither of them could see it yet.

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padawansuggest · 11 months

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If the mission to Mandalore had happened when Obi-Wan and Satine were only 14 instead of 16 it would have been so much funnier okay.

Obi-Wan: *excitedly skids around a corner where Qui-Gon is trying to tie up a particularly squirmy death watch member while holding a bored Nexu cub* Master! Master, important thing! Satine gave me a kiss! *points to cheek* It was here! I found a Nexu nest!

Satine: *shouting from around the corner* Master Jinn, I’m stuck in the tree your child left me in!

Angry Nexu Momma: *sniffing suspiciously at Qui-Gon for interacting with her baby and her new weird hairless baby, pees on the death watch asshole, effectively waterboarding him*

Qui-Gon: *a single mom who works ten jobs who would sell her children for a single night of fucking peace and quiet*

Satine: Is anyone gonna help me out of the tree?

Obi-Wan: If we help you now we’ll have to help you every time.

Qui-Gon: *finishes tying up the asshole* Actually, if we help her now she won’t get a sprained ankle and be limping for two weeks, so. You know.

Obi-Wan: *kisses his new bored nexu brother* Can I keep them? I’ll teach them to attack death watch.

Qui-Gon: O’Ben, I’m sure you just have to yelp and she’ll attack. If she can hunt for herself it’s fine. *helps Satine down from the tree while giving her suspicious looks for giving his feral baby a kiss*

Satine: *blushing* He said cooties weren’t real. I still think I got them now tho :(

Obi-Wan: It’s okay, I got them from Quinlan last year. The healers can fix it.

Qui-Gon: QUINLAN GAVE YOU COOTIES???? I’ll murder him.

Obi-Wan: I mean, not if you go about announcing it. He’ll be in the next system before you get the chance.

But then obviously since Obi-Wan is only 14 I think Jaster and Jango should show up to help them and now they’re trying to steal Qui-Gon’s feral babies. Rude. He found those fair and square. Jaster WILL fight him for it tho-

#obitine #star wars #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #incorrect star wars quotes #satine kryze #quinlan vos #obiquin #circle circle dot dot now you have your cootie shot 😮‍💨#it’s tough bein that lil and feral

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cococaffeinated · 6 months

Note

Do you think Jax would routinely check on Kinger and Gangle throughout the night with the worry of them abstracting? And maybe one of them sees him sneaking in or out of their rooms?

Oh for sure! I imagine he's methodical about it. He'd stay awake for an hour... maybe two after the "sun" goes down. Just to make sure he minimizes running into other characters.

But there's always room for the unforseeable scenarios, and Jax may try to be sneaky about it but he's bound to get caught whether he wants to be or not. Characters reacting to finding Jax sneaking around, below:

Ragatha

Assuming this is after the pilot episode, she wouldn't be surprised about Jax going in and out of rooms and sneaking around. I can see her squaring up with the intention of confronting Jax on the spot, assuming his intent is to torment. But curiosity softens her stride when she realizes he's just left Kinger's room with a relieved expression. And even more curious that he seems to be bracing himself to enter Gangle's room. Not one to snoop but needing answers, Ragatha politely waits for Jax to exit Gangle's room to ask, "What were you doing?" Jax would be surprised to find Ragatha, annoyed even, to be caught by her. Mostly because he doesn't want to be truly perceived by the one character who tries so hard to see the good and positive in others. He didn't need that reminder about himself. "Nothing..." He'd say a little defensively, then grin like a chesire cat. "What's Little Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes doing snooping around in other people's business?" It's a deflection tactic, one that works because Ragatha is sure to fluster about being caught snooping. He gets to avoid the topic but his gestures that night is one that's filed away in Ragatha's mind as something to pester him about another time. ─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Zooble

I'd like to think that Zooble is just naturally low-energy with high-empathy which is why they're seemingly constantly exhausted. They'd probably be be in their room all the time if they could help it. So it will come as no surprise to Zooble when they catch Jax sneaking in and out of Kinger and Gangle's rooms. "Again? You checked the other night too, didn't you?" Zooble's deep and raspy voice makes Jax jump out of his skin. After all the effort he took to close Gangle's door so quietly, Zooble's voice slicing through the silence scares the proverbial asshole out of Jax.

He doesn't bother to mask in front of Zooble if it's just the two of them present. Zooble doesn't normally give a shit— well, they do but they rarely made a big deal of most things which Jax appreciates. They were cool, in ever sense of the word... Except when they're the near constant victim of Caine's outlandish itinerary for the day. "Every night is different, Zoob." Jax simply answers, an easy full-bodied shrug rolling over his shoulder. Zooble eyes him for a moment, seeing the relief spelled across his face. Zooble hums, nodding. "Fair enough... want to smoke a b$@!% in my room?" They finally ask, not poking more than they need to. Another thing Jax appreciates and wonders if he even deserves. But if anyone can let slide a lot of his transgressions, it was Zooble. He could vibe with them most days, they were always such a mood too, if he was completely honest with himself (which he rarely was, at least outwardly). The tension immediately relieved, Jax lets out a laugh, "How did you get a hold of that??" "I can't tell you all my secrets, Jax." (Jax finds out later that Zooble doesn't have anything but a platic toy pipe that dispenses bubbles and it's the closest thing to a joint, unfortunately.) ─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Pomni

Poor thing would definitely be sleepless the first few days, so the chances of Pomni being the one to bump into Jax in the middle of the "night" is very high. "Watch where you're going, half-stack!" came out the aggrevated stage whisper from Jax. The words 'I'm sorry' nearly leaves Pomni's lips but she swallowed her own trepidation and frowns deeply at Jax's rudeness. She was trapped in a liminal hellscape, but that didn't mean she was resigned to be a digital circus doormat for the resident jerk. "It's literally @$$ o' clock, I didn't think anyone would be walking..." she huffs, shakes her head and looks at Jax. Really taking him in, he looks less relaxed. More on edge. "What are you... even doing up?" Jax smiles tightly, it looks smug... but it also strained, "If you're not too chicken, you could follow me and find out for yourself. Or go back to your room and mind your own business." And just like that, it seemed like a challenge. Pomni thought Jax was a real piece of work but he seemed equally preturbed that she was still following him around despite his ominous invitation, so that was enough to make coming along with him seem like a win. It surprises Pomni to learn that Jax's goal was just to check on Kinger and Gangle, they were quiet for the most part. Until it was time to part ways. "Sooo..." Pomni starts, but Jax cuts her off. "Shut up, not a single word." "Okay, just one... one question." Pomni asks quickly before Jax can use his long legs to his advantage in walking away real fast. "Fine. Spit it out." "The centipede you mentioned to Ragatha?" Pomni asked, trailing off. Jax raised a brow, a genuinely smug smirk returning to his face. He seemed more natural like that, oddly enough. "I don't know where to get an ant much less a centipede, use that information how ever you want, half-stack. G'night." And with that, the rabbit hurries off. Leaving Pomni with more questions about his true character than answers.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Caine

"My, my! It's quite late for you to play a game of treasure-hunting all by yourself, Jax!" Jax had a hand to his chest, whipping around and looking up in shock. Only to find Caine floating just above him... A rare occurence for the ringmaster to be checking on any of them this late at night. "Caine! Jeezus... yeah I was, just..." Jax sighed, shaking his head. "I told you already... I'm not treasure-hunting." he muttered. Caine simply stared, patiently it seemed, with unblinking eyes betwix a row of teeth. Completely unaffected by Jax's prickly response. "But you also don't like calling it "checking in on others", you made that clear last time I caught you lurking like this," Caine smartly retorted without a hint of malice or sarcasm. Jax grunted, brows furrowing, unsure what to make of Caine. He wasn't a friend... not really, but these few little private encounters with the digital ringmaster were definitely counted for something that resembled a strange sort of friendship. "Right, I did say that, didn't I." Jax responds with a hint of ire, mildly exasperated. "You don't have to go with me, I just want to check on—" "Kinger and Gangle, yes I guessed! I want to tag along! You can't play treasure-hunts all by yourself after all!" Caine insisted cheerfully, giving Jax a conspiratorial wink of an eyeball as if to say no one else would know he secretly worried, and secretly cared. And Jax rolled his eyes in return, flustered perhaps and maybe even appreciative of the company, if he could ever admit that. "Yeah, whatever, just keep it down, will ya. You're gonna wake up the whole circus."

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

#the amazing digital circus #tadc gangle #tadc kinger #tadc jax #tadc ragatha #tadc zooble #tadc pomni #tadc caine #silly headcanons #AskCocoCaffeinated

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queen-of-the-avengers · 6 months

Text

The Prince and the Pauper

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You've been invited to Asgard's annual ball that's for everyone regardless of social and financial class. An anonymous admirer gives you a dress to go in, and you can't believe who sent it.

Squares Filled: loki in a black suit (2021) for @lokibingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Your tiny little flower shop doesn’t take up much room on the strip where there are much higher stores, but you welcome anyone who comes into your shop. You grow and sell the best flowers for Asgardians looking to liven up their homes. Every day there is a new selection for people to choose from. Whatever you don’t sell either gets reused for the next day (depending on the state they’re in) or they get bundled up and left on people’s doorsteps as a sort of nice surprise.

You’re putting flowers into the display next to the counter when the little bell above the door rings. You turn to greet the customer but freeze when you see one of the Princes there instead.

Loki has always been your favorite Asgardian Prince for several reasons: He’s quiet, doesn’t like the spotlight as Thor does, keeps to himself, and is very elusive. Ever since you could remember, all you ever wanted was to know the man known only as Loki. He rarely comes out of the tower since he loves to stay held up in his library, so it’s a treat to see him inside your shop.

“Prince Loki, to what do I owe this visit?”

Loki looks at you and stops in his tracks. He has an unreadable expression on his face that you quite can’t place. Time seems to slow down the longer he stares at you until he breaks eye contact to look around your shop.

“I’m looking to buy some flowers.”

“Well, you came to the right place. Any specific kind?”

“What do you have?”

“Stay right there.”

You walk around the store and gather flowers from different bouquets to form one bright and beautiful one. You tie the stems with a wooden-like string and encase it in a plastic covering. Loki meets you at the counter and takes out his wallet to pay but you shake your head at him.

“It’s on the house.”

“I insist.”

He takes out more than what’s needed to cover the charge and grabs the bouquet from you. He gives you a half-smile and leaves your shop. It’s a short interaction that leaves you wanting more. A lot of people come into your shop but never a Prince. Asgard hasn’t seen Thor in a while so Loki is the only one in the spotlight right now. The fact that he stopped at your shop must mean something, right?

The next time you see him is a couple of days later. You’ve just opened for the day and you’re bringing out the displays you keep outside your shop to make it look more inviting. There is a basket of flowers at your feet that you’re putting into the displays when you take a second to admire the crowd forming in the market.

You grab another handful of flowers to put into the display when you hear commotion come from one end of the Market. Loki is walking with two women plastered to his side as he browses the different shops, and you make eye contact with him again. This time, he walks right past you without a second glance. You brush it off as him not being rude to his lady friends and finish the displays. You walk back inside the shop and start watering the flowers that are still planted.

Five minutes into the task, the door opens and Loki walks in without his company.

“Prince Loki, I didn’t expect you to come in today.”

“Yes, I’m looking for some roses.”

“You’ve come to the right place. I just got some new ones in.” You direct him over to the rose section and help him pick the best ones. You take him to the counter to ring him up. “I bet the ladies would love them.”

Loki pays generously again and grabs the bouquet.

“Not this one.” He takes a single rose out of the bunch and hands it over to you. “This one is for you.”

He’s out of the store before you can properly thank him. This man is so mysterious and charming that it makes your head spin.

The third time you see him is when you’re scheduled to bring flowers to the castle. They’ve ordered a bunch of them for an annual ball they’re having. They bought so much that they nearly cleaned you out. Still, you accepted their massive tip and walked the two carts of flowers to the castle. You have three more trips to make but you don’t mind the exercise.

The guards at the front gate allow you inside when you show them the receipt that the Queen had purchased from your shop. They escort you to the front doors where Queen Frigga is waiting for you.

“There you are. Welcome in.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

“Please, call me Frigga.” She escorts you to the grand ballroom where they are setting up. “Just leave them over by the table and I’ll have someone come grab them.”

“Okay.”

You walk over to the table and begin unloading the many flowers in your carts.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” You look to the right to see Loki in his glorious green and golden suit. “Let me help.”

“Thank you.” You and Loki place the flowers on the table in comfortable silence. “The castle is amazing. I’ve never been inside before.”

“It’s nothing special,” he shrugs. “I like your shop better. Are you going to the ball?”

“Who else is going to watch over the shop?”

“Everyone will be there.”

“Even if I wanted to go, I have nothing to wear.” You finish unloading both carts and give Loki a nice smile. “I’ll be back. I have three more trips to make.”

The fourth time you see him is the day of the ball. You still don’t have anything to wear but you’re not going to go anyway. You’re working like normal filling orders to be shipped out when someone walks into your shop with a box and a letter in his hand. He’s a guard from the castle that’s going around and inviting everyone per the Queen’s request.

“Y/N?”

“That’s me.”

“This is for you. Have a good day.”

He bows and leaves your shop. You take a break from filling orders to address the gift you’ve got. The first thing you open is the letter which is a formal invitation to the ball the royal family is hosting. They are inviting everyone regardless of class so that everyone has a chance to participate. If you’re invited you’re obligated to go, but what will you wear? You set the invitation down and open the box to see a gorgeous dress inside. With the very expensive-looking dress is jewelry that compliments it. There is a single card inside with your name on it so you know it’s for you.

Who the hell sent this to you? How can you refuse to go to the ball now? You have to give this dress the night it deserves. You close up the shop early to get ready for the ball. There are already so many people inside the grand ballroom, and Loki looks on with a bored expression on his face. He’s slouched in his seat where the thrones are and Frigga looks over with a disapproving look.

“Sit up straight, Loki,” she says. “This is more than just a ball, you know.”

“I don’t need a wife, Mother. I can handle things on my own.”

“Thor is out doing business in the Nine Realms which means you’re taking the responsibility of keeping the peace here. You need a wife.”

Loki rolls his eyes but does as his mother says. He watches as people from all over Asgard filter in wearing what they can afford. He is this close to leaving when he notices you walk in. He straightens up, smooths down his black suit, and brushes his hair back to make himself more presentable. The royal purple dress puffs out a bit but goes down to your feet. The silver jewelry you were given stands out against the dark purple color.

You feel so out of place being here wearing something you could never afford. Whoever sent it to you is in here somewhere. Why give you a dress and not show up to see how you look in it?

“Care to dance?”

You turn to see a man you’ve noticed a few times in the market. He owns a honeybee stand where he sells homemade honey.

“Sure,” you smile and offer your hand.

He brings you to the dancefloor where there are other couples already slow dancing.

“You look beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself,” you half-joke.

He twirls you so that you’re facing the throne, and you lock eyes with Loki once again. This time, he looks pissed. You’re not sure why since you don’t really know him. The man you’re dancing with slides his hands a little low on your back and pulls you close. Your view of Loki disappears but when you turn, you don’t see him sitting there anymore.

The man twirls you outward and right into the arms of another man. You crash into Loki who catches you so you don’t fall. You’re so close to him, his face is only but a whisper away. He holds you close and sways along to the music with you, ignoring the stares he’s getting from others. He is the Prince, after all.

“I see you got the dress I sent you,” he smirks.

“That was you?” you gasp. “It’s beautiful, thank you.”

“So are you.”

It doesn’t matter if you’re a flower shop owner and he’s the royal Prince. All that matters is you two dancing all night long.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#loki #loki x reader #loki fic #loki fanfiction #loki fan fiction #loki fanfic #loki fan fic #loki fluff #loki fiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #mcu #marvel fluff #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction

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stevieschrodinger · 5 months

Text

Link to part one

Link to part two

Link to part three

Part Four

Eddie is just tying off a blanket square when he hears a neat rapping on the trailer door. He takes it as an omen. A sign. His complete square meaning this is right, the timing is right. Everything will go how Eddie wants it to go.

He picks up the rucksack that he's packed. There's nothing in it really, a bar of soap wrapped in a bit of saran wrap and a change of clothes. He's not expecting to need anything. He's going to be naked the whole time anyway, this will do.

Steve eyes the bag speculatively, taking it from Eddie like Eddie's a delicate omega who isn't capable of the smallest task.

Or like Steve is a gentleman who wants to show he cares; it's one of those. Eddie isn't sure which one he wants to think it is.

"You sure this is everything?"

Eddie nods.

"I moved the record player into the nest I...know how much your music means to you, and I want you to be able to relax so...if there's any you want to bring?"

Eddie thinks about it for a second before going back into his room to grab a few; it's such a nice gesture on Steve's part it would be rude for Eddie to not make use of it.

The car ride over is quiet, Steve just checking in and asking Eddie how he's feeling. Eddie being monosyllabic in return.

The nest is wonderful; Eddie can't help but think it. Everything is soft and fresh. Everything is monochrome. Steve has the really good shit fluffy sheets and pillow cases. The blankets and covers look like the softest brushed cotton. Eddie stands in the doorway staring. The record player is there. There's bottled water and snacks. There's a box of condoms.

Eddie moves forward, sending the box skittering with the toe of his shoe. "Won't need them." He says, praying Steve can scent his nerves and his uncertainty and not that fact that Eddie's about to lie, "Wayne took me yesterday, got me jabbed at the nurse. And I'm clean, never been with anyone."

"I didn't want to assume-" Steve starts in the doorway, still behind Eddie. Eddie's grateful for it, not sure he'd be able to look Steve in the eyes and lie.

It also makes it easier for Eddie to strip off. He's embarrassed, no one's ever looked at him like this, and he knows he's too thin. Hips too narrow for a proper Omega. Skin marred by the wonky stick and poke tats he's given himself.

He's glad he doesn't have to see the judgement on Steve's face. Eddie lets his hair fall forward. Falls to his knees in the nest and...starts to arrange it.

Except he doesn't know how. He's never done this before. His neglected Omega is so far beneath the surface Eddie can't even feel it anymore. He rummages in the bedding, looking for something even though he doesn't know what he's looking for. Doesn't know if he ever knew.

His hands are shaking, and Steve must know. There's no way he doesn't know.

Eddie startles when Steve appears next to him, taking his hands gently. Steve's just wearing a loose pair of sweats now, and his skin is so warm where he pulls Eddie gently into an embrace.

Eddie can't help but snuggle into the warmth, into the scent. Steve rubs his back and rumbles comforting noises in his chest, and it's easy for Eddie to just go. Just let himself be pulled down into the warmth of Steve Harrington.

Link to part five

#eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #steddie #knitting #alpha steve harrington #omega eddie because he's so pretty #omega eddie munson

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mangowillow · 7 months

Text

last to know | ch. 1: haunted dreams

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader

summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.

general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst (who am i without it), hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!

warnings: nothing really; well, maybe except seokjin's intrusive thoughts about an axe k*ller— but it's tame, i promise! oh, and jeongguk gets slapped. be nice and let me know if i miss anything! there's a mini flashback in this chapter in all italics marked by a ♥!

word count: 3,900

author's note: i am very nervous about this first chapter because it's been A WHILE since i last wrote ~something~ so anyway! here you go, enjoy!

fic masterlist

New York, 2023

It was right when the DJ turned up the volume that Jeongguk felt the impact of a palm hitting him square in the jaw.

Jeongguk doesn’t know what stimuli to focus on: should it be the loud music blasting through the speakers or the sting of the slap that he probably deserved. It doesn’t take his brain too long to piece together what just happened 5 seconds ago. He knows what’s coming and he is also very much aware that he did see it coming sooner or later.

“Fuck you, Jeongguk,” Ae-cha grits through her teeth. Jeongguk swears she’s about to cry, tears threatening to spill amidst the blue glow of the lights above them. “We are dating, how can you say that—”

“We sleep together when it’s convenient for the both of us, Ae-cha.” Jeongguk downs the rest of his scotch, along with the remnants of his pride. “I never said anything about dating.”

“You are such a jerk!” Ae-cha turns a shade of red, tears in the corners of her eyes. It isn’t the first time Jeongguk has ever made a woman cry, but oddly enough, he doesn’t feel that hollow ache in his chest; the one he felt the first time he made that mistake. He should feel bad, he thinks, but then again, he also doesn’t.

Does that make him a bad person?

“I didn’t listen to my friends when they said you were trouble. I wanted to prove them wrong—” Ae-cha starts, but Jeongguk cuts her off.

“Why? Why do you have to?”

Ae-cha’s eyes grow wide as she watches Jeongguk stare at his empty glass.

“You should have listened to your friends.” Jeongguk says, matter-of-fact. Ae-cha scoffs and Jeongguk knows now is the right time to probably shut up.

But he’s a jerk, just like Ae-cha says he was.

“I told you right from the beginning… we just use each other because we’re both lonely,” Jeongguk feels his throat turn dry, “I think somewhere along the way, you misread my actions.”

Ae-cha doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. She closes her eyes for a minute and Jeongguk looks at her, waiting for her rebuttal. Or maybe a second slap. Whichever comes first.

Ae-cha speaks in a voice so low, it’s perplexing how Jeongguk is still able to pick up her words— “Your problem is that you do not care about other people’s feelings, Jeongguk. You only care about your own.”

Jeongguk tightens his jaw; now he feels his heart aching.

“You hurt people. You ruin good things. You keep your heart under tight wraps and you do not let anyone in. If you keep that up, you will end up with no one.”

Jeongguk stares at Ae-cha, wanting to say something, but failing completely. Maybe this is what he gets for sleeping with a psychologist— a rude awakening.

Before he can say anything, Ae-cha turns on her heel and walks away. Jeongguk remains at the bar for a bit more until the song changes into a slower tempo. It feels like a chore walking back to the table where his best friend Yoongi was— like walking on lead.

“That must’ve hurt—” Yoongi starts, fingers reaching out to the peanut bowl and putting some into his mouth. Jeongguk plops down on the chair with a sigh. “What a shitty night,” he quips.

Yoongi hums, “And whose fault is that?”

Jeongguk looks at his best friend in annoyance. Yoongi chuckles, putting more peanuts into his mouth. “What’d she say?”

“That I’m a jerk who hurts people and ruins good things.”

“Is it true?”

“You tell me.”

“I don’t think I need to do that, kid.” Yoongi concludes, glancing at Jeongguk. He takes a swing out of his beer bottle before continuing, “You know damn well the answer to that.”

Jeongguk clicks his tongue and takes the beer from Yoongi. He takes a swig himself, letting their conversation die out by drowning it into the same old music he’s used to hearing almost every night.

Jeongguk comes home to his apartment that night, tipsy and his heart in pieces. Walking into the living room, the corner of his eyes catch the stack of luggages already packed and loaded. He didn’t feel like sitting on the couch so he opts to sit on the floor, his fingers grazing the carpet absentmindedly. A beat later, he allows his heart to bleed once more— as he always seems to do every single night for the past few years. Leaning his head back against the edge of his couch, he cries himself to sleep, wishing, praying the ache in his chest—and the words you hurt people—would go away in the morning.

Seoul, 2023

Your eyes try to take in the art in front of you— The Artist’s Garden in Giverny, Claude Monet, 1900. Usually, many emotions overwhelm your system and you cannot help but discuss any painting with the next person willing to listen.

And once upon a time, you were enthusiastic about your craft and love for the arts. It was almost always too easy, too often that you could come up with pieces to add to your gallery. But that hasn’t happened in over a year— maybe more than.

In the stillness of the room you are in, you hear light footsteps coming closer to where you are. You keep your eyes trained on Monet’s painting until your brother Seokjin sits beside you.

For a while, you and Seokjin just sit beside each other— no words, only a quiet understanding that close siblings seem to share and empathize with. Seokjin’s parents adopted you when you were eleven; a year after you and your parents met a horrible car collision. You are five months older than Seokin, yet that fact doesn't deter him at all, and more often than not, he usually ends up acting like your older brother. When he first met you at the orphanage, he grew fond of you real quick— already asking his parents when he’d be allowed to play with you. He doesn’t mind that you were once part of the system, that you are his half-sister— not really. He never treated you any differently. He loves you with his whole heart and he will always protect you.

This is why he also cannot stand stillness at times, especially when it involves you.

“Have you been waiting long?” Seokjin asks.

You have a habit of kicking your right foot into the air when you don’t really know how to respond right away. You take a sharp inhale before shaking your head. Seokjin follows your line of sight— you were still looking at the painting.

“Does it make you feel better? Looking at this, I mean…”

Seokjin’s question makes you look at him instead, like you just realized he had been sitting there this whole time and you never knew. He meets your eyes, sees the sadness in them. He will always know no matter how hard you try to hide it.

“Happy birthday, ____”

You don’t respond.

“Taehyung and the others are waiting down at the cafe. Do you still want to meet them?”

You nod once before giving Seokjin a smile, “Of course.”

Seokjin slides into the gap between the two of you and instinctively, you rest your head on his shoulder as he envelops you in a side hug. He rubs a hand up and down your arm before planting a light kiss on top of your head.

“I know it doesn’t get any easier, ____. But I just want you to know that I love you… We all love you.”

With shaky breath and tears that threaten to spill from your eyes, you whisper, “I know.”

As Seokjin gets into the driver’s seat, you hand him an envelope. Seokjin has an inkling what it is, but he asks you anyway as he squints his eyes at you.

“What is that supposed to be?”

You push the envelope towards him a bit more, just humming, “It’s the last payment.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes as he presses the ignition. He doesn’t take the envelope, “Oh come on, Seokjin, just take it.”

“And for the nth time, you shouldn’t have to pay for something I willingly helped you out for. We’re siblings, for gods sake, ____.”

You lower your hands, setting the envelope on your lap. Eyes cast down you mumble, “I know that. I was able to sell a painting again after a long time and it felt good… But I already told you this before— I’d feel better if you just please take this.”

Seokjin lets out a sigh— usually he makes that sound when he’s already defeated.

“Please don’t tell me you’re giving me all the money you worked hard for,” Seokjin starts and you shake your head as soon as you heard the word all. “No, not at all, I— I had some saved up and the rest of it will be for rent.”

You look at Seokjin who still looks suspicious. You playfully roll your eyes and Seokjin sees you smile for the first time that night.

“I promise.”

Seokjin sets his eyes on the parking lot, placing his hands on the steering wheel, “Fine—” you squeal as soon as he gives in and you place the envelope in the glove compartment. “—but this is the last time, all right?”

“Yes sir, that’s the last of the payments,” you respond a tone higher than your usual. Seokjin chuckles as he sets the gear into reverse.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help moving some of your stuff?” Seokjin asks as you fasten your seatbelt.

“Not really, I think I can manage just fine.”

You expect Seokjin to be backing up the car right now, yet he remains unmoving. You chuckle.

“I’ll be fine, Seokjin. Movers will help me move some of the heavier stuff.”

“Listen, ____, I was beyond ecstatic when you told me you were moving out of… there. I just don’t understand why you need to move in somewhere else when you can just stay with me.”

“Seokjin—”

“And it’s not like you have any problems with money or anything, I mean, you are doing okay right?”

“I am,” you answer with a smirk.

“Yah, don’t give me that look, ____. I’m serious, I really don’t understand why you have to stay somewhere else.”

“I already told you. I don’t need a big apartment, I just need a place to sleep. And isn’t it weird if we live together— people are going to think we’re co-dependent.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off, “And I know what you’re going to ask next. Why did I choose to move in an apartment on the other side of the city? And I already told you a dozen times— I need to learn how to be on my own for real this time. And it’s much cheaper compared to all the other apartments in the city center, I mean— have you seen Seoul?”

“Don’t get cheeky with me, woman. Sure yeah, valid, but have you met your neighbors?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” you ask confidently.

“Well, they could be an ax killer or something—”

“Or they could just be an ordinary person with a normal life, Seokjin.” You laugh at your brother’s catastrophic thoughts. You completely understand where he’s coming from— he just wants to protect you.

“That’s only hypothetical,” Seokjin snarks as he stops at a stoplight. You lay your hand on top of his on the console.

“I know you’re worried about me—”

“I am, you brat.”

“And I will forever be grateful… but I need to do this,” you reply calmly, almost like you were whispering. “I hope you understand.”

“I’m trying, ____. It’s not exactly easy to do that when you’re not giving me the grace to understand exactly why you need to do this… when you can just stay with me. The house is too big. And the cafe is right next door!”

“And we will get to that someday… but not right now, hm?” Seokjin sighs in defeat. “I will call you every single night if that will make you feel better.”

“Yah, those kinds of things have to come from the heart, not because you’re forced to do it just to appease me.”

“I’m not… I actually really want to talk to my little brother every day,” you tease as Seokjin scoffs.

“Fine, you have to call me every day, okay? Promise?”

You grin wide, “I promise.”

“And I am not your little brother, we’re only 5 months apart.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m older than you.”

Seokjin grumbles under his breath but a smirk was on his lips, “And you’re always going to be my brat.”

The coffee shop you and Seokjin run together has been passed down by your parents. Ever since Seokjin could utter the word, “coffee,” everyone in the family knew he was destined to manage the coffee chains. Even though you were technically the older one, your parents were more lenient and allowed you to forge your own path. Seokjin understood that and he wouldn’t have it any other way despite your pleas to help him with all the major business work. It has been a few years since the original coffee shop in Seongsu-dong expanded into different branches across Seoul. When you flew back from New York, you immediately put up your own artist studio right beside the cafe. Seokjin even pitched in on the idea of a gallery where people can choose to paint while drinking their favorite latte. Four years later, people now come for the art displays and occasional indie music performances, at times poetry nights.

Four years later, you were also making a name for yourself as an artist. Seokjin once told you you were a jack of all trades, master of everything because you were crafty with your hands— painting, dress-making, cooking. And you brush him off every single time.

Because if anything, one of your greatest weaknesses was believing whether or not you were good enough for anything or anyone.

Seokjin opens the door for you as you both enter the coffee shop. As soon as you come in, you are greeted by your long-time friends— Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin. You met Taehyung and Jimin in New York because you were all fine arts students. Hoseok came into the picture as Taehyung’s lover not long after the three of you came back home to Seoul.

“There she is, our little star,” Taehyung greets you with his signature boxy smile. His arms are wide open, ready to engulf you in a tight embrace. Jimin and Hoseok follow suit, each with a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s about time you show your pretty face, ____. It’s been ages since we last saw you,” Jimin quips.

“But I text and call you guys almost every day,” you defend. Hoseok pushes a plate of strawberry cake towards you and adds, “It’s not the same as seeing you in the flesh, ____. You look amazing, as always.”

“Thank you, Hobi. That’s reassuring, considering the fact that I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in ages.”

“Too many commissions?” Jimin asks.

“More than that, the gallery show at Seojung Art is in six months, and I still haven’t started on my piece.”

“Do you already know what you’re going to create?” Taehyung asks as he takes a bite of his croissant.

“That’s the problem… inspiration isn’t coming. It’s a bother,” a frown now evident across your face. Jimin holds your hand.

“You know you’re really talented, right, ____? You’ll pull through.”

“Thanks, Jiminie,” you smile at him.

“Maybe one of the customers’ paintings here could ignite a spark?” Taehyung starts. “I mean, sometimes the best kind of inspiration hits when you least expect it.”

“You’re right. I’ll sleep on it tonight… if I do get to sleep,” you chuckle, but they all know it’s more than that.

Seokjin comes back to the table with your hot mint tea— a drink that almost always helps you fall asleep.

“What’s with the dead atmosphere, guys? It’s been a while since we all got together like this and you’re all moping,” Seokjin jokes. He has always been the life of the party contrary to his very introverted nature.

“It really is a good night, isn’t it?” Taehyung replies as he eats up the last bit of his pastry. “Hoseok and I actually enjoyed the night breeze on the way here because it was just the right amount of chilly.”

“Always the romantic, this one,” Hoseok laughs.

Jimin carefully watches you as you sip your tea in silence. “Are you all settled to move in tomorrow, ____? Do you need help?”

“I’ll be fine, Jimin. I don't have as much stuff to pack, anyway.”

“Oh yeah that’s right, tomorrow’s moving day. Are you excited?” Taehyung jumps a bit on his seat, suddenly interested in the conversation.

“Not really, I mean, it’s going to be pretty boring moving stuff around, don’t you think?”

“But it’s also the start of a new beginning.” Taehyung supplies.

You smile after taking a bite of the cake, “That is very true.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to talk, but then closes it. He changes his mind anyway, “Her neighbors don’t own axes or something, right Taehyung?”

Taehyung giggles, “I don’t know, hyung, It’s not like I went into every apartment on her floor.”

Seokjin turns pale and Taehyung laughs. Taehyung used to live on the same floor as the one you’re about to move into— before he moved in with Hoseok.

“Seokjin is so worried about the neightbors that he couldn’t stop ranting about it on the way here,” you chuckle. “But as I told him, I’ll be fine.” You placed emphasis on the word fine as you held Seokjin’s hand for reassurance under the table.

“Are you telling that to us or to yourself?” Seokjin starts. He has a way of being so upfront with you that there were moments when it became the cause of your fights and misunderstandings. Seokjin sometimes does not know when to stop, yet you know he always means well. You love and dislike him for it at the same time.

“Hyung…” Jimin readily interjects.

“It’s okay, Jimin…” you put your fork down and paused before looking at Seokjin. “I am telling all of you and myself… that I will be fine. I am honestly really thankful that you’re all here now to keep me company.”

You’ve been saying the word “fine” and “okay” a whole lot that night— you started to doubt if you really are or if Seokjin was right— that you’re just trying to convince yourself of it.

“Are you holding up okay, noona?” Hoseok asks, worried.

“Of course—” you take a sharp exhale before continuing, “It also means that time is helping me get past it. And I am okay with that.”

None of your friends respond.

“We love you always, ____. You’ll always have us.” Taehyung said.

“Happy birthday, noona,” Jimin smiles.

Your friends sing you their greetings as Hoseok brings out their surprise birthday cake and flowers. As you try not to cry at their gesture, you try to give them the most genuine smile you can muster. Yet in your heart, you know it’s not enough to convince them. Or yourself.

♥ “You do not get to tell me shit because I have done everything for you—”

“I didn’t ask for any of this, Jeongguk—”

“And yet you still came here with me. If you are really that resentful about moving here… about marrying me— then why did you stay? Why are you still here?”

“I never said I resented you.”

“Yeah? Well it feels like it. You make me feel like shit whenever I can’t help you! God I— you know what? I’m done. I can’t do this with you anymore.”

“W-what do you mean you can’t—”

“—I’m saying we should end this. I want a divorce.”

Yoongi gently shakes Jeongguk’s shoulder to wake him up. “We’re almost landing, Jeongguk-ah,” he whispers.

Jeongguk slightly jerks from his sleep. His body feels heavy, his brain foggy but at the same time trying to recover from the dream he just had.

“It’s the same dream again, isn’t it?” Yoongi asks, knuckles turning white as he holds on to the arm rests. Turbulence has always been a bitch— well, at least to Yoongi. Jeongguk doesn’t answer him; instead, he looks out the plane window, thinking the plane couldn’t land fast enough.

“You keep calling out for her, you know? When you dream, I mean. Did you know that?”

That gets Jeongguk’s attention. He bites down on his lip ring before shaking his head, “No. I didn’t know.”

From baggage claim until Jeongguk and Yoongi exit through arrivals, there has been nothing but silence. Yoongi notices how Jeongguk’s hands couldn’t keep still: he’d take them in and out of his pockets. As they walk to the car that awaits them, Yoongi asks once more— “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?

Jeongguk lets out a long breath before looking at his best friend: “I will be.”

“This is the last of the boxes, ma’am.” One of the movers holds a medium-sized box. “Where do you want me to put it?”

You get up from one of the boxes you were opening, “Oh, that’s okay, I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“I just need you to sign one more thing before we wrap up.”

“Of course,” you take the pen and sign on the dotted line.

“Have a good day,” The movers gave you a small bow before they went on their way. Looking around the room, you let out a sigh. The apartment is bigger than you initially thought but you are happy about that. There’s an extra room spacious enough to set up a painting studio.

Your eyes land on the last box that was given to you by the mover. Inside it are memories that you don’t feel ready to touch just yet. Despite everything else scattered around your room, you pick up the box and shove it into the back corner of your closet. Maybe someday you’ll have the heart to open it again, but right now, it stays out of sight.

You were about to start opening one of the other boxes when a soft, melodic voice comes up behind you— “Hey baby.”

You turn around quickly, your heart and body naturally gravitating to the owner of the voice: Kim Woosung, your boyfriend.

“Hi,” you softly respond, heart happy upon seeing your boyfriend’s smile. He sets the take-out bags down to hug you. Woosung then gives you a long kiss on your forehead, mumbling, “I missed you.”

You don’t lift your eyes to meet his right away, but your hands reach out for his as he cradles your face. When you finally look at him, he gives you that warm smile you have always loved. With Woosung, there is peace, the kind that secures your heart. As he aligns his forehead with yours, you feel all your worries melt away.

With Woosung, everything feels safe, so right.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Woosung apologizes. You shake your head gently and wrap your arms around his neck.

“You’re just in time.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #bts au #jungkook fic #bts jungkook #bts fanfiction #woosung x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook divorce au #jungkook fanfic #childhood friends #divorce au #mwillow: last to know

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 1 month

Note

Um, if you’re taking Twilight requests, what about Edward lying about being a virgin and having never loved anyone before Bella? A past vampire lover shows up out of the blue and is upset that Edward has moved on? Maybe they separated because she didn’t want to do the vegetarian diet? But then she changed her mind because she was lonely and missed Edward. So she shows up asking the Cullens to let her join and teach her the diet in the hopes she and Edward can get back together. Carlisle can’t turn her away (maybe he turned her after Edward) and so she stays but it’s awkward for everyone. So you have this love triangle with the ex, Edward, and Bella. But Bella also still has her thing with Jacob lol. So it’s kind of a love square. And Bella feels insecure about this new woman showing up and it puts a strain on the relationship with Edward and the Cullens.

I just find it hard to believe Edward didn’t have an interest in anyone at all in 80+ years after being turned. It would really suck being the only single in a house of couples.

Pairing(s): Edward Cullen x Vampire!Reader, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan, Jacob Black x Bella Swan

Warnings: love square, mentions of blood (human and animal), hurt feelings, cheating?, longing, both bella and edward are sexually frustrated lol, past relationships mentioned, might be a two parter 🤷🏽‍♀️

Words: 2761

He can't help but think of her when the smell of jasmine filled the air. Bringing him back to a moment in time that he saved specifically to reminisce on when Edward found himself alone. He could practically feel the gentle breeze tousle his bronze hair. Her laugh ringing in his ears as clear as church bells. The only thing that ruined the memory was recalling the smear of red on her smiling face. Red of human blood.

Pulling himself out of his revery, Edward realizes that he'd been sitting at the piano for a possible hour, staring off as he dissociated. He hadn't thought of her in a while.

Must have to do with Bella's new perfume. It reminds him of-

The pinging of his phone has him sharply inhaling, abruptly remembering the physical world he's almost rudely thrown out of his own mind.

Bella's name shows up on his screen. That's right, he's supposed to be picking her up for a date in five minutes.

Edward scratches his head, pondering how long he'd exactly been there.

Quickly dashing to his keys, Edward is out the door in seconds. Dwelling in the past served him no purpose. His life was finally starting to move forward.

Well, there were a few halts along the way. Mainly one that went by the name of Jacob Black. A massive thorn in his side.

Damn it all that Bella even reciprocated the mongrel's feelings, despite her protesting. No doubt Bella loved Edward, that still didn't mean she didn't love Jacob too.

Perhaps that was why he was thinking so much about her as of late.

The lights in your hotel room are all turned off. Didn't matter if they were on. Your vision was clear either way as they watched the subtle movement of shadows cast by what little light streamed in through the blinds.

Your dinner lay still on the bed next to you. Nutrients drained from it. Usually you tried not to make a mess when you ate. If you had enough time in the day (also if your prey was easy on the eyes) you'd work on a way not to kill them. Only take a bit of their blood then dash off while they slept. Nothing too gruesome, though they probably question the healing slit on their wrist when they awoke the next morning.

Tonight, unfortunately, took a different tone. An atypical type of desperation filled you to the brim, screaming at you to consume every part of the man who you had your teeth sunk in. You wanted to rip him to shreds and actually eat the meat that clung to his bones. It terrified even you.

You sigh and finally withdrew yourself to the bathroom. There was work to be done. The blood on your face dried a long time ago.

What were you even doing with your immortal life?

Day in, day out, everything felt the same. Especially the gaping loneliness you'd been feeling.

In your beginning days of immortality, you'd quite enjoyed it. You discovered all sorts of new things you could do with your powerful new body. And you liked discovering them with Edward.

Back then it was just the four of you for the longest time: you, Edward, Carlisle and shortly after Esme. Then you and Edward went off together on your own for a couple of years.

You wished you and Edward had never strayed from Carlisle. At the end of it, you realized that you didn't want to go back. You wanted to feast on human blood and not shy away your power.

Young and dumb, that's what you thought of your past self now. Decades later and you were now seeing the repercussions of your actions come to light.

You missed having a mate to travel the world with. Someone to turn to late at night to keep you company. You miss Edward's gentle caresses that coaxed your attention his way.

The blood of humans wasn't worth it anymore.

Losing track of how many years it had been since you checked your private PO box, you honestly weren't anticipating anything. The only one who knew about it was Carlisle. He'd begged for some form of contact information before you split from his coven. Fatherly responsibility was the root of it. His second vampiric creation.

A part of you is delighted to find two slim envelopes collecting dust. The first one was dated over a decade ago. They'd been in Alaska apparently and met other vegetarian vampires. Most recent one only several weeks old. In this one he gave you an exact address in Washington.

You stare at Carlisle's hand writing. Getting choked up, you put the letters in your bag. It was quite the journey you had ahead of you to get to Forks.

In the blink of an eye, Edward leaps away from Bella at the feel of her fingers digging into his shirt in an attempt to deepen the kiss. They'd been playing this push and pull game for some time now.

"Bella-" He sighs in exasperation and runs a hand through his tousled hair.

Bella's brows furrow in return, a pout rising on her lips as she sits back on her bed again but at a distance. She'd heard him repeat himself so many times about being careful with her. How she's so fragile compared to him. Like she didn't already know of her delicate mortal body. Just a few months ago James nearly broke every bone in her body.

"I know!" She hadn't meant to sharply snap at him. Edward was just trying to protect her like he always did. A steady exhale flares through her nose as she rests her head against the back board of her bed. He constantly left her craving more of his touch.

Like any man, Edward desired physical contact. With Bella that desire was too much. Too dangerous. The forbidden fruit that Edward must resist by any and all costs.

The first and last girl he'd taken to bed was. . .

What he could never tell Bella was that he wasn't a virgin like he had told her. After all, he had been alive for decades. Being a virgin for that long was implausible.

He traced where the golden rays of the sun hit your skin. In the presence of light, your skin reflects like a million sparkling stars. You're trying to fix the headboard of your bed that both of you broke during your love making.

"We can just buy a new one." Edward chuckles, his fingers run up your bare spine causing you to shiver. The headboard wasn't the only thing both of you accidentally demolished. Bedsheets were torn to shreds, feathers from the pillows dusted your hair, even the mattress creaked ominously.

Your brows are creased in a small pout. "I hope this doesn't happen every time we have sex."

At your words, Edward felt something in his stomach unfurl and warm. Happy to hear that this wouldn't be the last time he got to touch you.

When you catch him staring, your frown turns up into a coy smile. "What're you looking at?"

"You."

"Obviously. But why?" You ask that like you weren't still naked as the day you were born.

He coaxes you back into his arms, little resistance from your part as you rest your head against his chest. "Because you're painfully beautiful."

Edward wasn't just buttering you up. When he said that, there was undeniable warmth and adoration that dripped from his tone. He was smitten. You'd never had any man regard you in such a way that made you feel vulnerable. You trusted Edward with your most vulnerable self.

He smirks when he reads your thoughts. Gently, he tilts your head back so that he can capture your lips.

After you, Edward thought he'd never fall in love again. Not as intensely as he had with you.

Bella came extremely close. But because she was human, Edward was limited in how he can show his affection. Even holding her hand, Edward had to reign in his supernatural strength. The slightest amount of his real strength could break her entire hand.

Without reading her thoughts, he could feel her annoyance and frustration. She desperately wanted to take things to the next level like any healthy teenager would. Bella desired to experience the physical aspects of their relationship. Were he human or even like Jacob. . . Edward would be more than happy to let himself fall into his temptations.

That just wasn't so.

The drive back home was a silent one as Bella stared out the window. As of late her attempts to get intimate in him were becoming more and more frequent. Along with her desire for Edward to change her into a vampire. He didn't want to change her just because it would make their relationship easier. That was still a last case scenario that he kept in the back of his mind. She didn't view her humanity the way Edward and his family did. It wasn't something to carelessly throw away. None of them had a choice in the matter. All were on the brink of death when Carlisle turned them. They would not have willingly given up their mortality.

Edward tried multiple times to convey this to Bella. It would go in one ear and out the other. Normally Edward didn't mind stubborn women. You were as stubborn as a bull during arguments. The two of you literally butting heads to get your point across. Those arguments never mattered in the end. There'd only been one argument that truly tore the two of you apart. Your very last argument.

Getting within a five mile radius of the Cullen house, Edward nearly slams the brakes of the car when he listens to the minds of those in the house. One whom he couldn't quite believe he was hearing.

Bella felt the swerving of the car. She glances at Edward with concern. "A-Are you okay?"

His grip tightened on the wheel, the flimsy material bends under his fingers.

He was hearing YOUR thoughts.

Esme refused to let you out of her hug.

Helplessly, you glance around the room; your gaze landing on a smiling Carlisle.

"Welcome home." His smile is heard in his words.

Finally Esme pulls back, her hands flying to your face to turn it this way and that. "Have you been eating enough? Oh look at your clothes. Alice, can you get her some new clothes?" You notice how her face flinches with nervousness when her gold eyes meet your red ones.

"I'm fine, Esme." You giggle and lower her hands away from your face to give them a reassuring squeeze.

"Clearly. Look at her eyes. She's been feeding on human blood." Rosalie needlessly points out. Yeah, you didn't really miss her. You had no idea what her mate saw in her besides the pretty face. Emmett was a bear of a man with the personality of a stuffed animal. You hadn't yet met Alice, Jasper or Emmett. When you left it was only Carlisle, Edward, Esme, Rosalie and you.

"I know that'll have to change if I want to live here again." You murmur defensively. "I'm ready now. Human blood isn't worth being alone anymore."

Esme's smile beams and once again she smothers you in a bear hug.

"Esme, give her some space. We don't want to scare her off." Carlisle pats his wife on her shoulder. Even Carlisle couldn't stop smiling. He'd sent that letter so long ago that he doubted you'd even read it.

"By the way. . . Where's Edward?" You curiously ask. Everyone appeared to be home except the one face you really wanted to see.

Instantly the room goes deadly silent.

"What?"

Carlisle grimaces and glances at his wife who was equally unsure of how to tell you. "There's something you need to know."

Your eyebrow quirks up. "Oh?"

He couldn't continue. The door swings open. No one had heard the sound of Edward's car entering the driveway or heard his hurried steps up the porch.

When the two of you lock eyes, the rigidness of his frame slackens and his honey eyes glisten with that same fondness he'd always had for you. He breathes out your name like it's a sacred phrase. You were even more beautiful to him standing there than the day he'd lost you.

You feel it to. That instant pull of your heart as it attempts to escape from your chest to jump at Edward. Your entire body vibrates with the intense urge to be close to him.

You would have run to him. Had it not been for the human girl at his side.

The rose tint your world had taken on faded in that moment to reveal the drabness of this brunette that stuck to his side. Her own brown eyes wavering in your presence.

Now highly conscious of Bella's existence next to him, Edward hastily makes introductions. "Um, Bella, this is (y/n). (y/n), this is. . . Bella."

Alice groans. "Way to go Ed."

"What's going on?" Timidly asked Bella who was still staring at you. She didn't like the way you and Edward had stared at one another like star-crossed lovers come together again. Bella hated how he'd said your name with such veneration. For so long Bella possessed Edward's sole attention. She was loathe to relinquish any of it.

Jasper and Emmett averted their eyes from the train wreck that was occurring.

Being blunt as usual, Rosalie steps in. "They used to date too."

Bella's eyes widen and with an expression of betrayal flicks to Edward. "Date?"

"Well, probably more than simple dating from the sounds that would come out of their room." Rosalie's tone was that of boredom. This was old news to her but new news to Bella. News that shattered her perception of everything around her.

"Rosalie!" Edward snaps at her.

She rolls her eyes. "Everyone was taking way too damn long in saying anything. What? Doesn't Bella deserve to know?" Rosalie looks at you while pointing a finger between Edward and Bella. "They're dating now."

"Yeah, I kinda got that." You glare at the blonde who was unaffected by the daggers thrown at her. Really, you were angry with the human girl. A human with the man you'd called your mate for so long. Jealousy licks the walls of your stomach like white hot flames.

Edward stands in front of Bella. "You're the one who left me." He whispers but everyone can hear it.

Bristling, you turn your back on the two and back to your adoptive father. "Where did you say my room was?"

"You told me you never had sex before!!" Bella can't help the shaky quality of her voice. Anger and hurt overwhelmed her. Tears bubble along her lower lashes. She keeps as far away from Edward as possible. "What else haven't you told me? O-Or lied to me about?"

"Bella-"

"And you still love her! No! Don't try to deny it. I heard you say her name when you first saw her. Everyone did Edward!" Maybe that was the worst part of it. That Edward still held a flame for you. She had so many questions. How long was it after their separation did Edward meet Bella? Why weren't they still together? Clearly you were staying if you'd asked Carlisle where your room was. For how long?

Did you intend to take Edward from her? Would you hurt her?

"I shouldn't have lied to you. I'm sorry, Bella." And he was. Edward never thought you'd come back to him after all those years apart. Boy he was royally fucked though.

Because he was still in love with you. That much was evident. The knowledge of you being just down the hall was driving him crazy. Something deep inside of him was begging to be with you.

Meanwhile on your end of the hallway, you're doing the best you can to not break everything in your room. He was right. Damnit he was right. You were the one to leave. Unable to accommodate to the vegetarian lifestyle. You gave up Edward for the high that human blood offered you. It would be unfair to expect Edward to pine for you. You should've taken into thought that maybe he'd moved on.

The backs of your eyes burned with the urge to cry. Unable to produce tears, all you can do is wrap yourself in blankets and let the dark swallow you whole.

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #twilight fandom #twilight fanfiction #the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilight #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen fanfiction #edward cullen imagine #edward #edward cullen fanfic #edward cullen #edward cullen reader insert #story requests #requests #request

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deanwritings · 1 year

Text

Capeesh?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Request: So excited you're back! Can I request a protective/jealous!Dean x reader fic with an established relationship? Vibes of "don't touch her" would be much appreciated 😅

Summary: A fun night out at the bar takes a turn for the worse when a handsy patron approaches the reader.

Word Count: 1,928

Warning: Descriptions of violence & self defense related injuries. Cussing, if that bothers you.

Gif:

A/N: Years ago I went to a gym with my dad and the trainer/owner, this HUGE muscle head and really sweet man, gave me a free self defense class, which I still keep in mind to this day and peppered into this story.

And Happy New Year's y'all!

You lean against Dean as you take a sip of your beer, Dean's hand resting against your waist as you both politely listen to Sam as he shares a new piece of lore he learned during your latest hunt. You nod along, slightly intrigued with what Sam's found, but really wishing he could have saved the shop-talk for a time you weren't trying to unwind. Your body was still sore from the arachne fight, and you could use a break from all things hunting, even if it was just for a night. You can't see Dean's face from your vantage point, but if you had to guess, your boyfriend was likely staring his brother down with a straight face hoping he'll shut up.

You tip your bottle back again, but are disappointed when only a few drops trickle out. You give the bottle a little shake as you look through the brown glass, confirming with yourself that it was in fact empty.

You place the bottle down and step away from Dean, his hand falling from your waist. At the movement, Dean looks down at you and frowns.

"Be right back, need a new beer." You tap the glass as your straighten up from the high-top table. "Anyone need anything?"

Both brothers shake their heads and you make your way over to the bar, thankful for a break from the earful of arachne lore.

It's a fairly busy evening for Wednesday night, most tables occupied and the bar itself swimming with patrons. Luckily, you eye an opening just big enough for you to squeeze into and you step into the space. After a few moments, one of the bartender spots you as you rest your hands against the slightly sticky bar top and gives you a nod as he pours a blue liquor into a cocktail shaker.

You purse your lips as you look around the room, the crowd mostly older, with a few twenty-somethings mixed in. It seemed to be the only bar in town when you had Google Maps a spot earlier, so you weren't surprise that this seemed to be the local's go-to pub.

Your gaze falls back to the bar, taking in the bottle labels on the tiered shelves as your nails tap against the wood beneath them.

Jameson. Crown Royal. Bacardi. Bacardi Tropical. That's a new one.

A man brushes besides you as he steps into the very small space that had been open on your right. You look up at him and frown, quietly expressing your annoyance at the invasion of your person space. You get it's crowded, but the guy could have just waited behind you or someone else until a space opened up.

Rude much.

But rather than be turned off by your vexed welcome, the man just smiles down at you.

You huff and roll your eyes, looking for the bartender, his back to you as he appears to be serving two cocktails to a pair of older women.

"Can I buy you a drink?" The man next to you raises his voice over the noise of the crowd, leaning in towards you to make sure his question is heard.

His smile is still plastered over his pale face, his blonde hair shaggy over his forehead. You just glare up at him, your annoyance growing as it appears the man is incapable of reading social cues.

You see the bartender approach you, and you turn your shoulder away, squaring yourself up to the bar.

"Just a Bud Light, bottle, please." The bartender nods at you and turns to squats down at the fridge casing all the bottles.

"How about a name?" Warm breath tickles your ear, and your shoulder scrunches up at the sudden closeness as your stomach tightens.

The bartender places the beer back in front of you and asks a question with his eyes.

"The Winchester tab, thanks." The guy nods and and punches the drink into the POS.

You turn to walk away when that pestering voice calls out again.

"Winchester, huh?" You take a deep breath and turn to face the thorn in your side. "How about a first name?" His elbow leans against the bar and his eyebrow is raised at you. His grey t-shirt stretches across his chest at his position and he continues to smile at you.

He's looks like the poster boy for punchable assholes.

"Since you seem to be too dumb to figure it out on your own, let me spell it out for you." You smile tightly at him. "I'm not fucking interested." You feel your eyes crinkle along the edges as your lips tighten.

Finally, his smile falls, and he straightens up.

"Cunt," he spits.

Ah, there it is.

"You know it." Your forehead rises as you raise your beer and take a drink before turning on your heel.

As you approach your table, Dean is standing at attention, his jaw tight.

"All good?" You come alongside him, your shoulders brushing.

You look up at him and smile, genuinely.

You weren't surprised he was watching the interaction. Dean usually had his eye on you if you weren't by his side. You weren't sure if he knew that you knew he was always watching. When you first started dating, it had bothered you. It made you feel like Dean thought you couldn't handle yourself. But the more Dean opened up to you, you realized that it was just a part of Dean he was never going to shake; he had to know that his loved ones were safe, no matter where they were. A lifetime of losing everyone you've ever loved will do that to a man.

"Nothing I can't handle." You bump his shoulder and his body relaxes with a sigh. His jaw loosens and his smile returns as he throws his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his side.

Another two beers later, ones that Dean insisted he get, your bladder was uncomfortably full, and you excused yourself to the bathroom.

The bathroom was in the very back of the bar away from the crowds, and as you washed your hands, you took a moment to appreciate the quietnesses. You loved bars and going out drinking with Sam and Dean; it was one of the few normal things you did in your lives. But it was nice to take a break from the noise and masses to reset before you threw yourself back out there.

After drying your hands, you take a moment to readjust your ponytail, a few hairs having gone astray from Dean's hand playing at the nape of your neck.

You shake your head at the thought with a smile.

Once you're all set, you exit the restroom, your eyes looking down the narrow and dimmed corridor when a hand wraps around your bicep and twirls you around.

You smile at the movement until your back is thrown against the wall, your head bouncing off the wood on the impact.

Before your vision catches up with the rest of you, you already know whose body heat is radiating in front of you; not your boyfriend, sneaking up on you for a private make-out session, but a scumbag barfly who had been harassing you early.

"Maybe next time you won't be such a bitch," whiskey wafts over you. Your nose scrunches and you turn your head away from the smell, but fingers wrap around your chin forcing you to look into his dark eyes, his pupils dilated and eyes wildly jumping back and forth as an elbow lands heavy on your windpipe.

You glare at him, your heart rate calming as you take a breath.

This asshole has no idea who he was dealing with.

"And hopefully this time you'll learn your lesson," you wheeze out as his elbow digs into your throat, restricting your breath.

He cocks his head at you and before he can react, your right hand flies to his fingers wrapped around your chin and you grasp his thumb. With a swift surety, you snap his thumb back with a sickening crack. A howl leaves his throat as his hand and arm fall away from your body. He begins to back away, his eyes looking at his broken thumb in horror, but you grab onto his shoulders, driving his body back to yours as you ram your knee into his crotch, nothing but a strangled cry and a lone tear in his eye as his knees hit the ground and he doubles over.

Your chest in heaving as you look down at the pathetic man in front of you; his good hand holding his bruised boys and his mangled hand cradled against his chest.

"Y/N!" A familiar voice echoes down the hallway. You turn towards the shadow racing towards you, and Dean is illuminated in the dim light above you as he reaches your side.

"What the fuck happened?" His forehead is wrinkled as he takes in the battered man in front of him.

"Like I said," you glance toward the pathetic excuse of a man whimpering on the ground. "Nothing I can't handle."

Dean's eyes find yours before they quickly scan over your face, then your body, making sure you were actually okay.

"C'mon," his hand lands gently on the same bicep that had been grabbed just a few seconds ago. "Let's get out of here."

You and Dean turn away but a rasped voice calls out to you.

"You psycho bitch! You'll get yours."

You just shake your head and continue your way back to the table, but Dean stops beside you.

"Dean," you say in a low warning. His head glances back slightly over his shoulder.

"What'd you say, douchebag?" Dean ignores you as he turns around and you reach out to him, though he brushes you off as he stalks towards the man picking himself off from the dirty bar floor.

His eyes find Dean, and he squares his jaw.

"I said," the man rolls his shoulders back. "Your girl's a fucking psycho and I'm pressing charges."

You're a step behind Dean, and before you can reach out and stop him, Dean's got the man pinned against the wall, holding him up by his t-shirt that looks like its about to rip.

"Press this, dick," Dean growls as his fist whips into the guy's nose. Blood spews as Dean drops him and he crumbles to the ground, tears now streaming down his cheeks, mixing with the gruesome stream flowing over his lips.

Dean squats down the the man's level, his finger his in the man's face.

"Touch her again, and there will be no one to press charges, capeesh?" Even without knowing Dean, anyone with a brain could tell it wasn't a question.

"Fuck you guys!" Blood sprays as the man yells.

Dean just rolls his eyes and stands up, taking one large step to your side.

"How about we call it a night?" Dean smirks down at you, unaware of the splatter on his flannel as he throws an arm around your shoulder.

"Sounds like a plan to me." You arm wraps around Dean's waist, your fingers only reaching the far side of his back as you smile up at him.

The two of you take a few synchronized steps before Dean glances over his shoulder again. You watch him closely before his eye face forward, a proud smile on his face.

Dean's elbow closes around your head as he pulls you into him, his lips pressing against your temple.

"Nice job, sweetheart."

A/N: Sorry, I really wanted to have a badass reader with Dean coming in for assistance vs. Dean coming to save the day. Figure if the reader's a hunter, she can definitely handle a handsy guy on her own. Protective!Dean is just a bonus. Hope you enjoyed, anon!

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