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lillywillow · 1 year

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It Started With a Jar

Summary: When Steve can’t get a jar of pickles open, he heads to the gym for help

Word Count: 1452

Written for: @the-slumberparty ‘s Week Four: Across the Universe challenge (Modern AU)

Pairings: Skinny!Steve Rogers x StrongWoman!Reader (No descriptions of body though)

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, use of pet names, some bullying

One afternoon, Steve decided he wanted some pickles for a snack. He grabbed the jar and tried to open the lid but it wouldn’t budge. He tried using a towel, a grip, running it under hot water and banging it against the counter but the lid was stuck tight. Normally, Steve would ask his roommate Bucky with a problem like this but he was out of town for the day. He could ask Sam but he would tease him first. Sure, he could wait until later to have his snack but his desire for a pickle really outweighed his patience. Maybe… maybe someone at the local gym could help him with his problem.

…

As Steve looked around the gym, he felt intimidated. Most of these guys looked like they could snap him in two and they probably could… that’s why he decided not to bother them. He looked around for someone who looked less like they would be annoyed if he asked them something so silly. That’s when he spotted a woman who had just finished a workout and was wiping off her machine.

“Um, excuse me,” Steve began, waiting for her response.

“Yeah?” she replied, taking out an earbud to hear him better.

“I… I know this sounds silly but I was wondering if… if you might be able to help me open this…” he stated, presenting the jar. “I tried everything at home and it just wouldn’t open…”

The woman gave him a warm smile that sent butterflies swarming in the pit of his stomach.

“Sure thing, cutie,” she smiled, extending her hand for the jar.

Steve handed over the item and she attempted to pry the lid off.

“My, it is a bit tight, isn’t it?” she grunted, placing the jar between her knees for better leverage.

The fact that even someone like her was struggling with it proved to Steve how badly stuck this lid was on. Finally, the damn thing relented with a soft pop.

“There you go, hon. That was a tough one…” she softly sighed, handing the pickles back to him.

“Thank you so much,” Steve beamed. “Um… would you like one?” he offered.

“No, thank you, sweets. If you ever have that problem again, just ask for Y/N,” she smiled.

“I’m Steve,” he replied.

“I hope to see you around again, Steve,” Y/N smiled as she headed to the locker rooms.

As Steve headed home with his jar of pickles, he really did hope he would see her again.

…

A few weeks went by and Steve would come to the gym to ask for your help opening jars. It got to a point where you enjoyed his visits. You started getting something to eat or drink with him after your sessions and had pleasant conversations. Sometimes, Steve would help you out with your forms, sometimes, he would bring his art book and draw. It never bothered you. Steve would sit out of the way, occasionally glancing up at you before looking back at whatever piece he was working on. You just smiled and went on with your workout. There were however, some jerks that did object to having this sweet guy on their territory.

One day, Steve was going about his business drawing when some big dude knocked his book out of his hand. He tried to recover it but another guy stepped on his hand. Steve winced and looked up at the two bullies.

“You don’t belong here, string bean,” one of them sneered.

“Yeah,” the other repeated with the same sinister look on his face.

“Hey!” you shouted, abandoning your weights and rushing over to them. “Leave him alone!”

“He doesn’t even work out!” one of the men protested, shifting his foot from Steve’s hand.

“So what? He’s not hurting anyone,” you retorted.

“Let’s see what management has to say about him being him,” the other one threatened.

“Yeah, you go ahead and do that Bruno. I’m sure they’d be very interested in knowing that your membership here expired two years ago but you’re still coming…”

The one identified as Bruno backed off.

“And you, Julian… I’m sure they’d also like to know about that so-called documentary you shot in the men’s locker-room…”

Defeated, the two men walked away. You instantly knelt down to tend to Steve.

“Are you okay, baby boy? Did he hurt you?” you asked, gently taking the hand that had been stepped on in yours to assess the damage.

“I’m okay. I think it feels worse than it looks,” he sniffled.

“Let’s take a break now,” you suggested, helping Steve pick up the pages that had fallen out of his book.

As you picked up the pieces of paper, you noticed most of the drawings were of you. Some of them were of you in your athletic clothes, some were of you posed mid-workout but reimagined into some kind of warrior or goddess engaged in battle. You felt flattered. Steve blushed furiously when he noticed you looking at those ones in particular.

“I’m so sorry,” he began, becoming all flustered.

“Don’t worry about it, Stevie. I did give you my permission to draw me… I just find it amazing this how you see me,” you softly smiled.

Steve smiled back, his blush creeping down his neck and tinting the tips of his ears. You found him utterly adorable. His face suddenly fell as he looked over your shoulder. You followed his gaze to where Bruno was being obnoxious on the other side of the gym.

“Do you think he’s right? About me?” Steve asked sadly.

You scoffed at the idea.

“Don’t listen to those two morons. Between them they share half a braincell. They just pick on anyone that doesn’t fit into their perfect little ideals of what gymgoers should look like. They did it to me when I first started coming, now I can bench-press as much as them if not more.”

This made Steve smile a little.

“Do you think I could try a workout?” he asked.

“Of course,” you softly smiled.

After taking a little break to make sure Steve’s hand was okay, you started him with the lightest weights.

“Shouldn’t I have heavier weights?” he asked, noticing how easy it was to pick them up.

You shook your head.

“The key thing to remember with weight training is that it’s a marathon, not a sprint. You move too fast, too quickly and you’ll end up hurting yourself. I’ve seen guys who have had muscles pull off the bone because they tried to go too hard,” you explained.

Steve nodded slowly. You slowly guided him through his workout, giving him advice on which exercises he should be doing. By the end of the session, Steve was sore but felt good.

…

After that day, Steve started to join you in your workouts as a partner. You added him to your friend pass so he could continue coming without being harassed by staff or any other jerks like Julian and Bruno. Within a few weeks, Steve could already see some improvements. It was becoming his favourite part of his day because not only did he like the post-workout feeling but he loved spending time with you. He also enjoyed going out for a bite to eat after.

You also admired Steve’s commitment to getting stronger. He was so passionate about everything he tried and listened to your advice when you gave it rather than trying to push through and damaging his body.

After one really good session, you and Steve were just wrapping things up.

“Good job today, Steve. I’m proud of you,” you praised.

Steve beamed at your words. They meant a lot to him.

“Um, Y/N?”

“Yes, Steve?”

“I was just wondering… we’ve known each other for a while now and I was wondering if… maybe we could go out on a proper date? It’s cool if you say no, I just…”

You cut off his rambling with a kiss to the cheek.

“I’d love to go on a date with you. Shall we discuss over our usual lunch where we could go to dinner?”

Steve grinned and nodded. As he watched you head to the lady’s locker room, he couldn’t help but think how lucky he was to have met you. And to think, it never would have happened if he didn’t a craving for pickles all that long ago.

#navy and roo's sleepover #navy and roo sleepover #Week 4 #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #Skinny Steve #gym

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moonmeg · 1 year

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I don’t know if anyone has already asked this, but what would be calyns ideal date night? Thanks!

Not a date night but I hope this gets the idea across:

《What's the matter?》, Caleb stepped outside from the back door of the house to their little garden. Evelyn tended to the countless of plants there daily, considering each plant her child. Right now, she had interrupted her gardening and sat on her knees in front of the patch and faced the sky. A content little smile on her face as she bathed in the sunlight for a moment.

《The weather is beautiful today.》, she answered her husband.

Caleb looked up to the endless sky above them and examined it. The sky had it's typical red tint, a gradient to yellow and white on some parts, one to light blue on others. There were barely any clouds that could hide the sun and so it shone onto the Boiling Isles and shared it's warmth. He pressed one eye shut as he shortly looked at the sun before his attention was back on his wife, sitting there still in the same pose.

Her brunette mane shimmered dark red in the sun's light.

《'Tis indeed. It hasn't been so nice in days.》

《I can't work like that. I'd rather lay down and do nothing.》

《Then why don't we just do that?》Caleb smiled, his adoring gaze not leaving her.

Evelyn opened her eyes and turned to him with a questioning but intrigued face.

《Let's fly to our favorite place and do nothing but enjoy the day. It'd be a shame to spend it working.》,he elaborated leaning on the walls of their house, hands hidden in the pockets of his pants.

Evelyn grinned at the suggestion but the deal wasn't complete to her likings yet.

《Will there be food?》, she squinted her eyes in suspicion jokingly.

Caleb nodded.

《What about beverage?》, she continued and received another nod as response.

《Anything you like, Eve. Just bear in mind I cannot drink and eat everything from the Boiling Isles cuisine.》, he chuckled.

《We'll find you something.》

She levied herself up and untied the knots holding her apron and headband in their respective places by drawing a circle in the air. With the same circle they landed on the bench that was standing fixed next to Caleb. Evelyn approached him and as she passed him, she grabbed into his shirt and pulled him into the house with her. They were grinning at the other as if they were freshly in love, the grins turning into laughs when they began teasing each other with different things.

Once the basket was full with food and beverage, Evelyn covered it with a blanket and placed it in the crook of ger elbow. They were leaving the kitchen behind as a mess - cupboards open to different degrees, drawers and what they held inside exposed, jars and products not where they are supposed to be, some crumbs here, a few stains there. For now they shrugged it off. The messy kitchen was a problem for the Evelyn and Caleb of this evening.

Outside again, Evelyn summoned her staff, moving the basket from her elbow to the front of the staff.

《Shall we then?》, she smiled at her husband sitting down on her staff with both legs on the same side.

《With great pleasure.》, Caleb followed his wife and caught the wooden staff Flapjack turned into. He seated himself on the staff the same way she did and returned her smile.

Evelyn chuckled facing the ground, acting as if a tryst with Caleb made her nervous and shy. Her soft smile quickly turned into a smirk. She met his eyes and Caleb's own smile faded a little at the realization of what she's about to do.

《Last one there takes over all chores for the week!》, she yelled and at incredible speed was up in the sky. She made a quick halt to add: 《First one there gets hundred kisses!》and then flew off again.

Caleb followed her with his eyes until she was out of sight. He gave a small scoff and shook his head lightly before his lips formed into an adoring smile - he loved her so much.

《Alright, Flap. Let's get those one hundred kisses.》

#moonmeg ask #calyn #caleb wittebane #evelyn clawthorne #wittecouple #caleb x evelyn

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pred1059 · 1 year

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Runaway Wind Chapter Thirty Six

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In Castle Oblivion Naminé never even dared to believe that she could find real love. Even the facade conjured up from fabricated memories would one day fall apart. But despite the lectures to “Get over it” and carry on with the plan, some part of her ached for someone that cared about her for who she was. Not an illusion or fabrication, just her.

Of course, such an end to her loneliness was nothing compared to her wish for freedom. When Ventus had saved her from the castle, seeing the outside world had pushed the thought of romance away. In the weeks since, taking a stand against the Organization and Maleficent were far more of a priority than flights of fancy.

But now Yuffie’s comments had put a pin on the thought she once entertained. Tossing out the idea of flying and calling it a date for fun seemed to be something Yuffie did more on a lark than any serious comment. Today, she seemed to enjoy calling it that, even as Ventus and Naminé tried to correct her. Even as she called everyone to whatever she had found, she called them ‘lovebirds’ as though it was second nature. But if that was it, then perhaps she could just ignore it as teasing, or just an honest mistake. Besides, how could a Nobody even fall in love?

Yet Naminé couldn’t just say that she saw Ven as simply a friend, and it wasn’t simply because he rescued her. The way he wanted to help everyone as much as he could. Even despite his own pain he tried to try and find some way forward. To try and grasp some kind of happiness once again. Even if it was as simple as some time spent with his friends.

And perhaps it was the way he looked at her with fondness. How warm his hand felt in hers. How the two of them had found some strength to stand against the Organization.

Was this how Kairi felt with Sora? A chance encounter which slowly led to a fond friend becoming something precious beyond words?

Of course, she really shouldn’t jump to conclusions. For one thing, after the discussion this morning, getting into such feelings so soon might be suspicious. And although she abhorred the idea of manipulating Ventus into such a relationship, there was no real way anyone else at Hollow Bastion really could know for sure. Not to mention, Ven hardly seemed sure himself of what relationship they both had if his fit of stammering was anything to go by.

And of course, finding answers about Terra and Aqua was a bigger problem right now.

Fortunately, as they entered the massive room Yuffie had found, Naminé suspected they were very close. As they stood on a walkway overlooking a colossal room of tubes and machines, Yuffie spread her arms wide. “Take a look at this place!” She said as she opened the door to the observation deck. “All these machines have to be for something big!”

Leon walked past her into the room and muttered, “We’ll see if that something big has anything to do with Ventus’ friends.”

Ventus had recovered from his momentary blushing fit, and looked over the expanse. “What are all the jars for?”

Leon scowled as he looked over the machinery through the window. “Before Hollow Bastion fell to darkness, Ansem began extracting hearts from people to experiment with them and create heartless.”

If the amount of jars were anything to go by, he had a lot of research material. A fact that made Ventus pale, and Naminé had to admit the implication chilled her stomach as well. Though briefly sobered, Yuffie tried to smile as she patted the keyboard in front of a black screen. “Well, this thing has to have a ton of info on what happened.” There was no time to dwell on past injustices, especially when a chance to right some of them was before them. “Let’s see if we can run a search.” She began to type away at the keys, the screen coming to life with a green glow as words appeared with each keystroke.

>search

But on hitting the enter key, a blaring voice was heard as more words appeared on the screen.

ACCESS DENIED. DO NOT INQUIRE FURTHER.

Leon raised an eyebrow at the machine’s refusal. “It’s locking something that basic?” Yuffie huffed and resumed typing again. “How about just help?”

>help

NO. I DON’T THINK I WILL HELP YOU.

Ventus raised his eyebrows at the more blunt reply. “He sounds pretty grouchy.”

Naminé crossed her arms and sighed. “It’s a computer program. I’m not sure it can even be grouchy in the first place.” Even if it was designed well enough to mimic people, programs could only go so far in being personable. Just as she continued to have that nagging doubt that she could only go so far in being human.

Would the semblance of a heart she could find be good enough for him?

I AM MORE THAN A SIMPLE PROGRAM, USER

However, the unprompted comment from the machine brought her ponderin to a halt. It left Leon and Yuffie frozen with open jaws. Ventus just stepped forward, baffled at the outburst. “You can hear us? Who are you?”

I AM THE MASTER CONTROL PROGRAM. I OVERSEE THIS SYSTEM AND AS SUCH PREVENT UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS.

Leon rubbed his temple with one of his hands as he turned away from the screen. “Meaning us.”

Ventus walked towards the machine as he rubbed his chin. “You said he’s locking functions.” With a grin, he called his keyblade to his hand with a grin and held it up high. “Well, keyblades can undo any lock!” He wound back his arm, keyblade held high…

THAT ISN’T GOING TO DO YOU ANY GOOD. MY ADMINISTRATOR GUARDED ME AGAINST INTRUSION BY THE KEYBLADE.

Only to pause at the Master Control Program’s words. Naminé nodded grimly as she pieced together who could have done it. “Ansem. He was the only one who knew about keyblades in this world.”

“Well let’s see how much he knew!” Ventus twirled his weapon in a bit of flourish, pointed it at the screen and shouted aloud, “Search!”

Everyone watched the screen for any change.

And a second later, they saw a new answer.

ACCESS DENIED. AS I SAID.

One just as dismissive as before. Everyone groaned at the refusal, though Naminé put a hand on his shoulder with a smile, “It was a nice thought Ventus.”

YOU ARE VENTUS?

The question from the computer caused Ventus to blink before pointing to himself. “Er, yeah?”

PRIORITY TARGET CONFIRMED. COMMENCING IMMEDIATE DETAINMENT UNTIL RETRIEVAL.

Yuffie slammed her hands to the keyboard. “What?! Detainment?!”

BEGINNING EXPEDITED TRANSFER

Ventus took a step back from the computer as Leon put a hand to his gunblade. “How are you even going to keep us in one place?”

I THINK YOU’LL FIND THE GAME GRID IS MORE THAN SUFFICIENT

Yuffie scoffed at the Master Control Program’s boast. “Games? You want games—”

A flash of light interrupted her, and everyone saw the machinery in the back of the room glowing. “VEN! MOVE!” Naminé tried to push Ventus out of the way of whatever was coming. But she was an instant too slow. As soon as she touched his jacket, the machine fired a laser which struck all four of them.

She wasn’t sure exactly what was happening to Yuffie and Leon, but she saw what happened to Ven and felt it happen to her. Being broken up piece by piece.

Bit by bit.

Byte by byte.

The next thing she knew, she felt herself falling into the neon light.

“Okay, that’s weird.” Larxene wondered aloud as she raised an eyebrow at the now dead street lights. Every single one had powered down in unison, and the machinery repairing the main castle came to a stop. She jumped atop one of the wires, balancing on it with ease. Carefully, she leaned down and gripped the wire, trying to sense the current through the insulation. Faint as it was, there was still a trickle being pulled from whatever backup remained. Her eyes followed the electricity, all the way to the fort at the end of town. “What sort of science project are these bozos up to?”

She began to run along the wire, an electric spring in her step. But just as soon as she started, a smell on the wind caught her attention. A familiar scent of roses and rotting corpses, and she saw petals in the breeze. Immediately, she turned away from the fort to follow it. Because if she was seeing it, that only meant real trouble for her true agenda.

Sure enough, she spied a dark cloak down an alleyway fitting a familiar Body. Though someone else in the black cloak was there, it hardly mattered. Marluxia being here meant they needed to move now. Hopping down, she saw him pull down his hood. “Good to see you got my message.” His guest did the same, revealing Lexaeus had decided to join.

“if you’re here, then I assume that Castle Oblivion is either under control or out of control.” Larxene pointed a finger to Lexaeus and groaned, “And if this musclebound dolt has left his post, I’ll bank on the latter.”

“Zexion ousted me from my position as the head of Castle Oblivion. He redesigned the plan for Sora to revolve around his illusions as well as Vexen’s replicas.”

“Sounds reasonable so far. But I’m guessing that plan didn’t work.” “Hm. Either way, I’m surprised Book Boy had the guts to try and lead.”

“He did so with Xemnas’ backing.”

“What is more concerning is his behavior. I have known him for long enough to tell that his leadership went far beyond how he usually behaves. His illusionary power has also improved by leaps and bounds.”

Definitely not good. Zexion was forceful in any kind of science or intelligent work. But when it came to actually running a whole operation, he hardly had the expertise nor the constitution to manage members of the Organization. Still it was better to keep quiet about the concerns for now, so Larxene faked a small yawn and asked, “Why should we care?”

Lexeaus clenched his fists at his sides. “Because it leads credence to a scientific theory that I have dreaded being real.”

Larxene stifled a laugh as she walked towards Lexaeus with her hands on her hips. “A beefhead like you has scientific theories?”

Lexaeus snapped as he stomped forward, “As I was a prior research assistant to Ansem, yes I did. And it concerns everyone in the organization.” Larxene stepped back with her hands before her, though she maintained her smirk. Marluxia simply watched as Lexaeus placed his hand on his chest as he explained, “We nobodies are empty. Shells of what once was that persists on will alone.”

Marluxia nodded and moved to join Larxene’s side. “As we know. Your point?”

Lexaeus gripped his chest, grimacing as he continued, “If we are empty, then what can be put inside of us? Light, Darkness, Memories, Hearts?”

“The organization’s goal is to get our hearts back.” Marluxia recited the mission statement Xemnas had given again and again for Organization XIII. Granted, she and Marluxia were perfectly fine as they were. Hence their intended rebellion.

Lexaus looked them in the eye sternly and waved his hand to his side. “And what if we were given someone else's heart? Would we care about the difference?”

And that was the moment the pin dropped for her. Just as it did for Marluxia gauging from his wide eyed expression.

From what she could tell, all hearts were practically the same. Floating motes of shaped light, one just as worthless as the other. If they had no way to tell which was which. But if the giver knew, then they could make any Nobody into whoever they wanted to. And the Nobody would hardly be able to stop as everything they were was just overwritten.

What was this inside her?

Why did her stomach suddenly turn to burning lead even as the weather was cold? What was this like? She tried to recall if there was anything like this before she was a nobody. She hated trying to remember those days, but she couldn’t bear not knowing what this was!

There had to be something.

Anything!

And through the fog of time, one half remembered sensation surfaced.

Larxene was sick. And she couldn’t stand it.

She hissed at Lexaeus, “Why didn’t you tell anyone this theory till right now!?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Xemnas discouraged me years ago, saying only the mission was important. Without evidence I conceded the point.”

Marluxia swallowed a lump in his throat and asked, “Any plan on looking further into this?”

Turning towards the end of town, Lexaeus pointed to the structure in the distance. “We should look through the fort. It is where we conducted most of our research into the heart.”

Larxene hopped from wall to wall, reaching the rooftop. As she saw the entry to the fort, she saw a rather recognizable figure make his way up the steps. “Looks like Erxart’s got the same idea.” If the mystery rookie of the Organization was looking for answers there, this might end up working out for the three of them after all.

Ventus felt the ground at his back once he had come to. The metal ceiling was replaced with a strange sky, neon lights flickering up above. Looking around, there were buildings trimmed with glowing lines and circuits. He tried to push himself up from the ground, though it seemed a little difficult. A glance at his hand showed that it was clad in some kind of thin body armor he had never seen before, though it vaguely resembled his own clothes. Though the colors and even his skin seemed like a black and white photograph, with the exception of the blue circuits on his body.

And then he looked at his body, or rather, who was on it.

Even as he saw the color was gone from her face, she was still recognizable. as Naminé came to atop him, she groaned as she got her bearings. “Where are…Eep!” Only to squeak as she realized who she was lying on. She hurriedly pushed herself off Ventus and dusted herself off. “Sorry, didn’t mean to land—!”

“It’s okay! You were just trying to protect me.” Ventus chuckled as he got off the ground and nervously smiled at her, before nodding and mumbling, “Thanks for that.”

Though as he oriented himself, he realized that Naminé’s outfit had been similarly replaced with a bodysuit and light armor with circuitry. However, she seemed to have a small helmet over her head. As he slowly began to run his hand through his hair, he stopped once he felt a helmet of his own.

As Leon got to his feet alongside Yuffie he groaned,“Thank her once we figure out if we’re even safe.” The two of them also had been just as changed by whatever took them here, black and white bodies, neon circuitry on new clothes, and a helmet.

The four of them looked around the strange platform they were on, walkways leading out to other buildings trimmed with neon. Ventus took a step forward as he saw the vast, sprawling, alien landscape. “Is this what it’s like inside a computer?”

“Definitely a lot more interesting than the stuff Cid plays with,” Yuffie pondered as she crossed her arms and turned to the three of them. “Either way, this is pretty big for a prison.”

At Yuffie’s words, strange flashes of light appeared around them. Naminé sighed as she pulled out her sword and cards. “Spoke too soon.”

The digital light dispersed to reveal more strange creatures, but the symbol on their chest was unmistakable. “Heartless,” Ventus muttered as he called Lost Memories to his hand “Are they the welcoming committee?”

As everyone else pulled out their weapons against the heartless horde, there was one final flash of data. Except when it dispersed, it revealed a man in white armor with red circuits and a hood. He looked over the four of them and spoke sternly. “I am Commander Sark. You are to be seized by the authority of the Master Control Program. Resistance will result in de-resolution.” Ventus tightened his grip on his keyblade as Sark’s eyes fell on him. “The MCP has briefed me regarding you, Ventus. User or not, you are coming with me.”

Ventus held his keyblade up high and shouted, “You’re not taking me anywhere! Thunder!” In a flash, bolts of lightning struck the heartless gathering around them. Sark moved back from the electrical barrage, pulling a disk from his back. Once he was out of range, he wound back and sent the disk flying towards them.

“Flame!”

Only for one of Naminé’s spells to intercept it, sending the disk back towards Sark. With another card, she summoned a figment who began to strike at the gathered heartless along with Yuffie, Leon, and Ventus.

Sark scowled as the digital monsters began to fall. “So this is what a User can do. No matter.” He raised his hand and more flashes of data appeared, replenishing the lost troops. “Our forces far outnumber anything you are capable of.”

As Yuffie sent a Fuuma shuriken bouncing among the heartless, she backed up towards Naminé. “Maybe we should use Leviathan?”

The suggestion caused Naminé to pause, giving a heartless the chance to come close to her. Fortunately, a swing of her sword knocked it back as she shouted, “I don’t think we want to find out what happens to us if we create a lot of water in a computer!”

Squall slashed through a group of heartless, that were just as soon replaced and growled, “Well, we’ve got to make an opening somehow!”

“Get down!”

The voice was unfamiliar, but everyone but the heartless ducked on reflex. And no sooner had they done so, then a blue and white disk went sailing over their heads and towards Sark. He tried to hold up his disk to defend, but was a little too slow. It collided with him and knocked him to the ground. As he struggled to get to his feet, Sark growled, “Tron!? Now you show yourself?”

The blue disk was flying back over Ventus’ head towards another man in white and blue with a helmet.“For Users? Of course.” Tron then tossed his disk towards Sark again, but in a flash of data he vanished before the disk could hit.

With his departure, the heartless were at a loss, unsure how to proceed. And unfortunately for them, Ventus and his friends had gotten fairly good at taking down the heartless. Between Leon’s charged gunblade, Yuffie’s shuriken, and Ventus and Naminé’s keyblades, the monsters were taken down with ease.

With that taken care of, Tron jogged towards them. “We need to move quickly. If Sark gets back, he’ll be calling all the heartless he can on us.” Reaching to his side, three sticks materialized in Tron’s hand with a small spark. He took one, and held out the other two to the four of them. “I’ve only got three of these, so you’ll need to partner up.”

Leon took one of the rods, while Ventus held onto the other. “And what are these, exactly?”

Tron held the stick in front of him with both hands, and as he leaned forward, a sleek closed motorcycle appeared around him.

“Nice!” Yuffie cheered as she gripped onto Leon from behind. He simply sighed with a smile as he held out the staff as Tron did to create his own cycle.

Ventus put the stick in his pouch before holding out his keyblade. “I’ve got my own ride.” With a toss, he transformed the sword into its glider form. He hopped on and turned to Naminé, and began to hold his hand out to her and call out for her to come aboard.

Only for any words to die in his mouth as he realized how close they would be if she rode with them. His mind tried to calm him down, to make him realize they had done it before without any issues. Asking what was so different between her riding and going with any other friend. And his heart answered simply that she was more than a friend, leaving his brain at a bit of a loss.

Fortunately, the feeling of Naminé’s hand in his helped him to focus again. He saw her give a small smile as she quietly asked, “Shall we go?”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Ventus nodded as she pulled her aboard. “Y-Yeah, let’s head out.”

“Willing to wager your thoughts?”

Roxas didn’t react to Luxord’s words, he just continued to walk while muttering, “Just thinking about how complicated things have been getting lately.” And if the bizarre architecture of Wonderland was the least of Roxas’ concerns, that was saying something. Ever since that day in the Dwarf Woodlands, Roxas’ simple life had been thrown off the rails. What’s worse, he wasn’t even sure where he wanted to go in the first place.

The only thing he knew for sure was that his friends mattered. And now he might be seeing them a lot less.

But despite the hurricane of questions in his mind, Luxord simply continued to chat as he kept pace ahead of Roxas and began to twirl a card in his hands. “Complicated Indeed. Play by play, this game has grown in complexity as more players have taken seats.” He stopped and turned on his heel to face Roxas with a relaxed smirk. “Tell me, besides yourself which one would you bet on?”

Roxas might not understand everything that had been happening, but he did know who he could trust for sure. “Erxart. He’s pretty strong, and there’s a lot I don’t know about him.” Axel was a close second with his skill in spying on the traitors. But after a week of training and seeing what Erxart knew about the keyblade, Roxas was confident there was nobody stronger.

Luxord raised an eyebrow as he glanced at the card in his hand. “Truly? He is an interesting factor to be sure, but I confess it is Naminé that intrigues me.” With a flip of his fingers, he revealed the card to be a two. “At first glance a pawn, fortunate just to be close to the table.” As Luxord mused he flicked his wrist, the card moved from hand to hand. But as it stopped, Roxas saw the card was now a queen. “Yet she has had quite a string of luck, and taken advantage of that potential.”

Roxas raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Are you just saying that because she uses cards like you?”

Luxord chuckled and put away his card. “Not exactly like me, but I admit it is refreshing to see another who plays the game in such a way.” He turned back and began to walk through the mushroom forest. “Now enough idle chatter, we have our mission. Given the hearts we must procure, I believe we should split up.”

Roxas sighed, he didn’t like the suggestion. But given how hard it was to come by heartless in these woods, it was the best option to get today’s work done. Still, there was one major problem. “What are the odds that the unversed show up?”

Luxord looked back with a raised eyebrow. “A fair question, would you care to wager?”

Roxas sighed at the nonchalance. “Nah, I get a feeling I’d lose.” Again, Luxord cared more about his games than anything else.

The man simply continued on his way as he called back. “Prudence can be wise. But if you don’t play the game at all, nothing is gained.”

Roxas groaned as he continued on his own path. That was easy for Luxord to say, he knew what the game was half the time. Almost everyone else in the Organization seemed to know much more than he did. Even Axel had his little secrets. The only one who was straightforward with him was Erxart, but he was as new as Roxas was. Whatever the higher ups in the organization knew was being kept from both of them.

The sound of shadow gathering interrupted Roxas’ thoughts. Looks like it was time for him to get to work. It wasn’t a big group, some soldiers and a large body, but every heart counted. By now the soldiers barely even registered as a challenge for Roxas. A flurry of slashes and fire spells dispatched them with ease, a Firestorm built up as the last one vanished. With that, he turned to the larger heartless and used his improved speed and strength to dash around the heartless’ defenses before it could react. Flame infused strikes scorched the mass of shadows to nothing.

As Roxas felt the burning energy within still smoldering without a target in sight, he pondered aloud. “ Where am I going to find more heartless?”

But then from the bushes there was a chittering. The same chittering that he heard the other day when a new enemy attacked him from nowhere.

The unversed had arrived.

As the strange shadows flitted out from the underbrush, Roxas caught one with a scorching slash of his blade. The attack barely seemed to deter the other smaller unversed as they came to a stop before him. Feeling the power within reach its limits, Roxas unleashed the flame in a burst around him, disintegrating the creatures into specs of darkness.

Roxas grumbled at the sight. If these things were going to be attacking him, the least they could do is drop some hearts, right?

“Well, at least you’re as good as Ventus was.”

Roxas stepped back as he heard a voice sneering at him from above. Looking up towards the mushroom tops, he saw a boy in a red and black bodysuit about his size sitting on them. The boy looked down on him with a helmet that completely hid his face, one knee up as he leered at him, “Too bad Ventus was pretty pathetic.”

Roxas pointed his keyblade at the stranger. “One problem with that. You don’t know a thing about me.”

#My fanfiction #KH Fanfiction #Kingdom Hearts #fanfiction #fanfic #what if #runaway wind

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spacejvnky · 2 years

Note

(Aight, here’s the next part)

The party was almost perfect.. If Millie had been here, he felt like the party would be much better.

But unfortunately.. Her sudden rise of happiness had disappeared when she came home from school.

The entire family was here, and a majority of the town.

While Millie was out for a walk. But she’d be back eventually.

Sheri, Millie’s aunt came up to him, bringing someone with her.

“Sorry to spoil the party, Mayor.” Sheri teased. “But we have a newcomer in the town, she wants to talk to you about how the town works.”

He had never seen this woman before, she looked to be in her mid twenties, but everyone was welcome in this town.

“I am Abby, I hope that it’s not too much of an issue to want to have this meeting now.” She looked nervous and brushed her brown hair.

“Don’t worry ma’am, I will arrange a short meeting with you.” Mayor Fitzsimmons smiled, he gestured to her to follow him. They passed through the crowd of guests and family members, and upstairs towards his office. The mayor opened the double doors, and led Abby to his office.

“What’d you wanna talk about Miss Abby?” Mayor Fitzsimmons asked.

“Oh! Well..” She stuttered. “I just wanted to talk about how… the town works.. I suppose.” Abby looked around the office, taking in the scenery of it. It wasn’t anything too special, but there were some random cleaning surprises lying around.

“Well.. you could think of us like any other town.” Mayor Fitzsimmons stated. “We have mostly everything that all towns have, a bank, a market, the sheriff’s office, and.. the largest grave in the west…”

“What makes it so?” Abby questioned as she poked around his office.

“Criminals, Miss Abby, criminals..” Mayor Fitzsimmons growled. “Ever since they began causin’ more trouble than before, our grave grew to be the largest in this part of the country..” His tone was deep, but there were hints of sadness and sympathy in it.

“...I don’t suppose that makes this place a ghost town?” Abby asked, turning her attention to the mayor.

“Oh heavens, no!” Mayor Fitzsimmons chuckled back. “I mean, I’m as old as they come around these parts. Here, have a drink.” He reached into a cabinet and pulled out a large jug of water. “It’s something that I got from a yard sale a few weeks ago.”

“Water?” Abby asked, wondering what made this jar of water so special.

“Vintage rainwater, from the great deluge.” Mayor Fitzsimmons responded. “Of course, not Noah’s great deluge.” He chuckled at the thought. “I mean, I’m not that old.”

Abby seemed surprised, a flood hadn’t raged through the west in years.. “Speaking of which…” Abby began, “how does this town get through all the crime?” Back in her childhood, a severe lack of water always was a problem with her father’s saloon.

Not that she really cared for this town, anyway. She just needed something to continue the conversation..

Mayor Fitzsimmons thought about it for a moment, then walked to a window that overlooked the entire town.

Giving Abby enough time to put a little something in his drink..

“Come and see for yourself.” Mayor Fitzsimmons said.

Abby walked over to look at the view. There wasn’t much to see, besides the town and such. There were a few businesses open, and there were some people walking around in the darkness. ..She could also barely make out the shape of someone entering the house garage, two figures at the front door, and a third figure sneaking to the back of the house.

It was all coming together.

“You see all the people out there, Miss Abby?” Mayor Fitzsimmons asked. “All my friends?”

Abby nodded, making out the shapes of more people walking through the darkness.

“Ever since crime began to rise, everyone has been on edge and afraid. But they still persist.” Mayor Fitzsimmons turned to look at her. “And do you know how they make it through these strange times?”

“...looking at the bright side?” Abby asked.

“Yes, in a way.” Mayor Fitzsimmons turned back to look at his town. “They believe that tomorrow will be better than today, not just for them, but the entire west. They believe that crime will stop, and those responsible for said crime will be held accountable.”

“..who do they think will stop the criminals?” Abby asked him.

“...the future of the west.” Mayor Fitzsimmons stated.

“..what does that mean?” Abby raised an eyebrow at him.

“The law.” Mayor Fitzsimmons finished, he turned around and walked back into his office. “One day, the law of the west will do what it was always meant to do.”

“Are the people willing to wait..?” Abby followed him inside and picked up her drink, which was clearer than Mayor Fitzsimmmons’ drink.

Mayor Fitzsimmons chuckled. “You sound like my granddaughter. She always questioned my words.” He sighed sadly, and held his drink in his hand.

..she needed to make him declare a toast.

“I hate to get into personal.. Situations..” Abby started. “But why does she question your words?”

“...her parents were killed when they returned from a trip.” Mayor Fitzsimmons replied sadly.

Abby knew what that was like. “..what happened?” She needed to stall to make a toast.

He looked down at the floor and said, “They were killed by Deja Vu.”

A wave of shock ran through Abby, but.. It certainly explained a lot..

No wonder Sammy agreed with the plan..

But what did they ever do to him?

‘No, stick to the plan.’ She thought to herself.

“I had to take up the title of mayor in my son’s name..” Mayor Fitzsimmons continued. “I was just a collector back then.. But I had to honor him by taking a stand and looking over this town.” He looked back to the window.

Now.

“Well… we should toast!” Abby exclaimed, with the slightest hint of nervousness.

“Toast?” Mayor Fitzsimmons asked.

“To.. you!” She said, “I know what it feels like to follow in the footsteps of a family member.” She held out her glass of water to him. “And you’re doing amazing!”

Mayor Fitzsimmons beamed. “Thank you, Miss Abby..”

Their glasses clinked against one another.

And the two took a sip.

is abby who i think it is omg i’m fuckindvhdbd

i’m gonna give these a graphic novel adaptation bro i’m so fuckinjdbdhbdjdndbdhbd

#im literally on the edge of my fukcin seat #ask #fnaf #cowbot au

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n0bamak1s · 3 years

Text

clueless - maki zenin x reader

request: “I was thinking Maki Zenin x Fem reader where y/n is really intimidated by Maki and has avoided her since they first met each other. Despite that, they both have feelings for each other and after a while Maki gets annoyed with y/n and confronts her to figure out why she keeps avoiding Maki. And then the reader accidentally confesses and says something like “how could I not feel intimidated by someone so hot!?”” - @wh0legrain

summary: it’s difficult for you to read maki’s intent when she tries to become more approachable to you, which throws of your plan of trying to avoid her at all costs. alternatively titled: maki zenin is terrible at flirting (genre: fluff, attempt at humor, idiots to lovers)

warnings: like one or two swear words, mentions of bruises/scrapes from training

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i honestly had so much fun with the dynamic between maki and reader here! i love the idea that maki would have no idea how to flirt lmao

“don’t look now, but she’s looking at you again.” panda, your current sparring partner, peered at her over your shoulder as you got into a fighting position. of course, out of curiosity you immediately turned around, and unluckily for your own ego, you made direct eye contact with maki. she seemed to have no intent of backing down from your impromptu staring contest, intense black eyes remaining on you, and had you not been so focused on trying to figure out what had caused this sudden interest in you, you’d have noticed the amused glint in her eyes.

did she really have no shame in being caught staring at you?

before giving yourself any more time to process her expression, you whipped your head back around to face panda. at least you were able to take note of the amusement on his face.

“i don’t get why she keeps glaring at me.” you huffed annoyedly, still feeling her gaze burn into the back of your head. shouldn’t she be busy sparring with inumaki? “if it’s about that one time i borrowed her uniform skirt because mine was in the wash, she should be more mad about inumaki and gojo taking it every time she’s on a mission to try it on.”

panda had a shocked expression on his face, as if to ask why the hell you knew about the boys prancing around in the girl’s skirts whenever the opportunity arose, but it was quickly wiped off to be replaced by a knowing sort of smile.

“no, i doubt that’s why.” his voice rang with the sing-songy sound of knowing something you didn’t, but you simply chose to raise an annoyed eyebrow at his annoying little game rather than question him.

even as you ran at him, fists raised defensively, you swore you could still feel a pair of sleek eyes trailing your movements. you slid to dodge panda’s swing at you, leaving a layer of dirt on the hem of your shorts. despite succeeding in avoiding sparring with maki, which admittedly sounded absolutely brutal, you felt extremely ungrateful for panda’s strength as he lifted you up by the wrist. somehow he managed to end up with you flipped onto your back, despite your best efforts to sweep his legs out from under him. if losing to a literal panda in a fight wasn’t embarrassing enough, it didn’t help that this was the moment maki had decided to suddenly start paying attention to you, a fact you became acutely aware of as she hovered over you, her figure shadowed by the sun behind you.

“you okay?” she cocked an eyebrow, extending a hand to pull you to your feet, making you suddenly conscious of how her legs were positioned on either side of you, so you laid beneath her. when you were unable to sputter out a response, she sighed softly, leaning down so she knelt with her knees resting on the dirt on either side of your thighs. a hand waves in front of your face, and makis brows furrow slightly. “did you hit your head or something because of that idiot?” she cocked a thumb at your sparring partner.

something about her sudden proximity seemed to shock you out of your distracted daze, making you push yourself up so you held yourself by palms flat on the ground. taking note of how close your face was to hers, the corners of her mouth turned up in a smirk, her lips parting slightly to show her teeth. you weren’t even sure if she was aware of the fact that she was smiling right now, or the effect she was having on your already embarrassed state as she leaned over you, her figure shadowing yours.

why was she so intent on making fun of you?

“i’m fine!” you managed to blurt out, pulling your knees close to you to escape the compromising position she’d put the both of you in.

her eyes remained playfully narrowed and her lips turned up, but as she opened her mouth to say something, you practically sprung up from the ground as if you weren’t bruised and tired from fighting, turning on your heel to go back to panda. you flashed an awkwardly apologetic smile, before shrouding yourself in panda’s shadow.

you found yourself grateful for the shadow panda cast on you, as it shielded your eyes from the sun, and the glare you knew was inevitably resting behind maki’s glasses.

the four of you remained sparring until the first glimpse of heavy gray clouds masqueraded the blistering sun. you helped panda up from where he’d laid on the ground, spotting out of the corner of your eye none other than gojo, who looked almost comical inspecting the state of the sky with his usual dopey smile while still adorning his iconic blindfold. had you not known any better, you’d say he looked like a complete idiot.

on the other hand, maki, who did know better, seemed to have no problem stating that he did, in fact, look like a complete idiot.

“so are you just gonna stand there all day, moron? or do you actually have something important to say for once.” maki crossed her arms over her chest, making her jacket taut over her muscles, catching your attention for the briefest of moments. you quickly averted your eyes back to gojo in hopes of not being caught staring as she had earlier, as if you were a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. though you couldn’t see gojos eyes, you could sense a sort of mischief from him as he smiled at you. was today just some weird holiday where people stared at you for no reason that no one had informed you about?

“you guys seem to have the sky on your side today.” gojo smiled widely as his gaze flickered between the four of you lined up in front of him. “since it seems to be about to rain, you guys can get off a little early today, just go clean up in the bathrooms if you need to.” he waved his hands at you all, in a motion that seemed to be shooing you away.

you begin to feel the beginnings of drizzling rain hitting the tip of your nose, and the top of your head, and take that as your cue to leave. letting out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in, you unzipped and shrugged off your hoodie, throwing it over your shoulder as you turned towards the heavy doors of the school building. you’d only gotten a couple steps closer than you’d been before you heard the familiar sound of your name, called from the less familiar source that was maki zenin.

“wait up!” she called, taking long strides to catch up to you. “if we’re cleaning up now, i’ll come with you and i can help you if you got scraped or anything.” her hand rubbed the back of her neck, and a soft smile cracked onto her lips, egging you on to respond.

you furrowed your brows slightly. she had never bothered to help you out like this before, so what made it different. “i think i’ll be fine.” you hoped your embarrassment at the idea of the situation didn’t show on your face.

“tch, it’s not like i’m planning to kill you in there or anything.” honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if she had been. “it’ll just be weird if we’re both patching ourselves up in silence when there’s clearly a more efficient way to do it.”

screw her for always being correct.

you nodded your head in agreement in a way that was comically defeated. she motioned for you to follow her, and so you trailed behind her like a lost puppy.

though you had no way to prove it, you could’ve sworn that gojo winked at you from underneath his blindfold as you passed him.

the two of you walked in silence that seemed comfortable for you, but maki seemed clearly impatient.

“i wanted to check on you and ask if you were alright.” she broke the silence, pulling off her rain stained glasses to wipe them on the edge of her shorts. “you seemed really frazzled earlier, so if you hit your head or something we can take you to shoko, i wouldn’t want you to get seriously hurt or something.”

you were somewhat surprised by her words, but feigned indifference as you smiled reassuringly. “i’m fine, was just kinda lost in my thoughts earlier. guess you kinda just caught me off guard.” you were telling the truth, so why did it feel as if you were lying straight through your teeth?

as she swung open the girls bathroom door, she gave you an incredulous look, as if she was trying to recall the events of the day that could have made you so tense. you hoisted yourself up to sit on the sink, leaning back with a sigh of relief from finally relaxing your muscles. maki grabbed the small first aid kit, positioning herself to stand between your legs,a position that was oddly reminiscent of when you’d been on the field earlier. she caught your wrist in your hand, causing you to jump slightly as her eyes scanned your forearm, riddled with some bruises from training, but nothing that really needed cleaning.

“what could i have possibly done to catch you off guard?” her words sounded concerned, but contrasted the teasing smile playing at her lips. under the fluorescent lights, you could make out the flush tinted on her cheeks from being outside all day, as if she’d been kissed by the sun herself.

suddenly you felt very shy, twiddling with your thumbs in your lap, and willing your eyes anywhere but where they’d meet maki’s. to her, your current flustered state was an amusing contrast to how you were when fighting curses, your usual confident and strong willed demeanor had been replaced with the attitude of a bashful school girl. still, you knew you’d have to be confrontational in this moment.

“please stop teasing me, maki.” you looked her dead in the eyes, wiping the amusement from her face, and swapping it with a mixture of shock and worry.

“i’m not making fun of you.” she shook her head, her already pink dusted cheeks turning more red. “what makes you think I am?”

you chucked humourlessly. “well if the glaring at me wasn’t enough, you seem to keep trying to embarrass me. if it’s because of that time i borrowed your skirt without telling you, i really am sorry, but stop trying to make fun of me.”

“when did you borrow my skirt? i always just assume it’s the boys being idiots. you can borrow my skirt anytime you want.” you wished you could be mad at her for her nonchalance. “besides, YOU’RE the one who’s always avoiding me, panda told me i should try to be more approachable, so i thought eye contact might help.” she shrugged exasperatedly, placing her hands flat on sink, resting on either side of your thighs.

“well, you don’t exactly have the most approachable face when you’re making ‘eye contact.’ you had me thinking you were plotting my downfall in your head or something.” she stifled a laugh at your overdramatization. “it was totally intimidating.”

“oh?” her smile was dopey, one that only you would be flustered by. “does that mean i make you nervous?” her voice was hushed as she tilted her head downwards toward you, looking satisfied with herself.

“well you’re gonna make anyone nervous if you’re sending them death glares one second and offering to clean their wounds the next.”

her only response was a laugh as she buried her face in her hands. it wasn’t a mean laugh, not one directed at you, more so just her laughing at what idiots the both of you were being.

“you really thought i hated you?” her words were spaced apart by involuntary giggles, her mouth was stretched into a wide grin, almost like one from gojo. “man, i thought i was so obvious!” she turned to hoist herself next to you on the sink, leaning her head on your shoulder as her whole body shook from laughter.

you said nothing in response, just processing if this moment was real. you’d hardly seen maki smile before today, let alone laugh.

“you mean to tell me you’ve spent all this time avoiding me because you thought i hated you?” admittedly, when she repeated it back to you after her outburst of laughter, it did sound rather ridiculous. but to be fair, she should’ve considered the possibility before her sorry attempt to be more approachable.

“it’s not my fault you scare the crap out of me, i mean, how could i not be intimidated by someone so hot!” your mouth moves faster than your brain, and she lifts her head from your shoulder, making you hyper aware of both your words and your sudden proximity to her face.

shit.

your eyes are wide as saucers as you stare at her, convinced that, like a dinosaur, if you don’t move, she won’t even notice you’re there. much to your dread, she smiles yet again (seriously, today alone make up a solid 90% of the times you’d ever seen her smile.)

“you’re such a dumbass, you know?” you can hear the laughter threatening to bubble up in her voice. you wish you could come up with a clever comeback, but you just stared back, moth gaping like a fish out of water. “the reason i was asking panda for advice was because i like you. in hindsight, i suppose he’s probably not the most reliable when it comes to relationship advice.”

“all you really got out of following his advice was making a fool out of me.” you looked down at your feet. “but i guess i kind of did that myself anyways.”

“don’t beat yourself up about it. it’s cute.” she leaned forward so she was in your peripheral, willing you to look at her. “plus if you weren’t such an idiot, i’d have to keep sending you ‘death glares’, as you like to call them, to get your attention.” she chuckled, and you lifted your hand to shove her playfully, before she caught your wrist effortlessly, tugging slightly so you could feel her breath fan on your face.

once again, your mouth moved before you had time to think. “maki...can i kiss you?” you’d taken note of how her eyes darted between your eyes and your lips.

it was her turn to be bashful now. she nodded slowly, her eyes half lidded, as she dared to close the small amount of distance between the both of you. without second thought, you press your lips to hers tenderly, letting your arms loop around her neck, hands meeting between her shoulder blades. her eyelashes tickle your face as they flutter closed, with her hands balancing her, palms flat on the sink counter. the pitter pattering sound of rain from outside echoed in you ears.

the kiss is messy and awkward, but in that moment, you felt on top of the world, smiling into it without a care in the world as your fingers played with the ends of her ponytail. you break away reluctantly for air, taking in the dopey smile on her face, and the way her hands reached to grab yours to hold in her own, rubbing small circles in the back of your hand with her calloused thumb. her breathing is soft and steady, clearly still readjusting after your kiss. wordlessly, she leans forward to rest her head on your shoulder, so you can feel her breath hit the crook of your neck, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“thank god you’re such an idiot.”

#maki zenin x reader #maki zenin x you #maki x reader #zenin maki x reader #maki zenin x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk imagines #maki zenin imagine #maki zenin #zenin maki

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xjoonchildx · 3 years

Text

greedy | myg x reader | chapter five: do we look like recruiters to you?

summary: being a loner has never bothered yoongi until now. until you.

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 6.7K

notes: thank you all so much for rolling with the changes to my posting schedule. it’s been a while since i posted an update and i really wanted to give you guys a chapter. plus it makes more sense, in my mind to break it out like this. in this chapter, you’ll notice that ko starts calling OC “jagiya.” thank you to the korean reader who brought to my attention that my previous nickname for her didn’t fit as well as this one!

anyway, you guys make me endlessly happy with your feedback on this story. i’d love to hear what you think of this chapter. beta read by @hobi-gif because i would wither away without her analysis. also beta’d by the awesome @btsarmy9593 who has been so awesome to give me her feedback. thank you to @augustbutwinter for the words of encouragement. and of course, the boos @ladyartemesia and @untaemedqueen pitched in to help me in this journey as well.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

*************************

Min Yoongi wakes up with a problem. Well a few problems, actually.

The first is that he has to pee.

The second is the head-to-toe pain that starts to register the moment his sluggish brain kicks into gear. He starts from the bottom -- gingerly wiggling his toes, carefully stretching his legs -- and slowly works his way up, taking mental inventory of what hurts and what doesn’t.

A lot of shit is landing on the hurts list right now.

The third problem -- and perhaps the most pressing -- is the problem pressing into his side right now.

Your hair is still damp.

Yoongi noses into it and lies in the quiet for a while, breathing you in while you sleep. You smell like his shampoo and his soap. You’re wearing his t-shirt and basketball shorts. You are covered in him; fitted to him. Solid and warm and real.

Which brings him to his next problem.

This is the kind of feeling that’s way too easy to become addicted to. The kind of feeling that makes you do stupid shit. Take away the mangled body and the looming safety concerns and this is easily the best morning of his life.

That’s why when you stir and burrow a bit deeper into his side, Yoongi ignores the pain radiating from his sore ribs. He ignores the way his arm has fallen asleep under you, ignores the intermittent buzzing of his phone from the nightstand warning of missed texts.

He ignores the tiny voice in his head that says don’t get attached to this feeling.

Yoongi ignores everything but you and this because right now, it’s the only thing he wants to think about.

And then he’s drifting off again.

***************************

This time, Yoongi wakes up alone.

The deep steadying breath he takes while he’s trying to work up the nerve to get out of bed hurts like hell.

Everything hurts like hell, actually -- the back of his head where he can feel scrapes left behind by the brick wall, his jaw from where he took that driller to the face. His knee from where he jammed it into that fucking goon’s stomach.

But his shoulder is what’s really fucking everything up right now.

He can’t remember telling you where to find the sling or how you got it on. Can’t remember you positioning his pillows around his injured arm or slipping into bed beside him. He’d been so fucked up by the pain and the adrenaline withdrawal that he’s pretty sure he blacked out at some point.

So Yoongi lies there for a minute, trying to piece together what he can remember of last night.

The memories come back to him blurred and disjointed, out of order.

He remembers feeling like he might vomit when you shoved his shoulder back into place. Awkwardly accepting your help taking off his jeans so he could shower. Nearly falling to his knees under the hot water. Pulling himself together long enough to stash his gun in a drawer when you’d stepped away.

And it’s that last memory that makes his chest go tight.

Last night, hiding his gun seemed like the right thing to do. A way to keep you separate from the ugliness he normalized a long time ago. But this morning the half-assed lie of omission makes him feel guilty as hell. A pathetic attempt to delay the inevitable. Chewing gum jammed into the crack of a dam.

He has to tell you about that gun.

So he gets to work on dragging his ass out of bed. It takes him way too damned long to sit upright, way too damned long to slide himself off the edge of the mattress. Longer than that to slowly limp his way into the bathroom where he pees for what feels like a solid ten minutes.

He’s still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he spots the bright red toothbrush sitting in the cup on his sink.

It’s just some cheap throwaway he brought home after his last visit to the dentist -- a long-forgotten backup that’s been stashed in the cabinet under the bathroom counter for months. But now it’s sitting out in the open, in that cup. Right next to his own blue one.

Yoongi stares at it and scrubs a hand over his face.

And that tiny voice in his head gets a bit louder.

************************

He finds you seated at his piano, bare-faced and hair tousled. Fingers tracing light patterns across the keys of his custom instrument, gaze taking in all of the tiny details he paid a small fortune for.

He could have stayed there for a while, just appreciating the view had you not caught him staring.

Your dark eyes flick up to find his and Yoongi’s pulse quickens at the warmth in them. At the soft, shy smile that comes over you just before you clear your throat and lower your eyes back to the keys.

“Beautiful,” you sigh.

No kidding, Yoongi thinks.

He crosses the room slowly. Tries his hardest not to limp but the throb in his knee makes that nearly impossible. Sadness flashes across your face as you watch him sink heavily onto the bench beside you.

“I can help you, you know,” you admonish softly.

Yoongi shrugs, motioning to the sling. “You already have.”

He stills when you reach one hand out to brush your fingertips across the redness on his jaw. You stroke your thumb across his aching cheek and Yoongi leans into the touch, savoring the feeling of your skin against his.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, “I’m so sorry you’re hurt, and -- ” you pause to shake your head sadly, “-- and I’m so sorry it’s because I put you in this position.”

Yoongi sucks in a deep breath.

He can’t bring himself to tell you that he can’t think straight when he imagines what could have happened if that fucking goon had gotten you alone. Can’t bring himself to admit out loud that he could have pulled his gun and ended that piece of shit without losing a second of sleep.

Would have, had you not been there.

“Better me than you, Doc,” he says thickly. “You made the right call.”

You press a gentle kiss to his throbbing jaw.

“You still mad at me?”

You whisper the words into the shell of Yoongi’s ear and a slow heat builds in his gut.

“Yeah,” he lies, dropping a kiss on the delicate skin below your jaw. He ghosts the tip of his nose against the curve of your neck and you shudder under his touch. He’s forced to check himself, leaning back for a few inches of badly-needed space.

On the bright side, at least his dick isn’t broken, too.

He clears his throat. “If that guy had brought backup -- ”

“ -- If that guy had brought backup, he’d have been out of the car long before you left his buddy in a pile on the floor,” you interrupt gently.

Yoongi chuckles. “Just admit you’re terrible at following directions.”

“You happen to have your MRI results around here anywhere? I’d be interested to see what they say about that shoulder.”

You raise one brow when Yoongi narrows his eyes at you in response. “No? Well, then I guess I’m not the only one who’s bad at following directions.”

“Guess not,” Yoongi admits with a smile.

Your turn your attention back to his piano, touch reverent as you slide one hand across the rich black lacquer.

“When you first walked in, I was going to say something really dumb like do you play?” you admit with a laugh. “But no one owns something this magnificent unless they have a passion for it.”

“Yeah, I play,” Yoongi murmurs. “When I have two functioning arms.”

He’d intended to earn a laugh with that tease, but the joke falls flat. Sadness creeps back into your features.

“Yoongi,” you say quietly, gaze dropping into your lap. “I honestly don’t know what would have happened to me last night without you. And all I can think about this morning is why? Why did you do this for me?”

Fuck, that’s a loaded question.

If Yoongi had the balls, he’d tell you straight up that he fell for you the moment he laid eyes on you at Songdo . That you feel like his chance at something more. But Yoongi doesn’t say any of that.

Instead, he coughs up a weak white lie.

“We’re both out here flying solo Doc. We have to look out for each other. Besides -- ” he tips your chin up with a gentle press of his fingers and finds your dark eyes glassy with unshed tears. “ -- I have a thing for that smart mouth of yours.”

He earns a tiny smile from you then, just the slightest curve of your lips. And he’s this close to kissing the soft, sad expression right off your face when that voice in his mind fucks everything up again.

Tell her about the gun.

The thought is like a bucket of cold water over his head, jarring him from the intimacy of this moment. Yoongi swallows thickly before opening his mouth to tell you the truth. But before he can speak, you do.

“I have something of yours,” you say, reaching into the pocket of your borrowed basketball shorts. Yoongi watches you produce a worn handmade bracelet and holds his palm open to accept it. “It fell out of your jacket last night,” you explain.

He rubs his thumb over the smooth metal corners of the cross that dangles from aged leather. It brings back the memory of his baptism -- of the day Mrs. Bak proudly gifted it to him while he was still damp from the ceremony. It also brings back the memory of last night -- when he’d clutched it between his fingers and sent a silent plea for protection skyward.

It’s been a long time since he’s prayed. It’s been a long time since he had anything to pray for.

“Are you religious?” you ask softly.

Yoongi shakes his head. “Honestly? I don’t know.” A self-conscious heat creeps up his neck. “Just makes me feel better, I guess. Is that dumb?”

“No,” you reassure quietly, bringing one warm hand up to cup his cheek. Yoongi covers your hand with his, laces his fingers in between yours. “Not dumb at all.”

Tell her about the gun.

“Doc,” Yoongi whispers thickly, “We need to talk about something.”

Your hand falls away from his face and your spine goes stiff with tension and Yoongi almost loses his nerve.

Almost.

“Okay, so I was, uh -- carrying a gun last night,” he starts, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck, “I carry a gun all the time, actually. I hid it because I didn’t want to freak you out.”

You say nothing, expression unreadable. And Yoongi keeps talking.

“But I don’t want to keep things from you,” he says quietly. “I want you to know exactly who I am. No half-truths.”

Your eyes drop back down to the piano. You pluck at one of the keys and a somber note rings out, lingers in the air between you before you speak.

“You have a gunshot wound in your back, Yoongi,” you murmur. “It’s not exactly a leap of logic. Besides, I already saw your gun. It was in your drawer last night when I got you a change of clothes.”

Yoongi nods slowly, processing the fact that you’d discovered the gleaming silver piece and hadn’t written him off right away. You’d still slept in the crook of his arm last night. You’re still here right now.

“And yeah, maybe it does freak me out a bit,” you admit. “But after what I saw last night, maybe I can understand a bit, too.”

Yoongi lets go of the breath he’s been holding and takes your hand in his. Maybe is as good as he could have hoped for at this point. Maybe is not a dead end.

“I have something to tell you, too,” you admit after a moment. “I’m due at the hospital in a few hours.”

“Doc,” Yoongi groans, hand tightening reflexively around yours. “You can’t go back there.”

“I don’t have a choice,” you insist, pulling away. “This isn’t just some job I fell into, Yoongi. This is years of my life.”

Yoongi is quiet for a few seconds, willing his rising agitation to subside. He’s careful to check his tone before he speaks.

“You’re not safe there.”

“I have to go back. I don’t have a choice,” you repeat. “I can’t afford to get blacklisted and Lee is still my boss. And if he’s already got wind of what happened last night, he’s going to be gunning for me even harder than he already has been. I have to tread carefully.”

Yoongi shoves a hand through his hair.

“You have to meet me in the middle here, Doc,” he exhales. “There’s got to be something halfway between you walking right back into that hellhole and you losing your job. Take a couple of sick days. Give me some time to figure out who your boss is working with and what I can do about it. Can you do that?”

You’re quiet for a moment as you consider his proposal.

“Yeah,” you concede softly. “I can do that.”

You lift a hand to brush a lock of hair out of his face and press your mouth to his.

Every cell in Yoongi’s body stands at attention. He cards his fingers into the soft mass of your hair and kisses you slowly -- carefully -- all too aware of the way he’d manhandled you last night.

Not even the pain in his jaw could take away from how good it feels to touch you like this. Not even the ache in his ribs could stop him from leaning into you. He slips his tongue past your lips and you whimper, fingers curling into his sore knee.

He could not give a shit.

Yoongi leaves your mouth to trail kisses down your jaw, and you tip your head back, offering him the soft expanse of your neck. He accepts it gladly, mouth hot and open on your skin, savoring your scent and taste -- enjoying the way he can feel your pulse fluttering wildly under his lips.

He’s enjoying it all so much that he gets careless. The elbow of his injured arm connects with the sharp edge of the piano and he recoils instantly.

“Dammit,” he groans. “Fuck.”

“Oh, shit,” you gasp, clapping a hand over your mouth.

The pain is so potent it seems to radiate all the way from his arm to his temples. Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut as he waits for the ringing in his ears to subside.

“Yoongi, your shoulder, it's -- it’s really bad,” you admonish quietly. “If you keep going like this, the damage is going to be permanent.”

“Trust me, I know,” he sighs. “I’m going to get this looked at, I just haven’t.”

“I want you to see a friend of mine at Asan today,” you urge. “He’s a good doctor. He can get you some pain relief. Get you back to working condition.”

Yoongi nods weakly, pain still ebbing from his arm.

“But it’s not a substitute for an MRI and it’s not a substitute for surgery,” you warn. “This is just a temporary fix. You have to be careful. Whatever you’re planning, just please be careful.”

Yoongi skates the pad of his thumb over your lips before kissing you just one more time.

“Don’t worry about me, Doc,” he murmurs. “I’m going to have some help.”

**************************

It’s amazing what a pair of high-powered steroid shots and a bottle of industrial-strength painkillers can do for a guy.

Yoongi pulls into the parking lot at Maekju feeling almost human again.

If the text messages that have been blowing up his phone all afternoon are any indication, everyone is here tonight. Everyone with the exception of Namjoon, of course. He doesn’t drink anymore and even when he did, he always preferred to drink alone.

Jungkook is the first person Yoongi spots, leaned up against a pool table, beer in hand. He’s watching Jimin and Taehyung face off at billiards while Seokjin and Hoseok sit side-by-side at the bar, deep in conversation.

The maknae’s eyes go a bit wide when he takes in Yoongi’s unusual gait and immobilized arm.

“Holy shit, hyung,” he breathes as Yoongi approaches. “What the hell happened to you?”

Seokjin whips around in his barstool at the sound of Jungkook’s greeting, but Hoseok doesn’t take the bait. He stiffens in his seat but refuses to turn around. Stubborn bastard.

“Yoga accident,” Yoongi mutters, stepping up to the bar next to Seokjin. The older man smirks as he takes a long pull of his beer.

“How’d you drive with that thing on?” Seokjin asks, motioning to Yoongi’s sling.

“Carefully,” Yoongi says dryly. “Listen, can you give me a minute with Jung here?”

Seokjin’s critical gaze bounces back and forth between Yoongi and Hoseok, who is still resolutely pretending not to notice the conversation taking place just inches from his face. He stares into a television mounted high above the bar and sips his whiskey with feigned indifference.

“You two need couple’s counseling, I swear,” Seokjin groans, rolling his eyes. He stands to his feet to relinquish his barstool and claps a hand over Yoongi’s good shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Hoseok, the fucking infant, grabs a newspaper abandoned on the bartop and proceeds to pretend to read it. Yoongi slides into the stool next to him anyway.

“Miss me?”

Hoseok doesn’t answer.

“You’re not gonna say hello? Not gonna ask me why it looks like I spent all night falling off a cliff?”

“Nope.”

Yoongi waves off the bartender who starts walking in his direction. The last thing he needs is a drink. He’s got so many painkillers in his system right now that one sip of booze would probably have him under the bar in seconds.

“Come on Hoseok,” Yoongi sighs. “Don’t be a dick. I’ve literally never seen you read a newspaper.”

“I like to stay informed,” Hoseok shrugs.

“Well, I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Oh, so you talk to me now?” Hoseok snickers. “That’s new.”

Hoseok’s probably earned the right to his petulance, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying. Yoongi starts to reconsider that drink.

“Jung,” he groans. “I’m trying to apologize here.”

“So apologize then.”

“Fine,” Yoongi mutters. “I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole lately. I’ve been twisted up over some shit that has nothing to do with you or family business.”

Hoseok grabs his whiskey off the bar and finally -- finally -- pivots to face him.

“A giant asshole,” he corrects dryly.

“Yes. A giant asshole,” Yoongi repeats. “We good now?”

Hoseok sips his whiskey slowly, eyes narrowed at Yoongi over the lip of his glass.

“Buy me a drink.”

“Fine,” Yoongi hisses, flagging the bartender.

Hoseok leans back in his barstool, looking a bit smug.

“Now this shit you’ve been twisted up about,” he starts, brow cocked. “Would this have anything to do with your secret doctor friend?”

“Maybe,” Yoongi admits, scratching at the back of his neck. His injured shoulder is tired from carrying the extra weight of the sling. He rolls it gingerly as Hoseok looks on.

“Would this have anything to do with why you look like you got jumped on your way in here tonight?”

Yoongi’s cheeks warm at his partner’s blunt observation. “Maybe.”

Hoseok drains his whiskey just as the bartender arrives with a fresh one. He takes a long drink before setting his glass back down on the bar. His lips purse thoughtfully as he levels Yoongi with a long, assessing look.

“Okay,” he says calmly. “So who do we have to go fuck up?”

**************************

Dr. Lee Geon just looks like a fucking weasel.

Yoongi glares at the man as he strolls into the coffee shop a few blocks from Songdo with just minutes to spare to his shift.

Lee bears little resemblance to his photos on the hospital website.

He’s thin -- just this side of gaunt -- hollow cheeks prominent below dark under eyes beneath a sparse dusting of greasy hair. Were he not dressed in a rumpled lab coat and equally creased scrubs, Yoongi might have missed him entirely.

Across the room, Hoseok peers at Yoongi over the top of yet another borrowed newspaper -- is this the guy? -- and Yoongi answers with a furtive nod.

He goes over the plan they’d worked out in the car in his head. They’d find the guy -- make sure he was the guy -- and then follow him out of the shop. Catch him just before he got into his car. Shake him up a bit before shaking him down for information.

There’s one thing Yoongi still hasn’t worked out, though.

Just how much he’s going to allow himself to hurt this asshole before sending him on his way. Lee slowly shuffles his way to the front of the line as Yoongi imagines jamming his fist into the man’s stupid fucking face. Imagines doing it over and over again until the piece of shit is unrecognizable.

Yoongi watches Lee order his drink as he kneads at the tender muscles of his shoulder.

Ditching the sling was probably a bad idea -- definitely against doctor’s orders -- but it was a risk he was more than willing to take. He’d downed a couple of painkillers and shoved his shoulder into a brace and decided he could deal with the dull throb just for the night.

No way in hell he was going to confront this scumbag looking like some kid who just fell off his skateboard.

It doesn’t take long for the barista to put together Lee’s drink. He grabs his coffee and Yoongi tenses in anticipation of his next move. But instead of heading for the exit, Lee heads for the bathroom instead.

Yoongi locks eyes with Hoseok across the room and Hoseok raises one brow.

Change of plans?

Yoongi nods.

*****************************

Lee’s coffee sits abandoned atop the sink ledge.

Yoongi and Hoseok slip silently into the bathroom and get right to work. Hoseok blocks the door as Yoongi quietly creeps past the stalls, ducking his head to peer beneath each one. Lee’s scuffed sneakers are the only pair of shoes he spots.

His ears pick up on a faint sound coming from inside the locked stall.

It’s a kind of soft, intermittent rasping. Yoongi concentrates on the noise, isolates it until he comes to the realization that it’s sniffling he’s hearing. He turns to Hoseok and taps his finger against the side of his nose and Hoseok nods his agreement.

Yoongi shakes his head in disgust. Is there a single substance this idiot isn’t addicted to?

It takes a moment for the sniffling to subside. It’s followed by a few seconds of quiet rustling in which Yoongi can picture Lee carefully pocketing whatever’s left of his coke. The noises from behind the brushed steel barrier finally stop and the next thing Yoongi hears is the distinct clink of the latch coming apart.

Lee swings the door wide -- gets one look at what’s waiting for him on the other side -- and nearly jumps out of his skin.

He startles so hard that he almost falls backward into the toilet. But he catches himself, regaining his balance and staring back at Yoongi with wide, worried eyes.

Yoongi stands there and says nothing.

“Excuse me,” Lee mumbles, eyeing him wearily as he tries to slide past. He takes two steps forward then stops in his tracks when he spots Hoseok. Lee swallows thickly, eyes darting back and forth between both men.

“Is there a problem gentlemen?” he croaks.

Yoongi takes a step towards Lee. He shrinks back when Yoongi reaches for his badge, yanking the retractable cord as he pulls it close to examine it. Yoongi runs his thumb over the raised lettering on the laminated card, letting the taut silence linger for dramatic effect.

Then he lets go of the badge without warning, fighting a smile when Lee flinches as it snaps back into place.

“Yes, we have a problem,” Yoongi confirms pleasantly. “And yes, it’s you.”

The little color left in Lee’s face immediately drains out.

“Look, I don’t know who you guys are, but you don’t w-want to mess with me,” he stammers, voice cracking comically halfway through his flimsy threat. “I know people.”

“Oh shit,” Yoongi’s eyes go wide with feigned concern, “You hear that, Jung? This guy knows people.”

“Sounds scary,” Hoseok chuckles.

Lee starts to breathe harder, chest rising and falling faster. Pupils blown with fear and coke.

“Now, here’s the difference between you and us, Dr. Lee,” Yoongi explains calmly. “You know people. But we -- ” he motions to himself and then to Hoseok, “ -- are people . Do you understand what I’m trying to say here?”

Yoongi punctuates his point by brushing the edge of his open leather jacket aside, allowing his pistol to peek out from underneath. Lee’s eyes lock on it as he nods slowly, pulling deep, noisy breaths through his nose.

“Great. Now we don’t have to play the game where you pretend not to know about the bullshit you’ve been pulling over at the hospital, right?”

Lee shakes his head slowly.

“So that means we also don’t have to play the game where you pretend you didn’t send some fucking street goon to rough up a little old lady, either. Right?”

The man’s mouth drops open like his first instinct is to deny that accusation. But he steals another look at Hoseok and shuts it instead.

“And then -- ” Yoongi jabs Lee in the chest with one finger and the man jumps back, “-- you tried to send that same goon after your own resident. But here’s the thing, Doctor Lee. She knows people, too.”

Lee’s body goes rigid. Yoongi watches him process the information with his drug-addled brain, a flare of recognition finally sparking in his dull eyes.

“I saw you at the hospital,” Lee whispers. “You know her.”

“Don’t worry about who I know,” Yoongi shrugs. “Worry about what you’re going to say in your resignation letter.”

He advances on the man again, closing the space between them. Lee tries to back away, but he runs out of room. He tilts against the stall door.

“Resignation letter?” he echoes weakly.

“The one you’re turning in tonight,” Yoongi explains coolly. “Before you get the fuck out of Songdo and then get the fuck out of Seoul.”

Lee sputters for a moment, grasping for his next words.

“Well, where am I supposed to go?” he bleats.

“Do we look like recruiters to you, man?” Hoseok cuts in sharply. “We don’t give a shit where you go -- you just have to go. You sure this guy is a doctor, Min? He seems way too dumb to be a doctor.”

“Nah. This guy’s a junkie pretending to be a doctor,” Yoongi accuses, dropping any pretense of good humor. “Pretending to be a tough guy, too. But all of that ends tonight.”

Yoongi grabs Lee by the chin, jerking his head into place and forcing the trembling man to look him in the eye.

“In ten minutes, you’re going to walk your ass into that hospital. You’re going to tell them you are leaving. You are going to take that piece of shit pharmacist and anyone else who’s involved with you. And then you are never going to step foot in this city again.”

He pauses to enjoy the way Lee’s pupils dilate even wider with fear.

“You’re not too high to understand what I’m saying to you right now, right?”

Lee shakes his head weakly, jaw still pinned in Yoongi’s vice grip.

“Great. Now just one more thing before you go on your merry way,” Yoongi says, voice low with menace. “Give us the name of your street guys.”

Lee panics. “I can’t,” he whines from between compressed cheeks. “They’ll kill me.”

Yoongi grips his face tighter, crushing the man’s jaw and using it to push his body flush against the stall. His fingers and knuckles turn white with the force of his grasp and Lee groans weakly at the pain.

“I will kill you,” Yoongi seethes. “Me. Right fucking now with my bare fucking hands if you don’t give me that name.”

Lee is sweating so profusely that Yoongi wonders briefly if he’s having a heart attack. He’s probably got enough coke in his system for that to be an actual concern. But the pathetic little shit manages to pull himself together long enough to follow directions.

“Kkangpae,” he wheezes.

Yoongi’s iron grip stays in place, even as he turns to Hoseok, even as both men exchange a look. That is something he did not see coming. Perhaps his recent personal issues are family business, after all.

He finally releases Lee’s jaw and the man rears back, breathing hard.

“You have exactly one day to get the fuck out of this city,” Yoongi instructs quietly. “And that is not an offer I’m prepared to make twice.”

Lee licks his dry lips, nodding his head slowly like he’s just come out of a trance. “Okay.”

“Great chat,” Yoongi smiles, patting Lee’s cheek.

Hoseok leaves his post at the door to cross the cramped bathroom and reach for the coffee Lee abandoned minutes ago. Both men watch in silence as he turns it up over the sink, pours it out, and then tosses it in the trash.

He heads back to the door and holds it open.

“Damn Hoseok,” Yoongi murmurs as he brushes past. “That was cold.”

*********************************

YOU

There’s buzzing. Of that, you’re sure.

But in those first few moments that you’re rousing, you can’t be sure if you’re hearing it or dreaming it. You’re disoriented. It’s the second time in as many days you’ve woken up in an unfamiliar bed.

Shafts of sunlight pour through the blinds and you squint at them, trying to get a sense of the time of day. If the amber tinge is any indication, it’s late into the afternoon.

The buzzing sounds again.

You roll to your side to grab your cell phone off the nightstand and blink at a long list of waiting texts.

ko: wake up sleeping beauty [ 11:36 AM ]

ko: i have news [ 11:45 AM ]

ko: big news [ 12:22 PM ]

ko: and gaeran tost-u [ 1:02 PM ]

ko: ready for you to wake up now [ 1:43 PM ]

ko: don’t mind me just gonna bang a few pots and pans [ 2:11 PM ]

Any curiosity over Ko’s big news is overshadowed by the way your heart drops when none of those messages is from Yoongi.

Before you’d left his apartment, he’d asked you to stay. He’d cleared his throat and looked down at his hands and explained that he’d feel better if you weren’t alone until this entire mess was settled. But the way he looked at you in those last few minutes together made you feel like his proposition was about much more than just your protection.

It made you want to say yes.

Never mind that it’s insane to feel so at home in his personal space -- or that coming to that realization might have sent you into a mild panic. In the end, you’d had to say no because you couldn’t bring yourself to leave Ko on her own while this madness played out.

You rub the sleep out of your eyes and fire off two quick texts.

you: i hope you’re okay. please be careful [ 2:33 PM ]

you: up now. be down in five [ 2:34 PM ]

**************************

Ko makes good on her promise of gaeran tost-u.

You’re greeted by the pleasant smell of the sugared egg dish as you walk down the stairs. Ko sits at her kitchen table, eyes shining with excitement, and pushes a plate at you when you slide into the chair across from hers.

“Eat,” she orders sweetly. Your stomach rumbles on cue and you waste no time digging in.

“This is really good,” you declare around a mouthful of bread and eggs. “I might have to live with you forever.”

Ko smiles wide and the expression makes you feel warm from the inside out. The bruising on her face is barely visible now, easily hidden with a little makeup. Her eyes crinkle with happiness as she watches you eat without saying a word.

“Alright,” you sigh, loathe to stop eating even for as long as it takes to speak. “Spill it. You look fit to burst.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” she complains cheerfully. “Dr. Lee is gone. Walked into Songdo last night and walked out forever.”

You gasp halfway through your next bite, sputtering as you try to catch your breath around a mouthful of toasted bread. Ko stands to grab you a glass of water which you gratefully accept.

“Well, don’t die on me now,” she teases, “Because there’s more. Nang left, too. And Tuan and Beom from pathology. All four of them quit without even so much as a notice, Jagi. Isn’t that wild?”

You sip your water slowly and Ko’s eyes flash as she watches you.

“Yoo called me early this morning and said the entire hospital is talking about it. There’s a bunch of crazy theories going around. And here I am, drinking my tea. Thinking about how you took a few sick days and showed up here. Thinking about how healthy and rested you look right now. Isn’t that interesting?”

You nod, jamming the sandwich back in your mouth for an obnoxiously large bite.

“And I can’t help but wonder if there’s some connection between this very convenient development and my very sweet, secretive friend.”

Ko’s mouth twists into a teasing smile as you chew your food absurdly slow.

“That sandwich isn’t going to last forever, Jagi,” she says dryly. She lifts her teacup to her mouth and takes a dainty sip. “And trust me, I have nothing but time.”

She leans back, cup in hand.

“Okay, so I might know something about it,” you admit after a while. “But there’s still a lot I don’t know. And I’m not sure how much of this you want to hear.”

Ko tuts under her breath.

“I want to hear it all. I’ve got quite a few years on you and trust me, very little shocks me anymore. So now you spill it.”

You take another sip of water and clear your throat.

“Okay,” you exhale. “So there’s this guy -- ”

“ -- Oh, I love it when stories start like this,” Ko interrupts. She props her chin up with her hands like you’re telling a bedtime story and you shake your head with a wry smile.

“He’s been kind of… helping me, I guess.”

“Helping you,” Ko echoes. “As in helping you out of your clothes?”

“No,” you deny hotly, cheeks warming. “He’s a friend.”

Ko doesn’t bother to call you out on the weak lie. But her face says what her mouth doesn’t when one skeptical brow raises high.

“Go on.”

“I told him about what was going on at the hospital and he said he could help me,” you explain slowly. “So I’m pretty sure he figured out a way to run off Lee and Nang.”

Ko taps her finger against the side of her teacup.

“So let me see if I have this right,” she muses. “You tell this friend -- who you’ve never once mentioned, by the way -- that you’ve been having this very dangerous trouble at work. And then your friend somehow manages to convince two grown men who’ve worked at Songdo for years to give up their high-paying jobs and up-front access to IV drugs overnight.”

You shift uncomfortably in your chair.

“And just like that -- ” Ko snaps her fingers for emphasis, “ -- they’re gone without so much as a fuss.”

You nod weakly.

“Jagi,” Ko’s voice drops low. “I take it your friend’s not a mailman, is he?”

“No,” you mumble. “Definitely not.”

Ko hums under her breath. She carefully lifts her teacup to drink, eyes trained on you over the rim. Her quiet scrutiny makes you anxious.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asks after a long pause.

“If I said no would that stop you?”

“Not a chance,” Ko laughs. “Would this friend happen to be the mysterious, handsome man who asked for you in the ER a few weeks back?”

Mind like a steel trap, this woman. You should have known Ko would make that connection and fast. There’s no point in denying it, so you don’t.

“Yes,” you whisper thickly. “He is.”

It’s hard to get a read on Ko’s reaction. Over the years, you’ve come to rely on her sweetness and wisdom and warmth. But now, as you stare into her dark eyes and try to interpret her careful expression, you realize there’s something else you need from her.

Her approval.

“Ko, I think I -- ” you pause to choose your words carefully, “ -- I think I might be in really deep with this guy.”

Ko snorts.

“Oh, I think you might be right about that, Jagiya . And if he’s helping you with something like this? Chances are, you’re not alone.”

“Yeah,” you exhale, wringing your hands together beneath the table. “Thing is -- I need you to tell me I’m not making a mistake here.”

The corners of Ko’s mouth lift into a soft expression of surprise.

“Oh, Jagi,” she chides sweetly. “You know I can’t tell you that. I don’t know anything about this man.” She reaches across the table to cover your hand with her own. “But you do. You’re the only one who knows how you feel about him. And you’re the only one who knows if he’s a good man underneath it all.”

Ko squeezes your hand and you turn your head before she can see the tears that threaten in your eyes. The amber sunlight outside her kitchen window is shifting orange now, flares of light reflecting off the glass.

You stare at them and think about Yoongi.

Until now, it’s like you’ve been splitting him into two different men -- the bruised, bloody con artist from the exam room and the quiet, teasing flirt from the coffee shop. Until now, it’s been the only way to reconcile your complicated feelings.

But it's well past time you accepted the truth.

The same Yoongi whose cheeks had pinked when he’d asked you to stay is the same Yoongi you watched beat the shit out of a hired thug. The Yoongi who carries a cross is the Yoongi who carries a gun. They’re two halves of one whole.

And you can’t pine for one and reject the other.

Your cell phone buzzes from the pocket of your pajama pants. You reach for it, relief coursing through you when you spot Yoongi’s name on the screen.

yoongi: one more thing to do before we can talk [ 3:01 PM ]

yoongi: it’s cold outside, be sure to bundle up [ 3:01 PM ]

Yoongi’s random mention of the weather confuses you. You stare at the texts and Ko stares at you, concerned by the baffled expression on your face.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no,” you insist, shaking your head. “Just, um -- ”

Bundle up. A tingle runs up the length of your spine as realization slowly creeps over you.

“Excuse me for a moment,” you murmur, slipping out of your seat.

Ko watches you dash up the stairs, slack-jawed.

You make a beeline for your borrowed room, throwing open the closet doors to find the coat you’d left hanging there on arrival. The coat you’d worn to and from Yoongi’s. You hurriedly dig into the pockets, fingers immediately making contact with something hard and jagged.

You pull it out.

The shiny silver key in your palm looks like it’s never been used, sharp edges gleaming in the waning sunlight streaming into this room.

You don’t have to guess what it’s for.

You just close your fingers around it and hold it tight.

*****************

tag list!

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#yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #min yoongi x reader #ficswithluv #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #btswriterscollective

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that-one-weeb-but-starwars · 3 years

Text

One Night| Hunter

Note: Nsfw content,

Warnings: creampies, p in v, facials, squirting, name calling, rough, hair pulling, light choking, smoking 18+ content

Reader: Female

"Thanks again." Y/n thanked the kessel burbon slid to her, sliding credits to Cid, "any more missions?"

"No,those clone boys took the last one I had." Cid spoke, "there won't be any more for a few cycles."

"Clones took my jobs?" Y/n questioned, sipping the hard liquor.

"Yeah! When wrecker through those KT troopers like it was nothing!" Omega cheered as the group walked down into the bar.

"Speak of the devil." Cid spoke, Y/n turning her head.

"Yes Wrecker's strength was acceptionally helpful this mission. Yet Omega's new tracking skills came in handy." Tech spoke.

"And Echo's climbing skills! How do you do that with one hand?!" Omega cheered.

"Pratice." Echo spoke.

Hunter chuckled at Omega's happiness.

"We did good boys-"

He stopped, seeing Y/n casually talking to Cid, sipping on her drink, her hair a mess, a few braids in her short hair making her hair uneven in both long and short length. In baggy black robes a belt tired tigh around her waist. Boots knee high with her baggy pants tucked in. Her eyeliner red and in sharp wings up towards her relaxed brows.

She turned her gaze towards hunter, her eyes a cybernetic white, then her head followed. Her gaze lingering on him as she smiled smally.

"Oh no no no! Watch your eyes dark and broody!" Cid argued, rushing around the counter.

"Don't mind me I'm also looking disrespectfully." Y/n teased getting up from her seat, following behind Cid.

"Uh," Hunter tried to speak, woah was his only thought process, "Your...new."

"Not knew. Just havent seen me before." Y/n smiled, standing next to Cid with a hand on her hip, "names Y/n's and Im presuming you all are the clones that have been taking my jobs?"

"Oh, we are?" Omega looked up at Hunter, who was still at a lost for words.

"What?" Hunter asked looking down at Omega.

Y/n chuckled, walking up to the longer haired male, "Listen, dark and broody, we can be friends. I just want my missions."

She leaned into his face, his face becoming red "Y-yeah..."

"Thanks then." Y/n smiled, his eyes gazing to his banana, "I'll take this as payment for taking my last missions."

With ease she pulled the headband off his head, turning her head half way to talk to Cid she smiled.

"I'll see you late then mom." Y/n chuckled, nudging Hunter as she passed, "Im off to collect some credits Im owed."

"Did she just call Cid Mom?" Wrecker questioned Y/n walking out the bar and up the steps.

"I believe she did." Tech responded.

Hunter was hit in the side with Cid's walking staff, "I'm docking your pay half!"

"What!?" Hunter argued.

"Thats what you get for lookin at my kid like that!" Cid defended, "watch it next time"

"Well if our pay has already been docked. She was quiet pretty. Her eyes especially." Tech repsonded as Hunter nudged him hard.

"Hey-"

"Don't worry, Hunter if you marry her Cid's your new mom!" Wrecker laughed shoving the man.

"I don't even know her!" Hunter argued.

"And that'll never happen!" Cid defended, "now watch it before I dock all your pay! You won't be seeing her again."

"But she took Hunter's bandanna." Omega pointed out, Hunter feeling his head.

"She did?!"

"And I thought Wrecker had it bad for that twilek girl he helped at the market." Echo told.

So there Hunter was, left the whole day with no headband, atleast 3 standard hours he waited, rubbing his head feeling as if he was missing something, well he was missing something.

"Hey! Mom! You'll never guess the load I got this time!" Y/n called out walking down the steps and into the bar, "I beat fifteen of the finest warriors apparently! Yeah right!"

Y/n walked in, gym bag at her side, the boys turning to the girl, stripped down to a tank top and a diffrent set of black pants that were tucked into her boots, a certain red bandana around her thigh.

"Oh you're all still here." She spoke, "I was-"

Hunter stepped infront of her, "I'd like my bandana back."

"Hm? Yeah come on." Y/n spoke, walking around him, "follow me."

"Yeah no sorry- not happening-" Hunter argued grabbing her wrist, "just hand it over."

Y/n ripped her wrist from him, hurting his hand in the process, "well then take it off, its right there."

Hunter kept his gaze away from Y/n's thigh, her ahoulder looking interesting at the momment.

"Well its mine then." Y/n spoke going to walk away but her arm was grabbed, Hunter turning to her as he kept his gaze up, his hands feeling for the band,

She chuckled, "little higher and you'll be at my zipper-"

He sighed looking away as he felt his bandana, his hand reaching around and untying it from her thigh.

"You smell nice." Y/n teased

"I don't see how you're Cid's kid." Hunter commented.

"Not by blood sweetheart." Y/n commented.

There was a chuckle as Hunter turned his head, Tech and Echo going back to there silence Wrecker luckily out and about with Omega. Hunter removed the band finally as Y/n chuckled.

Y/n leaned over, kissing Hunter's cheek as he flushed, "rooms down the hall on your left, we should be lucky my mom's on the upper floors."

Hunter only nodded as Y/n walked away, waving to his two brothers who were playing sabbec at the bar.

Hunter turned around to follow her a few mintues later, "don't be too loud."

Hunter glared at the two but made his leave anyways, following Y/n's instructions. Making it to the last door he knocked the door sliding open as Y/n sat on the floor, a tray in her lap, neon fairy lights on the strung carelessly on the walls and ceiling, weapons littered on the floor, some things hanging on the walls, there was a mess of the bed.

"So you came." She spoke popping whatever she was rolling into a jar, setting it on her nightstand and pushing the tray into the drawer. Standing up zhe grabbed a box of matches, throwing herself into one of the large bean bag chairs, big enough for two people, "lock the door would you?"

He did as asked, "why call me in here?"

"Well...Dark and Broody." Y/n spoke, "sit, come on."

Patting the seat besides her he walked over, "I have a name."

"Okay? Tell me it."

"Hunter."

"Okay Hunter." She spoke, "you seemed tense. So we. Me and you. Are gonna smoke-"

"Smoke? Smoke what-"

"One of these." Y/n spoke holding up the jar, "Kessel herb."

"Spice? Yeah no-"

"No. Herb." Y/n defended, "there's a big difference."

Hunter watched her swish the jar around in front of him, "you pick one for me atleast."

Mentally sighing he did as asked, Pulling out a joint for her she smiled, closing the jar and setting it aside, "atleast this doesn't smell bad, smells like flowers."

Hunter watched her open up the match box, the joint between her lips as she striked the first match, a complete dud, she moved onto the second one, also a dud, by the fourth one Hunter was wondering if she'd ever light the thing.

"Dropped them in water-"

"I can do it." Hunter cut off, Y/n gladly handing him the match box as she leaned over, he striking out on the first match but the second one he got working, the flame bright and prominet despite the red undertone of the lights, leaning over as well he lit the thing easy as pie.

"Thanks."

He watched her take a deep inhale in bowing out through her nose she leaned back, muscles already calming and relaxing.

"Why did you really call me in here."

"I told you to smoke." Y/n spoke, "I know a stressed man when I see one. Shit half the time I am a stressed man."

Hunter watched her take in another puff, "Plus it would ruffle my moms scales."

Hunter chuckled Y/n was right about that much, "yet also wanted to see if you wanted to hook up for a night."

Hunter coughed, not because of the smoke but the abruptness, "I'm sorry?"

"Well I seen you look at me the way you did earlier," she told, "and you're pretty good looking, but you seem to atleast have a good head on your sholders, men I know that look at me usually make a comment right away, you kept them to yourself."

Hunter responded with silence, "it's just a suggestion, an idea." She told him turning to look at him.

Again silence and Y/n contuined to smoke as if it was no problem that he said no, he found it, hot, sexy even. She knew what she wanted and she asked if told no she was okay with that, carrying out through her day.

"Why me?"

"I just explained why, you." Y/n spoke, "its yes or no tense guy."

Hunter shifted, its been a while, he mentally sighed, Y/n returning to smoking casually. Was this a way of teasing? If it was, it was harsh, and it was working. Shifting once more there chlothed and armored touching one another.

Damn, Hunter thought, to have her strong thigh in his hand, his head between her thighs. He looked up seeing Y/n pull the joint away once more, feeling the stare Y/n turned her head

"Wanna try it after all?" Y/n questioned, bringing the joint infront of him, "if not more for me."

Fuck it, the empire rules the galaxy, the republic fell, his brother is trying to kill them, what could he possibly loose from having any fun.

He took it with gloved fingers bringing it to his lips, Y/n watched him take a deep inhale, Y/n impresssed.

"This isnt your first rodeo." She teased.

He leaned in closer to her, if even physically possible, removing the joint from his lips, he pushed closer to Y/n, his lips placed on her's softly, and only for a momment, then pulled away, strings of smoke coming from both there lips now as Hunter's mind felt clear, relaxed.

"Lets do it." Hunter responded, usuing his armor as an ash tray, pressing the ashes to death on his chest plate as the embers died.

"One puffs not gonna get you anywhere." Y/n teased.

"But you will..." he whispered against her lips, pressing furthur once more he kissed her.

The kiss much more passionate than the first, Y/n running her hands through his hair, his bandanna slipping off in the process as she tossed it away.

"Fuck you're so hot..." He whispered into the kiss, Y/n moaning softly, his hands untucking her white tank top from her pants.

"Don't tell Im sharing with someone, thats why you came back all undressed." He teased against her lips, his hands hiking up her t-shirt past her covered breast.

"If sharing means arena fights. Then yes." Y/n teased back causing Hunter to chuckle.

Hunter pulled away, unclapssing his armor as she watched, letting it be tossed to the floor he was stripped down to his blacks. Bitting her lip at the buldge in his blacks, he leaned back into her,kissing her lip's passionately, forcing his tongue into her mouth she groaned, his touange pressing against his as they fought.

The kiss ended in a tie, both pulling away panting, Hunter let his hand's find her bare skin in the mean time, traveling up her adoment and covered breast he found her shirt, pulling away he lifted it over her head and arms. About to kiss her again she stopped him, pulling on the edge of his blacks, she pulled his shirt up, he lifting his arms in the process, his gloves rolling off with his sleeves in the process. Tossing the article of chlothing somewhere random. He removing her black sports bra, he kissed her just above her breast.

She humming in pleasure as he did so, traveling up to her neck, kicking her boots and socks off in the process, her legs tensed squeezing together Hunter had found her sweet spot, the space just above her collar bone, where her muscle was tense.

"H-hunter..." she panted, kissing the side of his head as she let out a soft groan, her head rolling back as her fingers tugged on his hair.

"You drive me crazy doing that..." Hunter whispered against her skin, dragging his kisses down her chest, and to her breast, where he let himself take in one of her soft buds.

"Fuck..." he moaned, his hair being pulled once more.

"Maker you're mouths amazing-" Y/n spoke her legs squeeze together tighter, adding to her pleasure as she groaned.

Switching over to give the second one just as much attention his hand cupped her other breast, squeezing her battle scared flesh softly, his other hand slipping behind her waist band slipping into her panties.

Hunter pulled away from her bud with a intoxicated look, "Your soaked..."

Y/n chuckled, "and you're hard as a rock..."

Pulling his hands away from her, she watched him undo her pants, pulling them down as quick as he could, and with her help of kicking them off they were gone.

Y/n reached for the last of his blacks, pulling them off his hips he pulled at them as well, removing his boxers as well. His chlothes barely releasing his length, Y/n's hand wrapped around the base of his aching cock.

Y/n's face laced with warmth and a teasing smirk she let her thumb rub the strip under the base of his cock, he groaned watching her tease his cock. His hand pulling at her panties she raised her hips to help, and he loosely pulled them down enough to let his hand go between her legs.

His finger's teasing her clit softly as she meweled, "Fucking hell..." she whined softly.

Both messes under each other's touches Y/n picked up a pace, her hand starting to milk his cock as he moaned heavily, body both relaxed and tense he gripped her thigh.

"Easy- now..." Y/n whispered to him, planting a soft kiss on his lips, "Don't wanna finish just in my hand do we?"

Hunter shook his head no, "you better be on something...I'm gonna cum in you till you beg me to stop..." he moaned.

She chuckled, leaning into his ear, "yeah? Am I gonna be sitting in pools of your cum?"

"Fuck yeah you are." He told her, "f-from every fuckin hole, starting with you're mouth."

She was taken back both by comment. He stood up as she looked up at him, his cock in her face, she moved forward, her lips brushing against his cock as she licked his tip, the taste of Pre-Cum now on her touange.

"Salty..." she teased kissing down his shaft, her hand wrapping around his base. Looking up at him his face was flushed, yet still held a determined look of lust in his eye.

Pulling back to the tip of his cock she kissed the tip, opening her mouth she pushed his tip in, her hands resting on his hips.

Fuck does he feel so good down my throat, Y/n thought, her eyes closed as she moaned, bobbing her head almost instantly causing Hunter to groan.

"Easy doll. You don't wanna choke." He teased, watching her bobbing increase he moaned loudly, her pace only increasing, "Maker you know to suck cock- s-shit-"

Y/n pulled away jacking his siliva covered cock off, "H-hunter fill me with your cum please. I wanna be in a pool of your cum."

He covered his mouth, what the fuck., but he wasnt complaining, watching her deep throat him again he groaned, his hips starting to pool back and thrust, and as soon as he knew it he was holding the back of her head, mouth fucking her hard.

"Yeah baby take it all...like a little slut take it all for me." He moaned, " hell- I'm-"

Hunter hit deep inside her mouth, cumming down her throat, mid way pulling out letting the rest coat her face.

"H-hunter!" She meweled, but he covered her mouth, not wanting anyone to hear.

She swallowed his cum, groaning into his hand as he pulled his hand away.

"They can't hear us..." she panted, cum covered her face and mixed with her drool as she tried to catch her breath, "t-the walls are solid concrete..."

"Well then...I suppose I will be making you scream..." he panted as she bit her lip, looking down at her he chuckled.

Face covered in cum, running down her lips and chin, her breast perky, marks already starting to form on her neck, her panties down to her knees as she sat waiting for him, flushed and horny.

"Maker I can not wait to put my cock in that tight pussy of your's." He told her, his thumb holding her chin.

"Then do it. Fuck me till you can't cum no more" she begged, watching him kneel down infront of her, causing him to chuckle.

"I want a taste of you first." He told her.

Pulling her panties off she bit her lip as he grabbed her legs roughly by the back of her knees, spreading them from one another, she shifted in her spot, allowing her legs to spread a bit wider and give him a better veiw. Hunter didn't bother teasing her, her pussy soaked and aching as he dived in, eating at her clit.

"F-fuck Hunter!" She cried, her back arching as she gripped onto his hair immediately.

Y/n was in heaven, Hunter between her legs completely devoring her.

"Baby so sweet..." he moaned into her cunt, licking up every bit of her fluid he could, shoving his touange deep inside her.

"Oh- maker! Fuck me! Please fuck me!" She begged, his fingers joining his touange deep inside her, as an incoherent mewel escaped her lips, his fingers thrusting deep inside her.

"Come on baby..squirt for me i wanna taste it." He whispered against her cunt.

"H-holy shit!" Y/n exclaimed, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, eating her raw her back arched and her legs squeezed together but he pulled away, spanking her on the back of the thigh.

"Do that again and I'll stop eating you out and fuck you until you're raw." Hunter deamnded, she nodded mindlessly, as he went back to devoring her.

Her pussy pulsating as he shoved his touange deep insider her, his fingers competing for space.

"H-hunter..." she whined, feeling like she was to snap, "H-Hunter- Hunter! Hunter!"

She squirted into his mouth, her legs squeezing together in pleasure.

"F-fuck!" She moaned, back arching as her legs shook, "F-fuck,"

He pulled away from her, flicking her clit with his fingers intesifiying her orgaism. Moaning loudly she watched him getting up to his knees he leaned over her grabbing her face.

"I told you if you closed your legs again I'd fuck you until your raw." He argued as Y/n blushed deeply.

"I'm sorry sir..." she apologized, pussy still pulsating, still completely soaked with a mix of her own cum and his siliva.

"What did you call me?"

"S-sorry daddy." She apologized.

"Atleast you know your place."

Holy fuck, where did this Hunter come from? Not that she knew Hunter at all, but it was still a shock to see the 'dark and broody' man become such a sex addict that liked to be called daddy.

"You either call me daddy or sarge," he demanded grabbing her chin, "understand?"

She nodded in response.

"I can't hear you."

"Yes daddy."

"Good girl..." he praised, "the better you are the more cum you'll get, understand?"

"Yes daddy."

He spred her legs open again, his knees resting on the bean bag below her as he lined himself up with her soaked entrence. Pushing his tip in her she moaned loudly, her feet resting on his hips, he chuckled, grabbing her hips tightly he shoved himself in her fully.

"F-fuck!" She cried out, "Oh maker yes!"

He started beating into her without warning, she crying out in pleasure as her body shook.

"D-daddy so rough! Oh-yes!" She shouted.

"Touch yourself While I fuck you," he demanded, her hand hand reaching between her legs,rubbing her clit while he fucked her senseless, "Good girl, looks like someone wants to be filled with cum."

She moaned nodding her head in the process as he beating balls deep into her, hearing his cum filled balls slapping against her soaked skin.

"F-fuck daddy please!" She begged, one of his hands finding the back of her hair as he gripped it, arching her over.

"Please what baby girl? Come on. Tell daddy what you want."

"P-please cum in me!" She cried drooling in pleasure, he groaned her tight pussy walls clenching around him, "H-Hunter!"

Moaning heavily he gripped her hair tighter, her free hand gripping his forearm as she bit her lip. The feeling built up in her stomach.

"Y-yeah! D-daddy! Daddy make me cum!" She begged, he watched her come unraveled, beating into her roughly her back arched, toes curling as she moaned loudly, soaking his cock as she squirted onto him, he pulled out of her, rubbing her clit intesifiying her orgaism.

"Oh- Shit!" She cried, the quicker he rubbing her clit more she squirted, slipping back into her he delievered a few hard thrust as she cried out, pulling out once more her orgaism intense as she held her legs open.

"Fuck daddy!" She cried.

"Come on baby let it all out." He praised, slipping into her again and fucking her roughly for a few more thrust, pulling out once more as she squirted the last she could.

"H-hunter- Hunter!"

"Shh baby. Shh." He spoke leaning kissing her roughly she kissed back, pulling away he looked down at her, "You still need my cum in you huh baby?"

"Mhmm, yes please." She begged.

"Good girl." He praised, kissing her sloppily as she groaned.

Pulling away she held onto his arm as he pushed his way back into her, causing her to mewel out his name.

"What a perfect little pussy." He told her, starting to thrust into her, his hand rest at the side of her throat as his thumb pulled her chin down, she wore a curled smile with a deep blush, her pupils dialted wide and pupils seemingly in the shape of hearts.

"H-hunter...daddy..." she meweled.

He grunted down a groan, feeling himself starting to become unraveled, "pussys still tight for me,fuck-"

His gripp tightned around her neck, causing her to choke slightly, as his thrust became sloppy, becoming increasingly rougher as her moans grew louder once more. Loosing rythem he pulled his hand away from her neck, his hands gripping her hips for leverage as he pulled them against his thrust, groaning loudly he still beat into her harshly, his cock pulsating in her. She begged for him to creampie her, her hands finding his hair as she tugged and pulled.

"Ah! Fuck! Yeah! Fuck!" He groaned, "Oh! OH!"

He shoved himself deep inside of her keeping her steady as her back arched, his own body arching into her's as he released a massive load of cum into her.

"Oh! Fuck yeah!" He groaned, completely loosing control, contuining his rough thrust.

"H-hunter! Hunter! Holy shit!" She cried out.

"Fuck Im cumming again!"

"H-hunter! Fuck!" A second smaller load was shot into her, filling her womb with his hot seed as he held her hips tight, rocking into her steadily as to make sure he stuffed her. He panted heavily, his ears seemingly ringing as he looked down at her.

Her mouth agape as she breathed heavily, her breast rising and falling with heavy pants.

"Good girl..." Hunter praised, slolwy pulling out of her, Y/n letting out the last of her soft moans.

He panted heavily, his hands spreading her legs as she ended up holding her legs open by her inner thighs, Hunter watches the thick cum leaked out of her, cum covering her pussy folds.

"Good girl." Hunter praised, a few of his fingers scooping up some of the cum as she opened her mouth, letting it sloppily leak from Hunter's hand to her mouth and face, "Now, turn over on all fours, Im not done with you yet."

#sw tbb hunter #hunter x you #hunter x reader #hunter smut #hunter x female reader #hunter x y/n #the bad batch hunter #hunter star wars #star wars hunter #hunter the bad batch #x reader smut

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quillquiver · 4 years

Text

and it’s good

DeanCas coda to 15x19: ‘Inherit the Hearth’

He hasn’t stopped praying.

From an empty world to one filled with people, Dean has gone to his knees every night—on the floor, the gravel, the dirt—and prayed. Head down. Face pressed to his knuckles. Dear Cas…

From each failed plan to their eventual, anti-climactic victory, Dean shares it all. And when it’s all over, when they wake up the morning after with no Jack, no Cas and no world to save, it’s bittersweet. Confusing. Like being released into the wild after living in a cage.

Where does he go from here? What does he do?

What does he want?

Sam doesn’t have a problem finding his own answers, but then again, he never has; he was the one with the life outside The Life: the college boy, the dreamer. Dean… Dean needs some time to adjust. Regroup. Grieve, maybe—whatever the hell that looks like. So, he serves himself a bottle of Jack, grabs a box of Pop Tarts, and makes his way to his recliner. First day of freedom? Dr. Sexy and sweet oblivion sound awesome.

“Hey, uh, what’re you—” Sam cuts himself off, skidding to a halt in the doorway of the Dean Cave. He’s got that pinched look on his face, the one that means: inevitable bitch face, concerned edition. Dean waves him off.

“Chilling out,” he mutters, taking a long pull from the bottle. “Figure I deserve a vacation.”

Sam narrows his eyes. “A vacation.”

“Yeah, genius. A vacation. You know, a little me time?” Dean takes another pull. “You got a problem with that?”

Sam shifts his weight. Frowns at the floor. It’s weird to see him like this; he’s so big, now, but that move is straight out of his teen years—when he’d been gangly and awkward and angry and unsure. He looks up, resolved, and Dean heaves an internal sigh. Whatever the fuck Sam is trying to do, he doesn’t want any part in it.

“What if you come with me?”

“Nope.”

“Dean—”

“Look, Sammy, we fought the big fight, we won, there ain’t nothing left to do,” Dean says reasonably, bitterly, turning back to the DVD menu. “So I don’t wanna go into town, or to the store, or wherever else you’re planning on gallivanting to today. I’m gonna watch my show, drown myself in booze and pass the fuck out, because that is what I’m owed. Capiche?”

“Eileen texted. I’m… I’m going to go get her.”

It’s weird, Dean thinks, how many times a heart can break. He clenches his jaw and swallows the lump in his throat, blinking rapidly. Allows himself a second—one second—of envy and jealousy before he slaps a smile on his face and nods. “Good,” he says. He means it. “You should.”

“So…” Sam trails off.

“So…” Dean echoes.

“…Come with.”

“Sam, I’m not gonna crash your romantic reunion okay? That’s weird.”

“Dean—”

“Sam.” And there’s more that comes out in that word than he ever intended. It hangs heavy in the air between them before dropping to the ground like a stone. Loud. Shattering on impact. Dean thinks his voice might have cracked and his vision is blurring because this pity? This is fucking worse. Shoving a Pop Tart in his mouth, Dean chews with his mouth open in the vain hope that his table manners will prove an adequate distraction, but that shit hasn’t worked for a long time.

It tastes like sawdust.

“Just go,” he says. “You have to go, man.”

It’s as much a plea for his brother as it is for himself, and for one long, terrifying moment Dean thinks Sam’s going to refuse. That he’s gonna be dragged across the country to witness his brother find happiness in a way he will never be able to have.

…But Sam is kind, not cruel, and when those big eyes of his fill with tears, Dean has never been so happy to have given himself up. He watches as his little brother’s shoulders slump. As he readjusts his duffle.

“I’ll be home in two days,” Sam says. “If you’re dead, I’m gonna pissed.”

“Yeah yeah,” Dean replies, forcing himself to tease. To be excited. He deserves this. “Go sing in the rain or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” Sam volleys back, a smile tugging up the corner of his mouth. He looks so happy, and Dean can’t stop himself from mirroring the expression. It hits him all at once, then—a sucker punch to the gut, the heart—that no matter what, he did right by his little brother. That he’s grown up to be smart, and kind and caring, and now he can be happy. And Dean—Dean’ll figure it out. But Sam’s taken care of and that’s… good. That’s a lot.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Mm.”

“I love you,” Sam says. He’s seven and thirty-seven and Dean feels something inside himself ease and break all at once.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I love you, too.”

Sam grins.

***

There’s no more frozen pizza.

It’s already a fucking travesty that the pizza place doesn’t deliver to their secret underground bunker, but Jack polished off the last two pies—and while it’s a little bit hilarious to think of the ‘New God’ (his kid) scarfing down shitty plain cheese in his pjs, it’s also awful, and painful. So Dean slips on his shoes, grabs his keys, and shoulders on the jacket with Cas’s handprint over his hole-y sleep shirt.

It’s not like he’s sober, but he’s done worse.

It feels like a shitty pizza day, so Dean makes a beeline for the Wal-Mart and its frozen section, stocking up on two of every topping from the cheapest brand they’ve got. He grabs popcorn, chips, twizzlers and margarita mix, because fuck it, and smiles at the cashier. It’s not an epic romantic reunion, but this is what normal people do, right? They take an entire day and wallow without the weight of the world on their shoulders.

Dean’s cradling his spoils, twizzler hanging out of his mouth, shuffling out of the garage when—

He freezes.

The kitchen. There’s someone banging around in the kitchen.

Not like aggressively banging—one quick sweep around the area confirms no signs of forced entry—but just like… moving shit. Washing the dishes from this morning, or getting ready to make something new. Dean’s heart is caught between hope and heartbreak and he forces himself towards the latter. It’s probably Charlie, or Bobby or Jody or Donna or, hell, even Jack or Claire. No one else can get in. And if it’s something dangerous… well, Dean doesn’t have a weapon on him, and his damn pizza’s thawing.

But it’s not Charlie or Bobby or Jody or Donna. It’s not Jack. It’s not Claire.

…It’s Cas; freshly showered, dressed in Dean’s fucking clothes, making himself a sandwich.

He’s beautiful. Dean’s shirt—AC/DC, the one with the mustard stain on the collar—is just a little small on him, and he’s humming, and Dean has to blink once twice three times to make sure he’s not a goddamn mirage but no he’s still there, still scooping grape jelly onto the good bread and then putting the dirty spoon on the counter like a friggin’ heathen and—

“Are you gonna wash that?”

It’s sure as fuck not what he’d meant to say, but it gets the job done. Cas drops the spoon—the spoon—and whirls around like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Dean,” he breathes, like Dean’s name is some kind of benediction. Like it’s important.

Dean clutches his groceries tighter to his chest. “A-Are you…?” he asks. Steps forward. Steps back. Stares because he can’t, he can’t— “Are you real?”

Cas is barefoot. He’s quiet when he steps across the linoleum. His hair is turning fluffy where it’s drying and his eyes are blue and bright and he’s a miracle. “I’m real,” he confirms quietly. His hand twitches by his side, and Dean thinks that’s fair. Thinks that he gets that Cas has reservations because of—because.

But they’re unfounded.

Dean drops his spoils because they’re an afterthought; nothing is more important than knowing, than reaching out to touch his fingertips to Cas’s shoulder. To his jaw. He can’t stop the tears from springing to his eyes like he can’t stop himself from laughing. Smiling. And suddenly he has Cas in his arms and he smells like Dean’s soap and Sam’s fancy shampoo, and they’re holding—clutching each other, and Dean turns his head because it has to be now he has to say it now: “Cas, I—”

“I know,” Cas interrupts. “You don’t have to—I know.”

“Yeah?” Dean asks, voice high with something like hysteria. The whole thing is so absurd, so insane, so fucked, that it’s all he can do to bury his face in Cas’s neck. To squeeze his eyes shut. To talk. “Well, you’re a friggin’ moron,” he says. “And you got no goddamn idea what you’re talking about, because—because you changed me, too, you dick.” Cas’s fingers dig into Dean’s waist and Dean’s heart pounds like it’s trying to escape and his throat is dry and he’s sweating and he’s gonna be sick, he’s gonna die— “A-And I love you.”

He wrenches himself away, then, glaring like he dares Cas to take the words away from him. “Okay?” he asks, rhetorically. Menacingly. It’s a declaration and a confession and a challenge. And Cas meets his stare unflinchingly. He reaches up to thumb at the wetness on the apple of Dean’s cheek. “Okay,” he says. He nods. Leans in. “Okay.” Their mouths brush. “Good.”

It’s not even a real kiss, so Dean can’t be blamed for how he chases; how he breathes good, in faint agreement like a lovesick fool, and moves until they’re kissing good and proper—slow and sweet and then deep and wet and it’s good, it’s so good, he’s so good.

Later, they’ll have to make every thawed pizza. They’ll drink the margarita mix and share the same popcorn bowl and pay no attention to Dr. Sexy playing in the background. They’ll talk about Chuck and Jack and Sam. They’ll stare. They’ll tease. They’ll flirt.

But for now, Cas twists his hands in Dean’s shirt and Dean buries his hands in dark hair. They pause for breath only to come together, again and again and again.

And it’s good.

#destiel coda #coda fic #15x19 #spn 15x19 #s15 #spn spoilers #second to last coda ever folks #it's fucking emotional #adventures in fanfic

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beauvibaby · 3 years

Text

there won’t be anyone else — t.seguin

a/n: obviously my timeline isn’t going to be accurate, and I know he went back to Canada for a large portion of his recovery but this is what worked… should I do a part 2???

Part two here!

summary: tyler asks his best friend to stay with him and his daughter during his recovery

word count: 5.2k

tagging people who interacted with my post: @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @mandypants95 @fallinallincurls @sidscrosbyy @myhockeyworld87 @lilyhood22 @joeyisourranger @je-ne-regrette-rien @youngbeezer @slimdebrusk

“Y/N?” Tyler spoke nervously, you tore your eyes off of the six month old in your arms, she gurgled in complaint as she grabbed at your face, “what’s up?” You asked him, shushing his daughter as she kept pinching your face. He smiled at the sight of you two, “I have to have a couple of surgeries, big surgeries, and I’m going to need a lot of help with Willow.” He explained, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “do you think you could come stay with us for a while?” He finally asked, you nodded instantly, you’d known Tyler ever since he came to Dallas. Long before he ended up as a single father to little Willow. “Of course, Ty.” You assured him, “anything you guys need.” You added, giving him a soft smile as Willow reached for her daddy. “Hi baby girl.” He grinned, smothering her in kisses, “glad you finally wanted to come back to me.” He teased her, holding her above his head as she giggled, the sight alone melted your heart as she grabbed at his beard the second it was in reach. “When is the surgery?” You asked him, you were fortunate enough to run an online shop, so really, as long as you could bring your supplies to his house, which you knew he’d have no problem with, you’d be set.

“Next week,” he paused, glancing over at you, “in New York.” He rushed his words together. “New York?” You gasped, eyes going a little wide. “You don’t have to come!” He stated, “my mom is going to meet me there, and then she’ll fly with me back here.” He explained, “I’ll be gone for a little over a week, then I can rehab here.” He added, realizing he didn’t explain anything very well. “Are you sure you don’t want us there?” You asked, motioning to Willow who was happily laying on his chest, gurgling away, probably close to taking a nap since she just ate. “I do, I really do, but it’s not worth the hassle, she’ll be happier here.” Tyler sighed, resting his chin on top of her head. “I’ll send you a bunch of pictures and videos of her, promise.” You laughed softly, thinking of how crazy this recovery is going to be for him. “You’re going to do great.” You assured him, seeing the wheels turning in his head, “I’m sure of it, and I’ll do anything I can to help.” You murmured, running a hand through your hair as all he could do was muster up a smile.

***

Day 1.

Tyler’s mom FaceTimed you that night, once he was coherent enough to remember seeing his daughter. “Hi, Mrs. Seguin.” You spoke softly, Willow looking around with wide eyes on your lap, you flipped the camera to show her, “Tyler.” His mom mumbled, handing the phone over, he looked exhausted but the way his eyes lit up when he saw Willow, she’d just had a bath so she was only in a diaper, showing off her chunky little legs. “Hey, Willow, hi baby.” He spoke, she focused in on the phone, rapidly swatting at it as she recognized his face. You giggled, moving her around to be sitting more on your chest, her face next to yours. “Say hi.” You cooed to her, waving her hand for her, she bounced excitedly as he smiled at her.

Day 2.

He was a little grumpy that day, but tried not to show it as he got to see Willow via FaceTime again, you knew he was already tired of being unable to move.

Day 3.

You were talking to him encouragely as he walked for the first time in three days, Willow sleeping in her room, Tyler’s mom held the phone out in front of her. You knew it had to be hard for her as well, to see her son like this, all because he was playing the sport he loved. You took some time to talk to her as the nurses helped Tyler get back in bed.

He didn’t feel up to talking again that day so you were sure to send him photos and videos of Willow, she was finally sitting up on her own without falling over.

The next week went on like that until he was finally coming home, luckily it was right during Willow’s long afternoon nap, so you could help him get settled and get everything in order before his mother had to leave to catch a flight tonight.

***

“Hey, Tyler.” You smiled, opening the car door, greeting him brightly, he tried to mimic your eyes excitement, but you could tell it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Hey.” He mumbled, letting out a soft groan as you helped him get out and onto his feet, he gave his mom a hard time about using the wheelchair, you could see the pain floating in her eyes, just overly worried that he would fall. “I’ve got him, Jackie.” You assured, walking directly beside him as he hobbled with his crutches, she nodded, grabbing the bags out of the car as you helped him get inside the house.

“Thank you.” He sighed, leaning into the couch cushion as you put a pillow under his leg. You just gave him a reassuring smile, his mom dropping the stuff by the entryway, “be easy on her, I know it’s hard for you, but imagine if you saw Willow like this.” You added in a whisper, understanding came across his face as he nodded, motioning for her to sit beside him, you let them have their moment as you grabbed his bags and brought them to the room he’d been staying in, on the first floor for now, until stairs weren’t a questionable decision.

You put the clothes in the laundry, and moved some stuff down to the guest room, humming softly as you did this stuff without question, just doing it to be helpful, not thinking of how much the small gesture would really mean to him.

After a while, you peeked in on Willow and she was still sleeping soundly with her arms above her head, you smiled, carefully shutting the door to the nursery and heading down the stairs with the monitor, Jackie had to get going if she was going to make it to the airport in time. So you both said your goodbyes, and you could tell it was hard for Tyler to let her leave like that, but what was he to do, she has a life to get on with as well.

“How has she been while I was gone?” Tyler asked, looking at Willow on the monitor, his heart clenching in his chest, wanting nothing more than to hold his baby girl again. “She was good, Ty.” You giggled, easing his nerves, he nodded, “thank you, so much, I know we just started the recovery process but you’ve already helped so much.” He explained, adjusting himself on the cushions, “you don’t have to keep thanking me, I’m happy to help, I love spending time with her, and you.” He smiled at your words, giving you the side eye as you turned away in embarrassment. You two had always been flirty, but once he came to you and said that was going to be a dad, he changed, he stopped going out, he spent his time at home, and it only made it easier for you to imagine a life with him. “We like spending time with you too.” He whispered, resting his hand on your knee right before Willow started to cry. You could tell he briefly forgot he couldn’t go get her as he went to sit up but then stopped himself. “Don’t worry, I’ll get her.” You hopped up, excited to see her when she finally got to see him for the first time in over a week, you took the stairs two at a time as you heard her crying get more intense.

As you picked her up, you completely forgot that Tyler had the monitor, and could hear and see you tending to her. “Oh my goodness.” You cooed, scooping her up, “your daddy is so excited to see you.” You grinned, kissing her chubby cheeks, making a brief face of disgust as you got a whiff of her diaper, “let’s get you cleaned up first.” You whispered, grabbing her a new outfit, this one having dealt with a small blowout. You quickly changed her and put her in her little jean shorts and a pink shirt, if it wasn’t for you, you were certain Tyler wouldn’t have anything girly for her to wear. He was watching the whole time as you took care of her like she was your own, his heart swelling in his chest, he’d always had a thing for you, but as he saw you with his baby, it only made him fall harder. And he became determined to make you his by the time he was back to playing.

He turned the monitor off and shimmied himself to be sitting up more properly as you came down the stairs, “who is that, Willow?” You gasped, pointing towards Tyler, she began to bounce in your arms. “It’s daddy.” You grinned at her, walking over to him and allowing him to take her. He breathed out in relief, “I missed you so much, baby girl.” He groaned, hugging her tightly, she pushed on him so she could lean back and look at him, she looked at him with a completely serious face before trying to bite his nose. He broke into a fit of laughter as he moved her away from his face, “that’s not nice princess.” He joked, tickling her sides, she giggled swinging her little legs as he lifted her up. “I swear she grew in a week.” He mumbled, sitting her on his good side, she sat on the couch, chewing on her hands and getting drool everywhere. “And she sits now.” He groaned, dramatically resting his head in the couch, she mimicked him and fell into the cushion. “Crazy girl.” You commented, taking the chance while she was distracted to tie up the top part of her hair, she definitely had his hair and all it did was fall in her eyes. Tyler smirked at you, you rolled your eyes at him, “now she looks like a real little princess.” You quipped to him, he faked a gasp, dramatically hoisting her into his chest. “How dare Y/N say that about my princess.”

It was a lot of extra work, and mess, but you brought her jar of food and bib to the couch so Tyler could feed her, knowing it was one of his favorite times with her as she was so smiley. “Have you ever tried this?” Tyler asked curiously as you sat beside him with her in your lap, she happily ate the spoonful of puréed apples, peas and beets. “Baby food?” You asked with a laugh, he nodded, pushing some more into her gummy smile, she gnawed on the spoon as he tried to take it away. “No, I haven’t.” You answered as you contained your laughter, “I tried it once, I figured it couldn’t be so bad, and it was even worse than bad.” He explained, carefully prying the spoon from her hands, she pouted at him, about to cry until he gave her the last bite and let her chew on the soft rubber spoon. “I’m sure it was.” You snickered, lightly wiping around her mouth, “when’s that first tooth gonna come in? Hmm.” He spoke to her, rubbing her little tummy as she burped, he smiled at her, the love he had for her was something only a father and daughter could share, and it was beautiful as you could see the concern on his face as she began to whimper. You let him take her as you went to get rid of the jar and spoon, coming back with her bottle.

“I just changed her, so she should be good for a while after this, is it alright if I go get some work done?” You asked him, he easily nodded as he laid her back on his chest, holding the bottle up to her lips as she eagerly started sucking on it. “Yeah, of course.” He spoke, not hearing you had already started walking away once he nodded, he smiled as you were tying your hair up sloppily while you walked, something you’d always done when you were getting focused on a project.

He turned on the golf channel, sinking into the couch with Willow as she fell asleep once her bottle was empty, he laid her down in the cushion beside him, boxing her in with a rolled up blanket and leaving his hand resting on her as he himself fell asleep.

***

Tyler had been home for a couple of weeks, physical therapy had been stepping up a lot, which meant he was incredibly sore by the time he got home, and incredibly stubborn. He figured, if he could do it just fine with a doctor walking beside him, there was no reason he couldn’t walk ten feet into the bathroom. Well, he quickly found out he was wrong as he stumbled from a pain in his hip and ended up on his knees, cursing as he couldn’t push himself up. You heard him fall, then the sounds of him cursing to himself and you shot up. “Tyler!” You called, rushing towards his room, he felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment as you rounded the corner. “Hey, hey, are you ok?” You gasped kneeling beside him. He shook his head, slumping against the wall in defeat, “what’s wrong?” You asked, looking over him, trying to make sure he didn’t pull any stitches, or injure himself again. “I just can’t get up.” He muttered, slamming his fist on the wall. “I’m a fucking professional athlete and I can’t stand up on my own!” He snapped, he thought you’d move away at the tone of his voice, but you didn’t, you only moved closer, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. “I know, Ty. It’s going to be ok.” You whispered, his breathing was ragged as he finally gave in and hugged you back. He calmed down as you just stayed there, letting him hug you as tight as he needed, you pushed his curly mop of hair back once he completely calmed down. “You ready to get back up again?” You whispered, he nodded watching you stand up and give him your hands. “Just push with your good leg, alright.” You gently reminded him, stepping a little sideways to give your feet some traction. “One, two, three.” You pulled on his hands as he slid up, his back against the wall steadying him, he planted both feet on the ground, you quickly grabbed his crutches.

“I’ll just wait until you’re back in bed.” You mumbled, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he nodded, hobbling to the bathroom right outside the room. Your adrenaline high quickly crashed as you waited for him, and you found yourself laying flat on the bed as you waited.

Tyler came back into the room, stopping in the doorway as he saw you stretched out on half of the bed. A smile came over his face as you shifted in your sleep, burying half your face in the pillow, inhaling softly as you felt at peace. He didn’t wake you, he couldn’t bring himself too, so he carefully got into the opposite side of the bed, the thumping in his chest so loud he was certain you could feel it as you subconsciously rolled towards him, resting your hand on his chest as he threw the blanket over you.

Eventually, morning came, and when you woke up in the empty bed, the events of last night came rushing back and you leaped out of bed, not only was Willow crying from her room, but you didn’t see Tyler anywhere, you instantly became worried he’d fallen again and you’d slept right through it. “Y/N?” Tyler called as you went rushing past the kitchen looking for him. “Tyler!” You gasped in relief, placing a hand over your chest as you saw him pouring a cup of coffee. “I thought you fell again, oh my god, where did you sleep? Oh, the baby, let me get the baby!” You rambled heading for the stairs, he chuckled as he listened to you stomp up them, Willow’s crying soon stopping as you picked her up.

He was feeling a little better today, so he managed to get Willow’s morning bottle ready, and some toast for himself, settling himself at the table as you came down the steps. Your hair was tangled in itself, you didn’t have makeup on, and you were in oversized sweats and a tank top, but you’d never looked better to him as you giggled with his daughter on your hip.

You called his name as you walked into the kitchen, spotting him at the table, he didn’t answer, but his eyes were pointed in your direction, “Tyler?” You called again, snapping your fingers. He blinked, “what? Sorry.” Tyler muttered sheepishly, “did you want eggs?” You asked him, eyeing him suspiciously as you maneuvered Willow in your arms to give her her bottle. She happily started drinking it as you propped it up on your cheek, pulling the eggs out of the fridge. “Give her to me.” Tyler chuckled, making grabby hands for her as you struggled to balance everything, you happily gave her over, glancing back as he cooed down to her, whispering a good morning as he kissed her messy head of his hair, they looked so like in that moment, Tyler with his hair sticking all over the place, and Willow with hers pushed to the side from you, with a clip barely holding it back.

“I’m not sure if you’re up to it, or if you want to, but I was going to go to the pumpkin patch later today, if you and Willow want to come?” You offered, “I know you hate having to use that wheelchair but it would be so fun to see her next to all those giant pumpkins.” You raddled on, giving Tyler the chance to admire you, “yeah, that sounds fun.” He answered, smiling when you turned to face him excitedly, “I’m sure you have some cute outfit for her planned out too.” He rolled his eyes jokingly, and you nodded eagerly, of course you did, how could you not, it is her first fall season after all.

“Here ya go.” You mumbled, sliding a plate in front of him, he furrowed his eyebrows, “I never answered about the eggs.” He didn’t argue though, as he picked up his fork and took a bite. “I know, but you’re doing a lot today, you need them.” You giggled, offering a small piece to Willow, now nearly eight months old. She happily mushed it with her couple of teeth, smiling brightly at Tyler, he nodded reassuring her that she was doing good.

Finally you were loading up into the car to go out for a while, Willow dressed in the cutest outfit she had, something you’d bought before she was even born. The belle sleeve onesie just barely still fit her chunky frame, and the red overall skirt over top just made her look even more adorable, and of course, a matching red bow in her hair. Tyler jokingly didn’t approve of how short her skirt was as he took her from you once you arrived, she sat perched on his lap as you pushed the wheelchair down the isles, thankful for the wood boards they had put down as paths in the dirt, Willow was making noises at everything she saw, reaching out to touch the pumpkins every once in a while. “Let me get a picture of you two.” You stopped his chair next to a huge pile of pumpkins, and he stood Willow up on his lap as she grinned at you, it was by far one of your favorite photos of them so far.

An older couple was walking by and smiled at you, “would you like me to take a photo for you?” She asked, and before you could even process her words, Tyler was answering with a yes please. You felt the blood rush to your face as you approached him, he handed Willow to you, and you were about to stand beside him but he gently pulled you to sit on his good leg, you didn’t have time to react, you only smiled for the camera just like he was. “Oh, how beautiful.” The older woman cheered, handing the phone back over to you. “Thanks.” You mumbled, Willow hiding her face in your neck, suddenly shy. You clicked on the picture, and you felt like your chest would explode, you looked like a family, but you weren’t. “Y/N?” Tyler called, you quickly shoved your phone in your pocket, “are you ready to go?” He asked, taking the baby back from you, confusion laced in his tone as he saw the look on your face. “Yeah, Uh, yeah let’s go.” You mumbled, pushing the chair towards the exit, he held in a sigh, trying to figure out what had caused your sudden mood change.

***

“It’s Christmas!” You heard Tyler cheer as he got Willow out of her crib, the nine month old clapping her hands out of his excitement. Tyler was on the upside now, his second surgery complete, and now rehabbing both, he was able to walk without his crutches, he had to go slow on the stairs, but the doctor encouraged him to keep working on them. In a few weeks he’s going to be skating for the first time in months, and you were terrified, meanwhile he was ecstatic, ready to feel like his normal self again. You smiled, keeping your eyes shut as your door opened, “it’s Christmas!” Tyler shouted, putting Willow on the bed and letting her crawl up to your head, mushing on your cheeks, you gasped lifting her up quickly, sending her into a fit of giggles in her reindeer pajamas. “Christmas? Your first one!” You spoke to her, Tyler smiled, sitting beside you. “Merry Christmas.” He whispered, handing you an envelope, he laughed as you put Willow down and quickly pushed yourself to be sitting against the headboard beside him. She made her little baby babble as she played with the bunched up blanket. “You didn’t have to get me anything.” You spoke softly, opening the envelope, revealing a gorgeous Christmas card. “Oh shush, just read it.” You could hear the nerves in his tone, you shot him a smile before letting your eyes run over the extensive writing he’d done.

“Y/N, you have been a godsend in mine and Willow’s life, there isn’t anyone else I would’ve trusted to leave her with during all of this, there isn’t anyone else I’d want to be helping me off the floor at three am. What I’m trying to get at is,

There isn’t anyone else. I don’t think there will be anyone else.

So, if you’d kindly accept my gift, dinner, without Willow, a date, that’s what I’d like to call it.

Love, Tyler.”

“What’s the matter, Seguin? Too afraid to ask me in person?” You quipped, he opened and closed his mouth searching for the right words to say, “is that a yes?” He finally asked, a hopeful look dancing in his eyes. “Of course it’s a yes. I’ve only been waiting months for you to ask.” You giggled, catching him off guard by pecking his lips, it isn’t like you two hadn’t shared kisses before, but it was normally in a drunken state. “Uh-huh.” He hummed pulling you back in for a proper kiss, Willow shrieked, startling you both. She was looking at you angrily, before snuggling up to her dad, as if saying you weren’t allowed near him. “Good job, princess, gotta protect daddy from mean ol’ Y/N.” He murmured to her, earning a glare from you, but as he broke into laughter, you couldn’t even keep up your charades. “Come on, it’s Christmas, she’s got presents to open.” You mumbled, kissing her chubby cheek, “presents!” He cheered, holding her up highly, she giggled as he lunged her back down.

The date had gone as good as you could’ve hoped,

not exactly how he’d planned, but still a great night, the sitter had cancelled, and the restaurant he wanted to take you too didn’t offer a pick up option, so you ended up eating pizza on the living room floor, watching Disney movies, per your request, and talking about everything and anything. And of course, there were lots of stolen kisses.

***

“It’s alright to be a little scared you know.” You reminded your now boyfriend, he was about to go on the ice for the first time in months, and the anxiety just hit him, what if’s repeating themselves in his head. Willow was fast asleep in the stroller, tired from her own activities this morning. “But–“ “No but, you’ve got this babe, you’ve been warming up to this for months, hell, you probably skate better than you walk.” You cut him off, giving him a short pep talk, you squealed in delight when he pulled you in for a quick kiss. You pulled away with a smile, “now, go show that ice whose boss.” You giggled, pecking him once more before patting his shoulder, you weren’t allowed to watch him rinkside, no distractions allowed, so you took Willow for a short walk, all the while she slept. You kept yourself busy, getting caught up with things on your phone as you waited for Tyler to call and say he was done.

Finally as you went back to get him, Willow was awake but grumpy, and hungry, so you kind of just rushed in with her on your hip. Also remembering you had some stuff to do for work today that was time sensitive, “how’d it go?” You asked as you bounced her in an attempt to get her to calm down. Tyler slung his bag over his shoulder, “it was great, rusty, but it felt good.” He explained shortly, sending your urgency, “I’ll put her in the car.” He offered, taking her from you, and instantly she calmed down, only making you feel worse. You knew it was common for her to go through phases, hell, she’d done this with Tyler where she wanted nothing to do with him for almost a whole month, you didn’t realize how bad it would hurt. He shot you an apologetic smile, “hey, just take a deep breath. You’re gonna get everything done on time.” He assured you.

***

New Years had come and gone, and Willow’s first birthday was quickly approaching, as were her first steps. Tyler was sad that they were going to be happening so soon, but at the same time he was beyond excited for her to be running around in no time.

She quickly grew out of the phase of only wanting Tyler, which both of you were grateful for, as he could see it eating away at you.

“Come on, come to dada.” You heard Tyler, you peeked your head around the wall, seeing him sitting on the floor arms reach away from Willow, she looked at him quizzically, reaching her arms out, she wobbled but didn’t fall. “Come on baby.” He encouraged her, she took one step, two, three, and he just kept sliding back until she couldn’t go any further. “Oh my god!” You and Tyler shouted at the same time, “shit,” he jumped now knowing you were behind him. “Hi.” You laughed, sitting beside him, “I think you officially have a walker on your hands.” You told him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He furrowed his brows for a moment, he looked as if he was going to say something, but then decided against it. “Yeah I do.” He chuckled in agreement, setting her back on her feet and grinning as she did it again, and again, and again until she was too tired to do anymore and just plopped herself on your lap.

“Hi baby.” You mumbled, kissing her forehead, she sighed, nuzzling into your neck, instantly falling asleep. “She loves you.” Tyler mumbled, tucking your loose hair behind your hair, you bit your lip as you looked over at him. “I love you.” He breathed out, relief hitting him when you broke into a huge smile, “I love you, Ty.” You mumbled, he kissed you as good as he could with Willow curled up on your lap. “Let’s go put her to bed, yeah.” He laughed, taking her from you and disappearing to her room in record speed.

***

Tyler had his first morning skate today, finally getting back into a routine with the team, he was anxious as it was on a Saturday, thankfully no game today, but it was Willow’s birthday party. Of course, all planned by you, Tyler clueless on what to do for a one year old, all he knew is it had to be puppy themed, because those were her absolute favorite things.

“Woah.” Tyler stopped in his tracks, seeing the decorations you’d spread out around the house, his dogs happily laying with party hats on their heads. “Baby, this is awesome.” He chuckled as you came around the corner to greet him, “I know it is.” You laughed, welcoming the hug he offered you. “Thanks for doing all this for her.” He mumbled against your head, “of course.”

***

“Dada, dada, dada!” Willow shrieked running towards him, “Willow?” He gasped, his first game back resulting in a loss, but he scored and you couldn’t lie, it made you emotional. And he was all the clueless to you two being here, “surprise!” You grinned as he scooped her up, “you came?” He mumbled in shock, kissing his daughter before pulling you in with his other arm, “of course we came.” You whispered against his lips, smiling as he finally kissed you, “you did so amazing, babe, I’m so proud of you.” You cupped his jaw with one hand, “thank you.” Is all he could get out before Willow started to speak. She reached for you, “mama.” Your breathing hitched, and Tyler’s smile had grown. You looked to him, afraid to over step, “yes baby, that’s mama.” He assured her, “Tyler.” You cautioned, taking her as she kept reaching for you.

“Y/N, she’s just as much yours as she is mine, you’ve been here since she came home, you’ve taken care of her like a mother, and I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon. So yes. You’re her mom.” His words brought tears to your eyes, he smiled softly wiping away the tears, kissing your forehead as Willow watched curiously, she kissed your cheek with a smile, having learned early on to be affectionate to people she liked. “Thank you baby,” you cooed to her, resting your head on top of hers. “Mama?” She hummed, smiling against you. “Yeah.” You agreed. “I love you.” Tyler sighed, snapping a picture of his girls, he said the words right before he snapped the picture, getting the most genuine smile from you. “I love you.”

taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo @calgarycanuck

#tyler seguin #imagine #imagines #Tyler seguin imagine #Tyler seguin imagines #Tyler seguin fic #Tyler seguin story #Dallas stars

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 3 years

Note

Could I get a fluff imagine where Levi Ackerman is dating a tall reader like 5’8/5’9 and Levi gets a little insecure about his height because he heard some people making comments and really thought about it and then the reader comforts him and tell him she gets insecure sometimes too but it’s worth it because she loves that she can hug Levi and he’s just covered in her body and other things that normally a tall male would do in a relationship she just really enjoys that she can do that. Thanks❤️

Hi, you have no idea for how long I've been writing this. I hope I did some justice to my fellow taller friends out there. And I hope everyone reading this can enjoy, thank you for requesting❤

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: fluff, really just fluffity fluff, taller reader, canonverse

Top of The Shelf

"Can you reach that cup for me (y/n)?"

The soft welcoming smile painted on your face that served as the signal of your comply to his demand sent jolts through Levi's chest. His own grumpy expression didn't allow him to show his gratitude the way his words could although he knew you could read through him.

It went like that on normal days. Little acts of affection as in tangling in sheets together, helping him clean the kitchen after a loose Saturday night for the scout regiment, blending and infusing tea leaves to make your own creation; Levi's love language to you was genuine and tender, despite what everyone else chose to see in his otherwise stoic demeanor.

It wasn't unusual for him to be a little distant or silent. The stoic moodiness and the sass that he carried in his presence were reliefs of anxiety and coping mechanisms that no one would have guessed as had they not known him like you did. It wasn't unnatural to not get a response or to see an eye roll or two by him, he was always caught up in his work, always trying to succeed in his role and honor his dead and today shouldn't have been an exception as to how his usual mood was.

Yet for the upteenth time this evening he sighed. And you noticed.

"You know what, no." He snarled "I'll get it on my own."

The little snapping of his voice along with the the clicking of his tongue shouldn't have been bizzare to you, but it was. Thus instantly your eyes fell to his hands. Erratic fingers scratched the marble counter with jolting movements, hoisting a wet rug that soon was tossed to the side, prompting the sound of his annoyed voice to higher levels.

"You alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

For mere seconds, his cold, gunmetal gaze fell on you, lips puckered and scrunched in the most bitter way he could master. It wasn't entirely directed to you, that much was obvious, but it still made your gut churn to an extent. Specs of anxiety tinted the insides of your stomach in what felt like dark maroon. With the pucker of your own lips, you were the first to turn your gaze to the side.

"Move just a bit to the left" He said.

You nodded slightly, gaze still so far way and fixed on a corner of the floor, and adjusted your hand to the small of his waist to steady yourself. What should have caused him to sink his head to your shoulder only earned you a loud and sharp click of his tongue. Slowly you moved your eyes towards him, your gaze and heavy chest submitted to the slight asphyxiation in the atmosphere.

You blinked as you eyed him up and down; the flats of his heels were arched in the painful binding leather of the brown military boots, the muscles of his feet pulsating slightly each time he bucked and tip toed again. You were fully aware that he could feel your eyes on him, still he turned to you with a puckered lower lip once his heels came flat to the mahogany tiles with a loud clicking sound.

"I can't reach it."

"Clearly. Jeez Levi. I got it. Please don't snap about minor things."

"I'm not snapping. But if you haven't noticed I'm always ready to snap"

"I know, I know" You shook your head and laughed.

The pouty little gaze on his face didn't ease like you expected, it was accentuated by two ebony furrowed brows and a set of overly shadowed wrinkles. His hands came to cross over his chest, flexing the bulky muscles of his chest as they tightned, twitching slightly as his shirt wrinkled below his hands. Down below, his foot tapped obnoxiously, indicating the slight nervousness of his presence.

You could only eye him, cup in hand and a soft expression on your face. Your eyebrow was cocked high on your forehead in a silent request, your gingered tapping onto the porcelain cup in synch to his foot. Clearly what was in the air was becoming so strong that it felt like you were on the edge of a cliffcliff with no room to escape.

"Care to tell me what's going on?" You whispered and everted your eyes from his frame, searching for the mettalic kettle that you had washed a little while ago.

"Tch"

"Just a click of the tongue Levi?"

"It's nothing"

Levi was quick to dismiss you, his own eyes daring to reach the wooden tiles of the floor, following across the swirly lines of honey colored wood. His brain felt scattered into a million pieces, the cause of his anxiety roamed inside his brain like a wide eyed ogre that feastes of off the rise of insecurities. But what he felt was his own problem? Wasn't it?

He rolled his eyes at his own thoughts once again. If only those cadets hadn't run their nosy mouths into his relationship, if only he hadn't heard that one repetitive comment on that one morning he was drained physically, maybe he wouldn't have ever doubted himself. It wasn't like him to feel like that, Levi knew his place in the world, he knew who he was and he didn't care about anyone else's shitty view on him. What he couldn't tolerate was you being looked down upon because of him.

If he was one to be more open with his feelings he would choose to talk about it. It was a couple-y thing. You shared your insecurities with him and he has shared almost everything he can remember from his life with you. It should have felt easy for him to just spill the beans on how he felt so low compared to you.

But it wasn't.

Instead of running his big mouth, he decided he would help you make tea. Whatever inadequaty he felt wasn't because of you, if he was too short it was his own fault, his own problem. Not yours, not anyone's else's. And therefore it shouldn't have affected him in such way. Nevertheless, he fixed his eyes on you again, eyeying you from head to toe. Maybe you were tall for him. With the way your legs and arms were longer than his. Letely he had found himself comparing the way his feet seemed small next to yours, though still bulky and full due to his training.

"Here" He offered "let me make our tea"

His fingers came to reach for the handle of the kettle, tagging it slightly off your hands. You gave him a soft smile, just enough to accentuate the nod of your head to his direction.

"Whatever you say apple pie." You teased.

Levi slightly eyes you from the corner of his eye. He couldn't help but scoff slightly in amusement, the soft glimmer in your eyes was warm, softly burning in the hues of the candlelight. The stiff line of happiness formed a little bump on your left cheek, not enough to be called a dimple it no less that a crevice.

Levi let out a other huff of air through his nose. His hand teacher for the handle of the tap, pumping the metallic object with a few swings and twists of his wrist. Water poured out of the end of the tap and into the kettle, the calming sounds of water flowing in the vessel calming you slightly as you thought about how the that was about to be made would be a dear, calming beverage.

Setting the kettle to the side of the counter, Levi placed both his hands on the edge of it and hung his head low. Your eyes softened as you eyed him again; the man looked drained and tired, a rather usual look for him one could say, but in the very moment, he looked like it was tons more than what should have been usually. Your hand reaches out to him again instinctively and as it landed on his shoulder you softly squeezed the spot protectively.

"Pass me the tea leaves" Levi spoke and his eyes we're squeezed shut. "At least you can reach them."

You giggled at him as you opened the cupboard again, grabbing thin air with the palm of your hand, trying to take a hold of the jar you were looking for. Once you took a hold you it your face lit up, and you turned to him again with gleamy eyes. The candlelight glimmered slightly as you pushed the door to the cupboard closed

His fingers worked on the lid of the jar next, twisting the thin cover in circular motions of his wrist. You watched with half lid, adorning eyes as the tips of his fingers reached for a handful of the aromatic, dry leaves in the jar. Levi eyed you momentarily from the corner of his eyes and looked at the task he had set to himself previously. He sighed deeply, letting a mellow higher pitch note of his voice escape him.

"You love me too much don't you?" He questioned, eyebrow cocked to the middle of his forehead, still his gaze was fixed on how his fingers were meddling with tea leaves as they were giving occasional stirs to the blend.

"Mhm" You nodded with a smile.

He slid his hand out of the jar sharply, only to set the leaves into the infuser that was resting to the rim of the porcelain tea pot, giving them a little suppresssing push, to squish then just enough to stay tamed until he poured the water in.

"Off to my quarters." He said.

He handed you the porcelain cups, taking a hold of the kettle and the tea pot in turn. With a soft thud, he set the pace of the footing for you, though he signed with the turn of his head for you to go first. You walked ahead with no objection.

....

Levi sighed again, just after you set the cups on the wooden surface of his desk. Your eyes couldn't help but fall on him with coherence, eyeing him as he threw a few logs into the wilding flames of his fireplace. He pushed them further inside, careful not to cause ashes to spread all over the room, then he turned his gaze to you once again.

"The water should boil in a couple of minutes." He said, and plopped his palm flat onto his desk.

"What do you want to do until then?"

Your face formed in a small outline of a smile as you walked towards the ravenette, your eyes squinted softly the moment you laid them onto him. You wrapped your arms around his form from behind, slowly, racing them over his torso as in his body was something to explore before you clasped your palms together to secure your embrace.

"You're so cute when you're aggravated like that"

"Tch"

With the click of his tongue, Levi rolled his eyes at you, the inside of his cheek quickly sandwiched between his teeth. He looked to the side of your hand, his eyes traveling over the deemly lit outline of your clasped palms. His tongue darted, flat as it was, to rub on his pallette, feeling all the little bumpy lines of tissue as the bitter and unwanted taste of sadness engulfed his misbehaving taste buds.

It was too infuriating to even think about it.

"Oh come on."

In the most cutesy way, you rubbed your chin to the top of his head, then softly pulled him closer so that his back, or rather the top of his shoulders, came to slightly press against you. This earned another grit of Levi's teeth.

"Tch"

"Stop clicking your tongue Leviii" You pushed your lips together as your eyes squinted happily.

You rubbed your chin on him again, then your cheek, scrunching your nose slightly as the pleasant smell of his soap reached your nostrils. Your lips quickly found their way to the top of his hairline, where you placed numerous kisses, the muffled kissing sounds echoing around the room.

"Stop."

"No, you stop being grumpy, just tell me what's going on."

Levi clicked his tongue again and sighed. His chest rose and fell sharply, a strong huff of air escaped his nose as he gulped dryly.

It was now or never.

He didn't have anything to be afraid of, plus, conversing about his problems with his significant other was something everyone had suggested to him. And after thinking about for the whole evening, he felt like he could talk about it with you.

Although, what he wanted to say came way more aggressively than he had planned to. The click of his tongue and the roll of his eyes were groundbreaking proof of that.

"Doesn't this fuckshit bother you?"

"Huh?" You cocked your eyebrow "what fuckshit?"

"I bet you'd rather be in my place right now."

Levi wiggled his index finger underneath your palms, breaking the knot of your hands over his chest, while he span himself sternly around and right before you.

"Be in your place? How?"

"Wouldn't you rather be kissed at the top of your hair? And pushed on a chest?"

Grey eyes blinked in yours with long pauses, thin lips faced you as they were being pushed into a hurt filled pucker, arched eyebrows creasing at the soft spot over his narrow nose bridge. Had you not been thinking about how to even answer to him, you would be giggling at this soft, child like pout all over his face.

"Levi!"

"Don't Levi me just answe-"

You almost jumped on the spot as the kettle went off. The loud whistle filled the room proudly, seeking your utmost attention immediately. Levi's quick feet wasted no time to take him the few steps to the fireplace, his gaze angrily straining away off yours. He was aware he looked like a grumpy imbecile child and he utterly hated it; it wasn't like him to act so hurt over things he had never cared about otherwise.

"Levi do you think I'd rather be you because I'm taller? I thought you didn't really care about such superficial things?"

"I don't!"

Levi crouched down before the fireplace, his hand darting off to the metallic kettle. He hissed profoundly once he felt the intolerable heat lick over his hand.

With a snap he pulled it back, huffing a puff of air as he angrily shaked it vigorously for the heat of the fireplace to quickly spread away. He looked at you, lips pressed into a thin line, orbs blinking at you then the glove that was at the side of the fireplace.

"Then?"

With a soft smile and a chuckle, you passed the glove to him.

"I don't know!"

"Levi," You crouched down right next to him "did you hear those cadets the other day?"

"I did, you think they aren't right? Am I not too small for you?"

You couldn't help it; a teeny giggle escaped your chest. Your hands came to the floor, holding your weight on them as you pushed your weight down through your bum. With a loud thud, you say down the floor right next to Levi, your hand coming to the wider top of his back.

"I love you for who you are." You said and kissed the top of his shoulder.

"I know that."

Levi's heart skipped a beat at your words.

"And I love how I can push you into my chest and kiss the top of your head. And you hold me too, don't let some brats make you feel like you're less for me."

Your heavy breath was tainted by the soft whisper of your voice as you spoke quietly. Your eyes lingered onto levis palms as they worked to pour the hot water in to the teapot, then pushing and stirring the little blend of tea leaves onto the strainer. With a whoosh, you pressed your head to the top of his shoulder, rubbing your cheek slightly over the spot.

"I feel like such a runt." He clicked his tongue "Worrying about someone else's words."

"Oh come on, you have the right to feel that way too you know."

Levis hand came to cup the side of your face his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek slightly. His head came to rest on top of your head, the side of his head abrading with your own. A soft hum of satisfaction coming out of the depths of his chest. You caved into his touch, feeling your heart fall slowly to the depths of your chest, slipping between each and every cavity of your bones.

The soft warmth of the flames engulfed your relaxed forms, urging you to softly melt into each other, despite the slight awkwardness of your current position. Levi's eyes softened at processing your previous statements; your hand was rubbing soft circles on his back, your fingered lingered on every little scar of his despite the presence of his cotton button down shirt.

You loved him.

Who cared about any other insulting thing that had been said for his person.

You really loved him. And he loved you back.

As much as he'd liked to whine about feeling inadequate for a brief moment, his mind stayed fixated on the fact that you loved him for who he was. Whining about something as mundane as his height only felt unnecessary and bratty before the significance of those three small words.

"Come on, serve that tea so we can go lay on your bed and cuddle."

You couldn't see the way his lips curled up slightly at the warm tone of your voice.

"I need those cups first brat." He chuckled, still he didn't make any effort to move at all.

"But I don't want to move from your arms."

"Yeah," He sighed "I don't either."

Taglist: @sasageyowrites @ackermans-freedom-inc @puredivinity @levisbrat25 @callmepromise @nobody-knows-anymore @berrijam @ladyofpandemonium @lzrers

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #aot #snk #snk x reader #aot x reader #levi aot #levi attack on titan #snk imagine #snk season 4 #shingeki no kyojin x reader #attack on titan imagines

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writethelifeyouwant · 3 years

Text

Red

Summary: Y/N has been having an infuriating dry spell in the love department lately, thanks to lockdown, and her roommate Jensen is getting fed up with her attitude. So, he lets her in on a little secret…

Pairing: Danneel x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: female masturbation, talk of male masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk, praise kink, light degradation, lockdown was hard on singletons but great for phone sex operators Word Count: 4.5k Created for: @anyfandomgoesbingo - Sex Hotline AU | @spnkinkbingo - Tribbing

A/N: Requested by @danneelsmain - hope this lived up to your expectations babe! I haven't written Danneel before but I really enjoyed writing this ❤️

“Yes... yes... yesyesyes–”

“Hey, Y/N!” Bang, bang, bang! “Hurry up in there will ya? I’m dyin’ here,” Jensen jiggled the doorknob to no avail, and Y/N was incredibly thankful she’d remembered to lock it this time.

I’m dying here, Y/N thought to herself, pulling the shower head from between her legs with a frustrated huff, the water swirling down the drain carrying the fading vestiges of her almost-orgasm with it. She had been so close. Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Just a minute!” she shouted, frustration tipping over into anger. The knob on the faucet was twisted to the ‘off’ position with unnecessary violence, and the shower curtain was attached at one less ring than it had been half an hour ago when it was yanked open to settle against the back wall of the tub.

Bang! Ban–

“Seriously, Jensen?!” Y/N barely had the towel secured around herself before she threw open the door, hastily ducking to avoid Jensen’s knock-in-progress.

“Thank fuck.” Jensen danced around Y/N and shoved the door shut, sending Y/N slipping across the tiles on her still-wet feet and locking her on the other side. The clearly audible hiss of Jensen relieving himself leaked through the door and Y/N growled in frustration, aiming a kick at the door before stomping down the hallway to her room.

He couldn’t have waited ten more seconds…

It had been bad enough that lockdown got them all stuck at home with no possibility of one night stands, or follow-up booty calls to keep her sex drive in check, but now Y/N was having an even bigger problem. She hadn’t been able to get herself over the finish line for at least two weeks, and she had no earthly idea as to why. Y/N was beginning to think that regular orgasms were part of the reason that she was usually nice to be around, because right now she felt like she was one bad joke away from stabbing somebody.

And that someone was likely to be Jensen.

Tucked up into the corner of the couch was Y/N’s standard position these days. She wasn’t sure what was playing on the TV, something as mindless as she felt right now.

“Budge up.” Jensen hit her feet and flopped back gracelessly on top of them without giving her the chance to move them.

“Ow, asshole!” A pillow whipped through the air and collided squarely with the side of Jensen’s face.

“What is your problem lately?”

“You, clearly,” Y/N snapped, pulling her knees into her chest defensively. Jensen raised a single eyebrow, giving her a pointed look. “No, it’s not you,” Y/N admitted, letting some of her aggression seep out of her frame with her words. “Sorry.”

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, it’s fine.”

There was a stiff silence between them, Jensen waiting for Y/N to break and answer his question and Y/N knowing that she didn’t want to talk about this with Jensen but not seeing a way out of the conversation. Jensen had an irritating habit of getting her to open up about things she never planned on telling people – like the fact that she was gay. And now he was about to hear far more about her sex life than she ever wanted to share with someone of the male species.

“I’m, um,” her cheeks were on fire as she glanced up to see Jensen looking back at her with concerned curiosity. “I’m… having a problem,” she finished lamely.

“Okay…”

“I can’t… Do you ever–” Y/N choked on the words every time they tried to bubble through. “So… um, it’s– it’s been a while.” She saw comprehension flash over Jensen’s freckled face a moment later.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You know PornHub has a whole section for lesbian shit, right?” Another pillow hits him in the face. “Okay, okay, ow,” Jensen rubs his jaw in exaggeration. “But seriously, it’s been a while for everyone. You just gotta take business into your own hands.”

“You don’t think I’ve been doing that?” Y/N hissed, unconsciously checking around them as if someone else was in their apartment who might overhear.

“Well then what’s the problem?”

“I haven’t like,” Y/N made a variety of nonsequitous hand motions that had no bearing on the word ‘orgasm’ but Jensen seemed to get the message.

“How long?” he cringed.

“Like, almost three weeks? And it’s not like I haven’t been trying like, everything, I just… can’t,” she shrugged helplessly. “Has this kind of thing ever happened to you? Is there something like, physically wrong with me?”

“No, no, I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with you,” Jensen rushed to reassure her, patting her leg awkwardly. “This kind of thing happens all the time.”

“So it’s happened to you too?” Hope shone from Y/N’s face that maybe she wasn’t doomed to a life empty of sexual pleasure.

“Well… no, not exactly.” Y/N’s shoulders drooped, hopes slashed.

“How are you staying so sane?” Y/N accused. “You used to be with a different girl every few days before all of this.”

“Hey! I was not,” Jensen was mock offended but Y/N could tell he was also a little proud. “And I’ve, uh… I’ve got my sources,” his eyes twinkled mischievously as he answered her question.

“Jensen Ross Ackles, have you been sneaking out behind my back!”

“No,” he rolled his eyes, “nothing like that.” Jensen pulled out his phone and started scrolling through the screen as Y/N watched.

“Jen, if you’re trying to show me porn, I’m good. Don’t need to see what you get off to,” Y/N shuddered at the thought. A text beeped on her phone a second later, Jensen’s name popping up on the screen.

“That’s my source,” he explains and she opens the message to see a 1-800 number, next to the word Red.

“Red?”

“Red.” Jensen confirmed with a wicked grin, nodding sagely.

Y/N could not believe she was about to do this. She looked down at the number on her phone screen, ready to dial as soon as she pressed the little green button. Jensen’s assurances echoed in her head. Best phone sex I’ve ever had… she actually gets off with you, she’s not just faking it… sounds so hot, and her body is killer in her profile pic. Admittedly, the picture he’d shown her had been really fucking sexy. A slender girl in small red panties and unfairly pretty breasts cradled in a satin bra covered in little hearts, dark red hair pinned up around her face in a vintage style.

Before she could talk herself out of it again, Y/N pressed dial and held the phone up to her ear. It rang a few times before connecting to an automated menu, and Y/N was secretly relieved she wouldn’t have to ask an operator if she could speak to ‘Red’.

Thank you for calling the Sugar Lips Hotline. Please enter your card details to continue.

Jensen had warned her about this part, so she had her card sitting out of her wallet on the desk in front of her.

If you know who you are trying to reach, please press one. If you would like to be assigned a random operator, please press two.

Y/N shakily pressed the number one, and then put the phone on speaker while she was at it.

If you would like to speak with Candy, press one, followed by the pound key. If you would like to speak with Kitty, press two, followed by the pound key. If you would like to speak with Lance…

Y/N wondered if she would still have the confidence to go through with this by the time the robotic voice mentioned ‘Red’.

If you would like to speak with Red, press thirteen, followed by the pound key.

The moment of truth. Y/N entered the number 13 and then pressed the pound key. The line began to ring again.

“Hi there,” a temptingly soft voice slipped through the receiver of the phone sitting on the desk in front of her.

“Hi-i,” Y/N’s voice was jarring in comparison, breaking on the first word she uttered.

“Oh, so I’ve got a pretty little girl on the line today, huh?” Y/N didn’t know how to answer so she didn’t, hands frozen in a death grip on the sleeves of her too big sweatshirt. “What’s your name, baby?”

“Y/N,” she whispered back, suddenly scared that Jensen would be able to hear every word being said in her room. Quickly digging into her pockets she pulled out her headphones and plugged them into her cell. Why hadn’t she done that earlier?

“That’s such a pretty name, baby,” the woman cooed, and now her voice was right against Y/N’s ears; it felt like she was in the room, whispering against her skin. “I’m Red.”

“That’s what I should call you?” Y/N managed to keep the tremor out of her words this time.

“Unless you want to call me something else? I can be whoever you want me to be baby girl. Mommy, ma’am, mistress…” Y/N’s heart thundered against her ribs. She realised that she had no idea what she wanted from this – she just knew she was desperate. “Or maybe you want to be in charge? I could be your baby, your good little girl.” Y/N wished she could see Red right now, watch what she looked like as she purred all these promises down the line, teasing and tempting.

“Is,” Y/N gulped, “is there anyone you want me to be?”

“Nuh-uh,” she tutted, and Y/N could imagine her shaking her head, red curls flying by her cheeks. “This is all about you Y/N. I’m here to make you feel good.”

Y/N felt a lick of heat curl in the base of her stomach, twisting itself around her intestines.

“Yeah, I could use that,” she laughed nervously, figuring she should be honest if she wanted this to work out well. And she really needed it to.

“Oh, have you been feeling a little pent up baby?” Red’s voice echoed in Y/N’s ears. The small vibrations coming out of her earbuds were enough to start sending a pulsing sensation down the side of her neck, worming its way under her skin and into her veins. Christ, it had been too long.

“You have no idea.”

“Well, I betcha we can fix that. Are you somewhere comfortable sweetie?”

“I could get on the bed?” Y/N offered, wondering why she hadn’t started there in the first place, rather than at her desk.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Red purred seductively. “Why don’t you stretch out on the bed, get yourself nice and cozy. Maybe prop a pillow up next to you and think about me snuggling you in real close. Wish I could be there to put my hands all over your body.”

Y/N was thankful she was already sitting on her bed by the time Red finished painting her little scene because if she’d been walking, she’s pretty sure her knees would have given out.

“Fuck, it’s been so long since I felt another girl’s hands on me.” She tried not to be embarrassed at how whimpery her voice had gone. If this went well it was about to get a whole lot worse anyways.

“I want to touch every inch of you,” Red breathed heavily. “Run my fingers through your hair, over your neck, down your back. Would I find a bra there to unhook, baby?”

“Yeah,” Y/N sighed, arching her shoulders and feeling the band scratch taught around her ribs, pushing her breast up towards her chin.

“Why don’t you take that off for me?”

“Okay,” Y/N felt her voice shake as much as her hands as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, breathing deeply when the pressure of the garment disappeared.

“Bet that felt good, didn’t it baby?” Red laughed knowingly.

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed, loosening up a little at the acknowledgement of a shared experience, something all girls could relate to. She pulled her arms through the straps beneath her sweatshirt and shimmying the discarded bra out the bottom before pushing her arms back through her sleeves. The peaks of her nipples tightened as they caught on the pills of fleece that now sat against her chest.

“What else are you wearing?”

Suddenly embarrassed she hadn’t thought to put on anything sexy in preparation for this call, Y/N didn’t manage more than an “um…” before Red laughed, a warm sound that melted into her like chocolate against your tongue.

“Why don’t I tell you what I’m wearing?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded before she remembered that Red couldn’t see her. “Bet it’s something really sexy,” she attempted to flirt, cringing at how awkward she sounded.

“Well that depends,” Red mused. “Do you like lace?”

“Yeah,” Y/N breathed. She loved seeing girls in lace lingerie; the way the delicate weave of the pattern offered small tastes of the skin it covered, the way you could feel someone’s warmth seeping through such a thin fabric so easily, the way it felt to have someone touch you or suck you through such a meagre sheet of modesty…

“What about stockings?” Red voice broke through Y/N’s train of thought, pulling her back to the vaguely out of body experience she was having.

“Love them,” Y/N answered quietly, trying to pitch her voice the way Red was, low and alluring.

“Well, that’s a shame,” she sighed dramatically. “Because I’m not wearing anything at all right now, sorry to disappoint.” Y/N couldn’t see her but she would bet anything Red was wearing a big pout right now. She wondered what her lips looked like. In her head she pictured soft and pillowy.

“You are such a tease,” Y/N laughed, hoping to disguise the pang of arousal that had shot through her a moment before.

“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you baby?”

“Yeah, I really do,” Y/N found herself admitting unconsciously.

“Are you gonna keep teasing me, or are you gonna get naked too baby girl?”

A throb of desire fluttered between Y/N’s legs, her pussy clenching, and when she squirmed back into her pillow a little she felt the lace fabric of her own panties sliding a little more between her thighs. Her arousal had started to soak out of her and into the material.

“You want me naked?” Y/N’s words scratched their way out of her throat, trying to pull her confidence along with them.

“Oh god, please baby,” Red moaned loudly, but it didn’t sound fake. It was like Jensen had told her, it sounded like she was really enjoying this, and like she was actually getting off on what was happening between them right now. “Want to feel your skin against mine.”

“I want that too, baby,” Y/N’s hasty breaths shook her words. She stripped out of her underwear and shoved her phone and headphones down the front of her sweatshirt so she could shimmy it over her head without disconnecting the earbuds. She didn’t want to miss anything.

“God, if I was there I would kiss all over you. Bet you taste amazing,” Red sighed, and Y/N could hear something shifting over the phone, like fabric moving around.

“Are you on your bed too?” Y/N asked.

“Yep, all spread out for you baby girl.”

“Are you touching yourself?” Y/N’s confidence was starting to build as she heard how much Red sounded like she’s into this, and she couldn’t deny she was turned on too. She felt wetter than she’d been in weeks, and when her fingers drifted down over her stomach its muscles twitched in anticipation of where she was about to touch.

“Where do you want me to touch?” Y/N let her eyes slide closed, and she could imagine Red batting her lashes as she asked - where do you want me to touch? - She pictured the girl she’d seen in the photo poised over her, legs straddling Y/N’s hips as Red ran her hands over her own body, fingers trailing over her throat, fondling her breasts, twisting around the pink flesh at the tips of each, lingering on the soft of her stomach before dipping lower.

“I want you to touch between your legs and tell me how wet you are,” Y/N said between deep breaths, trying to keep her voice even.

“I’m already so wet for you, baby,” Red gasped, and Y/N hoped it was a reaction to her fingers slipping inside her pussy.

“If you were here with me, what would you do right now?”

“I’d make you watch me fuck myself on my fingers.” Holy shit, Y/N couldn’t help the moan that bled through her lips, and she heard Red chuckle. “Yeah, you like the sound of that baby?”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/N whimpered, her own fingers finally making their way between her legs and sliding easily through the slick she found there.

“I’d straddle myself right over your face, so you could see my fingers fucking my pussy, feel me dripping on you.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“And then, when my fingers are nice and soaked, you’re gonna suck them clean like a good little girl, aren’t you sweetheart?” Red’s monologue was absolutely wrecking Y/N, she wanted everything the woman on the end of the line was describing so badly. “Want you to do it to yourself, since I can’t be there to do it for you. Can you get those fingers nice and wet for me baby?”

“Fuck, yeah, okay.” Y/N pushed two fingers inside her pussy, clenching around them wantonly. She must have let out some kind of noise because Red giggled again before she continued talking.

“That’s it, fuck yourself for me baby girl, until I can do it for you.” And fucking hell, the thought of Red actually with her, touching her, fucking her… “Your fingers nice and dirty now?”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/N squeaked, pressing against her g-spot to get herself even wetter.

“Good girl,” Red hummed. “Now suck them clean for me, Y/N. Want you to taste just how sweet you are. God, wish I could taste you too,” she moaned, her breath hitching.

Y/N obeyed Red’s instructions, sucking her fingers into her mouth and twirling her tongue around them, curling it across the dips and whorls of her fingertips. She groaned around the digits in her mouth, trying to make it audible that she was doing as she was told.

“Good girl,” Red cooed again, obviously hearing Y/N’s sucking. “Good filthy girl. You’re so dirty aren’t you baby, bet you’re dripping onto the sheets right now you’re so horny.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N felt her whole body clenching as she pushed her hand back between her legs, toying with her clit and sending fresh jolts of desire to her core. “Fuck, I’m touching myself again. Couldn’t help it, you’re so hot baby.”

“I want you to touch yourself sweetie. Want you to make yourself feel so good.”

“I want you to feel good too,” Y/N whimpered, maybe stupidly, but she remembered Jensen saying that Red got off with him and she wanted the same thing. She wanted to know that Red wanted her, that Red found her sexy. She didn’t want to be in this alone.

“Oh, I am feeling so good baby girl,” Red assured Y/N, her voice brimming with sincerity and whimpers to back it up. “Fucking myself so good, pretending it’s your fingers inside me.”

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Y/N couldn’t come up with anything more eloquent than that. The more she played with herself the foggier her brain got.

“What are you imaging right now?”

“Thinking about you, you on top of me.”

“You want me on top, huh? Want me to hold you down a little, baby?”

“Mm, yeah,” Y/N sighed, slipping two fingers from her free hand down to her entrance and pushing them inside, keeping her other hand on her clit, rolling it between her fingers. “You could hold me down, grind yourself against me. Use me to get yourself off.” Y/N’s breathing was ragged now, and the fingers inside her pussy sought out her g-spot again, starting to focus their efforts a little more concertedly on the spongy bundle of nerves.

“Oh sweetie, that’s so hot, fuck,” Red moaned heavily, her breath catching on her curse. “I’d grind against you so good. Rub our pussies together, all slick and hot, grind my clit against yours nice and hard. Fuck, touch your clit for me baby.”

“I am,” Y/N gasped, drawing fast little circles over the nub between her legs. “Fuck, want all that so bad. Think you could come like that? Just from rubbing your pussy on me, getting me all wet and dirty?”

“Fuck yes, love rubbing my pussy on yours, love grinding our clits together. I could tease you so good. Go nice and slow, wonder how long you’d last before you start begging me to let you cum.”

“I’m close,” Y/N whimpered, surprised at how true it was. She hadn’t gotten so close to cumming this quickly in ages.

“Already baby? You naughty little girl,” Red groaned, and the sound of bed springs crackled through Y/N’s earbuds too. Y/N pictured Red arching off the bed, fucking her hips into her fingers. “You want to cum for me baby?”

“Fuck, yes, yes please,” Y/N begged, feeling the muscles in her thighs and stomach starting to constrict, heat singing through her veins.

“Not yet baby, keep fucking yourself.” Y/N let out a pathetic whine in protest. “You can do that for me, can’t you sweetie. Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Good girl, I’m so fucking close baby.”

“Fuck, please, want you to cum. Want you to cum with me.” Y/N’s eyes squeezed tight as small pinpricks of light started to burst in the darkness of her vision.

“Gonna cum for you, baby girl,” Red cried, voice high and tight. “Fuck, I’m gonna squirt, I can feel it. Gonna squirt all over your pussy, fucking soak you.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N felt like she might actually start crying, she needed to cum so badly. She was so so so close.

“Rub that little clitty, pretend it’s me rubbing up against you. All hot and wet,” her voice was breaking, her words short and breathless, and Y/N could tell Red was as close as she was. “Gonna cum all over you. Fuck, gonna squirt so hard bet I could actually cum inside you.”

“Holy fuck!” Y/N’s hips snapped into the air, searching for the imaginary body she wished was there. It was becoming hard to hear through the intense buzzing in her ears. Every nerve in her body was pulled taut, ready to snap.

“Cum for me Y/N, c’mon baby, you can do it, want you to cum for me like the good little girl you are baby, c’mon.”

Y/N was sobbing, wrist pistoning her fingers in and out of herself faster than she ever remembered being able to move, and she felt the walls of her pussy clamping down, trying to keep the pressure inside where it wanted it. And then she couldn’t take it anymore. Everything froze. She might have screamed, but to be honest she couldn’t be too sure, because she couldn’t hear anything except the white light that had flooded the dark space behind her eyelids.

Lockdown became much more bearable after that day. Though Y/N did have to try really hard to not think about the fact that she and Jensen were kind of fucking the same girl. In a way. It was weird. But if she ignored that part, then her ‘dates’ with Red were perfect. She was finally able to release all the tension, sexual and otherwise, that this whole mess had building up in her system constantly. And eventually, the world started to open back up and things started to get just a little bit easier.

Y/N wondered what she would do when lockdown was well and truly over. When the bars and clubs opened up again, would she and Jensen go out and try to hook up like they always had before? Would everything just go back to normal? Would she still want to call Red if she was getting actual sex with a real girl, and not just her hand or a bit of silicone? Yes. The answer was most definitely yes, Y/N had to admit to herself. Even though it was just phone sex, it was still some of the best sex she’d ever had.

Well, Red is a professional, she thought to herself wryly as she spooned some froth onto the top of the cappuccino she was making. The coffee shop she worked at had reopened last week, finally.

“Y/N! Can you jump on register while I take my break?” Michelle called from the end of the counter.

“Sure thing,” Y/N smiled and wiped her hands off on her apron, making her way behind the other baristas to the cash register. She briefly glanced at the line of people waiting to order – a couple of college kids carrying some scary looking textbooks, a portly man scratching his bald patch, a pretty girl with shiny hair and awesome winged liner. Y/N blushed as she caught the eye of the girl, and immediately looked back at her tablet, typing in her register code.

“Hi there, what can I get you?” Y/N’s customer service voice was alarmingly cheery, and the two college guys blinked, startled, clearly still unused to interacting with humans again – Y/N knew the feeling, cringing internally. She made a note to dial the pep back a little.

“Hey, what can I get you?” It was the pretty girl at the front of the line now.

“Um, I’ll have a caramel latte, please,” she answered with a bright smile, red lips stretching across shockingly white teeth.

“Size?” Y/N asked, tapping the order into her tablet.

“How big can you make it?” the girl giggled, and Y/N looked up, something tugging at the back of her mind.

“Um, large?” Y/N answered absentmindedly, trying to figure out what was bugging her so much. The girl just nodded, politely accepting the fact that Y/N had skated over her joke. “Can I get a name for the order?” She grabbed the large sized cup and uncapped the marker, hand poised over the white cardboard, ready to write.

“Oh, sure. It’s Danneel.”

“Danielle?” Y/N asked, her mind still wandering.

“No, Dan– you know what, it’s a weird name. Just go with Red.”

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lihikainanea · 2 years

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Lei, feel free to disregard this entirely. But... like... what does Tiger think about Alex's Northman body? Does she think anything of it? Does Bill think she thinks something about it? Is that something that becomes a situation between them? I can imagine Alex getting as thin and lanky as Bill (and I don't like it), but I can't imagine Bill beefing up as much as Alex has.

Oh god Loli, what have you done?

Alright, so Alex goes full WWE and beefs the fuck out for a role and it kind of inadvertently gives Bill a bit of a complex.

And you know, tiger is only human. There's really only so much she can tolerate and attempt to ignore, and Alex packing on 20lbs of muscle and having ripples and flexion in places he has no business having....well. Tiger is only human. But I love that a lot of their relationship is based on sarcasm and jokes. Tiger never fell for Alex's charms and Alex, in turn, started to feel a whole hell of a lot more comfortable around tiger. He considers her like an 8th brother.

The problem is that Bill probably thinks that she thinks something of it. And maybe it starts when Alex is back home and so is Bill, both of them having wrapped some gruelling shoots. And Alex is still like...he's fucking huge right, and tiger is most definitely not used to seeing him like that. And to her--it's hilarious. None of his clothes fit. He looks uncomfortable. He's still not used to this level of strength so basically anything he touches--he breaks. A wine glass as he handed it to her, the whole fucking jar of jam when she gave it to him to open. Hell he twisted open a wine bottle and the entire neck of glass broke off in his hand.

"Hercules!" tiger clapped her hands, "Hercules! Hercules! Hercules!"

And she's absolutely doing it to annoy him, but Bill is kind of getting irked because he thinks she's into it.

Bill stumbles into the kitchen one morning to find the two of them already there, and tiger is pointing to random muscles and Alex is making them twitch. He makes his pecs dance. Tiger points to some obscure joint in his hands and Alex makes it flex. Then his elbow.

"Who has a fucking muscle there?" tiger laughs, "Do it again!"

"Don't," Bill snaps, and they both jump. His eyes are still half-closed but there's the unmistakable grimace of anger on his face.

"Hey bud," tiger says softly, "Do you want some coffee?"

Bill just stares at her, dead-eyed. Then he stares at his brother. Then her again. And then without a word he just steps forward, picks her up from her chair and heaves her over his shoulder.

"Okay, or not," she snickers.

"Or not," he snaps.

She think he's just being his usual petulant, mildly grumpy self after a long shoot but then he tosses her into bed without a word, shoves the blankets up to her chin, and turns around with a huff.

"Billy?" she mumbles.

"Go to sleep."

She bites her lip. He's mad.

"I'm cold," she tries. And that always works. With a sigh like he's just so put out, he turns and wraps all his limbs around her as she cuddles into his chest with a happy hum.

But it keeps happening. And again, tiger most definitely notices Alex's beefed out body but to her it really is hilarious--he's so oaf like, so clumsy, he's an elephant in a china shop and tiger is endlessly amused. She's not at all used to seeing him anything but tall and lithe, the typical Skarsgard man, and suddenly he looks like Johnny Bravo. To the point where tiger takes to poking him with a fork that morning over breakfast, and Alex shrieks.

"Just seeing if you'd deflate, Hercules." she teases, shoving a forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth.

"100% beef," he retorts.

Bill scowls.

I'll bet it absolutely becomes a situation between them, every time tiger calls Alex Hercules Bill feels a strong urge to fight his brother. To fight him real good. And tiger knows what's going on, and she knows not to let it get too far. So maybe she starts off pretty subtly, going to Bill instead to open some jars that she can't loosen. Making a habit of running her hands over his, over his forearms, his biceps. She squeezes him extra tight when she hugs him in hopes he'll do the same--and he does, every time. And every time, she lets out a little oof like he's squeezing just a bit too hard. And eventually one night in bed, as she's playing with his hair and tugging on that curl on his forehead, he starts to scowl again.

"You know if I had gone through with that role, I'd have beefed up too," he mutters. She smoothes out the frown lines between his eyebrows.

"I know," she said, "And I'm glad you didn't."

He cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at her, and she smiles gently.

"Billy, you know I'm teasing him," she says softly, "He looks ridiculous. He looks like a caricature."

"He looks like Hercules."

"Exactly, and that's insane," she giggles, "He has so many muscles he can't even move properly. He can't touch his toes. He can barely even turn his neck anymore without his shoulder blocking the view."

"He does look stupid."

"I didn't say stupid."

"You said stupid," he urges, with a glare. Tiger gives a small laugh.

"He looks stupid for the way that I know him, what I'm used to," she acquiesces, "That's all, bud. It's just in good fun."

Bill sighs, and tiger runs her finger along the bridge of his nose.

"It's you Billy," she says.

"Not Hercules?"

"Not Hercules."

#BFF!Bill #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfic #bill skarsgard fic

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zaffrenotes · 3 years

Text

[TRR: WD106] Avoiding A Blunder

Summary: Prince Liam has to fill in for Crown Prince Leo, and Murphy’s Law is put into motion at the end of his trip. Chaos ensues, condensed Wacky Drabble style. Fic Rating/Warning: M; alcohol consumption, minor health/medical emergency, anxiety/angst Author’s Note: All main characters belong to Pixelberry/The Royal Romance, I’m just borrowing them * Fictional versions of IRL individuals are included with affection; any other characters mentioned in this piece are my creation * This is my submission for @wackydrabbles Prompt 106: You’re gonna get us busted! * You have @the-soot-sprite and @ao719 to thank for this ridiculousness, lol - Soot reblogged a photo, Betsy sent me this request

and...this is what my brain came up with (PS - thank you both for the movie discussion) * For the purposes of this story, Triydalia is a fictional country that shares a border with Thailand * Word Count: 1999 😅 (7 minutes reading time)

Taglist (if your name is crossed out, I'll tag you in the comments): @/ao719 @burnsoslow @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @ofpixelsandscribbles @rainbowsinthestorm @superharriet @/the-soot-sprite @choiceskatie @jaqren @aestheticartsx @bbrandy2002 @dcbbw @gnatbrain @jared2612 @kingliam2019 @ladyangel70 @lovingchoices14 @nestledonthaveone @princessleac1 @queenjilian @sfb123 @texaskitten30 @theroyalheirshadowhunter @yourmajesty09

Liam was used to filling in for Leo at a moment’s notice; participating in conference calls with ambassadors for early morning updates when Leo overslept, and attending meetings with ministers when Leo went AWOL. He’d grown accustomed to his brother’s antics, but he wondered how Bastien managed to keep his position, when he’d lost track of Leo’s whereabouts countless times.

While Leo spent more time avoiding his duties as Crown Prince of Cordonia, Liam dutifully took on the extra responsibilities in stride. It often meant partitioning his already packed schedule to sit in on vital cabinet meetings or dining with visiting dignitaries, but sometimes Leo’s vanishing acts gave Liam the opportunity to travel.

Though their ambassadors handled the majority of day-to-day relations with other countries for trade, Constantine preferred to meet face-to-face when he could. One such time, a lingering cough turned to walking pneumonia, restricting Constantine to as much bed rest as possible. It also meant sending Leo to Japan for a meeting with the Prime Minister in his stead.

It would have been fine, if Leo hadn’t pulled another one of his disappearing acts.

A week later, Liam was seated on the royal jet on his way back from Tokyo, navy attache with espresso brown leather trim in the chair next to him. Across from him, Maxwell chatted with Anya over various Thai dishes. On the other side of the plane, Drake was in a heated discussion with leggy blonde Anitah while the ladies’ petite friend Donna observed in silence, fighting back a grin. “You’re an imbecile if that’s your opinion,” Anitah declared, raising her hands up in the air. “Are you sure that’s the hill you wanna die on?”

Drake smugly sipped from the crystal tumbler in his hand. “I’m right and you know it.”

“What are you two talking about?” Liam asked, relieved to think about anything other than what was in the bag and why it was so important he hand deliver it to his father.

“Fight Club being a better cinematic masterpiece than The Princess Bride,” Drake replied. “You guys agree, right? If you could only watch one movie for the rest of your life, you’d want to watch Tyler Durden fight the system instead of some…” he paused to sneer at Anitah, who crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue at him, “...story about a swashbuckler rescuing a princess? She’s not even a real princess!”

“Fight Club is such a guy movie though,” Anya argued, turning in her seat to face Drake. “Princess Bride appeals to men and women, with a much larger audience.”

“Okay, that’s two for Buttercup,” Drake sighed. “Maxwell? Li?” He looked at his friends expectantly.

“Fight Club, definitely,” Maxwell said, nodding his head. He’d spent the better part of the trip doing everything to get into Drake’s good graces after the octopus incident on the first night in Tokyo.

Before Liam could respond, a commotion from the front of the plane made everyone’s heads turn, where a pair of Kings Guards and two flight attendants were seated near the galley. One of the guards slipped into the cockpit, rushing out a moment later in Liam’s direction, as the jet slowly tilted to the right. “Apologies, Your Highness. Do you or any of your guests happen to speak Triydalian?”

Anya slowly raised her hand. “I knew a bit when I was a kid, but I haven’t used it in years.”

The guard motioned for her to join him. “Please come with us, miss. The pilots need a translator.”

“Is everything alright, Remy?” Liam peered past the guard, eyes widening at the sight of the other guard and one attendant hovering in front of the other attendant in a chair.

“We need to land the plane, Sir,” Remy answered, ushering Anya up from her seat. “Ramona passed out. She’s breathing but unresponsive.”

Twenty minutes later and after a jarring landing, they’d arrived at a small airport in the Republic of Triydalia, at the edge of one of the country’s many jungle forests. Calling it an airport was generous - it was more of a cleared dirt path in the middle of the jungle with a shack for an airport tower, and a man that looked like more of a hunter than an air traffic controller. After a choppy conversation that required pantomiming and hand signals, Anya left with Remy and the man from the tower to fetch a tribal doctor, while Anitah and Donna assisted the other member of the cabin crew to look after Ramona. They were warned to remain as quiet as possible and to stay inside the jet.

Minutes passed by in tense observation; Anitah and Drake continued their debate in low whispers, growing louder as they defended their choices. Liam could see the pilots discussing something pointedly as they checked readings on the instrument panel and worked on calculations. One of them stepped out, claiming that he needed to stretch his legs, and walked cautiously down the runway. When he returned, the other pilot joined him outside, despite the original warning to stay inside. Liam peered out the windows and checked his watch, worrying about Anya and Remy, along with his father’s instructions to avoid delaying their return.

While the remaining guard headed towards the back of the plane to pace back and forth for the eighth time, Liam took it upon himself to speak with the pilots. The air was thick and stifling the moment he stepped outside. Around them, there was nothing but green, green, and more green from the wilderness that surrounded them, abuzz with tropical birds and insects. At his side he carried the blue attache, remembering the promise to his father that the bag wouldn’t leave his sight. He spoke in a hushed tone when he approached the pilots. “You’re doing more than just stretching your legs, aren’t you, Captain?”

Both men grimaced slightly. “Yes, Your Highness. Even if we pulled back to one end of the runway, we’re still at least five hundred feet short of clearing takeoff.”

“What if we worked to try and clear the brush on either end?” Liam offered, looking off into the distance.

“There’s no way to clear out the trees, even the young ones,” the co-captain answered. “We might be able to take off if we could drop some weight, but the larger concern is the longer we wait, we increase the risk of encountering someone who doesn’t want us here.”

Liam nodded gravely; months of civil unrest in Triydalia meant rebel groups assembled faster than the government could contain them. There was no guarantee of anyone’s safety, stranded on a remote runway. There was no telling what was wrong with Ramona while she was unconscious, and therefore no way to treat her without the aid of a doctor. Ensuring the safety of the crew and his friends could have been avoided altogether if Leo didn’t constantly opt out of handling the duties of his station. In that moment, Liam abhorred the never-ending list of responsibilities thrust at him as a result of having to pick up the slack for his brother, knowing if their roles were reversed, Leo would manage to find a way to leave Liam to solve problems on his own.

“Could you excuse me for a moment?”

He’d barely finished asking the question before walking into the tall grass by the edge of the runway. Ignoring the pilots’ calls to return, Liam sprinted into the dense greenery, dodging between vines and scanning the ground for tripwires until he could no longer see the plane over his shoulder. When he finally stopped running, he bent over, hands on his knees as he gulped in air. Liam looked down at the blue bag in his hand, wondering what on earth was so precious to reduce him to a courier.

Shaking the bag did nothing; it felt practically empty, though he could tell something was inside. He couldn’t open the bag to check, since Prime Minister Abe and his father were the only ones with keys, and PM Abe handed him the sealed bag when they parted ways. Liam wanted to throw the infernal “murse” the ladies had good-naturedly teased him for into the bushes. Perspiration dotted his hairline, and he let out a primal scream, before taking slow, deep breaths to quiet the worrisome thoughts racing in his head and bring his heartbeat down to normal.

Cursed courier bag in his right hand, Liam braced his arm against his torso, pinning it in place with his elbow when he bent his other arm up towards his face. Curling his fingers into a relaxed fist, he pressed his lips against his thumb, thick brows furrowing in thought. All around him, wild birds called to one another amidst the chittering clamor of insects hidden in the foliage. He was so busy running through scenarios in his head that he didn’t hear the quiet click of a camera, turning to look up only when he heard a branch snap in the distance.

“Watch it! You’re gonna get us busted!” Donna hissed to Drake. She pocketed her phone, elbowing Drake in the ribs as they crouched behind large leaves. She ticked her head in Liam’s direction. “Go get your boy, none of us are safe out here.”

After some coaxing, Liam headed back to the plane with Donna and Drake, walking briskly through the jungle, eyes trained to look for anything out of the ordinary. Liam was alarmed when he heard and then saw the engines running, until Drake explained the pilots were burning off fuel to lighten the plane. They’d begun to walk up the steps, when Maxwell popped out above them. “Whoo!” Maxwell exclaimed, digging for another snack from the container he cradled in his arm. “Feels like a sauna out here!”

“Lower your voice, Maxwell! Please!” Liam seethed. His features pinched together in disbelief. “Are you...eating? Now?”

“You know I stress snack,” Maxwell replied, shrugging his shoulders. He shoved another cookie into his mouth.

Liam’s eyes lit up and he took the stairs two by two, knocking on the cockpit door before swinging it open. “What if we unloaded whatever’s not bolted down? The decor, dinnerware, the food and drink?”

“That...would certainly help,” the captain replied, looking back over his shoulder. He turned to his co-pilot. “It could be enough to get in the air after burning off the excess fuel.”

“You heard the man, Maxwell,” Liam said, offering his friend a nervous grin. “Get Drake to help you start unloading the plane. Has Ramona’s status changed?”

“Donna found the first aid kit just before she took off with Drake to go after you. Anitah found some smelling salts that gave her a rude wakeup call. Turns out her insulin pump shorted and she just needed some juice.”

Several more minutes passed as the group removed whatever they could from the plane, leaving piles of cookware, food, throw pillows, and even seat cushions to lighten the load. Drake whined when they gathered up the liquor, but he stuffed a bottle of whiskey in a cabinet by his seat. They’d nearly finished when Anya and Remy returned, running on foot. “That thing better be ready to take off!” Anya hollered, motioning for everyone to board. “Rebels on our tail! Time to go!”

Everyone scrambled back onto the plane; Liam relayed the urgency to depart to the pilots, who rapidly went through their flight checklist. Remy pulled Anya up onto the steps and they all clamored to buckle into their seats, the sound of gunfire in the air as the jet rolled forward and lurched up into the air, barely clearing the canopy.

Adrenaline pumping and breaths shallow, Liam looked around at his friends and the crew, thankful they were safely in the air again.

Liam thought he was having a stroke at twenty-four when he saw the contents of the bag. Constantine smiled with glee at the small gold cat, one paw raised.

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