#i have been sitting here for months just BEGGING my brain to do something

[yauchfilms]

anything with logan and being back in florida ? would appreciate!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

sunburn ✢ logan sargeant (18+)

pairing: logan sargeant x reader (established relationship)

warnings: smut, porn with plot (lots of exposition sorry i got carried away), one use of y/n, soft dom!logan, switchy!reader, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, lots of pet names, begging, lots and lots of praise, body part worship if you squint, cursing, logan’s a simp, reader is implied floridian, implied childhood friends to lovers, sunburns, fluffy intimacy

summary: it’s been too long since y/n has been back in the states and she is NOT used to the florida sun like she used to be, but don’t worry, logan knows how to take care of her.

word count: 3.5k

author's note: sorry i got soooo carried away with this i don’t know what came over me. this was NOT supposed to be smut but im just a florida girl crushing on a florida boy here y’all lmao. i’m down so bad for this man that i just went kinda crazy. also this was my first time writing smut so pls bare with me. this is inspired by my friend (and fellow logan girly) who just acquired a nasty sunburn lmaoooo. enjoy!!!!

it had been quite a while since you and logan had been back home together. well, not really, but the weather was typically a lot nicer in the winter months than in the spring and summer, and you were not used to it. after you and logan moved to london together full-time, you rarely saw the sun anymore, and your matching pale complexions certainly reflected that sentiment. 

obviously, the miami race weekend was a big deal for the whole sargeant camp. aunts, uncles, cousins, childhood friends, and grandparents would be making their short trip down i-95 to see logan race, but it also meant that you and logan could spend a week together at home, in the sun, in each other’s company. a free vacation of sorts. logan’s parents were busy getting the house ready for the hordes of guests that were to soon occupy the space, so you and logan were more than happy to get out of their hair and into the back yard for some relaxation. 

it was sunday, and you found yourself lounging out on the dock, lost in a romance novel that was probably making you lose brain cells, when you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.

“y/n!”, logan yelled from where him and coco were playing on the grass. “have you been applying sunscreen?” 

you put your book down, letting out a small huff at his question. logan often took a rather paternal role over you, not in a weird or demeaning way, but rather in the sense that he always has your best interest at heart. and you loved that about him, loved how he always wanted to take care of you without being asked. 

you looked down over the chaise longue you were laid out on, thinking there was a bottle of SPF next to your drink, but all that was there was the can of sparkling water you had been nursing. 

“don’t have any; i’ll be okay!” you called back, hoping that would be the end of it.

“you want me to bring you some? it’s no problem,” logan replied, positioning himself to get up off the ground.

“don’t worry about it; i’m coming inside soon anyways!” you half-lied, knowing that logan usually respected your wishes when it came to things like that. you knew you weren’t necessarily telling him the truth, but he knew you and your stubbornness, and he knew it was not his business to try to fix it. 

another few hours had passed, and logan and the dog had long gone inside to find something else to do. you had stayed out, vowing to finish your book in one sitting. as you closed it, you stood up from the lounger, grabbing your long-abandoned can from the ground, wrapping yourself in the towel that you had been laying on, making your way back into the comfort of the house – and the air conditioning.

walking in through the kitchen, you pass logan’s mom, who was cooking dinner for the family. 

“oh sweetie, looks like you got some color on you!” she exclaims, chopping up some vegetables. 

“yeah, it’s been a minute since i’ve had time to tan! i missed the florida sunshine too much.”

“well, logan’s in his room, and dinner’s in about an hour if you’d like to freshen up,”  mrs. sargeant said sweetly, motioning towards the hallway towards logan’s room.

upon your arrival, logan moved his laptop out of his lap and onto the bed next to him. you took the towel off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bikini, when logan’s eyes went wide with shock.

“what, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bikini before?” you quipped, reacting to his sudden change of expression. 

“y/n, you are bright red, like ferrari red,” logan replied, serious as a heart attack. you make your way to the vanity over his dresser, taking in your current state. logan was right. you were burnt. 

“what the fuck dude, i swear i wasn’t out there that long,” you snapped, poking and prodding yourself in the mirror, letting out a wince when you stumbled over a particularly sensitive area.

logan gets off his spot on the bed, making his way towards you, joining you in front of the mirror. his hands immediately fall to your hips out of instinct, but he makes sure not to grab too tightly due to your new look.

“baby,” he says, placing his chin onto your shoulder. you let out another wince, reacting to his touch. “i told you to wear sunscreen. now look at you, my little lobster…”

“this isn’t funny,” you pout, and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. you spin around in his arms, now facing him face-to-face rather than through the mirror. 

“stop pouting baby, and go hop in the shower, please. the sooner you get some cold water on you, the better you’ll feel. i can feel the heat radiating off you from here,” logan said with a giggle. his hands linger around your ass, and he gives a slight smack to send you on your way, which elicits a shrill yelp from you due to the sensitivity of the area. 

“are you at least going to join me?” you question as you make your way to his en suite, stopping in the door frame with your arms crossed across your chest. logan lets out another giggle.

“and listen to you whine the whole time? no thanks, plus i showered like an hour ago,” he replies, which garners a predictable whine from you.  “if you make it quick, i might have something that can help you,” he adds, and you turn on your heel into the bathroom, shutting the door with a slam. 

and he was right; the shower hurt like hell, but you know that had he been there, you wouldn’t have been able to properly soak in the cold water, so you silently curse him for being right. 

you walk back into logan’s room, wrapped in your towel, when you see him sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. he hears you approach, putting his phone down and grabbing the clear bottle off the bed next to him. 

“i found you aloe; well, my mom did. she said your burn is one of the worst she’s seen,” logan said, presenting the bottle to you like it was a participation trophy. 

“is that supposed to make me feel better or worse, logie?” you questioned, feigning offence from his comment. 

“well, the comment probably won’t, but hopefully the aloe does,” he replied. “c’mere, baby,” he cooed, his arms outstretched, welcoming you into his arms. you take your spot on his lap, legs draped over his thigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you in place. logan places a kiss to the bridge of your nose, and along your cheeks, leaning in to admire the newly-formed freckles that were threatening to peak out from underneath the harsh redness of your skin. 

“your freckles are back; reminds me of when we were little, trying to catch fish with my dad in the backyard. you were so bad at it; still are to be honest, but it’s okay because you still look cute trying to bait a hook,” he laughs, his breath giving a cooling sensation to your cheeks, and you wish he would keep talking just to feel his breath against your skin. 

“logan, baby, the aloe?” you suggest, knowing that the time he’s wasting is killing you. all you crave is the feeling of the lotion on you, and his hands being the ones to apply it. 

“sorry, didn’t mean to get sentimental on you, just being here with you makes me think about stuff like that. i sometimes wish we could go back…” logan trails off, and you know what he’s thinking about. he often thinks about the memories of you growing up, how much he missed you when he moved away to the uk, and what it meant to get you back. you like to think of those moments too, sometimes, but he often gets in his head about it. 

“i know,” you coo, lifting a hand up to card through the longer hair on the back of his neck, as a way to soothe him.

he lifts the bottle of aloe up towards you. 

“may i?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up in an inquisitive way.

“of course you may. how do you want me?” you ask, a mischievous look in your eye.

“do not say it like that, you minx,” logan shot back, your innuendo catching him by surprise. 

“keep talking crazy like that, and we might have a problem,” he snapped, although with no actual malice behind it. “you can lay on your tummy first, though, and i’ll go from there, if that’s okay,” he said, his expression softening as he looked at you. 

you climb out of his lap and onto your stomach on the bed next to him, and he straddles your back to get the proper angle. 

“this okay?” he asks, tugging slightly at the towel that is still loosely wrapped around your back. 

“log, you’ve seen me naked countless times; of course it’s okay,” you quip, turning your head so he can see the side of your face. he leans down, planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek, blowing a raspberry there. this elicits a giggle from you, wriggling underneath him. 

logan drags the towel down your body slowly, his fingers barely grazing your warm, sensitive skin, standing up on his knees to pull it out from under you. 

“i know we aren’t having sex or anything, but could you at least take your shirt off or something? this feels too clinical,” you say, causing logan to burst out laughing above you.

“you are not a real person, i swear to god,” he quips, pulling his shirt over his head in one quick motion. “is that better, princess?” he says sarcastically, using the nickname he only gives you when you’re acting like a handful. 

between your fits of giggles, you let out a “mhm” that signals to logan that he is free to proceed. this evokes an eye roll from logan that you catch out of the corner of your eye. 

his attitude doesn’t last long, however, because before you can protest, his lips find your shoulder blade, peppering kisses along the top of your back, feeling his stubble graze across your skin. it burns, but feels so good at the same time.

“so sweet for me, logie,” you groan, melting into his touch. he reaches for your hair, still damp from the shower, to move it out of his way, as he makes his way across the plane of your body.  

all he can manage is a drawn out “hmmmmm” as he feels the warmth of your skin along his cheek. 

he pulls away suddenly, and you whimper at the loss of contact from him. 

“i know, i know,” he cooes, and you hear the bottle of lotion being opened just out of your periphery. 

his hands make contact with your skin again, feeling the sensation of the cool liquid as he massages it in. his strong hands make their way up and down your back, causing you to arch only slightly, if it wasn’t for him sitting squarely on your ass. 

“you’re killing me, logan,” you half-whisper, his actions genuinely taking your ability to speak at a regular volume, the intimacy of it all being just a little too much for you. 

“feels good, huh?” he asks, and although you can’t see it, you can tell that he’s cocked his eyebrow at you, and you’re surprised he’s been able to behave himself this long. 

his hands work swiftly, massaging the liquid in with long, deft fingers, the sensation driving you crazy.

“logan, i want you, please,” you whine, looking up over your shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyes softening in an almost begging manor. 

“i thought you said we weren’t–” 

“i lied. i’m a liar. i need you right now,” you beg, as logan stands back up on his knees to allow you to roll over underneath him, him now settled on your thighs.

“fuck, baby, i can’t say no to you,” he huffs, not sure exactly how to make the next move. he looks down at you splayed out in front of him, taking in the sight before him. a hand reaches down to caress down your chest, fingers grazing slightly over your nipple, causing your breath to hitch. 

“we have to make it quick, okay? can you be good for me?” he asks, his hand lingering on your left breast. 

you let out a whimper, shaking your head slightly.

“words, baby,” he sighs, his fingers massaging into the tissue of your chest. 

“yes, i’ll do whatever you want,” you whisper, unable to find your voice with how turned on you were. 

“that’s my pretty girl,” logan cooes, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, adjusting himself so he’s slotted between your legs. the kiss deepens, his tongue finding its way into your mouth, as he swallows your muffled moans, trying to avoid the awkward conversation with his mom later. 

“gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispers, his hand running up and down your side, the warmth of his hand searing your sensitive skin.

“god, i feel like we’re in high school again,” you say, rolling your eyes at him.

“except i wasn’t nearly as good then as i am now, though,” he smirks, diving down to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to the base of your neck, softly nibbling on your pulse point. 

“are you gonna prove it?” you ask, trying to rile him up.

this question evokes something in him, his breath against your skin coming hot and sudden, and you could feel the deep exhale from his nose.

leaning up to your ear, he whispers, “you are such a brat.”

the sensation from the whisper mixed with the sting of his words sends a shock straight to your core. he’s not always the best at dirty talk, but he still somehow knows exactly what to say and when to say it. 

“touch me, logan,” you manage to squeak out, your breath growing heavier the more you took in his words, and he was eager to oblige.

with that, the hand that found comfort on your hip trailed its way down between your bodies, grazing the softness of your stomach, fingers oh-so-gently teasing your folds. 

“so wet, huh? so worked up for me? you drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?” he growls, his voice rasping as he begins rubbing small circles against your clit with his thumb. “one or two, baby?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means. 

“two, please”, you whine into his mouth, body arching up into him before he even has the chance to touch you properly. 

“good girl, take it so well,” he groans, sliding two fingers into your cunt, almost too slowly. his voice is almost unrecognizable, the threat of being too loud taking over. his thumb continues its pattern on your clit.

you feel the tension building as he fucks his hand in and out of you, but not before you feel him slowing his pace down.

“i know you wanna come now baby, but we don’t have long. i’m gonna stop, and we can come together, okay?”, he half-whispers. 

his hand moves from its spot between your thighs back up toward your lips, as he rests his fingers on your bottom lip, cocking his eyebrow at you. 

“o-okay,” you squeak out, and with that, his fingers push past your lips, urging you to suck them clean, and you oblige, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself on his fingers. 

your hands trail down between you two, your fingers dipping underneath his shorts and boxers, toying with the waistband. 

logan removes his fingers from your mouth, opting to move back to your jawline, planting lingering kisses along the bone.

“quit teasing, baby, want you on top. let me see those pretty tits of yours, yeah?”, he smirks, knowing that him complimenting your body drives you crazy in the best way. 

you oblige with a searing kiss to his lips, opting to pull his shorts down in one motion, cock bobbing free and slapping across his stomach. he reaches down to finish taking them off, throwing them on the floor with your long-abandoned towel. 

he rolls you both over with ease, you now on top. your fingertips graze his chest, down to his abs, grabbing his cock and giving it a few quick pumps to make sure he’s ready. 

“ready, log?” you ask, your hands now on either side of his head, his blue eyes sparkling back up at you, your hips and ass now up in the air waiting for his cue. 

he leans up to chase your lips, trying to kiss you, just out of his reach. 

“please, baby, i can’t take it much more,” he begs, using his arms to pull you down to him, sinking down on him, and meeting his lips with yours. now it’s his turn to moan into your mouth. 

“fuuuuuck,” is all he’s able to get out, his hands finding their way to your hips, trying to help you relieve the lack of sensation. Your hips roll for the first time over him, and his hips immediately buck up into you.

“patience, baby. i thought i was the desperate one?” your words go right to his cock, making him buck up once again, making you speed up your motions. you feel the effects of his desperation on your body, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with every bounce on his cock.

“fuck, you’re close, baby; so am i,” logan pants, the physicality of it all catching up to him. he knows your body so well; he can always tell when you’re about to come. 

with his observation, you lean back with your hands behind you on his thighs, your hips continuing to roll against his body, eliciting a low, grumbling moan from logan. he loved you like that, all cock-drunk and lazy on top of him. it also meant that he had a perfect view of your tits, both his hands reaching to grab at them as he continued fucking up into you. 

“these are so fucking perfect. all mine. i can’t believe you’re all mine, baby,” logan pants, both of your movements becoming lazier, as he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, feeling your already-tight walls close in on his cock.

you can feel your orgasm quickly approaching with his presence on your tits, and you know that he isn’t going to last long, either. you lean forward, diminishing the space between you two, giving logan the opportunity to bear hug you. his thrusts up into you send you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, causing you to let out a muffled moan onto his right pec. your vision goes slightly blurry for a second until you hear a grunted “fuck, baby”, followed by the feeling of logan’s hips sputtering underneath you. he comes shortly after you, spilling into you. 

You collapse onto his chest, your highs riding out together. he doesn’t loosen his grip around your back, planting a sweet kiss to the top of your forehead, pulling out as you lay pitifully on his chest.

“so good for me, baby, so sweet. fuck, i’m so lucky,” he whispers, rubbing your back where, just a few minutes earlier, he was applying aloe lotion. he rolls you both over so that you’re now facing each other on your sides. 

you reach a hand up to caress his face, feeling the stubble from a week’s worth of no races, the hair rough against your smooth palm. 

“logie, you fucked me so good i almost forgot about this damn sunburn,” you giggled, “but now we’re done and it just hurts again!”

“guess that means i’ll just have to fuck you again,” logan smirked, burying his head into the crook of your neck, eliciting more giggles from you. you begin to hook your leg over his thigh, bringing you even closer, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. you almost begin the cycle over again until you hear a knock on the door that has you both frozen in your tracks. 

“dinner!” you hear his mom cheer from the other side of the door, and then her footsteps clearly walking back down the hall towards the kitchen. 

“guess not,” you teased, eliciting an eye roll from logan, who quickly gets up to pull you into the bathroom to get cleaned up. 

#logan sargeant smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader

[marvelnatr]

Mistaken 18+

MINORS DNI

Warnings: Smut, strap on use, fingering, oral r receiving, mocking, praising, spanking, dacyrphilia, sub!reader, dom!Nat, daddy kink, friends with benefits.

Background: You and Yelena are friends with benefits, you decided to spend the night at her house

Your POV:

“f-fuck what’s gotten into you? Y-You’re fucking me so much harder than usual”. My hands gripped onto my best friends shoulders. Her hips continuing to thrust into me. I had slipped into her bed a little under an hour ago. It was two am at the time and the house was pitch black. After feeling my way through the room I had pulled at her, begging her to fuck me. Moaning into the darkness of the room I leaned over her, riding her strap “s-shit youre gonna make me cum”. Her thrusts quickened as her grip on my hips tightened. The coil in my belly snapping while I screamed out “f-fuck Yel!”. My orgasm washed over me as my body shook. Immediately I felt her hips still. Her body was damn near frozen. Before I could open my mouth to ask what the problem is the light was flipped on. My eyes adjusting to the new found brightness in the room. My brain almost failed to process the person in front of me. Almost…..I fucked the wrong person.

Natasha’s emerald green eyes stared at mine as panic washed over my body. I fucked my best friends sister. Smirking at me she teased “you’re soaking my sisters bed”. Stuttering a little I began to get up, trying to collect the last bit of my dignity “I-I thought you were Yelena”. Rolling her eyes Natasha sat up on her elbows “fucking relax would you? You’d think the goddamn orgasm would loosen you up.”. My face flushed an unmistakable shade of red at the thought. The orgasm she gave me was fucking mind blowing. Watching me she sighed. Sitting herself up she placed her hand on my thigh “you’re okay, I’m sorry Y/N. I seriously thought you knew it was me”. Shaking my head no I watched her. Her hand lightly ran up and down my thigh “what can I do for your aftercare?”.

Natasha’s POV:

A small mumble fell from Y/N’s mouth, barely audible as she asked for water. Getting up I grabbed it for her and watched her. Y/N’s lips wrapped around the bottle as she drank. After a few moments of awkward silence she placed the bottle on the nightstand and watched me “what now?”, putting my hair up I whispered “well I have to change the sheets we made a mess of, and I wanna make sure you’re okay”. Nodding she played with the corner of the blanket, thinking of a response “I’m okay, just a little sore”. Smirking a bit I nodded “a good sore I assume?”. Y/N shyly nodded, a smile pulling at the corners of my lips as I helped her up “good, I’m glad. Sit here while I change the sheets okay?” Y/N nodded “okie”

By the time I finished changing the sheets Y/N had fallen asleep. Her form curled up into the chair. I’ve always liked Y/N, she just had something different about her. I gently picked her up and laid her in the bed, covering her with the blanket and turning off the lights. I decided to stay in the room and do some work while she slept. I didn’t wanna leave her but I didn’t wanna make her uncomfortable by laying in bed with her.

- Time Skip -

It had been two months since Y/N’s and I’s little encounter. On several occasions I would catch her staring at me. Studying my lips. My hands. My figure. As time went on sexual tension grew. Her eyes followed me throughout the room whatever the occasion. It was another night of Tonys parties. I swear this man throws a party for literally anything. I preferred to be behind the bar. I enjoyed making the drinks and having a barrier between me and all the other people. Y/N approached the counter. Sometime during the evening she had taken off her blazer, her maroon button up was buttoned up to all but one, revealing a bit of cleavage. “What can I get you detka?” A small smile painted her face “a rum and coke please” nodding I watched her “when have you last had water?”. Y/N’s teeth caught the bottom of her lip, her eyebrows furrowing as she thought. Sighing I put down the rum and began filling the glass with water and holding it out for her to take “if you have to think about it it’s been too long, take it”. Shaking her head she politely declined “no thank you I’m okay” tilting my head I placed the glass in front of her “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it sounded like a suggestion. Drink the water Y/N”.

After a few moments she began to drink. Taking small sips as she watched me. After drinking about half she slid the glass to me, signaling she was done. Shaking my head I nodded to it “nope. Finish it” rolling her eyes a little in annoyance she picked up the glass, downing the liquid and staring at me. Clenching my jaw I watched her “drop the attitude”. Raising her eyebrows at me she countered “make me”. A proud smirk fell along her face. Happy with her witty little comeback. I for one did not find it funny. Coming around the bar I stood in front of her. “Say it again darling”, Y/N’s eyes fell to the ground, her cheeks heating up. Grabbing her jaw I brought her chin up, a small shaky breath left her lips as I challenged her again “go on, say it again pretty girl”. Shaking her head a bit Y/N whispered “no thank you”. Nodding I narrowed my eyes at her, rubbing the side of her chin “then what do we say?”. Blushing hard she whispered “I’m sorry for being rude”. Smiling I rubbed her cheek “good girl”

I watched as she rubbed her legs together. A smirk tugging at my lips “what’s wrong darling?”. Embarrassment flooded her face as she whispered “I-I’m wet”. Nodding I rubbed her jaw “is that so? I can help you with that. I know you want it love, you cant keep your eyes off me”. Melting a little in front of me she squirmed “I-I” chuckling I held her jaw, mocking her slightly “I-I. Oh what baby? You know I’m right hm?” Nodding she whispered “p-please help me”.

Picking her up I brought her to my room, her back made contact with the bed accompanied by a small squeak. Leaning over her I watched her “are you sure Y/N?” catching her breath she nodded “p-please fuck me”. Smirking a little I rubbed her thighs “please? Are you begging pretty girl” whimpering a bit she squirmed, strained forearms reached for me, the desperation flooding her eyes “p-please don’t tease me”. Lifting her dress gently I rubbed her legs “you’re beautiful my darling, I’m going to take my time with you”. Tearing up her hips bucked “b-but”. Pulling Y/N close to me I watched her eyes “ah ah ah, I am going to take my time. Cry all you want love, I find your tears so pretty”. Her cheeks flushed red as she continued to squirm.

After a few more minutes of teasing I flipped her on her stomach. By this point her panties had come off and tears of desperation were steadily flowing. bringing my fingers back up to trace her inner thighs I smiled at her “hi pretty girl”. A whimper fell from her lips “p-please Nat” chuckling a little I teased “please what princess?”. A cry fell from her lips “p-please daddy fuck me”. A satisfied smile pulled at the corners of my mouth “daddy hm?”. Blushing red she nodded. I wrapped her hair in my fist and pulled her up flush against my chest, a small whimper escaped her throat. She sounded so pretty with the little noises she made. Gripping her neck I whispered quietly in her ear “say it again”. Gasping a little she spoke again, her voice slightly strained from the pressure on her neck “p-please daddy”. Smiling I let her back down as I landed a harsh smack to her ass, dragging out the words I used to praise her “good girl”.

My hand made its way to between her thighs. Her ass propped up from the pillow I had slid under her hips. Grabbing a handful of each of her thighs I held them open, my fingertips making small indents in her flesh. Y/N’s pussy glistened with arousal, her juices leaking from her untouched and desperate hole. Licking one long strip her taste flooded my mouth. And my fucking god she tasted divine, like strawberries. A moan escaped her lips as my mouth latched around her sensitive bud, sucking slightly as she moaned and squirmed. Digging my fingers in a little I held her still while I slid my tongue into her cunt. “f-fuck daddy”, smirking I started tongue fucking her. Y/N’s breathing quickened as she got closer to the edge. I pulled my tongue out right before she fell over it, earning another cry from her “n-no! p-please stop teasing”. Chuckling I rubbed her ass “oh detka”, Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration as she turned to get up to look at me, mu hand stopping her efforts as I pushed her back into the mattress “stay down. I didn’t tell you you could get up”. Squeaking out she squirmed “y-yes daddy” nodding I ran my fingers along her slit “good girl. Look at you, obeying commands so well”.

Before she could say thank you I pushed two of my fingers into her cunt. Her velvety walls clenched around my digits “oh my, you’re so tight detka”. Her mouth closed from her silent moan and turned into a whimper “p-please”, smiling I rubbed her thigh “don’t worry love, daddy will fix it”. Opening my fingers a little I began to stretch her out, a string of moans fell from her lips as her hips bucked up into the air from the stimulation “f-fucking hell”. Smiling I began to stroke her g-spot with my fingertips. Her soft moans quickly turning into cries and screams of pleasure “h-holy shit”, chuckling I started fucking her faster “yeah? You like that baby? You’re taking me so well”. Her walls tightened around my fingers as her breathing picked up. Strands of hair stuck to her sweaty forehead “p-please”. Leaning over her I went faster “please what darling?”. Whimpering Y/N watched me “c-cum”. Taking my thumb I rolled it over her clit “cum for me baby”

Arching her back she came hard. Her body shaking and riding through her orgasm “shhhhh good girl, you did so well”, her breathing slowed as her cum ran down my forearm, the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Gently pulling my fingers out I sucked the liquid off my fingers. Moaning at her taste as she panted under me. After a few minutes she calmed down, my hand rubbed her hip gently as I turned her over, brushing the strands of hair from her sweaty forehead “good girl princess, I’ve got you”. Pulling her small form into me I pet the side of her head and let her rest.

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvelnatr #natasha x reader #marvel smut #daddy natasha #wlw smut #wlw post #lesbian fanfic #lesbian

[lizhly-writes]

hi. we're back to svsss again. i read Asymptotical's Many an Ill to Cure yesterday. There was this line that sort of caught in my head:

If this bit of lore was true, then Yue Qingyuan was married to Shang Qinghua of all people, and that was about the only matchup he could think of that was possibly worse than pairing Shen Qingqiu with Liu Qingge.

and my brain.... ran with it. not for very long, because i really don't have a GREAT grasp of these characters and also i should absolutely be doing something else. but here you go.

At the ripe old age of twenty-something, Shang Qinghua had successfully lied and cheated his ass off to become the An Ding Head Disciple. It absolutely didn't mean his troubles were over -- it was still An Ding, and An Ding always meant backbreaking work, no matter how high up you climbed, and haha also there was still the entire fucking plot left. But at least he had a really nice house now! At least people had to pretend to respect him! At least the System wouldn't keep that fucking countdown clock in the corner of his eye about how he had X months to make Head Disciple before it nuked his brain into a crisp!

Overall, things were going about as great as could be expected!

Except for, you know, this... this one little thing.

"What???" Shang Qinghua said, when Shizun had first lobbed it at his head.

The Lord of An Ding Peak looked askance at him. Shang Qinghua cleared his throat and tried again. "Begging this one's pardon, but... but could Shizun repeat that?"

"You'll be engaged to Yue Qingyuan," said the An Ding Peak Lord.

Yeah, that's what Shang Qinghua thought Shizun said.

FUCK!

This was his fault. Like, literally everything was his fault, seeing how he was effectively God, but this was a mistake that he didn't have to make! You could argue about the violence and the papapa, but in the end, he was speed-writing a stallion novel for money so he didn't starve.

But the engagement.

Airplane-Shooting-Towards-The-Sky had been trying to explain exactly why so many young, beautiful, cold cultivators were so eager to get with Bing-ge, even if they seemed to hate literally any other person ever. He'd eventually settled on the idea that in PIDW, even cultivators weren't truly respected as adults until they were married. In other words, marriage was a requirement! A spouse was a job position! Of course Bing-ge's wives would sell out for the best possible candidate, even if they were ambitious power-hungry snakes without a romantic bone in their body! Especially if they were ambitious power-hungry snakes without a romantic bone in their body!

In fact, even the Peak Lords of Cang Qiong did it! They were even married to each other! Even the Sect Leader! Haha, it wasn't so weird after all!

God. It would have been fine if he left it without explanation. It wasn't even like he kept the explanation -- no, he wrote it and forgot about it, just like how he did with half of the shit he wrote sleep-deprived and running on caffeine alone. And now he was stuck with this.

"Do you have any objections?" Shizun said, and then Shang Qinghua had to go noooo, of course not, Yue Qingyuan was a mighty and handsome cultivator who topped the unofficial rankings for most eligible bachelor on Cang Qiong for three years straight! How could this lowly Shang Qinghua possibly have any objections?

It was super lucky that Shen Qingqiu was too busy being engaged with Liu Qingge to murder Shang Qinghua for the affront.

Anyway, that was how Shang Qinghua had ended up here -- alone with Yue Qingyuan, sitting across from each other and drinking tea. There was a plate of delicately shaped cakes sitting between them that Shizun had heavily suggested Shang Qinghua should make. You know, to show off his culinary skills to his... his fiance.

“Shang-shidi," Yue Qingyuan said, turning a cake over in one hand. There was some muffled yelling in the background. Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge were clearly having a great time of their own scheduled courtship meeting session.

"Yue-shixiong," Shang Qinghua said. "Hi."

Yue Qingyuan's smile didn't waver. "These are very good," he said politely.

Of course they were good. Shang Qinghua wouldn't have been able to successfully suck up to Shizun if they weren't good. It had taken a lot of practice! And sabotage! Practice AND sabotage!

"Haha, thanks," Shang Qinghua said.

Faintly, an explosion sounded in the background. Yue Qingyuan's brows furrowed slightly. "Shidi," he said. "Could you perhaps open the door?"

#svsss #shang qinghua #yue qingyuan #my writing

[khuzena]

12:59

| Michael Kaiser x g/n!reader

summary: everyone in life comes and goes, but sometimes he wishes you stayed; but it's too big of a request to ask.

Warning: toxic rs,no happy ending, cry bitches. Angst, Angst, Angst. (Cheating again because this man is the reddest, crimson flag ever)

A/n: was writing this in school, no activities for the entire day so i was writing this. (This is so cringe oh my god i swear I'll write fluff next time what character do you guys want as long as it aint barou because idk how to write him..)

It sometimes gets too hard to breathe at night.

There are times where he'd find solace in your embrace, you've made home in his heart and you know.

The cupid to your psyche, the romeo to his juliet. So tempting yet so dangerous.

Trust, such a simple thing yet so hard to keep and attain. Something he's won from you years ago yet he lost instantly.

A prodigy as he, the loyal man he used to be.

Rainy days like these you'd find yourself in his well-sculpted arms, inhaling his scent and his kisses marking you his.

Two weeks before the fallout, he's been a distant man, eyes filled with disdain for you and you don't know why. Just a month ago there were flowers on your doorstep, a genuine compliment through text and light kisses pressed on your forehead here and there.

Though recently, he's been looking at you with such hate in his eyes, like you ruined his life— like you're the reason you brought pain and suffering in his world. Why?

There you were, sitting at the marble kitchen island and eating some fresh fruits while watching a boring show on your phone.

Kaiser walked past you as he grabbed an energy drink from the fridge, not even sparing you a single glance.

"Hey, love." You said smiling, nervously fidgeting your fingers under the table.

Kaiser rolled his eyes before looking at you with such disgust. Was your hair really that unkempt? Did your acne come back again? Was he no longer attracted to you? Or was it because he's found someone else. You don't know but these questions spiral in your brain, wondering, asking where you went wrong.

"Hey." He replied, the irritation in his voice was too obvious.

"Can we talk?"

If anyone could see you right now they would compare you to a homeless man asking for scraps or spare change. But at least a hobo has more dignity than you.

Like a broke man begging for money and food to survive, you're pleading, throwing away all your dignity— if you even had any left; begging for a tiny speck of his attention. Some answer, some closure for why he's been treating you like this.

"I don't have time for that and you know it, I have a game again next week in france. Let's talk next time when I have the time"

Confusion and anger boiling in you at this point, what do you mean he has no time for a simple conversation? When he has all the time in the world to do stupid shit without you when he's actually free.

"What the fuck? You barely have any fucking time for me."

He stared down at you with a blanm expression, it was irritating how he wasn't even taking you seriously.

He didn't say a word before walking away to the comfort of his room.

A week later he came home.

It was 12:59 am.

A knock on your door disturbed the peace in the living room, you made your way to the main door. Sighing with relief that it was him, that he got home safely from whatever team party he attended.

"'M sorry…"

Your eyes widened, the moment you opened the door he lunged himself at you; his grip as he hugged you not loosening.

"What happened to you, micha?..."

The smell of alcohol getting on you, the red lipstick stains on his blouse and how pathetically dishevelled that man was.

The sight took your ability to speak away for a moment. You've never expected this, he told you earlier that he'd just be drinking with his team but to go as far as this?

"Don't touch me."

Kaiser tightened his grip, the shame on his face says it all. He's never cried this hard before as his tears soaked your shirt, "Liebling.."

"I said go away." Venom dripped from your voice, causing him to flinch in his very drunk state.

A loud thud can be heard throughout the house as he fell on his knees, like the shameless bastard he is, he cried, "I still love you", "I won't do it again I promise", "You're everything, please, schatz"

The next day, he was lying on the couch. His bags being too dark one could mistake him for a panda.

Even though his stomach is growling loudly, vomit bubbling in his throat or face dried with tears he couldn't help but just wail.

Hands trembling as he looked to the alarm clock to his left, 12:59 pm. Kaiser's legs wobbled as he checked every room, looking for a sign you were there but no.

"Liebling! Please, please. Where are you?"

His voice echoed in the walls of his apartment but there was no one who answered back.

Kaiser's lost you and it's all his fault yet he wailed pathetically on the floor, holding on to the railings of his stairs like someone took you away from him.

As time passed by, he's lost count of the days he's skipped training. His hunger being his least concern even though he barely eats nowadays as he spends most of his time staring at the ceiling.

Wishing for a miracle, wishing that god hears his prayer for one last time.

In this time of deep depression his spotify playlist has become his friend, his pillow being the tissue for his tears and the sheets crumpled from his thrashing around the bed.

kaiser: please come abck

kaiser: back***

kaiser: please

kaiser: please

kaiser: i love you

kaiser: liebling

kaiser: liebling lets talk

kaiser: please.

*seen*

It's hopeless.

No matter how many times he blew up your phone with calls and texts you never answered. Though you never even blocked him too.

It was that time again, he called you again. Screen stained with tears as his eyes sparkled with hope when you finally picked up.

"Liebling, im sorry, im sorry."

The call was still on but he could only hear your heavy breathing, his breath hitched as he shakily held his phone to his ear.

"I know my sorrys won't change anything, but I still love you."

"I can't live without you"

"You're my everything."

"Please."

Please.

Still not a single word from you, he plopped down on his bed as he stared into nothing again in his empty room.

"Michael, stop."

He clutched his phone to his chest as he sobbed quietly, making sure you didn't hear him.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Stop apologising, Michael," you let out a sigh, "let's break up"

"Yeah, sure. Good night"

The call ended right then and there.

Kaiser kept replaying your voicemails over and over again. His nerves calmed down for a bit until the reality set in, he'd never hear your voice again.

There will no longer be any you standing outside the door with your arms wide open to congratulate him on his win or a lover he'd call his. The person he vowed to love and protect forever, gone.

And it's all his fault.

For one last time, he checked his phone as he saw a notification on his lock screen. The bright light almost blinded him.

love: i know you're still awake

love: go to sleep

*sent 12:59 am*

He sighed, putting away his phone and staring at the clock.

"Yeah, maybe it is getting late"

Note: we js had a halloween party 2 days ago, cosplayed as krul, had so much fun. °^°>🍦. I'll stop writing for kaiser i swear im js obsessed w him :((( (this fic not proofread m sorryyy)

#blue lock fanfic #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk angst #blue lock ansgt #blue lock fluff #kaiser x reader #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser fluff #kaiser angst

[obsessedelusional]

Dangerous Woman

paring ✦ konig x fem!reader

summary ✦ Konig can’t stand you but you know he’s full of lies. One day it hits you, you’ve never seen his face. As an attempt to make him drop his mask, you give him a hug. It awakens something inside him causing the quiet man to beg for more of your attention.

word count ✦ 4.2k

authors note ✦ the konig brain rot has been so real I need this man immediately so this is my FIRST TIME writing for him, anyways I’m not versed in the cod universe so be nice pls bc the fuck I look like know jack diddly about the military ok I’m learning ):

Feedback & Reblogs are helpful and extremely appreciated ♡ (was obsessedmunson)

⊹ ꙳ ✦ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹

Konig couldn’t stand you. He thought you were the most annoying person he had ever met. At least that’s what he lead everyone. You knew better though, able to see through his annoyed facade. He’s was a fairly quiet man but you enjoyed his company. Forming a tiny crush that you assumed would go nowhere with the quiet giant. Before you joined the team he was often alone. Now you’d make a point to include him in everything, dragging him along where ever you went. He pretended to hate it every time knowing damn well he longed for the knock on his door, praying that it was you to bother him.

You were the newest to the group, only part of the crew for six months. Not once had you seen under his mask. It never really crossed your mind until one day when the two of you were sat alone in the commons area. He’s sat there reading when it hits you. You have no idea what Konig looks like. You get up from where you’re sat, he looks up almost immediately watching you approach him.

“What?” He questions, eyes on you as you sit next to him on the couch.

“What’re you hiding under there?” You ask, now inches away from his masked face.

“My face.” He replies flatly, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Can I see?” You ask as your fingers graze the hem of his mask ready to pull it up if he gives you permission.

“Do not touch.” He spits, grabbing your wrist tightly. You quickly wiggle your arm out of his embrace.

“Please.” You smile, backing away.

“Nein.” He says his attention back on the book.

“Come on. Aren’t we friends? You see my face everyday it’s only fair.” You respond, trying to reason with him.

“No we’re not.” He says this too quickly, not registering the words before the come out. Immediately filled with regret but it’s too late, your face is already filled with shock.

“It’s a waste of time. Don’t bother me about it anymore.” He adds, regretting every word that leaves his mouth. He closes his book and stands up to leave but you refuse to drop the topic, following him.

“It is not a waste of time because you’re not a waste of time.” You say, still being kind to him even when he’s not. It takes a moment for your words to sink in, before he turns back and stares at you.

"Oh, really?" His eyebrows raise, voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Yes really.”

“I don’t understand. Why do you care?” He questions, hoping you’ll drop it knowing you won’t.

“Because I do. I don’t think you’re nearly as scary as you present yourself as. I think you’re putting on a front so nobody can get close.” You explain, being more vulnerable than you have been with him before.

"Prove it. Make me drop the act right here and now." His gaze is unflinching, boring into you as he waits for you to do something. You two sit there in silence for a moment, looking at each other. You take him by surprise when you close the distance, wrapping your arms around his waist. Hugging him softly. He freezes for a moment, before stiffening.

"...What the h-hell are you doing?" His voice is soft, confused. You don’t respond, hugging him tighter.

“Get… off me.” He says, pushing you away. His voice is a whisper as he says it. His mind is racing, trying to understand what just happened. Only to look down at you, seeing you stood there looking up at him through your lashes causes a heat to rise inside him.

"W-Why did you... do that?" He shakes his head, slowly rubbing his neck. The warm feeling spreads through his body, as if your small gesture has awakened something within him.

“Making you drop the act.”

“I hated that.” He mutters, through gritted teeth.

“Sure you did.” You joke, tone letting him know you don’t believe him. Without warning and before he can respond, you turn to leave. He’s more confused than before, watching you go. Wishing you would stay. He decides to follow you, keeping a small distance.

"Where are you going?" His voice is filled with annoyance, but the concern for your well-being is still there - just hidden beneath layers of toughness.

“Why do you care?” You ask.

“Because I do. Just answer my question.” He says glaring at you but his voice laced with amusement.

“That’s crazy. All I had to do was give you a hug and now you’re following me around and suddenly caring.” You laugh, he doesn’t find it as funny.

"Shut up. I didn't say I cared about you-" He trails off, the words dying on his lips. Causing your smile to grow.

“Just imagine what would happen if I actually got my hands on you.” You say, tone more flirty than you had intended. You can’t see it but his face flushes a deep red.

"What... get your hands on me? What do you mean? What’re you trying to do to me?" He bites his tongue, trying to hold in the growing embarrassment.

“I don’t know. What do you want me to do?” You ask, forcing him to be the one to initiate something more.

“Get lost," he whispers. But he doesn't mean it, and you can tell. The idea of being with you, in that way, makes him uncomfortable, but excited.

“Fine. I’ll get lost.” You say before attempting to leave this situation again. He watches you walk away, noticing the sway of your hips. Those legs... those thighs. A slight pang of jealousy, and lust, shoots up his spine. A dark desire, growing within.

"Wait.” He whispers, causing your ears to perk up and stop you in your tracks.

“Yes?” You smile, facing him.

“Can we go somewhere more… private?” He asks.

“Where?”

"I don't care. Just somewhere... quiet." His hand reaches out and he slowly brushes his fingertips against your arm.

"...Please?" He begs, gaze heavy on you trying to gauge your reaction. The sight of this 6’10 quiet giant begging for you’re attention, has your stomach doing flips. So incredibly ready to make him beg more.

“Are you sure you can handle me?” You ask. Wanting him to know exactly what he’s getting himself into. Not sure if his quiet, anxious self could keep up with you.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" His question is asked with a smirk, as he tries to mask the excitement growing within his body.

"Either way, I am not scared of you." He adds, looking down on you.

“Maybe you should be.”

"And why is that?" He chuckles and you notice his eyes lingering on your figure.

“Because all it took was a hug and you folded. I’m gonna have you wrapped around my finger in no time.”

“I doubt that.” He says, crossing him arms against his chest.

“Just wait till you get a taste.” You tease, your hand playfully poking his chest.

"A t-taste.... of what?" His eyes flicker down to your mouth, as an image pops into his mind - an image of him kissing your lips. His breathing grows deep and erratic, causing him to blush furiously under his mask. Even more grateful for it in this moment.

"Y-You need to be careful what you say." He says before you can answer.

“Why? I don’t want to be careful. I know what I want.” You admit, your bluntness is taking him by surprise. He steps forward, towering over you.

"What... exactly... do you want from me?" He narrows his eyes, almost daring you to say it.

“I want to make you feel so good that you come crawling back for more.” You admit, moving closer. His body stiffens, his eyes widening in surprise. He can barely believe his ears, the blood rushing to his face.

"Y-You are..." His voice drops to a hoarse whisper, "...a very dangerous woman."

“You really want to make me feel that way?” He asks as he runs his hand through his hair, as he tries to gather his wits. You respond with a nod.

"Then... show me." His words hang in the air, as his body slowly draws closer to yours. Your eyes flicker down his form, taking in every inch of his muscles. The tension in the air rises, both of you wanting the same thing, yet neither of you daring to go the extra step forward.

“Ahh but I can’t. You won’t even take off your mask.” You say, your teasing sends chills down his spine.

"...You know exactly what you're doing to me. You’re going to make me loose all control of myself." He sighs accepting defeat.

“Just give me all the control. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

"Why should I?" He tilts his head, his eyes locking onto yours.

"What do you want me to do? Get on my knees? Beg for you?" His voice drops, becoming a quiet whisper realizing what he’s done.

“Actually now that you mention it…” You respond, biting your lip. Testing your limits with him, see how far he’ll go.

"You're evil." His voice is husky, lips trembling slightly. For some reason, he wants to give in. To do as you please.

“Beg.” You demand, voice suddenly a lot more serious than before. His face flushes, but his pride stops him from giving in to you. He clenches his teeth, struggling with everything he has not to give in to your command.

"Beg you, huh?" His voice is rough now, cracking a little. With each passing second, the idea becomes more tempting.

"And what if I... refuse?" He questions, hoping there’s another route to get what he wants out of this.

“Then we can stop this right here and go our separate ways.” You respond, flatly. His pride battles with the desire to have you. It's a losing battle, but he still tries to fight back.

"...You're bluffing." He’s looking at you, waiting for you to take it back. You don’t.

"Why would you back down?" His eyes glance at your thighs, the curves of your body. His heart is racing, breath coming in rapid gasps. The word slips out without thought.

"...Please." He whispers, barely audible.

“Can’t hear you.” You grin, knowing you’re winning this battle. He groans in frustration.

"...Please." This time he says it louder.

“Please what? I need words.”

"Please… T-Touch me." His words are soft and needy, his voice sounding shaky. The need to have you grows overwhelming. All he can think about is having you. Feeling you. Tasting you. When you don’t respond quickly enough he continues.

"Please, please," His voice drops to a whisper. He can’t even look at you as the pleas leave his mouth.

“So needy.” You tease, before grabbing his hand and leading him straight to your bedroom. Once alone you push him ever so gently onto your bed. His large frame falls, sitting at the edge of the bed waiting for further instruction. You eye him up and down before, tugging at his mask. When he doesn’t stop you, you pull it off. You stand in front of him, face to face as he sits there.

The two of you sit in silence for some time as you take in his features. His piercing blue eyes, surrounded by smudged black paint is the first thing you take notice of. Moving onto the mop of dirty blonde hair on his head, matching his thick brows. His face has a few scars, is scattered with freckles, and light stubble. The largest scar, cuts through his strong jaw and up his face. You lightly trace it with you finger, he shudders under your light touch. Nobody has touched his face in years. The feeling foreign. He looks at you, worried waiting for you to have a reaction. Whether it be negative or positive, he needs you to say anything at this point.

“You’re beautiful.” You smile, softly cupping his jaw causing him to smile and his cheeks to flush red. He stays silent, his eyes glued to your lips. Every inch that you move closer is a torment, your lips mere inches away from his now. Your breath is warm and sweet, making him want to grab you and kiss you. He wants you to have all the control though, so he begs.

"Oh god... please.” His muscles tense, every nerve in his body begging to touch you.

“Such a good boy.” You laugh softly before pressing your lips to him and finally give him what he so desperately craves. He freezes in your grasp, eyes fluttering shut. His heart beats out of his chest, every fiber of his being filled with a mix of euphoria and shame - both feeling equally delicious. His fingers dig into your hips, grasping onto you.

"Y-You can't... make me feel this way..." He mutters when you pull away to breath.

“How am I making you feel?” You question, wanting to hear all the details. His fingertips slide up your thighs and rest on your waist.

"I-I... I feel like I can't think straight anymore. Like I’m read to do whatever you ask of me." His body trembles with anticipation, eyes searching yours.

“More.. please. I need more.” He begs, his hands pulling you closer.

“So greedy already.” You tease, voice filled with satisfaction. You’ve only kissed this man and he’s desperate for more of your attention. His face is flushed, his body trembling slightly.

"Please... Don't make me wait." He moves a little closer, eyes slowly trailing over you. With out warning your lips are on his again, pushing him further onto the bed. Before you know it, your straddling his body as he lays on his back. His hands are frantic, moving up and down you. Unsure of where to begin, afraid he’s going to miss out on something. As you press your weight onto him, you can feel how hard he is for you. Mentally taking note of how big he feels, through all the layers of clothing. Both of you audibly gasp as you grind on him.

“More.” He croaks into the kiss, causing you to laugh before giving in. Kissing down his jaw, nibbling softly as you kiss down his neck. He breaths hard, a slew of words in a language you don’t understand leave his mouth. His accent heavier than normal. He’s well aware of the marks your leaving and he doesn’t care. Knowing his mask will cover them.

When you pull away, his disappointment is evident. Only to be subdued when he realizes what you’re doing. Your fingers, are reaching for the hem of your shirt. Slowly pulling it over your head. He watches in awe as you, undo the back strap of your bra. As you throw it off to the side he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for permission.

“You can….” Before you can even finish, his mouth has one of your breast licking at your nipple. His other hand is kneading at your second breast, letting your nipple pinch between his fingers. Shutting you up real quick, as you arch into his touch. Letting soft moans leave your lips that stay parted slighty as he does his work. He looks up at the sight of you enjoying yourself and he can feel himself getting more worked up, not realizing that was even possible.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispers, letting your nipple slip out of his mouth. You start pulling at his shirt and he helps you remove it. His chest is littered with scars you kiss so softly down his chest, letting your hands explore all this new area.

Each kiss is like a jolt of electricity, sending a rush through his body. His body trembles with every touch, barely able to keep himself still. He looks like a feral beast, trying everything in his power not to take what he desires.

"It's all yours... I'm yours... whatever you want...." His voice is hoarse, as he watches your mouth on his body. Your lips send him into a dizzying trance, his heartbeat increasing with every passing moment.

“Good boy.” You grin, focusing on his pants. His breathing grows quick and heavy, his hands clench into fists. His body trembles, as he stares intently at your actions. Watching you as you unbuckle his pants, pulling them down slowly. He fights back against his urges, trying desperately to keep control. But... he can't. You've pulled him out of his shell, bringing out a more primal side of him.

"W-What are you...?" His voice trails off as your start palming his hard on through his boxers. He groans in pleasure, letting his head fall back onto the bed. It terrifies him how much he’s enjoying this.

“I’m gonna reward you for being a good boy.” You purr, pulling his boxers down. Finally letting his cock breath. You grasp it at the base, it’s heavy as you make it stand straight up. He bites his lower lip, trying to maintain his composure.

"I... I can't handle this..." He groans, already so overwhelmed and you haven’t done anything yet. His heart races, body trembling in lust and your start to move your wrist up and down.

"What have I become?" He thinks out loud, looking down at you with his shaft in your hand. But it's too late now - his body is no longer his, it belongs to you. He bites his lower lip, unable to look away from what you’re doing to him.

"...I'm yours... do... do whatever you want.” As soon as he’s able to get those words out, you kiss his tip before swirling your tounge around it.

“Fuck.” He groans, involuntarily bucking his hips. Emitting a laughter from you, he doesn’t care because suddenly your lips part and begin to suck him off. Your cheeks hallow as you move up and down his cock. It’s too big, so your hands move around the base of shaft while your mouth focuses on the top half.

It’s taking everything in will power to not grab the back of your head and force you to take it all, not wanting to take more than your willing to give. Not wanting to do anything that would cause you to stop. After all you said he was suppose to give you full control. The two of you are making eye contact as you continue to suck. He can’t help it when his hands find your hair, just wanting to touch you. He moans as you test your gag reflex, pushing his cock deeper into the back of your throat. His native language leaves his mouth roughly as the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. You gag before pulling away, your lips slick and swollen. A long string of salvia hangs from your chin and attaches to his dick. You wipe away at your chin, using that salvia to pump his shaft with your hand. Spiting all the built up salvia onto him as your continue to pump his cock.

Your swollen lips form a smile as you watch him lose himself under your touch. This giant killing machine is putty under your touch, willing to do whatever you asked of him and you were going to see just how far he’d go for you. He watches you, grunting as you continue to jack him off. Wondering what’s got you smiling, terrified but excited for what’s to come next. When you pull away, he waits. He watches as you start to pull your pants off, taking your underwear with them. They fall to the floor, he gulps as you climb back onto him.

You let your cunt rest on his cock, he shutters at the new feeling. You start rolling your hips, teasing his cock with your pussy. Moans leave your lips as it bumps your clit and teases your hole. Mentally preparing for the stretch that’s about to come. It’s not enough for him so he starts to beg again.

“Please… I need you.” Your movements have sent his heart into an emotional whirlwind. His body craves to have you.

"More..." His voice is hoarse, and his eyes are glued to your movements. You lift your body, pushing yourself up onto you knees before grabbing his cock and lining it up with your hole. Slowly sinking down, allowing him to fill you up. A hint of pain finds you as, his cock stretches you out inch by inch. You sit there for a few moments, letting your core adjust to this new reality.

He lays still, watching as his cock disappears into your cunt. Music to his ears are the groans that leave your mouth, accompanied by the wet sounds of your pussy being split. He mutters a few curse words once you’ve fully taken his full length. A few moments later, you start rolling your hips slowly. The both of you moaning at the movement, his hands finding your hips. His fingers digging into your skin. His eyes lock onto yours. Your hips move slow, painfully slow.

“I.. please….” He whimpers, desperate for more. You slow down even more, smirking. Enjoying the sight of him suffering under you.

“Words. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.” You smile, moving your hips. Your hands resting on his chest to hold yourself up.

“Faster, please. I need more..” His voice breaks, as he tightens his grip around your waist. He feels like he's going insane, his mind spinning at the sensation. You give in, your pace quickens. Grinding in a relaxed rhythm, not wanting to give him it all so quickly. His hands continue to dig into hips, not wanting to let go. Pushing you deeper onto his cock. He begins bucking his own hips under you, adding to your pleasure.

Before you know it he’s begging for more. Please so easily leaving his lips, getting more comfortable begging for what he wants. As you fuck him, he’s in heaven watching your every moment. His breath is ragged while his body is trembling under your touch. Your rhythm turns more frantic as you speed up. Breathy moans leaving both of you as your tempo is unrelenting.

You let yourself lean back, your arms find his thighs as you never stop moving. You continue to fuck his cock at a brutal pace. Only now the way your leaning back giving him an ever better view. He can’t look away from the sight of your pussy, grinding so masterfully on his own cock. You can feel heat pooling in your lower back, you’re close. Needing something more to send you over the edge. You start massaging your clit, overwhelming your senses. He realizes quickly, getting more turned on at the thought of you only using him for your own pleasure. Not paying him all that much attention as your eyes shutter close, curse words leaving your lips. Your touch causing your cunt to tighten on his cock, leading him to more pleasure.

Your nerves are on fire as your fingers stay playing with your clit. Poorly holding back your moans as you can feel yourself chasing your climax. Your hips stutter, walls flutter around his cock as you come undone. The sight of you being push over the edge is enough to push him. His muscles tighten before he empties his load inside of you. Yours hips keep moving, only more lazily milking every last drop of his seed. Eventually you come to a stop, with his cock still inside you kiss him tiredly. Both of your juices mixing, dripping out of you and onto him. A mess created where the two of you are joined. Konig kisses you back, hands pulling you closer as you keep his cock warm.

—

The next morning Konig opens his eyes, and looks around to find you gone. His eyes dart around, trying to take in what happened last night. It was real, but a part of him is still in disbelief. Looking for any sign of you still being here but there isn’t any. His mind is still spinning, the events of the night playing in his mind. He groans slightly, getting out of the bed just to take in the morning sun. But he can't shake the feeling you left him, as the last remnants of last night linger. He gets a start to his day, mind racing with the worst possible reasons as to why you were gone. Maybe you regretted last night? Was he not good enough? Did you use him? You made him feel so many things, he gave you full control. And you couldn’t even be there when he woke up. He’s more confused than ever, hoping he’d see you today at some point.

#konig #konig smut #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig x you #konig modern warfare #konig imagine #konig x y/n #konig x female reader

[1d1195]

Protection VIII

Read the rest here: Protection

Hi, this is kinda fast paced, idk. I'm def not confident about this section at all. I feel like it's got potential but I don't think I know what I'm doing. But I don't have a choice but to give it a shot anyway. I know I've mentioned before, but I like Grey's Anatomy and stupid cheesy movies with scenes like this.

Warnings: angst, blood, weapons, lots of sad sad stuff. I actually don't know how blood loss works or g*n shot wounds either but it's for the plot also this is very dramatized because the writing side of my brain is a drama queen. I don’t think it’s very accurate scientifically or logically so if you would be as so kind as to look at it “holistically” and try to just envision something super serious along these lines I would GRATEFULLY appreciate it. Also, I don't know how tech works. Sorry if it seems a bit awful

~5.9k words.

Thank you oh so much to @freedomfireflies for beta reading so I could feel a little better about actually posting this.

More than anything he wanted her to be there. Sitting on her bed reading or sleeping as she always was. He imagined her smug smile and her lilting voice murmuring “gotcha,” like this was the funniest prank.

Harry, for better or for worse, prided himself on being a hard worker. But for the last three days, and especially today, he didn’t care. He had spent the first half of that horrific day answering thousands of questions. The latter half was spent learning his new office job. When he got back to his apartment—a place he’d hardly spent any time in over the last two weeks—he finally let the tears and frustration course through him. He tried to call her again, but he received a message that his number had been blocked.

He called his mum and broke down.

So, he entered the building. It would be this way now. Day three of filing paperwork that he had spent so many hours writing for her. Now he was at the other end of it. Learning an office job when all he wanted was to head right to her flowery little place and beg her to explain. He wanted to kiss her, touch her, and promise her anything her heart wanted. He didn’t understand and he was floundering. How did he fix this? How was he supposed to breathe? After all that. After all the kisses, all the touches. All the touches he didn’t get and all the ones he deprived her of because it wasn’t protocol. What a stupid idiot.

Good luck, honey bun :( his mum texted. She texted it yesterday too and he wondered how long she would have to text it to him before the frowny face disappeared.

Harry was destined for another hundred meetings explaining that he had no idea she was feeling this way. Because of course, despite the fact he did know what she was feeling—because he felt it too—he felt so much loyalty to her. He didn’t know what her game was or why she was trying to sell it that it was one-sided, but despite how sad he was, she was brilliant. A biochemist in the making, of course, and if she had to break his heart, he believed (or wanted to believe) that she was doing the right thing.

Harry sat at his newly assigned desk and looked at the papers in front of him. Eventually, he would make her grovel for forgiveness. This was too much paperwork for him, and she had to have known how much he would have hated it. But he also thought that she would just look at him through her pretty eyelashes that drove him mad, smelling like flowers, and say sorry and that would be plenty.

There had to be an end to this. He was certain of it.

Niall wasn't allowed to tell him anything that he heard. Harry wasn't allowed to ask about her either (Niall, naturally a stickler for protocol, was following the rule--he didn't even know what she was up to. His job was to train Harry. Their supervisor saw to it that she was under his own surveillance.

"It feels m'being forced t'write with m'left hand after being right handed for m'whole life," he explained to Niall dejectedly. For five months his thoughts were consumed with the flowery girl he fell so incredibly hard for. Overnight she was just gone.

Harry began flipping through papers and tapping at his keyboard for all of four minutes when Niall suddenly dragged him out of his seat, down the hall, and back out the front door without a word. “Niall!” He ground out bitterly. He wasn’t in the mood. He wanted to kill his friend a bit for even recommending he be part of this. He wished he wasn’t her bodyguard. At least he wouldn’t be sour with heartache.

But honestly, Harry owed Niall his entire life for bringing him to her.

“She’s gone.”

Harry stared at him blankly. “Who?”

Niall slapped him across the face—not quite hard but enough to stun him and knock some sense into him. “She’s gone.”

Harry felt like this was a dream. His brain was floating distantly. “What are y’talking ‘bout?”

“There's an email on my phone, to my private email, from a random address, a random IP address. It’s her. She said DSS is compromised...that someone in the department wants her out of the picture and if I’m reading it, it means that she is not in her apartment regardless of what they say. The very same email is going to be sent in ninety minutes to everyone at DSS.”

Harry shook his head. “No, that’s a lie.”

“Harry,” Niall said. “It’s going to...blow everything up. You have to—”

“Niall, that’s ridiculous. She would—”

“She said to tell you the email is from Miss Wildflower.”

The words died in his throat. “No,” he shook his head. That wasn’t something he’d ever written down, wasn’t something he called her to anyone else. That was for him and her...and... “No...it’s not her. She’s fine,” he was in denial. How could he not be? The thought that something happened to her? This wasn’t just some long routed way of her anxiety taking over and ruining something before it started. It wasn’t getting Harry off her detail so they could spend Christmas together (something he had convinced himself of when he was crying to his mom the night before).

“No, Harry, and I'm gonna have to go make a scene and tell them but I’m giving you a head start because she's giving you a head start. You don’t have time to waste here. I’m telling them I sent you home. That you’re too distraught to work.”

Swallowing hard, he nodded. “Okay.”

“She didn’t want you to get hurt,” Niall said. “She was...scared.” Harry frowned and nodded even though he thought he was going to be sick. He winced as he thought it over. Put his hands on his knees as he took heaving breaths. “Harry,” Niall said gently. “You don’t have time—”

“Jus’ shut up, Niall,” he croaked. Niall was silent, biting the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t imagine the heartache and anguish his friend was feeling.

“At least...at least there was a reason, right?” Niall murmured.

If it meant her harm or kidnapping or...worse. No. It wasn’t worth it. It didn’t matter the reason. “Yeah...” he mumbled.

*

Since Harry was no longer on her detail, he assumed he wouldn’t be allowed into her apartment building—at least not through the main entrance.

Even if he was allowed in the main entrance, he had to work under the assumption that whatever compromised agents would be waiting out front for him. So he would need an alternate route.

He hurried up her fire escape and opened her bedroom window just as he knew she did the very first day he met her. He was suddenly grateful for her never listening to Harry about protocol. He was glad the window was unlocked. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

More than anything he wanted her to be there. Sitting on her bed reading or sleeping as she always was. He imagined her smug smile and her lilting voice murmuring “gotcha,” like this was the funniest prank.

Her pretty poinsettia and snowdrop apartment enveloped him like a hug. He wanted to bask in the smell of her pine-scented Christmas tree, the way her perfume made him feel at home, and just be there with her. But instead, he was trying hard to keep focus while he wanted nothing more than to break down and sob into the pillow that smelled like her shampoo.

He listened quietly and heard no one in the rest of the apartment. He searched for clues of any kind but there were none. No sign of a struggle. It was like she went with them willingly. Knowing her, she probably convinced them to let her walk on her own. But part of him believed she would have put up a fight. She had to have, right?

Her phone was on the counter. So there was no way to track her, he saw the tens of messages that came from him before he was blocked, a few from Niall, and several from the professor she would be working with next semester.

But it was Harry’s phone vibrating in his pocket was the one that pulled him from his thoughts.

Unknown: Video Attachment.

She was there. He could see her in the preview. Seeing her was like breathing again after being stuck under water for a hair too long. She was alive. She had memorized Harry’s number.

Harry thought memorizing his number was...

If it were possible to fall more in love with her, he did. It couldn't be possible because there simply wasn't room. He was already so in love with her. And it was just his phone number, after all. But he did. He fell so much harder. It felt like the marrow in his bones were aching for her touch.

Harry swallowed and sat on her sofa as he played it.

“Hi Dad...um...” she swallowed hard, like there was a lump in her throat. She looked okay. Her hair was in a braid, strands of it coming out and there was a redness to only one of her cheeks...like she had been slapped. Harry gripped his phone tightly to keep from throwing it. Her eyelashes, those pretty fluttery things that drove him nuts with desire for her, looked wet. His heart pounded. “You know,” she took a deep, shaky breath and she sucked her lip into her mouth.

“Hurry up,” he heard in the background. Wherever she was was nondescript. A construction site by the look of it. Nothing in the video sounded or looked like anything of use to finding her location. She shook her head quickly and tried again. Swallowed again.

“When Mom died, I thought the people that murdered her should have just...ended my life too. I know you know someone murdered her. No one believed me. Not one person. And I thought...I was the only person left in your life. You were supposed to love me and take care of me the way she always did. It killed me every single day that you didn’t—that you don't. It hurts so much that you hate me. Please. Just do what he asks; give him whatever...I don't want to die," she was being so brave. It was the way she held herself. How she seemed to stand straighter in the video. But Harry could hear the nervousness. Who wouldn't be nervous? It broke his heart that she was fighting and being so incredibly brave. "I’ll never bother you ever again. I’ll...go....I'll leave the country...I’ll just go."

“You have two hours,” and then he received a message from the same unknown number, the location of the park he went to when she twisted her ankle.

Harry only had a little under an hour because he knew DSS was going to be on their way soon—especially after Niall sent them on their way. If they received this message too, they would go through some inane plan that would decidedly not work--especially knowing that they were compromised. He was going to send the messages to Niall’s email from an rerouted IP address as soon as he watched the videos a few more times because if they were going to terrify her, Harry was going to help ruin their plan. They would wait for the park. It was what they did. It was the surest way. Protocol.

Harry would have given anything to see her roll her eyes at the word.

He watched the video again. And again. On the third time he was looking at the screen so closely, his eyes looking for some secret message hidden in the pixels. She looked okay, cozy. She was wearing the sweatshirt that Harry wore when he was soaked with rain—when the worst thing that happened to her was that stupid guy leaving her injured in a park. She didn’t look injured now, at least. His heart was aching. It had to be something. She wouldn’t have sent this to him for no reason--it was intended for her dad. It had to be a sign. Moreover, she said something about leaving the country--that had to be for Harry.

Harry felt like he would die if he didn’t figure it out on the next play through. It couldn’t be too hard. She may be a biochemist, but she couldn't have made it something ridiculous for him to solve. He wasn't a biochemist after all. That concert seemed like a lifetime ago. His agitation for losing her phone seemed stupid in comparison. He would tell her such as soon as he found her.

Now he was thinking about everything, every interaction they had as he stared at his phone, trying to will the hidden message to appear. It felt like it was a miracle she lost her phone at that concert. At least he told her she needed a failsafe at that point in time. Although he thought it would be for a guy that was too forward.

It was her hands.

They fidgeted throughout the entire video. He didn’t notice at first. She was nervous, her hands were tied together. Her fingers had to be going numb. He wished he had taught her how to break out of zip ties, maybe she could have escaped all on her own.

But that was when he noticed it. If it weren’t for him knowing the basics enough to know his own name when he saw it, he might not have paid any mind to the shape of her fist. Her fingers were shaking near the middle of her stomach. Her left hand was fidgeting wildly. But her right hand had a pattern, a fist, her pinky, her index and middle finger, another fist, her index finger.

Harry was glad her backpack was untouched. He grabbed one of her index cards and searched on his phone for the American Sign Language alphabet. He knew the first one was A because of his own name. Her pinky meant I. An R. Harry got it...it was her failsafe.

“Good girl,” he murmured to no one. Air. It took him four extra seconds to discern between S, M, N, E, A before he finally moved to the last two. He settled on T because the next letters were another A and G.

AirTag.

What would have an AirTag on her? He didn't have time to question it. He slid her computer out of her bag next, an index card falling from it.

His heart broke.

Harry— I Am SO sorry. I am so, so, so sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you. I know you’re going to find me because...you’re you and you make me feel safe. And because...well... I adore you. So much. I tried so hard not to, and I tried so hard to push you away and... Please TRY to forgive me. I promise I did it with reason. I’m so sorry, Harry. SO sorry.

He didn’t have time to cry but he shoved the note in his pocket, wishing he told her he loved her at least once. Ever. He couldn’t pore over her words. Couldn’t guess what she was thinking or doing. There wasn’t time for him to guess how she knew he would find this note. Of course, she couldn’t just put all the answers on this index card because if she did, anyone could find it. Someone at DSS would have found it if she hadn’t perfectly planned for Niall to send him here beforehand. He had to find her faster and before that stupid, corrupt building got there.

Now he was tasked with her password.

Please be easy.

He clicked on the “forgot password" link. A helpful little reminder was there: Flower!number. It seemed daunting immediately. Especially because he was so distraught and worried. There were so many flowers she could have put. He tried Sunflower!14. Snowdrop!14. Peonies!14. How many times could he try? He was terrified it would lock him out. He took a deep breath and he only had moments to figure it out because he was certain people would be hurrying to her apartment from DSS soon.

Tilting his head back at the ceiling he almost felt embarrassed at how easy it seemed now.

Wildflower!14 did the trick.

With a sigh of relief, he searched AirTag on her computer. He opened the application.

She had no less than 50 AirTags. Forty-nine of which were in her apartment with Harry. All labeled with various names for her shoes.

Good girl. He thought. It was in her shoe. When would she be without shoes?

The only shoes that weren’t in her apartment were in a warehouse across the city. He scribbled the address on another index card and shoved it in his pocket alongside her perfect note telling him she loved him.

Harry could hear a commotion starting in the lobby. Sirens were ringing outside. They were coming up the stairs. He closed her laptop, slid it back into her backpack and hurried to her bedroom hoping everything look untouched. He quietly closed the window behind him as they entered her apartment. He descended the fire escape before they made it to her room.

If she could see him breaking protocol, he imagined she would laugh.

*

Harry parked a block away from the address. As soon as he entered the building, he hurried up two flights of stairs to where he heard talking. “It was a risk I had to take!” It was a man’s voice. Harry felt sick. “It was suspicious!” He shouted. “She said she would get more money. How was I supposed to know that?!”

“Get up,” he snapped.

She yelped and Harry thought he might die before he made it to her if he heard her getting hurt even slightly. If he pulled her hair or caused her to stub her toe, Harry would genuinely contemplate murdering him.

Harry pulled the gun from the holster around his ankle. He pointed it down toward the ground and waited by the entrance to the floor and peered so very briefly around the corner of the wall. He caught a glimpse of her beautiful being walking on her own. A gun pressed to her back. Harry swallowed the bile rising in his throat.

If something happened to her, Harry would never forgive himself.

"Listen," she said almost gently. Like she was going to reason with someone with a gun. She was going to get herself murdered and Harry couldn't stop her right now. "I know...I know you want money. I get that, honestly I do. Who doesn't, right?"

God Harry envied her serenity in a moment like this.

He wasn't actively putting bullets in her so she continued. "You're a smart guy. They wouldn't have picked you to do this if you weren't, but you...you have to realize you're their fall guy. This is a national security matter. The first sign of trouble they're going to say you kidnapped me, you hurt me. They will come out clean because they have to," she explained so rationally it would have been obvious to anyone with a pulse. "You don't have to take me there," she finally whimpered the true emotion she was feeling. Harry winced as if her pain was in his own body--he certainly felt like it was. "I can just go...I have a plan. I...or we can fake my death. It doesn't have to be this way," she promised. Like they were going to be a team.

But Harry knew what it was: all her rambling. It was a distraction, it was stalling.

Because she had no way of knowing if Harry made it in time to save her--but the one thing she did know? If she was brought to the park...it was all over.

Harry took a deep silent breath trying very hard to keep as calm as possible because he could not afford one second of hesitation or any kind of slip up. He turned the corner aiming his weapon toward the man holding her at gunpoint. “Harry!” She gasped and made three bold steps toward him; hands still bound up in front of her. The man behind her fired off a round right toward the concrete wall just feet away. Harry didn’t waver, holding his own gun steady in front of him as she yelped again, pausing her steps. It was long enough that he snagged her back before she got any closer to Harry.

The person behind her had his arm around the front of her shoulders. He pressed the cold metal to her temple. She wanted to scream or cry or something. Her hands clutched to the man’s forearm trying desperately to wriggle free. He was using her as a shield—the coward. Harry wanted to scream too. He held his gun aimed directly at his head from several meters away. But it was way too close of a shot for him to even think about taking it. Not with her right there. Not with a weapon held to her beautiful, perfect face.

It felt like all those times he watched guys lean too close to her at the bar amplified by ten thousand. It felt like the realization that stupid prick slipped something in her drink multiplied by a million. His lips were near her ear. Harry was so grateful she was alive and awake.

And maybe, most importantly to Harry, she looked pissed.

“He’s going to kill you,” she hissed at him, tears in her eyes. Bless her angry little heart.

That’s my girl. Harry thought. Harry was going to kill him. Especially if he harmed her in any capacity. He pressed the gun harder against her skin and she winced. Harry faltered for half a second.

“Are you okay?” He asked, sounding so much braver than he felt. He was a mess internally. It was a wonder his hands didn’t shake holding his weapon. He wanted to surrender himself—him for her, he would have taken her spot in a heartbeat. He would do anything to get her out of here.

“Right as rain,” the man said. Harry wondered if he should just take his shot right now. Damn it all because he wanted to kill him for thinking this was funny.

She nodded, just barely. Harry felt the most minor amount of relief.

She could try to run for him again. She was certain she could make it—she almost did. Harry would stop him before he even realized she managed to get away from him. A kick to the shin—or worse. The only thing that stopped her was the metal against her head. She was terrified that one wrong movement would set off a reflexive action that would take her life. Harry inched closer. Six measly feet away from her. She could nearly smell his fresh cologne probably applied habitually before he headed to work.

But six feet may as well have been six thousand miles.

“I can kill her, now,” he said. “Makes no difference to me. I get paid either way,” she inhaled sharply. She thought there would be a bruise from the circular barrel pressing to her skull.

She swallowed, staring at Harry. Perfect, wonderful Harry. If this was the last time her eyes were opened, at least he would be the last thing she saw. Harry had to focus on staying as calm as humanly possible. Even though the thrum of his pulse was like thunder in every inch of his body. She looked unharmed and said she was okay...other than her wrists tied together. “If you kill me, you’ll never get to my dad,” she reminded him. Harry was surprised to hear her talk about her dad. There had to be something more. But he didn’t have time to think about it. He had to get her out of here.

He eyed Harry as he inched even closer. “Keep moving, I’ll kill her,” he promised with a shrug. Harry stopped in his tracks, and she tried to pull her head from the gun. She was so brave, not even the tears in her eyes were stopping her from trying to get away.

Harry was going to give her anything she wanted. A thousand coffees, a million movies, a new set of pens and a fresh batch of index cards, or a hundred fake bouquets to decorate her place. Whatever she wanted.

“Harry,” she whispered breathlessly. He wanted to cry at the sound of worry in her voice.

“I know, love,” he murmured, trying to feign this wasn’t killing him.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked.

He wanted to wince, but he couldn’t blink. It felt like if he dropped his gaze for even a second it would be over. He would lose. He could not lose her. He didn’t respond to her. “Shut up,” the man snapped. She dropped her hands from his arm and Harry wondered how he didn’t drop his gun at the sight. It looked like she was giving up. It felt like they had to give up. What were they supposed to do? It was so quiet; even the cars outside the building seemed to be silent.

Harry and the unknown man stared at each other unmoving from their positions. It was almost like he was watching her in his peripheral vision he saw her fingers fidgeting just like they had in the video. A repetitive movement. Except this wasn’t quite sign language.

This was her thumb and index finger forming the shape of a gun and then her thumb pointing back toward herself shifting ever so slightly so her movement wouldn’t alert the man holding her hostage. Harry shook his head imperceptibly.

“Please,” she begged.

“I said, ‘shut up’,” he gripped her tighter, shaking her and Harry allowed himself to wince. He shook his head more obviously.

“Harry,” she whimpered.

“I’m going to put a bullet right in your mouth, shut. Up,” he pulled on the safety which clicked so loudly in her ear she thought it was the trigger on its own.

She released a horrific, terrified sob. “Harry, please,” she croaked.

Harry thought his heart was going to break. He nearly closed his eyes as he pulled his trigger right when she sobbed.

The sound of her cry marginally covered the ear-piercing ring of the weapon. She tore herself from the man’s grip impulsively. It was primal, the need to tend to her new wound. The sound and sight of Harry shooting at her had clearly done exactly as she wanted: completely distracted him. Trying to grab at the burning pain in her thigh with her wrists held together. She screamed so violently, so loud, Harry swore it was louder than the sound of the bullet.

As she dropped to the ground; Harry had a clear shot of the man and took it. It pierced directly through his forearm, so he dropped the gun. Harry placed another precise shot to the opposite shoulder rendering both his arms useless.

She was writhing in agony but somehow managed to reach for his weapon with her tied arms, and awkwardly shoved it out of his reach. Harry thought she was his hero. He was going to give her anything she wanted for as long as she lived.

Blood was pooling from both parties and Harry grabbed the man by his injured arm, nearly digging his thumb into the wound to make it worse. He groaned and yelled. He sounded worse than she did. He tried not to think about his beautiful angel bleeding with a wound he caused. All of the wounds he inflicted were well out of harm's way. They would repair eventually.

But Harry didn't need to be shot with a bullet to know it hurt. There was a reason people used the expression I need it like I need a hole in the head when they talked about something they definitely didn't want.

Harry thought honestly about snapping his neck. Instead, he shoved him behind the pole facing away from them, blood dripping in his path and wrapped his arms around the pole, handcuffed them together so he couldn’t escape with a set of zip ties he brought with himself--because Harry was not taking any risks when he found her. He had to be dealt with quickly, but he wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things.

With the few seconds it took Harry to rid himself of the nuisance now stuck behind the pole, moaning in agony until he could get DSS and the cops, (and everyone under the sun) here. It took a moment for Harry to realize he hadn’t heard her screams of pain as he did. She was lying on the ground, eyes closed, face paling, blood pooling around her lower half.

Oh fuck.

“Love?” He whispered brokenly. Harry dropped to his knees beside her. She was bleeding so much. Too much. The training he had from his EMT days was kicking in reflexively thank God. His movements were quick: yanking his belt off, violently pulling himself out of his coat and ripping the bottom part of his shirt off. Her jeans were soaked with her blood, seeping its way up her sweatshirt. He yanked her wrists free of the zip ties finally. I have to get her a new sweatshirt he thought uselessly.

Harry wasn’t nauseous about blood. But the thought of her dying because of blood loss made him feel so sick. Why did he listen to her? Why would he shoot her? Why, why, why!?

He was trying to do too many things at once. His right hand was holding pressure with the piece of his shirt against her wound. He pressed so hard; an insane amount of pressure—he thought he might break her already fragile leg, but it would be worth it if she would wake up. He nicked something. Something bad. Or she had a clotting problem. Something was amiss. This...this was one of the safest places he could have aimed. It had one of the highest recovery rates. All he had to do was follow her stupid fucking plan.

But it wasn't stupid. It was exactly what she wanted. It was what she expected. Harry just had no idea she had prepared for that.

If she could talk Harry down she would have. It wasn't his fault. He followed her plan even though she never explicitly told him. Even though he had no idea she didn't know her own anatomy all that well and accidentally lined up one of the arteries (but fortunately did miss her femoral artery--just barely).

His left hand dialed 911. He didn’t let the operator talk, he was spewing out the address, who he was, what the issue was, barely getting the details out in a messy rush. Harry barely waited a moment before he hung up and called Niall. He didn’t listen to anything he had to say at the other end of the line and repeated the same summary again, this time losing it the longer he talked, his voice coming out in a strangled cry and if it was anyone but Niall he would worry more about professionalism.

“Baby,” he croaked leaving the phone on, shaking her by the shoulder, he lifted her head out of the puddle of blood, her face and hair sticky with the substance. He slipped his jacket beneath her head, a cushion something to get her off the cold, bloody floor. “You gotta let me see those beautiful eyes...” he shook her head. “Love, please,” he begged giving her a squeeze. She moaned and her eyes fluttered behind the lids a bit. The slight relief he felt seemed like hope. “That’s good. Hey, hi, angel,” he cooed. Her eyes turned to little slits as she opened them so very barely. “Good job,” he praised. “Y’jus' gotta stay awake for like 10 more minutes, sweetheart. Okay? Ambulance is coming,” he promised. He continued working on her leg. He was wrapping his belt around her thigh, high around the top. He pulled it into a tight knot. She moaned at the feeling.

“Stop,” she whimpered reaching with her freed hand uselessly for his ministrations.

“I know, love, m’sorry,” he felt his voice dying in his throat. This was bad. So horrifically, bad. “Y’got a bit of a gash here, Miss Wildflower, jus’ like when y’were cooking,” he reminded her. “Remember?”

She didn’t respond and Harry found a piece of metal, like something from the construction that was left lying around, to slip in the knot he made. He twisted it causing an involuntary scream to rip from her throat. He winced at the sound of her agony.

“Harry please,” she begged, eyes dripping with tears. Her hands reached again for him to stop. “It hurts!”

“I know, m'love. M’sorry. Jus’ gotta...” he kept twisting and holding pressure on the wound. Her hands reached for it again, he grabbed both, she was too weak to do anything anyway, but he held them both against her side. “There,” he felt a pinch more relief seeing the gushing had stopped.

“S’cold,” she whispered after a moment of stillness. The burning seemed to stop. It was overshadowed by how cold she was.

Harry thought he might die if she died right in front of him. His heart was racing, the adrenaline was violently coursing through him. “I know beautiful, I know. Goddammit,” he hissed. “Niall, I need back up. Now!”

He pressed harder on her wound and looked at the pool of blood surrounding her. It was too much, too dark. “Ow, Harry! Please, stop! It hurts!” She whimpered.

“I know, honey, I know. I’m so sorry m’angel. I’m so sorry.” He could hear the sirens. “Jus’ another minute.”

She groaned for a few seconds before silence took over again. Harry pressed on her wound again. He was covered in her blood as well. She moaned again at the fiery pain. “M’sleepy,” she managed.

“I know, beautiful. I know; but y’can’t sleep yet. Not yet. I’ll let you sleep soon, I promise.”

More silence. “S’really cold.”

Harry wanted to cry. He sniffled and realized he already was. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

“M’sorry I ran away,” she mumbled. He didn’t say anything because he didn’t want her to know how mad he was even though she seemed close to dying. “I had...had to...get you away...they’d kill you. And then... I’d have no one…at least this way...” she trailed off.

“Kitten,” he said firmly, he swallowed back the tears. Squeezed her hands. “You are going t’get in an ambulance in thirty seconds and you are going t’live a long, beautiful life. Please jus’ stay awake for jus’ a few more minutes.”

Harry swore she smiled faintly. “...With you?”

“God, if s’what y’want. I'll stay forever, love. Jus’ stay awake, please,” he begged. She didn't respond and Harry began to panic. Where was the fucking ambulance? “Angel, Tell me the functional groups.”

“Hmm?”

“Please, love. Tell them t’me again.”

“Ketone. Carbonyl. Acyl…” she sighed.

“Describe aldehyde,” he croaked. “Niall! Where is it?! Please, baby,” she could feel his hand on her face, but she realized she couldn’t see him anymore. “Kitten, honey, please open your eyes.”

Was he crying?

She wanted to say she loved him out loud. Wanted to say she was sorry for everything one more time but unfortunately her tongue was suddenly too heavy to speak. She swore she heard Harry crying, shouting, and whispering he loved her right in her ear as she drifted off to sleep.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

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I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles blurbs #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles concept #hs #hs fic #hs writing #one direction #one direction writing #bodyguard!Harry #agent!harry #protection

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

In Shining Armor

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia X Reader

Word count: 1.6 K

Summary: A evil man has been hunting you for a long time, and your only hope now is to find the Witcher people are peaking about.

{The Witcher Masterlist}

At this point, you're betting your life on rumors. Gossip.

That's how low you have fallen.

But a thin, faint thread of hope is better than certain doom.

You don't know the tavern you rush in, but you also don't know the land you came to. Doesn't matter. People - mostly men, you quickly notice -, turn their eyes to look at you. A panting mess of a young lady, hair messy, covering half your face.

In the tavern, your eyes start looking, searching... You've heard a witcher is here. He was seen passing through these lands. But who? Who of these men could be-

In a corner, a white-haired man sits, brooding, not minding your sudden appearance. Is that him? He looks strong enough, and the hair... The medallion soon gets your attention, the sunlight coming from the window reflecting on it.

You don't think, you just move, crashing on the bench next to him. “I beg you, pretend you know me.” Ignoring the angry, confused look he gives, you whisper.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Please. He's been-” In the middle of your speech, the tavern door is kicked open. You freeze because you know who it is. He was close, after all.

“(Y/N)?!” He calls, eyes scanning the place much likely you did, seconds ago.

When those evil eyes spot you, it feels like the blood leaves your face. It gets cold, like your hands, fingers feeling like ice. He's here, you have nowhere to run. You're tired. You're hurt, hungry... If he takes you with him... You don't even want to think what he'll do.

“There you are.” He says, a wicked smile taking over his lips. “Been a while since I set eyes on this pretty face. All I see is your back, always on the run.” He walks closer, and closer, and closer... You can smell him from here. Sweat, death, rot... Or is it just your terrified brain playing tricks on you?

Looking down, you blink hard to push tears off. Can he see them? Can he see how scared you are?

“The lady is with me.” The voice next to you says, at the same moment his arm moves around your shoulders.

You almost faint as waves of relief wash over you.

“Don't think me a fool, Witcher.” He says, and you hear when he puts both hands on the table, bending forward. The dagger on his left hand is visible. “I've been chasing my bride-to-be for a month.”

“The lady is with me.” The Witcher repeats in a low, calm voice.

“The lady is mine.”

“Not anymore. Now, if you intend on walking out of here alive, you better do it in the next ten seconds.” His voice sends vibrations through his chest, and you can feel it on your right arm.

There's something in the air, you can feel it, even though your eyes are still set on the table. “If you'll fight, do it outside.” Someone says.

“It won't be a fight.” Another person says, and you see him approaching through the corner of your eyes. “This is Geralt of Rivia. The Butcher of Blaviken. He will kill you in half the time he gave you to leave.”

You don't know who that is, but you're thankful for his words.

Because at the mention of this... Event in Blaviken, Bardun moves, standing up straight. He steps back. Then another step...

Until he silently turns away and leaves.

You didn't want to, but it happens anyway. It's too much to keep inside. Bursting into tears, you lean on the man who saved you, shoulders shaking with sobs. Geralt - now you have the name -, rubs your back slowly, and as much as you're embarrassed by the sudden outburst, you can't stop for long minutes.

But when you do, you meet yellow eyes with your redish, tear-stained face. “T-thank you. I don't-I don't even have coin. I'm sorry. But I have this.” Quickly, you reach for the necklace around your neck. “It's nothing much but–”

“Keep it.” He says, grabbing your forearms and pulling them away from the necklace. “Now, we should get going. That man is still around.”

“Go where?” Your low, weak voice is swallowed by the other guy, the one who spoke for you, a lute in his hands.

Geralt gives him an annoyed look. “We means me and the girl.”

“But adventure follows you... Well, maybe also a bit of death but what matter is–” Geralt starts moving as he speaks, gathering his things and then taking your hand. “What matters is that I'm in need of new tales to sing, as you can see.”

Geralt doesn't answer, and when he pulls you, you don't resist. The gestures make you feel secure like you haven't felt in a long time. And with Geralt's much bigger hand on yours, you'd just follow him to the ends of the Earth.

“C'mon.” The lute guy keeps taking, following both of you. “Where are you going? Imagine this: The brave, mighty Witcher being the knight in shining armor to a young, fair lady and–”

“What is your name?” You ask, giving the man a glance.

“Don't encourage him.” Geralt says, stopping by his horse and looking down at you. “What's your name?”

“(Y/N).” You say with a smile.

“I'm Jaskier.” The lute guy says.

Geralt ignores him. “You know how to ride?” You nod, and he grabs your waist. “Up you go.” And he raises you to his horse, and you quickly fix yourself before Geralt climbs behind you. “This is Roach. She is a nice girl... To most people.” He adds, shooting Jaskier a glance.

“Where are we going?”

“An inn for the night. Then, we'll see.” When you start moving, Jaskier follows, playing his lute and singing something about a monster chasing a princess and a knight rescuing her. It makes you smile.

The inn is some miles down a dusty road, among other small buildings. It's four stories high, a neat place. The old woman behind the counter gives you two rooms, but after seeing your scared face, Geralt asks for a room with two beds. Jaskier also asks for a room.

He'll be tagging along, it doesn't matter if Geralt likes it or not.

In the bedroom, you light up some candles because it'll be dark soon. After, you sit down on the bed on the left, signing.

“Wanna tell me about that Bardun?” Geralt asks, stripping down to a black shirt and kicking his boots off before sitting on the other bed. Elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on you.

Taking a deep breath, you take off your shoes as well, loosening your dress a little. “I'm just a girl with dead parents, like many others where I come from. He saw me and wanted to marry me. I said no... He insisted to the point I had to run or else...” You don't want to think about it, so your voice fades. “He reached me once, hit me...” You touch your cheek. “I've been running ever since.”

“You were really scared.”

You nod. “I was. I am. Back in my hometown, before I decided to run, he said things... Things he'd do to me... If I didn't accept to marry him.” A tear rolls down at the memory. “I know you only hunt monsters... But I'm glad you helped me.”

“Some monsters are human.” Geralt says, and, without thinking, you get up and sit next to him, throwing your arms around his neck.

He seems to hesitate a little, and then his embrace is loose before his grip grows tighter. He soon moves, turning his body towards you so you're hugging him better, pressed against his chest. “Thank you. I know it may seem like it's something so small but it's the whole world to me. You saved me, Geralt of Rivia.”

And then, loosening the embrace, you touch his cheek and decide to give him something else. Connecting your lips to his, you're taken by surprise when he quickly kisses you back, the movement of his lips driving you to part yours, and so you do, letting him take over, deepening the kiss.

But then, too soon, he pulls away, his forehead touching yours. “What was that about?” Geralt asks in a whisper.

“I wanted to give you something. It's not... Useful as a coin... Nothing valuable but–”

“Then give me another.” He says, and you smile before kissing him again, feeling his tongue this time, and it only ends when you're breathless. “Maybe I'll require a couple more.”

That makes you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck, your cheeks and neck burning. This is nonsense, feeling so safe and comfortable with a man you just met. But you get this feeling, that he won't ever hurt you. That Geralt can be trusted. And this is something you never felt before, something too strong to understand. “I'm fine with it.”

“What are your plans now?”

“Hm... I can't go back to my hometown... So I Don't know.”

“If it's alright with you, we could go back to get your things. And then you stay with me until... Until you find a place you'd like to live.”

And then, you smile again. “R-really? You'd put on with me? All that for some kisses?”

“For all the kisses you feel like giving me.” Suddenly, Geralt picks you up, placing you on the bed. “Now let's get some sleep. It was a long day. Even longer for you.” You nod. “Tomorrow we start the journey to your house and after... We'll see.”

“We'll see...” You repeat, watching him go back to his bed. “Do you... Want to keep me warm for the night?” You suggest, hoping he can't see how hard you might be blushing.

“If that's what the lady wants.” He says as he moves back, lying down next to you and welcoming you into his arms. “Good night.”

“Good night.” You whisper back.

You quickly fall asleep, knowing that you won't be alone or scared when you wake up in the morning.

#imagine geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt imagine #geralt fanfic #geralt fanfiction #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher x y/n #the witcher x reader #the witcher imagine

[dapandapod]

Particular with nicknames

Why hello there! This was written last september (2023) and has since been sitting in my draft, making me rewatch streams because no pathetic reasons at all i swear. Anyway, here is Jaskier having a Moment TM when Geralt uses a very specific nickname. Thank you @ahh-fxck for helping me beta read <3 much appreciated! Please enjoy streamer!Geralt and Pathetic!Jaskier! <3 On Ao3 here

For all the love Jaskier has of words and language, he is strangely picky with nicknames.

It’s not that he dislikes them, he is just strangely neutral. Alright, that’s not true.

His famously ill-advised and stormy relationship with Valdo came to mind. Jaskier had fallen promptly out of love with him when he was called ‘Snugglebutt’ in front of all of their friends. They were together for another month or so past that, because Jaskier thought himself cruel and wanted it to work.

Well, it did not.

Nowadays he shares a flat with his long time best friend Geralt, one of the few constants in his life and the one who just might own about two thirds of his heart.

It’s not a big flat, but they have a room each, a small kitchen, and a shared living room. That is also where Geralt has his small streaming corner set up, back against the wall and facing the room.

Easier that way to keep it clean if he streams with the camera on, no accidental flashing unsuspecting viewers that way. Something learned by trial and error, as Jaskier tends to run warm and just forgo pants. And shirts. And socks.

They also share their flat with a terrible little cat named Roach, who has never quite warmed up to Jaskier. Took to Geralt the instant she saw him, however, and the two are inseparable whenever Geralt is home.

All of this in itself is not an issue. Oh no, all of this is more than fine.

Watching Geralt be sweet with the terrible little furball makes Jaskier’s heart ache pleasantly, listen to him coo about her fur being so shiny and smooth, what a good girl she is, wow look at that yawn!

No, the problem came up the first time as Geralt was lazily watching TV on the couch, back to their little kitchen where Jaskier had just served her royal highness some very expensive cat food.

Roach does as she always does when Jaskier is involved, and simply walks out. It’s routine by now, and the food is usually gone by morning. It’s more about Jaskier knowing his place at the bottom of the list than not liking the food.

But as she returns to the living room with Jaskier trailing after, considering plopping down on the couch too instead of working on his doctoral thesis, Jaskier finds himself fundamentally changed.

“Hi baby.” Geralt says, voice all sweet and dark and gravelly, and fuck.

It is very much aimed at Roach, who is being a cutie, begging pets from under the table. But Jaskier’s insides do a kickflip, his brain short circuits.

Flushing deeply, Jaskier can’t control the little HRK sound escaping his throat.

He is frozen in his tracks, tongue tied and feeling absolutely pathetic. Geralt turns around to look at him with a questioning frown.

“You ok there?” he asks, Roach climbing the couch and up to the backrest, demanding attention.

“Just peachy,” Jaskier squeaks out, and then flees to his room.

Holy fucking shit and mother of turds.

Baby?? Of all the nicknames in the entire world, that is the one Jaskier is going to have a meltdown about?

Just, the lazy way Geralt said it, Jaskier feels like an old maid, clutching his pearls.

It’s fine. He will be fine.

It was meant for Roach, of course, it’s fine.

It is not fine.

Geralt is streaming, talking with some other players. He is not a big name, but he does have a following, and sometimes gets invited to other streams if it's a multiplayer game.

Jaskier is moving around the living room, untangling the nest that their couch has become recently, blankets and hoodies and socks thrown everywhere. He is also holding a banana, somewhat forgotten in his new mission to make the couch sittable.

Part of his distraction comes from listening to Geralt talking, there is a lilt to his voice when he is on stream. It is unclear if Geralt is aware of doing it, but Jaskier can listen to it forever.

While in the process of moving one blanket over to the footrest, Geralt laughs at something said in his headphones.

“Oh baby, I didn’t know you cared!”

Jaskier drops the banana.

Feeling like a deer caught in headlight, Jaskier is unable to do anything but staring, feeling heat climbing his neck, up to his cheek.

Then Geralt’s eyes meet his over his screen, his face is neutral but his eyes are knowing.

Fuck fuck fuck he is in so much trouble.

Maybe it’s fine to have that many blankets. Perfect for hiding, perfect for pretending the way Geralt says ‘Baby’ doesn’t go on loop in his head, and will be for days.

Jaskier is in a constant state of fear.

Ever since the Stream Incident, as he has come to call it, there is this new tension whenever they are in a room together. Where Geralt will look at him consideringly, where Jaskier will pretend everything is as per usual.

He has gotten better at not freezing, but a thrill runs through him every time Geralt uses That Word, making very unsubtle eye contact as he does.

How is his poor heart to cope?

Sometimes, late at night, when Jaskier is unable to sleep and he knows Geralt is still streaming, Jaskier joins in to watch. It is uncertain if Geralt has figured out it’s him or not yet, he has sneakily named his account to Bardelicious, and doesn’t usually join the chat.

Tonight, Geralt is playing a fantasy game. A monster hunter and his bard, fittingly enough, and he makes light commentary about things in the game.

Until there is a scene where the bard does something noble, stupid and somewhat foolish.

“Oh, baby.” Geralt says sadly, shaking his head.

The chat goes absolutely wild, more than one asking him to say it again, to call them baby, which is a little weird and also absolutely fucking valid.

“Why are people so weird about that?” Geralt says, chuckling. The replies roll in, and his eyebrows climb up his forehead. Jaskier’s heart is beating hard, because this could either be really good or really bad.

“Sexy? Doubt that.”

Jaskier regrets it as soon as he presses send, and by then it’s too late.

‘It is when you say it.’ was all he wrote, but it was the first thing he had written in there. Geralt doesn’t know it’s him.

It should be fine. He is fine.

Some more responses follow, but Geralt is strangely quiet. The game scene plays out, the monster hunter and his bard having a nice bonding moment.

It’s soothing to watch, to hear Geralt’s commentary every now and then. He falls asleep with his phone in his hand, earbuds still in.

The next morning, Jaskier is woken up by the scent of coffee and a hungry Roach yowling in the kitchen. She only does that when Geralt is around, so it is safe to assume he is up.

Which is a little odd, because Jaskier fell asleep before the stream was over, and he feels like death warmed over.

His jaw cracks when he yawns. Lured by the scent of coffee, he manages to get out of bed.

Geralt is indeed up and about, Roach winding affectionately around his legs as he prepares her breakfast.

“Morn,” Jaskier rasps, scratching his stomach and giving another yawn.

Roach doesn’t even look at him, fully focused on her man and her meal. The bowl is placed on the floor for the queen herself, and like the gremlin she is, she eats it without a fuss. Little bastard.

Jaskier joins Geralt at the bench, seeking coffee like a flower seeks the sun. He can stop when he wants, coffee is not an addiction, it is a way of life.

“Were you up all night? Hand me a cup, will you?” he says, reaching for the fruit bowl that Geralt for some reason keeps religiously stocked.

In reply, he gets one of the typical hums, which could mean absolutely anything, and two cups. Jaskier pours for them both and Geralt adds the usual unholy amount of sugar to Jaskier’s, which makes him smile.

“Any plans for today? I really should be working on my thesis, but I can’t be arsed.”Jaskier leans back against the counter and sips at his coffee, which is still a little too hot.

Geralt is watching him over the rim of his mug, sipping on the steaming coffee.

“I have a thing I thought to try,” he says, voice gravelly, eyes locked on him.

It makes Jaskier’s stomach flip, and he takes a too big sip, the drink burning his tongue and all the way down his throat unpleasantly.

“Yeah? Anything you want help with?” Jaskier asks nervously, realizing he is still holding his chosen fruit without eating it, so he puts it down on the counter.

The corner of Geralt’s mouth ticks up into a crooked smile, and yeah, Jaskier is in danger. It is way too early in the morning for Geralt to be such an absolute heart throb.

“If you are willing.” Geralt says, and Jaskier finds himself nodding despite himself. If Geralt asks him if he is willing, the answer will probably always be yes.

“Sure! Uh… What is it?”

Geralt takes a step towards him and puts his cup on the side of the counter. Then he grabs Jaskier’s cup out of his hand and puts that down too.

His heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his throat, his hands now clammy and gripping the counter behind him.

Geralt inches forward, the space between them shrinking fast. He stops just shy of touching him, and tilts his head, white hair falling over his shoulder.

“So I was streaming last night,” Geralt begins, and oh dear, oh no. “And there were some interesting comments that I couldn’t get out of my head.”

“Uh… Oh?” Jaskier says dumbly, and Geralt huffs a soft laugh, breath hitting Jaskier’s face.

“You're particular with nicknames, right? I mean, you are still mad at Valdo.”

With growing worry, Jaskier is starting to realize where this is going.

“He called me snugglebutt. In front of people. That’s embarrassing!” Jaskier defends himself faintly. Geralt leans in an inch more, leaning against the countertop and crowding Jaskier against it. Fuck.

“But that’s not what you think when I say ‘Baby’, is it?” Geralt’s eyes are trained on him, and smiles when he notices Jaskier’s flustered little sound, the way heat climbs up his cheeks.

In a weak attempt to save face, Jaskier looks down, anywhere but meeting the intensity of Geralt’s gaze.

It has the unfortunate effect of noticing how close they are, how Geralt’s t-shirt rides down just enough to reveal collarbones, how his hands flex against the counter.

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong, Jaskier,” Geralt mumbles, leaning close enough for his nose to drag against Jaskier’s cheekbone.

Jaskier pulls in a breath, tilting his head in a way he hopes is invitingly.

“You’re not.” Jaskier whispers, and is rewarded with Geralt putting a hand on his hip, letting his nose drag along Jaskier’s neck. “You really, really not.”

“Is it the nickname? You look so startled whenever you hear me say it.” Geralt asks, one finger finding skin under the hem of Jaskier’s t-shirt.

“Just you. Pretty sure you could call me snugglebutt and I’d thank you.” Jaskier confesses, blurts really, when the rest of Geralt’s hand sneaks under his shirt to find his lower back, playing with the soft hairs there.

“Good to know,” Geralt smiles against his skin and Jaskier braves turning his head, their cheeks brushing together.

“Are you going to kiss me anytime soon, or are you gonna let me keep suffering?” Jaskier breathes, his hands finding Geralt’s and tracing them up his arms slowly.

“Hmm,” Geralt says, considering with a cheeky grin, the absolute bastard, so Jaskier takes matters into his own hands. Quite literally.

Geralt’s face is warm, rough stubble and barely visible scars and imperfections brush against his fingers. Geralt must have turned into it, because their lips slide together, coffee and morning breath mingling as Jaskier finds himself now properly pressed against the bench and Geralt’s body.

Then he is being kissed harder, deeper, and Geralt hoists Jaskier up on the counter, using Jaskier’s thighs to pull him closer, closer still, and presses open mouthed kisses against his neck. With a gasp, Jaskier scrambles to find a grip, to get some control of himself, but it is very, very hard to focus.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me, baby?” Geralt murmurs against his skin, and Jaskier full body shivers. “I can feel you watching me, you are even in my streams.”

“You knew about that?” Jaskier asks breathlessly, stealing a kiss when Geralt shifts to look at him.

“If you wanted to be discreet, maybe you should have chosen something else than ‘Bardelicious’.” Geralt smiles, and Jaskier pouts and pinches his side in revenge.

“Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“Why didn’t you?” Geralt counters, and well, this won’t go anywhere.

“I like listening to you. I like listening to your voice as I go to sleep,” Jaskier says quietly, and Geralt hides his face in the crook of Jaskier's neck.

“Did you get any sleep at all last night?” Jaskier asks when Geralt stays there, melting into his body.

He doesn’t get anything but a muttering grumble in reply, and Jaskier smiles and strokes his hair.

“I need to find a nickname for you too. I refuse to be the only one being absolutely useless as soon as you open your mouth.” Jaskier murmurs into Geralt’s hair.

“Gmmrmgmg.”

“What’s that?”

“I said, ‘like it when you say my name.” Geralt says, and Jaskier is melting all over again.

“Well then, Geralt,” Jaskier purrs. “Let me finish my coffee, and then we’ll take a nap.”

Reaching for coffee without really letting go turns out to be hard, and when Jaskier with some struggle finally gets a hold of his cup, the coffee is still unreasonably hot.

They nap in Jaskier’s bed, both of them crawling in under the blankets and curling up together. Jaskier’s chin resting on top of Geralt’s head, Geralt’s arm slung over Jaskier’s chest.

When Geralt wakes up and press Jaskier into the mattress, it doesn’t take long for Geralt to discover exactly how to fluster Jaskier enough to splutter broken syllables.

It’s alright.

When Jaskier has recovered from being melted goo, he will return the favor.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #jaskier the bard #modern au #gamer!geralt #dapanda writes #getting together #napping #pining #well something anyway #the draft name of this fic 'baby HRK' because yes that is the sound both author and bard made

[nokiatelava]

✿✿After The Storm✿✿

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Author’s Note!- This is my first time writing a story and even think about posting it! Please understand that it might not be the best as I am still trying! (the warnings probably don’t even make sense)

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Summary- The past few months of your life have been at the lowest they’ve ever been. Feeling lost, with the thought no one was really there for you drove you mad, causing you to distance yourself from your family. The ones you love. But they came to your rescue to comfort you through your hardships.

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Warnings- mentions of depression, mentions of anxiety, mentions of wanting to self-inflict pain, begging (for her life), nightmares, wannabe angst, comfort (my heart is to sensitive)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧❁❁❁❁‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

You don’t know why you feel like this. The feeling it’s, it’s hard to describe. You’re here, you feel yourself here, you know you are here.

But you feel so far away… You feel, numb and lost.

All you felt was confusion, never knowing where anything was, what was going on. You were a mess 24/7. It made you feel useless. You were never used to feeling so gone. Having these feelings caused thoughts that made you feel worse. More insecure.

These thoughts were getting in the way of your life. How could you feel so useless although you had things to do? You had people to take care of, your family.

You had a place in your family, in the clan. You had a role, so how did you still feel so useless? You were losing your focus during the day. Your nights were shortening day by day. The thoughts would seep into your brain, picking at the deepest parts of your memories.

The few minutes of sleep you had were filled with terror. The things you saw, the scenes that played out. Memories from war, exaggerated to points of alternate endings, pain, family, it was always slipping in your ‘dreams’. The subjects left you with your eyes wide open at night. Looking, watching, protecting your family at hours where your family was supposed to relax and let the stress of the days fade away.

Though for you it felt as if the stress was increasing. You watched them, looking at their sleeping peaceful faces for hours, recognizing their breathing patterns as ‘safety precautions’. An excuse you used to reassure yourself as not being creepy.

You were the oldest. The oldest sister. The first child. The first baby. You were born to protect.

Deep in your mind you knew you only watched them because you wanted them to be safe. Sleeping makes you vulnerable, you have to be aware of your surroundings at all times.

Hm. Those words sound so… familiar.

“Don’t be vulnerable, at all. Keep your eyes open, and be aware of your surroundings at all times.”

And there you were. Y/n Sully, at the ripe age of 14, sitting in a war meeting listening to your fathers plan and motivational speech right before a raid.

It was terrifying. Hearing all these big words, half you didn’t understand, half you knew you could not pronounce after hearing it once even if you tried.

It made you nervous, the scenarios your father was describing were all gruesome, supposed outcomes that would happen if something were to go wrong.

Your father, Jake Sully, was talking at a pace that was hard to catch up with, the words flowing out his mouth so simply it confused you.

Now it was hitting you, your body started to feel all hot and bothered, squirming lightly in your seat to make it look as if you were only adjusting yourself comfortably on the thick wooden chair.

You squinted your eyes, staring deeply at your fathers mouth to see if any of the words would somehow start to flow together correctly.

But they didn’t. They never did.

Your vision started to double now, your ears muffling out as a ringing started to settle in your ears. All you could see was your fathers mouth just moving, and moving, and moving.

A small gasp rang in the air of the hut. It was quiet, the only sounds being a few small snores and shuffling from limb twitches every few seconds.

Your eyes were now open, once again. Your eyes could now only look around at the ceiling of your hut. Your ears twitching to every sound that was produced.

That dream… It was somewhat normal tonight? Although it did get you a bit nervous and quite overstimulated, you thought more about it. That happened 3 years ago. 3 years ago you were only 14, just 14 but already experiencing the world of war, and of danger.

Now you were 17. What a big number..

14 and 17, they sound so different it looks like such a big gap, but they’re not. Just three years ago being 14 you would still be counted as a baby not a teenager.

But now since you are to say you are 17, people see you as an adult, someone who is of age and needs adult duties. Oh how you wished to 14 or younger again.

To relish in the way people still treated you like a child and called you baby.

A loud snore is heard to your left, you are suddenly out of this type of trance. And realize you sat up, ignoring that, you turn your head to look to your left.

Just to see nobody but the All Mighty Lo’ak, spread eagle with his mouth wide open. Light gurgles, groans and snores are all that is heard from his open mouth.

You smile warmly at your youngest brothers antics, remembering what it was like to sleep so long at night.

Now your eyes burn, irritated, red and itchy all day long from your lack of sleep. Moving your eyes to look around caused your sockets to ache.

Thin, bright red veins crawl around your sclera. You thought at one point your thick lashes covered them up fine when all of this started happening.

But your inflamed eyes stood out like sore thumbs. You gained deep, dark circles right below your eyes that didn’t help you with your lashes “cover up”.

The people around you, your family, all noticed. Of course they did, how could they not? They see you everyday, they see your face everyday. So it was only a matter of time wasn’t it?

When all of, this, first started with you, everyone was worried. Your silence.. Was almost sickening. They weren’t used to it, you being so quiet, when most of the time they would all be able to hear your voice in the background.

Whether you were talking to someone in the hut, or yourself, which they found so normal. But when you stopped talking to them and yourself..

All they could feel was stress settle into their bones, the stress caused anxiety filled thoughts to meddle into their heads about you.

The constant ‘are you okay’s?’, being asked so much more frequently than before started to annoy you.

You loved your family. You loved them so, so much. But when they would ask you that same question over and over and over again it made you feel… nervous?

It always felt like as if you couldn’t speak. Your tongue feels 10 tons of lead as you open your mouth to speak. Your throat feels as if there was needles poking in your esophagus anytime you took a breathe to start speaking.

Your body felt like it was eating away at its self from the inside to out. It felt like a void, a black hole was setting in your body and was slowly starting to expand before it would eventually, swallow you whole.

There was another shuffle from the bed rolls placed in the hut. It sounded closer and much more, eager?

Y/n’s head turned to her right quickly, seeing her fathers silhouette start to sit up. Her eyes widened as she quickly laid herself down, closing her burning eyes and slowing her breathing.

She’s gotten away with this before, she’s the best pretend sleeper there is. She heard her father groan as he stretched and yawned, and that’s when it hit her.

The sounds of the birds and different animals chirping out sounded in the distance. Y/n’s eyes widened once more.

‘Just how long had she been awake?’

She closed her eyes, hoping for some type of miracle of sleep to take her into slumber. But of course, it never happened.

She heard the process of her father getting up, then, he gently shook her mother awake. Both of them exchanging a morning kiss that was very audible.

‘Gross.’

That’s the last thing she wanted to hear. We’ll sort of, it could have been worse.

But, in a reformed order, she waited for the dawn chorus to get more of a melody before she “woke up”, which was when she always woke up in the morning.

As the creatures sang and chirped louder, Y/n shuffled on her sleeping mat, rising slowly while rubbing her eyes and yawning. Jake and Neytiri smiled towards her.

“Good morning babygirl.” Jake said as he rose out of his mat stiffly, waddling towards Y/n to give her a kiss on her forehead.

“G’morning dad.” Y/n was able to force a raspy voice to submerge herself more into the act that she “just woke up”. “Good morning ma’ite” Neytiri’s sultry voice spoke towards Y/n.

Y/n looked towards her mother, “Good morning mama.” Y/n said with a small smile. Her parents soft words made her feel like a little kid again, remembering when they lived high in the trees deep into the forest of Pandora. Small tears brewed in the corner of her eyes before she blinked them away.

“Today, is not a busy day. You and everyone else, including me and your father don’t have much to do. Call it and ‘off day’ if you will.” Y/n’s ears perked up. Off day? No plans or revisions? No raiding or hunting?

“Oh… We’ll that’s nice. I might go into the forest later. Forage some herbs for grandmother, and grab fruit for us?” Y/n looked towards her parents, a questioning look on her face as she non-verbally asked for permission.

“That’ll be fine ma’ite. Very much appreciated from us and your grandmother.” Neytiri spoke, Jake was still tired, his eyes narrowed in exhaustion as he sat on their mat slouched. The small rolls on his stomach bunching as his pudge was poked out.

Y/n always thought her fathers stomach looked funny but cute, besides a baby’s stomach of course. Although his and a baby’s could be close in comparison.

As the morning stretched on, all of her siblings began to awake as the sun went higher in the sky. Neytiri was now making breakfast, some fruits that were freshly picked, by you.

You all sat at the table, legs crossed as you ate the slices of fruit off the large banana leaves, which were also picked by you.

You were quite the forager, and warrior which always shocked people. They always wonder how you balance training non-stop, but forage herbs and pick fruits.

Breakfast was as it usually is. Your siblings somehow managing to bicker as they stuffed their faces of the sweet fruit.

“Lo’ak! Can you just shut up!” Kiri yelled as she finished swallowing a piece of her fruit.

“You want me to shut up!? How about you!? You’re so annoying!” Lo’ak’s words were muffled as he tried to keep the piece of fruit in his mouth.

“Hey! Both of you. Knock it off.” Your father’s authoritative voice quickly cut off any type of rebuttal Kiri planned on making.

“And Lo’ak, you know you talk with no food in your mouth. Especially at a table!” Tuk spoke to Lo’ak with a giggle in her voice.

“Yeah I know…” Lo’ak mumbled.

While all that happened you thought of what you were going to do today. Since it was an “off day” you thought it might be a good time to finally talk to the person you’ve been begging to see.

Eywa, The All Great Mother.

She would help you. You knew this. She helps everyone, you’ve been meaning to talk to her for a while.

You chewed on your cheek nervously as you thought of when it would be a good time to leave, and what to say once you get to the Tree of Souls.

“Y/n?” A small voice faded into your ears as you were snapped out of your trance. “Hm?” You responded quickly as you looked down to your left.

Tuk was looking up at you, a hopeful look in her eyes as she stared at you.

“What do you plan on doing today? Can you hang out with us? Please!” She wrapped her arms around your forearm as she clung to you. You smiled down at her as you put a hand on her head.

“I’ll hang out with you guys, I just have something to do before I can.” You responded calmly as you stroked Tuk’s head.

“Do you have toooo?…” Tuk whined out as she pushed her face against your arm. “I would call it important. Maybe it has something to do with you… I don’t know though.” You shrugged as you made a questioning tone.

Tuk’s head shot up to look into your face. “Something for me? Do it! You can go do it!” She shook your arm as she grew excited.

One thing about Tuk, she loved gifts. Or any type of surprise that she could keep. So you made sure to remember to bring something back for Tuk.

“Well… I should be heading out now then, no?” You looked towards your parents for permission. When they nodded, you did too before rising to your feet, your body bent sideways as Tuk still had herself wrapped against your arm.

“Hurry back okay? Please! I want to play with you!” With a begrudging look on her face, Tuk slowly let go of your arm.

“I won’t be gone for long Tuk, I promise!” You raised your hands in surrender as you started to walk out the hut.

“Bye guys, behave for mom and dad while I’m gone!” You turned back as you waved. Hearing small and quick “byes” and “we will” before you sent yourself off into the forest.

Once you were on the grounds of the forest, you walked through the thick trees that outlined the clearing to the Tree of Souls.

Your body became fidgety as you got closer. Swallowing thickly as a lump started to form in your throat.

The tall stature of the tree intimidated you. The light pink tendrils swaying with the small breeze that passed by sent almost a comforting blanket of air as you became less nervous growing closer to the tree.

As you approached the trunk of the tree, kneeling down you grabbed your queue from the back of your head before you reached out gently grabbing a small bundle of the tree’s tendrils.

You took a deep breathe before you connected yourself to the tree, making tsaheylu.

A bright light enveloped your vision as you closed your eyes, a warmth washed over your body as you ‘seen’ the silhouette of what seemed to be a young Na’vi woman.

“Y/n, my dear child.. Why do you come to me?” The light yellow silhouette was now closer in front of you. Resting what felt like a warm motherly hand on your cheek.

“Great Mother… I-I am here to ask you a few things… I do not question your will, or the fate you decide. But I am wondering, why do I feel like this? Why does my body hurt all the time? Why can’t I just function normally with my family?”

Tears started to spill down your cheeks as you shot the questions out desperately like wildfire. You just wanted an answer. You feel as if you are not worth anything anymore.

“Oh Y/n.. Let it out, child. Cry and ask all the questions you want.” The woman that was speaking to you had to be Eywa. She was so warm as she held you close to her, her voice smooth with a soft tone.

“Great Mother help me please! I feel so gone, I have thought of hurting my own self just to know that I am real.. I don’t want to feel like this anymore… Please help me, I’ll do anything..” Your voice was soft as you begged quietly. Leaning into the hand on your face and warm body that stood in front of you.

“Do not fret child.. You will be saved, you are loved. Do not ever forget that. Everyone, is here for you.” Her soft hands caressed both of your cheeks as she leaned forward.

You were only able to get a glance of the features on her illuminated face. And oh, was she beautiful. It was the most divine thing you’ve ever seen.

A small smile broke out onto your face at her soft affirmations, nodding slightly in appreciation of her kind words.

“Thank you Great Mother.” You could see the white of her teeth as a smile appeared on her face.

She pulled you in closely to give you a hug. And it was the best one ever yet. The feeling of security, and happiness welded into your heart and spread through your body.

The feeling was nostalgic as it was the same feeling you always had when you were a young girl. Living in the trees of the forest with your parents and younger siblings.

“You’re welcome, my child…”

After that, the bright light appeared again before quickly fading out into black before you opened your eyes.

Your face was wet with tears and you panted at the greatest spiritual experience you’ve ever felt.

“Oh Great Mother…” You said once more before disconnecting your queue from the tree. Your body felt eccentric, a calm but brewing excitement was in your stomach.

You stood and began to turn away from the tree, walking back into the ones that outlined the clearing.

As you continued to walk back, you remembered. Something for Tuk, the herbs for grandmother, and fruit you wanted to pick.

You shut your eyes as you remembered you still had quite the stuff to do. Deciding to just try and get over it quickly, you did them in order.

In the end, you ended up with eight flower crowns, herbs you remember your grandmother needed to restock on, and fruits that were ripe enough for you and your family.

Now not just Tuk was getting a flower crown, but everybody was.

Once you were back to High Camp, your hands and arms full as you walked to your grandmother’s tent.

Once you were at the entrance to the tent, you spoke quietly, “grandmother? Are you in here?” Peeking in slightly, you saw your grandmother in the corner of the tent, rummaging through the drawers she left her herbs in.

She turned to look at you, a smile growing on her face. “Yes, yes I am here paskalin, come.” She waved her hand in a motion that told you to enter the tent. And you did.

“I was in the forest, and I decided I would grab some herbs I remembered you needing. Oh, and I made you this too.” You explained before showing her the flower crown you made for her.

“Oh yawntutsyìp, it’s beautiful, and thank you so much for the herbs. Come here.” She stood as she went forward and embraced you. You were completely joyed with the second hug you received today.

“It’s alright grandma. No need to thank me, it’s what I have to do, and what I should do.” She smiled as she kissed the top of your head.

“We all don’t deserve you, you are the sweetest girl I’ve met.” Your grandmother pulled your face back ash she decided to pepper it with kisses, like when you were a baby.

“Grandmother! Don’t do that! I’m not a baby no more and that tickles now!” You held onto her forearms as you tried to lower our her grasp, but she laughed and left a few more before she let you go.

“Okay, okay. But I do not promise that I won’t do it again.” She pointed at you with a smile. You gave her one back before you gathered all your other belongs and left. Now heading to your hut.

As you were at the entrance, you heard light conversations, your ears twitching forward as you heard the familiar six voices.

When you walked in, it felt as if all eyes snapped to you, a small silence adorning the hut before you spoke quietly, shuffling farther into your home.

“Hi guys..” It wasn’t long before Tuk shot up from the ground, her tail wagging as she ran to you.

“Y/n! You’re back! Did you do what you needed to do?” There was an eager look in her eyes as she looked at you, being expectant that you may have gotten something for her.

“I did. And here’s this.” You spoke with a smile as you placed the flower crown on her head. She jumped up and down in excitement before taking it off to look at all the flowers and their pretty colors before putting it back on her head.

“Thank you Y/n, thank you! I love it so much!” Tuk smushed her face against your stomach and wrapped her arms around your legs. Smiling more now, you rubbed her head and her back in soothing way before she let go of your legs.

Once she let you go you walked over to all your othe family members who were still gathered calmly at the table.

“And this is for you guys.” You felt shy as you passed around the flower crowns to your family at the table, a small purple blush settling on your cheeks as your skin felt warm.

“This is so pretty Y/n, thank you!” Kiri spoke as she placed hers on her head.

Lo’ak spoke next, “thank you sis, it’s really pretty.” When you looked over at him he already had it on his head, a bigger smile broke out onto your face.

“It is lovely ma’ite, thank you.” Your mother was next, then your father. “It’s beautiful babygirl, thank you.”

“Thank you a lot big sis, I really like it.” Neteyam was last but not least, you backed up as you looked at your family, happy as they all collectively wore what you made them.

“You’re Welcome guys.. You don’t have to thank me, it’s the least I could do.” You shuffled with the last flower crown in your hands.

“Least? You’re always doing the best for us, I mean I’m pretty sure nobody has a better older sister than us. Like come on, your the coolest.” Lo’ak raised his hands as he complimented you. Your family around all nodding and talking in agreement.

“Y/n, did you make one for yourself too?” Tuk asked as she looked at you.

“Well I made an extra one just in case someone lost theirs but I wasn’t planning one for me, no.” You answered question honestly, you never wear the trinkets you make unless someone forces you to because you never want to.

“Y/n. Put that flower crown on now.” Tuk put her hand on her hip as she gave you her sassiest tone. Your eyes widened at her sudden change in behavior before laughing and putting the crown on your head.

“You look beautiful syulang, the colors look perfect on you.” Your dad’s sudden compliment threw you off a bit, but not to much, he’s always saying something nice.

“Thank you dad.” You said with a light smile.

Tuk perked up as she remembered you were all supposed to go out into the forest, and she was going to make you go regardless of what you say.

“Okay, so can we all go now to the forest? Y/n your going,” she wasn’t asking you either, more so demanding that you go with all your siblings.

“Fine, fine! I was planning on going anyway Tuk, relax!” And that’s exactly what she did, sort of.

“Okay then come on come on let’s go!” You and the rest of your siblings all shuffled up to follow along after Tuk, going to make your way to the forest below.

Once all of you were on the forest floor, conversations erupted between everybody. You were brought into most if not all the small debates and bickers your siblings would have.

Tuk, not entertaining the incessant topics, hopped around as she interacted with all the different plants in the forest, giggling non-stop at all the plants reactions, or movements to her touch and presence.

You kept your eye on Tuk, just to make sure she wouldn’t drift off or touch the wrong thing. She was still so young anything could happen in the blink of an eye.

Which was bound to happen as you seen Tuk approach a txumtsä’wll, a poison-squirting plant. A very dangerous plant, labeled as one of the most dangerous if you don’t pay attention to how close you are to it.

“Tuk! Don’t touch that!” The panic in your body set and rose as Tuk’s hands and face were only mere inches away from the plant, she looked over at you in confusion as you quickly made your way towards her, pulling her quickly by her wrist away from it.

You ran quickly, a bit farther from where your siblings stood, a txumtsä’wll is such a huge plant, you don’t know how you didn’t notice it before.

Just then as your sibling jogged closer to you, a bit scared at your reaction towards the plant, the poison shot out. Hitting a tree that was right across from it. The poison deteriorated the tree, burning through the bark and sinking deeper into it.

Tuk stood in absolute terror as she saw what happened to the tree. Pandora is a dangerous place, though it is home to the beautifulest of plants and people, it has its parts and aspects that are the exact opposite. Killer plants and na’vi exiles that traverse the planet puts dread in your heart, making it feel more heavy.

You looked down at Tuk, turning her away from the mutilated tree, rubbing her hands subconsciously as if you were scrubbing them.

“Tuk, Tuk you didn’t touch it did you? You didn’t touch it right?” Your voice was strained as you hope to hear her say no.

“No… No i didn’t touch it…” Her voice was quiet, but you kneeled answer hugged her as a way to comfort her nerves as well as yours. You let out a breathe you didn’t know you were holding as soon as she wrapped her arms back around you too.

You picked Tuk up, holding her head against the crook of your neck and continuing to walk. The rest of your siblings decided to ignore what happened and continue to chitter as you walked.

That was before Lo’ak decided to look into the sky and notice how eclipse was more than closely about to settle in.

“Shit-“

“Language.”

“Eclipse!”

You all paused in your walking all throwing your heads back to look up and see how eclipse was gonna happen.

“Oh shit, shit shit shit! Come on!” You rambled as you turned back the other way and technically started running back home.

“Just how long have we been out here?” Kiri asked as you all still ran, Tuk still in your arms. “I thought we were hitting an hour soon not two or three!” You said as you panted, it would be better to call your ikran now and just fly home.

“We should call for our ikran, we’ll get home quicker and have more breathing space from curfew.” You said as you stopped, panting as you turned towards your siblings.

They nodded and immediately started calling for their ikran, and you did the same. Soon, you heard the familiar screeches of the precious beasts. Once they were on the ground you all settled onto your respective ikran, Tuk sitting in front of you, before you all set off, flying home.

You were all able to successfully reach home, just in time for curfew.

The five of you rushed into your hut, chests heaving as some of you bent down, slumped as you took in the much needed air.

Your parents’ attention turned towards all of you immediately, ears and eyes observing.

“What happened? Are you all okay?” Your father was the first to speak. Standing and walking over to you all, he grasped your shoulders first, his eyes held heavy with worry.

“Y/n.. what happened?” You panted a bit more before stuttering out your answer,

“W-we just wanted to make it h-home on time *huff* within curfew.” Your father visibly relaxed, a small smile coming on his face as he let out a light chuckle, your mother fanned the food with a smile on her face also.

“We’ll you all made it back just on time, come, sit. It is time to eat.” Lo’ak almost threw himself on the table, settling in his spot around the table.

“Jesus Lo’ak how greedy can you be? You almost destroyed the whole table!” Kiri exclaimed, annoyed by her brothers gluttonous actions.

“Shut up Kiri! Gosh! Can’t do anything without you bellyaching like a baby!” Lo’ak quickly responded back with his own comments.

“Well maybe I wouldn’t be bellyaching like a baby if you didn’t act like one either! You act like you’re five! Grow the he-!” “Kiri..” You gently placed your hand against her shoulder, smiling playfully.

“Calm down, let’s not fight and just enjoy dinner okay? You’re fine.” You turned your head towards Lo’ak, who was sitting with his arms crossed against his chest as he held a childish pout on his face.

“Lo’ak, you’re fine too, we know you’re hungry, eat.”

“He’s always hungry-“

“Kiri!” You squeezed her shoulder a bit tighter before you ended up ushering all your siblings to just sit and eat.

Dinner passed by slowly, which you were grateful for. Today, it felt like you had a new chance at life once more. You talked all throughout dinner, conversing with your parents and siblings about your day out. You all laughed as you brought up all the weird looking plants and funny acting animals you seen while adventuring.

Once dinner was finished, your body felt warm and full with the food that was held within your stomach, a hazy feeling in your head that felt to similarly to the feeling of nostalgia.

A small smile was etched onto your face as you helped clean up the table, though against your mother’s own protests.

Now it was time for all of you to go to sleep, you would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. Only feeling as if you would be granted the blessing of sleep if you hoped and prayed.

You were now all settled into your sleeping mats, shuffling to get comfortable and saying goodnight, everyone began to close their eyes as the activities of the day finally made their bodies feel spent.

You were on your side, your front facing towards where your parents slept, you smiled as you seen the way your mother’s back was pressed against your father’s chest, his arm draped across her as they laid close together.

That was the only thing you looked forward to once you became older. Finding yourself the true love you’ve always wanted, a relationship healthy and full of love. Like your parents.

You adjusted your body to where you were now on your back, staring up to the ceiling of the hut, a warm blush enveloping your face as you thought of yourself having kids.

You calmed your mind so you wouldn’t get excited and chase your sleep away, your eyelids felt heavy, a good heavy as you felt the long-awaited feeling of sleep finally catch up to you.

Your eyes shut as you felt yourself fall into the world of your own slumber, alas, having the best dream of your life.

Author’s Note - Hi again! If you made it this far all i want to say is thank you for even reading! I don’t like this all that much but i feel so proud of myself for even finishing it and not just deleting it! But once again if you even read all of this, thank you so much 🤍!

#jake sully #neytiri sully #y/n sully #neteyam sully #lo’ak sully #kiri sully #tuk sully #avatar 2 #sully family #sully family x reader #sully family x sister!reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #neytiri sully x daughter!reader #avatar: way of water

[courtingchaos]

Violence Ad Nauseam

Gator Tillman x Fem Reader

Series Master List

A/N: Would you all like some actual story to go along with the smut chapters? Finally getting into the meat of this after months of being stuck on it. This is going to feel a little out of order with the next two chapters, mainly because those were written first but this bridged a gap I had in my conflict so have at it. This is the tinder to start the bonfire (and also to show off Roy, the world’s biggest bastard). Hope you enjoy, PLEASE read the warnings everyone!

Warnings: Violence, assault (Roy hits reader), depictions of injury, descriptions of injury, talk of violence.

18+ NSFW No Minors

A quiet afternoon on account of the brothers going off for lunch leaving just you in your corner and your father in the house. You saw him through the kitchen window when you stepped out to ask Ty something. He hovers just around the sink so you know he’s cooking, rinsing off the cranberries or breaking down some bird. Wednesday nights mean Family Meetings and when you’re done out here in the garage with this new dash wiring you’ll go in and quietly help him make your mother’s linzer tart.

Between the solder you pinch to the newly stripped wires and the radio droning at the side of your head, it takes you longer than it should to realize the rest of the noise has quieted. Suddenly it isn’t just four brothers gone but the whole homestead seems to have taken off, or at least run away from the heavy footfalls that almost echo in your workspace.

“What are you working on?” Roy’s deep voice is clear without the ring of metal work in the background.

You don’t look up from your work, especially not for him. “Custom dash.”

“Is that for you?”

“You know it isn’t.”

His laugh is anything but jovial, a thin ice pick that hits your spine wrong. You finish with your wires, tucking them back into their casing, before you turn to look at him smiling at you. It’s flat and doesn’t reach his eyes, a startling match to someone else you know. “What do you need?”

“Just came to talk.”

“Father’s in the house. You can talk to him.”

“I already did.” His footsteps seem measured in the last few feet he closes between you two. Those green eyes seem to darken the longer they look down at you, his distaste for you never more apparent. You hazard a look past him towards the open, empty bays and confirm you’ve been left for the wolves.

“There’s not much I can help you with.”

“Oh I beg to differ.” Suddenly he’s reaching for a folding chair leaned up against the wall. Opening it and motioning for you to sit with a wide open palm. “Have a seat sweetheart.”

Your heart pounds in your chest hard enough to crack ribs. “I’d rather stand.”

“I’d rather you sit.” Those eyes turn hard with a glint in the florescent work lights above. “Please.” Again he gestures at the open seat and you stall just a little too long. He grabs your bicep and yanks you forward to stand in front of the chair. “Sit. Down.”

There’s no one out here now. Your phone sits on your workbench, plugged in and on silent. The radio still sings out low and the garage remains quiet like it was the dead of night. So you sit and you swallow the vitriol that rises in your throat because you know when you’re outnumbered.

Roy nods his head when you do as asked and leans back onto the thick wooden worktop, arms crossed too casually across his chest. “You’ve been doing a little research I hear.”

“I do a lot of research, you’ll have to be specific.” You stare up at him with your best poker face, trying hard to leave the disgust out of your features.

“Don’t play fucking stupid.”

“I’m not.” You blink too much as your nerves start to flood in with his sharp tone. “I’m the brains around here, remember?” Licked lips end up bitten lips and you can see him watching all of your nervous energy bleed out into the open. “If Father didn’t know then-“

“I found that P.I. you hired. The one out of Biloxi.” He watches you still suddenly. “Hm. Clearer picture now?”

You nod because you don’t trust your voice to not betray you. Roy is a pain in your ass but he’s a dangerous one, something better left alone until it decides to leave you be. You’ve poked him before with your words and your blatant disregard for his need of Gator but now he has you cornered in silence.

“He sang quite the tune when it came down to brass tacks. Showed me the file on Gator first and then little ol’ me.” He clears his throat. “What are you looking for, bookworm?”

You open your mouth but he railroads you, talks right over your explanation because he didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to know about you looking into Gator and finding the hidden rot, the long trail of familial deceit that spanned from the gulf to the frozen plains Roy inhabited.

“You think you know it all don’t you? Think you can just do what you want because you think you’re smarter than everyone around you?” He stands to his full height, hands dropping to hang at his sides. “You’re sticking your nose in the wrong business.”

“He deserves to know.”

“Deserves to know what? That his father is running the same game down at home?” He scoffs at you. “You think he doesn’t know what kind of family he comes from?”

“He doesn’t know about you.”

“And what about me?”

You let your schooled features fall when you realize Roy thinks this is all about his money. “Does your brother know?” You feel bold when you lean into your question. “You two seem awfully close. Is that what you’re afraid of? Him finding out or you loosing money?”

There’s a dawning look on his face when he finally gets it.

“Does your brother know he raised your son or are you only keeping that secret from Gator?”

The air is heavy with every deep breath you and Roy take. He stares down at you staring defiantly up at him and the hollow chuckle from deep in his throat makes your skin crawl.

“You think he’s gonna believe you?” Roy leans down slow to get level with you, crouches in front of you with a creaking knee and violent look in his eye. Only a foot away and you hate how much you can see of Gator here; in the anger and the slope of his nose.

“I don’t lie to him.”

One thing about Roy is that he isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. It’s a common misconception because he has a posse behind him willing to do his bidding but in the right circumstances, ones like these with no prying eyes or ears, he sticks his hands right into the muck.

He moves faster than you think someone of his age should, especially with that loud knee, but knuckles wrap into the front of your jacket before you know what’s happening. He’s stronger and taller than you and he hauls you up fast, the chair collateral that gets kicked to the wayside by his boot. Your heels drag for just a moment before your back hits the side of the car you’ve been working on hard, wind knocked out of you while Roy gets in your face.

“I don’t care what kind of shit you’ve been pullin’ with him but I don’t play fucking games.” He shifts you up the door so you’re on tiptoes and supported by just his massive fists. “You’re fucking with things you have no idea about.”

“Then why don’t you enlighten me?” It’s strained out of you with your collar twisted up. Even pinned up against a car you still feel the need to goad him, especially when he’s this worked up. “Is it just about money with you or are you afraid of being responsible for him too?”

Roy pulls away for a moment, faltering enough to let you slip down almost onto flat soles. Your laugh is shallow too when you watch Roy’s face contort into a scowl.

“I’m warning you.” His voice doesn’t waver in anger. It’s flat like the look in his eyes.

“And I’m telling you-“

You hear the crack before you fully register what’s happened. The clap of an open palm that sets your face on fire and snaps your head sideways, brain rattling around in your skull. It takes a moment before you feel the sharp pain in your jaw and realize you can’t clench your teeth. It hangs unnaturally while you slide to the floor heavily, legs tangled under you while you try to make sense of what’s happened.

“You ain’t telling me shit.” He spits down at you, confused on the floor. “Look at me.” He demands but your vision swims and the pain surges into nausea. You couldn’t turn your head even if you wanted to but all your whimpering sends Roy into a further rage. He bends down and grabs your jaw roughly, twisting you sideways to look at him all while you scream in the back of your throat. His fingers dig into the hinge of your jaw and you howl louder with the pain he inflicts.

“I have no reservations with you.” He holds your face tighter and you cry, hot tears that spill over and down your flaming cheek. “I don’t care about whatever pedestal that boy puts you on, you start nosing around in my business?” He shakes your head and the edges of your vision darken momentarily. “I’m gonna put a fucking end to it.” He drops you suddenly and you barely catch yourself from hitting cement. His legs are all you can make out of him while you try to cradle your jaw and you watch him move away from you to your bench. “You’re gonna do whatever you want because you’re too smart for your own good, right?” He shifts things around that you can’t see, sends them clattering before you notice his boots in your peripheral again. “Right?!” He yells down at you and makes you jump before you try to shake your head no. “Well don’t lie to me, darlin’.”

“I’m not.” Only it comes out slurred and half formed from your numb lips. Roy clicks his tongue at you before he crouches next to you again only this time you flinch and that makes him smile.

“Look,” he squints at you holding your face together and trying to look him in the eye with all the disgust you can muster, “go ahead and call one of your brothers.” He tosses your phone on your lap. “Tell them what happened.”

You shake your head again.

“No?” It could almost be concern that he flashes you but you know better. “Gonna keep this to yourself?”

You nod almost against your own will.

“Like your little findings too?” His voice is soft like he’s trying to calm one of his horses. It has the opposite effect on you though, that roiling nausea replaced by rage in your gut. You nod again though, tears still falling freely down your face.

“Good girl.”

If you could spit at him you would. He stands gingerly to avoid his knee popping and you watch him walk away a few feet before he turns back to you. “Now I’m gonna head back up to the house, let your father know I’m done out here.” He checks his phone before giving you one last look, gesturing at his own jaw. “Should get that checked out.”

#Gator Tillman #Gator Tillman Fic #Gator Tillman x Reader #Gator Tillman Angst #My Work #My Fic

[bri-sonat]

Captain and the Mate - Part One

Pairing: Pirate!Captain!Brienne of Tarth x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol & blood, brief death mention, sapphic yearning, the usual warnings when writing in the GoT universe.

Synopsis: When the infamous Captain Bri makes port to recruit members to her crew, you don't waste the opportunity. To your relief and pleasure, she accepts you, and the time spent aboard her ship and among her crew leads to many things. One of them being a relationship developing between you and the Captain herself.

A/N: Happy Pride Month!! This has been sitting uncompleted in my word since like, February? March? I am not sure. Either way, a very long time. The fact that I finished this during Pride Month was only coincidental, though I am glad it ended like this because Pirate Captain Brienne is the hottest thing I have ever seen in a long time and I hope you all think the same! The sea shanty referenced is this one, but I have modified it a little bit, of course. Either way, it's good. Listen to it if you wish. :) English is not my first language and so on. Enjoy!

Thank you to bae, wifey, co-brainrotter, sharer of brain cells, and co-writer, @daydream-cement for unknowingly giving me this idea by sending a picture to the GC all those months ago.

The summer evening sun set over Oldtown as you followed the Honeywine down to the nearby inn and tavern. The Hightower's fading shadow informs you of the late hours - confirming that you were right on time for your destination and its event. 

Word had spread fast when she had arrived. Whispers enthusiastically gossiped about why she was here, and what her business was. Eventually, the information reached your spiked ears: she was recruiting members for her crew.  

This was something you had dreamt of ever since you heard about her: sailing with her. Someone who struck fear in people with the same name she was praised with, her actions earning her a nickname traders rued to hear. Her sails and flag striking terror and fright across all nine seas whenever spotted, and rightfully so. 

She had quite a reputation. The pirate Captain who only raided, robbed, pillaged, boarded, and stole from the large, and wealthy trading companies. No one knew why she does what she does, why she only attacks the ships she does, only she knew. It was one of the largest mysteries surrounding her, she was an enigma, and she intrigued, and fascinated you at the same time. 

The glowing braze of the Hightower danced in the Honeywine along with the nearby torches of the various stone houses that stood along the river. Every step you took brought you closer to the tavern, and effectively closer to her, and it was only when the tall and wooden Quill and Tankard Inn came into vision that you realized just how stupid this was. 

What did you think was going to happen? That you’d just be able to waltz straight in, and that she’d accept you to her crew? No, that was wishful thinking. She would have many men on their knees in front of her, begging to sail with her, if they knew what was good for them. To even have an audience with someone with her renown was a privilege, and you were just satisfied with being in her presence. 

Yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that she might be looking for more than just work power. You had heard whispers that she had lost her Quartermaster and that she was in need of a new one, but this was just hearsay, and gossip, and you decided not to trust any of the two. 

Opening the door to the wooden tavern, you quickly laid notice of the fact that it was quieter than you were used to, surely had to do with the looming presence in the room.  

In the back of it - in front of the hearth and under the slanted roof - an intimidating, short-haired blonde woman sat by a table. A goblet in one hand, the other fiddling with a dagger. Her booted feet were slung up on the wooden surface as she gently rocked on her chair.  

She looked bored, apathetic. The dimly light tavern only cast a shadow over her face, meaning you couldn’t quite see what she looked like from where you stood. 

The tavern was empty, well, emptier than you had expected and you wondered if she had turned any men away because they failed to live up to her standards, or if you were the first one to arrive. Judging from the fuming men who sat in a corner you could see as you approached the bar, you guessed the former. 

“Good evening. Do you want your usual?” The barkeep approached you as you stopped at the bar, her hands wiping themselves on the apron around her waist before they came up to help her lean against the bar top. You and she had formed an interesting friendship after your regular visits, and you had spent many evenings ranting to her about your long-time wish to sail with Captain Bri. 

Unbeknownst to you, the uninterested blonde’s eyes had found you the second your back was turned. She raised her goblet to her lips, taking a sip of the strong cider the tavern was known for. The movement in her other hand never stilled, the dagger constantly moving in her scarred hand. 

The reason for her eyes finding you was unknown to her, maybe it was because you had been the only non-man to come into the tavern that evening, the bartender excluded. Or maybe it was because she found you, a complete stranger to her, intriguing and magnetic, even if it was subconsciously.  

Either way, her gaze was fixed on your back for a few seconds as you interacted with the barkeep, only redirecting her attention somewhere else once one of the men from her crew exclaimed how ‘slim the pickings’ were from beside her. 

“No. I am here to meet the captain. However, now that I am here, it all seems like a most terrible idea.” You gave your answer to the barkeep, voicing your concerns. You were sure the nervosity was easy to hear in your voice when you spoke. The excitement of meeting Captain Bri had completely overshadowed the reality of the situation, but you couldn’t just turn around and leave. You had to at least try. 

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” the barkeep chuckled slightly. “She has yet to accept a single bloke. I’d say your chances are high.” 

“Well... I am here. I might as well go try.” You released a shaky sigh. Realizing you had to at least act somewhat confidently so that Bri would consider recruiting you, you pushed down your anxiousness to the best of your abilities. “She’s the woman at the table. Right?” 

“Mhmm,” the bartender hummed in confirmation. “Go wow her.” She gave you a thumbs up and a smile before she departed to help a customer who was waiting further down the bar. You turned around and approached the intimidating presence by the table with determined steps. 

When you stopped in front of the table, you could, by the help of the glow of the fire behind her, finally see her face. Her face. Many things were told about Bri the Righteous Beast, but none of the stories mentioned her immense beauty.  

She was incredibly handsome, her disheveled blonde hair framing her intense blue eyes as they raked you up and down. And her lips. Good Gods, her lips. The small, accented scar on her upper lip scrunched as she smirked, and you wondered how she had been bestowed such a stunning ‘flaw.’ 

She was a vision, there was no other way to put it and you could spend so many hours just staring at her. There would not be enough time to take in her entirety, but your life would have to suffice. 

Eventually, your gaze wandered to her hands. Her hands. They looked so strong, and her fingers were so long. Small, long, and deep, scars were visible on most of her fingers, her palms, and the backs of her hands, surely from learning to master dagger fidgeting and sword fighting. 

The hand that had previously been playing with a dagger had stopped, and the noise of sharp metal being stabbed into wood ripped you out of your observation. 

“Well. Look here. The Lady here wants to join our crew.” If Bri’s face was attractive, her voice only matched it. It was velvety smooth, so deep and so extremely intruding. Her accent only made it even more delicious, and you were sure you would never get used to it. Even if the captain’s voice and words sounded cocky, there was a mighty insecurity swimming in her eyes and her soul that did not match her outwardly persona. “I’m no knight, but I’m sure pretty ladies such as yourself should be in their castle... not down here with us peasants.” 

The smirk plastered on her face was infuriating, but you couldn’t deny that it was thought-provoking and so, so attractive. Her words didn’t have the effect on you that she might’ve liked them to have, not even the comment on your appearance, as the constant eye contact only reminded you of the self-consciousness inside of her. At the same time as you wanted to tuck your tail and run, you wanted to stand your ground. Show your grit. So, you did. “I’m no Lady. But I’m sure you knew that. You were right about one thing, however. I want to join your crew, Captain. I want to sail under your command.” 

The blonde raised a brow and her smirk fell. She threw her feet off the table to place them on the ground so she could lean forward in her chair. She placed her goblet on the table next to the wood-impaling dagger, her eyes scanning your face imperceptibly. “...Very well. Have you sailed before?” 

“Yes, Captain.” The intense eye contact was burning you up from the inside and you wanted nothing more than to break it - if only just to breathe, but you knew you couldn’t do that if you wanted Bri to believe your words. Because of this, you remained strong. “I was Quartermaster on my last ship before the captain got drunk and sunk it during a supposed boast. I wasn’t present.” 

The captain cocked her head to the side as she watched you, trying to assess whether you were telling the truth. In the years of being a pirate captain, Bri had learnt quite fast how to tell if a person was lying. From what she could tell, you weren’t.  

She was silent for a long while before she finally spoke. “Well, as luck would have it, I need a new Quartermaster. My last one had to be... let go. But I say that we should get you started as a crew member first. Just to see how you work. And to build trust. And gain respect from the rest of the crew. We just met, after all.” Suddenly, the blonde woman stood up from her chair to reach out a hand to shake, and oh, was she tall. At least six feet, you guessed. There was seemingly nothing about this woman that was unattractive. 

Her intimidating height and appearance made it hard to resist staring at her open-mouthed but that would be considered rude, and frankly unprofessional, so you abstained. Even if it was tempting. Instead, you grabbed hold of her incredibly soft, outreached hand and shook it, your eyes never leaving hers, even when you had to change from gazing down at her to up at her.  

The smile she offered was much softer than her previous demeanor had been, and it caught you off-guard. It matched her more than her earlier expression. Matched the emotions that you could see deep in her eyes and soul. 

You could only hope to get to know her on a level that would allow you the pleasure of seeing and meeting the real her. Until then, you’d be the best crewmate she had ever seen. 

“Welcome to the crew.” And just like it never left, the captain’s overconfident behavior had made its return. She let go of your hand and motioned with her head towards the men sitting in a booth diagonally behind her before sitting down in her chair. “Go socialize with the rest of the crew. Get to know them well. You will be spending a lot of time together. Don’t be scared... they don’t bite. But I might.” That cursed smirk again. Why did it have to look so good on her luscious lips? It was plain torture, that much was clear. 

The only thing you could do was nod and go sit down with the crew, the rejected men in the other booth groaning in anger as you did. When it reached your ears, you couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit smug that you had been chosen and they hadn’t. Maybe this wasn’t the most terrible idea you had built it up to be when you entered the tavern. This had been the best idea it had originally posed itself to be in your mind. 

The men conversed around you, and even if you were sitting amongst them, you wouldn’t say that you were paying attention to anything they were saying. You were more focused on the woman who sat mere meters away from you with her back toward you. With the new point of view, you could observe her without her knowing it.  

Her booted feet had found their way up onto the table again and the dagger was back in her hands. Her trousers were dark, in this light you couldn’t be sure but either a dark grey or dark blue. The shirt she wore was loose on her upper body, it was off-white due to years of wear and slightly unbuttoned at the top which you had registered when you gazed down at her. 

There was a piece of cloth tied around her waist to ensure that her shirt didn’t blow up in the intense ocean winds. It was blue, close to the color of sapphire, but considering the sun was ruthless and had bleached it significantly, it was hard to tell.  

The sword that hung by her hip was broad but seemed light enough to offer one-handed handling. A broadsword if you had to take a guess.  

The rest of the evening was not as eventful as you had hoped. Bri turned away every single person that approached her except for one man.

When the tavern began closing for the night, the captain approached the table you and the rest of the crew were sitting at.

As the hours had gone on, you had grown more comfortable than you thought you would and had even had a cider or two. 

The rugged exteriors of the men did not match their insides and you found them to be quite charming and funny, which was rare for most men in Westeros, but especially for pirates. You could see why Bri had recruited them to her crew. 

Your chatter was cut short when Bri stopped by the table, her eyes roving over all the people who were sitting by it. When her eyes got to you, they lingered for a few seconds longer before they resumed their journey. You noticed this and you wondered if it was intentional or not. When she finished her scan, she spoke with that deep voice that made a shiver run down your spine. “The haul was scarcer than I had expected...” After she had uttered her first few words, she made direct eye contact with you and smirked, again. “But it will have to do. I’m sure our two new recruits will pull their weight.” It seemed like forever before she broke the contact, moving her gaze to the only other recruit. 

The sound of a voice coming from behind Bri made her turn around and the rest of you direct your attention to the person behind the captain. “If you don’t have a room rented, it’s time to leave. We close in five minutes.” The voice came from the barkeep who was holding back the largest smile when she saw you sitting amongst the men. She had her arms crossed over her chest as she addressed Bri and the rest of her crew. 

The captain nodded toward the bartender before turning to face you and the men once again. “It seems like we have reached the end of the line, gentlemen... and gentlewomen. Let us trot back to the ship and our respective beds, shall we?” Bri turned back to the bartender once again to offer words of gratitude. “Thank you for your hospitality.” 

The barkeep in turn responded with a curt nod and a ‘anytime.’ She then stood to the side so Bri and her crew could leave, only giving you the largest grin when you passed her by to leave the tavern. She whispered some encouraging words, well, they were short considering you had to keep moving to not fall behind. 

Bri led you and the crew out into the chill night air, and it was needed because the second you had stood up you had felt the tipsiness from the strong cider. The cool air would help in sobering you up, and if it didn’t, you were sure the salty ocean air would when you departed out to sea the next day. 

The walk along the docked boats in the Honeywine was longer than you had expected it to be, but when you finally reached the ship at the far end, you were more than ready to call it a day.  

The captain stopped right before the docked ship and let the rest of the crew board but stopped you and the other recruit. “This is The Bloody Sapphire. She will be your home for the rest of your life until you die or desert. You better not because if you do desert, I will hunt you down and kill you. If you treat her well and with respect, she will return the favor. Your beds are below deck, make yourselves comfortable. Tomorrow, we make way to Lannisport to resupply. They are not very friendly so put your best innocent face on for our visit. If you need me, my cabin is underneath the quarterdeck, but do not wake me unless there is a fire, we are sinking, someone is attacking us, or if someone is dying. Savvy?” 

You and the man looked at each other before you looked at Bri again and nodded. Both of you responded in unison, making the captain laugh slightly. “Savvy.” 

“Good. Then you may board.” The captain stepped aside to allow you both to step aboard, but before you could step a single foot on the wooden deck, Bri stopped you with a hand hovering in front of your sternum whilst she allowed the other recruit to step aboard and you watched him disappear below deck. 

You looked at her with a puzzled expression as your mind ran through the possible reasons for her stopping you. What could she possibly say that the other guy couldn’t hear? Then again, she had her reasons, and you shouldn’t question her. So, instead of voicing your confusion, you remained silent as you waited for her to speak. 

“I never caught your name. I suppose my mind was distracted and I completely forgot to ask.” Bri dropped the hand that had been hovering in front of your sternum and it came to rest on the pommel of her sword. Her voice was much softer than it had previously been when she had addressed you and your fellow recruit, and you wondered why that was.  

What you didn’t know was that against her better judgement, the captain’s brain had somehow convinced itself that you were a safe space. Even if she had only met you a handful of hours ago. She was drawn towards you. 

When you told her your name, she repeated it and the way it sounded rolling of her tongue with her accent was orgasmic. Never had it sounded so beautiful as it did when spoken by her. In return, she introduced herself to you, not that she needed to, you already knew her name. But you guessed that it was an act of honor. “Bri of Tarth.” 

“The Sapphire Isle? Is that where the name for your ship comes from... and your waist fabric?” Learning where she came from spiked your curiosity, and you asked more questions than you probably should have, considering she enjoyed her privacy. What you weren’t expecting, and that was a pleasant surprise, was that she answered. 

“Indeed. The ship's name is... a long story.” Bri looked down at the fabric around her waist and smiled before she looked back up at you again. “Well spotted. It is indeed sapphire blue... or it used to be, at least. It is from Tarth, I wanted to have something on me that would remind me of my old home. This piece of fabric has been with me since the beginning of my seafarer career. I’m surprised it hasn’t ripped yet.” 

You observed the fabric tied around her waist, excluding dirt stains from years of usage, the occasional blood spatter from seeing many battles, and the bleach from the sun, it looked strong. “I’d say it won’t rip for a while... looks like good material was used. Whatever it was intended for must’ve been important, the fabric looks expensive.” You looked up at Bri again and met her eyes. A flash of what looked like sorrow was briefly displayed in her eyes and you realized that your nice, late-night, alone chat was over. 

Her demeanor changed in the blink of an eye - as if she had mastered switching her expression and behavior. Her tone switched from gentle and tender to overweening, but her eyes never left the previous persona. “Sorry for holding you up. Off you go.” 

You wanted nothing more than to stay, to protest, to say that you wanted nothing more than to stay here all night and converse with her, but your feet worked against the will of your brain and before you knew it you had stepped aboard the ship and was climbing down the stairs that led below deck, leaving Bri standing behind.  

She boarded the ship after a few seconds and retired back to her quarters where she proceeded to think of you until she fell asleep. You fell asleep thinking about her, her intense blue eyes and her blonde hair stayed on your mind until you fell into slumber next to the rest of the crew.  

------ 

The weeks that passed after you were integrated into Captain Bri’s crew went by lightning fast. You and the recruit, who you had learnt was named Will, had worked hard and had earned both the respect of the rest of the crew and your captain.  

After your conversation on the dock, you had managed to get a private chat with the tall blonde five times. The interactions were cut short by various interruptions or her withdrawing from the discussion.

It was like there was some sort of conflict inside of her and she couldn’t decide which side to listen to. It was heartbreaking to watch. 

After a month of sailing with Bri and her crew, you began climbing the ranks. It started with a simple suggestion that ended up working well in everyone’s favor and before you knew it, you had been voted for and promoted to first mate. The new title didn’t do much in terms of giving you more one on one time with the captain, but it was a step towards it.  

After three months of being aboard The Bloody Sapphire, a chaotic boarding made it clear that the ship clearly needed a Quartermaster and the crew voted for you, considering your experience. Bri could not complain because it meant she would be able to see you more often. You were always standing by her side when she was standing by the wheel, after all. 

This new rank did earn you the privilege of having many alone talks with Bri as she steered the ship. Until she, of course, left for her chambers and left you to take over for her. The shortness of the interactions meant you didn’t learn that much about her that you didn’t already know, and it was starting to gnaw.  

That was until you were standing by her side by the wheel on a very sunny fall afternoon and the men started singing. The song was about some scorned woman killing a man who betrayed her and the woman by his side.

It took you until the middle of the shanty to realize that it matched some of the things you knew about Bri. You turned your head to look at her where she stood, her gaze fixed dead ahead. “Is this shanty about you?” 

The captain sighed and the noise of it disappeared into the chilly early Autumn air. She was silent for a few moments until she nodded. “It is. The story went down quite differently, however.” Bri’s gaze never wavered, her eyes never leaving the blue water. “I didn’t sneak aboard a ship for revenge. I snuck aboard a ship because I wanted to get away. The fact that the person who betrayed me was on the ship as well was only a bonus. She just disappeared, and I found out why when I saw her walk with her new lover. I didn’t kill them. Just to make that clear.” 

You listened to Bri’s story but completely stopped breathing once she so casually mentioned that the woman was her former somewhat lover. Even if it caught you completely off-guard, you were able to listen to the rest of her retelling.  

This was the most you had learnt about her in one single conversation, and it made you mightily happy. You so desperately wanted to ask more questions, about why she wanted to get away, who did kill the two lovebirds, but you didn’t want her to escape back to her quarters again. 

Even if you wanted to get to know her even more when the opportunity had presented itself and she seemed to be open to sharing, you would rather enjoy her presence in silence over not being in her proximity at all. Meaning you only said something to let her know that you had listened and acknowledged her sharing but kept your mouth shut to not let anything slip out. “I see.” 

You stood in silence for a while until Bri opened her mouth to say something but was inevitably disrupted by Will who had shown up at the captain’s side in the blink of an eye to explain that they needed to dock somewhere to resupply.

After the blonde woman had dismissed him, she looked over to you and within seconds you had moved to the sea map to lay a new course towards a pirate-friendly port. 

When you returned to the helm, Bri left for her quarters again. Your absence had surely led to her conflicting with herself again and had probably concluded that she had shared too much with you. You had no idea what she did in her quarters all those hours, but you didn’t want to ask because you wanted to offer her privacy. At least there was some progress. 

------ 

Six months after learning that Bri had a shanty written about her, you had been able to snag her for many more chats and each one lasted longer than the one before.  

You learnt more and more about her in every day that passed and even if you didn’t want to admit it, you were so in love with her. You had known it about one month after sailing with her, but now, you were sure. Her looks combined with her gentle and loving personality made it so easy to fall for her. You just had to make sure that you did not hurt yourself on the way down, but it was a bit too late for that. 

You were more than certain that she didn’t feel the same way, even if she behaved so differently around you than she did around the rest of the crew. However, what you didn’t know, was that Bri was very much attracted to and interested in you and all that you were. Having you next to her every day was one of her greatest privileges and she reveled in your proximity. 

Seeing your face every single morning made her happier than any loot ever could, and she quickly found herself stumbling before she eventually fell for you. Yet, she couldn’t see how anyone could ever find her attractive, less love her. So, she didn’t allow herself to hope that you would feel the same about her and subjected herself to a life of yearning. 

It would have remained hidden until the day you both died - if it weren’t for a cold winter evening.  

The Bloody Sapphire had dropped anchor not that far away from Tarth, and the Sapphire Isle was visible from the deck. The ship was cleverly hidden with its sails and flag lowered to avoid a surprise attack should it be stumbled upon. 

You were just about to retire to bed when you spotted Bri standing by the railing, looking out over the ocean in the direction of Tarth.  

Slowly, you approached her and stopped next to her, looking out over the Sapphire Isle yourself. After so many of your conversations and her sharing so much, you felt confident enough to pose a query after you had stood in stillness for a few minutes. “Do you miss it? Tarth, I mean.” 

Bri leaned against the railing of the ship as she stared at the silhouette of Tarth. Her silences before her answers had become commonplace and you had gotten used to them at this point.

As you patiently awaited her response, you shifted your gaze from the darkened Sapphire Isle to the woman standing next to you. You really couldn’t help yourself when she looked so pretty in the glow of the torch.  

The fire cast a shadow over her face - her side profile looked even more angelic in this light, and you could only wish that you would be able to see her this close and like this so many more times in your life.  

When she finally replied, she ripped you out of your appreciation for her features and you began focusing your attention on her voice as well. “Sometimes. Though it’s very rare. The people I have met on my journey and my crew have treated me so much better than anyone on that island ever did. They have never insulted me. Not once. Not even when they learnt that I was a woman. I never wish to go back there. This is my new family.” 

She was so... vulnerable and it made you shocked. Sure, she had shared small things about herself in your talks but never something this deep. You couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste again. “When they learnt you were a woman? May I inquire in what it is that you mean, Captain?” 

Bri gazed at the Isle where she had grown up and eventually left as she told her story. It almost felt ironic in a way. Like it was coming full circle. Speaking about something she had never uttered out loud as she was close to and looking at Tarth. The island where the anecdote began.  

“When I first snuck aboard a ship that docked by Tarth, I told everyone that my name was Bri, and I even darkened my voice so they would believe that I was a man. When they eventually learnt I was a woman, they welcomed me with open arms instead of shunning me and calling me names. It was such a new approach and reaction. I’ve never been so happy.” Towards the end of her story, the blonde was smiling fondly as she thought back to how welcomed she had felt by a band of outlaws when she couldn’t even get the smallest amount of kindness on Tarth. 

Your gaze never left the captain’s pretty face. You could never get used to how beautiful she looked, and you simply could not believe how other people could not find her as attractive as you did. She was the most gorgeous person you had ever laid your eyes on in your entire life. 

Despite your mind coming up with all sorts of scenarios that would surely be deemed inappropriate should someone hear them, you still managed to ask a follow-up question to Bri’s tale without slipping anything that would let the blonde woman know that something completely different was going on in your head. “So... Bri is not your real name?” 

The captain shook her head before she responded. “No. No one knows my real name. The old band I joined and my current crew stated that to them, my old name does not matter. To them, my name is Bri. Though, I have nothing against my real name. I just prefer to have the rest of the world know me as it, so they get confused when they see that I am a woman.” Bri let out a small chuckle at the end of her explanation. Almost like she was thinking back to the different reactions she had gotten from various captain’s ships that she had boarded. “Except you seem to have known that I was not a man from the beginning based on your reaction when you first saw me...” 

“You are a legend... I had to know more about you. There was not a lot to learn about you from the people I managed to find. I only found out about your womanhood through a friend who works somewhere where tight lips go to blab. She also sees many things. Though, finding out that you were a woman only made me want to sail with you even more... I... May I pry?” Even if Bri seemed to be more comfortable with sharing and answering your queries, you knew that she had a habit of removing herself from the discussion when it was too much, and you did not wish to take her openness for granted. She had done nothing but treat you with respect, so you did the obvious thing and returned the favor. You had no interest in upsetting her when she was so exposed. 

“I see... Yes.” Her answer to your question was fast and equally as quick as she had responded, she turned her head to look at you who was intently admiring her. With her now facing you, you could see her breathtaking blue eyes that sparkled so bewitchingly in the light from the torch just meters away from you both. 

“What is your real name?” The inquiry was a whisper as your eyes scanned her face for any sign of the overweening personality you had gotten used to usually signaling the end of your conversations. It never came. The gentle and careful personality remained. The personality you assumed was the real her. 

Bri opened her mouth to answer your query but stopped when a noise sounded from below deck signaling that one of the crewmates was still awake. The captain turned her head to look at the hatch leading down and waited for someone to pop their head up, but that never happened.  

Even if it was still quiet below deck, she couldn’t risk someone eavesdropping on the conversation considering her behavior was completely opposite from how she usually acted. Before she spoke, she turned her head back to look at you. “We shouldn’t do this here. Join me in my quarters?” 

The question caught you by surprise. Never had you been inside of her quarters before and it was something you could never have dreamt of and now she was extending an invitation. At first, you were unsure if you had heard her correctly but as she looked at you expectantly, you knew you had heard her right. 

You almost screamed your answer, ‘Gods, yes please!’ but that might be seen as a little bit too enthusiastic and would surely weird Bri out. What came out was more composed and calmer - not a single trace of the previous excitement. You were surprised that your voice came out without a single shake, tremor, or stutter considering the storm that was going on inside of your head. “Sure, Captain. If you’d have me.” 

Your answer made Bri smile the smallest bit. She found it endearing. She found you endearing. She spun on her heels and started for the door that led to her cabin, and you followed close behind. 

------

Part two can be found here!

taglist: @na-shoba, @pastanest, @the-fuck-do-i-know, @christies-fleur, @idontlikepexple, @lord6-6fandom, @sapphicmitski

#gwendoline christie #brienne of tarth #brienne x reader #brienne of tarth x reader

[silantryoo]

BONUS [ RP STONT ] — brain cells at work

miny/n's one-month (not real) anniversary!

WARNINGS ; n/a

minji felt like she was going to puke.

she would have never expected to react like this over something that the past minji wouldn't exactly care about. she was never one to care for stupid 'milestone' anniversaries, but she still ended up planning this night for the entire week.

luckily, she managed to play it off like it was spontaneous, something that she knew y/n enjoyed.

hearing the doorbell, minji jumped out of her skin before running to the door. she quickly composed herself and opened it, only to be face-to-face with y/n dressed in an olaf sweater.

minji couldn't help but smile.

"minji!" y/n wrapped her arms around minji tightly.

minji hugged back, hearing her heart beat out of her chest. "unnie, hi."

y/n pulled back, her face slightly red from what minji assumed was over heating.

y/n entered minji's dorm, putting her shoes to the side as the younger girl closed the door behind her. minji could feel the anxiety building up as she watched the older girl turn around.

"i'm ready." y/n smiled.

"i can tell." minji was sure that her face was about to break in half from smiling so much. "you dressed so..."

y/n looked down at her clothes, suddenly feeling slightly embarrassed. she had been so excited that she grabbed her favorite sweater, which happened to be the one that sakura had gifted her to match with eunchae (sven the raindeer) and kazuha (marshmallow the snowman).

"is it weird?" y/n mumbled, missing minji's panicked face. "sorry... i got excited."

"no, it's not bad." minji reassured, biting her cheek as she stopped herself from 'aw'ing. "it's cute, i mean."

"really?" the older girl smiled, feeling her stomach do a somersault. she grinned at minji, clutching onto her shoulder bag. "you're cute too!"

minji almost choked.

"oh." minji awkwardly smiled, trying her best not to panic. "thank you."

y/n frowned, noticing that minji's face had dropped. she didn't want minji to feel uncomfortable in her own house. "sorry, i'll stop for today."

minji frowned. she didn't want y/n to stop complimenting her. unlike how she usually felt with compliments, she looked forward to the older girl's. it made her feel like she was back on their first 'non' date, back when y/n had managed to make minji like her.

she didn't want her to stop.

"no, unnie," minji nearly begged, hating the frown that y/n was sporting. "it's fine—"

"can i put my bag in your room?" y/n cut her off, just wanting to forget the interaction.

minji bit her lip. so far, the night was going the exact opposite of how she planned it. she should've been making the older girl laugh, not making her feel like she didn't want her. that was the exact opposite of her goal.

still, minji humored the older girl. "right away?"

"why?" y/n squinted playfully, a small smile appearing back on her face. "are you hiding something?"

minji's eyes widened, confirming y/n's suspicions. the older idol's eyes lit up. she opened her mouth to ask.

"no! just," minji cut her off, clearing her throat as y/n smirked at her. "just stay here."

y/n giggled, sitting on the couch as minji hurried to her room. she closed the door carefully, making her way to her closet. opening it, she stared face to face with the cake that she has ordered for today.

she opened it, the blueberry cake staring her in the face. happy that everything was intact, she picked it up, sneaking out and running into hanni's room to hide it in her closet.

"minji! hurry up!" the girl heard from the living room. "i miss you!"

minji stiffened, covering her face as she silently squealed into her hands. the young idol swore under her breath, her entire face turning bright red as she continued to freak out. after a could seconds, she had managed to calm down.

she was just thankful that there was no one around her.

minji walked out seemingly intact.

"sorry, i took long." minji smiled, sitting down next to y/n. "my room's just the first door to the right. c'mon."

y/n nodded, following minji as the two made her way into her room.

y/n grinned, the room exactly how she imagined minji's brain was like. the walls were white, and the walls, though filled with posters, were obviously categorized into specific sections. minji's desk was in the corner facing towards the window. her bed was also white, but a singular stuffed rabbit had stared y/n back at her.

y/n hated that stupid rabbit.

she quickly put her bag next to minji's closet and the two walked out to the living room.

"do you want to watch a movie?" minji asked, turning off the tv and dimming the living room lights.

y/n hummed. "i wanna watch barbie and the nutcracker."

minji wasn't sure she heard the older girl right. she wouldn't watch a movie that hyein would watch... would she? "i'm sorry?"

"barbie and the nutcracker?" y/n looked at the younger girl, wondering if she knew what movie that was.

"no way!" minji protested, earning an offended gasp from y/n. "that's a children's movie."

"you have no taste, kim minji." y/n frowned. she watched minji stare at her with a blank face. "fine. what do you want to watch?"

minji looked away, trying to think of an entertaining movie that she had watched that y/n would enjoy. "the kissing booth."

"you want to watch the kissing booth?" y/n stood up, now offended. "why?!"

"it's a good movie!" minji continued to argue, her eyebrows furrowing together.

y/n scoffed, sitting back down as she crossed her arms. "barbie is better."

"no."

"please!" y/n whined, turning to minji and pouting.

minji quickly closed her eyes, knowing that she would be swayed as soon as she opened them.

"i'll love you forever." y/n teased, slightly feeling a tug in her chest as she said those words.

"oh, um," minji's face turned a bright red and suddenly she was grateful that she had dimmed the lights. she cleared her throat, opening her eyes. "okay, we'll watch barbie."

"yes! thank you!" y/n engulfed minji in a hug, one that the younger girl gladly returned. "i actually love you so much."

minji was sure that y/n was trying to kill her.

"uh, yeah," minji whispered, earning a smile from the girl. minji just wished she could tell her. "me... me too."

the movie was turning out much better than minji had expected, even distracting her from the fact that she had fully wrapped her arm around y/n's waist, a goal that she had set when she had been planning for this night (and a goal that hanni and haerin laughed at her for).

she had completely missed the full panic that y/n had been going through because despite having the movie completely memorized, all she could focus on was the warmth of minji's arm and how minji seemed to squeeze her waist whenever something interesting happened.

she looked over to the younger girl, deciding that minji looked prettier than ever before. she wanted to have minji hold her like this, and bring her to some weird corner store that had the most obscure western food that they could find. she wanted minji to look at her feeling the way that y/n felt when she looked at the younger girl.

y/n just wanted minji, and that scared her.

the two girls jumped, hearing minji's phone alarm go off.

"why do you have an alarm?" y/n tried to look at what it said, but minji covered her phone before the older girl could see.

"no reason." minji swallowed, sending a somewhat (not really) reassuring smile to the older girl. "i just have to go to the washroom."

"okay but don't make me wait too long." y/n frowned.

minji found herself smiling at the older girl once more. "are you a dog or something?"

"no." y/n rolled her eyes, a grin stuck on her face. she could hear her heart in her ears as she whispered. "i just like being around you."

"i won't be long, unnie." minji squeezed her waist. "i promise."

"i'll be waiting."

minji pulled away, making y/n immediately frown. the older girl missed her presence. she knew it wouldn't take long, but she wanted to be around minji as much as she could.

y/n bit her tongue. she was starting to feel like what she felt for the younger girl wasn't normal. she didn't feel like this around her members or around yujin and hanni. it was only with minji.

y/n frowned. she couldn't actually like minji... could she?

minji cleared her throat, both scaring y/n and bringing her out of her thoughts. y/n turned around to find minji standing with a cake in her hands, a singular candle illuminating her face as barbie played in the background.

"what the hell?"

"sorry you hate to wait so long." minji apologized, her face clearly bright red. she gripped the cake tighter. "i prepared this whole speech in my head but i got so nervous i forgot it so i had to rememorize it."

y/n could feel her heart swelling up. "you didn't have to..."

minji smiled, crouching down as she placed the cake on the coffee table. she sat on the ground and gave y/n a party hat, minji sporting her own. she ushered her to sit. the older girl followed, her eyes shiny as tears started to build up slowly.

"unnie, i'm sorry that i never reached out to you when we were trainees." minji whispered, her eyes trained onto y/n's. "i'm sorry that i let you hate me without showing you who i really was and i'm sorry that i put you in such a shitty position."

"it's okay." y/n nodded, trying her best not to cry. "it's not your fault."

minji continued to smile softly at the girl.

"even though i'm sorry, i'm glad that i ended up in this situation with you. you've been so nice to me, and sometimes i feel like i'm in l—" minji coughed, her eyes widening. she had no idea where that had come from, considering that was not what she had planned to say in the first place. she shook her head, trying to not think about it too much. "sometimes i feel like we were always meant to be friends."

"minji..." y/n's tears fell slowly and for the first time in a while, she truly felt like she was loved. "you're gonna make me cry."

minji felt water welling up in her eyes as she smiled. she leaned over to y/n, wiping her face as more tears continued to fall down the older girls face.

"i'm sorry i have such a hard time saying it back, but i do love you." minji pulled back, playing with her fingers. "thank you for spending this time with me."

y/n gave a wavering smile. "thank you for letting me."

"blow the candles out and make a wish." minji looked at the dwindling light, watching as the cake illuminated with a pink light coming from the tv.

y/n nodded, closing her eyes and wishing for the thing she wanted the most in that moment.

i wish to be as happy as i am now with minji forever.

she blew the candle out, turning to find minji grinning back at her. y/n felt the air escape her lungs.

"thank you minji." y/n whispered, finding it hard to look into the younger girl's eyes. "you really didn't have to."

"it's okay, unnie, really." minji grabbed y/n's hand, giving it a light squeeze. "you're definitely worth it."

y/n looked up and saw minji happier than y/n had ever seen her. she couldn't believe that she had caused that, but y/n knew that she would do whatever it took to see minji like this again.

she looked at the cake once more.

oh, y/n thought, i think i like minji.

masterlist | next

taglist (CLOSED)!!

@fav9yu @gojosrug @lizseos @captivq @invusblog @writingficsblog @wonyoluvr @limbforalimb @lethalvenus @archerheejin @bibrinastan @ahnneyong @theeyoon @phamminji @chaersly @misumiausworld @afiaaaa19 @yumtooki @oshyci @txtbrainrot @falling-intoo-deep @0310lvr @yizhoutv @rinpopz @serenitygrace24 @noiacha @marimo-anura @sserajeans @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @rd0265667 @li0ilthecxnt @dmndtears @rosiehrs @yeridaenggi @spritin @cecedrake2217 @meltingbluess @jeonsy98 @haerinstolemyhrt @ssambf @awkwardtoafault @babycubchae @perfectsunlight

#kim minji x reader #minji x reader #newjeans x reader #new jeans x reader #le sserafim x reader #newjeans smau #smau #idol x reader #silantryo

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

You’re Losing Me

Finnick Odair x Reader

Summary: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s “You’re Losing Me.” How Finnick loses the best thing he’s ever had

Warnings: So much angst, the angsty-est thing I’ve written in a long time. Not spellchecked and originally types on my phone. 

Word Count: 1.3k (sorry it’s short, I’m getting used to writing one shots again)

Masterlist

I sat quietly in m- Finnick’s home in Victor’s Village. No matter how long I lived here and how many assurances I had gotten in the past that it was my home too, it never felt like that. I’m not a victor, just a girl who had been lucky enough to never be reaped. But because of my luck I felt like an outsider in my boyfriend’s community here in 4. As for his life in the Capitol? That was uncharted territory I never wanted to touch. As much as he tried to shield me from the issues I was keenly aware of Finnick’s role in the Capitol as well as the conniving souls that dwelled in it.

As I was stewing in my thoughts Finnick entered, clearly exhausted from his time in the Capitol. “Hey,” I called softly, not bothering to look up since I knew he wouldn’t.

I got a grumbled greeting as he continued into his bedroom. His dismissal stung but I had mostly gotten used to it. I wasn’t sure what changed. Maybe he was just exhausted now, maybe someone else has replaced me in his mind, maybe he has gotten tired of my presence, I didn’t quite know. All I knew was that three months ago he had gotten back from this year’s games and he was completely different. He wasn’t the doting boyfriend who was eager to see me anymore. But I just took it because I knew my heart couldn’t take losing him and yet I felt like he was losing me. I could actually feel my affections slipping away, it was like my heart wouldn’t start for him anymore. It wasn’t hell, it was purgatory.

Sighing I got up, heading to the guest room seeing as there was no point in me sitting up.

~

By morning I was up early, way earlier than Finnick. So I went to the market in an effort to avoid the crowds and get groceries before the sun had a chance to spoil them.

Returning to the house I found Finnick standing in the kitchen in half-dressed disarray. “Y/N,” he breathed as I stepped into view. I stared at him blankly, unsure what to make of the situation. He stumbled over to me, kicking off the half laced up shoe. I couldn’t even comprehend what was happening, still unsure of myself when he threw his arms around me. My own arms unable to move both because my brain was still catching up and my arms were weighed down by heavy grocery bags. “You didn’t come to bed last night,” he whispered in explanation, “and then you were gone this morning— Y/N, I love you so much.”

A part of me was relieved to have his attention again but my logical side was saying that this man had disregarded me for months. I scoffed, “How can you say you love me when you didn’t even know I was dying for the past three months? Or didn’t even acknowledge it.”

He stepped back, looking down in shame. “I’m sorry, I just- I couldn’t admit that we were sick.”

“You made us like that. You just stopped acknowledging me.” Tears were slipping out of my eyes now.

“I was trying to protect you,” he admitted. “You know how the Capitol feels about me.”

“Stop, you’re losing me. I know how they felt about you even before we got together. It’s something else,” I confronted him. I waited expectantly but Finnick just stared at the floor. Exasperated and feeling every emotion in existence I filled the silence. “Do something, say something, lose something, risk something, choose something, anything just don’t ignore me,” I begged. Realizing he wouldn’t do anything I spoke again after a beat of silence. “Well if you won’t fight for us… then let me go.” My heart shattered with those words.

That finally got Finnick to respond as he looked up. “What?” He approached me before dropping to his knees, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Y/N please don’t. Please stay, I’m sorry,” now he was crying and begging.

“Look, I wouldn’t marry me either,” I confessed, “but I just wanted you to see me. But I gave you all my best, and all of my empathy but you just watched me bleed.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t.”

“Why now?”

“Because we’re just sitting in darkness and it’s time. Finnick,” the tears were coming so fast I could hardly speak, “I could never lose you but you’re losing me so please, I’m begging you, let me go.”

I felt his arms wrap tighter around me as his body wracked with sobs. “Goodbye Y/N.”

“Thank you,” I sobbed, running my fingers through his hair one last time before stepping out of his grasp. As I grabbed a couple things I watched him fold in on himself sobbing.

~

Finnick felt empty, he had for the past several months now that Y/N was gone. He knew it was selfish but he wished he hadn’t let her go because if he hadn’t uttered those words, she’d still be in his home right now.

Instead, he’s sitting in a bar in 4, ready to get blackout drunk when she walks in, hanging off the arm with an old friend, Ronan Hayden. A guy Finnick had had continuous issues with while he was dating Y/N.

Finnick tried to swallow his anger in the form of his first shot but it only made him angrier. So he ordered a beer, thinking that a slower drink may take his mind off of it.

After stewing for an hour and with his inhibitions lowered by the alcohol, Finnick had had enough watching Y/N laugh at Ronan’s jokes. Taking another shot for courage, Finnick stormed up to her table.

As the angry blond approached, Y/N finally seemed to realize her ex was in the same establishment she was. “Finnick,” she acknowledged in surprise.

“What the hell-” Ronan began angrily.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Finnick cut him off. “I really am and I know no amount of words can undo the pain I put you through but I have to try to atone for what I did. You know how they say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone? I’m so so sorry I couldn’t appreciate you then but I can now. I’ll spend the rest of our lives appreciating you and trying to make up for what I did and for the months we lost because I was acting like a dick. And- and,” Finnick was nervous and rambling now, sobriety seeming to kick in, “I’ve thought about what you’d do or say when you saw my face again. Whether you’d have me back or tell me to go fuck myself,” he chuckled awkwardly. “But I needed to try.”

She pursed her lips, looking conflicted before she looked down at the table, both men eager for her affections waiting with bated breath. “Finnick… for months while we were still together and weeks after I tried to restart my pulse but my heart just won’t start for you anymore. You wouldn’t choose me and I’m not convinced you’d consistently choose me if I took you back. All I wanted was for you to see me but you kept running in the other direction. An- and honestly,” she stuttered out nervously, turning to look at Ronan, “I’m falling in love again.” The man visibly melted at her words while Finnick deflated. “I’ll be honest, our breakup devastated me,” she looked back up at her ex, “it was like a plane was going down but Ronan here turned it around. I’m sorry Finnick, but you lost me.”

With those words she cemented the door shut and completely tore out Finnick’s heart. He solemnly nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry I lost you.”

Masterlist

#finnick #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #thg finnick #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader

[assaily]

Feeding the fandom some more. :)

Working Title: Hide the Morning from the Stars Colloquial title: Mute Five Themes: I don't even know anymore

This is a Very rough draft. Like so rough I don't even think my tensing is consistent throughout. This is Five's loneliest first year of retirement ever. And also him hanging out with Grace.

Major warning for the beginning for suicidal thoughts and behaviors.

~Post Mute~

Five takes the gun out of his mouth, his tongue flexing against the heavy iron tang of metal. The weight of it is familiar and cold in his hand as he sets it down on the edge of the sink, his shaking fingers pressing the safety back into place.

He’s just being dramatic. It’s all those teenage hormones mixing badly with all the trauma Five honestly didn’t think he’d live long enough to have to deal with. Oh,  and one hell of a hangover. That’s all it is, dramatics. If he thinks for a minute, plans this out, he realizes how horrible of an idea it is.

He can’t make Mom clean his brain matter off the walls. That would be cruel, even for him. Dramatics. Besides, his siblings would hear the gunshot. He doesn’t really want them to find him. Klaus would summon him before he had a chance to cross over and they’d give him a ream of shit for making such a mess. The idea of being yelled at again is exhausting.

“Can’t you have done this at a hotel or something?” He can imagine them saying to his corpse, scoffing and shaking their heads in disappointment. They’re right, of course, he shouldn’t do this at home. 

He sighs, closing his eyes against the judgment staring back at him through the mirror. He tries to settle the shaking in his body but can only seem to draw it in, not vanquish it. He’s never really calm anymore. He wasn’t much before, but at least he could pretend.

These days it feels like every defense he’s ever built for himself has been stripped away, leaving him raw and naked and fragile in ways he can’t compute. It makes him nasty and hateful, covering himself in glass so that the moment someone reaches out, they bleed. He wants to be normal, he wants to be able to have a conversation with his siblings without thinking they’re judging him, and without picking a fight. He wants to scream and cry and beg them.

But he’s not sure what he would beg for, only that he wants something desperately, but something else inside of him, something old and stalwart and terrified refuses to let him ask. So he picks fights, he’s nasty without knowing why, and his siblings hate him for it.

He opens a drawer below the sink and tucks the little ruger beneath a pile of clean washcloths. This used to be his and Ben’s bathroom, but he’s the only one that uses it now. The others don’t really come up here, even less now that the honeymoon period has passed and they have no desire to keep him company anymore. 

Allison mostly lives in California now, Viktor lives out there too, but they both come to visit every couple of months, staying for a week at a time. Diego lives outside the house with Klaus, and recently Luther found a job that would pay him enough to afford his own apartment. He hasn’t moved out yet, but he’s actively looking.

This is what Five wanted, them living their lives and moving on, but he has to remind himself like he forgot. He wanted to give them the opportunities he never had, and he succeeded. He’s not sure why it feels so terrible now, but he suspects it’s only a symptom of the sickness sitting like a rot in his bones.

He makes a point of not looking at himself, wetting his hairbrush under the faucet in an attempt to tame his bedhead. The scratch of the bristles against his skin hurts, so he pressed harder.

Allison and Viktor are at the end of their visit, and everyone is in the house. They’d be gone by tonight, and the house would go back to the coffin it was without the others, but in the meantime, Five wanted to look at least a little put together for them. He doesn’t want them to worry, but with the constant arguing he figures he can get away with less and less grooming.

His hair is getting long and he hasn’t really had the energy to cut it yet. It’s getting a little annoying, the way it falls into his eyes and curls at the nape of his neck. He’d go to a barber if he thought he could get through the encounter without snatching the scissors away and ending the life of the poor girl unlucky enough to draw the short straw.

When he finishes, he finally looks back at himself. He still looks like garbage, his skin an unhealthy pallor, accentuating the dark circles weighing down his eyes. The water managed to tame some of the mess of his hair, but it’s obviously greasy, flakes of dandruff like ash on his scalp. His reflection glares back at him, anger and disappointment like a stone in his stomach.

He really is a dramatic bastard. Today of all days, he figured he’d leave it in the drawer. Playing the wishing game with all his siblings home. He can’t even deny that of the cry for attention it is. Disgusting, really. His siblings could probably smell him rotting from here.

He considers a shower. It would make him feel better, a little more human at least, before he goes downstairs and has to pretend at it. The idea of getting wet, and having to put his clothes back on with wet skin makes him grimace. He doesn’t want to be cold either, because he can never seem to get warm. No use making it worse.

He flicks the light off and  cracks the door behind him as he leaves. He shuffles back to his room to find something cleaner to wear. He should have washed his face, but now that he’s away from the mirror, he doesn’t have the energy to go back to it.

Mom keeps an ever revolving source of clean clothes for him, so that part of his routine is easy at least. He doesn’t have to think too hard about it, it’s the middle of winter so that means layers, and Five likes layers. They don’t really keep him warm, but that’s normal. No, he likes them because it’s a little like putting on a suit of armor. It’s just fabric, but it still manages to trick some animal part of his brain into thinking he might be a little safer. No more warm, but far less likely to freeze.

Which is an odd quirk, considering his insistence to play the wishing game every fucking morning.

In his defense, he doesn’t usually pull the gun out. He usually he just stares at the whelp in the mirror, wondering why the fuck he’s still here when he feels this horrible all the time. Then he bucks up, cleans up, and moves on with his day.

The ruger is just… He put it there in case of emergencies. Doesn’t hurt to have a few weapons hidden around the house in case the commission decides to come knocking again. He’s not sure when he started pointing it at himself. It’s a bad habit. There are better ways, less violent ways. Ways that don’t make a mess for his family to clean up after him.

He’s just being dramatic. That’s all it is. Nothing more. Being a teenager sucks. He remembers how much better things got when his hormones weren’t through the roof, making his emotions sharp and fragile all the time, making the loneliness so much harder to ignore.

This too shall pass, he would always say to himself. Over and over, like a prayer to an unloving universe. Please, just let it pass. Five is pretty sure he doesn’t really want to be alive anymore, but he also hates wanting to die. It puts a grayish filter on everything, on every thought and interaction. He’s alive, and hates living. Worse than surviving and already feeling dead. There’s a certain numbness to the in-between space of not wanting to be alive, but not wanting to kill himself either, and he yearns for it now in the throes of a worse agony.  

But again, he’s just being dramatic. Pesky hormones. This too shall pass and all that. 

He dresses quickly, changing from yesterday’s sleep rumpled long sleeves and sweaters into cleaner ones. He reuses a layer, the fabric of a knitted shirt warm in his nearly numb hands and it’s not something he wants to waste. The bottom hem on the back is dirty, and there’s a food stain on the front of it. It still smells vaguely like the alcohol he drank last night, but he puts it on as a middle layer. His hands are easily swallowed in the outer layers, and he has the idea some of it might belong to Diego. He stole a number of garments from them all last fall, and plans to give them back at the end of spring, if he makes it that long.

Spring still feels so far away, it’s hard to think that far ahead.

Five looks like shit, and he feels like shit, but he still dares Diego to say anything about it when he arrives downstairs. He walked the first part, then warped the last floor into the kitchen once he got close enough. The air was warmer down here, the heaters worked better on the ground floors, and no one had lived in the upper floors until recently. It was his first winter home, and he almost wonders if it’s worth trying to fix. Might be easier to just move, but he likes his bedroom high above the street. He spent a lot of last summer drinking on his fire escape; it’s familiar in a wildly unfamiliar world.

“Hey,” Diego greets, giving him an appraising look but not saying anything about the fact that Five’s wearing one of his sweaters.

Five nods a greeting before he busies himself pulling a mug from the cupboard and getting a cup of coffee. The pot’s still on and half-full, likely courtesy of Mom, so it’s a short lived distraction. He almost wishes he put something in his coffee so he has an excuse to linger without making it awkward.

“I heard you and Allison got into a fight last night,” Diego says, a hint of sardonics in his voice. “Well, pretty sure the whole block heard.”

Five grimaces behind the rim of his mug, throat too tight to take a sip. It seems he’s always fighting with someone.

“Nothing to say, huh?”

Five’s pretty sure he said enough last night, regardless of how little he even remembers. Might be time to lay off drinking, even as he already wishes for something to put in his coffee. He shrugs his shoulders, throat still tight and getting tighter. It’s almost hard to breathe and his head is pounding.

Diego sighs, sounding exhausted. “Look, I’ve been talking the othe–”

Five doesn’t hear the rest, pulling himself through a tear in space. He stumbles out the other side, managing to set the coffee on his desk before his knees buckle and he topples to the floor. He lays there for a while, wheezing softly and trying to catch his breath. There isn’t much going through his head, besides how grateful he is that he saved his coffee. There was no way in hell he was going down for another.

-

He helps Mom with chores in the evenings, usually after Luther’s gone to bed and the house is painfully silent. She hums while she works, washing the dishes and cleaning up after dinner. Five sits in with her, finishing up any leftover in the pots or pans. He follows her like a ghost back upstairs, and helps her fold laundry. The laundry room is usually pleasantly warm, and Five sometimes dozes off listening to Mom hum, sprawled out on a table.

When she’s finishes with all that, she heads into the library and settles down on a couch someone had moved there in the months following their return. This is a newer part of her routine, one that Five created with his presence and can’t make himself feel bad about. The blanket draped over the back is a deep verdant green and pleasantly soft texture.

Mom settles on one end, picking up a book from the table besides the couch. He’s not sure when she started reading, or if she always did that and he just didn’t remember. For some reason it makes her seem more human. Sometimes she reads heavy tomes of obscure information, sometimes it's children’s fantasy.

Five collapses onto the couch beside her, leaning his weight against her side and sighing in the deepest relief as she wraps her arm around his shoulders. He beyond caring at this point, and Mom’s not one to judge. He rests his body against her’s for a while, breathing with her simulated breath, forcing himself to relax and finding it hard.

He still can’t get himself to stop shaking, and now with an arm around him, his vulnerabilities and hurts come bubbling up like blood from a wound. He can’t pull it in, his hands shake horribly in his lap, and clasping them together just seems to make it look worse.

She never opened her book, and she senses his distress instantly, something he hates and can’t help but be grateful for. She doesn’t ask him what’s wrong, merely pushes the book away and turns toward him to give him her full attention.

It’s too much and he nearly begins to sob. 

She shushes him gently when he swallows it down, one of her hands tracing his cheek before pulling him to rest his face against her. He wraps his arms around her back, clinging to her like a child, like he never had before and feels so stupid to do now. He can’t stop himself, it all hurts so much and he just wants it all to end. This doesn’t make him feel better, but it makes him feel something else beside the horrifying nothing eating at his bones.

She runs a hand through his hair and down the nape of his neck. He feels her hand pause and come back to his kneck, searching for his pulse. He pulls away, both out of confusion, and to allow her more access. Her face is neutral, but she frowns minutely at him before tucking his head against her.

“You’re experiencing heart palpitations,” she says, not at all asking.

He was ignoring up until now, the way his chest was tight and his heart was doing uneven little leaps and lurches. It was hard to get a full breath in, constricting in his throat, too. He nodded against her, swallowing hard when the words refused to come.

“You’re temperature is a little elevated. How are you feeling darling?”

Horrible, he tried to say, but while his mouth worked around the word, his throat spasmed silently.

#yeah i absolutely am in a different tense by the end lmao #tua #tua fanfic #the umbrella academy #fanfiction #five hargreeves

[teenytinyjimin]

if it all ended tomorrow (k. seokjin)

if the sun refused to shine

baby, would i still be your lover?

would you want me there

if the moon went dark tonight?

summary: kim seokjin is an angel, and the only lover she ever needed.

pairing: seokjin x reader

word count: 2.07k

tags: major character death, perfect!seokjin (he’s already perfect anyway), enamored!oc that views him as her entire world

warnings: none except the fact that this is gonna be TRAGIC and i apologize so effing much

author’s note: kim line SLAUGHTERED 🔪 jk but interesting how my first three fics on here r of the kim line. anyways ty for the support <3

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

If she were going to be honest with herself, she'd say, quite plainly, that her life has no meaning or no value. There had been far too much that had happened recently that left her almost numb to any thoughts or feelings she might have or, alternatively, want to have. Most of her days were spent either sitting in bed, stuffing her face with an ungodly amount of food, or going to work and overworking herself to the point where she could barely stand up because of how physically and mentally exhausted she was.

Nothing about these habits was enjoyable in any sense of the word. She didn't like the feeling of being unproductive and unworthy of life. She wanted so desperately to get back into the swing of things. But alas, she couldn't do it even if she forced herself to.

That's why she needed someone else to force her. And that's what happened today. She was invited to a celebration being hosted in an event building at a local park. Her mom encouraged her to 'get out of the house', her friends told her that it would be best to 'stay in-tune with reality', and her boyfriend's friend, a young man named Jungkook, practically begged her to go. Honestly, the first two encouragements weren't enough to get her to go to the event. It was Jungkook's pleading, with his big doe eyes welled with tears and face filled with worry - worry for her wellbeing - that convinced her that she should do something rather than rot in bed.

So here she was, outside of the private event building, watching people walk in before her. She was quite afraid to take a step inside the door because of the judgment she was anticipating. As soon as she was in sight of everyone within the room, she would receive stares, people would whisper, and she would be treated as if she were fragile and deserving of pity. She didn't want that. She just wanted to attend the celebration, make Jungkook happy, and leave.

With a deep sigh, she closed her eyes for a moment and tried to clear her mind of any anxiety she felt in that moment. Her first time being seen by other people in months was something that terrified her, but she wasn't going to let it get to her. She had already let a million other things get to her. Maybe her mom was right. Maybe she did need to get out of the house. Go back to normal life.

As soon as she stepped into the building, she admired how beautifully it was decorated. Pink decorations everywhere, with flowers and music and the sweet scent of roses and candy. It was truly incredible to see how well-put-together the celebration was. She was in awe.

She continued to look around in an attempt to spot people she recognized. She already saw Jungkook on the opposite side of the building with a few of his other friends, however he hadn't seen her yet. She also spotted her boyfriend's parents, standing and talking to other older adults with solemn looks on their faces. And finally, upon scanning the room a little more, she spotted her boyfriend himself. Kim Seokjin, the love of her life.

He looked beautiful. His face, so soft and full of life, sat there smiling back at her. The slight glow to him made him look unreal, as if he had been an angel who landed on earth just for her. Looking at him made her heart completely stop, as it always did, and her brain went fuzzy. Something about him always made her act like a complete fool and she was never able to behave normally around him. She was completely, entirely, 100% head over heels for this man and she always would be.

They say that when you die, the best moments of your life replay in your final seven minutes. And while she wasn't quite dead, looking at her Seokjin started those seven beautiful minutes.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

May 15th, 2015

Tousling her hair a little bit to give it last-minute volume, she heard the honk of a car horn outside of her home. In an enamored frenzy, she smiled widely and started spritzing on her perfume like a maniac before quickly looking in the mirror one last time. She didn't wear dresses all too often, so felt a bit overdressed, but she knew it was for good reason. She grabbed her purse and walked out the door, only to see her gorgeous boyfriend leaning against his car.

Now that she was seeing him in all his glory, she changed her mind. She now felt rather underdressed. Seokjin had his hair beautifully slicked back and was dressed in a stunning tuxedo, holding a bouquet of pink roses. His face, sheen and sparkly, lit up upon seeing her, and his plump lips curled into the softest of smiles.

"You look beautiful," he complimented as she approached him, offering her the roses. "I mean, you're always beautiful, but... wow." A bright red crept to her cheeks as she took the roses and planted a soft kiss upon his cheek. "So do you, Jinnie." His smile now growing much bigger, he gave her a gentle nod and turned to open her car door. As soon as she got in and situated, he closed the door and returned to his side, promptly getting in.

"I have dinner reservations for us, and then I thought we could see where the night takes us. I know neither of us really like being spontaneous, but I didn't really have any other plans," Jin admits sheepishly. "But I figured neither of us would mind as long as we were spending time together, right? Being next to you is enough for me."

"Sounds wonderful," She responded, placing a gentle hand on his knee. She didn't listen to a damn word he said, far too hypnotized by his beauty, but she'd do anything he wanted if it meant being with him.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

July 9th, 2016

“Don’t worry dear, they’ll love you.”

She felt her boyfriend leave a soft kiss on her temple before looking up at him with wide and nervous eyes. She hadn’t said anything since they got out of the car and approached the apartment complex, yet he could easily read her mind without any words being exchanged. Today she was meeting Jin’s best friends and she couldn’t be any more terrified.

She had heard a lot about them. Seokjin never stopped talking about them, in fact. He loved bragging about his friend group and the fun things they’d do, and it almost made her a little jealous because the truth was that she didn’t have a friend group that was even half as close as it seemed like these seven boys were.

“What if they don’t?” The words barely escaped her lips as her bottom one trembled in upset. She wanted to be strong for her boyfriend, she really did, but she was far too anxious about this. He let out a soft hum and reached out to press the stop button on the elevator before turning to her and grabbing her hands.

“Do you trust me?”

She stared into his eyes. His big, beautiful eyes. The eyes that would never tell a lie, and would never lead her astray. She knew she was in good hands, she truly did, but something about the situation made her uneasy. Perhaps it was just the fact that she was meeting so many people at once. Not just people, it seemed like they were a rather rowdy group of boys.

“…Yeah.”

Jin smiled gently as he reached in to place a kiss on her lips and restart the elevator at the same time. “Then you’ll be fine. I promise.”

And just as Jin had promised, she found herself engulfed in dozens of hugs by these six other boys. Not only that, but she felt as if she had been a part of their friend group, their little chaotic family, since the very beginning.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

October 23rd, 2022

"Are you awake yet, beautiful?"

Still half asleep, she stirred in bed, eyes opening to see a blurry Seokjin standing in the doorway of their shared bedroom. He was holding something rather large in both hands, however she wasn't yet awake enough to figure out what it was.

Letting out a soft groan, she rubbed her eyes and sat up in bed. Now that she was able to get a clear view of her gorgeous boy, still in his pajamas but otherwise ready for the day, she saw that he was holding a tray of food. It took her a second to realize that he was delivering her breakfast in bed, but once she realized, a huge grin appeared on her face.

"I am now..." She trailed off, marveling over the food that her lover was now placing in front of her as he crawled onto the bed next to her.

"I couldn't sleep any longer, so I decided to make you some food. I also cut up those strawberries we had in the fridge that we kinda forgot about." He grabbed one and looked at it. "I promise they're still good. I checked each one." Letting a soft giggle out, she looked over at Jin with lidded eyes. "Thank you, baby." She said as he offered her the strawberry in his hand which she accepted graciously.

The rest of their breakfast in bed date was comprised of Jin doing most of the talking while he fed her the different foods he had set up on the tray, insisting that he didn't want her to have to lift a finger and just wanted her to enjoy some good food. From time to time, he got a little too passionate about whatever topic he was speaking about and almost nearly missed her mouth completely, resulting in a few times where he had to wipe around her lips with a napkin and her teasing him until he shut her up with a kiss.

"You know," She said, taking a pause to swallow the food in her mouth. "I absolutely adore you."

"Glad to know the feeling's mutual," Seokjin smiled softly as he fed her the next bite.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Present

“I’m glad you made it,” Her attention was drawn from the picture of her boyfriend to the voice coming from next to her, none other than Jungkook. “It would’ve hurt if you didn’t come.”

She sighed, looking over at her friend with sad eyes. “I didn’t want to if I’m honest. But I knew that if anyone had to be here it had to be me.”

Jungkook wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they stood in silence for what seemed like forever. Part of her wanted to break down sobbing in order to release the emotion she’s been holding on to for so long. But the other part of her, the bigger part, enjoyed the silence and enjoyed spending it with one of her boyfriend’s best friends.

“You know he loved you, right? More than anything in this world,” Jungkook looked at her briefly before looking back at the framed picture of Jin. “You were his everything. There wasn’t a single conversation we had that didn’t involve you in some way. Nothing else mattered to him but you.”

She knew that what Jungkook was saying was true, even if she didn’t want to physically admit it. Obviously they never spoke about funeral plans because they never saw either one of them dying so soon, but she knew that if Seokjin wanted a celebration of life she was the only one he’d ever want there. No one else mattered except for her. The world could have been engulfed in flames but he would’ve been as happy as can be if she was happy too. He would’ve moved mountains for her, walked across a desert with no water for her, killed for her. And the truth is that she would have done the same for him.

Life without Jin wasn’t going to be an easy one. But coming to the celebration of life, seeing his picture, and spending a moment with one of his closest friends made her realize that if she truly loved him, she would do what he would’ve wanted and keep living. For him. Her dearest angel Jin.

#teenytinyjimin #bangtan #bts fanfic #bts #bts fanfiction #bts fic #bts jin #bts seokjin #bts jungkook #seokjin fanfic #jin fanfic #kim seokjin #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #fanfic #jungkook #jeon jungkook

[drewsbuzzcut]

I Wanna Stay Here Forever

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses blurb

warnings: a few cuss words, a hint of stress about money, mentions of being naked

The shrill, incessant beeping that was coming from the alarm clock brought you out of your sleep. Your very warm, very comfortable sleep. You were cuddled into the heaps of pillows and blankets on the bed, and Mat was cuddled into you. Well, more like on top of you. The majority of his body overlaps your own. His stomach is pressed against your side, almost fully pressed to your stomach, his head is placed in the crook of your neck- his breath tickling you every so often, and one leg thrown over both of yours while one arm is resting over your waist and the other is raised over both of your heads. Your favorite giant heater.

You start to squirm under Mat once you realized the alarm hasn’t been snoozed. He is still dead asleep.

“Mathew,” you groan out and pinch his side to wake him up.

He just mumbles incoherently, pulling your body closer to his.

“Mathew, turn off your alarm,” you whine.

“S’not mine,” he sighs out.

Shit…

“I’m off. Remember?” He continues.

“Fuck! Fuck!” You blurt out, quickly sitting up and pushing Mat off of you. You were probably going to be late now.

You had a shoot booked this morning and if you weren’t on the subway in 40 minutes, you’d be late and in lots of trouble. You still sit in bed for a few more minutes, though. You contemplate over why you decided to book something on Mat’s off day. You sigh and mumble jumbled up curses under your breath.

“Just stay,” Mat muses, attempting to pull you back down into the bed.

“I can’t,” you whisper, hand brushing some of his hair away from his forehead.

“Please. Stay here. With me. We can stay cuddled up in bed, or we can even cuddle naked. I know how much you like that; my warm hands traveling all over your body- nice and comforting,” Mat tries to convince you.

He’s absolutely correct, you love cuddling- even more when you’re both naked. He always give you little massages, and gives you kisses everywhere he can reach. It was truly tempting.

“No. I need to get up. I need this shoot to cover the rest of my rent next month,” you state, getting completely out of bed when you only get silence from Mat in return. You just assumed he had fallen back to sleep.

You sluggishly get through most of routine until you’re interrupted by Mat. You were applying some light lipgloss when you felt his arms wrap around your shoulders. He gives you little kisses on your temple and squeezes you as close to him as possible.

“Stay,” he says again.

“Mat, I can’t. I want to, but I need this pay,” you say back.

“I will cover your rent next month,” he says so simply.

You turn around in his hold, so you can get a good look at him.

“No. I don’t want to do that. I’m a big girl! I can pay my own rent!” You declare.

“I know that, babe. I’m not trying to take that away from you, but how often do we get to spend a whole day together?” He reasons.

He did have a valid point. You always looked forward to his days off. You’d always plan out the entire day. You don’t know how this one day slipped through the cracks in your brain, causing you to book something you needed.

“Please. Just for next month, only. After that you can pay rent for all the other months,” he begs.

When you let out a deep sign, Mat lets go of you and jumps excitedly. He throws his arms in the air, but then quickly wraps them around you, so he can carry you right back to bed. The whole time you’re giggling, happy that he’s just happy to be with you.

Yeah, you might get berated by your modeling agency for canceling last minute, but it was worth it- especially when you woke up from your first naked nap of the day to see Mat completely relaxed, hair standing in all directions and a slight pout on his lips. The sun highlighted his pale skin, making him appear angelic. His breathing even and soothing to your heart. Both in the same position you were in when you first woke up this morning. You pressed many kisses to the top of the shoulder that was closest to you, hoping to wake him up so he can return the affection. It made you giddy just thinking about sharing kisses with Mat.

These moments made it all worth it.

a/n: Another little idea I had! This takes place a little over a year into their relationship. Hope you all enjoy!

#mat barzal #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders #visceral in doses