#i just become so hyperaware of all the tiny little things that i feel like someone would negatively point out

[mxgyver]

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#cool! just got hit with a wave of sadness about my lack of experience in... everything! #like I know it shouldn't define me & there's no real timeline to do things #but when you're in your mid-20s watching everyone do things (even people younger than you) #really puts you in a place that's just... not fun #it shouldn't be embarrassing that i haven't really dated or kissed anyone yet here we fucking are! #'just put yourself out there!!' hi yeah easier said than done!! #i get so fucking insecure about myself when it comes to dating #the world is not kind to tall fat women #people love to say they love women like that but it feels like both of those things just get cancelled out for me #i have never felt desired the way i want to be in my entire life #i just become so hyperaware of all the tiny little things that i feel like someone would negatively point out #and it's just... fucks me up not gonna lie #i honestly think i might be pms-ing which is making this 1000000 times worse but like whatever #should i have just saved this for me therapist instead of tumblr? definitely #i'm just... going to cry a little bit more & then take a shower before watching the newest mando episode #sierra speaks #tbd #sierra being dramatic yet again

[lovebugism]

hi! reader doesn’t like kids at all, but somehow eddie’s child is just different and the cutest sweetest child who warms their heart

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ the beginning ]

summary: when steve harrington brings you as a plus-one to a munson birthday party, he forgets to tell you it's for eddie's four-year-old, maeve. (1.8k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, meet ugly-ish, fluff, girl dad eddie munson™, r is not used to being around kids (and it shows), baby blurb turned spin-off universe <3

When Steve Harrington invites you to a birthday party, he fails to mention it’s for a four-year-old. 

The tiny trailer is decked out in decoration. A fusion of black and rainbow, of bats and unicorns, of vampires and Tickle Me Elmo — like no one could land on a singular theme. 

Steve guides you into the home with a golden hand on the small of your back, his other clutching a sparkly black bag with Count von Count’s face on it. You stop very suddenly in your tracks. Happy 4th Birthday, Maeve! reads a handpainted sign draped beneath the ceiling.

You become very hyperaware of the whiskey bottle in your right hand, something you figured would be the most sufficient thing to gift someone you’d never met before. You just hadn’t expected the stranger to be a child.

“What the fuck, Steve?” you bite under your breath, glaring at the boy beside you. “I thought you said this was your friend’s birthday party?”

“Maeve is my friend,” he answers with a stupid shrug. “Though, to be fair, I did say it was my friend’s kid’s birthday party.”

He most definitely hadn’t.

“What the hell— I brought booze!”

“That’s okay,” assures a wild-haired boy with a pretty pink grin as he walks up to the two of you. The friend in question. 

Eddie Munson wears a silver ring on each finger and a thick leather jacket despite the warming spring season. His laughter sounds like sunshine. His smile is bright enough to give you a goddamn sunburn.

“Maeve’s been getting presents all day— It’s about time someone got somethin’ for me,” he jokes.

You grimace while the two boys laugh. “Sorry…” you murmur as you pass him the bottle, shrinking inside yourself in an attempt to hide from the moment. I’m never letting Steve convince me to leave the house again, you think to yourself.

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously. I’ll go stick this in the kitchen— Make yourself at home.”

Your racing heart quells only slightly. He must be more of a good guy than Steve made him out to be, if he’s willing to keep you around after you brought booze to his daughter’s party. Though, you’ll contend that you were only half at fault for this.

Steve bites back a chuckle as he walks you to the back door, standing with you on the little wooden deck lined with sparkly streamers. There’s a picnic table off in the distance, covered in a bat-patterned cloth and set with Sesame Street-themed utensils. A small crowd of teenagers gather around it, and a couple of their parents, you figure.

The spring breeze only half soothes your burning skin.

“See?” he lilts, trying not to laugh and failing. “He likes you already—”

You swat his chest with a less than kind hand. 

“Ow!”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Harrington, I swear to—”

“What’s your favorite animal?” a tiny voice asks from behind you, a smidge too loud and confusing their R’s with W’s.

You look over your shoulder, face flooded with horror. A kid with wild chocolate hair stands at less than half your height, wearing the tiniest Ozzy Osbourne shirt you’ve ever seen beneath a rainbow tutu. You don’t know what to say, so you just blink at it for a moment — at her.

“Hey, Maeve,” Steve greets with a curt wave.

The girl beams, missing her very front tooth. “Hi, Uncle Steve!”

“Wha— Huh?” you stammer mindlessly. ‘Cause you’re not exactly the best at talking to people your own age, let alone to children. They’re too honest. And too loud. And beyond still feeling like a kid yourself most days, you don’t have anything in common with them.

“What’s your favorite animal?” Maeve repeats in the same inflection, smiling until a dimple appears in her freckled cheek. “Mine’s a Hefflelump.”

“Hef… Hefflelump?” you echo quietly, only vaguely registering Steve’s laughter as he disappears through the screeching screen door, leaving you all alone. You’re definitely killing him for this.

“Yeah… From Winne the Pooh!” she says like it’s obvious.

“Oh… Okay…”

“What’s yours?”

You stumble over your words to find an answer. “Um… Uh… I don’t— I don’t know…”

“Everyone has a favorite animal,” she scoffs like some kinda critic with a speech impediment. She tilts her chin to her chest and peers up at you with a pair of doe eyes, so brown they’re almost black. You shift your weight on your feet, visibly uncomfortable beneath her unwavering stare.

“Maybe like a… A blobfish, or something?” you shrug.

Her tiny face screws in disgust. “Gross,” she spits.

You flinch. “What? Why is that gross?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, more defensive than you’d like to admit.

“They’re so ugly,” Maeve giggles.

“Why?” you squint. “‘Cause they look differently than we do?”

“No!” she laughs, loud and golden, just like her father. “’S ‘cause they’re so slimy.”

“Well— You— You’re slimy,” you stammer.

The wild-haired girl grins with all her baby teeth (well, besides the front one, anyway). “You’re slimy!” she echoes with a mischievous twinkle in her chocolate eyes.

The screen door squeals open again, the rusted hinges screeching in protest. “Who’s slimy?” a male voice questions from behind you, a smile audible in his voice.

“You are!” you and Maeve chorus at the same time. 

You whip your head around a second too late. Your heart drops to your ass when you find Eddie lingering in the doorway behind you. You stumble over your words while Maeve giggles. “Sorry! I thought— I thought you were Steve! I’m so sorry!”

A chuckle sputters from Eddie’s mouth. He’s nearly as grieved by it all as you are. “He just left,” he tells you with a lopsided smile, cocking his thumb over his shoulder. “I think he’s helping Wayne out front. They’re putting together Maeve’s d-o-l-l-h-o-u-s-e.”

His eyes flit upward as he tries hard to spell the word correctly. Upon your confused look, he says, “I can’t say it, or she’ll know what I’m talking about.”

“Right,” you nod.

Eddie crouches and holds his arms out for his daughter. Maeve’s tiny feet patter against the wooden deck as she rushes to him. He huffs at the weight of her — heavier than he remembers and getting bigger every day (which is weird ‘cause she was a newborn, like, a week ago). He grunts when he picks her up, propping her weight on his side.

“What were the two of you talkin’ about, then?”

“Blobfish!” she shouts with a beam.

Eddie breathes out a faint chuckle and turns to you. “She’s forcin’ you to pick a favorite animal, huh?” he wonders, then laughs a bit louder when you nod. “Yeah, she’s been doing that all day. It’s her new thing,” he says, nuzzling the tip of his nose into her curls. 

Realization seems to him then, and his brows furrow when he looks at you. His face, all twisted in confusion, is an exact replica of Maeve’s. 

“Wait— Your favorite animal is a blobfish?”

“That’s what I said!” the girl laughs.

You shift your weight on your feet and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m… feeling very judged in this moment…” you murmur under your breath, only half joking.

“I think that’s the most creative answer we’ve had yet, huh, Mae?” Eddie chuckles.

You scoff. “Well, I think Hefflelump’s pretty creative considering—”

The boy clears his throat, seeming to sense the rest of your sentence. His eyes widen in a lighthearted glare before he nods to the girl on his hip. Only then do you realize the words sitting on the tip of your tongue. You swallow them down immediately.

“Right…” you nod instead. “Nevermind…”

“Here—” Eddie huffs as he sets the girl down again. “—Go find Aunt Robin, alright? She’s probably decorating your cake as we speak.”

Maeve rushes off at the word cake, tottering on lanky, ungraceful legs. The two of you watch her go and linger in an awkward silence. Neither of you is quite sure how to make conversation without her there. You decide to start with an apology.

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry, by the way. Again,” you laugh awkwardly at yourself, scratching at the back of your neck. “I’m not… I’m not really… great with kids. If you couldn’t already tell.”

Eddie grins, pink and lopsided and pretty. You don’t feel deserving of the warmth swimming in his button eyes, glimmering beneath an early setting sun. “It’s okay. Seriously. You should’ve seen Robin and Steve the first time they met her— they were hopeless. And now they’re… Sort of alright, I guess.”

You force a faint chuckle. “Yeah, I’m— I’m just not used to being around them, I guess. I don’t even think I’ve talked to a kid her age since, like, elementary school.”

“I was the same way. ’Til I had Maeve and all…”

“Well, I couldn’t tell,” you assure him with a wavering smile. “You’re, like, a total pro. You’re great with her.”

He ducks his head to hide his blushing cheeks. The apples of them speckle warm and pink beneath the weight of your compliment. 

“Well… thank you,” he says, deflecting from your praise with that stupid, posh, D&D accent he always uses when he gets nervous. You don’t notice him grimacing at himself because you’re still stewing in your own embarrassment.

“And sorry for the booze, too. I seriously didn’t mean to bring— I mean, Steve didn’t even tell me that—”

“Stop apologizing,” Eddie chuckles warmly. “That part’s not your fault, alright? I don’t know if you know this or not, but your boyfriend’s a total idiot.”

Your face screws up. “Oh, he’s not— Steve’s not my boyfriend.”

The boy’s smile ebbs. “No?”

“No. No way!” you laugh before you mean to. “I’m pretty sure I’m just, like, his replacement best friend since Robin started dating Vickie.” 

Wide-eyed and distantly relieved, Eddie stammers like a teenage boy. “Oh. Right. That’s… That’s cool. Yeah.”

“Yeah…” you echo.

“Well, uh— I’m gonna see if Wayne wants any help,” he blurts despite knowing he’s been barred from doing handy work since he nearly drove a nail through his own finger. He just needs a way out, lest he keep stumbling over himself and lose all of his cool points with you. 

He saunters backward through the opened door and nearly trips over the frame.

You bite back a laugh. He forces a wavering smile. 

“But, um, I was thinkin’ about cracking open that bottle you brought. You know, after Maeve’s in bed and everything. If you— If you wanna hang around that long…”

The silence makes him as nervous as a teenage boy, all writhing and uncomfy in his skin. You nod in agreement, and his sparkling chest swells all over again. “Yeah,” you reply, lip quirked in a poorly hidden smile. “Sure. I’d— I’d like that…”

He smiles, all proud of himself. “Good. That’s… That’s good,” he stutters, then swallows hard and scurries off before you change your mind. 

Before he shuts the squealing screen door behind him, you hear Robin’s voice exclaim loudly from the kitchen. “What the hell’s a blobfish?!”

if u have any other ideas for hijinks these two idiots (and maeve) can get into, feel free to leave 'em here! (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #eddie and maeve

[sublimecatgalaxy]

can you write fluff alphabet with Robin Buckley pls?

I loved this.

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

I think that she'd definitely love to rent a movie from the video store on a day where she's not working, just so she can rub it in Steve and Keith's face that she has a stellar girlfriend.

Other than that, I think she'd really just wanna hang in instead of going out anywhere, she's definitely a homebody and appreciates the quiet days she spends with you.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

She admires that you trust her so much. With all of the weird stuff that happens and has happened in Hawkin's, you really just followed her lead and went with it, even without answers or explanations. She thinks that your trust in her and vice versa is the best part of your relationship.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

She'd definitely panic seeing you panic. She's the type of person who feels for another person when they're experiencing something terrible or frightening so I'm sure she wouldn't be that good at handling it in the beginning.

Eventually, she would grow accustomed to how you are and learn how to help you and comfort you the best she can.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Damn, she really just wants a few cats and you and a tiny little house. She wants to move far enough outside of Hawkins to be free from the hold it's had on her but she wants to stay close enough to Steve and the other friends she's made along the way.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

She's honestly the more out spoken one but not out of a place of control. She's good at not taking bullshit but she's not always the best at reading the room. But if someone was being rude to you or being ignorant, she'd put them in their place.

Saying that, she still does like when you order her food for her and help her make doctors appointments.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

She hated fighting. She was a firm believer that it doesn't get anyone anywhere and she'd much rather take the time to talk it out, and eventually come to an agreement. But, sometimes, you'd get into little arguments, bickering for a bit over something stupid.

She'd be the first one to apologize always, even if you know it's your fault.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

She's extremely grateful in a sense that she's grateful that you simply put up with her. That leads to her thanking you for anything and everything that you do even if it's expected from you or a simple task.

She's like hyperaware of everything you do.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Let's be honest, Robin sucks at lying so she would go above and beyond to tell you anything and everything she knows, just to make sure that she doesn't accidentally tell on herself and then start an argument.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

She would definitely become a bit more calm about life in general with you. You'd rub off on her in a good way and she'd definitely learn a thing or two about relaxing and living in the moment, even when she's not the best at it.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

She would feel jealousy but she'd go above and beyond to make sure that you know that she doesn't not trust you. She trusts you with her whole life but she didn't like when other people didn't respect that you were in a relationship, especially men.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Duh. I think Robin would've been practicing since puberty on her pillow so she's well prepared. Obviously it changes from person to person but I think she panicked about being a good kisser so she did as much research as possible to ensure that she'd be able to please you.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

It would be jumbled and messy. She really wouldn't know how else to do it other than spewing it out at the least convenient time. She would just end up rambling for a bit until you shut her up with a kiss and a heartfelt confession of your own.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Well, given the time in history, you'd just assume that you would just make your own marriage certificate and hang it up on the wall. I'm talking crayons and signatures on construction paper. It would be perfect for the both of you and after going out and buying some rings, it would be enough.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

She would come up with the CRAZIEST and SILLIEST nicknames of al time. Like she'd go above and beyond just to see you get blushy and bashful, or even playfully annoyed. She just loved to make you laugh but on a serious note, she liked to call you bub or bug, and playfully lover if she's teasing you.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

I think that Steve would notice first and then literally shove her in the direction of coming clean to you. He would use the 'well if you don't tell her, I will' threat and that would work pretty quick.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

She would sometimes forget that you guys were in public or around other people. Typically, she'd want to be well behaved and make sure you're comfortable but sometimes it's so hard to not kiss you and keep her hands off of you.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Robin doesn't have a mean bone in her body. She was never spiteful or passive aggressive towards you which leads to you guys having a very kind, non-confrontational relationship which just made being with each other so easy.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

I think she's an accidental romantic. She'd say something sweet and you'd fawn and she'd be thinking 'wait, what did I say again?'. You think that it's sweet that she's just so naturally, unintentionally sweet and kind.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

I think that, once Robin finds out that you want something or have a goal you want to achieve, she'd immediately be researching how she can help you and what she can do to get you there. Like she'd be obsessive about it.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

She likes a routine, especially since that ensures she can see you. She likes your sleepovers and she likes the specific places that you go out to dinner or lunch. Sometimes you'd come up with a new place and she'd panic a bit but then realize, as long as she's with you, she doesn't mind.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Robin is a bit too understanding.

Sometimes you'll say something and it might come off rude and you'll apologize and she'll genuinely have no idea why you're apologizing. She rarely ever takes offense to anything, even when she probably should lol.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

You're one of the most important people in her life. You, her and Steve used to be the three musketeers so you were already important to her, along with Steve. But loving you so much, being in love with you, it just solidifies her need for you in her life.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Robin would literally develop a liking for everything that you like. Like if you liked a certain food, she'd like it too. Your favorite movie? It's hers now too. You would just morph into the same human after a few months of being together.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

She's a very affectionate person but she can't always read the room. Sometimes she'd end up embarrassed after kissing you senselessly, forgetting you two were in the middle of the grocery store or mall. You'd just play it off and tell her you thought it was cute when she 'forgets her surroundings cuz she's too busy kissing you'.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

She's very needed so Robin would not cope well. Steve would be annoyed at all of the whining and pleading that would come from the freckled girl, complaining about missing you so much.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Any length. Assuming you and her were together during all of the Hawkin's drama, you both learned that you'd be willing to save each other's lives and put yourselves on the line for one another. There was nothing that you wouldn't do for each other.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr

#robin #robin buckley #robin x reader #robin buckley x reader #stranger things #stranger things fic

[theheightofdishonor]

this was not on the agenda but let's analyze some of the dialogue in 4x03 real fast

Stiles: Dude, what is going on with you? Scott: I don't know. I'm having a really off day. Stiles: Off day? You were dying out there! I feel actual physical pain watching you. Scott: I didn't see you make any shots. Stiles: Yes, that is because I'm terrible, though, Scott. You... You are the Alpha. Scott: Not on the field. I'm a human on the field. Stiles: Well, human you is kind of sucking at the moment. So do you think there is any way you can use just like a little tiny bit of wolf power? Scott: It's cheating. Stiles: I know it is! It's just I hate seeing this little freshman come in and steal all your glory after you worked your tushie off. I hate it. Scott: He's not going to steal all the glory. ----- Stiles: We still don't know if he's a werewolf, too. And if he is, he'd just be cheating. And we'd just be cheating the cheater. Scott: But he's not. I'd know. I'd be able to catch a scent or something. Stiles: Maybe you need to get closer. Scott: I think I'm about to get my chance.

So this takes place during the lacrosse tryouts. First thing to note, is it me or is Stiles playing devil's advocate more than usual? It might just be because Scott's listening to him more than usual but Stiles seems unusually persistent

Anyways, that first bit caught my attention because i'm always hyperaware when regarding the human/monster theme in teen wolf. Scott's firmly continues to maintain the boundary between his werewolf and human sides while Stiles vagues around the idea of "true alpha has to mean infallible" that later plays such a huge role in their s5 fight. It's interesting that he's telling Scott that it's unsightly for the Alpha to lose here and then pivots literally minutes later into assuring him that "[he's] still only human". Stiles is ever so quick to turn to whatever will benefit him in the moment.

Like, really look at that first exchange for a second. First Stiles tries concern which Scott brushes off. Then Stiles becomes more overtly critical but it's aggressive enough that Scott takes a shot back at him to which Stiles immediately tries to pacify him via self-depreciation/flattery. And when Scott rejects that, he tries to compromise- you don't have to go all out alpha werewolf, just a little bit's enough-and when it fails, changes to a commiserating sympathy, which with a little bit of well-timed remarks by Finstock, surprisingly does somewhat work. And Stiles immediately capitalizes when he feels Scott wavering by justifying the behavior and then re-framing it via 'if you just get close to scent him, it's not reallyyy using your powers, right'.

Scott's what is most interesting about this exchange though. Their entire conversation has a practiced air to it, as if Stiles suggesting things that Scott shoots down is a common enough occurance that Scott doesn't even need to really think about his responses, which is probably true. The convo actually reminded me a little of their first conversation in 1x01 when Stiles and Scott goes off in search for Laura's body and Scott's protesting even as he follows. The difference is that since their power dynamics have shifted (at first with Scott becoming a werewolf and then again when he becomes a True Alpha), Scott's been far less likely to grudgingly go along with Stile's schemes but he does so here, despite being against it.

This is where I dip into speculation but I think that the reason Scott's behaving so unusually is because the events of 3b-caught unawares by the nogitsune, aiden's death,allison bleeding out in his arms,isaac leaving- has made Scott less sure of his own judgement coming into s4 becuse he actually does something similar to this in 4x02 too where when Stiles initially suggests lying to Derek, Scott firmly rejects it but when the opportunity arises, he hesitates and then ends up lying to him in a move that even Stiles is surprised by. (the camera intentionally pans to stiles side eying scott and i can't help but wonder if that has anything to do with how persistent he is here)

#not me writing literally everything except the meta that im watching this season for #which tbf ive never been able to restrain myself from a tangent in my life so idk what we expected #teen wolf meta #well you can call it meta i call it my ability to tie literally everything in teen wolf to s5 #teen wolf #brotp: you're still only human #lowkey i always forget that this eps where that quote is from #because in the og meta i miscited it as being from 4x01 #which is also the reason that my internal timeline of early s4 is so distorted #because i keep thinking that this whole thing happens in the first ep when it actually takes place in ep 3 #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #turns out writing this actually tired me out lmao so yall will see the next one in a couple days #i didn't reread this imo

[jolynej]

I’m Not in Love

Summary: You and Prosciutto, both determined to keep things casual, are sent out on a mission to eliminate a target, but something goes wrong and you end up hurt, forcing Prosciutto to come to terms with his feelings

A/N: I started this weeks ago, but have been so busy that I haven’t had time to properly finish it until now! I’m a very slow writer, and I struggle with creating longer fics that exceed 1k words, so this was a huge labor of love! I hope that y’all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Warnings: heavily implied nsft, violence, guns, minor character death, blood, Prosciutto being a bit of an asshole, fainting

You both told each other when you made this arrangement that it was strictly physical and that you were only doing this out of convenience and carnal desire. Sure, he’s very attractive, and you’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about lingering in bed and pretending that you’re still asleep if only to savor his body heat and the weight of his arm across your torso for a few more minutes. But you couldn’t possibly cross that line.

The lives that both you led didn’t allow for the luxury of developing and maintaining romantic — or any, really — relationships that were outside of your work. You’d lost friends and family members to the steady passage of time and lack of communication. It came with the territory of the job, and though you’d tried to justify your drifting relationships by assuring yourself that it was done to protect those you used to hold close, you knew that was just an excuse you told yourself so that you could sleep at night.

The initial adjustment to your new job was tough in that aspect, but Prosciutto, aside from being your mentor, slowly became a comfort and a confidant for your bouts of anxiety and late night regrets of leaving your old life behind. You’d joined him outside at night on the balcony of the hideout plenty of times. He would self-soothe with cigarettes, exhaling out his demons in the shape of a puff of smoke whilst he listened to you reminisce on your happier, less bloody days.

“It’s a damn shame you’re so good at you job,” he’d told you one particular night, when the orange and white city lights below cast a bright glow over his sharp features; yet simultaneously, it accentuated the dark circles under his eyes, and the shadows beneath those jagged angles of his cheekbones and jawline made him look far older than he was. Prosciutto looked beautiful as he did horrible.

You just shook your head and smirked, inquiring, “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Kid, there were many different paths that you could’ve picked from,” He stops briefly to take a drag of his cigarette. “But this is what you opted for.” The blond flicked his cigarette and snuffed it with the toe of his oxfords, answering with, “All I’m saying is that you had your whole life ahead of you, and instead of getting a normal, decent job, you decided that this was worth the Louboutins and those diamond earrings of yours.”

“It’s good that it ended up working out for you.”

His compliments were usually pretty backhanded, but you could tell that this wasn’t just because of his usual condescending behavior. He seemed almost... sad and guilty, but then again, it could just be from the shadows on his face exaggerating his features.

“I’m glad you’re damn good at your job, too,” you remarked, leaning against the railing, savoring in the feeling of the warm, summer night wind caressing your face.

Soon, you found the touch against your cheeks was replaced by his calloused fingers and then his lips, giving birth to a routine that would continue every-so-often: you’d join him outside at night and would wake up in bed next to him in a tangle of limbs and satin sheets.

Maybe it was only natural that you and him would end up growing closer and more intimate.

—

This little arrangement between the two of you continues, and with each time you bare yourself to him, you struggle with your developing feelings. After you had slept together that first night — before you had a real chance to give yourself a proper chance to evaluate your own feelings — he assured you that the prior night’s events had meant nothing to him, that it was a mistake. He apologized, confessing that the rendezvous had stemmed from a place of pent up arousal and convenience and that it wouldn’t happen again.

That’s what he’d said the second, and third, time too. But by the fourth time, you’d both decided to become ‘coworkers with benefits’ as you’d so eloquently put it. It’s purely out of physical need and mutual trust and nothing else. There’s no time for romance.

—

The following spring, you were sent out together to a job on the coast, and were given a shared room at a hotel near the warehouse where your target was supposedly going to be tonight. The assignment had worked in your favor, you’d both arrive mid-morning, have time to scout out the location, go back to the room for a quick fuck, then proceed to the location, clean up, and spend the night between the sheets until you both passed out from sheer exhaustion.

“The target should be on location this evening,” he informs you casually as he’s sliding on his trousers, as if he hadn’t just fucked you into the mattress. He gives his watch a quick glance before speaking again. “Which gives us approximately an hour before we need to head out.”

You nod, reaching for your clothes — his hand stops you, grasping your wrist. “Let me clean you up first,” he says, briefly locking eyes with you, before averting his gaze just as quickly. “If you’re going out you should at least be comfortable.”

While Prosciutto walks off to the bathroom to retrieve a glass of water and a washcloth, you look down at your naked body. Your combined releases dribble down your thighs, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of the sticky, wet sensation on your lower body.

He’s back approximately a minute later, the glass is set upon the nightstand, and he’s kneeling, still shirtless, at your feet with the wet washcloth in hand. He cleans you up in relative silence, and the intimacy and vulnerability in this situation is not lost on either of you. It hangs around like a heavy fog that both of you desperately try to ignore, hoping that it’ll dissipate.

Under different circumstances, you’d love to be able to cradle his chin in your hand and confess every single romantic thought that you’d ever held for him, and in turn, he’d press tender kisses up your thighs, and trade the rag for his tongue, cleaning you up with a few slow licks. Instead, you give him a curt, ‘thank you’ and get dressed.

Your little trysts were littered with subtle, more domestic moments like this one where you wanted to push the boundary between what is and isn’t appropriate when you’re in a friends-with-benefits situation with your coworker. Even without the romance that you so desperately craved, there was still a strong sense of intimacy and familiarity with each ‘Was I too rough?’ or ‘You can sleep in here tonight’ that could only stem from a certain level of trust and comfort.

The rest of the time leading up to your assignment was spent going over your plan of attack and working out any loose ends or confusion on either side, and as he spoke, you couldn’t help but allow your eyes to travel down to his plush lips and the exposed patch of skin from his half-buttoned blouse that, when he shifted at a certain angle, allowed for you to catch a glimpse of a dark red bruise where your lips had been.

You were passing the threshold, the imaginary line. You’d stepped on it, gotten it stuck to your feet, and try as you may to deny its presence and scrub it clean from your skin — you could scrub it raw, until you bled — it wasn’t something you could erase.

As he’s stepping out of the hotel room, you glance back to ask him if he’s ready, but you’re caught off guard by the buttons of his shirt. They’re all closed completely save for a lone button rendering the bruise no longer visible. Inquisitively, the blond quirks up an eyebrow, silently asking if there’s a problem.

“I’m just ready to get this over with,” you sigh, matching your stride with his as you both exit the hotel and journey to the warehouse.

The target doesn’t show as planned, much to your and Prosciutto's dismay and annoyance. You had both searched the large building and its surroundings as thoroughly as possible but still the target hasn’t made an appearance. There aren’t even any hidden clues as to where he’s run off to. As pissed as you both felt in that moment — you were cursing to yourself and your partner was leaning against a metal structure with a cigarette in the corner of his mouth — Risotto was going to be absolutely furious.

Unlike most contracts where you were paid after the deed or half before and half after, the client had paid a hefty sum up front and with a dark leer he was insistent that the job be completed as soon as possible. Something deep within you knew that he would not be the type of man whose bad side you’d like to be on.

Defeated and angry, you both decided to bite the bullet and head back to the hotel to inform your superior of the unfortunate situation. Just outside of the hotel, Prosciutto glances over at a payphone on the street corner.

“Go on inside and shower and eat, kid, I’ll talk to Risotto.”

“Are you sure? We can speak to him together, or I can just sp—“ He cut you off with a hand patting your cheek, gently thumbing your skin. He was stressed and so were you.

“Don’t make me change my mind,” he manages a tiny half-smile. “I’ve got it.”

Yeah, you are stressed as all hell, but at least you didn’t have to be at the receiving end of Risotto’s wrath — for tonight anyway. Thinking about Prosciutto opting to do so in your stead and acting out of concern for you sends a cacophony of butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. He has always looked out for you ever since you’d joined, but this was something more than just him looking out for a junior member of his team. There was no way that he’d touch Formaggio or even Pesci like that, with such a pure tenderness that leaves your skin tingling from where his fingers were.

Making your way up the stairs to your shared room, the sensation of butterflies immediately flees from your stomach and instead, an eerie, insidious feeling begins to tiptoe up your spine, and you get the sense that something is very, very wrong.

One of the hall lights has gone out, and the other is flickering in random spasms as it emits a faint buzz. With each step towards your door, the broken light fixture seems to dim and buzz louder until it makes one final loud screech and dies completely the moment that you touch the door handle, and as soon as your fingers gripped the metal handle, an overpowering jolt of electricity fizzles throughout your entire body, sending you doubling over in pain, desperately croaking out for your stand as you fall to the dingy carpet.

The world around you seemed to morph into blackness and little snippets of sounds — you weren’t sure if you were still awake or if you’d lost consciousness — but you clung onto what you could decipher to the best of your ability. Static, the plodding footfall of someone running on carpet with urgency, the unmistakable click of a gun, a heavy thud, then silence.

You crane your head and espy a familiar pair of oxfords, and with a sigh of relief you feel your eyes grow heavy.

—

You come-to in the backseat of a car, and if it weren’t for the intensity of the events before you passed out, you would’ve happily shut your eyes to the steady thrum of the car speeding down the road. A bubble of panic rises up your throat, throwing your senses in overdrive as you carefully assess your surroundings. You find that a suit jacket has been draped over you like a makeshift blanket, and the familiar scent of cologne, tobacco, and cigarette-smoke is an instant relief.

Looking up, you find Prosciutto is in the driver’s seat of the car with a plain, white tank top in the place of his button-up. The bones of his knuckles are prominent due to the strain and force of his grip on the steering wheel, and they’re dotted with specks of red that extend up to his forearms.

There’s an evident scowl on his lips, which are scabbed and bloody from worrying teeth marks and not from — what you can safely assume given the sound you’d heard earlier — a gunshot to the man that had been in your hotel room.

“The target was dealt with,” he says upon seeing you awake, and he disguises it with a cough, but his entire face softens with a relieved sigh. The visible tension in his bulging veins on his forearms eases along with the death-grip that he has on the steering wheel; Prosciutto settles one hand on his thigh, splaying his fingers out on the fabric of his trousers, feeling for something in his pocket — cigarettes most likely. He’s still antsy and tense, alternating between his hands on the wheel to search his other pocket.

You have a myriad of questions wreaking havoc on your brain, which is still a bit fuzzy from the electricity and has brought on a dull headache. With the blazer clenched tightly to your chest, you fiddle around until you find a pack of his smokes and pull them out, holding them in the air with a dopey, lopsided grin that says ‘lookee here!’. It earns a playful eye roll and a smirk from Prosciutto who brings his hand back to take them from you.

When you offer the box up, your fingers brush, and you swear that he leaves his hand extended towards you a moment longer than necessary. The sensation sends a full-body chill through your veins.

“Put the coat on, kid, I don’t want you freezing up and getting sick in the car.” He’s staring straight out at the road, but you know the sentiment is there, beneath the layer of sweat and blood there’s worry. “Go back to sleep,” he orders in that gravelly, stern but caring tone of his that he uses on you when he gives you orders, and only you. In a way, it’s not that much different from how he talks in bed, and the familiarity has you warm all over. God, you’re in love with this man.

“I’ll wake you up in about an or two, capisce?”

—

You’re awoken by Prosciutto opening the door of the backseat and calling your name. You can barely see him, he’s almost a dark, looming figure in the night. The sky in the countryside is worlds away from the city skyline that you’re accustomed to. Behind him, there’s a sea of twinkling stars, and the bright crescent moon hangs proudly behind his head like a half-halo, and he appears to you like a fallen angel, still clinging on desperately to something good and holy that someone like him does not deserve. In his right hand, he holds a shovel, and his arms and face and tank top are caked in the weight of his sins, blood and dirt and sweat; you surmise that the closer you get to him, the less the moon resembles a halo and moreso a pair of horns. Again, the night is playing tricks on you.

“I’ve buried the remains,” he explains. “I decided it would be easiest to just take care of it myself until we can get you checked out. We don’t know the full extent of the damage that you’ve received or what effects that my stand could have on you in this state.” It’s a poor excuse, and you both know it, but it’s easier for him to lie to you when his facial expressions are harder to see.

Still, you don’t know if it’s from the adrenaline in your blood, your feelings for him, or some leftover electricity that’s done something to your brain, but you decide to call him out.

Sitting upright, you say, “I still could’ve helped, Prosci, otherwise there would be no point for me to come on this mission with you. You’ve done more than enough to help me, and I… I really appreciate everything that you’ve done to help me, but I have to work to earn my share of the payment!

“I can’t just lie back and let you treat me like some doll or damsel in distress!” You spout, wadding up his blazer and tossing it at him. He catches it with a growl, and the shovel clatters to the ground with a resounding clang.

He’s crawling across the backseat, hovering over you like a mangy beast; truthfully, you don’t think that you’ve ever seen him look so unhinged and disheveled. His scent bears no resemblance to the comforting aroma of his suit-jacket, and instead, he emits a pungent odor of grime and sweat, evident by the damp, dirty stray pieces of hair that encircle his face and the thin layer of earth that stains his skin with splotches of gray and brown. He looks like he can hurt you, and for a second you make the mistake of thinking that he will.

“Kid, you need to listen to me! I—“ he huffs, but upon seeing your face up close, all scared and doe-like, he kisses you. It’s emotional and hurried and needy and far unlike any previous kiss that you’d shared. It’s not spurred on by wanting or lust but by love and a great fear of loss.

“I love you,” he whispers like a gasp when he pulls apart from you. “I love you,” he says once more, softer, sweeter. “I love you.”

In his eyes, you can see every word that he leaves unsaid, his confession of how afraid he was that he’d never see you again, how he panicked and saw red and shot the man on sight, how he carried you to the car with a metaphorical knife stabbing at his heart, and how he almost cried from relief when he saw you open your eyes.

“I love you, too,” you say back, smiling, kissing him again with that same passion as before.

#prosciutto #prosciutto x reader #jjba x reader #la squadra x reader #tumblr formats things so weirdly! #jjba #my fics

[wordsturnintostories]

glitter for me ✨

summary: jungkook and Jimin, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g only it's in jungkook's bed, not a tree and jungkook can't get over how pretty his girlfriend is ✨ word count: 1.8k note: was originally meant to be part of a bts mafia au but who knows if that's ever gonna happen *angry side glance at brain* please enjoy this very very soft fluffy smut snippet instead ✨

Jimin can’t breathe when Jungkook finally kisses her. In her back, the pillows give way, in her chest, her heart opens up. He’s gentle, his fluffy black hair messily caressing Jimin’s temples. The way his lips brush over hers, the way his lips embrace hers, it’s like he’s kissing her soul because Jimin’s whole body tingles like she’s drinking that expensive prosecco from their last gala event. She giggles, and once it’s out, she can’t stop laughing, bathing in this happiness that spreads from her chest to Jungkook’s. He seems surprised, but smiles widely and presses his forehead against hers as he lies down on top of her, between her legs.

“Are you that happy?”

“Yes,” she giggles, softly and almost in a whisper, so that only Jungkook gets to share this magic with her.

He chuckles and has the grace to start brushing Jimin’s belly with his fingers. He feels the joy under her skin, the way her body trembles and can’t contain the happiness.

“You’re so cute,” he says, from the depths of his heart. He’s glad there are pillows under her head because Jimin is sinking back like she can’t hold herself steady while the bliss spreads through her. And he loves that - how her joy overtakes her, how it’s so genuine and so captivating.

She is. She makes his heart feel like a dying fire that is revived by her flames. Jungkook knows she’s not a spark, not a second-long indulgence, but a life-long energizer. The treasure of a lifetime.

“I adore you,” he whispers and watches Jimin lean forward. “If I kiss you again, will you laugh again?”

She grins.

“I don’t know. No one has ever kissed me twice and meant it.”

And when he stays still, letting those words penetrate his soul, sink in so they will never go away, her lips touch his earlobe. His eyes fall on her plush lips as she speaks.

“No one has ever made me laugh by kissing me either.”

As if he’s going through the same epiphany that she had before, he feels the euphoria spread through his body, through his heart and mind. He laughs, but more breathlessly than she had. And then she kisses his ear, licks along his earlobe like she can’t help acting like a cute little kitten, and Jungkook shivers.

“You’re so good to me,” he whispers, “I want to be good to you too.”

“You are,” she promises and lays back down, her soft hands still buried in the short hair in his nape. He revels in the sight for a couple of moments, hoping that he will never lose this memory. He lets their lips connect again and again, and blesses her with kisses along her neck, her jaw. He loves the way her eyes sparkle up to him, full of expectation, full of light and pure bliss.

“What would you do if you weren’t in the mafia like this?”

It’s a whispered question, a question that has potential to go much deeper, into a painful section of Jungkook’s life, so he dismisses it lightly. It doesn’t fit the situation, so he makes it fit. Nothing he can’t do for Jimin.

“I’d kiss you like this every night,” he breathes, feeling Jimin’s small hands tugging at his shirt as she listens, “and then, I’d make love to you. Gently.”

She blushes and Jungkook takes it as a reward. He likes to be smooth, a smooth criminal, but he’s a little surprised how only Jimin can make it feel like he’s a smooth lover. Full of adoration. Of genuine care.

“Why don’t you do it now?”

“I haven’t ever gone gentle. I’m not… supposed to. I don’t know if can do it right.”

It takes effort to be so truthful with her, but Jimin seems to understand. Her smile never leaves her face, her trust never wavers and Jungkook thinks he can see her soul right here, in his bed.

“I haven’t ever gone at all. Do you think we could both try something new tonight?”

“I think we could.”

The deal is settled with a deep, luxurious kiss that has Jimin licking her soft lips afterwards. He groans. That damn tongue. Those plush pink lips. The combination does things to him. He presses another kiss to her lips. A mischievous spark lights up Jimin’s eyes. Again, she licks her lips. Again, Jungkook kisses her. And again, Jimin decides to be a tease. Jungkook can’t help but growl at her.

“Stop licking your lips. You make me wanna kiss you all over. At this rate, I won’t be able to move on to the next thing.”

He feels the giddiness in Jimin. From one look to the smirk on her lips, it’s clear that it thrills the girl underneath him to find out what makes him tick.

“Why?”

He groans, taking in the sight of that little pink tongue reaching out to take another lick. Jimin giggles as he sends her raised eyebrow. He leans down, takes her chin in his hand as if to kiss her and against her lips, he mumbles, “take off my shirt.”

Jimin sends him a look that’s honestly illegal, Jungkook can feel it in his spine. When she laughs and her fingers finally brush against his abdomen, he has to swallow a moan. He almost chokes. It turns out it only gets worse from there, because when the cool air touches his back, his front, his sides, all of his skin is covered in tiny goosebumps and that’s the perfect playground for Jimin’s curious fingers. They travel here and there, exploring, especially mapping out his booming heart.

Suddenly, when her fingers travel across his lower back, Jungkook becomes hyperaware of how he’s still in between her legs. One little movement could give away his problem down there. He doesn’t want Jimin to find out yet, he wants to give her as much time as she needs to caress his body. She hasn’t done this before after all.

All of a sudden, there’s a hand on his wrist and before he can breathe, his back presses into the mattress and a weight comes to sit on top of him. Jimin, with a cocky little grin that actually makes her look incredibly cheeky and happy with herself, a look that’s downright sexy, sits right on his abdomen, only inches away from his groin. She looks like an emperor, a queen at her rightful place. Jungkook’s heart burns when he realizes that yes, that’s what he wants her to be. His queen, for when he finally ascends. Not anyone else, just Jimin.

“The view is great from here,” she proclaims innocently and Jungkook grins. He can’t say he’s ever had any sex with anyone that’s been so chill and open at the same time, but he absolutely loves to watch her bathe in this glorious moment. Heck, Jungkook realizes this is the most intimate he’s ever been with anyone. There’s nothing to see yet, with Jungkook only shirtless and Jimin fully clothed, but heck, he’d fight his best friends for intruding.

He lets Jimin do whatever she wants, but doesn’t stop himself from taking her braid into his hands and opening it. He revels at the smooth waves that fall from her head. Jimin is an unrivaled beauty. Her skin seems to glitter in the low light and Jimin’s pretty eyes widen with a laugh. When she shakes her head, it rains glitter.

It makes him chuckle.

“You never told me you’re a fairy.”

She playfully slaps his arm, her fingers coy in the way they lightly squeeze his biceps. Jungkook really doesn’t mind.

“Unbelievable, there’s still glitter in here… that’s all from yesterday! I thought I got everything in the shower…”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook smiles, “we’ll have glitter sex. I’m not too much of a manly man to be opposed to that.”

“Is that so?”

Jungkook feels a shiver building when Jimin whips out the teasing tone. He isn’t sure whether she notices, but as her voice becomes a little more husky, her tongue slips into Busan satoori. Jungkook groans. And Jimin notices, even raises an eyebrow. She inches back, just a little. Not enough to be suspicious but enough to be notice the bump in his pants. Her lips press against his ear again and Jungkook feels like dying when her tongue envelops his earlobe, subtly sucking it before she speaks.

“Is my Jungkookie enough of a manly man to take me, then? Because I really want him to and it would be a shame if-“

As good as Jimin’s honey-like voice feels pouring into his ear, the little bite under his ear has Jungkook over the edge. With a twist, Jimin is underneath him again, and this time, he doesn’t hesitate to press his groin against hers in one fluid motion. This time, it’s him biting on her earlobe. This time, the playing is over.

“Your Jungkookie is ready,” Jungkook whispers, completely blown away by how Jimin’s body reacts to him in shivers, “and he would like to take your clothes off.”

She just nods, big, glittery eyes always following his face as his hands work on her clothing. What waits underneath is paradise. Jungkook remembers that Hoseok had mentioned that Jimin was a dancer before she joined their gang. Her body is proof. Her body is heaven and Jungkook can’t breathe.

“You’re so cute,” Jimin whispers. “You look like you’ve never seen a woman’s body.”

Jungkook has. He’s seen many bodies, women’s, men’s, dead bodies, alive bodies, cheap bodies, expensive bodies. But none of them were bodies that he could fall in love with. He’s careful, careful not to attack, but to instead lave Jimin in sensual kisses and lush licks. He treats her until she’s moaning and shaking, and digging her fingers into his hair. He treats her until her eyes are overflowing with love. He wants her to remember this forever.

“You’re not a woman though. You’re a goddess,” he whispers and places a love bite right by her collarbone.

Jimin’s smile is dazzling.

Jungkook goes slow and with incredible attentiveness, to grant Jimin the greatest pleasure he can give. He manages to take her from the pain of entry to the ride of a lifetime, in and out, in and out, until she seeks rest in his arms. With a tired but grateful kiss, she falls asleep right on his chest, weighing nothing but filling Jungkook’s heart until it seems to burst. He’s never cuddled after sex, never deemed affections appropriate with how business-like these matters had always been before this, but with Jimin, there’s nothing more fitting, more perfect than to cuddle. With a smile, he notices all the glitter sticking to Jimin’s skin, making her look even more ethereal. It’s his privilege to lie with her like this, to receive her affections, Jungkook decides.

“I think I love you, Park Jimin,” he whispers and closes his eyes.

Jungkook doesn’t notice the glitter in his own hair, on his cheeks, on his throat. He falls asleep to the perfect image of Jimin in his arms.

masterlist | moodboard masterlist

tags: @xmagicxshopx, @taeshuworld, @justanemptydream, @hoodmeup, @gingerpeachtae, @captbbarnes  (wanna join? send me an ask!) ✨

#jeon jungkook #park jimin #jikook #fem!jimin #bts fic #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #bts fanfic #very very very soft smut #wholesome #fluff #wordsturnintostories #may 2021

[90slevi]

Loneliness {Levi Ackerman x Reader}

TW: a bit of gore? a LOT of angst, more of me venting lol

Levi ran his hands through his hair as he flopped down onto the old, crusty sofa.

It'd been a tough day for him and his squad, the group of them only just surviving as they frantically dodged a mass of titans and tried their best to weave through the pounding rain that was so heavy it almost left marks on the scarred bodies of the soldiers. Thank god the group had found a small, secluded cabin, or they might've frozen to death - if they hadn't been eaten first.

The number of people Levi had seen get mutilated in front of him in the past few hours alone was enough for the average person to see in a lifetime. For him, it should be normal. He should be used to it by now, maybe even desensitised, but every time he watched a person get split in half by the gaping jaws of a titan, it felt like a fresh, stinging wound on his skin. It was painful, yet all he could do was watch with his stern expression to hide the way he truly felt. To keep the confidence of his squad high.

Now, he and his crew were safe. Physically, maybe, but certainly not mentally.

Levi missed his wife. His head pounded in pain as the blood-stained bandages began to unravel and his headache increased, but all he wanted to do was think about her. He held her letters close, and he held the small oil-painting of the two of them close to his heart, something that'd been made by one of the higher-ups as a gift for Humanity's Strongest. The letter was one of the first things Y/n had written to him and the pretty yet smudged handwriting along with the cute curls of her Gs and Ys made his heart feel warm.

It'd been about a month since they'd both left Wall Sina to go on this extremely long, drawn-out expedition, and how much he cared about her was beginning to dwell on him. His heart and body ached, and he wished she was there with him to comfort his pains, even if he acted like he wasn't listening.

That was what Levi liked about her; she knew how much he cared about her without him needing to express himself. Something he wasn't... the best at.

Levi didn't realise his eyes were welling up with tears until he felt a small, fresh droplet appear on his upper cheek, and his eyelashes felt sticky. Quickly, he wiped it away with his sleeves, but it was unlikely anyone would see. Everyone was supposedly asleep, while he stayed up due to his unfortunate insomnia. Y/n was always there with him in their bed at home, someone he could hold onto while he tried his best to sleep. Her fingers running through his hair, leaving small little pats on his scalp, and tiny kisses on his forehead were all things he missed dreadfully, and he gulped a little as his heart pounded slightly.

Love was never really a thing Levi had believed in. He just went about his life, trying to survive and find a better life for humanity. But when he met Y/n, everything changed. Of course, he disliked her at first, just as he did with most people. Her bubbly, caring personality with too much sympathy and love for other people were things he, unfortunately, despised, mainly because they were things he seemed to lack. Yet... he couldn't help but be drawn to her, giving her extra chores such as cleaning his office and bringing him tea just so he could see her. Often he'd ask Y/n to help him with his paperwork so he had some sort of company, once even choosing her over Hanji to fetch him food.

He slowly began to realise over the months that it wasn't hatred he felt for Y/n. It was... fear. He was scared of loving someone, especially someone like her. Someone who was part of the Survey Corps, and someone who could die within a week and not have the chance to say goodbye. It hurt him way too much to love someone, yet he couldn't keep his feelings to himself.

When he found out she felt the same way, the two discussed their options. One being totally ridiculous and one being... more reasonable and sensible.

The first? Choosing to leave the Survey Corps and get married, far away from the life they'd been leading.

The second? Staying in the Survey Corps and going separate ways, never to speak of this again and to drop the feelings if they could.

But of course Y/n managed to merge the two together. Staying in the Survey Corps and getting married.

But... they were in different squads. While he led his own, Y/n was under Hanji, and he currently had no idea where her squad was or IF they'd even survived. They'd been seperated for three weeks now, and the questions that filled his mind felt like psychological torture. Levi tried his best to block that thought out of his head, not wanting to be plagued with the thoughts of his wife's death instead of focussing on the mission at hand. At that moment, he needed to prioritise his own Squad's safety, but he couldn't keep those thoughts at bay.

A sniffle escaped his nose as he felt his eyes well up again, and Levi had never felt so lonely. His free arm reached upwards as if he could magically touch fingers with Y/n and know she was okay, but it was pointless. His arm flopped back down as he tried to find a comfortable position on the absolutely awful-excuse of a sofa, but struggled. Crying was not a very-Levi thing to do, but at that moment? He just couldn't help himself.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he felt almost like a baby. He was not only upset about not having his wife near, but extremely embarrassed too. He was hyperaware that someone could see him, even though nobody was there, and he knew that as a captain, it was highly irresponsible to be sobbing like this. He'd only cried twice in front of Y/n; the first was when he thought she'd died, and the second was the aftermath of his original squad dying. If only she could see him now, looking pathetic and weak.

But he should've known she didn't think of him like that. Y/n knew him as the strongest person she'd ever met in her life and believed that crying was not a sign of weakness, but a sign of holding it in for too long. Holding in those negative emotions and putting on a strong facade only she could see through. Only a fool would think Levi was brave all the time, because even the strongest get scared.

"Fuck," Levi muttered shakily, noticing that one of his tears had merged two words together on one of the letters, creating an inky black blob. He placed the pieces of parchment onto the table beside him, making sure not to ruin them anymore, and balled his fists into his eyes to stop himself from crying anymore. He didn't want to feel this; he wanted to go home and spend the rest of his days with you, blissfully unaware that the titans even existed. Maybe he'd be a dad.

But no. The world just liked to cruelly torture him and watch him suffer. The world wanted him to watch everyone he ever knew die in front of him in ways he didn't want to experience. The world just wanted the worst for him, and he wondered what he'd ever done to deserve it.

When he heard a knock at the door of the cabin, he completely ignored it, not wanting to get up and answer. His eyes were red and puffy, while teardrops hung in his eyelashes. It was clear as day he'd been crying, and for some reason, it didn't exactly register in his mind that there was someone at the door until he heard footsteps.

"Captain Hanji!" a voice from downstairs exclaimed, one Levi recognised as Armin Arlert's. Levi almost shot up in his seat at that name, and his heart almost dropped to the pit of his stomach. He held his breath, the pain of not knowing whether his wife was alive or not becoming too much to bear. And now, he'd be told what'd happened to her. "It's so late, where have you been?"

"We took a detour," Hanji chuckled, and Levi groaned quietly at her poor taste in jokes. It was somewhere around 2am and everyone was filled with so much anxiety that it really wasn't the right time for her 'comedic expertise'. "No, we got ambushed by a ton of titans and we had to hideout in this abandoned castle until it was safe. We used the night to kill the ones that were resting before coming here."

"But we got lost," a male's voice said, and Levi heard Armin physically face-palm. The captain kicked his legs over the sofa and his ears pricked up, his heart racing against his chest for any sign of his wife. He was completely frozen in place, unable to leave the room and confront the group, never mind help them. Thank goodness Armin was there. "Hanji went way too far East instead of West."

"Hey! I was listening to your directions, Heinrich," Hanji sighed, and he heard the door close behind them as the whole group wandered inside. A few members of his own squad seemed to be leaving their temporary bedroom, greeting Hanji and the others with a fake display of delight. Not that they weren't happy to see Hanji's squad; they were delighted to know the group was alive and well. They were just... tired, and too mentally traumatised from that day alone to give a proper smile.

Footsteps echoed around the house to the point that Levi had no idea if people were coming up or going down the stairs, and he finally stood up when the door to his room opened...

And his heart skipped a beat.

Standing in the doorway was Y/n, her eyes swollen from tears and her wrist in a temporary bandage. Cuts and bruises littered her visible skin, and she dropped her cloak to the floor as she rushed over, flinging herself into her husband's arms. Levi fell backward onto the sofa, his eyes wide with surprise as the woman nuzzled her face into his neck and chest, unable to get enough of him. A strangled breath left her as she pressed a lingering kiss to his lips, and he returned it. His hands roamed her back, gently taking off her brown jacket and examining her broken wrist.

"Y/n," he said quietly, looking up at her as she straddled his legs, hugging him with her free arm. "What happened?"

"I went to rescue Lorena Engel and fractured my wrist in the process," she said softly, sitting up and wiping her eyes as she attempted to look him in the face. "She was grabbed by a titan and I went to slice at the wrong angle... it was purely an accident."

"I'm glad to see that other than that, you're okay," he said, a small, strained smile on his lips. It wasn't that he wasn't happy to see her. In fact, he was completely overjoyed to see his wife again. It was just... really difficult to smile at that point in time, and thankfully, she understood. Then, he wrapped his arms around her waist once more and held her tightly, his face against her chest as he listened to her racing heartbeat. Tears began to escape again, and when she noticed, she planted soft kisses across his head, her hands running through his hair just as he liked. "God, I missed you so fucking much."

"I missed you too," she answered, the goosebumps that'd prickled on her body due to the cold eventually disappearing. The dim candlelight in the room was barely exuding any heat, but the warmth from her husband was enough. Just Levi being there, safe and sound, was enough.

After a while, Levi's voice entered the silent room.

"Did everyone in your squad make it?" he asked, and it took a few moments for Y/n to reply.

"Everyone except Marcus Karsten" she whispered, choking slightly. "He... lost his life a week ago. What about... you?"

"Everyone made it," Levi answered, gently rubbing her back comfortingly. He wasn't best with words, so he made sure to make up for it with actions. She seemed to like that, anyway. "I'm... thankful for that."

"Yeah, that's good," Y/n said, a genuine smile on her lips. She was grateful his squad had no fatalities. They were a good bunch of kids, and she got along with most of them. "Levi, why is there a bandage on your head?

"Little accident," he answered, amused that she was worried about the little things. His injuries didn't matter to him, but to her they were incredibly important. "I misjudged where I was going and banged my head, but it's okay."

"It better be," she chuckled quietly, even the tiniest bit of laughter meaning the world to him. He hadn't heard it in so long that he hadn't realised how desperate he was for it. "Now, I can see those little eyebags creeping onto your face. You've barely slept."

"So?" he muttered, burying his face further into her chest. "What about it?"

"God, your stubborn," she sighed, ruffling his hair. "Now that I'm here, will you try your best to fall asleep?"

"But you've only just arrived-"

"So?" Y/n answered, teasing him and brushing his forehead with her thumb. She then planted another yet smaller kiss onto his lips, one Levi tried to push further into but was denied. "You'll be seeing me all day tomorrow. Just a couple hours rest won't do any harm."

Levi knew there was no winning against his wife. She was incredibly persistent when she wanted to be, so he sighed in annoyance before falling onto his back, lying on the sofa. She lay on top of him, his arms tight around her body as she snuggled into his shoulder. A tiny sigh of relief left his lungs and he took a deep breath in, filling his nose with her scent (and the unfortunate smell of dirt and blood, but he didn't care).

As happy as he could get, Levi eventually fell asleep, holding his dearly beloved in his arms.

#levi ackerman #attack on titan #levi #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot #anime #levi fanfiction #one-shot #angst #hurt/comfort #fluff and angst

[reinerispretty]

beneath the moon. (sokka x f!reader) pt13

hi hi :) i hope you guys are doing well!! thank u for your patience ily all!!

pt1

pt12

“Wow, Azula, you were right!” Exclaimed Ty Lee. “It is the Avatar!” She looked down at Sokka, a flirtatious smirk appearing on her lips. “And friends.”

Sokka waved back up at her and said hello, which only frustrated (Y/N) more. She took the water that she, Aang, and Katara had been bending with and sent ice daggers flying toward the three girls.

(Y/N) had always thought that the Northern Water Tribe was an impressive architectural feat. The intricate designs and layout of the city had always impressed her when she had the time to admire them. And as Princess of the North, she had had a lot of time. As much as she hated being trapped within its walls, she learned to appreciate it. But as she stood at the top of the Outer Wall of Ba Sing Se, she realized just how tiny her tribe was in comparison to the largest city in the Earth Kingdom. 

She leaned just over the edge, watching as the Fire Nation drill pounded into the stone wall. Toph groaned, slumping herself against (Y/N). “It’s kind of hard to see with all this drilling. I can feel every little thing they do!” 

“I’m sorry,” (Y/N) muttered, but her mind was elsewhere. Just a few steps away from her, Sokka, Katara, and Aang were trying to formulate a plan on how to take down the drill. (Y/N) had stepped away from the conversation. Ever since the night on the Serpent’s Pass, she had become hyperaware of Sokka’s presence near her. Every step closer, every friendly smile, had her heart practically beating out of her chest. 

She had realized it the next morning, after she had dreamt of Sokka. The sadness she had felt when she had walked out of her tent and saw Sokka smiling at Suki the way he had smiled at (Y/N) in her dream was a confirmation. (Y/N) liked Sokka, in a more than friends way, and she was jealous of Suki. Both feelings made her feel sick to her stomach, so she had resolved to shove them down as far into herself as possible and try her best never to acknowledge them again. If she thought too much about it, she’d realize how horrible she was for liking the same boy her very own sister was in love with. 

(Y/N) clenched her hands so tightly against the wall that the stone dug rivets into her skin. Had been in love with. Sokka had been Yue’s. Now he was Suki’s. And (Y/N) would respect that and keep herself as far away from him as possible. 

Members of the Terra Team that had attempted to attack the drill were being brought back up the Outer Wall by the dozens, each one moaning and groaning on stretchers and as their comrades carried them. (Y/N) cast a glance at Katara, who gave her a nod, and the both of them went to work to heal the men. (Y/N) liked the relationship that she and Katara had developed over the last few months. Very few words needed to be exchanged between them in order to understand how the other was feeling. It was similar to the relationship she had had with Yue, and it made her heart swell and ache at the same time.

Where Katara was gentle and kind as she healed, (Y/N) preferred to remain silent. It allowed her to focus all of her energy on healing their bodies. She left each man that she healed with a tight-lipped smile before moving onto the next. 

“You’re really a Master Healer, huh?” Sokka asked, kneeling down beside her. Despite herself, (Y/N) jumped, becoming increasingly aware of just how close the two of them were. She felt like she could feel the heat radiating off of his body. 

“I’ve done it all my life.” She tried to inflect her tone in a way that signaled that she didn’t want to talk, but Sokka was not very good at taking hints. 

“I remember Katara mentioning that, when we were back at your tribe. She said you taught her some of what she knows.” (Y/N) ignored him and stood, moving on to the next man. He groaned in protest as she began healing, but eventually relaxed into slumber. “Yue used to say that you were the most talented healer in your tribe.” 

At the mention of her sister’s name, she flinched. Yue was someone she rarely talked about anymore. She resided in (Y/N’s) mind constantly, sitting beside her thoughts of Sokka. “Yue wasn’t a bender, she didn’t know what she was talking about.” (Y/N) moved again and was grateful to find that Sokka didn’t follow her. 

Their team reconvened when Katara called them over to a soldier. “His chi was blocked,” She said, her eyebrow raised. She turned back to the soldier. “The girl who did this to you, her name is Ty Lee. She doesn’t look very dangerous, but she knows the human body and its weak points. It’s like she takes you down from the inside.” 

“That’s it!” Sokka exclaimed. “That’s how we’re going to take down the drill.” 

“By hitting its pressure points!” The excited smile on Toph’s face spread to (Y/N). Finally, they had a means of attack. They traveled down to the base of the wall, where Toph earthbended a hole. One by one, they dropped down, until they were completely encased in darkness. (Y/N) felt her heartbeat race, both from the adrenaline coursing through her body and the nervousness of being trapped in such a confined space. She felt Katara’s hand reach back and give hers a tight squeeze, and for a moment, (Y/N) felt calm. 

Light opened up around them and Sokka noticed an opening in the underbelly of the drill. “There!” He shouted, and Aang airbended his way into the hole before grabbing Katara, (Y/N), and Sokka. “Toph, come on!”

“No way, I can’t see in that thing!” Toph shouted back. “I’ll try to stop it from out here.” Satisfied with her answer, the group of four stood to formulate their plan. 

“I need to see the schematics of this machine,” Sokka said. “That way we’ll know what areas we need to target first.” 

“Where will we get those? I doubt they just have a huge map lying around with circles drawn around the pressure points,” (Y/N) said. Sokka shook his head. 

“You’re right, but...” He moved to the wall and knocked one of the pipes loose with his boomerang. The other three stared at him in shock as mist started to fill the room. 

“What are you doing! You’re gonna get us caught!” 

“Exactly! When something breaks on the machine--” Sokka started. 

“Then someone who knows what to do will come to fix it!” His sister finished. 

Taking down the mechanic was easy work. Katara froze him, while Sokka stole his plans and then they all ran. They reached the part of the drill where the inner and outer shell met. It was held together by thick, metal beams. “I really wish metal could be bent,” (Y/N) said sadly as they stared up at the towering braces. 

“It’s going to take us a while to cut through these.” Sokka stared at the plans once more. 

“Who’s ‘us’?” Katara asked. “We’re going to have to do all the work.” She gestured to herself, Aang, and (Y/N). 

“You three are the waterbending guys, I’m the making plans guy,” Sokka said, turning his nose up into the air. 

Despite having three waterbenders, cutting through the metal was proving to be more difficult than they expected. Eventually, they decided to only weaken the beams and Aang would go outside to deliver the final blow. Everything was going to plan until Katara was narrowly stabbed by a small dagger. 

Exasperated, (Y/N) looked above to find the culprits. The team of three girls that had chased them through the night and had driven them all nearly insane balanced on the supports above them. Fire Nation Princess Azula looked menacing as she stared down at their group, but her partner Mai looked apathetic and Ty Lee looked genuinely excited to see them. 

“Wow, Azula, you were right!” Exclaimed Ty Lee. “It is the Avatar!” She looked down at Sokka, a flirtatious smirk appearing on her lips. “And friends.” 

Sokka waved back up at her and said hello, which only frustrated (Y/N) more. She took the water that she, Aang, and Katara had been bending with and sent ice daggers flying toward the three girls. Ty Lee jumped to the side just in time, and used her acrobatic skills to launch herself at Aang. He blew her away with a gust of air, giving him and his friends enough time to escape. 

They ran down the halls, not entirely sure which way they were going but knowing they needed to put as much distance between them and their enemies  as quickly as possible. They stopped at an intersection. “You guys get out of here,” Aang instructed. “I know what I need to do!” 

“Wait, you’ll need this more than I do!” Katara tossed Aang her satchel of water. (Y/N) thought for a split second of giving her own water supply to Aang, but decided against it. Their group parted ways, and the three Water Tribe children searched for an exit. 

As (Y/N) rounded the corner, the sleeve of her dress caught on the wall. Confused, she turned around and found that one of Mai’s daggers had planted her sleeve deep into the wall. Prying it out would take too much time and the fabric was far too thick for it to tear away easily, but she could hear the increasing footsteps of the two Fire Nation girls and the decreasing footsteps of her friends.  

She gripped the dagger and yanked hard on it. Since her dominant hand was caught, she struggled immensely to loosen it. She could see Mai and Ty Lee at the end of the hallway now, running toward her. (Y/N) had to think and she had to think quickly. 

Looking up, she saw the exposed pipes that ran throughout the ship. She wasn’t sure if she could do it, but for only a moment, she closed her eyes and focused. With one hand, she opened her palm up to the ceiling, then curled her fingers into a fist. 

The pipes exploded with a sharp hiss! and filled the hall with hot steam. (Y/N) felt the water droplets burn her skin, but she bit her lip to keep herself quiet. Mai and Ty Lee were Fire Nation, they should be able to handle the heat, but there was no way they would be able to see until the steam dissipated. (Y/N) finally freed herself from Mai’s dagger and threw it back at the two girls before shielding her face with her arms and running headfirst into the dark steam. 

Sokka and Katara had completely disappeared, most likely not noticing she wasn’t at their side. (Y/N) stopped for a moment and looked down at the vast halls of the drill to see if she found any familiarity at all. She couldn’t recognize anything, but she did see a ladder leading up to a hatch. With no other options other than getting caught, she climbed up and found herself standing on top of the drill. 

Dust kicked up around the drill, interrupting her sight once again. She wasn’t quite sure which end was the right one, but she took a chance and ran ahead of herself. When she reached the end of the drill farthest from the Outer Wall and saw the mixture of water and earth pouring out onto the ground underneath them. For her own sake, she hoped it was something she could bend. 

She ran off the edge and plummeted down into the sludge. She was able to waterbend it just enough to slide down it and jump safely to the ground. Her landing was less than satisfactory, as she skidded directly into a giant puddle of sludge. 

“(Y/N)!” Katara exclaimed, wiping her own sludge off of her body. “Thank goodness you’re okay! We didn’t know where you went!” 

“One of Mai’s daggers caught my clothes,” She explained, rising to her feet. Sokka stared at her, concern apparent on his tanned face. (Y/N) felt her face flush and she turned away. 

“I need your help waterbending this slime back into the drill. If we build up enough pressure, it’ll blow.” (Y/N) nodded. She and Katara took the exact same stance, and their bodies moved as one as they waterbended. Toph joined them later to aid on the earth front, and eventually the team successfully disabled the drill. 

After the retreat of the Fire Nation, (Y/N) and her friends returned to the wall, all in desperate need of a long bath. “The Earth King is making arrangements for your stay,” one of the soldiers informed them. “It should be ready before nightfall.” 

“Thank goodness,” (Y/N) breathed. “I feel like a walking pile of dirt.” 

“That’s how I feel all the time!” Toph said, nudging her with her elbow. “Doesn’t it feel nice?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes and took a seat on the cool stone as they waited for their amenities to be taken care of. 

Sokka sat beside her, his own body caked with a layer of mud. It stuck to his clothes and arms, traveling up his neck and onto his face. (Y/N) resisted the urge to wipe the mud from his cheek. “I’m sorry we left you,” Sokka said. “We didn’t notice until Mai and Ty Lee were gaining on us.” 

“It’s alright,” (Y/N) said. What she wanted to say was that it wasn’t alright. She hated being forgotten about, even during life-threatening circumstances. She felt like she had back in the Northern Water Tribe. Like no one cared about her as much as she did about them. 

Sokka grabbed her hand in hers, causing (Y/N’s) eyes to flutter to his accusingly. “I really am sorry,” He said with such gentleness that she worried that she had said everything she was thinking out loud. “You’re a member of this team and our friend. It’s not like us to leave friends behind. I’m sorry we got separated.” 

(Y/N) stared at him for a moment, at the blue eyes that were burned into the backs of her eyelids every time she tried to sleep. She snatched her hand away from his, the skin he touched buzzing intensely. “It’s fine,” She insisted, before walking away to join Katara and Aang in their conversation. She knew she wasn’t being fair to Sokka, but life had never been fair.

---

Tag List!

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#writing #fanfiction #atla #sokka x reader #sokka #aang x reader #aang #katara #toph #suki #zuko x reader #zuko #iroh #azula #azula x reader #avatar #the last airbender

[valhallasubstitute]

Oh the Things I Would Do

Finan x reader

Prompt #13 & #19 - ‘there was only one bed’, ‘their friends make a bet about you’

The chemistry between you and Finan is palpable but your friends grow tired of it when you get a little handsy at the alehouse. A bet is made. Unable to relive your tension as you share a tiny, single bed with Finan you think about all the things you’re unable to do. Those thirty pieces of silver better be worth it…

A/N: Would recommend listening to Talk by Hozier while reading

WARNINGS: smutty but like not explicit

Wc: 1181

Tags: @flowers-in-your-hayr

You wanted Finan.

You had him there, within reach and dressed in next to nothing, body begging to be touched.

And yet, you couldn’t have him.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 The bet had been a simple one, its conception innocent and ale fueled just like any other bastard’s.

You and your friends had been sat in the alehouse in Winchester, laughter and shouts filling the air as the five of you filled your bellies with watered down alcohol. You sat next to Finan, his hand planted firmly on your thigh and through out the night it had climbed further and further North.

It really wasn’t your fault that Osferth noticed and credit to the baby monk, he didn’t out you immediately, simply rolled his eyes as Finan made you gasp. But that was enough for Uhtred’s interest to peak and your actions exposed. None of the men would risk getting kicked out of the alehouse, their only reprise in the constant war of politics. Finan was no different so his hand had only brushed against where you wanted him most, a silent promise of more.  

Not that any of your friends believed either of you. Jokes and jabs being thrown your way as you shook your head, light-hearted accusations of jealousy your only defence.

That was how it had started. You decided to leave then, the ale wasn’t to your liking and you were eager to rest after such a long day. You placed a lingering kiss on Finan’s lips and bid the others goodnight.

The bet had been made gradually, a few coins tossed here and there, promises of jugs of ale and more but ultimately it was Uhtred who said it outright.

‘I am willing to bet thirty pieces of silver that you can’t go one night without humping her.’

Finan had scoffed while the others had laughed but he took his Lord’s hand in his and shook it regardless. He had spent nights with you where all you had done was talked, laughed until you cried and then cried until you laughed. There had been nights where he held you flush to his chest, the touch of your skin soothing rather than exciting. He was convinced that the thirty pieces of silver were his as he walked back to your shared room.

That was until he saw you.

You heard him curse under his breath and the sound brought a smile to your lips.  You watched him rake is his eyes over you, his breaths becoming more frequent, deeper before he finally let out a loud sigh.

‘I’ve got thirty silver pieces for us.’ The look on his face gave him away, his inner conflict obvious as he fiddled with the cross around his neck. You sat up, pulling the sheets around your body and patting the space next to you.

‘Mmh, what’s the catch?’

‘We can’t have sex.’

Your stare became blank, watching as Finan’s look turn sheepish.

‘What?’

‘All we have to do is lay down next to each other and go to sleep. It’ll be easy.’ He walked around the small room, removing his boots and armour as he went.

‘You’ve been teasing me since the sun came up and now you want to share this tiny, single bed and just…sleep?’

The Irishman shrugged, ‘I want to prove them wrong.’ He blew out the candle with a grin and as the bed dipped you could feel his eyes on you once more. ‘And besides, think of tomorrow night.’

The two of you lay side by side in the darkness. The silence was heavy and only disturbed by soft breaths. The sound was comforting at first, but when it didn’t fade into gentle snores and twitching limbs it slowly drove you mad.

To you, Finan was like the flame that threatened to burn the whole house down, when you fell into bed with him you knew you’d be left as a wreck. You were hyperaware of the fact now; you could practically scream with want.

You could feel the heart of Finan’s body, and you were consumed by his scent and you knew that he just as conscious of you. You cursed at God and at the others, the thought of them angering you beyond justification.

As the heat of anger faded you focused on the breath of your lover and soon the memory of his hands burned everything else from existence.

Your mind drifted to the last time you had found yourself under Finan the Agile and heat spread across you body.

His lips had scorched your neck, open mouthed kisses and sharp teeth grazing your pulse.

You had moaned as he travelled south, the night being filled with sounds of pleasure and praise.

Your fingers had threaded through his hair and tugged – a plea silenced with a growl. He had nipped and sucked marks from your neck to your thighs, the purple only beginning to fade now.

His eyes had looked black, the usually warm brown spiralling into a whirl of blown out lust.

He had pushed into you with a call of your name and a bruising grip on your hips.

The thought of it had you pressing your hand to your mouth, muffling the gasp that slipped from your lips. Finan stirred next to you, your arm had brushed against his and you knew he felt the sparks too.

It took every fibre of your being not to look at him. To look at him would acknowledge everything you wanted you wanted to do to him in that moment, and oh the things you would do.

The image played out in your head as you lay perfectly still.

You would turn on your side, letting your fingers ghost over your Irishman’s forearm. You’d smile at his inhale of breath and let your touch linger, then spread.

You’d trail your hands over his chest, feel the beating of his heart and the rumble of protest, but the words would falter with the quickening of his pulse.  

You would turn to face him completely then, watch his eyes consume you and his jaw flex with restrain, with want.

‘You’ll do well to stop that Y/N.’ Your breath stopped, Finan’s voice was strained, filling the room with sound and doubling your desire.

‘Stop what?’ The words were whispered, and your voice sounded hoarse even to your own ears.

‘You know what, vixen.’

The linen of the bed was soft, you turned with a sigh and buried yourself further into the sheets. Sleep drifted away from you like ashes in the wind, the fire in your belly ever burning like the sun that seemingly refused to rise.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You awoke to the sounds of birds chirping yet the sky was still a grey blue. Finan’s hand was the next thing you became aware of was Finan’s hand, creeping slowly, just as it had done the night before, towards the apex of your thighs.

‘How badly do you want that silver?’ You could feel him smile into the crook of your neck.

‘Not half as badly as I want you.’

#the last kingdom fanfic #tlk fanfic #finan #finan the agile #finan x reader #finan the agile x reader #100 followers celebration #finan smut #inga writes

[catboymingi]

pretty boy

navi/masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: fluff with some slightly angsty short moments; best friends to lovers

word count: 3.7k

warnings: slight language warning, a teeny tiny bit suggestive once if you squint, but it never gets hot or steamy

if you’d known that calling mingi ‘pretty boy’ would finally make him make a move you’d done it much earlier

cuddling mingi was one of your favourite pastimes, had been ever since you got over the weird awkwardness that had been around when you first became close enough to hug each other but not yet comfortable enough to not wonder if it was weird that sixteen-year-old platonic friends were hugging each other. you’d met him when you transferred to his school at age sixteen and he’d taken it upon himself to make sure you didn’t feel excluded, forcibly making you befriend him - you’d really had no choice, he would come up to you daily, tell you about his day and try to make you feel welcome - and once you had befriended him forcibly making you befriend his friends, too. it had been awkward at first because you didn’t have any “best friends since kindergarten” stories, so you were hyperaware of the impression you would leave if you were to be more touchy than a hello and a goodbye hug.

that awkwardness had first subsided during a movie night with the boys, where mingi, stupid as he was, had suggested a horror movie so he could protect you, but in the end he’d begged you to not go home yet because he was scared the killer that was without a doubt waiting for his next victim outside was going to kill you if you stepped foot out of his apartment, because unlike his friends you’d refused to get a taxi, had insisted that you lived close enough to just walk, and you’d agreed to stay for a little longer so he’d feel better, thinking that it was only the post-movie anxiety that would subside in at most an hour. you’d ended up staying the entire night, though, because your friend had refused to let you go home even after that hour, and it was then you realised that he was actually scared. so you’d agreed to stay the night, thinking you’d be sleeping on the couch - which you did -, by yourself - which you didn’t, because a certain peach-haired giant had crawled into your arms after maybe twelve minutes (he’d counted, and decided that upwards of ten minutes was enough time to try to fall asleep by yourself) and you’d ended up having to protect him rather than vice versa.

you were kind of grateful for this, because it had gotten rid of the awkwardness of it all, and after that first time of cuddling you’d been much less shy about physical affection, and it was due to this that mingi got upgraded from friend to best friend.

that had been three years now, the house where you’d cuddled with him for the first time only still being a cuddle location if his parents invited both of you over from the dorms you now lived in to stay a night because they missed you, instead both of your dorm rooms had become the preferred locations.

this was where you were now, too, being spooned by your big best friend as he was slowly waking up. you’d been awake a little longer already, usually an incredibly early riser so your body made you wake up at six in the morning by yourself, but you hadn’t wanted to bother mingi so you’d just dozed on and off until he’d be waking up, too. to your dismay, though, he was shuffling behind you, and you felt a small issue against your backside. technically, you knew morning wood was a thing, and you knew mingi was definitely way too sleepy right now to be feeling anything other than the innocent desire to cuddle and sleep some more, so you didn’t think too much about any potential hidden meaning behind it. he’d never tried to make a move, and because you’d first gotten to know each other after both of you had already halfway been through puberty you were pretty certain that if he did want to make a move he would, simply because there was no decade-long friendship to ruin. it wouldn’t be awkward if he’d see you as a potential partner rather than the kid he grew up with, because he hadn’t grown up with you. so you were convinced it didn’t actually mean anything to him. you knew for a fact that this didn’t mean anything suggestive. but untechnically it certainly didn’t help the embarrassing crush you had on him, nor did the proximity to his warm, bare chest, because it was summer and summer meant shirtless mingi and shorts and a tank top for you rather than the soft fleece pyjamas you opted for when the weather started getting worse.

“sorry”, he mumbled against you as he, too, realised his problem, calmly and completely free of embarrassment after that first time he’d woken up like this and had near pushed you off the bed in an attempt to hide the fact that a part of him was just a horny teen, unaware of the fact that you’d realised that about five minutes before he did because you’d been awake for ages. in order to avoid being actually kicked off the bed in the future you’d told him that you didn’t care, and he’d slowly become less embarrassed because this was just how his body worked, not something he could control. 

“don’t worry”, you mumbled back, shifting around in his hold now that you knew he was awake so you could face him.

“how’d you sleep?”

“not long enough”, he groaned, his deep voice a little whiny as he told you about how it had taken him what felt like years to fall asleep.

“sleep some more”, you suggested, turning around again so you were now on your back and looking at him as you patted your shoulder, “come here.”

you didn’t have to tell him twice, his messy bedhead hair tickling your chin a little as he adjusted himself on the spot between your shoulder and your chest, his favourite cuddle position even though he’d never admit it.

“wake me up latest when it’s lunch time”, he ordered before he closed his eyes, nuzzling into your side some more for ultimate comfort as he let himself drift back to sleep, as confirmed by the fact that he’d apparently neglected to fully close his mouth, so you felt a teeny tiny wet spot on your shirt after a few minutes of him drooling on you. not that you minded, though, you thought it was endearing how the big, scary mingi was such a baby sometimes. it only made your embarrassing crush grow bigger, the comfortableness of it all, how natural it felt. he looked really pretty like this, too, pretty and absolutely adorable, as you saw when you wanted to play on your phone to pass the time, catching sight of his reflection in the black screen before you unlocked it, and because you were an idiot and couldn’t stop yourself you took a picture of him, where he was laying on your chest with his mouth slightly agape and sleeping peacefully.

sleeping peacefully until your phone made an uncharacteristically loud ‘click!’ sound, making you realise that you must have turned up the system sounds rather than your media in your sleepy haze the night before, but it was too late to change anything as mingi first grumbled, then shifted around, and then he lifted his head with the intention to look at you, but your phone screen was a more interesting sight, he decided, his embarrassing drooling face on full display.

“delete that!”, he whined while he tried to grab your phone, but sadly you had the advantage of being on your back so you could hold it out of reach, and he was still too sleepy to fight you for the phone. he would definitely do that later, though.

“no”, you refused, turning off your phone with the one hand you had available so he wouldn’t be able to delete it for you even if he did manage to steal your phone, because he’d need the pin code first.

“why should i delete that? i have lots of pictures of you.”

“yeah, but you just took that one so you can forever blackmail me about how stupid i look.”

mingi was genuinely convinced that was why. never in a thousand years had it occurred to him that you’d think he was cute, that you’d think he looked good even when his hair wasn’t slicked back but messily standing in all directions, even when his face was puffy and his tired eyes even smaller than usual. he was convinced he looked stupid, and he was convinced you’d use that picture to get him to buy you mcdonald’s at three in the night when it was freezing outside so obviously you couldn’t go yourself but would have no issue sending him out into the merciless cold.

“you don’t look stupid though!”, you insisted, having to stop yourself before you burst out an embarrassing compliment that might make things really awkward.

“i do! just look at my idiot expression, i look like a total imbecile.”

“you look pretty, shut up.”

there it was. the compliment you’d tried to keep yourself from cooing at him ever since you first caught sight of his adorably pouty sleeping face. and of course he wouldn’t just let it slip, either, his own embarrassing crush raising its hopeful head.

“pretty?”, though he masked the giddiness he felt with a teasing tone as he propped himself up on his elbows to look at you with a forced mischievous expression, one he wore to keep himself from smiling like an idiot.

“pretty.”

you’d have to just play along, act like it was a plain fact rather than you being way more in love with him than a best friend should be, so you continued: “now shut up about looking stupid, pretty boy.”

and if you hadn’t been so embarrassed yourself you would most definitely have noticed how much this affected him before he started stammering, because he blushed all the way up to the tips of his ears, leaving him looking a little more tan than he already was, skin a mix of a warm brown and a slight sunburn-adjacent red from the blood rushing to his face.

“pre- pretty boy?”

while you’d intended to play it cool that was impossible now he was staring at you in shock, seemingly entirely taken aback by the nickname.

“sorry”, you apologised, thinking he was upset rather than incredibly flustered and hopeful and happy, thinking now you’d most definitely made things weird.

“why are you apologising?”

“that was weird. kind of out of place”, avoiding his eyes as you spoke because you didn’t want to see him make fun of you for being weird and apparently incredibly whipped for him, as you expected he’d do. not even out of malice, he just sometimes didn’t immediately realise when a situation was serious for you, or rather how serious it was so he’d crack a joke or tease you - though he’d always apologise profusely once he realised his joking or teasing had hurt you.

“it wasn’t. just didn’t expect you to think i’m pretty when i was looking like a doofus. or like, at all.”

because he was insecure about his looks, genuinely, especially when you’d seen him so many times where he’d looked like an absolute mess, crying his eyes out over tangled, or ketchup or whipped cream all over his face because he’d wanted to convince you he could fit some random food into his mouth in its entirety, lots of situations he’d found himself overthinking later and that he found himself wanting to kick himself in the ass about for probably having made you think that he just knew how to sell himself in public but was actually average-looking at best.

“who says you can’t be a doofus and pretty at once though?”, something you were only able to say because your need to make him stop self deprecating was stronger than your embarrassment about complimenting him the way you were doing now.

“i say”, he informed you, still not able to believe that you genuinely thought he was pretty even when he wasn’t trying to be.

“and i say you’re pretty. if i have to pick just one then you’re a pretty boy and not a doofus.”

by now it was impossible for him to act cool when he was embarrassed like this, so his head landed face first in the pillow next to you, hiding himself from you because he didn’t want to have you see that he was a lovestruck idiot getting way more affected by what he assumed to be a silly nickname than he should be. though forcefully slamming his face into the bed wasn’t exactly a cool, unbothered guy’s behaviour either.

and “sorry” you apologised again, scared with every new sentence you said that that one would be the one to overdo it.

mingi just groaned into the pillow, annoyed with himself that even now he couldn’t get himself to say anything at all to in the very least hint at that he liked you, but you interpreted the groan as a reaction aimed towards what you’d said, insecurity and regret taking over as you realised that you were a fucking idiot and that you’d have to leave right now if you didn’t want to ruin your friendship. so you shuffled in the bed, sat up and were about to leave the bed when your best friend’s hand shot out to grab your wrist and keep you there with him, surprising both you and him.

and he surprised both of you even more when, once he’d seen the insecure, no, scared expression on your face, he pulled you back into the bed by the wrist, making you fall more than you were voluntarily laying down, and then he propped himself up from where he was on his side and now facing you who’d landed on your side too, shifting to turn you to your back so he could keep himself up on his elbows with his upper body hovering over you, caged by one of his arms on either side of your torso.

the surprise became unmatched when he finally made the move he’d been wanting to make for at least two years now, crashing his lips onto yours not exactly carefully because he was scared his bravery would leave him if he didn’t act immediately and fast, but his whole demeanour softened after a few seconds when you still hadn’t made any attempt to push him away, hoping that keeping himself up on one arm would work, that the strength in this one arm would be enough to keep his upper body from crushing you as the other moved to your head with the intention to cup your face, but got distracted by how soft the hair was that was spread out on the pillow, so instead he was twirling it around his finger.

if he could he wouldn’t ever have moved away, simply because the situation was one he’d wanted for so long, but his arm - the one that was carrying his entire weight - started hurting and threatened to give in, so he had to roll himself off of you, laying on his back so he wouldn’t have to see whatever expression of rejection or, even worse, disgust might be on your face.

“sorry”, it was his turn to apologise, closing his eyes just in case, really not wanting to see the exact moment you’d tell him he’d just fucked up your friendship.

“sorry”, you said, too, though you weren’t even sure why you were apologising, and your apology confused him as well, so he asked: “why are you apologising?”

“i don’t know. why are you?”

“i feel like i just messed up really bad”, he admitted, his face still turned towards the ceiling, heart beating rapidly and he didn’t know whether it was adrenaline or anxiety.

“we can pretend that didn’t happen if you regret it”, you offered, though your heart hurt at the suggestion. you didn’t want to pretend that hadn’t happened. you wanted to do it again.

“do you regret it?”, mingi asked after he’d rolled to his side because now he wanted to see your face, even if it would hurt. he wanted to see if you were lying.

“no”, you told him quietly, “i’m just scared that maybe i should. i kind of regret not regretting it because i’m scared now things will be weird because i don’t regret it but you do. i don’t know.”

you knew that maybe you should have lied to him, pretend to regret it, but you didn’t want to. part of you was glad it was finally out, even if it would mean that now your friendship was ruined. you were glad you didn’t have to keep pretending that all the nights you spent cuddled up to him, all the times he’d hold your hands and blow on them to warm them up in winter, all those cute things didn’t mean anything more to you than just that he was your best friend. in a way, you were glad the slight emotional torture you found yourself in whenever he was acting particularly sweet was finally over. even if only because he wouldn’t be acting sweet with you anymore.

“i don’t regret it”, voice quiet and serious, his eyes looking straight into yours to let you know that he was serious.

“so you’d…”

you weren’t able to finish the sentence immediately, trying to gather the courage to ask what your heart longed to ask.

“you’d do it again?”

it seemed impossible that the cocky girl that had just called him pretty boy earlier as if it was the most natural thing was the same girl that was now shyly asking him if he’d kiss her again, but she was. you were shy because now you couldn’t play it off as joking anymore, and that made it harder. he could break your heart right here if he wanted to.

but he didn’t want to. he didn’t want to answer, either, opting to pull you closer with a soft hand on the back of your head so he could reach your lips again, kissing you once more to show that yes, he would.

“do you regret it now?”, mingi asked you insecurely when he pulled away the second time, scared that now he’d crossed a line he shouldn’t have crossed, but you shook your head, and finally you admitted your feelings.

“i’ve kind of been in love with you for a while anyway. i don’t know how long, but i realised that one time during summer break when you tried to shove an entire ball of ice cream into your mouth that i probably fell for you along the way. so it’s kind of something i’ve wanted since then.”

your best friend was surprised by this, because that meant you’d realised just shortly after he’d had to stop himself from kissing you that one time you jokingly puckered your lips at him to tease him, something that only got harder to resist the more time went on.

“me too”, he admitted, and then he started rambling out of… not embarrassment, but a strong feeling of being vulnerable and the resulting desire to shift the focus away from being on his emotions only.

“with you, i mean. and not since then, kind of a little longer, but you’ve always just acted friendly so i didn’t want to ruin it. being your friend is better than not even being anything, so i didn’t want to risk anything. it was fine, i was happy to be your friend, i would’ve just maybe been happier to be your boyfriend, or-”

then he covered his mouth with his hand as realisation of what he’d just said hit him, embarrassment taking over once more, along with the fear of rejection.

“would you still be happier now?”, with a mixture of insecurity and curiosity in your voice as your beautiful, shining eyes looked straight into his wide open ones.

“uh, i mean, yeah, i would, but it’s fine”, he stuttered, unsure of what to say. was it really that easy? though maybe making you almost leave, kissing you without even asking if you wanted him to, both of you fearing that the friendship was irreparably ruined before you two struggled out a confession that might maybe lead to you dating wasn’t exactly the easiest, if you really thought about it.

“i’d be happier if you were, too.”

“i can be. should i be?”

and when you hummed “mhm”, as much of a yes as you could get yourself to voice right now because you were still a little scared all of this was one long, sick joke, he felt like he might explode with happiness.

“but then i want to set that picture as my phone background”, you added. “please. i’ll delete it if you really want me to, though”, although the thought of that made you sad because you thought it was so cute and domestic, and it would forever remind you of this moment and how you’d finally started dating mingi after years of what turned out to be mutual pining.

and he saw the frown, the small pout on your face as you told him you’d delete it, noticed the way your voice got that watery tone it always got when you were really sad but pretending not to be, and he knew that even if he did really, really want you to delete it he’d never be able to make himself tell you that. not when your lip was quivering slightly, a sure sign that you would burst out crying any moment if he didn’t tell you it was okay immediately.

“keep it. but not your lock screen, please, let me keep some of my dignity.”

the trembling of your lip stopped, the little lines on your forehead smoothed out as you stopped frowning, and mingi let out an inaudible relieved sigh. emergency avoided.

then, because he was still thinking about what you’d said earlier, the thing that had made him get his hopes up enough to finally make that damned first move, he asked you: “you really think i’m pretty?”

“probably the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen. and now you’re my boyfriend”, in awe as if you still couldn’t believe it. neither could he, to be honest.

and now he was your boyfriend.

#ateez #atiny #mingi #song mingi #seonghwa #hongjoong #yunho #yeosang #san #wooyoung #jongho #ateez x reader #mingi x reader #mingi content #ateez content #mingi fluff #mingi angst #mingi fanfiction #mingi imagines #mingi scenarios #mingi timestamps #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez fanfiction #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez timestamps

[amazingdriverfics]

Hello! I have another request in mind: instead of Rey being captured by Kylo like in interrogation scene in the Force Awakens, it's his best friend from when they were training as Jedi with Luke Skywalker. She's with the Resistance and he's with the First Order. They're supposed to be enemies but after all this time, they still love each other. And Kylo, pleads her to join him and she does because she's never felt at home with the Resistance even though Poe was her friend. Kylo was her home and she loves him. I hope this is okay!

A/N: hey love, I hope you are doing alright. I’m really sorry that it took me so long to get it done, but I wanted for it to be good even if it meant having to wait a bit longer to post. 

I hope you enjoy it very much, I wrote with love, thank you for your support and request. 

Warnings: mentions of fight and death (they are very short)

My masterlist

Your heart is racing, it almost feels like it is about to explode off of your chest, the anxiety pumping in your veins is enough to distract you from the discomfort your body is experiencing, to forget that you can barely move attached on a metallic surface with your hands and legs restrained, to completely erase from your mind that you are covered in ashes and dried tears from all the chaos you had seen a couple of hours ago. None of that matters when you know you are finally going to meet Kylo Ren and very likely meet your death at the other end of the red lightsaber you watched kill so many not too long ago. 

The man doesn’t come for a long time anyway and you think to yourself that the time he is taking might just be torture itself, you are hyperaware of the enviroment you are in - a dark room with nothing but a lamp and you - as well as the things going outside, every sound makes you want to cry and evey tiny movement you can see through the small space under the door makes your heart skip a beat. You try to calm yourself as Master Luke had thought you many years before, but it was impossible, every time you tried to focus on your breathing patterns some noise got in the way, to make things worse one of the cuffs keeping you on the metallic surface doesn’t allow you to use the force, leaving you defenceless to face Kylo Ren. 

Nonetheless, you decide to give meditation one last try, if the dark knight was such a good force user as the rumours said, you would need all the focus you could possibly find to keep him off of your memories, to protect Poe and the Resistance. You try to focus only on your breathing, inhaling and exhaling loudly so you could hopefully drown the other sounds and you allow yourself for the first time to start accessing your body, imagining the oxygen you inhaled going through your bloodstream and getting to every single cell, filling them with life. 

When you feel like you are finally managing to calm yourself down, you listen to the door opening and you instantly open your eyes. The first thing you see is a tall black figure using a lifeless mask that had been haunting your thoughts ever since you got captured by the stormtroopers, the second thing you see is the lightsaber on his belt and it makes you swallow dry, all the calmness you had been trying to find vanishing and turning into fear. 

You watch as he walks towards you with long and insecure strides and it shocks you. Of everything you imagined Kylo Ren to be like - a monster, a soulless creature, a sadist - insecure definitely wasn’t on the list. His behavior however fills you up with a courage you had left in the spot you were captured. 

As he gets closer you allow your instincts to take control, your mouth moving before you could possibly think that it wasn’t the wisest decision. “You aren’t going to get anything from me, you might as well kill me now, monster”. 

You wait for a answer that doesn’t come, all Kylo Ren does is stop near the surface you are restrained on and all you can hear is the mechanic sound of breathing coming from his stupid mask as you turn your head towards it, ready to challenge the man once again. 

“And take this disgusting thing off your face, I don’t talk to cowards in masks”.

Much to your surprise, you don’t feel excruciating pain, but you watch as his gloved hands travel to the sides of his helmet, the next thing you listen is the sound of pressured air leaving the inside of it. When you finally see his face, your heart beats faster, but, this time, for all the wrong reasons. 

——————————————————————————

“Come y/n, the water is amazing” Ben yells at you, the most perfect smile adorning his features. 

You run towards the lake in your underwear as your eyes focus on Ben, you watch as his soaked dark hair touches his face, and water droplets fall on his face and on his torso, the sight making your heart skip beats, he was truly the most beautiful being you had ever laid eyes on. 

Stars, you loved Ben Solo with every atom in your body.

——————————————————————————

“Ben” you whisper, eyes filling with tears as you remember yourself of all you lived with him. You knew he had disappeared after the Jedi Temple burned, you had even mourned Ben, believing you would never see the man that you loved for so long again, your true home and family, your soulmate. “What happened to you?” you ask trying to reach for him, going against your better judgment. 

He sighs as you look into his dark eyes, trying to figure out the emotion behind it, something you could do so easily when you were younger, but now that barely knew him anymore  it proved to be an incredibly hard task. 

“Luke tried to kill me” he confesses and you don’t know what shocks you the most, hearing the sound of his deep voice years later the last time you saw him or finding out that one of the man you looked up to the most as you grew older tried to murder Ben, his neffew, the sweet boy you fell for and the boy who had gone through hell as he tried to discover himself. 

“Oh Ben, why didn’t you tell me? When did it happen?” As you talk to Ben, you forget you are stuck in a table and that you are his prisoner, not his lover.

He closes his eyes and his hands into fists before answering you. 

“That night when I burned the temple” he says before pausing, his eyes watching your every reaction as you assimilate that it was your Ben who burned the temple, not any Sith or Snoke himself, but Ben. “And no matter how much it hurt me to leave you behind, I just couldn’t bring myself to take you with me into the Order, into Snoke’s hand, I needed you to stay alive”. 

His words make you cry, make you sob, all your discoveries becoming overwhelming, seeing Ben alive after mourning him all too much. Before you can even process it, his gloved hand is in your cheek, caressing your skin lightly as a way to soothe your ache and you know you should hate him, you know he was supposed to be your enemy, but as you feel his touch once again, you fell like the little girl who fell for Ben Solo.

“You can’t imagine how much I missed you, little one” he confesses, his hand not leaving your face. All of a sudden you feel as your restraints open, your body almost escaping the surface until Ben holds you with the force, slowly allowing you to get your feet on the ground. “Now that you’re here with me again, I don’t know if I could ever let you go again”. 

As the words leave his mouth, Ben gets up walking towards you, his hand that just left your face travels to your waist, his eyes filled with so much emotion looking directly into your teary ones. You know you should say no, that you should say that your home is with the Resistance, that you could never be with an Order so evil and destructive, but it would be all a lie. Your home was with Ben, it always had been and it always would be, you always loved him and you were sure that you would never ever stop loving him, no matter how much Poe tried to make you feel included at the Resistance, there was nothing in the Galaxy that could make you feel like Ben.

“Join me” he pleads and it doesn’t take you two seconds before whispering a ‘yes’ and nod, your face leaning towards his, your lips searching for his. 

When your lips meet his and your tongues finally touch his, it feels like fireworks explode in your body, almost like time stands still, like the whole Universe was watching as two soulmates find their way back to each other again. 

As the two of you part and you look into your eyes you whisper: “You’ll always be my home, Ben”.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x you #kylo x reader #kylo ren x reader #kylo x you #ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo x you #request #adam driver #star wars #lovinghufflepuffgirl

[elindae-writes]

Ok, this is all about your headcanons. Is Starscream the oldest/youngest/middle member of his trine? Did he get his trine before or after losing Skyfire? During his time in the Decepticons? How did he meet his trinemates? Was there a cool ceremony? Just tell me everything about Seekers! (Without major spoilers, of course.)

He’s the youngest and he trined Skywarp and Thundercracker after he lost Skyfire and also after he first met Megatron. So they were officially in a trine before they joined the Decepticons. He convinced them to join the ‘Cons and without spoiling too much now bitterly regrets roping them into joining Megatron.

The scenes in which he meets the boys and trines them are going to appear later on, maybe during the Orion Pax arc, so I don’t want to spoil those, but I will gladly indulge your request for cool Seeker facts.

Seekers think in three dimensions and not two due to them being flyers and always having to ascend/descend. This is part of the reason they are so claustrophobic, it’s because they are highly attuned to sensing what’s above them at all times and are therefore hyperaware of when the ceiling is too low.

In Seekercant the word for “grounder” is just “taxi-er” because whenever airplanes are about to take off they taxi around first, so Seekers basically just see grounders as wingless bots who taxi everywhere without taking off.

Seekers are unusual in that they see their alt-modes as their true natural forms and think of their bipedal root-modes as their actual alternate modes. This is weird even by flyer standards.

Seekers used to go on giant migrations. I haven’t entirely thought this out because I’m not sure where they’d actually migrate to--maybe they’d just all instinctively fly up and around Vos without leaving the city, or maybe they’d go off and visit ancient older nesting sites built by ancient Seekers. Either way I just like the imagery of thousands of Seekers blackening the skies with their numbers and then the sad image of Starscream trying to complete a grand Seeker migration all by himself because there is no one else left. But someone still needs to follow the ancient winds, so it’s gotta be him.

Starscream is tiny by Seeker standards and Dreadwing and Skyquake are actually more average-sized. It’s also my headcanon his RID frame used to be his old frame, so when Megs downsized him he got fussy about it because he genuinely felt like a bit of his Seeker heritage got taken away.

There were a bunch of different towers in Vos and they all had their own slightly different cultures. Seekers from one tower would whistle and chirp in Seekercant in slightly different tones than Seekers from another tower, like the way whales from different pods have their own unique dialects. Starscream’s fellow Seekers from his tower were infamous for speaking real fancy-like, I don’t know why but I just picture them as speaking in weirdly complex, vague, and mystical ways like the elves from the Lord of the Rings. Despite there being hundreds of different dialects each Seeker is capable of instinctively recognizing the dialect you’re speaking and can just tell what tower you’re from. There was also a Seeker equivalent of Australia somewhere in Vos and it was completely full of weird and intense Cybertronian animals, it was just like that one weird tower where all of the odd little drones and robots ended up. I just like the idea of Vosian Australian memes.

Starscream was from a really high-ranking family, aka the equivalent of Seeker nobility, and was maybe in line to become or at the very least is closely related to the Winglord. That’s why it was such a scandal when he got the heck out of Dodge and decided to abandon his proud noble military family so that he could go blow stuff up in a lab in Iacon.

Shuttles have their own culture, but are weirdly symbiotic with Seekers. I just like the imagery of throngs of tiny Seekers who wandered around their towers with the occasional giant shuttle just lumbering through. Shuttles adopted Seekers and vice versa. Seekers were extremely touchy about whoever adopts baby Seekerlings and shuttles were the only non-Seekers who were allowed to adopt them. When Starscream moved out of Vos and got himself a roommate in Iacon his family was like “who?? who is dwelling with you, I refuse to allow you to have a non-Seeker roommate, we’d much rather have you dwell alone then dirty yourself by living with an Iaconian--”

And then Starscream just sent over a picture of Skyfire and then his family just said  “we will make an exception for him because he looks very polite”

Seekers were infamous across Cybertronian for being--I’m not sure if this is the right word--cryptids? They hate using doors, so if you’re a grounder and your Seeker buddy is bopping by for a visit you’ll just hear a soft tap tap tap by your window and you’dlllook over and see your winged friend waiting for you to open it up and maybe you’d shout something along the lines of “THE DOOR WORKS FINE”

And then your Seeker friend would just flare his wings and get all offended and it would be a whole thing--

Seekers very rarely make non-Seeker friends, but when they do they tend to make friendships for life. That is not foreshadowing, no, not at all. Non-fliers back on Cybertron would even leave their windows unlocked for their Seeker friends--even though the door would work just fine.

Another weird thing about Seekers is that they hate it when people actually see them entering or exiting a room. You’ll just turn around and a Seeker will be there, and then suddenly they won’t be, hence their cryptic reputation around Cybertron. They are infamous for being overdramatic and theatrical, but they just think of everybody else as being underdramatic.

They have no concept of personal space when in bipedal mode. When flying they normally have to fly wide apart in order to avoid collisions (military trines or just trines that are really in-synch are the exception, they normally flew only a few inches apart) so when in bipedal mode they make up for the lack of physical contact during flying by skooching up real close to each other when back on the ground. Seekers are very very good at forming neat and orderly lines. They have a tendency to sandwich confused and surprised grounders who are shocked to have their personal space so suddenly taken up by a bunch of pairs of wings.

Back when Vos was intact there was a big debate going on as to the proper way to teach your Seekerling to fly. There were two schools of thought:

Send your Seekerling to a school with safety nets and attentive instructors and teach the Seekerlings to just hover, then ascend three feet off the ground, then five feet, and then so on.

Or just chuck your Seekerling out of a tower 10,000 feet in the air while shouting “fLAP” and then just hoping for the best. That was how Starscream was taught. It’s also how he taught Eradicons to fly. He’d have them walk up to the edge, he’d go behind and just give them a good kick, and then shout “THIS IS THE VOSIAN WAY”

And then they’d return to the deck of the Nemesis, cold and shaking, and ask “why?”

And then Starscream would whisper back even more gently “it’s  t r a d i t i o n”

Whenever Seekerlings were really really tiny, as in only a few weeks or months old, the adult Seekers would transform, then also have their Seekerling transform into a very smol plane, and then they would secure the Seekerling to their back before taking flight. It’s like when that Boeing jet carried space shuttle Endeavour around, but much cuter. Seekers carried their newsparks around on their backs between their wings and their wings would widen in order to create more room. You can actually tell if a Seeker has tended to newsparks by just looking at their back. Starscream babysitted a lot, so he has this modification. I just like the idea of Seekers walking around like possums with like six Seekerlings on their back, they gotta make room, it’s the only way I could think of to accomodate all the kiddos

Seekerlings are like newborn horses. They can get up and run--or in their case, transform and fly--right after being sparked. The moment their systems go online they then immediately fly off and crash somewhere. Seekerling caretakers had it rough.

Seekers had potlucks. Their systems require very fine and refined energon, so they are very good at tasting subtle flavors. In other words, Vos was home to the Cybertronian version of professional chefs. Their energon was famous for being gourmet and it would be served in fine-dining restaurants throughout the rest of Cybertron. But back in Vos they’d just casually serve each other what was essentially gourmet energon during potlucks like it was no big deal. Like imagine going to the neighbor’s potluck and they’re all eating caviar.

Seekers instinctively cluster around each other in multiples of three. Three’s a very a lucky number in their culture and they had a base-six counting system.

Trinebonds are mostly just full of a very intense and platonic brother love, but there were some trines in which you’d have two Seekers adopt a more parental role towards the third, and in some other trines there would be more romance involved, but for the most part they were just bros through and through.

When a Seeker dies the other two feel an agonizing pain, but will eventually re-trine with a new third in an attempt to feel whole again. Seekers who lose both trinemates will tend to have a full-on mental breakdown and will get so stressed that their spark will actually begin to flare erratically, which unfortunately prevents them from re-trining. Seekers who lost both trinemates and yet who managed to pull through the pain and trine again were treated with great respect.

Trined Seekers are capable of sensing what kind of vague mood their two buddies are feeling at any given time. They can detect when their trinemates are in root-mode or alt-mode or when they’re healthy or sick. Seekers will lose the ability to sense their trinebonds when there’s too much distance between them or whenever their trinemates go into a deep coma-like stasis that slows their spark down.

All of the Seekers in a tower would be almost always all distantly related. The Seekers who lived beneath you were your distant cousins on one side of your family and the Seekers who lived above you were your even more distant cousins but like 53 times removed, but still family and therefore still invited to the family potluck!! They’re all like hobbits in that they are obsessed with genealogy and will gladly talk about it for hours on end. Seekers will greet each other by explaining their genealogy. This really confuses grounders.

Some random grounder: “Oh, hi, how are you?”

Starscream, probably: “I AM STARSCREAM SON OF STARFLIGHT SON OF SKYECHO SON OF AIRHALO SON OF SWIFTWING--”

The poor grounder: *softly* “What the fuck”

If you don’t interrupt the Seeker then they will just keep recounting their genealogy on the assumption that you are actually intrigued. This can go for hours. Seekers are mortified when they learn that grounders do not know the names, personalities, likes, dislikes, and favorite childhood snacks of their distant great-great-great-great-great grandfathers.

Orphaned Seekers who didn’t know their genealogy had multiple options: get adopted, then just list off the adopted family’s bloodline, or if they didn’t get adopted then they’d just list off the names of Vos’s mythological heroes and figures, or maybe even just claim Primus as their ancestor (which isn’t even wrong.) This is kind of like how people in ancient times claimed to be descended from gods. The human equivalent of this would be some dude walking up to you and saying “I am Bob, son of Zeus!”

Some Seeker towers had certain naming conventions. Like you’d have one tower full of Seekers who are all named after cloud formations, and another tower full of Seekers named after noises, like “whistle” or “blast,” and you guessed it--maybe even “scream.”

To be honest I’m not sure if I want Starscream to be a very common or very rare name. Vos was made up of ancient warring clans that all united under the first Winglord (he/she took Vos under their “wing” hence the title) and maybe they could’ve been named Starscream? In most human societies everybody and their neighbor always would want to name their kiddos after the current ruler, but in Vos maybe it was very rare and very bold of Seekers to name their child after the current ruler because it would be seen as an attempt to snatch up that ruler’s glory. So to name your Seekerling Starscream would be the Vosian equivalent of naming your son Gaius Julius Caesar. He’s an intense bot so it makes sense that he’d also have a very intense name.

But then again I also like the idea of the Autobots just thinking of Starscream’s name as being weird and rich and odd and  e x o t i c  but then finding out it’s the Vosian equivalent of John Smith and that there were eight Starscreams on any block at any given time.

Maybe Seekers would change their name whenever they have a big event happen to them, like a trining for example. I think a culture obsessed around airflow would be fine with people changing aspects of their identity like that because then you’re being like the wind, flowing and changing with the same wind that carries you. It’s also my headcanon that this is why Seekers change their frames a lot more. Your frame isn’t you, it contains you, and if you change then it would be really weird not to change the way you look too. 

Despite being really lax about some things Seekers can be very very strict and traditional about other things, such as etiquette. If you’re meeting a new Seeker for the first time and you rotate your wings 70 degrees clockwise that means “may the skies of the holy 70th tower of Vos bless you” but if you rotate your wings anti-clockwise it means “I curse your grandfather!” And then Starscream would just gasp in horror and then shout “DO NOT BESMIRCH THE MEMORY OF SKYECHO”

Some Seeker names were common--like, too common. There were a few thousand Skyechoes, Windblasts, and Driftwings who drifted around at any given moment. This made role-call in school very painful. Some caretakers would try to be edgy about it. “Oh, my son isn’t named Driftwing, he’s named Dreadwing!”

Seekers cremated their dead but in the most intense way possible. They took their dead up and just let them burn up in the atmosphere so that they can become one with the sky. This resulted in some pretty spectacular meteor showers.

Same random grounder: “What a beautiful shooting star!”

Starscream, casually: “Oh, that’s my grandpa, SKYECHO SON OF AIRHALO SON OF SWIFTWING--”

Same unfortunate grounder: “wHAT--”

Seekers make noises all the time and are very rarely silent. They hum when content, beep when excited, chirp when riled up, rumble when confused, trill when happy, and so on. Starscream used to be a chatterbox but was forced to repress his chitterings because Megatron would always tell him to shut up. He’s going to trill more and more throughout Unburied, especially around Optimus.

Seeker towers were infamous for their weird architecture. They weren’t designed to ever be wandered around in while in your bipedal mode. No staircases, period. Just extremely tall ceilings and arches with curved corridors everybody flew through with lots of balconies you could land on. There were lots of holes in the wall that they could fly through that led to actual rooms where they would transform and be bipedal (berthrooms, washracks, etc) but then after they slept/ate/partied they were just like “that was fun guys, gotta go” and then just flung themselves out of a hole in the wall over a 1,000 foot drop and then just transformed in midair and flew off. Grounders couldn’t visit the towers due to there being no grounder-friendly infrastructure. Special buildings had to be built near the ground to help accommodate visiting grounders, but you only ever really saw these kinds of grounder-friendly accommodations in towers meant to receive diplomats.

They had bathhouses in their towers, like the ancient Romans but with robots instead of old dudes in togas. Just giant birdbaths basically. Just lots and lots of splashing and chittering.

Seekers preen themselves, their circuitry is delicate and even the slightest of contaminants can cause big problems. That’s why they have such sharp talons---for getting in the small spots. And for stabbing people. That’s a nice bonus, too. They preen each other all the time. There were some regions on their wings that could be preened by anybody, but some other parts of the wings that could only be preened by close friends such as trinemates. So the outer planes of the wing could be preened by just a general buddy, but the actual area where they connect to the back? That’s trinemate-only territory right there. It’s not a sexual thing, just a cultural taboo they had.

When Dreadwing makes his grand debut I think I might have a scene in which him and Starscream are preening each other while angrily bickering, not because they actually like each other, but just because they’re the only Seekers around and Starscream’s had a rock stuck in his wing seam and slag it, Dreadwing is the only bot who knows how to get it out--so it’d just be angry bird bickering and arguing preen time.

“You killed my brother!”

Starscream would then flutter angrily and say something like, “NO, BUMBLEBEE DID, STOP BLAMING ME--please get that rock out of my wing seam k thX--IT WAS THE SCOUT’S FAULT!”

And then Dreadwing would just be like, “Skyquake is dead, and it’s all YOUR FAULT--I also have a rather unfortunate rock located in my wing seam, can you remove that--and it’s because of your cowardice I am now brotherless!”

Seeker talons were actually retractable. Some Seekers would have their talons out literally all the time though, these were Seekers who were high-ranking in the military or who were just on some quest of personal revenge. After the war began they modified their talons to just always be sharp because you don’t want to accidentally retract them when in battle.

I am only just now realizing that this got kind of long, huh. I hope this wasn’t too much!! I might post more Seeker headcanons in the future.

#starscream #unburied #transformers #transformers:prime #headcanons #worldbuilding #seeker culture #fanfiction

[ghostnebula]

I think we need werewolf richie fucking and knotting eddie but rough this time. The way Eddie likes it, maybe even just a little bit more.

anonymous: ok no but i gotta know. this werewolf richie thing is making my brain go fucking HAYWIRE PLSSS okok so does being a werewolf make richie's size kink worse?? like does he see how small eddie is and go fuCK Y E S i gotta protect that i gotta fuck that?? like out of wolf instincts or smth,, tell me what wolf instincts affect kinks i gotta know rn

I’m gonna answer these both at once because uuuuhhhhh oh my fuckin god? YES, being a werewolf makes Richie’s size kink worse. FUCK YES it does.

I’m imagining Richie just like… becoming hyperaware of how tiny Eddie is while they’re hanging out. It’s just the two of them, curled up on the couch in the Losers’ living room (they’re all in college together because I make the rules), watching terrible movies so they can make fun of the plots and the acting. Eddie’s leaning against Richie, legs stretched out across one end of the couch with his head kind of resting against his upper arm, and he’s got one of Richie’s hands pulled onto his lap so he can play with his fingers while he mocks someone’s fake British accent. Richie isn’t really paying too much attention to where Eddie’s pressed against him at first, because this is a pretty common practice for them. But he has this fleeting thought, while Eddie’s fiddling with his hand, that Eddie’s hands and fingers are just… so itty bitty.

And then it comes back and it sticks. Like… Eddie is itty bitty. That consumes his whole mind in the span of a few seconds. He knows Eddie is smaller than him, obviously – he’s not stupid. But in this moment it just feels more obvious than usual, maybe because of how they’re positioned, or maybe because of how dainty Eddie’s fingers feel on his wrist. Richie’s always been kind of turned on by their size difference, and when it’s at the forefront of his mind like this he becomes helpless against it.

This pretty little thing is his. This pretty, tiny thing asks him all the time to fuck him until he’s crying, and while Richie doesn’t want to treat him like he’s delicate (because he really isn’t), he doesn’t ever want to truly hurt him, and he never really trusts himself not to do that. He doesn’t trust himself not to lose control. Eddie will ask him to fuck him harder, bite him deeper, push him around more. And Richie can’t always give it to him, because he’s too busy trying to keep a handle on himself.

He twists his hand around in Eddie’s grip to capture both his wrists between his fingers, and marvels at the fact that he can even do that. “Hey!” Eddie says, playfully indignant, only pretending to fight the hold.

“Hey,” Richie shoots back, bending down to press a kiss near where his neck meets his shoulder. “I wanna fuck you.”

“Of course you do, you horny–” Eddie starts to say, but it tapers off into a high moan when Richie’s teeth sink into the skin he just kissed, deep enough to hurt the way he likes it to. Deep enough to break skin. Eddie pushes back into it.

He swallows the blood that floods his mouth and then licks at the wound a few times. “I wanna knot you.”

“Please,” Eddie squeaks, a shudder rolling up his spine, and Richie uses the grip he has on his wrists to drag him off the couch and upstairs to their room. He’s pulling their clothes off before he’s even closed the door, pushing a hand against Eddie’s back to shove him face-first onto the bed and demanding that he stay while Richie strips off his pants and lifts his hips until Eddie can get his knees planted firmly on the bed. He bites him again, low on his back, just above his ass, and Eddie gasps out a “Ohholyfuck!”

But he doesn’t stop there. He holds Eddie by his hips, which look so small under his hands, and bites all over his ass and thighs, drawing blood, and sucking hickeys everywhere that isn’t actively bleeding, only stopping every once in a while to admire the way Eddie – who knows better than to try to touch himself by now – has the sheets in a white-knuckled grip, or to spread his cheeks apart and lick over his hole. His nails dig into the soft skin on Eddie’s hips and thighs and make him bleed more where he isn’t already bruising deeply.

When he’s satisfied with his work, and he thinks no one who sees that will ever dare touch what is so clearly his, he folds his body over Eddie’s, dwarfing him under his bulk, and presses a kiss to his flushed cheek. Eddie mumbles something incoherent and turns his head to kiss him properly while Richie fumbles around on the nightstand trying to find the lube.

He starts fingering Eddie open while he’s still looming over him, and takes advantage of the position to do the same thing he did to his legs and his ass to the rest of his body, licking and sucking all over his throat, his shoulders, his back – wherever he can reach. Biting him with inhumanly sharp teeth, growling possessively while he licks up the blood that wells in the fucking holes he puts in his skin. Even the size of the bite marks he leaves look massive against the small expanse of Eddie’s back and curling around the side of his throat. “I love you,” he says before licking Eddie’s cheek and smearing a mixture of blood and saliva there. He draws back to pour more lube on his fingers and work it into Eddie, trying to stretch him out enough to take his knot, and Eddie jumps and hisses out, “Fuck!” when Richie presses too hard on his prostate, the muscles in his legs tensing while he turns his face against the sheets to muffle the sounds he’s making.

Richie barely thinks to wipe his hand clean on the corner of their blanket before grabbing both of Eddie’s wrists again and squeezing them together in one hand, hard enough to bruise, as he lines up his aching cock and sinks into Eddie – probably too fast, but he doesn’t get any complaints, so he doesn’t slow down. He doesn’t take it slow or easy at all, too preoccupied with claiming his sweet little plaything and making sure the world knows who he belongs to. He plants his free hand between Eddie’s shoulder blades and leans his weight on that arm, pinning his top half to the bed while he fucks into him, legs spread to encase Eddie between them. And that’s it, that’s what really gets him, is the sight of Eddie so tiny under just his hand, pinned down so easily, his petite wrists trapped between Richie’s fingers.

Richie’s fucking into him at a brutal pace, something he wouldn’t typically allow for himself, if only because he’s always stuck maintaining that precarious balance between giving Eddie everything he wants and preventing himself from becoming lost in his instincts. He’s usually got better self-control than this, but it’s really close to a full moon and Eddie is so fucking small and Richie loves him so fucking much and he’s also horny as hell, which is important here, and he needs to take care of his baby boy so no one else ever gets their hands on him, okay? Eddie’s making these soft little hiccupping noises under him, like the air’s being knocked out of him every time Richie thrusts too hard into the tight heat of his little body.

Richie presses his hand down harder on his back and leans forward to sink his teeth into the scar he made on the back of Eddie’s neck as he feels his knot start to catch. He doesn’t slow down, but he does thrust more shallowly as it swells up inside of Eddie until he can’t move anymore, not without making Eddie whimper from the discomfort of it, and then he’s coming and he can feel Eddie’s breathing hitch in the way his ribs seize under his hand. He’s still got his canines latched onto his mating bite, and the hand he’s pinning Eddie down with has the beginnings of claws tearing open his poor, bruised skin, and he realizes he’s on the verge of transformation, but for once that doesn’t scare him. Not when he knows he can step back from the brink – not when he knows he didn’t lose control, and he didn’t hurt Eddie. Not any more than he wanted, at least. He takes the hand he’s halfway to crushing Eddie with off of him and reaches between his legs to jerk him off. Almost immediately Eddie’s mouth is falling open, eyes squeezing shut, as he comes, his walls clenching around Richie’s knot.

It takes a few seconds for the mantra of mine mine mine mine minemineminemine to die down in his head, and a few seconds longer to realize he’s still growling against Eddie’s neck, hot blood coating his tongue. “Good baby,” is the first thing he says when he blinks away the haze and pries his jaw open to release Eddie, loosening his grip on his wrists – not letting them go, because he has to take a moment to rub some of the soreness out of them first. “You’re so good for me.” Eddie’s shaking under him still, but he looks completely blissed out, and when Richie leans down to kiss him, Eddie turns his head to meet him. He rubs his hands up and down Eddie’s sides a few times before moving them up to his shoulders so he can massage the stiffness out of them. “I’m gonna take care of you forever,” he promises, placing a gentle kiss just behind Eddie’s ear.

“I can take care of myself,” Eddie replies automatically, and it’s true – if anyone needs to be taken care of in this relationship, it’s probably Richie. But that isn’t what he meant. Instinctively, anyway, he’s got this urge to protect Eddie all the time, just as much as he’s got an urge to fuck and knot him all the damn time. Eddie’s more than capable even without Richie around to protect him, but that’s not gonna change his natural instincts.

“I know,” he says, smiling even though Eddie can’t see it. “I know you can, Eds. I just love you a lot.”

Eddie beckons him down for another kiss and offers a quiet, “I love you, too,” against his lips.

#fuji09 #anonymous #reddie #werewolf richie #inappropriate #minors dni #ask #writing #long post

[floralseokjin]

— crystallised 07 (m)

crystallised /ˈkrɪst(ə)lʌɪz/ (verb) make or become definite and clear

Six weeks, that’s all it takes to forget about the threesome you shared with your boyfriend, Yoongi, and your past…fuck buddy, Seokjin. After all, it’s no big deal. Yoongi and you are doing better than ever, there’s no reason to regret such a night shared. That is until you hear some gossip in the library one day, and then slowly, little by little, everything starts to fall apart… Can you begin to make sense out of all this confusion, or is it too late?

pairing; kim seokjin x reader  genre/warnings; smut; oral, fluff for like the first scene.. and then the drama and the angst kicks in 😬 oc really doesn’t have a good track record with parties bless her 🤧 words; 8,724

sequel to;  memoirs of a mistake + losytmyhead

chapters; 01 ⤑ 02 ⤑ 03 ⤑ 04 ⤑ 05 ⤑ 06 ⤑ 07⤑ 08 ✓

“What are you doing?” Seokjin chuckled, chin jutting into his chest, trying to save himself as your lips puckered against his neck, tickling him. You hummed into the skin before biting it playfully. “You’re going to miss what’s happening.”

You lifted your head, mouth now seeking his. “Don’t care,” you said against it. 

“You don’t care?” He repeated, amused. He shut up for minute when your tongue swiped his bottom lip, kissing you back before quickly pulling away. “You’re the one who suggested we put it on.” 

“Fine.” You rested your head on his shoulder, attention now back on the laptop sat between your bodies on the bed. You hadn’t given up entirely though. The movie had been an excuse. Not that you needed one to hang out with Seokjin. He was your boyfriend now after all. The word still made you giddy. Even a week later.

But back to the “excuse.” It was an excuse to get him on your bed. Excuse to touch him and kiss him and everything else you were burning to do. You hadn’t seen him much all week, and if truth be told you were still tingling from the night shared at his. It was the first time you’d gotten intimate like that since you’d gotten together, and while it was amazing, you wouldn’t mind doing it with you clothes off this time. 

It wasn’t long before your hand was rooming his body. Across his chest, down his stomach, lifting under the fabric of his sweatshirt to graze the fine hair that trailed down to his crotch. He yielded first, hands reaching for your face, angling you to kiss him. With a little mischievous smirk you slid your hand further, over the front of his shorts, cupping his dick. You massaged him, feeling him begin to grow hard against your palm. As he groaned against your lips your excitement grew. 

He murmured your name, sounding a little dazed. “What’s with you tonight?” 

“What do you think?” The rhetorical wasn’t enough. You wanted to spell it out to him. Bravely. “I’m horny.” 

You think it did the job, your words having the desired effect. He was on your mouth before you could take another breath. Laptop lying forgotten, as good as squashed when he rolled on top of you, movie playing to itself. His hands groped your body almost eagerly, like he’d been waiting for this a long time and that just got your heartbeat racing, body burning. 

So it was like he’d thrown a cup of iced water over you when he pulled away abruptly. 

“Let’s stop now,” he murmured, kissing the top of your nose. 

You laughed, believing he was just teasing you, only the way he began to lift from your body told you he wasn’t. “Serious?” You asked, smile falling from your face. He’d just been making out with you furiously not five seconds ago, dick as hard as ever, and now he wanted to stop? 

He eyed you, sensing the edge in your tone and tried to sound casual. “It’s getting late. We won’t be able to finish the movie.” 

Frustration filled you, followed by some unexplainable embarrassment. So you’d basically made a fool of yourself just now, not realising you were going to get rejected like that… Because that’s what it was… Rejection. “That’s what you care about?” You asked, pushing at his shoulder to wriggle out from under him. He slowly sat up, finally pausing the movie. You guessed he really didn’t want to miss it…

“I don’t understand what’s going on. Don’t you want me?” Shit. You cursed inwardly, the question leaving you before you could stop it. Way to sound desperate. 

“Of course I do,” he protested. “I just…” 

His hesitation was enough to hurt your feelings even more, embarrassment now prickling your skin. You rolled onto you side, saving face. “Whatever, finish your stupid movie.” 

You felt like an idiot. Rejection was never fun, but neither was conflict. You hated feeling annoyed at Seokjin – mad even. 1. Because it felt just plain wrong. Especially after all the recent happiness, and 2. It was plain childish this issue was over sex. It was stupid how something like that could turn you into an insecure fool, but you just wanted him. Wanted to show him how much he meant to you. Was that such a bad thing? 

“No,” Seokjin insisted, and you felt him move closer, holding onto your arm. He shook it lightly. “I do want you.” Despite your slight humiliation, it began to disappear when his face found its way into the crook of his neck, mouth kissing away furiously.  He felt your body ease up and kissed your earlobe once, before trailing across your cheek. Try as he might though, he couldn’t reach your mouth. 

“Please kiss me back,” he whined, hugging into your body. You couldn’t help your giggle. 

That did it. His hands beginning to tickle you as his mouth found the side of your neck again. You shrieked. “Stop!” You tried to squirm away, but he latched onto you, laughing. “Okay, okay,” you gave in, able to get on your back. You reached for the back of his head to pull him forward, but his mouth was already on yours before you got halfway. 

He rolled on top of you, rocking his body into yours in a much less eager rhythm than before. He was sure to be gentle, sure to be sweet, and your skin began to flush once again in excitement. He was warm and having his body on top of yours made you feel safe. This time you were sure he wasn’t going to pull away, and you were correct. He deepened the kiss, hands cradling your face like he was determined to put your mind at ease, and it was you who had to pull away in the end. Jaw beginning to ache, a little out of breath. 

“I do want you,” he repeated softly. He hesitated for a second before deciding to continue. “I’m just kinda nervous.” 

You held onto him, feeling slightly guilty for your melodramatics just a moment ago. The thought of him being nervous had never really crossed your mind, because, well, he was Seokjin. Seokjin never got nervous about stuff like that. No matter what, sex was the one thing he seemed to be genuinely confident in. “Why?” You whispered. “It’s just me.” You’d been intimate way too many times to count. What had changed? 

He gave you a coy smile, fighting through his embarrassment. “It’s been a while.” 

You giggled, reaching to kiss him. Okay, you understood. You cocked an eyebrow, knowing the best way to put him at ease would be with some light teasing. “Kim Seokjin forgetting how to pleasure women?” 

He rolled his eyes, playing too. “Well, I am human too.” 

You burst out laughing, Seokjin joining in too before the urge to kiss again got too damn much. It was with intent this time, each stroke of his tongue turning you to putty, his hands running down your body. You pushed into him, your legs tangling with his, before he used one hand to grip your ass, lifting you to hold you to his crotch. He let it grind with his, controlling the movement with small circles. You couldn’t help but moan out a little. The sensation of his hardness rubbing against you reminding you of a few nights ago when you’d humped one another silly. 

He pushed you into the bed now, giving you a few more tiny grinds before he eased up and a hand slipped into your shorts, bypassing your underwear completely. Your head fell back, pressing into the pillow as you felt one of his long fingers stroke down your folds, the sweet relief rendering you immobile. You gasped when he began circling your clit, so slowly, yet so precisely it took you everything to open your mouth and speak. “Nope,” you sighed happily. “You didn’t forget anything.” 

He chuckled. “I haven’t even done anything yet.” 

With his mouth at your neck, the time for talking was finally over. You concentrated on the sensation of his lips, trailing their way to the collar of your t-shirt and back up again. You concentrated on the way his hand pleasured you, fingers dragging down your slit once again to circle your entrance. You were hyperaware of how wet you were and for some puzzling reason that embarrassed you just a smidge. Maybe because yes, he hadn’t actually done anything yet. Your excitement was just too much, anticipation itching at your whole body. You squirmed under him, desperate to just feel his fingers inside of you. You almost opened your mouth and begged, but then you felt his other hand tug at the waistband of your shorts. He wanted you naked. 

And naked he got you. From the waist down. He ogled for a moment; it was actually pretty funny. Mesmerised by a sight he hadn’t seen in the longest time, and then he was on you. Hand between your legs, grinding down, tongue in your mouth, making you breathless. You planted your feet against the mattress, which was lucky, because no sooner had you done so, he was pushing a finger inside of you. You moaned, hips jumping up. Fuck, it had been so long since you’d felt even an ounce of this kind of pleasure. Masturbation was good, but never this good. Seokjin was enjoying himself too, getting used to how you felt again and how you liked it. 

He lowered his face to yours, a smile spreading. He looked insanely happy, like sweetly happy, which was hilarious considering he was now two fingers wide inside of you, gliding them in and out of your body like he was playing a rhythm. It honestly felt so good you could cry. 

“What?” You whispered; voice uneven. You subconsciously spread your legs wider. 

“Nothing,” he said innocently but his actions were anything but. He curled his fingers inside of you, keeping deep, and you twisted in pleasure, moaning out. He liked that, moaning too. “You’re so wet.” That you were. It stuck to the inside of your thighs now and sounded around the room with each thrust of his fingers. Sticky and lewd, but hot and beautiful. So very hot. 

He watched you intently, studying your face, almost like he was too afraid to kiss you in case he missed something. There was a glint in his eyes though. Something needy. It all made sense when he spoke again. He was so close his hot breath fanned across your face. “Mm. Is there anything you really want me to do?” 

He was hinting. How cute. He was too nervous to just say outright what he wanted to do to you. Because you knew what it was. You’d guessed it straight away earlier when his eyes had been glued to your centre. Or maybe that was just your urge talking. It really had been the longest time since he’d eaten you out.  

“Mouth,” you moaned, unable to stop yourself from reaching and kissing his, tongues meshing together for a few quick seconds before you pulled away. “Want your mouth.” 

From the moment you felt his tongue between your legs you were done for. He was a little hesitant at first, looking up at your face to see if you were enjoying yourself, but your reactions encouraged him soon enough. He took his time, getting familiar with being this intimate with your body again. How you felt, how you tasted, how you liked it. 

The last part was easy though. You were so sensitive every drag of his tongue exploded your nerves. You found yourself remembering back to when he’d eaten you out the very first time. In the back of his car after a very confident and brazen proposition. You would never regret accepting. Not when this was the outcome. You and him. 

You came hard, to the warmth of Seokjin’s tongue – when he was finally done dragging it out as much as possible of course. It dazed you. Made you feel all warm and sated. Like you wanted to hold Seokjin tight and never let him go, because he knew your body so well, like you’d never been apart. Knew how to make you feel good. But more than that, you never wanted to let him go because he made you so happy. Everything about him. Maybe it was the orgasm making you sappy. So you kept quiet. Didn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around his shoulders though, when he crawled up your body, holding him tight like your heart wanted. 

“Good?” He asked, a little out of breath. 

“So good,” you nodded, giggling a little when you caught a proper look at him. His mouth and chin shining in the dim lighting. You really had been that wet, huh? You went to wipe him clean in apology. “You’re all sticky.” 

He shook you away. “Mm. I like it.” That made you laugh harder, squealing when he squashed his lips to yours. You didn’t really mind though, kissing him happily. 

Besides, there was something distracting you. Like your need to return the favour. You had started this night wanting it to end in sex, but now you really had the mightiest of urges to suck his dick. Just as good as he’d gone down on you. Sex could wait until next time. This was equally as great. 

You pulled back, running a hand though his hair. “Your turn.” He was rock solid; you could feel his erection pressing into you every now and then. You didn’t know how he had the strength to essentially be ignoring it right now. 

His eyes widened. It was actually pretty comical. “I’m okay, honest. If you don’t want to, it’s fine.”  

You dropped your head to the side, looking at him as if he was dumb. “Jin,” you cupped his face between your hands. “Of course I want to.” You kissed him. “Yeah?” 

He reached for your mouth again, humming against it. He pushed his crotch entirely into yours then, finally trying to ease the pressure. “Yeah.”

He was on his back with you straddling him in seconds. You kissed him hard, excitement rolling through your body at such a high frequency you felt like you were vibrating. The urge to just pleasure him and make him feel good was just too much. You detached your mouths and ran your hands down his chest and sides as you slipped lower, butt settling on his thighs, and then you glided a hand across his clothed dick. Poor thing was sick of being restricted, ready to explode, and it struck you, why were you still playing about when you could finally get ahold of him properly? Wrap your fist around his pretty dick and run it across the hot, thick flesh. Make Seokjin feel just as amazing as he’d made you feel. 

“I’ll cum really fast,” he told you, mildly embarrassed, his shorts now lose around his calves, cock wrapped in your hand. You could feel it tightening against your palm, squeezing in anticipation. 

“What’s new?” You teased, watching him shift and attempt to prop himself up with your cushions. 

“Hey,” he whined, before he faltered a little, jaw falling slack as you began to run your fist over him. 

It was almost exhilarating, getting to feel him like this again after so long. To feel how his body keened to you. He let out a breathy sigh when your thumb circled the tip of him, spreading the precum already formed against the sensitive skin. You bit down on your bottom lip, a need in your stomach growing. To taste him, to feel him in your mouth. You’d never wanted to suck dick so bad in your life. The power of Kim Seokjin. 

“No, really though—ahhh,” he broke off suddenly, strangled noise catching in his throat as you pounced. 

Maybe wanting to get a better view, or maybe just unable to know what to do with himself, he sat up, watching his dick disappearing into your mouth, feeling your tongue wash and curl around it. He dug his fingers into the sheets, his breathing laboured as he moaned lowly, mesmerised at the sight. 

“Shit.” He cursed when you choked a little, getting a little too overzealous, you admitted. But he seemed to enjoy it, hips bucking up, eager for the sensation again. So you repeated, jaw aching as you stretched around him, trying to get his big ass dick as far as it would go without suffocating you. 

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, thighs tensing up. You came up for air and he quickly wrapped his fist around the base of his dick, squeezing tightly, as if he was desperate not to cum yet. He gave you a coy chuckle and you reached up to kiss him, giggling too. 

“You can cum, you know. I won’t mind.” You murmured, nudging his hand out the way so yours could take its place, beginning to rock it up and down. Your weight against his chest toppled him back to the mattress and you both landed with a soundless puff. You kissed him wildly. Your lips were wet so they slid against his easily, only making you lose yourself further. 

He groaned as you picked up the pace of your fist, air squelching through the gaps, his cock slick with your saliva. You glided easily, grip tight enough to work your magic, concentrating on the head, fast but determined jerks, rendering Seokjin pretty incapable of trying to hold off coming any longer. 

He grunted against your mouth, pulling back to catch his breath, each exhale sounding more like a moan than anything else. “Don’t stop.” You grinned, mouth on his neck now. He’d given in. “Shit,” he cursed quietly. You could feel him pulling his sweatshirt up his stomach a little, preparing for the spill. That was adorable. He didn’t want to stain his clothing, and just like that you felt a fresh urge. “I’m gonna–c–”

“No, wait,” you half yelped, bouncing back, your movements stopping. He looked at you with wide eyes, pleasure on his face almost turning into betrayal. Well, you had been the one telling him to cum minutes before. You were evil. Yet you were positive he’d enjoy your idea much better than coming on his own stomach. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whined. “Don’t you want to cum in my mouth?” 

You forgot how easy it was to talk so candidly like this. With Seokjin you could say whatever you wanted. No matter how dirty or sordid. 

“Cum in your–? Yeah,” He nodded breathlessly. “Fuck. Yeah.” He was babbling, lost in his own pleasure bubble as you crawled back down his body, raking your fingers slowly along his length before your mouth reached him, lips wrapping around the head to suck at the sensitive skin. He trembled under you. 

You eased up, wrapping your hand around him again, jerking him tightly right under your mouth. He reacted, hips steadily rising up with each movement and you popped your mouth off him completely, now letting your tongue swirl and flick sticky patterns across the swollen tip. 

You looked up at him, not noticing he’d been staring down at you this whole time, watching your every action, eyes glassy, and you give him a smile. He groaned, expression scrunching up before his eyes fluttered closed and he let his head fall back agains the pillows, one of his hands running across his forehead. Not long now. His body was taut, chest heaving for oxygen. 

You wrapped your mouth around him again, flattening your tongue and jerked him harder, hearing him grunt, hips shooting up and stiffening. You released your grip on his cock as you waited for the first spurt of cum, only to tighten again when you tasted the second.

Squeezing him before you raked your fist up and down slowly, massaging him, dragging out his pleasure as he emptied every last drop of cum inside your mouth and down your throat as you swallowed. 

You only let him go when he softened, sensitive, even the warmth of your mouth agitating him now. He managed to lift his head up, glancing down at you in a daze and you laughed, making your way up his body. He reached for you, caressing your sides. “You okay,” he asked weakly. 

You nodded, hand stroking down his chest. “Yep.” You were more than okay. On top of the world. “Are you?” 

He cupped one of his hands over yours and chuckled. “You literally blew my brains out, but yeah, I’m great.” 

You couldn’t hide your grin, tugging at his sweatshirt so he would sit up. So you could wrap your arms around him, and hug him, and kiss him, and— Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash just as Seokjin obliged and sat up. You jumped a mile, instinctively gripping to him, eyes wide. “What was that?” 

He laughed loudly, amused by the scared look on your face and wrapped his arms around your middle. “Your laptop.” Oh, shit. You’d forgotten about that. Amazed it had even lasted that long on your bed with all the movement. Must’ve been hanging on for dear life, finally unable to save itself. 

You made to move and pick it up but Seokjin squeezed you to him. “No, leave it,” he whined, placing a pouty kiss on your mouth. “It’s fine,” he reassured. “Wanna hold youuu.” 

And who were you to say no to that? Although, if the screen was cracked, he was paying for it to get repaired… 

“How long do we have,” Seokjin asked as he walked back into his bedroom, towel slung around his hips, another in his hand as he rubbed it through his hair, attempting to dry it. 

“Hm. Like three hours.” It was a few days later, Hoseok’s birthday, and he was having a party later on tonight. It was supposed to be a surprise but living with Namjoon he was bound to find out one way or the other. 

You got up, shimmying your cardigan off and throwing it on the bed. “You gonna shower now?” He asked. 

“Mmhm.” You nodded, attempting to raise your tank top over your head. 

“Babe,” Seokjin protested, realising you were stripping in here. “Sandeul is in his room. You can’t just walk out there naked.” 

You paused, tugging it back down over your stomach to roll your eyes playfully. “You walked back in pretty much naked.” Besides, as if you would do that. Your towel was in here. You wouldn’t be streaking it past his room. 

“That’s different,” he said. “I’m not my girlfriend.” He let his words sink in before puzzling.  “Wait…” 

You chuckled, moving closer to him. “I get what you mean.” He dropped the towel he’d been using to dry his hair on the floor, instantly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. There were still water droplets against his shoulders, back too you found out as you ran your hands across it. If you thought about it, it was a wonder you hadn’t tried to jump his bones already. He was illegal in just this towel. Smelling of strawberries and still wet. You leant in closer, lips nearly touching. You were only half joking. “Can’t we just blow the party off?” 

Seokjin chuckled, squeezing you tighter to him “And break Hobi’s heart? No way.”

You grumbled, mouths finally meeting in warm sticky goodness. Kissing Seokjin was like breathing to you now. Funny because even though it seemed like a lifetime ago, you still remembered when it hadn’t always been that way. When it had taken you literal weeks to kiss at all in the original days. Unbelievable now, not when his lips fit so well against yours. 

“I can’t stop thinking about the other night,” you said quietly. You’d been glowing ever since. Boss complimenting you on your new and improved customer service skills that had magically appeared in the last few days. What could you say? Orgasms and sucking dick put you in an exceptionally good mood. 

From the way you could feel something tenting against Seokjin’s towel you guessed it excited him too. Cheekily his hands found their way to your ass, giving it a squeeze. You were growing hot fast, head fuzzy, body greedy. In the thick of it a memory popped into your mind. “Remember when we fucked in the shower that one time? You slipped and nearly died.” 

Seokjin laughed softly, hands sliding up the small of your back now. You shivered. “I nearly smashed my pretty little face in.” 

You reached to kiss him again, he returned the action, getting your hopes up. It was only  when he pulled away did you realise that he’d only been indulging you. He gave a little tap to your side. “Speaking of showers… Weren’t you about to take one?” 

He was already walking away, towards his nightstand to grab his watch. “But I–

“Maybe we should get there a little earlier.” He interrupted. You couldn’t tell if he’d done it on purpose or if you’d just spoken at the same time. But he didn’t let you carry on like he usually did anyway... “Just to hang out. Before people start arriving.” 

Uh oh. It was coming back. That feeling. The one you’d gotten a few nights ago in your bed. Rejection. Embarrassing rejection. Unexplainable. Possibly an overreaction, but you couldn’t ignore it. Not when heat prickled your skin and your stomach sank. You just felt plain stupid. You tried to remember what he’d told you. He wanted you. He really did. You knew that, but why were you so insecure lately? 

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been into it the other night. He’d really enjoyed himself, made sure you did too and afterwards he’d kissed and held you before you’d fallen asleep. Just now even, moments ago, he’d grown hard easily. He’d wanted you, yet there was still something holding him back. Something he was hesitant about. 

“I don’t get it.” 

You accidentally said it out loud. Seokjin was a little puzzled until he caught a look at your face. He steeled himself, sounding casual when he spoke next, picking up the towel he’d thrown on the floor. “We’re in the middle of getting ready.” Any other time, any other scenario and that would be fine. It was the truth after all. But your insecurities were screaming at you. You watched him sit on the bed, beginning to dry his hair again. “Besides, didn’t we agree to take it slow?”

You froze, struggling for words. “We did, but I just…” Were you foolish to think that had past now? That was when things were still new, a little uncertain. Things were serious now. He’d asked you to be his girlfriend a week ago. You clenched your teeth, deciding you wouldn’t back down. Something was up, and you wanted to know what. He was giving you conflicting messages. “There comes a point where it just feels like you’re blowing me off. I understand wanting to take it slow. I wanted that too, but now I just want to show you how much you mean to me.” 

Were you wrong to think like that? Sex definitely wasn’t the be all, end all. You’d come to realise that these past few months. Because you and Seokjin were more than that. Always had been despite not releasing, but it didn’t mean it had to become some sort of forbidden subject between the two of you. An awkward conversation. 

“I’m not blowing you off.” There was an edge to his voice, unable to hide it. That just pissed you off. It flared through your body. 

“Well then what is it?” You demanded. He shrugged, standing up to start searching for clothes in his closet. No. he wasn’t blowing this argument off too. It had already started in your eyes now. You hated conflict, but you wanted answers. “You’re doing it right now. Just say now if you don’t want me like that anymore.” 

“Of course I want you.” He exclaimed, surprising you with the volume. “I’ve already said like a hundred times. What kind of question is that? I’ve always wanted you. Long before you wanted me.” 

You gaped. “Seokjin, what the hell.” The silence that stretched between you seemed to last forever. You were hyper aware of your heart thudding in your chest, in your ears. You wanted to ask him what that meant? If he held it against you… But now no words would leave your mouth. Maybe you were too scared of the answer. 

He drew back from the closet, shaking his head a little as if clearing his mind, stepping closer to you. His voice was gentle when he spoke again. “I just want everything to be perfect the first time. It’s nothing bad. Just that.” 

You frowned. What did that mean? Candles and sensual music? That didn’t seem Seokjin’s style. Besides, there had been plenty of perfect opportunities, and why was this the first time you were hearing about it? 

“Really? Because I feel like it’s more than that.” You weren’t buying it, but the worry on his face began to unsettle you. He sat down. You joined him. “Seokjin,” you begged softly, trying to get through to him. “I just want to be with you. I miss you.” Being this open was a weird feeling for you, but you were trying to be different. To face your fears even in the midst of uncertainty. 

He dropped his head into his hands. “I’m sorry.” 

Concern twisted in your gut. Whatever was wrong was more than just sex. “Seokjin, if there’s something wrong, just tell me,” you said softly. “If you’re worried about something, I don’t know, you can talk to me.” 

He shook his head, laughing weakly at himself. “I’m just being fucking stupid.”

“About what?” 

He hesitated. “I just… I feel under pressure.”

You frowned. “Under pressure?” You didn’t get it.  

“I keep thinking.” For some reason, despite wanting answers, you had a bad feeling about this. A sick feeling. “About us… About that night. You know,” he looked up, not needing to spell it out, but doing so anyway, “with Yoongi.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You were instantly defensive, a bite to your voice. 

He tugged at his hair, frustrated. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

Whatever. You’d just explain for him. “It ruined things?” 

“What?” He scoffed, eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. “No. It didn’t, of course it didn’t. I just—

“Oh, my god,” you couldn’t let him finish. You couldn’t even listen to him. Too scared, but also your mind was running away with you. Racing, making you dizzy. “I knew there was something wrong. Why you didn’t want to have sex with me.” 

“That’s not the issue.” He insisted. “Nothing’s ruined like that. It’s me. It’s all on me. I–I…” He trailed off, struggling.

“I don’t understand.” If anything you were even more confused now. You stood up abruptly, grabbing your cardigan. “I need to go.” 

“What?” He looked up. “But Hobi’s party?” 

“I don’t know if I can go.” You didn’t even know if you were making sense yourself. Talking but your mind still racing. “I need–I need a moment to—

“Stay,” he rushed, standing up too, reaching for your hand. “Look. We don’t have to go. We can stay here and talk.” 

“I don’t want to talk.” You shook your head. He stared at you, looking hurt, dropping your hand abruptly. You cursed at yourself. Things were coming out wrong. “Not right now anyway.” 

“So you’re just gonna run away?” Yes, you were. “You ask me what’s up, I’m trying to tell you and now you can’t handle it?” 

Maybe he was right. “I don’t–I don’t even understand what’s going on,” you admitted. You wish you’d never pressed him now. You hated arguments. Always ran away at the first signs of conflict. Why did you think that could change?

Seokjin kept silent, still looking at you, hurt in his eyes. You could stay. Let him talk, understand what he meant. But you were too scared. Scared you’d hate the reality. Scared it would hurt you. You took a step backwards. You needed some space. “I’ll speak to you tomorrow or something, okay?” 

He still didn’t say anything. Just let you pick up your bag and watched you leave. 

.

.

Not exactly surprising but being alone just made everything worse. Curled up on your sofa with nothing but your own thoughts was not fun. Why hadn’t you just stayed? Why hadn’t you just heard Seokjin out, instead of not only speaking over him, but speaking for him too. You kept thinking about what he’d said. About being under pressure and wanting things perfect. About thinking about the threesome. What did that even mean? You’d thought that was behind you. You’d already spoken about it in the beginning and made sense over it, so why did he bring it up? Did he really regret it that much? Or was that just your worry talking? Thinking about it, you’d definitely put words into his mouth. Words he was quick to deny, yet you hadn’t let him give you the actual reason. The one he was struggling with. Still struggling with because you’d just ran away. 

Something else kept fucking with you too. What he’d said when it had first started escalating. He wanted you way before you wanted him. Did he really think that? It had fallen from his mouth so easily. Yes, in some ways it was true. It had taken you a long time to realise your feelings, but you were under the impression he was okay with that. It had taken him a little while to realise too. You were both guilty of it. So why had he said that? Maybe that’s why you’d become so defensive? Hurt by such a flippant remark…

An hour later you were still thinking, wondering if Seokjin had gone to the party without you, when your cell rang. Your stomach flipped, thinking it was him, but you were only left with disappointment when you saw Lina’s name. No offence to your best friend, but she wasn’t who you wanted to talk to right now. You thought about ignoring the call, but couldn’t do it. 

She wanted to know if you were already at the party and if not could she tag along. Jimin was going with some of his friends and he thought it’d be fun if they could meet up. You told her you weren’t going and she took it you and Seokjin were just being being boring spoil sports. No, he was probably there you told her, but you weren’t. There was a pause and then a sigh. “What happened?” 

Half an hour later she was in your bathroom mirror enthusiastically getting ready with you behind her, applying your own make up with not half as much vigour. Somehow she’d convinced you to go to Hoseok’s house party and somehow she’d gotten you to explain every single detail of your argument with Seokjin. 

You finished applying your mascara with a “What if he’s having second thoughts?” 

“Nonsense,” she scoffed. “I know Seokjin really likes you. I could tell by the way he was looking at you last week.”

Your heart warmed at that, but not for too long. You were instantly left wondering where it all went wrong. Maybe it was doomed from the start, maybe you were just too pessimistic. Lina caught a look at your face in the mirror and sighed. “I know it may be unbelievable, but I’m sticking up for him here. The guy sounds worried. You should’ve stayed to talk.” 

“No shit. Thanks for the words of wisdom.” 

She rolled her eyes at your sarcasm. “Let’s just go to the party, you can find him, talk to him. Make up with some kisses!” She puckered her lips way too enthusiastically. 

You pulled a face. That sounded scary more than anything. “Don’t worry,” she told you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and half hugging you. “One argument isn’t the end of everything. You need to quit believing that. Me and Jimin would’ve broken up too many times to count if so!” 

.

.

You spotted Seokjin almost right away, beer in hand, laughing and joking around with a bunch of guys you were vaguely familiar with. For some reason, seeing him so happy and unbothered, like he didn’t have a care in the world, pissed you off. You’d been battling with yourself for the past three hours and he was here, getting drunk. 

He must’ve spotted you too along the way. He came up behind you when you were in the kitchen, scrolling through your phone like a loner because Lina had made an instant beeline for Jimin and you didn’t fancy hanging out and socialising right now. 

“You came?” He sounded surprised, but in a good way. Happy. 

Like an idiot, unable to explain your actions, you just shrugged, locking your phone to turn and acknowledge him. “Mhm.” 

He smiled, not quite catching on to your frosty attitude yet. “That’s great. I didn’t think–I thought you wanted to be alone or something.” 

“Lina persuaded me.” 

“Oh.” Okay, maybe this time he heard the disinterest in your voice. He was a little drunk, you could smell the beer on his breath. Maybe you’d been wrong. Maybe he wasn’t carefree. Just drowning his sorrows. But you’d committed now. You were stubborn. He lowered his voice, leaning in. “Wanna go somewhere and talk?”  

You shrugged again, looking off into the distance. “Not really.” 

“Okay,” he said slowly, finally getting it. “How about I leave you alone then? Because that’s obviously what you want.” Guilt clogged your throat, made it unable to apologise and start over. “I don’t understand. You’re the one who ran out on me. I should be pissed right now.” 

You didn’t reply. He was probably right. “So now you’re not talking entirely? Fine,” he fumed, about to storm off. Only he had something else to say, turning back to whisper it furiously. “Honestly what was the point in us even trying to be together? This is just plain childish.” 

And then he was gone. It took you a few minutes to process his parting words and collect yourself, looking around you to see if anyone had noticed your exchange. They probably hadn’t, but it didn’t stop you from feeling embarrassed. Or maybe that was just because of Seokjin’s words. Childish? Were you childish? That whole interaction was definitely so. God, you were an idiot. 

You should just leave, but then again you couldn’t go without Lina. She’d flip if she knew you went alone. You looked around, which was a bad idea. Just reminded you of all the times you and Jin had been here hanging out with the guys and their girlfriends. Honestly, how could things go so wrong so fast? Days ago you’d been over the moon Seokjin had asked you to be his girlfriend. Now you were close to tears in a crowded party feeling more alone than ever. 

You were making your way up the staircase and aiming for the bathroom before you realised. Maybe some quiet time would help, the music muffled the further you got. You could cool down, have a breather and think about maybe finding Seokjin to apologise for real. What had Lina said? One argument wasn’t the end of a relationship. Only… what Jin had said just now seemed a little more alarming. He was having second thoughts. And now you were spiralling. Why the hell did you have to keep going on at him? Why couldn’t you have just been happy with how things were? Why couldn’t you have been patient? Why couldn’t you have just spoken to Seokjin…?

You got to the bathroom door just to realise it was out of bounds if the sex noises were anything to go by. You hovered, now a little lost. What should you do? You were sure Namjoon or Hoseok wouldn’t mind if you took refuge in one of their rooms. By the looks of things no one was in the both of them, dark inside, doors ajar. You took the first one, pushing inside quickly and close to shutting the door when you looked towards the bed, your heart dropping out of your chest as you let out a surprised gasp. 

Yoongi’s face was lit up by the white glow of his cellphone. He was sat on the bed, back against the wall, equally as surprised as you. It was only when it sunk in, shock wearing off did your heart start beating normally again and you could talk. You had not been expecting anyone to be in here. “Shit. Sorry, Yoongi. I didn’t know you were in here.” 

“It’s fine, my fault for hiding in the dark. Fuck, you gave me a fright.” He chuckled, mildly embarrassed. He sat up straight, changing his posture. “Looking for the bathroom?” 

“It was occupied.” He caught on instantly. You moved closer into the room, forgetting to close the door and leaving it ajar. “What are you doing?” Possibly an invasive question, but the guy was sat here in the dark like some some sort of serial killer. 

“Avoiding you and Jin. I saw you arrive.” Okay. You admired his honesty. He didn’t even sound embarrassed – not that he should. “Don’t worry, it’s an ego thing. From everyone else’s perspective it looks like I got dumped for another guy. Just my luck you’d find me. My fault for coming here in the first place.” 

You were listening, honest. But your eyes were flitting around the room, a strong sense of déjà vu hitting you. The bed, the colour of the walls, even the little metal alarm clock on the side table. Oh fuck. You were so stupid. How hadn’t it dawned on you before bolting in here? This was Namjoon’s room, and that meant–

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you feel shitty or anything.” Yoongi was still talking, moving forward to click on Namjoon’s lamp. Maybe your face was giving something away, but he was mistaken. “It’s not that serious, I’ll go downstairs soon.” 

“It’s not that,” you shook your head. 

“You okay?” 

“This bedroom…” You said weakly. You’d been so distracted it hadn’t even crossed your mind. 

He slowly nodded his head in acknowledgment. “Mm. Right. Coincidences are a bitch.” He chuckled. Maybe the same thing had happened to him. “Why did I come here again?” Tell you about it…  “Why are you trying to escape into the dark?” 

You kept silent. You didn’t think you could talk right now. Being in this bedroom with Yoongi…the argument with Seokjin… Everything was too much. You felt shaken. 

Yoongi murmured your name, sounding concerned. “What’s up? C’mon, sit.” He demanded lightly, tapping the bed. “Talk to me.” 

You should really just go. No offence to Yoongi, but talking to him was probably a bad idea anyway. He was definitely just being polite and confiding in him about something personal between you and Seokjin seemed wrong. For Seokjin’s sake and his. But maybe you just really wanted to hear his advice. Maybe you wanted Yoongi to tell you everything was going to be okay. He had always seemed like the voice of reason when you were dating. Maybe it was selfish of you, but then again, he’d asked what was wrong…

You sat down. If you ignored the dim light Yoongi had flicked on you were still in the dark. Alone and just voicing your worries out loud into nothing. “Everything’s a mess, Yoongi.” Okay, not into nothing then. You’d said his name. You definitely knew he was there. “I…” You hesitated, still cautious to say Seokjin’s name in front of him. Stupid really, but it just felt awkward. “I don’t think it can work out between me and him.” 

“What do you mean?” Whatever it was, he wasn’t expecting that. 

“I really wanted it to work out,” you whispered. You still felt a little shaky, and your voice didn’t sound your own. 

“I thought everything was going amazing?” He asked. “I saw you guys made it official.”

“It was going great, but I don’t know.” You sighed, unsure where to go from here. Unsure how to explain. “It’s also kinda awkward.” It had to be, right? If Seokjin was unable to tell you what was wrong. If you were unable to listen without getting scared and running off. You were back to square one. But worse than that, you were afraid everything was lost. 

“Everything we once had. I’m scared that it’s different now. That we spent too much time apart.” 

Your deepest, darkest worry. It hung heavy in the silence, mocking you. Yoongi stayed quiet, and you realised how far you’d crossed the line. Despite his understanding towards your relationship with Seokjin, he didn’t want to hear you drivel on. He didn’t want to counsel you. You sighed again, looking across at him. “I’m sorry. I need to find Lina, or just go home.” 

He shook his head, silently telling you it was okay. He was too nice for his own good. “Did something happen tonight?” 

You nodded slowly. “We had an argument.” 

To your surprise he scoffed in amusement. “An argument doesn’t mean the end.” 

Half an hour ago you were begging yourself to believe that. Lina and Yoongi were correct after all, but now? They hadn’t heard what Seokjin had said to you before he stormed off. It seemed pretty final to you. Your heart clenched in physical pain at the thought.  

“You should go talk to him,” Yoongi advised. “Tell him all this. Talk it out.” 

“I can’t. It’ll end in another argument.” Or Seokjin would just confirm your worst fears. You bit down on your bottom lip, fighting the urge to cry. Repeating his words to you downstairs in your head. “He said what was the point.” 

“Hm?” 

You jolted, not realising you’d said it out loud. You shook your head. “He said what was the point in us trying to be together.” 

“He said that?” Yoongi sounded surprised. 

“He was right.” You tried to tell yourself. “We were just kidding ourselves. We made a mistake.” 

“We did?” 

The sound of Seokjin’s voice made you jump and you jerked your head up, seeing his figure in the doorway. He was staring at you, ignoring Yoongi by the side of you. “I came to find you and apologise.” 

You froze, dread filling you. How long had he been stood there, listening behind the door? What did he hear? All of it? Did it even matter? The damage was done. “Seokjin,” you exclaimed, standing up immediately. “I–I… I didn’t mean that—

“Never mind,” he bit, turning back to leave. 

“No, wait!” You called after him, but he didn’t listen. Seokjin–!” You rushed after him, unable to even give Yoongi another glance. In fact, you’d almost forgotten he was even there entirely. All that was on your mind was reaching Seokjin and trying to explain yourself.

You saw him turn down the staircase as you darted through the door and you called his name once again to no avail. When you were halfway down the stairs you only just caught a glance of him leaving the party and slamming the door behind him. You were already out of breath, the panic tightening your chest, but you continued to follow him, looking both left and right as you made it outside. The night air was chilly against your skin, but you couldn’t think of that now, not when you could see him in the near distance, storming ahead and away from you. 

“Seokjin,” you cried, taking off again. Your boots thudded against the sidewalk, just like your heart was against your rib cage. Maybe he was beginning to listen, maybe you were getting through to him, because you swear he was beginning to slow down. You definitely weren’t getting any faster anyway, so that wasn’t an option. “Please,” you called, now within a few feet away from him. “Will you just stop for moment!”

He spun around suddenly, catching you off guard and you stumbled back a little. He looked upset. He looked mad. And you realised the only reason he’d stopped was because he knew you wouldn’t let up.  

“Jin,” you pleaded, trying to catch your breath at the same time. His breathing was also a little heavy, you could hear it from here. “I’m so sorry. Please, just listen—

“Go back to him.” 

That caught you off guard. Of all the things you thought you’d hear it wasn’t that. You puzzled, not really comprehending what he meant. “We were just talking. I found him in there and he asked if I was okay. I was upset, Seokjin.” 

“No. Go back to him.” 

Your heart dropped, finally realising what he was getting at but unable to understand his reasoning. You stared at him, trying to read his face. You got nothing. “I don’t want to.”

“Why? He’s much better than me, right?” He scoffed. “Mr. Perfect.” 

You shook your head back and forth, unable to process what was happening. Where had this all come from? You’d never seen Seokjin like this, let alone heard him speak like this. The tone of his voice was unnerving. Not what you were used to. “What are you going on about?” Your voice was barely there. 

“You said so yourself.” He was blunt. “Yoongi’s perfect, I’m not.” 

When had you ever said that? You had never, ever insinuated, let alone said explicitly that Seokjin wasn’t perfect. He was talking nonsense, but he looked so devastated right now you couldn’t even get angry at him. 

You reached for him, attempting to caress his arm. “Let’s get out of here. We can talk.” 

He jerked out of your grip. “No.” 

“Seokjin, you’re drunk,” you told him sternly. Unable to think of any other way to get through to him. How much had he had to drink to speak this much bullshit? “You’re not making sense.” 

“I’m making perfect sense,” he insisted. “I can’t compare when it comes to him. You’re right. We made a mistake.” He took a breath, sounding sombre when he spoke again. “You made a mistake choosing me.” 

There was a pain in your chest. A sharp, piercing pain that took your breath away. “I never said that.” 

He looked you dead in the eyes, shrugging slightly. “I’m saying it for you.” And with that he was leaving again, walking away. Leaving you. 

“Seokjin,” you called, stood there there you were glued to the sidewalk, watching him go. He rounded the corner. “SEOKJIN!” But it wasn’t going to work. He was out of sight. He was gone. 

You stayed outside for a little while, your head a mess, tears pricking your eyes but unable to fall. You were trying to make sense of Seokjin’s words, but it was hard. You didn’t understand where it had all come from… That’s why you were so shocked. Is that what he’d been hiding all this time? Why he’d found it so hard to explain himself earlier? He didn’t think he was good enough? 

Glancing down the street, towards Namjoon and Hoseok’s place, you couldn’t face going back there. Being surrounded by people having fun. You couldn’t even face seeing Lina. Yoongi too. God, why had you even confided in him? Imagining Seokjin listening to all that made you feel sick. 

It was all sick. You suddenly understood. A sick coincidence, a sick irony. That Seokjin was the one overhearing you and Yoongi in the room the reverse had happened six months previous. The aftermath of the two situations were glaringly different. What happened that original night you were sure, was the reason of Seokjin’s insecurities regarding his feelings for you and your relationship. 

You couldn’t change the past, so what happened now? You felt hopeless. You felt scared. 

Written 2019-20. Reworked/Edited 2020 Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2020

#seokjin smut #bts smut #seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #fic:crystallised #floralseokjin:writings

[secondhand-trash]

Paper Cranes

A/N: I know I said this about literally everything I write but this is self-indulgence af because please I just want someone to rant to when I have writer’s blocks (which is all the time) you get me? (Also, I’m not saying you have to do it but I’m def attaching a paper crane tutorial so everyone can get the whole iMmErSivE reading experience)

Pairing: Takami Keigo x reader

Description: Your unconventional way of handling writer’s block caught the eyes of a certain bird boi.

Word count: 3838

Warning: mentions of injuries/hospital

Playlist:

What’s My Age Again?//Blink-182 (This is a Hawks song you can’t convince me otherwise)

I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor//Artic Monkeys

The Next Time We Wed//The Fratellis

-

You knew that there were more productive things you could be doing right now, sitting at the outdoor area of a cafe with a half-empty mug next to a laptop but your brain felt more like a pile of mush and every word you typed out in the last 20 minutes made you cringe, which was exactly why you stopped doing that all together.

Refusing to even look at the untouched word document on the laptop in front of you, you pulled out a pile of coloured square paper and started folding it in a routine you knew at the back of your head. You sighed as you stared at the small crane in your palm. Your odd habit of folding paper cranes whenever you got stuck on something came when you were so infuriated with not doing anything that you started toying around with the napkin provided by the cafe. After getting bored of bunching up the paper towel repeatedly, you started looking up easy origami tutorials to forge the sense that you actually did something and wasn’t wasting your time by making something presentable. You settled with the elementary school level crane and it became the only origami you were semi-decent at making. You kept all the cranes you made from your writing sessions at the cafe in a paper bag you carried around all the time. The bag was half full and you weren’t sure how to feel about it, knowing full well that it implied that you spent a lot of the time you planned to use on writing making little to no progress.

It had become a routine for you almost. Going to the cafe with your laptop and notes, ordering coffee with as much extra shots of espresso the shop offers, open your document, your brain stops working midway, shifting your focus to folding cranes as an outlet for your frustration and self-loathing. So productive, so good for your mental health-

“I thought you are supposed to be writing?”

Oh, all that and being interrupted by this oversized blonde pigeon.

You did not stop even when you heard the sound of the man in front of you pulling the chair and sitting down next to you uninvited. Pressing down on the paper to form the beak, you threw the origami into the paper bag with the rest of its friends before finally lifting your head to meet the amused gaze of the winged hero.

“And I thought that heroes are supposed to be real preoccupied with saving people and all that,” you said as you lifted your brow, “I’m really starting to question if you are getting any work done, how come you’re always around?”

Hawks laughed, attracting the attention of by passers as some of them gawked at the number 2 hero who was so casually sitting there with someone who looked like they wanted nothing more than to wipe his grin off his face. “What can I say? You’re my favourite writer and I’m just trying to urge you to put new stuff out there.” he said, not without adding a wink at the end and you groaned in annoyance. You weren’t gonna lie and say that you didn’t feel the slightest bit flattered when the charming hero approached you for the first time, saying that he read your work. But as he showed up more and more frequently and invited himself to watch and gave snarky remarks as you struggled, it was like Hawks was trying to get you to be annoyed at him deliberately.

“What’s with you and paper cranes anyways? Ever think about switching things up and fold something else?” he asked, reaching for one of your creations and fiddled with it curiously despite the glare you were sending him.

“Cranes require the least effort,” you said as you leaned forward to snatch it out of his hand and groaned when he pulled back with a knowing smirk, “not sure if you can tell but I’m already on the verge of a breakdown. I’m not gonna put even more stress into doing something that is supposed to take my mind off of my lack of productivity.”

You let out a defeated sigh and fell back onto your seat which only made his smirk grew wider. He examined the origami for a little longer and shifted his stare back at you, “Can I have one?”

“What? No!” you snorted and launched forward to take it back as he let his guard down. You gave the hero a disbelieved look as he gave you a childish pout that was so unfitted for someone of his status. Before you met him, you always thought of the pro-hero as a suave and respectable person. Well, you still sorta did, but to think that this man was someone people rely on was something that became hard for you to imagine, especially seeing how child-like he was in front of you.

“But whyyyyy,” Hawks whined and motioned to the paper bag on the floor next to you, “you had made so many! What difference will it make if I take one?”

“They’re all my children and I love every single one of them,” you said as you dramatically placed a palm on your chest where your heart would be at, “you are dead wrong if you think I’ll ever let someone take away one of my babies.”

Hawks snickered, “God, are all writers so weird?”

“I don’t know, are all heroes annoying?”

He threw his hands in the air in defeat, “Fine, I won’t force you to separate from your children.”

“Good.” you nodded as you threw yet another crane into the bag.

“As much as I like talking about your crane obsession, I need to get going. Still a long way to go until heroes can properly slack off.” he said as he got up and stretched. HIs wings spanning widely as he extended his arms, threatening to push your things off the table and hit you in the face.

You quickly dodged the assault of his wings and bent down to shield your precious laptop, “Mind your ducking wings, you blind goose.”

He let out a full body laugh at your insult and started walking away, only to turn on his heels as he heard you call out for him. “Hawks?”

“Yes?”

“Put it back.”

He groaned as he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket to pull out a tiny paper crane. He muttered something about you being telepathic while he let the origami slid from his palm into the paper bag where it belong and you couldn’t contain your grin despite your best effort.

You stared at the pile of paper cranes in front of you soullessly. If you were being self-deprecating and giving in to unhealthy coping mechanisms when you said you were on the verge of a breakdown before, you were seriously burnt out now. Usually, folding origami would give you the slightest bit of ease but it wasn’t working now. You could feel your head throbbing in pain as the blankness of the screen mocked you and you lowered your head with your eyes shut, trying to calm the stiffness in your brain just a little. You didn’t even pick up on the familiar sound of chair shuffling until a voice brought you back to reality.

“Wow, you must be really stressed out huh?”

With your forehead on the table, you groaned, “Not now, Hawks. Go bother some other civilian.”

”But you’re the most fun to be around!” he chuckled and you snapped your head up to stare at man. His laughter quickly died down under the gaze of your bloodshot eyes.

“What do you want, you featherbrained son of a birdspawn,” you grunted, “no. It’s not working. I can’t even find joy in insulting you anymore, this is bad.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” he said, concern contrasting with his lighthearted words, “are you ok?”

“Not at all. It’s like I don’t even know how to form proper sentences. There’s so many ideas floating through my brain but it just goes ‘error 404′ when I actually try to write it out,” you ran your hand through your hair as you went on with your rant, “I’m spiraling and I don’t know what to do. I’m in desperate need for a distraction.”

Hawks looked at you as you took a deep breath, being quieter than you ever remembered him to be. You put your tired gaze on him and that’s when the red feathers poking from behind his back caught your eyes. You weren’t exaggerating when you said you needed a distraction and right now you wondered how you had never took much interest in the winged hero’s trademark before.

“Can I touch your wings?”

“What?” his eyes widened at your sudden request, almost believing that he had misheard what you just said.

“Can I touch them?”

His shocked expression slowly faded and the corner of his lips slowly tugged upwards, “Never thought of you as the eager type.”

“Hawks, I swear to god-”

“At least try to buy me dinner first-”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, you hormonal rooster.” you bite back but immediately realized that you probably shouldn’t act so aggressive when you were asking for a favour and unknowingly whined, “it’s just, it looks so soft and I never really thought of it and I’m so hyperaware of everything right now that I just want to know what it feels like.”

Hawks fell silent for a moment. In all honesty, he had always been very iffy about anyone making contact to his wings. It was an important tool to his survival, not to mention extremely sensitive. But you looked so tired and beaten up that he just didn’t have the heart to reject you.

Hawks carefully extended his left wing to you and the way you perked up just a little made his heart swell. You leaned forward and lightly stoked a finger along the most outward feather of his wingtip. Chills shot down his spine as you felt the red feather gently and he had to physically restraint himself from shivering under you touch. Hawks was shocked when he almost let out a disappointed sigh as you pulled back, he didn’t even realize how much he enjoyed the gentle affection you were giving him.

You had seen him in action in news broadcast many times before and it amazed you how the razor sharp feathers he often used in fights felt like silk under the pad of your finger. You felt content for a split second before the thought of your untouched work slowly shadowed you short happiness once again.

“Did that help?” he tentatively asked and his heart sank as you let out a sigh.

“No,” you groaned, feeling bad that he let you invade his personal space just to help you but it didn’t work, “I’m starting to feel like I’m washing my entire career down the drain at this rate.”

It pained him to see his usually witty and sharp-tongued friend in this state. Hawks looked around to see if there’s anything he could do for you when the golden glow of the late afternoon sun gave him an idea.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you asked as the man grabbed you by your forearm and started pulling you up from your slumping position.

“I’m taking you somewhere.”

You were confused but his serious demeanor showed you that he was genuinely trying to help, “At least let me pack my things first.”

“Leave it here.” he said as he pulled you with him, completely clueless as to where you were going.

“You must be kidding me...” you said, now standing on the rooftop of a random building Hawks dragged you to.

“Do you trust me?”

“No offense but no.”

“And here I thought we’re getting somewhere,” he sighed before looking at you and the determined look in his eyes shut down all your attempts at protesting, “I promise this’ll help, just trust me for once.”

You felt your breath hitched in your throat at the way he looked so intensely at you, almost pleading in a way and it made your heart soft. Letting out a defeated sigh, you stepped closer to him and wrapped your arm around his neck. He locked his arm tightly around your waist and you could feel the heat radiating off his body at the close proximity.

“If you let go of me at any given moment, I swear I’ll turn you into a chicken casserole and eat it for dinner.”

“That’s my snarky little literary giant.” he grinned before taking off and you held on tightly to him. Almost burying your face in the crook of his neck, partly in fear of slipping down, but mostly to hide the faint blush on your face.

Hawks kept his promise and held you securely around your waist throughout the whole flight. Your heart was beating fast from the adrenaline of being so high up the sky but also because his face was merely millimeters away from yours. Feeling a bit more comfortable with the height after a while, you relaxed your neck and felt chilling wind on your face. You peered down to see that big city reduced to miniatures below you. It was a sight to witness.

“Not as bad as you thought, right?” his smooth voice rang from just above your eye and you felt your cheeks heat up, letting out nothing but a soft hum in response.

“We’re here.” Hawks gently put you down and you leaped onto the soft grass. You looked around to see that you were on a hilltop away from the central city. Turning around, you were immediately speechless.

“So, what do you think?” he asked, almost a bit nervous at your lack of response and he wasn’t even sure why he was so jittery.

The sun was sinking down, giving off an almost golden glow. You could see the skyline of the city from where you were at, the clear windows of the compacted buildings glistening from under the sunshine. The sound of cars speeding on the highway mixed with the occasional breeze from the soft wind eased the knot in your head, the fresh smell of grass made you sigh in content. You watched from afar as the entire city basked under the sunlight, emitting a soft radiance. It was majestic.

You gasped, “This is...”

“I always come here when I feel like I can’t keep going,” he said, “this sight never fails to lift me back up.”

You chocked out a gasp in awe, “It’s beautiful.”

You were looking at the sky, but he was looking at you. “It is.” Hawks whispered.

And even for just a short while, the sight and the comforting presence of him made you feel so much better.

You felt great. It had been a long while since you were last so inspired as you type away on your keyboard, not stopping except for the few times you paused to take sips of your coffee.

You looked at the words on the screen and hummed in satisfaction, pulling your shoulders back to relax the tensed muscles. You couldn’t wait to tell Hawks that it worked and you were making amazing progress.

Speaking of Hawks, where was that dumb bird anyways? He usually shows up around this hour but he was nowhere to be seen.

You looked around to see if you could find any sight of the familiar red feathers anywhere but stopped as you heard the chattering from the group of women sitting from a few tables away.

“Oh my god, have you seen the news? Absolutely horrifying!”

“I know right? It must be a really tough fight, Hawks was always so quick to capture a villain!”

You got immediately alerted at the mention of your friend. Your mind started racing, she said ‘horrifying’.

“Haven’t you heard? His agency put out a statement this morning saying that he had to take a break from work just to recover, that poor thing!”

You felt heat retreating from your face and your senses going numb. Slightly panicking, you rummaged through your bag for your phone and immediately went onto the news site once you got hold of it. Your eyes widened and you clasped your hand on your mouth at the gory photo attached to the article. You could not began to describe the twisting in your stomach when you saw the usually cheery hero being so beaten up, his glorious wings you tenderly stroked not so long ago now left with nothing but the long, thin bone of its main structure.

It hurt.

It hurt to see him like that and you hated how there’s nothing you could do for him when he went out of his way to help you when you were in need. That’s when you noticed the paper bag you brought with you out of habit. Quickly shoving everything on the table into your bag and threw it across your shoulder, you clutched the handle of the paper bag tightly in your hand, wondering if it would work if you just wished harder.

Hawks groaned as he twisted on his sofa. He had been forced to stay home after that particularly gruesome fight to allow both the injuries on his body and his abused wings to recover. To say that he was bored out of his mind would be an understatement. Flicking from channel to channel mindlessly, he sighed at how there’s nothing that could entertain him.

He wondered what you would say if you had saw him lying there like a dead fish, probably something along the lines of him acting like a slab of ‘dry, flavourless chicken breast’. He chuckled at the thought of your usual snarky attitude and felt even lonelier when he was once again reminded that he was confined in the concrete walls of his apartment, with no one but himself.

He almost flung himself at the door when he heard the bell rang, wincing in pain as he had forgotten about the main reason why he was on what he felt like house arrest.

Hawks opened the door to see his sidekick. “Morning Mr Hawks, feeling better?”

“Physically yes but I’m going to combust if I had to stay in any longer.”

The sidekick gave his boss a nervous chuckle, he had been working for the hero for long enough to know how on edge he could be when he was put out of action for too long. “Just for a little longer, the agency needs to make sure that you’ve recovered completely before letting you get back to work,” his sidekick quickly added upon seeing how Hawks’ face dropped, “actually, I’m here to bring you this.”

Hawks watched as his sidekick pulled out a paper bag that almost looked too familiar. “Someone gave this to me at the agency and asked me to bring it to you, must be some sort of fan gift.”

Bidding his sidekick goodbye, he quickly locked the door and opened the bag that felt quite heavy when he was holding it in his hands. Prying the bag open, his heart soared as he looked inside to find it filled up to the brim with paper cranes.

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you actually typing instead of folding cranes.”

“Hawks!” you immediately looked up when you heard his voice and the bright smile on your face that was in place of the usual sneer made his heart flutter, “You’re alive!”

You rested your chin on your palm as you watched him sat down. You would never tell him but it almost felt wrong to have the table all to your own for the past week.

“Gladly, I nearly died out of boredom,” you snickered and god, did he miss that sound, “thanks for the cranes. I had them put on a string and hanged in my office just so you know, really added some life to that place.”

You smiled, happy to know that your thoughts were properly delivered. He teasingly asked, “Thought you were hell-bent on never separating from your children?”

You shook your hand, grinning from ear to ear. “Nah, I figured you need it more than I do.”

Hawks raised his brow, “How’s that so?”

You chuckled nervously, pondering if you should tell him what it meant. Not knowing that he was well aware of the meaning behind the one thousand paper cranes you gave him, he just wanted to hear you say it out loud so badly.

“It means to wish for peace and health,” you wondered why you were suddenly so reserved when you spent most time with this man making fun of each other, “I just thought you would need extra of both of those.”

Hawks smirked. You were hiding the rest of the meaning deliberately and he was determined to get you to admit it.

“It only works when you do it for someone you really care for,” he said and he felt the pounding in his chest, “you care for me.”

He could see the blush forming on you face and it filled him with an unexplainable feeling of joy. “I never said I don’t.” you said with a smirk of your own, trying to brush away your sudden shyness.

“We both know it doesn’t work like that.” he tried to fake the confidence in his voice but deep inside, he was anxious to see your reaction to what he wanted to say.

“You like me.” that last part came out in a whisper but you could hear it clearly. Despite it having nothing but thin pin feathers, he could feel them stood up on his back in pure excitement as you didn’t object. His face almost hurt from smiling as he caught sight of the sheepish smile on your reddened face as you lowered your head to avoid his gaze.

“Does that mean I’m the father to your paper children now?”

“Don’t push it...”

He gasped, “We’re gonna make such beautiful crane babies-”

“Don’t push it,” you glared at him and quickly put on a smirk as you regained your usual composure, “besides, salmonella-ridden raw chickens can’t give birth to cranes.”

“That’s low,” Hawks put a hand to his chest, pretending to be hurt, “even for you.”

You could not control your laughter as he continued to say that you wounded his ego.

Oh, how you adored this bird boi.

Bonus

“Wait, where are you supposed to put this flap?”

“Just tug it underneath the other part.”

“What? But how do you make it into that shape?”

“You... Nevermind, having one artistic person is enough in a relationship.”

“No, you’re not leaving until you teach me how to make this stupid thing.”

“Don’t go insulting our children when it is clearly your lack of talent. Here, take this, it’s you in origami form. I made it while you were struggling.”

“..."

“...”

“It’s just a regular crane with two legs.”

“Exactly.”

(And here’s the tutorial that nobody asked for but I wanted to put in anyways so y’all can join in and make beautiful crane babies of your own)

#hawks x reader #hawks imagine #hawks #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bnha imagine #mha imagine

[painted-crow]

Snake vs Bird secondary?

This is a submission, so it's formatted a little differently. My line notes will look like this. Let me know if this is hard to read for anyone. -Paint

Just to get it out of the way, I'm a snake primary.

Secondaries:

The ones I'm not:

-I think badger secondary skillset is kind of cool, but rather than something that comes naturally it's something I'll occasionally make the conscious decisions to use, and the *value* set that goes with it is not me at all (use all the shortcuts! Minimize hard work as much as possible! Flit from project to project!)

Yep, not you. Cool beans. Might be a performance since you do turn it on? Up to you whether you care about that.

- occasionally, when trapped with no way out, I'll do a lion style "charge in". It feels like the desperate act of a feral animal, not my natural preferred style. Can't manage to make anything else work, charge in, worse thing that happens is we all die. Also re lion I do occasionally consciously fake it, like, I used to have a reputation as the blunt one who couldn't lie and despite being perfectly fine with lying I'd lean into it, having people think you don't lie is handy. I used to be the person appointed by unspoken group consensus to say the things that needed to be said but weren't socially acceptable, that kind of thing. But I'm not a lion primary (I honestly tend to feel slightly queasy reading lion descriptions, although I do have lions I admire)

Oh gosh, this bit is so Snakey. It's SO SNAKEY. Lol

(On the second pass, it almost seems like you're seeing others' opinions of you as a resource you can use...)

So now... Snake vs Bird secondary:

* I can't tell what the system is even talking about when it talks about collecting information because its useful or not. No, I don't waste my time on totally useless trivia.

It's less that you'd seek out random trivia, and more that some of your interests are maybe not super practical.

I was really into natural planted aquariums for a few years, and I thought they were really cool as an exercise in botany, chemistry, biology, aesthetics, and building a tiny ecosystem.

Is this knowledge ever going to be useful? Well, no, definitely not maybe some of the stuff I learned about what plants look like with various nutritional deficiencies...

Some Birds will focus entirely on their more impractical interests, others won't have any and their skills will all seem kind of utilitarian--but they will have picked them up out of interest, even if they really value their utility. I know a lot about computers and programming, and I picked that up partly because it's so useful, but I couldn't have gotten as far with it as I have if it didn't interest me.

On the other hand, I learn languages for fun, even if I don't have anyone around to use them on. Languages are just inherently useful. And I'm a writer, so like, pretty much everything is useful eventually, right?

I'm a writer too so I know what you're talking about, and this is a more solid justification than the example I gave above, but uh... this is a real good blanket rationalization xD

I read as much history as I can because it all goes into a big subconscious churn to make me have a better understanding of human nature.

This is very Birdy. I do something similar, but it's more psychology focused.

Does knowing why I pursue knowledge make it a model?

Nah. Knowing why they value something would just make a Bird value it more. Also, we're really likely to analyze why we like stuff, because analysis is kind of our jam.

If so, that's so deeply strange to me I guess I'm not a bird?

Right now I'm thinking you're a Snake with a strong Bird model. You seem reluctant to identify with it, whereas the Snakey traits you talked about in your "I'm not a Lion" section, you described with a kind of trickstery playfulness and I think you see them as more "you." With Bird you're almost defensive, like you're trying to assure me you're not boring and stuffy xD

But your Bird model seems strong. I think you'd be able to rely on it if your Snake ever Burned. That's a good thing.

* I never know what to answer on the "going in with plans" question of the quiz. I always have a few plans in advance, and they always have several blank spots marked "adjust based on what's happening". I can't imagine not having plans, it gives me anxiety, I can't imagine being too rigid about the plans, it gives me anxiety.

Yep, this still vibes as Snake with strong Bird model.

* I like to research and prepare in advance as much as possible. I was researching college majors when I was 12. I read all the choosing your career books, spent summers interning, and interviewed people about their jobs so I could feel safe choosing. I spent three years reading books and listening to podcasts about parenting before having my first kid so I'd know what I was doing (similarly, I spent years before marriage reading marriage therapy books and relationship skill books).

Oh hell, just @ me next time. This is more full of Bird shit than the windshield of a car that's been parked under a tree for the last 3 years.

And then, after doing as much research as possible, there's ALWAYS the moment when you have to say "screw it" and jump in blind as a bat anyway. That's just life. It's completely impossible in the actual moment to follow a plan, the plan always disintegrates at first contact with the "enemy" (but the process of making the plan, backup plan, and additional backup plan is important.)

There's that Snake again. I really wish I could do this. It'd be super useful.

It's starting to sound like your Snake is supporting your Bird rather than the other way around, which is surprising me. I was expecting you to start convincing me you were a Snake around about now, but you're doubling down on the Bird.

* there's a distinct feeling of 'turning on' my hyperawareness of my surroundings and ability to respond. Like, let's say I drift through life *highly* distracted by what's going on in my head.

Moooood.

But if I'm at a job interview, or giving a speech, or having an important social interaction, there's this sort of clear quiet feeling where I'm just trying to sense the room and respond on instinct. It sure feels like this might be what snake descriptions are describing, but it's only on sometimes.

That's how models work, or how they can work. I can see why you're confused.

* honestly reading snake description feels vaguely "aspirational" rather than "yeah, that's me" because I simply don't have confidence that I'm THAT good at grabbing opportunities or responding to chances. In the moment I can fatally hesitate for the crucial two seconds...

Also a model thing. You value it over your actual secondary, which explains why you want to identify with it more. I do this with my Badger model sometimes.

Actually, thinking about it, I essentially feel split. I feel I am both. I feel like my brain can be in plan mode or response mode. It cannot do both simultaneously, I need both modes, and I have no idea how I'm supposed to figure out which is one is my "type" ie more essentially "me". Response mode is more "natural", ie instinctive, when in use. Planning mode comes more easily, feels more comfortable, but of course that's because the inherent nature of planning mode is to happen in the safe spots, you don't plan mid-interview because that's when you're in "danger" and need to "respond".

You're taking your Bird for granted. A lot of people find planning REALLY stressful, and actually feel more comfortable in the moment. Or they like the slight feeling of danger.

Our society holds Bird up as "this is what intelligence looks like" and tells us we should all be that way. (It does this with Badger a lot too.) The result is that people who are good at it don't realize that it's not universal--and they think that seeing it as something particular to them is arrogant.

Effectively, it becomes invisible. We take it for granted and identify it by its weird quirks rather than its actual structure, which we've been taught is something everyone should be able to use easily.

Improvisational secondaries are going to feel more instinctive, almost by definition.

I don't know, I'm beginning to feel like I fundamentally don't grok either one or both of these secondaries and hence am so confused..

I think you're using Snake to support your Bird more than the other way around. You're more comfortable with Bird, and it's most of what you've focused on in writing this. So, after reading all of this, I think you're a Bird with a loud Snake model.

But if that doesn't jam well with you, you could just say "I have two secondaries." Traditional? No. But go ahead. If you feel like that's the truest description of you, then it probably is. Labels describe, they don't define. If it changes later, that's okay too.

Thanks for your question!

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