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brandyllyn · 3 years

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Flexibility (noun)

Poe Dameron / f!reader [no use of y/n]

Summary: Making Poe’s dreams of sex in an X-Wing come true. Alternatively: The things we do for those we love. Even if it means pulling a muscle.

Part of the "Goofballs in Love" Series of One-Shots: The Scoundrel’s Reward, Ghosts of Girlfriends Past, Flexibility (noun), Give me my sin again, Writing on the Wall

My Masterlist

Words: 3k (Read it on AO3.) [complete] Rated: Explicit Warnings: language. PiV sex. fingering. bruises.

"This is the worst idea you have ever had."

The metal of the X-Wing was cold against your back, Poe’s body in front of you warm against the cool night air. He had one hand on your hip, the other playing with the edge of the skirt you had put on for the occasion. His face nuzzled into your neck and you felt more than heard him laugh.

"Well that’s not even close to true."

You snorted, wrapping your fingers in his curls and pulling his mouth back to yours. "Ok then Flyboy, let’s get this going before I change my mind."

The grin he gave you was boyish and wide, grabbing your hand and pulling you over to the ladder. He took the steps quickly, glancing back at you a couple of times before he lifted the edge of the transparisteel and slid into the cockpit in one smooth movement. You paused, staring at him and then at the cockpit controls.

"Are you sure that it won’t…?"

Poe nodded, holding his hand out. "Half the engine is scattered across the hangar. Even if it was powered up it’s not going anywhere."

You took his hand and let him draw you towards him, saw him press his lips to your knuckles. You eyeballed the cockpit dubiously. "Poe, there is no way-"

"Yes there is," he cut you off, flattening himself against the nearly vertical seat. He gestured between his thighs, "Right here."

It was maybe eighteen inches of space between his chest and the flight controls. Maybe. But that wasn’t even the first problem. You leaned in, searching the cockpit for somewhere to put your feet. His hands were instantly around you, pulling you down before you had a chance to get any leverage and you tumbled face first into him, one of your knees landing on his thigh, the other leg still hanging out the side of the X-Wing.

"Oof, Poe!"

He groaned, trying to shift your weight and you felt a muscle in your leg pull in a way that muscle was never intended to.

"Poe stop, Maker I-"

"If you don’t move we won’t be having any fun for at least a week," he grunted and you suddenly realized that maybe your knee had landed higher than you thought. You braced your arms on the side panels, lifting and twisting your body until you were sitting in his lap rather than kneeling in it. It wasn’t comfortable. At all. One of your legs was bent between the two of you, sideways against his chest with your knee under his chin. The other leg stretched over his shoulder, ankle high in the air behind his headrest. The flight controls were digging into your back and you clutched at his shirt to relieve some of the pressure.

"This is-" you started but he cut you off.

"Sexy as hell."

Your eyes flew to his but he wasn’t looking at your face. He was looking at where your skirt had fallen back and he could see that you’d taken his advice and gone without underwear. You squirmed, trying to get comfortable and Poe helped. Well, "helped." He pulled at the leg pressed to his chest and maneuvered you until both your legs were over his shoulders.

"Oh yeah," he moaned, still looking down at you and you arched your back away from the control stick digging into your spine. He made a soft mmph noise, one of his hands sliding around to tuck between you and the offending object.

You huffed, letting your head and body fall back, forcing him to catch your weight with both arms. You could hear him laugh but you were staring up at the hangar ceiling. "Well? What now Flyboy?"

He pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee, his breath warm and tickling. "This is not exactly how I imagined it."

You either. Bent into a 'v'-shape in the cockpit of the X-Wing, your feet poking up into the air behind his head. "Really?" you asked, still limp across his arms, staring upwards. "This isn’t the sexy good time you were dreaming of?"

"Come on," he patted your ass, "let’s get your legs under you."

You grimaced, lifting your head finally to glare at him. "Close your eyes."

His brows drew together, "Why?"

"Because this is not going to be attractive and I don’t want you watching me while I do it."

"Honey I-"

"Close. Your. Eyes," you said it more forcefully this time, biting off every word and glaring at him. He dutifully closed them, the corners of his lips tilting upwards and if you could reach his face you’d kiss it off of him.

Groaning you gripped the edge of the cockpit, pulling yourself forward. You didn’t quite have the strength to lift yourself but Poe was there, hands cupping under you and pushing you upwards until you could get the leverage you needed to hold yourself up by your arms. One of your feet pressed to his shoulder and you heard him grunt but ignored it. This was his fantasy, he could deal with the mechanics of making it happen.

Glancing around, you propped your foot on what you hoped wasn’t an important control panel by his left elbow. Finally having some stability, you pulled your other leg towards you, but there was no comparable panel on his right, just smooth steel.

"Dammit," you mumbled, crouched and barely holding yourself up on your hands.

"Just put your knees by my hips," he offered and you glared at him. He couldn’t see it of course, he was being good and had his eyes closed.

"There’s nowhere to put my knees, your hips take up all the space."

He frowned, "Don’t make fun of my hips, you know I’m sensitive about that."

Rolling your eyes you managed to wedge one knee between him and the side of the X-Wing, hearing him grunt at the sharp pressure. "I’m not making fun of them. I’m stating a fact."

You took a deep breath and sent a prayer up before you made your next move. Lunging forward you managed to wrap your hands around the headrest, pulling your chest close to his. You still had one knee up by your ear, your foot propped on the panel. His eyes opened when he felt the seat jerk, his arms wrapping tight behind your back.

"Better?" You asked, one eyebrow raised.

He looked down at the awkward crouch of your body and you saw his lips twist into a smile. Then his face scrunched up and he started laughing even as he drew you close for a kiss. He tasted like joy and Poe and you loved it.

"Okay," he finally said after a minute, leaning his forehead against yours. "Maybe I didn’t think this through."

"No no," you corrected, shifting your weight slightly, "this definitely works, I think I just need to…" you lifted your right foot off the panel and quickly shoved your right arm under it and grabbed his bicep. It was even more uncomfortable but the bark of laughter the new position brought from Poe was worth it. "See?"

"Stop," he nuzzled his nose against yours, "you’re going to hurt yourself."

"Oh that ship has long since sailed," you muttered, wrenching your arm back out and trying to find a contortion that wouldn’t send you to the MedBay.

"Maybe if you face the other way?" He asked hopefully and you gave him an incredulous look. "What? I’m just saying that it might work better."

"You are lucky I love you," you grumble. "Okay, hold me up while I let go of the headrest. Otherwise I’m going to impale myself on the flight controls and good luck explaining that."

He laughed, arms tightening around you and you let go of your death grip on the seat and placed your hands on the sides of the cockpit again. Using your grip and his steadying hold you managed to lift yourself and lean forward.

"Oh this is nice," his muffled voice came from between your breasts.

"For you," you mumbled under your breath, pushing off with your foot and twisting so you were sitting on the edge of the cockpit, feet propped up across from you. Your knee caught the side of his head as you settled and he made a harrumph noise.

"Remind me to wear my helmet next time," he griped.

"Do not even start with me Poe Dameron," you cautioned, stopping for a minute to catch your breath, fingers rubbing at the bruise you knew you were going to have on your thigh.

His hand came up immediately to the same spot, soothing his fingers over it. "Honey, we don’t have to-"

"No," you cut him off. "I said I’d try and by the Maker I will. We will try every way your little heart can think of and when none of them work you never ask me again."

You could tell he was trying to hide his smile this time and you took a steadying breath before you twisted again, sliding down his chest and settling into his lap, your back to him and your feet propped up on the control panels. Your knees were bent awkwardly in the air but at least it was a normal amount of awkward.

"See?" he murmured into your hair. "This isn’t so bad."

It wasn’t actually, not that you were going to admit it. But you could already see the logistical problems in your future. "Yeah, this isn’t going to work either."

You could feel him pout, his hands cupping your breasts under your shirt. "Why not?"

"Because nothing is lined up."

"Just put your-"

"Poe I swear if you use the word 'just' with me one more time…"

He was quiet for a moment. Then he coughed, "I was going to say if you leaned forward a little?"

I love him, I love him, I love him. You repeated the mantra over and over as you searched for a way to wedge your feet around his legs, finally managing to gain some purchase. The flight controls dug into your stomach when you leaned forward and rested your forearms against the control panel. It wasn’t comfortable, not even a little - but you tilted your hips, arching your lower back, and suddenly everything did line up. You could feel it.

His hands tugged at your skirt and you felt the cloth sliding across your skin before it came loose and you were bare against him.

"Oh yeah," you heard him groan. His fingers wedged between you, trying to unfasten his pants. "Can you move forward-"

"No," came your short reply. "There is literally nowhere for me to go. I mean that."

"Not even-?"

"If I move any further forward I’m going to be riding the flight controls not you."

A beat of silence.

"That would-"

"No," you cut him off, glancing over your shoulder with a glare.

He looked utterly unrepentant. "It was just a thought."

"What did I say about that word?"

He was thankfully silent, his hands on your hips. You tried to ignore the sharp jutting presence of the flight controls in your stomach, the toggles and switches that were going to leave marks on your forearms from having your weight rest on them. You heard him heave a sad sigh.

"Should have taken my pants off before you sat down."

"Oh now you’re thinking about the mechanics of this."

He pinched your hip and you squirmed. Then, in the saddest voice you’d ever heard from him, "I guess this isn’t going to work."

You hung your head for a moment, the controls shifting slightly to jab into your abdomen. Then you huffed a breath of air.

"You’re going to have about six seconds to get your pants open. Can you do that?" You barely waited for his reply before you lunged forward, fingers scrambling across the control panel for purchase, lifting yourself just a few inches off of him. The flight controls were hard against your pubic bone, and it probably wasn’t even six seconds before your fingertips gave out and you fell back into his lap with an oof.

One of his hands was still there but he managed to wriggle it around a bit. You could feel his nose nuzzle your spine through your shirt. "One more time for me?"

"I hate you," you mumbled, trying something different this time. Finding something you could press down on and lift yourself up rather than forward.

"You love me," he corrected, hand stroking along your backside and helping you lower yourself more slowly, taking his cock one inch at a time. "You fucking love me and I am eternally grateful for it."

It still wasn’t comfortable. But you were used to discomfort. That was part of being at war. Hells you’d even been shot. You could take some annoyances and discomfort for the man who was making the most amazing little noises behind you. Grinding his hips up into yours. One of his hands groped your breast under your shirt, the other trying to guide you against him. But all he succeeded in doing was rubbing the edge of the flight controls into you.

"Poe, this isn’t-" you started and he froze, his cock twitching inside you.

"What is it?"

You pulled his hand forward, turning it so he was covering the edges of the controls with his palm. That was better. Still like being slowly punched in the gut when you rocked back on him a little but at least it didn’t hurt. And you could tell he appreciated it too, his fingers pinching your nipple and his forehead falling to your back.

"Are you going to be able to-?"

"Not on your life." A huff of laughter and then a groan when you tightened your muscles around him. "But that’s fine by me. This is all for you."

"You’re so mmph good to me."

"Just remember this the next time I want you to wear something special for me."

"I’ll, fuck, I’ll wear anything you want," he promised. His breaths were coming faster, small grunts escaping him while he made what little movements he could in the cramped space. A sudden thought occurred to you and you arched your back a little more, letting him sink deeper.

"Black Leader…" you drew the words out on a breathy sigh.

He froze, his hand on your breast gripping almost painfully. Then his hips rocked up hard and you felt the breath get knocked out of you. "Fuck say that again."

"Fuck me Black Leader." You moaned it this time. Every part of your body might be aching and sore, but between your legs his cock was magic.

"Never gonna be able to fly again," he mumbled into your shirt. "Crash every time I think about this." You bit your lip and squeezed down, flexing every muscle you had on him. His answering groan filled the cockpit. His body was hunched over yours, "This is amazing. Fuck, you’re amazing."

"Black Leader you feel so good inside me." You cooed the words at him, purposefully making your voice low, breathless.

"Fuck I’m going to come." His breath fanned across your spine, hot and harsh even through the material of your shirt.

"Come for me Black Leader," you groaned and he did, hips pushing into yours, forcing you into the cockpit controls. You were going to have bruises for days and every one was worth it for the way this man held you and came inside you. Shuddering his pleasure into your body.

You both felt and heard his body fall back into the seat, leaving your back cold. Carefully, you shifted your position, pushing off the control panel and moving back. You felt him slip out of you then slide wetly along your ass when you leaned back and settled your head on his shoulder.

"If only this seat reclined," you sighed and felt him laugh when he wrapped his arms around you.

"If we’re going to make wishes, I wish this damn flight control was removable."

You glared down at the offending object, sticking up obscenely from between your spread thighs. A bubble of laughter spilled from your lips and you felt him doing the same, reaching up and turning your head to kiss you. You darted your tongue out to his lick his lip and then jerked in his arms when his hand lifted your skirt again.

"Poe…"

"What?" he asked, all innocence, his fingers unerringly finding your most sensitive places.

"Nothing," you sighed. "Don’t stop."

"I wouldn’t dream of it," he whispered into your ear. "You’re so good to me, you know that?"

You smile, raising your arms and settling them on the headrest behind him. "I think I might have heard something like that before."

He chuckled as he lifted your shirt, cupping your breast even as his fingers continued to tease between your legs. "Hmm? And have I told you today that I love you?"

"You know," you shifted slightly and gasped, "I don’t think you have."

He kissed your neck, fingers stroking with sure rhythm between your thighs. "I love you."

"I love you t-" your voice broke when you came. You heard his satisfied groan behind you, felt him press his face into your neck while you rode his hand through your pleasure.

You didn’t move when you came down, just lay against him and enjoyed the soft brush of his fingers on your breast, your stomach, your thighs. He stroked you lightly, occasionally stopping to run his fingers over the marks and developing bruises from where you had been pressed to the controls. He murmured apologies into your ear, so low the words rumbled through you and you sank back into his embrace further - convinced you could fall asleep like this.

His voice broke into your gentle reverie. "Now how do we get out of here?"

Giggling, you didn’t bother to move. You figured out how to get in. He could figure out how to get out.

#Poe Dameron / You #poe dameron / reader #poe dameron x you #Poe Dameron x Reader #poe dameron imagine #star wars sequels #star wars fanfiction #goofballs in love series #fic #writing

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ajbwasntwriting · 3 years

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Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 13. Flames

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(we using the same gif cause I couldn’t get the bridge gif to work sorry no sorry)

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

Soon the camp was left near barren. The saviours had made up more than half the work force and as far as it seemed you were the only one left. You spotted Daryl sitting in front of a white tent eating an apple. You bee-lined past Eugene and Rick to him, sitting on the chair just opposite from him.

“Hey” Daryl greeted you warmly. You just smiled at him then went back to staring in the middle ground, leaned down in the chair and your arms crossed. You sat there in peeved silence for a moment, just not wanting to be alone right now. “Heard the yelling match you had-”

“Don’t” You said, closing your eyes and shaking your head in annoyance. “I feel stupid enough as is.”

A hand landed on your knee and Daryl’s gruff voice said “You ain’t stupid, Darlin’”

That made you smile whether you liked it or not. You looked at him through the side of your eye, leaning forward and looking at you with so much love. “Darlin’, huh?” you commented on the new pet name. You uncrossed your arms and took his hand in yours, ignoring how sticky it felt from the apple he was eating. “I could get used to that.”

“Anything I can do for you? You name it, I’ll make it happen.” Daryl said.

“Just sit with me a while.” You droned, clearly exhausted. “Before you gotta up and go again.”

“‘Course” he reassured you, kissing your knuckles. You detached your hands so he could finish his apple and you were happy to sit with him. The noise of the camp was gone and there wasn’t anything you could do, but with Daryl you always felt at ease. Though something seemed off about him. A kind of anger was boiling under your skin. Maybe he was pissed the Saviours up and left too.

Jerry arrived back on horse and was talking to Rick. You didn’t bother yourself with it but Daryl’s interest seemed to be piqued. Especially when he walked by talking rapidly into a walkie talkie. You tuned into the conversation out of curiosity.

“I need you to get an urgent message to Alexandria… If Maggie Rhee shows up, delay her at the gate and alert Michonne right away. Do not... repeat… do not let her in without an escort. Over”

“What’s happening?” You asked Daryl. He didn’t look at you as he stood up. You stood up after him and walked behind

“And, Maggie, if you're listening… let's talk.” Rick tucked the walkie back into his belt.

“Hey. What’s goin’ on?” Daryl asked as he approached.

“Maggie's headed to Alexandria.” Rick explained.

“Is that bad?” You asked.

“She's about do something she might regret.” Rick explained further, grabbing the horse.

“Hop on. I'll take you.” Daryl said.

“You sure? We got enough fuel?” Rick asked, already moving to Daryl’s bike

“Yeah. We’ll get there quicker.” Daryl said, climbing onto the bike. “I’ll be back soon, Darlin’” he called to you.

“Better be in one piece” you shot back.

“I’ll make sure of it, Y/N!” Rick replied. You watched as they took off down the road, leaving you in a crumbling camp.

You wandered around the camp, finding the Alexandrians had left too and what was left of hill top and oceanside were scattered with talk of leaving. You eventually came upon Carol. She was packing up with a group you recognised as the kingdom's people. “You leaving too?” You called, grabbing her attention. You settled onto the heel of your feet and placed your hands into the back pockets of your hips, watching as she asked a nearby man to finish packing up the crate.

“This place is bust, Y/N” She said, walking towards you. “I know you tried earlier but-”

“Yeah” you hissed through your teeth. “I get it.” She looked away, seemingly embarrassed. “You're going back to the kingdom I see.”

“There’s room on the wagon if you want” Carol offered, seemingly remorseful.

“No.” You replied “I told Sanctuary I’d be back.”

Carol shook her head in disbelief then chuckled as she threw her head to the sky then back to you. “I don’t get it. You hated it there!” She expressed while you nodded along in agreement. “But you wanna go back?”

‘I was trying to cover my ass but now everyone who knows me is dead’ you thought. Though that wouldn’t fly. Your childhood made you an adept liar though. ‘No granny those aren’t vomit stains on the carpet I just spilled my porridge. Yes, I eat porridge now.’

“I was scared. And lonely. But in time it got less so.” you explained, not breaking eye-contact. “I don’t know the Saviours you knew, but the ones I know appreciate my work. And they’ve got nothing. I had nothing and Daryl came to me, gave me a shot. I wanna extend that to them.”

“We won’t help,” Carol said. “Too many people were hurt.”

“Well if you’re gonna turn away starving children and hard working people,” You retorted. “We’ll go elsewhere.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” Carol chuckled.

“Right back at ya,” you turned to leave and pack your things when Carol called you. She came up to you and offered you a revolver and a belt holster.

“You’ll need it,” she said. You took the belt and weapon.

“Thanks, Carol.” You said. She pulled you into a hug that you returned with gusto then parted so you could pack your things.

You didn’t have much, mainly your knife and the clothing on your back but Enid had forgotten some valuable supplies in the infirmary. Between that, the change of clothes you had and a couple apples you had hidden away in your tent for later, your bag was bare.

You were about to set out and start dismantling one of the tents to bring back when you heard bullets fly. You immediately got low to the floor and pulled out your gun, checking if it was loaded.

The rounds sounded too rapid to be one sided. You walked out the back of the tent and noticed the shoot out. It was a small group of saviours going after Carol’s group. You took a deep breath and ran out of the tent and behind a nearby tree, then peered out the side and took two quick shots at the group. You managed to hit one and the larger group was now caught off guard. In the time it took you to unload the barrel you downed another two and the fire fight had ended with Carol’s group victorious and a number of the Saviours running back into the woods. They disappeared as quickly as they appeared. You ran over to Carol’s group.

“Is everyone alright?” You asked.

“They got Fred!” one of the hilltoppers yelled. You looked at the armoured body and knew in an instant he was gone from the axe wound alone.

“You gotta come with us,” Carol said to you. “The shots would’ve attracted the herd.”

“Alexandria’s the safest bet with the way that herd is moving” Jerry put in.

“Alexandria it is then,” you agreed, helping load up now. The tents were abandoned. Someone from Oceanside radioed that the camp wasn’t safe but no one checked for a response. Everything was loaded up and the carriages were moved.

Off in Alexandria, in someone else’s world. Maggie entered the dark basement cell. Her face was illuminated by what little light creeped between the shutters. Negan chuckled.

“Aw, she just gave up the keys, huh?” He jested “It's a shame. She got the blade, but you...You got the fire. My money was on you.”

Maggie looked into his cell. He sat on his bed, shrouded in darkness. “So you remember me.” She spoke into the darkness”

“'Course I do.” Negan Replied “It's why I thought you were gonna win.”

“Good.” Maggie swallowed hard, emboldening her resolve. This was it, she was going to give this monster what he deserved. “Get on your knees.”

“You know, I remember you screamin' in that clearing.” Negan muled aloud, standing up and walking closer to the bars yet not completely out of the darkness “I remember how much I broke you breakin' open your husband's head like I did.”

“Glenn.” Maggie snapped “His name was Glenn.”

“So now what? You finally come for…” Negan paused for intentional dramatic effect “revenge?”

“Justice.”

“Damn.” Negan gasped “Thought you'd do this a hell of a lot sooner. It take you this long to work up your nerve?

“I was always gonna settle this,” Maggie retorted, her voice growing in volume “what you did to my husband. Get on your knees.”

“What I did to him?” Negan pressed “You mean how I cracked open his skull and popped out his goddamn eyeball? How I bashed his big, beautiful brains into the ground over and over while you and his little friends watched? Is that what you mean?

“Ah, I used to say that I didn't enjoy killin'.” Negan sighed with satisfaction “That was a lie. Your old man… Christ, I forgot his name again. But he was different. Killin' him the way I did, ooh, now, that was fun.”

Maggie pressed the key into the lock, the teeth rolling over the internal mechanisms echoing in the dark cell. Negan took to his knees, as had been requested of him.

“Get to it. Have your justice. Kill me. It was worth it.”

“Lemme see you in the light.” Maggie demanded.

“Come on.” Negan beckoned her on “Kill me.” She turned the key, the lock clicking loudly. “You not have it in you?” Negan teased “Don't you punk out like Rick.”

“Come into the light.” Maggie demanded again.

“Kill me. This is what you came here for!” Negan demanded, his tone becoming desperate “You kill me!”

“Move into the light.” Maggie spook through her teeth, peeved.

“Kill me.” Negan’s head went down and he began to cry. Maggie finally lost her patience, pulling the door open and tearing Negan from his cell and into what little light there was in the room.

“Please. Please.” Negan began to beg. He was disheveled and cowering on the floor in a useless pile. “Please kill me.

“Why?” Maggie asked

“You have to. Just do it.”

“You tell me why!” Maggie began to yell at him “Tell me! Why should I?!”

“So I can be with my family!” Negan cried out “So I can be with Lucille! And with my Y/N!” Negan sobbed silently.

“I should be dead.” He began to ramble “I have to be dead. And it's supposed to be you. It has to be you, because I can't do it. I can't do it. I've tried. I can't. I can't be like this. Please, please don't make me stay like this. It's... Settle it.” He was so distraught every other word he was gasping for air. “Settle me. Kill me. Please.”

“Get back in your cell.” Maggie ordered

“No.” Negan protested from the floor where he lay “No. No. No.” He sobbed “Why?”

“I came to kill Negan,” Maggie said “and you're already worse than dead. That settles it.” Negan hid his face as he sobbed “Go.” she ordered.

He knew better than to argue with her, especially how she pulled him out of the cell without breaking a sweat. “It wasn't supposed to be like this.” He protested weakly, “It wasn't supposed to be like this.”

With that Maggie locked the gate and left the cell, content that her husband’s murderer was suffering.

“What the hell was that?” One of the kingdom’s people said when they were far enough away, clearly talking to you. In their eyes you were the last saviour. They strode up behind you.

“I don’t know” You muttered, pulling one of the horses along the road

You were walking as fast as you can, basically dragging the horses and carriages and this man wanted to fight. “What do you mean you don’t know!”

“I don’t know!” You yelled back, continuing to move. “People do stupid shit when they’re scared!”

“They killed Fred!”

“We killed them!” You finally let go of the horse and turned around to face the man. “And you’ve been killing them for a long time!”

“You don’t know what they-”

“The war?” You cut him off “I know that there is a factory full of people who are starving, working their ass off to get you ethanol, and have no protection.” You were too caught in the moment to notice the wagon train had stopped moving and too angry to hear Jerry and Carol calling to you “Not fighters! Workers! People who didn’t get a chance to defend themselve in your precious fucking war and are paying the price for it!”

Horses trotted up to meet you halfway in the road. You recognised Maggie, Eugene, Tara, and Michone and a few others. Daryl rode up from the back of the group on his bike.

“What happened?” Maggie rode up to the group and asked Carol.

“Saviours jumped us. Ended up shooting each other.” Carol explained. “The gun fire could’ve attracted the herd so we left.”

“Where’s Rick?” Daryl asked.

“He’s not with you?” You shot back.

“What if he headed back to the camp?” Beatrice, a girl from Oceanside, pitched. You could feel the panic set in the group. Daryl disembarked from his bike.

“I know a shortcut. Come on!” He lead the way into the forest. You and a large group instantly took off on foot, following him closely. Within minutes you were back at the bridge to a horrifying sight.

Countless walkers were crossing the bridge. The herd was so thick no sunlight was travelling through and standing at the end of the bridge, with all those walkers heading right towards him, was Rick. Daryl already had his bow out and was picking off the walkers that got too close to his friend.

“What is he doing?!” Maggie yelled.

“He's hurt!” Michone cried. You noticed his clothes were soaked in blood

“That herd that went right through Hilltop.” Daryl gasped “He's trying to bring down the bridge.”

In the next instant Michone had her sword out and was running towards the herd. You called after her and ran after her.

“We turn them around. Fight 'em back.” Maggie followed close behind you

“Fire your guns.” Carol ordered “Try to divert them.

Michone called to Rick as you all ran to the herd, but a moment later the herd caught in flames. Michone stumbled back as the orange heat climbed above your heads. She stood there a moment, shocked into place. You looked through the flames and felt yourself thrown back into your army days.

Rubble and sand were all around you. The air was heavy with debris. It was you, five other servicemen and countless civilians trapped into a crumbling building while bullets flew outside. Children were crying and parents could do nothing to calm them. There was a moment of calm. A moment to get the group through a gap in the rock fall near the back of the building. You got them through while the others lay down ground fire, keeping the enemy at bay. You pulled yourself through the hole after the last of the civilians made it out and went about helping your fellow soldier. They were nearly clear when an explosion went off in the building and you were both sent backwards. You could feel the heat from the explosion on your face, but your ally could feel their life seeping out of their lost leg. He screamed out in complete agony.

The same way Michone screamed out. When you felt yourself come back you noticed Maggie and Carol were holding her back and you had fallen to the ground.

“Y/N!” Tara yelled to you, pulling the rest of you into the present “We have to go!” You nodded rapidly and pulled yourself to your feet. You all retreated back a ways so the herd wouldn’t come to you right away.

“I need to find him,” Michone sobbed. “I need to help him.”

The smoke was rising above them in thick clouds. The radio was going crazy with people who were seeing the smoke.

“What was that?”

“Was that the bridge?”

One of the people with you got on the radio. “Rick!” he called breathlessly “He blew it to stop the herd!”

Everyone around you was in shock and crying horribly. These people had followed Rick, and now they seemed lost. You were in no way a leader but-

“We can look downstream.” You spoke up. Pale and contorted faces looked back at you. “If he fell in the water he’ll be downstream… If he got hit by the blow back he’ll be on the road bu-”

“You heard her.” A man with long hair in a bun and a beard. His face was red but he was already tired of crying “Downstream.”

“I gotta-” Michon spoke, shaking as she got back to her feet. The man beckoned her. In the next moment a small group had run past to look downstream.

“I gotta go to Sanctuary” You announced to those left. Carol nodded, tears streaming down her face. “They gotta know what happened here.”

“Go,” she croaked out, “and bring them back to kingdom.” Beatrice immediately got angry at the notion but before she could speak Carol silenced her. “Without that bridge they’ll starve. Rick didn’t fight for that.” Carol looked back at you. “Go.”

~Tag List~

@felicisimor @bodeckersbitch @lauren-novak @aestthete

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

heart+head(ache), m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: Like the seasons, the highs and lows come and go. Unlike the seasons, the lows are unpredictable and multiplicative, because life is not just one aspect, but many. If there's one person that can be your heart, it's Min Yoongi. If there's one person that can occupy your head, it's Jeon Jungkook.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; fluff / comfort, then PWP; smut (fem reader, nipple play, scratching / marking, fingering, hair-pulling, penetrative sex); softdom!Jungkook

this series has always been the personification of Yoongi and Jungkook as my muses. therefore it's not really a story, but rather a glimpse into my emotional state at the time it was written (about two weeks ago). I thought about not posting it, but, hey, you can choose to read it or not. I don't expect anyone to read it, tbh.

heartspace!Yoongi - his POV

"Leave me alone."

He sat down, silent, beside the hunched form.

"I can't take it anymore."

The only light came from the desk above them, the laptop screen blaring brightly in the darkness.

"I want to go back to the way it was."

He reached up and touched her knuckles, rubbing his fingertips over them.

"Back when no one knew I existed. Back when no one wanted to get in my head."

Over the silver rings, tracing reach one, decoration and armor, mirroring the outward self that protected the one inside. The fragile one that hid from the outside world. She let him see the fragility in this space, but only in this space. Her nails dug into her skin, tearing it up from the outside as the thoughts inside tore her to shreds.

"I don’t want these wings. I don’t want to fly high."

He waited, quietly, saying nothing, hand on hers. In this space, it was only him and only her.

The heart and the heartless.

"I don’t want to be in this light..."

Her eyes found his and he looked back, into shadowed orbs clouded from struggling for far too long and would continue to do so until she was no more. That was the way of the world, persistent and hurtful for no reason at all.

Time heals all wounds, but some wounds are blind to time, stagnant and frozen.

"I don't know the difference between pretending and not pretending anymore," she whispered, so quietly that he had to strain to hear.

He finally spoke, squeezing that thin hand gently.

"In some ways, they're the same thing for you, aren't they?"

She looked at him for a long, long time.

He lifted his hand from hers and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers.

“You are with me,” he murmured. “And with me, you can be anything.”

This face hid behind smoke and mirrors. This face didn’t trust the world and trusted their own reflection even less. The world could pretend to know, but the reality was the depth of the scars was much deeper than anyone could ever fathom and this mind was unlike anyone else’s, too creative for its own good, producing new and intricate tortures for the one that lived within it. Only here, in this space, did he have a glimpse. Even then, he wasn’t sure he would ever see all of it, because that wasn’t necessary and because some shadows should stay in the dark where they belong.

"I can't be like them, Yoongi."

Min Yoongi shook his head.

"They're ordinary. You're special."

"I'm not."

"You know you are, otherwise no one would find solace in knowing you exist."

He held her face in his hands.

"Nameless, faceless, and yet... they flock to the safety of you."

He leaned forward, forehead to forehead.

"Who else can say that? No one. Not even me. Everyone knows my face now."

Into dark, dark eyes full of pain, reaching in, shouldering the weight so it was a little lighter, a little less heavy. He didn’t need to know the reason for the weight. It was there, and so he assisted.

"They'll never know the one I know."

A little despair, a little helplessness, all her.

"I'll never know the one you know."

He kissed her, softly, whispering her name and his love.

“If you think you can’t feel, then I will feel for you. If you ever feel like you don’t have a heart, know that I will be yours. Trust me.”

“Can I?” she breathed against his lips, eyes closed, lost in his taste.

Yoongi chuckled, running his hands through her hair, breathing in the scent of sweet matcha marshmallow, deeper, richer, warmer now that it was soaked into her skin, smooth and soft under his fingertips. She was like that. Everything she touched became more vivid, more alive, more real, even if it was only a fantasy.

“Of course. You are with me.”

He pulled her into his hold, into his lap, both of them still on the floor, cradling her at her lows so he could raise her at her highs.

“However long you need, one day, one week, one month, a year, until the end of time… I will be whatever role you need me to be. Obsession, possession, enemy, protector, muse, lover, one of them or all of them,” he murmured softly, lips on her temple, hand on the left side of her ribcage, cradling that rapid rhythm under his fingertips.

It was easy to say, don’t think about anyone else, but much harder to do so, and thus he didn’t say it. There was no need to. She already knew. That’s why she had retreated in the first place, retreated to the safety of his heart and blocked out the outside world.

“They are but visitors and they should be grateful to visit.”

Her fingers twisted into his shirt, clutching the fabric tightly.

“But I am, can, and will be everything you need, if you let me.”

She spoke into his neck, her hot breath wafting over his skin.

“You already are, Yoongi. You already are.”

They stayed like that, for a long, long time.

headspace!JK - reader's POV

You opened your bedroom door to find Jeon Jungkook laying on your bed.

His dark brown eyes shifted to you.

You looked away and closed the door.

“Where have you been?”

Every time. Every time you heard his smooth, silvery voice, you were reminded of home, even if he wasn’t always here. Then again, home was never a place to you. Like a permanent resident, Jungkook always managed to find his way to your bed and you, well, you resided with his voice.

“Who knows,” was your answer.

Because, in truth, you didn’t know.

Jungkook tilted his head, pink lips slightly parted. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He sat up, watching you, black strands brushing against his dark brows. There was a slight furrow to them, somewhere between disbelief and inquisition. White t-shirt, blue jeans. He hadn’t been here long, otherwise he would have given up on the jeans. His eyes followed you, resting his right arm on his knee, black tattoos standing out against the light wash of the jeans and white-shirt, tan skin the perfect background for them. With the red eyeball tattoo, perhaps it was more accurate to say that three eyes were observing you.

You stood beside the bed but didn’t get on it.

Jungkook let out a soft sigh, the side of his lips quirking up ruefully. “If I was hyung, I would say the right words.” He frowned slightly, chewing on his lower lip, tiny mole underneath flashing into view, a soft kiss from the moon, perfectly placed in the middle. “He always knows what to say.”

You could almost hear that gentle, deep voice murmuring to you, hand on your chest, right above the rapid rhythm below his palm.

You always say it’s nothing when it’s something you know no one will understand.

Jungkook placed his chin on the back of his hand and looked up, catching your eye and pulling you from your thoughts with his voice.

“I don’t know what to say, but I can make you feel.”

You looked back, but still didn’t get on the bed.

“You cut your hair.” It was to his ears now, still black, just shorter.

“Mhm.” He smiled. “Do you not like it?”

You chuckled dryly. “You could be bald, Jungkook, and you would still look good.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Someday I’ll show up like that and then I’ll know if you’re telling the truth.”

You didn’t laugh or banter back, settling into silence instead. He noticed right away. His features softened and he raised his other hand to beckon you to him.

You didn’t move.

His lips formed to the words and you could tell he meant them because he maintained eye contact, not letting you avoid his gaze.

“I missed you.”

Where have you been?

You placed your hands on the bed, fingers spread, silver rings glinting in the light, lighting each and every one, all except your left pinky. You still hadn’t found the perfect one for that one yet. The three silver necklaces you wore clinked together as you crawled to Jeon Jungkook, mind full of thoughts that fell away one by one, replaced by the sight, sound, smell of Jungkook, tongue remembering his taste, skin prickling, remembering his touch.

“I could have distracted you,” he whispered, leaning forward.

“I wasn’t the best version of myself,” you whispered back, the dull ache of intangible weight pressing down on your ribcage. “I couldn’t see you like that.”

He lifted his right hand from his knee and reached around your head, burying his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer to that face and those eyes, sharp and defined with an endearing softness, lashes lowering, inhaling your scent, lustful satisfaction clouding his gaze as he once again recognized that you had changed it from that spiced, warm chestnut to a heady matcha marshmallow.

“You know,” Jungkook breathed, tugging you to him, his lips brushing against yours. “I am here for all versions of you, good or bad, sad or mad, fallen apart or all in one piece.”

His teeth nipped your lips and your breath caught your throat, knowing he was making you wait, curling his fingers in your hair to hold your head in place.

In this space, with him.

“If your head is full of me, there’s no space for the other thoughts.”

“That’s not how it works, Jungkook.”

“That’s how I want it to work.”

His lips captured yours, firm, intense, hand pulling you to him and his hard body, surrounding you in his embrace, your gasp in his mouth as he pressed you to his chest, pinning you down, forearms flexing against the small of your back, your hands coming up to steady yourself on his shoulders, digging your nails into the thin fabric of the t-shirt. You shivered in his hold, eyes opening slightly, not realizing they had closed, and his were open too, filtered by his lashes.

“I don’t want to go back out there,” you said, so softly that the words didn’t seem real.

“Then don’t,” Jungkook whispered. “Stay with me.”

“You’re not good for me.”

“They’re worse.”

He spread his legs and put you in his lap. You could feel the texture of his jeans through the thin fabric of your pajama shorts, thighs on top of his, softness to hardness. His fingers traced the lapel of your pajama shirt and the red piping, smiling at the print, little red devil heads making various faces against the black jersey fabric.

“You’re insufferable.”

The small smile lifted and now it was yours, turning into a smirk. “Yeah, but you love me.”

You stared into those eyes, that face, trapped in his arms, his body, his voice, his sound, everything just Jeon Jungkook, and the hesitation remained. You felt his hand shift, raising, fingertips brushing your cheek, sending shivers up your neck and to his electric touch.

“I couldn’t come back because it didn’t feel right.”

His hand lowered, cradling the side of your neck, thumb stroking your jaw.

“What about now?” Jungkook asked, silvery and sweet.

You told the truth, because the truth was eating away at you.

“I don’t know.”

He turned his head and leaned in, inhaling your exhale, eyes closing.

“I’ll help you know.”

His kiss.

I want to be your everything.

He made you memorize the shape of his lips, made you memorize the weight of his hands, made you memorize the curve of his shoulders and chest, pushing you down on the bed, your hands sliding down and pressed to his chest, palm to his heavy heartbeat, hungry kisses and fleeting tongue teasing you, the lower half of his body pinning yours down. Heavy. Inescapable. You tried to move away to speak but he caught your lips, pulling your back, his left hand peeling your right off his heart and interlocking his fingers with yours, slamming it down on the sheets, his right snaking in between your bodies, undoing the buttons one by one. You cried out into his mouth and he lifted his head, black hair messy, breathing hard.

“J-Jungkook…”

His lips were dark, swollen from kissing you so fiercely, irises shadowed and pupils expanded.

“This is how it should be, with you saying my name like that.”

You glared at him, but he simply chuckled, diving back down again, lips attacking your neck, kisses and bites that made your breath hitch, clutching fistfuls of his shirt, and it didn’t matter, it simply didn’t matter anymore, too many outside thoughts when you could just have Jungkook invading your head, clawing the hem of his shirt upward, digging your nails into his back and his soft skin, his moans on yours, tongue dancing up your trembling throat, biting that space right behind your right ear, your pulse roaring under his lips and your name in his throat, no distractions., only Jungkook.

“My mark belongs all over you,” he growled possessively.

Your nails dragged down his broad back and his hips bucked into yours, his oppressive force and weight a welcome one. You didn’t respond. A single dark brown orb watched your face, smirk against your earlobe. No response needed because Jungkook could see it in your expression and the way you held him, violent but desperate, needing him more than anyone or anything else in this world right now.

“Someday,” he murmured teasingly.

“In your dreams,” you shot back, finding your voice.

“They’re all about you.”

He sat up, thighs straddling you, crossing his arms and pulling up his white t-shirt in one swift stroke, tossing it aside. His lips curved into a sly smile, seeing you bite your lip and narrow your eyes to hide your breathlessness at his muscular and toned torso, the black tattoos of his right arm rippling as he leaned down again, his large hands next to your head, smirk dancing above your face.

“Just like how yours are all about me.”

You didn’t look away. “They’re not.”

Neither did he. “They will be.”

You clicked your tongue.

Unfazed, unbothered, unwise, you pulled Jungkook down to you, closing your eyes, his fresh scent filling your nose, lips on your skin, murmuring, so sweet, so delicious, kissing your collarbones, pushing your shirt off and reaching around you, forcing you to yank your pajama shirt off to avoid getting tangled in it and your unhooked bra, already moving on, lips wrapping around your hard nipple and you felt his eyes on you, opening yours to see his smirk and his tongue flicker, pulses of desire clawing through you, all because of Jungkook.

“What?” you managed to get out, sucking in a breath as his hand came up, fingertips pushing the other hard nub, watching your expression with his tongue extended.

“You belong under me, like this, enjoying everything I do to you,” he murmured, lapping slowly, not enough but still too much with the visual included.

“S… Stop looking at me like that.”

He shook his head slowly, your name falling from his lips, black hair brushing over his brows. You stiffened as his hand slid under the waistband of your shorts, under the thin fabric of your panties, long fingers dancing closer and closer to your heated, dripping core.

“If I look away, you might disappear from me again.”

You were lost, lost in the feeling of Jeon Jungkook.

Brown eyes ensnaring you, drowning your senses with his sensations.

“I can’t have that.”

His lips wrapping around your nipple again, deft fingers slipping inside your pussy, moan drifting from your lips as you raised your hips, shorts and panties sliding down, but Jungkook was already moving, plunging his fingers in fast and rough, sucking hard, tongue teasing the hard tip, other arm wrapped around you and free hand splayed in the small of your back, locking you in his space.

“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck…”

Your walls clenched around his fingers, his chuckle vibrating through your nipple, faster, harder, so easy because you were so wet and he was so close, one hand in his hair and the other clutching the sheets, back arching, muscles pulled taut in his touch, thighs unable to close because his own were holding them open, fingers tightening in his short black hair, nails digging into his scalp, breathing hard, not letting him have his favorite sounds, so Jungkook increased the pace, his own fingernails clawing at your back, and your eyelids fluttered, jaw clenching, moan torn from your throat.

“A-ah, Jungkook…”

And it all crashed down, fierce blossoming pleasure overtaking your veins, pitch hiking as his fingers stilled and his thumb pressed to your clit, fuck, don’t, but he did, he did because you pulled him even closer, chest to chest, his triumphant pants against your neck, hand sliding up your back, pushing your head down, taking your lips and your scream as you came again, all over his hand, tight pulsating walls clenching around his fingers, the scent of sex painting the air and his palm, covering him with you.

“Fuck…!”

You broke the kiss, hand wrapping around his forearm, squeezing hard, taut muscle pushing you back, tattoos peeking out from beneath your fingertips, staring into his eyes, time stopping, slow circles on your most sensitive spot, his blown-out pupils reflecting yours, skin to skin, heart racing against his.

“What?” Jungkook panted. “Tell me.”

His brown orbs searching your face, shrouded by lashes, desire so obvious that it was tangible and palpable.

“Want you.”

His lips curved into a smug smile.

“Yeah? Say it again.”

Your hands left his hair and his arm, reaching between your bodies, still gazing into his eyes.

“Want you, Jungkook. Want you to fuck me.”

His forehead touched yours as the button came undone, his hair sticking to your face, both sweaty from the intensity.

“I really missed you more than the words,” he mumbled against your cheek, helping you push his pants down, skin to hot skin, kicking them off the bed.

“Mhm.”

“I’m not lying.”

“I’m not an idiot, Jungkook.”

“You are if you don’t believe me.”

You stilled, holding the condom out and Jungkook took it from you, ripping it open, cocking an eyebrow defiantly as he rolled it down his hard length, nudging your thighs.

“You… You’re just here to annoy me.”

Your eyes shifted away and you felt him pick up your legs, pushing them up, hooking them over his shoulders. One of his hands cupped your chin and tugged you back to face him, not letting you avoid his gaze.

“We both know that’s not true,” he said softly.

You gasped sharply as he gripped your chin, holding you in place as he slid in, setting his jaw at your tightness, both of you shuddering at the feeling of your pussy surrounding his cock, feeling it swell inside you and get harder, stretching you out, his determination nearing as he leaned down, bending you in half, hand leaving your chin and pressing his palms flat against your sheets, breathing hard as he shoved himself the rest of the way in, a little pain but so much pleasure, soft thighs against his hard torso, your breath mixing with his, hot and heavy and sweet despite how firmly he had you pinned down.

“I want your head full of me,” Jungkook sighed, slowly rolling his hips into you, making you gasp. “You’ll never have a bad thought if I’m occupying that space.”

“Fuck, you can’t… ah, that’s not how it w-works, Jungkook…”

He was using his weight to drive his thrust, powerful and intense, ramming his hips into you, your juices leaking out and sticking to his crotch, the inside of your joined thighs slick and wet, loud slaps echoing throughout the bedroom, stiff length so hard you could feel it twitch inside your pussy, hitting you as deep and as rough as you liked, probably too much for the normal person, but not you, because you wanted to feel it all, wanted Jungkook to really fuck you and not be gentle about it, grabbing his hair and smacking your hips up to meet his, making you both moan loudly, names mixing with the visceral sounds of sex.

“I’ll just keep fucking you then,” Jungkook hissed. “Keep fucking you and make you feel so good that nothing else matters, nothing except how good I can make you feel.”

You looked up, your silver rings glinting in his black hair, your silver necklaces cutting into your neck and the three coin-shaped pendants jingling and clinking in rhythm with the mattress bouncing under your bodies, pressure and pleasure building inside your core, struggling to breathe as you glanced down and watched him enter and reenter, thick cock slick and hard before disappearing inside you.

“A-Ah…”

Back to his eyes, nearly black from arousal, groaning as you came around him, throbbing walls squeezing his entire length, feeling it all with every pulse.

“You’re gonna have to f-fuck me harder… than t-this…”

He smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You got it.”

You threw your head back at the first smack, clutching his head, feeling it all over, pleasure like rushing fire, eating up all your nerves and replacing it with sound and touch, the swift squelch of his length plunging into you, the feeling of him filling you up and taking your breath away, so good you could barely breathe, so good you could barely think, nothing but the feel of Jungkook towering over you and slamming down into you so you could thrust your hips up to meet him, so close, so close, heavy exhales blending together, skin and nerves prickling, humming with ecstasy, feeling so good you could only moan his name, and he groaned yours, right in your face, edge of desperation in his normally controlled, deep voice..

“Cum, yes, cum for me – fuck!”

And it all crashed down, fierce fire rocketing through you and hitting its peak, gasping as you smacked your hips up and clenched all around his cock in rapid throbs, his moan washing over you, jerking and flinching as he came in strong jolts, rutting his hips into yours to feel it all, shifting the head inside you so your muscles massaged him all over and drained his orgasm out.

“Jungkook… fuck…”

He lifted his arms and lowered your legs, hands coming up to hold your face, tipping your lips up to him, kissing them deeply.

“You don’t understand,” he mumbled, staring at you through his lashes. “It hurts when you don’t come to me.”

He kissed you again and again, your words wisping out between them.

“I…”

Feeling sorry there wasn’t another way.

“I have to get through it myself… It wasn’t you… You didn’t do anything…”

Jungkook collected you in his embrace, breath becoming one with yours.

“Yeah, but I can do something, so I need you to give me the chance.”

His eyes were telling you, you don’t have to go back out there. Stay. Stay with me, in this bedroom, in this space, just you and me. Your hand was against his temple, silver rings against his silver brow piercing, tracing his sharp features, feeling airless as you looked into those dark brown orbs and listened to his voice that seemed to be a permanent resident of your thoughts.

“Keep me with you, always.”

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoonkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #yoongi x you #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

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adventuresinwonderlust · 3 years

Text

Title: Caution to the Wind PART 2

For PART 1 Click HERE

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, a lot of first times, tension, Solo/ mutual masturbation (m) (f), mentions of virginity and losing it (friendship pact)

*AUTHORS NOTE: Warnings will update per chapter as things get steamier*

Permanent Tag List: @mochilicious-yoongi @heyimtavia

Rating: 18 and over

You wake to the sun peeking through his curtains, rolling to find Yoongi gone. You stretch your body out before sitting up and looking about for your phone. Yoongi soon enters, coffee in hand, once you send an all is well text to your mother. He hands you the mug with a smile, “Good morning. Did you sleep well?” “Morning. I did, thanks. How about you?” He nods, taking a seat at his desk. “Do you want to talk about last night?” He murmurs. You sip your coffee, shrugging at his question. “Do you?” “I mean, I'm sorry about ruining the kiss. I'll try to control myself more.” “No, it's my fault. I shouldn't have, uh, you know, touched you.” You look away from him, your face heating. “I mean, I understand but also…. it's ok if you did…. or if you wanted to…. uh…. No pressure.” He stutters, scratching at the back of his neck. You can't help but giggle, your nerves kicking in heavily. “Why?” He chuckles. “I'm sorry I'm not laughing at you. I'm just, this is just a bit awkward to talk about.” You reply. He nods, covering his face with his hands. “How can we make it not awkward?” He asks from behind his hands. “Maybe let's not talk about it beforehand. We should just let it happen naturally.” You explain. He lowers his hands, nodding at you. “Ok, you’re right let's just move on then. What do you want to do today?” “Let's just chill out, watch a movie or play a video game. We can head back to my place.” “Ok, well let's do that early. I don't want to hang around here too long.” “Okay, let me just shower and get dressed.” “Same.” He says, jumping up to grab clothes from his dresser to pack.

You watch as he neatly folds his things and places them into his duffle bag. He soon turns to you. “You can shower first Y/N, it'll give me time to get my stuff together.” You smile, grabbing your duffle and heading into the restroom. You exit fully dressed and ready to go, frowning when you hear Yoongi arguing with his mother. “You are never home!” “You never make it so I want to be home!” “How happy then you will be to move out and into the dorms? Finally, away from your terrible mother.” “I’m counting down the days!” He shouts, stomping up the stairs and into the bedroom. You lock eyes and he just shakes his head. “I'll be quick.” He grumbles, heading into the restroom.

You both head down the stairs to leave, Yoongi’s mother in the kitchen staring at you. “Have a good day.” You wave at her. She simply nods, turning away as you both walk out. “You know you don’t have to try so hard. She doesn’t care.” “I’ve known her since I was a little kid. Of course, I have to try. My mother would kill me if she found out I was anything but respectful to your mom.” “My mom loves you Y/N, things have just been tough at home.” “I know Yoongi, you don’t have to explain. I’m sure things will blow over soon enough.” He nods, taking a seat at the bus stop. “I feel bad that she and I have grown so far apart.” He says finally. “Well, you are both pretty prideful. Someone has to give in and say I’m sorry.” “It won’t be her that’s for sure.” “Then it should be you.” He shakes his head at your suggestion. “Maybe one day but just not today.” You nod, not wanting to press anymore, luckily the bus arrives.

You make it to your house and figure out a quick dinner, your mom texting to say she'll be working late. Yoongi, always being the kind guy he is, packs a plate for your mom to eat when she arrives home. You both clean up and head to your room. “Go kart?” You smirk at Yoongi, who nods. “You’re going to lose.” “Whatever, we shall see. Set it up, I’m gonna change into my pajamas.” You instruct, heading into your bathroom to change into a black tank top and sleep shorts. When you emerge, Yoongi is sitting on the rug at the front of the TV, the video game on, cheerful music filling the room. “Ready to lose?” He chuckles, his smile turning into a cough when he looks you over. He hands you a controller and you take a seat next to him.

You smirk to yourself, watching from the corner of your eye as Yoongi eyeballs you, and you wonder to yourself if you will always have this effect on him. “Better keep focus Min.” You tease, getting the one up on him and taking the lead. Your avatar zooms quickly, your heart beating fast, your knuckles aching from how tightly you hold the controller. Soon your avatar passes the finish line, the game whistling to inform you both the level is over. “Woooooo!” You scream, dropping the remote and lifting your arms in the air. Yoongi rolls his eyes, nodding calmly. “Best 2 outta three.” He wagers. “OK but let’s make it interesting.” He scoffs at your remark. “Interesting how?” You feel your body heat. Getting the one up on Yoongi has your core needy. You go to set your terms when your mother bursts through the door, startling you. “Hey, thanks for dinner. I’m going to crash. It was a long day. Try to keep it down ok.” “Yeah mom, sorry.” “Night.” She winks, closing the door.

“What was I saying?” You look back at Yoongi. “You wanted to make things interesting.” “Oh yes! So, since you lost this round, I want your shirt.” You smirk. His brow furrows and he looks down at his t-shirt, laughing nervously. “I’m not wearing anything underneath.” You shrug at his comment and feel your face heat when his Adam’s apple bobs with his hard swallow. He chuckles again and grabs the bottom of his shirt, lifting it up and over his head. He tosses it to you, his gorgeous skin on display, and you drop it in front of you happily. “Next round is mine.” He warns, grabbing his remote. You begin the next round and find yourself hyper focused on winning. Your hands are aching, not as large as Yoongi’s who can grip the control with ease. You squeal excitedly, in the lead. Yoongi grumbles under his breath, “I’m not going to lose this one!” You giggle at his words, taking your eyes away from the screen for a moment. Suddenly, Yoongi’s eyes light up and you whip your head back to the screen to see a computer player shoot a bomb at your avatar, knocking you out of first place. “No!” You whine, watching your avatar spin out of control. Yoongi whoops over and over beside you, his avatar quickly taking the lead. He leans up onto his knees, happily making noises under his breath, his avatar zooming over the finish line. He tosses his controller, throwing his arms up before pointing at you. “Told you I’d win. Take those shorts off.”

You scoff, a fit of adrenaline riddled giggles soon taking over you. You stand, tucking your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and drop them to the ground, using your foot to kick them over to him. He holds them for a moment in his arms, staring at you in your lacey black thong. You adjust the straps higher up on your full hips, slowly squatting down and sitting on your feet, your ass on full display for him. “Next round is mine.” You point at him. He doesn’t speak, unable to pull his gaze away from your plump behind. His eyes tracing your every outline, making your core burn with desire. “Focus Min, I want to win fair and square.” You say, grabbing the controller and setting up the next round. He grabs his controller, his eyes still taking you in. You’d be lying if you said that having his eyes on you wasn’t the best feeling in the world right now. You felt your arousal push pass your slit, wetting the fabric of your thong. You start the level and chuckle to yourself at the fact that you both are barely putting in an effort.

You see Yoongi's avatar speed up suddenly and so you decide to slow down, letting him win! “Ha,” He exclaims, “I win!” “I guess you do.” You shrug. His excitement soon fades, and He looks over your body again. “Um, well there’s not much to ask for.” He whispers, scratching the back of his neck. “You sure? Maybe you aren’t being creative enough.” You tell him, crawling over and locking lips with his. He moans, melting into the kiss. You pull away briefly to take in his needy look. “Don’t stop." He almost begs, leaning forward to kiss you again. You deepen the kiss, straddling him. Your cunt aching when he swirls his tongue around yours. His hands find purchase at your lower back, his fingertips fiddling with the fabric of your tank. You break the kiss again, “Do you want me to take it off?” His eyes widen and he stutters over what to say but the twitch in his pants give him away.

You sit up a bit at the feeling of his member pressing into you, his cheeks reddening, “I’m sorry.” He whispers. You shake your head, “It’s ok. I like how it feels.” You rock a bit in his lap, watching how his mouth falls open and his grip on your back tightens. “Is this, ok?” You ask in the hopes he’ll say yes, the friction against your yearning sex just what you need. He doesn’t speak, just nods, his hands falling to your hips. He tucks his slender fingers under the straps of your thong, gripping at your flesh before aiding you back and forth across his clothed erection. You mewl at the amazing feeling that slowly builds deep inside you. “Do.... do you like this?” He pants. You nod, moving your hips faster. He lets a soft moan escape and you’re quick to shush him for fear your mother will hear.

He bites his lower lip to keep from being too noisy and you find yourself trying hard to grind against him. You groan annoyed at how difficult it is to keep a good pace on the floor, your knees digging into the rug. “Let’s move to the bed.” You urge, standing. Yoongi hops up and follows you towards the bed. You sit down watching him approach, his erection creating a tent like effect at the front of his jeans. You swallow back you lust for him, rubbing your thighs together. “Do you want to take your jeans off?” He looks down at himself and back at you, his face and neck reddening. “Do you want me to? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You nod, feeling so overwhelmingly horny that you reach for his belt and begin to undo his pant. “Fuck Y/N.... I.... this has never happened before. I’m freaking out a bit.” “Me too,” You reassure him, “If you want me to stop at any time, just tell me.” He shakes his head, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he watches you tug his jeans down.

“Lie back.” You instruct. Yoongi shakily does as he’s told, groaning when you straddle him again. You moan lustfully at how amazing his clothed manhood feels against your clothed womanhood, so much better than any pillow. You want so badly to wildly grind against him, desperate for release. He has his hands on your thighs, his eyes fixed on you, waiting for your instructions. You lick your lips, an even naughtier thought coming to your mind. You slide back a bit, palming him gently, mewling at how incredible he feels in your hand even clothed. He releases a deep breath, his eyes closing shut at the feeling. “Do you like this?” You question even though you know his answer. He simply nods. Your body shivers at the sounds of his moaning. A surge of needy lust coursing through you. You grip his heavy manhood before nestling yourself into his lap again. You roll your hips into his. “Oh god!” He almost yells. “Shh! Try to be quiet.” You lean in to whisper in his ear. “Pl-please, go faster.” He begs and you nod, moving your hips in quick flicks across his erection.

“Do, do you like this?” He groans. “It’s nice. I like watching you.” You admit. He smiles seductively, wrapping an arm around your waist and flipping you onto your back. “I want you to like it too.” He whispers, shoving his erection into your soaked center. You can't help but hitch forward, dry humping your needy bud into his length. You moan quietly into his ear, reveling in the gentle kisses he traces along your collar bone and neck. Your skin begins to goose at the feeling of his soft lips against your hot skin. Your body burning as it nears your climax. “Yoongiiii, touch me.” You cry out. He stops completely, hovering over you and staring at your face. “Oh, Y/N, I want to, I’m just nervous. Maybe if you don’t mind, we can we try something else? If you don’t like it, we can stop.” “OK, yeah, what did you have in mind?” He bites his lip and you’ve never felt more turned on. “Show me how you make yourself cum.” He whispers. “Are you serious?” You giggle a bit. “Yeah, um, it’s a fantasy of mine. Like I want to see you touch yourself. I'll do it to. If you want to.” He whispers, his eyes fired with lust as he leans in for a kiss. You nod, running your hand into his hair. Your tongues swirling around one another in desperate fury.

“Should I stay lying back?” You ask. Yoongi shrugs. “Are you comfortable this way?” You nod in response. “Ok. I can do whatever.” He explains, leaning back on his heels, still nestled between your legs. You both watch each other. One waiting for the other to make the first move. You bite your lip, dying for release. “Show me your cock.” Yoongi's eyes widen, and he chuckles nervously. “Fuck, that's so hot. I've never heard you talk like that. I'm so horny right now. I want you. I want you so bad. Show me too. Um, I want to see your…uh….” “Pussy.” You finish his sentence. He groans deeply, palming himself with a needy nod. You let out a shaky breath at the sight of him already touching himself. “You’re so beautiful Y/N, do you know that? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.” He confesses, gripping your thigh. “Oh Yoongi.” You whimper, leaning forward to plant a kiss on his sweet pout. He takes over the kiss immediately, suckling on your tongue and soon your lips.

You can't take it anymore and reach into his underwear. You wrap your hands around his length, swallowing the desperate whine that leaves his throat. You begin stroking him from root to tip ever so slowly. You’ve watched porn before and had always seen the women in them start this way. You break away from the kiss to look down at his member, never having seen one up close before. He’s long, thick, and veiny. The tip the same pink as his lips. Your mouth hangs open as you watch yourself work and you soak yourself even more. Yoongi looks down also, his breathing erratic, soft moans leaving his kiss swollen pout. “Just like that, that’s so good.” He praises, reaching back to squeeze your ass. You marvel at the sticky pre-cum that spills from his reddening tip, licking your lips when it’s dribbles down onto your hand. “Fuckkkk.... this feels so amazing. You sure this.... is.... your first time doing this?” You nod at his question, your chest filling with pride. “Lie back, Y/N.” He instructs, grabbing his cock from your grasp. You nod, doing as your told and lying back. You release a shuddered breath at the sight of him stroking just his tip. His head falls back and he’s a moaning mess. His chest rises and falls so fast, you wonder if he'll hyperventilate. “Take your thong off Y/N.” You do as your told, bending your knees to your chest to remove the sticky fabric from your saturated core. You chuck the material to the side, parting your legs slowly on either side of a knelt down Yoongi.

“Fuck....she's gorgeous. Sss- So fucking wet. She’s practically glistening.” Yoongi stutters. You bite your lip, lowering a hand to glide your fingers through your slit. “I’m so wet for you.” You pant, grinding against your own hand. He shudders, watching your fingers maneuver through your slick folds. He begins to stroke himself in slowly, his eyes fixed on your core. Your mouth falls open and you widen your legs to give him more of a view. “Oh, fuck Y/N! You’re so wet. Watching you is so fucking hot.” He breathes desperately. You glide a finger through your slit, collecting your juices, and rubbing soft circles on your swollen nub. All the while Yoongi continues stroking the whole of his length, focusing on his tip with quick circular motions. You both moan out loud, unable to keep your eyes off your respective roaming hands.

You begin to pick up speed, rubbing larger circles against your clit, eliciting a long low moan from your lips. “God, Y/N. Watching you is better than any porn,” He whispers, hitching his hips upwards into his clenched fist at the same pace in which your fingers move, “I love watching you. I can’t take my eyes off of you. You’re so gorgeous.” “Ah, Yoongi. I’m so close.” “Shit baby. This feels so good, so fucking good. I’m not going to last much longer either.” You lock eyes with him and soon begin rocking against your fingers. Yoongi tightens his grip around his length and you watch his expression of lust turn to desperation. “Fuck Y/N, I can’t hold it. I’m going to cum baby.” Something about him announcing his climax brings about your own climax. “Yes, cum Yoongi, cum. Cum on my belly. I’m going to cum too.” You mewl, lifting your tank to expose your belly. “Oh, fuck! Really? That so fucking….” He is unable to finish his sentence, your orgasm striking you like a ton of bricks. His eyes widen watching you bite your lip hard to keep from screaming, never having cum so hard in your life. Your back arches, looking up just as Yoongi moans out, spurts of white shooting from his tip onto your expose tummy. You gasp at the amount of fluid one person can produce but at the same you are so turned on by it.

He soon slows his movements, leaning in to kiss you. “That was just, wow. Are you ok?” “Yeah, are you?” Yoongi chuckles at your question, kissing you again. “It was so great.” You both find yourself giggling. “Good thing your mom didn’t pop in, or we’d be dead!” “No shit!” “I made a mess. I’m sorry. Let me grab a towel and I’ll clean all this up.” Yoongi offers, kissing you again. He gets up, tucking himself away, walking towards your bathroom. You look down at your messy belly thinking of how girls in porn love the taste of cum. You swirl your finger in his seed, bringing your hand up to your nose to smell it. The scent is distinct, almost reminding you of cake batter. You drop your hand immediately when you hear Yoongi come out of the restroom with a wet washcloth. “You sure you ok?” He asks again. “Yeah, I’m good. I was just so overcome by like hormones I guess.” “That’s ok. There’s nothing wrong with that. Besides we are supposed to be here to help each other out so don’t feel weird or anything. You can always ask me to you know.” He smirks, wiggling his fingers in front of his face. You slap his arm, laughing out loud. He carefully cleans his mess from your abdomen, folding the towel up and chucking it in your laundry bin. “I think I’m going to shower actually.” You tell him. “Ok sure.” He plops back on the bed. “Wanna join me?” You offer. His eyes pop open and he leans up quickly. “Uh, seriously?” You start heading off to the restroom, turning to face him. “Well? You coming?” He leaps off the bed and runs into the bathroom after you.

#bts smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #suga x you #suga x reader

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stacispratt · 3 years

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glorious fire

big thank u to @coffeebucko without whomst this fic would not exist <3 thank u for chatting with me about stacijacob & also putting your eyeballs on the first draft of this thing!! without further ado here’s jacob asking how staci would kill him as foreplay

also posted on ao3!

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“When you fantasize about escaping,” Jacob says, as he looks up from his Chosens' reports to rest his eyes on Pratt's rigid form, “how do you do it?”

Pratt, sitting on Jacob's bed, in the middle of scribbling notes on his clipboard, only locks up stares at him. His eyes are wide, knuckles white, like he can’t believe Jacob is even asking— he thinks it’s a loyalty test. It’s as plain as day on his face. He stays quiet, manages to slip the pen into the top of the clipboard despite shaky hands. He's thinking up the perfect response, the perfect string of words to please Jacob, to make him secure in Pratt's loyalty. His fear.

That's not what he's looking for. Jacob’s not fucking stupid. No man in his right mind would think Pratt is loyal to him or Eden's Gate.

Silence sinks between them. The air sucks out of the room like a thunderstorm is about to break out, localized to just Jacob's bedroom, until Pratt looks like he might start to hyperventilate.

But Jacob Seed doesn’t repeat himself. He doesn’t ask again.

Instead, he sighs long and deep, and leans back in his chair. Looks back down to his records, though he doesn't read them. “When we were kids—Joseph, John, and me—we had some foster parents who worked us like dogs on their farm. Wouldn’t let us in the house, made us sleep in the barn." He taps his pen. "Beat us, too. Was doin’ my best to take the brunt of it, but one day I saw some bruises on John, even though he was just a damn baby.” Jacob pauses, glances over to Pratt, gauges his reaction. He's blank as stone, though there's something twitching in the corner of his mouth. Jacob hums once and sets his papers down. “So I burned the fucking barn down.”

He fixes his eyes decidedly on Pratt now, gaze hard and focused. Pratt's watching him back, like maybe he understands. Like maybe he knows better who Jacob is. What makes him tick, that— that what makes Jacob tick makes him tick, too.

“So, Peaches,” he says. “What barn are you burning?”

Pratt swallows so loud it clicks. Then he says, “I'd kill you while I shave your throat,” and Jacob smiles. He's not looking at Jacob anymore, he's staring at the floor— maybe the bloodstain on the unfinished concrete from when Jacob gave him the cut that now traces down the line of his cheek. His hands stay behind his back obediently, but his shoulders flex like maybe he's fiddling with his fingers. Weak, but Jacob can let it slide, so long as Pratt keeps outlining his escape plan. "And after– after you bleed out I'd disguise myself as a Chosen and escape."

Pratt's eyes fuzz out as he recalls his escape plan. It's not his realistic one, not a real plan. Jacob has seen him eye the weekly truck deliveries, sneak glances at the rotating guard schedule. Good. He's not stupid enough to tell Jacob his real plan. Just his favorite fantasy.

Jacob brings his hand to his face and rubs his mouth. "After. After I bleed out." He doesn't take his eyes off Pratt as his eyes rise from the floor to Jacob's face— first his finger perched on his lips, then to his eyes. He looks frightened, but not in the way he was at first. He doesn't look frightened of Jacob himself. More like he's frightened of his own thoughts, his own desires.

The thought has delight curling in Jacob's stomach.

"Yes," Pratt husks. "Yes, I have things to… to say."

An honest to God smile pulls up the corner of his mouth. Jacob is careful to cover it with his hand. "Like what?"

After a moment, Pratt says, "I guess you'll have to find out," his muscles tense like he's ready to bolt.

Jacob's smile widens into a grin. He fucking laughs. "Guess I will, Peaches," he croons, as he taps his finger to his lips, just once. "When you get the guts to dig in the knife, I guess I will." He hesitates, smile fading, then prompts, "Show me how you'd do it."

Pratt's jaw closes so tightly the muscle visibly flexes. Controlling himself, his gut reaction, but right after he does, he pries his mouth open and chokes out, "How I'd—?"

"Kill me," Jacob finishes for him, as he stands and comes around his desk. His arms fall to his sides, while Pratt's come up to his chest defensively. Jacob only hums and tugs his desk's metal chair into the center of the room. Over the old blood stain. "Come here."

He waits until Pratt steps forward to sit, then unsheathes his hunting knife from its holster on his thigh and offers it over his shoulder without looking.

Pratt hesitates for a heartbeat, then all at once swipes the knife from Jacob and presses it near instantly to his throat. Not hard, though— he'll need to press harder to kill Jacob.

But he never will.

Of course he won't. Jacob knows Pratt, and he won't. He'll never kill Jacob. He doesn't have it in him.

That's why he's never done it before when shaving Jacob. That's why he didn't do it in front of the Deputy. That's why he won't do it now. That's why it's only something Pratt thinks about late at night, lying on the dirt in a cage outside, when nightmares keep him awake.

Pratt takes a shuddering breath. Jacob tips his chin up in offering. He pulls the knife in toward him, and there's just enough bite to tell Jacob that Pratt actually managed to nick him. Warmth trickles down through the stubble on his throat and settles in the dip of his collarbone.

Jacob clucks. "Not a bad spot, if you'd actually make the slice." He grabs hold of Pratt's wrist and yanks the blade up his throat— hard enough that he can feel the skin go red and irritated, with blood vessels burst just under his first layer of skin. Pratt's hand trembles under his, flutters around the knife handle. "But you won't have any time to whine and cry at me if you get my artery. You'd have to cut…" he trails off for a moment while he guides Pratt's hand through the killing motion, glides the knife oh-so-gently across his vulnerable throat. "Just here if you want time to watch the light leave my eyes, Peaches."

Pratt's breath hitches audibly. Jacob adds, "Would even leave me the air to give you a little conversation, if you like." When there's no response, Jacob drops his hand to his lap and prompts, "Your turn, Pratt. Make the fucking cut."

Pratt still doesn't speak. Jacob insists, "Escape. Don't you want to? Don't you want to crawl to the Whitetails, beg and plead them to help you now that you've killed the Big Bad Wolf?"

The knife rocks against his throat as Pratt readjusts his grip. There's more pressure against his skin for just a moment, almost enough to make him bleed again, and then Pratt lifts the blade away from him, drops it to the floor, and steps back.

Jacob lets Pratt feel the silence for a few heartbeats. Then he stands, retrieves his knife, and straightens his back to look at Pratt. He doesn't smile this time, just steps forward to Pratt's figure, still as stone, and gently pinches his jaw between his thumb and first two fingers.

He doesn't speak until Pratt's damp eyes rise to meet his.

"You understand, don't you?" he murmurs. "You're a smart boy." Pratt nods, jerky as if he's controlled by broken machinery. Jacob strokes his jaw with the tip of his pointer finger. "Good. You're mine. And nobody else in this county— no Whitetail, no Hope County Cougar, no piece of their Resistance— is ever going to take care of you the way I do."

They breathe together for a few moments. Pratt's eyes have fallen shut, though tears still glisten at the corners and along his lashes. Jacob thinks absently how he wants to make Pratt cry until there's no more tears left in him— until there's no horror left worse than anything he's already felt.

"There's nothing for you out there," Jacob says. Promises. Reassures. "There's only me."

Pratt doesn't say a word, but Jacob hears him all the same:

Only you.

Jacob lingers. Strokes his thumb over Pratt's lip.

Pratt opens his eyes at the sensation, stares up with those wide brown eyes— Jacob exhales softly and sinks down to press their lips together. Slides his thumb out of the way just in time, drags the corner of Pratt's mouth down as he slots their lips together. Pratt's breath shakes out of him. Jacob swallows it up.

"Staci," he murmurs, and clenches his hands on Pratt's hip and the back of his neck when he shudders in response. Jacob holds him steady, no longer kissing him, though their lips still brush. He doesn't move. He waits for Pratt.

Who takes one more halted, shivery breath, then steps abruptly back from Jacob. He dips his head to escape Jacob's hold on his neck, then just stands there, three feet from him. Jacob hums. Runs his hand over his beard and rubs his knuckle into his chin. "Staci," he repeats, and it instantly draws Pratt's eyes to his— Jacob's never used his first name until now, and it's having just the effect Jacob hoped it would. He holds his gaze and doesn't move closer. Lets Pratt keep his distance. "We're all we can rely on. That's why we cull the herd. That's why we need to train them."

Pratt stares at him. Jacob can see the cogs turning in his mind. Can see him grinding up the we, trying to process it. Make it digestible.

"Together," Jacob adds, without looking away. After a moment, he steps forward, pats Pratt's cheek, then steps to the door and twists the handle. "Bring me a report on the Bliss supplies by ten. See you tonight, Peaches."

Alone in Jacob's bedroom, Staci brushes his middle finger over the developing scar on his right cheek. He follows it down to his mouth, and presses his first knuckle to his lips.

Staci, Jacob says in his mind, Together.

#stacijacob #fc5 #staci pratt #jacob seed #my fic #had tons of fun writing this ngl i missed them so so much

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mrskurono · 3 years

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effin hell, that noritoshi angst went right through my heart. now i’m in the hospital thank you

but, let’s say he meets his former love by accident (in a park or anywhere else) and he’s with his child. i just— i can’t imagine how hhhhuuurttful that can be for both parties

like, you complimenting his child like “they look like you” and he’s all silent but we can bet that Noritoshi wants to cry his eyeballs out cuz he hasn’t gotten over you even after all these years

cursing at himself that is was his decision, that he could have chosen you and he could have been ten times happier than he is right now

and when be finally sees you again, he is so afarid to let you go, he is afraid cuz HE KNOWS that’s the last time you guys ever cross paths ever again

sorry noritoshi babe, you did it yourself 😤 i love you but, now, suffer.

(some of your guys asks were basically this so I just complied the two big ones that kinda went over everything)

Let’s zest it up and say you end up with Megumi ok (bc I love Megumi) The chances of you really seeing Noritoshi again are minimal. Megumi has to little ties to the Zenin clan aside from when his cousins need things that, even as a Jujutsu Shaman, you feel secure in the fact you can pursue your own life and leave what heart break you have alone. Not to mention Megumi is incredibly gentle and understanding and it was pure fluke that you both ended up together. One co op mission together and it just kinda settled things together. You both work well together, Megumi was patient and in love, you felt safe and admired him for choosing his own way. It was a subtle thing but strong none the less.

Maybe not the soul clenching love story you’d had with Noritoshi but the love you have for Megumi is the kind that weathers storms and you appreciate him and your shared life for that. Queue the angst.

Something happens, be it as bad as the current arc or something, but it requires the collective thoughts of the three clans. Maki needs Megumi to come with bc regardless he still has that cursed technique and she thinks its important for her cousin to hear what’s happening to keep him, and his newly growing family, safe. Megumi agrees and of course you come with him. Not like you hadn’t gone with him a few times before, it just was never for a gathering of all three clans.

Without even thought you didn’t think about Noritoshi or anything. Until you’re heading to another meeting with Megumi and that’s when you see him. Noritoshi is kissing that still unknown woman’s cheek and offering the little girls hand he was holding to her. Clearly this is what he left you for.

Out of the corner of his eye and after dismissing his wife and child, Noritoshi sees you and Megumi. It honestly catches him by surprise. While you might have been having snippets here and there about his life (via Mai and Todo of course) Noritoshi has no idea where you went or what you’ve done or anything (it was a collective agreement even though they respected their friend, none of them (Mai included) felt the need to tell Noritoshi about you when they saw you bc he didn’t deserve it) But he’s seeing you for the first time in 5+ years and he’s honestly stunned.

There’s a moment where he wants to smile and grab you into his arms and press his lips to the side of your head like he always did. But then he sees Megumi’s arm around your back. The way you both walk so close together and the darkened look Megumi adopts the second Noritoshi’s eyes land on you. Of course Megumi is low confrontational so when you stop in front of Noritoshi, he simply kisses your forehead and leaves a lingering touch on your stomach before telling you he’ll be inside waiting for you.

So many things could be said. And so many of them need to be said. Both of you look tired. Noritoshi with an underlying tiredness he hasn’t shaken since the day of his own wedding. Everything just compounding on itself when he sees you. Not really even registering Megumi or where you’ve both happened to meet or anything. All he sees is you and everything claws at his throat at once.

None of the things he wants to say make it up to his lips. Noritoshi tips his head down and says some half ass remark about seeing your well. He means it but just like that nothing can be undone. He sees you grip tighten into white knuckled fists and if he got hit right there he’d accept it. And honestly beg for your forgiveness. But it never comes. He sees your grip loosen and hands relax. Almost like its more of a punch to the gut when you won’t react to him.

You simply tell him hello and that his child seemed very well mannered as was his wife. “They seem nice.” That was it. It hurt in every fiber of his being. You excuse yourself past him to go sit with Megumi finally. Only the fleeting familiar scent of your hair, your clothes, you? Something. But Noritoshi remembers it. Painfully so. A smell he loved from day one. And now he was reminded how actual love felt.

It’s for nothing though. When he comes into the room to search for you. Everything in Noriotoshi tightens. You’re seated with Megumi that’s for sure. But it’s what he sees that cracks him into a million pieces.

Megumi’s lips near your ear, he’s whispering something to you and you’re....you’re smiling. Noriotoshi feels his heart in his throat like he’s ready to throw up. Megumi moves to kiss the side of your head and Noritoshi sees his hand come up and touch your stomach like he had before. It dawns on him what that must mean.

Noritoshi is forced to take a seat across from the Zenin family. In which you are seated with, something he never thought he’d see. You at a meeting with the clans. Megumi’s touch on your thigh like he use to. But now you’re...you’re leaning into him. A tenderness he hasn’t shared with anyone in years. Love nowhere to be found in his actual marriage. He appreciates his wife and loves his kid but the heart fluttering butterflies he saw in you could never be replaced. He’s wondered if you’ve replaced him. But he gets his answer when Megumi kisses your temple and you close your eyes and lean into him. Something about the fact you closed your eyes kills Noritoshi a little on the inside. You were happy and it was without him. All because he craved to be here at the clans as the leader. Leader of the Kamo Clan. All alone. With no one to be seated with him besides his advisors. This is what he wanted. And now it’s what Noritoshi gets to live with.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #threethoughts #jjk noritoshi #noritoshi kamo x reader #kamo noritoshi #noritoshi x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader

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timextoxhajima · 3 years

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Grounded: Level 4

Level 3 | Level 5

Member: Minho (Lee Know)

Genre: idol minho x idol trainee reader

Taglist: @jaehyvnsvalentine @licorice526 @lolwhatameme @felixn-recs

[A P R I L 2 0 1 9]

The date was the 4th of April, 2019. It’s almost like Yeonjun knew, and that was exactly the reason why he had invited you to go watch TXT’s Inkigayo stage.

They were used to it, being nominated for top two but never winning, even after two years. It sucks to watch them wait nervously for the results to come out, the thought ‘it won’t be us’ floating about in their heads despite those stage smiles and those strong fronts.

You were finally pulled to your feet with your hands over your mouth when the results were finally broadcasted, and Jisung’s face gave it all away. Then, there was your ex-classmate, whose lips were hung agape, and Chan’s eyes that were filled, not with surprise but with the sheer amount of gratitude he had for the job he was finally doing after 7 years of training.

You were here for TXT, but Yeonjun knew you were rooting for Stray Kids.

A frown comes over your face when the desire to just break out into ugly sobs overwhelms your entire respiratory system. The camera pans, and all you see is Seungmin jumping with joy with his arms around Changbin and Minho.

The smile on his face was irreplaceable. The same way Earth’s moon could never be replaced. Not by Jupiter’s Moons, not by Saturn’s moons, nothing. It’s like the stars aligned based off their hard work and God finally said, you all deserve to reap the rewards of your efforts.

The tears tumble over your lower lids when you see Chan cry, then Jisung cannot regain his composure, with Seungmin and Changbin following suit. But your eyes cannot leave Minho.

He is happy.

He is proud.

He is standing where he was born to be.

Each scene plays out like life was running in split seconds, and you could absorb every moment of it, and yet before you know it, TXT comes back to their dressing room where you were waiting.

It is written all across Yeonjun’s face that he’s just satisfied with himself that he didn’t invite you for nothing. But something surprising surges through you, and it motivates you to throw your arms around Yeonjun in a bid to express your gratitude.

“Whoa!” Your weight shoves him back a few steps, and his arms come around your shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Shaking your head, you can hear his racing heart beat from the adrenaline of being on stage. The other members are packing up, so you aren’t really bothered when your tears start to stain his shirt. “Just... thank you, for inviting me today.”

“Aw, come on. It’s nothing. I just had a gut feeling they’d win today, thought you would like to witness that for yourself.”

The panic starts dripping into the warmth he’s providing you. It’s the same feeling you got when Minho had encouraged you to persist on for your performances.

You pull away, eyes tilting upwards to meet his.

It takes you exactly two seconds to realise that you’re more comfortable looking into his eyes than Minho’s, which is alarming.

“But anyway,” He releases you, and the lack of physical contact sucks some disappointment out from you. “It’s time to go, unless you want to wait for Stray Kids.”

“I...” Minho has his career now. I can’t make him choose, right? It’s time to let go. It’s time to move on. It’s time to forget about him. “No, it’s fine. I can text Hyunjin later.”

“What?” There’s a gentle frown on his forehead; you already know what’s running through his head. “What about Lee-”

“I can ask Hyunjin to forward the congratulations to the whole group, it’ll be fine.”

It’s not fine. Because I know how much Hyunjin is going to hate it.

Back in the comfort of your bed (though you would very much prefer the one you have at home), you scroll through your chats, searching for Hyunjin, and unironically noticing that your chat with Minho was almost non-existent anymore.

You stare at the screen for so long, it blacks out, now feeding you with your own dark reflection. The light from the corridor that’s the only thing illuminating your room was a speck white in your irises, even in the reflection.

Shutting your eyes, you let the content of the texts sink in - who was Hyunjin kidding? Who were you kidding?

Had there anything between Minho and I, it would’ve happened, right?

Now that he’s an idol, there’s nothing that could happen between the two of you.

What’s JYP going to do if one of his newly debuted idols get into-

No.

It’s not going to happen. Because Minho doesn’t have feelings for me the same way I had feelings for him.

I don’t need Minho anymore.

You put your phone on airplane mode and await the next day. Training, training, and more training.

It’s not like he ever needed me anyway, right?

[J U L Y 2 0 1 9]

What the fuck am I even looking at?

Just what the fu-

What the fucking-

“y/n,” Soobin wraps his fingers around his phone despite it still being in your hold. “Can I- Can I have my phone back- Please-”

Just who does he think he is? Prancing around in that stupid white top to some deep jazz music-

He finally snatches his phone away from you, and you’re left with the rigidity of your knuckles folded and crumpled like you were still holding it.

[Stray Kids : SKZ-PLAYER] Lee Know "DAWN(새벽)"

“What, cat got your tongue?” Beomgyu snickers, just missing a harsh swipe of your hand from you.

“Cut it out,” Yeonjun comes from behind and shoves his head forward playfully into a head lock, ruffling his hair. The sight of both Yeonjun and Minho stirs the lazy, but very difficult-to-put-to-sleep creature in your heart. Though one of them was just dancing in a space in a video on the screen, it feels like both are yearning for your attention.

Of course, you’d never admit it to anybody. Not even yourself.

“No, I’m just... Surprised.”

Taehyun’s in a game with Kai, but he still manages that sneaky look at you above his phone. “Surprised that he’s got individual content or surprised that you still get affected by what he does?”

Kai sucks his lips between his teeth, the attempt to hide his cheeky grin futile. Soobin watches you roll your eyes and shake your head to yourself, empathising with you.

“I’ve got an idea-”

“I don’t think I want to hear it, Gyu-” Aggressively shaking your head, you throw him the meanest glare you can conjure from your eyeballs.

“How about you go to JYP and surprise him? Congratulate him on his individual content?”

It piques the members’ interest. Now, even Yeonjun was giving you those eyes that said “hey, that’s not such a bad i--”

“No,” The leather sofa creaks a little when you push yourself off it, removing yourself from the dressing room where they were having rehearsals for KCON 2019.

“Aw, come on,” Yeonjun’s groan sounds like a puppy begging to go on a walk. Ironic that it’s coming from an older boy that much taller than you, that much more respectable than you. “It’ll be fun. They’re going for KCON in LA in August and I’ll be back by then. We can bring them a basket of fruit or something.”

“I might just go with ‘or something’-”

“Let me rephrase that,” Yeonjun points to you with that mischief in his eyes, coming between you and the door of the dressing room. “We can bring them a basket of fruit, you can have a chat with Lee Know, wish them good luck on their trip to LA and we’ll be on our way. All you gotta do is order that basket and by the time we come back from KCON New York, we’ll be good to go.”

You squint at Yeonjun, slightly suspicious of how hard he’s selling you the idea, until you remember that he’s got a heart of gold, the kind that’s making you feel confused and at an absolute loss of words.

“I’ll go with you,” He leans forward a little, hands on your shoulders and slightly shaking your frame. “I’ll ask Changbin for this favour, tell him we’ll be dropping by and keep it a surprise for Lee Know, how does that sound?”

No. I don’t want to be in the same room as you and Minho, God damn it.

Your lungs deflate and your shoulders slump, gaze avoiding his for a split second before they resign and turn back to him.

“Yes!” Yeonjun clenches his fist and holds them before his chest, his head thrown back in triumph. “You’ve all seen it!” Suddenly acting like he was in a play, he wraps an arm around you and gestures out into the air, not engaging any of his members who were all occupied with their own phones. “On the road to redeeming your friendship with Lee Know!”

Finally releasing you, he runs his hand through his hair and struts across the room. The words reach you, despite him walking away and they still somehow sink into your bones, but you can no longer contain the whirlpool of emotions swirling around like a tornado in your gut.

“Man, y’know how frustrating it is to watch that conversation between you and Lee Know go down? Time to set this right...”

And his voice fades out slowly, only because you can’t help but compare the likes of Minho and Yeonjun. Both boys have your heart, but one doesn’t need you, and the other’s trying to push you to the latter.

What a fucking mess.

After TXT leaves for the stage again, you are left to return to BigHit to continue training - you scored an A for dancing the last evaluation round, but a B for rapping and a C for vocals.

Not a great start.

The trainee manager comes to pick you up, updates you on the progress your fellow trainees have made, but none of it gets into your head.

Your phone’s just given you a reminder of your private Instagram’s memories, and all you can process are Minho’s face appearing over and over and over again back when you were both back-up dancers for BTS.

First, the only thing that’s running through your mind was how precious memories are. Grains of sand that fly away in the wind or get washed away by the ocean when it comes by the shore - always existing but never always around. His little bunny teeth that shone under the light of the back-up dancer’s dressing room, and his habit of sticking a napkin to his forehead so his facial oil wouldn’t glisten with the sweat. He’s taking his time to munch on his burrito while scrolling through his Instagram, completely unaware of your mindless zooming in on his face - it’s something his members like to do now too.

When you see a picture of yourself on his back on the last day of being BTS’ backup dancer though, that’s when the tears start to gradually covet the surface of your eyeballs. The pinches in your chest present themselves as deeper breaths when you try to control and maintain your composure. The trainees’ manager probably going to look at you weird when he sees you crying at your phone silently.

But how can you not, when all the memories with Minho seems so far away, they feel unreal? They feel like dreams you had that were forgotten over time; they feel like cotton candy when they melt in your mouth. Sweet, then nothing.

Maybe he’s just another chapter in your life that’s ended. He was just here to show you what you could do, and not stick around to watch you succeed at it.

Maybe this was it.

[A U G U S T 2 0 1 9]

“Is that the one and only Choi Yeonjun standing in JYP territory?!” Changbin’s loud voice echoes down the hallway before your sunbae can complete his request to the lady at the lobby of the building.

“Having fun training for KCON?” Yeonjun pulls back from the counter, previously leaning on it.

“They’re with me, thanks,” Changbin leans over one of the barricades and informs the lady, who presses a button and the barricades whir open. “Tell me about it. It’s been such a busy year. How have you been? You just came back from...”

“New York.”

“Right, right. Ours is in LA so,” Changbin trails off as he presses the lift button before turning to you. “You are... Hyunjin’s classmate, right?”

“The one and only,” You extend your palm to Changbin, who takes it with some slight surprise.

“Do your members know we’re here?” Yeonjun’s innocent question was short of being interrupted by the lift arriving.

“Nah, you wanted it to be a surprise right?” Changbin grins at the both of you through the reflection of the lift doors. The plastic wrap of the gift basket in your hands crinkle under the pressure of your grip.

“Man, isn’t this fun? You get to show up, unannounced, give everybody something and then make up with Lee Know!”

“Lee Know?” The name draws a frown upon Changbin’s face. He looks lost for some moments before you can imagine the lightbulb that brightens above his head. “Ah- You’re that trainee that got casted by BigHit who was in the back-up dancer’s dance crew for BTS.”

A weak smile helps you ease his guess.

“Right, right, right, right,” He nods, eyes slowly gravitating to the ground, then the words are so low, you don’t think you were supposed to hear it. “Ah... so you’re her.”

The lift doors open to a floor where you can hear the booming - though muffled - music from inside a studio, and you can hear the makings of a group of boys trapped in four walls. Changbin had barely gotten the door open when you hear Jisung yelling at someone for pinching Jeongin’s cheeks.

“Oh!” The maknae was the first to see you coming through the door behind Changbin, and before Yeonjun. “Noona-”

“Surprise!” Yeonjun yells from behind you, raising both his arms into the air. “I hope we aren’t interrupting anything important. Changbin said today was just a more chill training day for you guys.”

Chan is the first one to greet Yeonjun. “No worries, we were just having a break.”

“This is y/n, in case you didn’t already know her. We brought something for you,” Yeonjun nods to the gift basket you almost forgot you were holding.

“Oh! Yes, right. This- This is for you to share,” Awkwardly handing the leader the gift basket, Felix and Seungmin come by to help with the gift, thanking both you and Yeonjun at the same time.

“You didn’t have to,” Chan watches his younger members scramble to the pot of gold. “I’m surprised you even have time to come here.”

Yeonjun grins and rubs the back of his neck with some slight exasperation. “No, we had time. It’s fine. Also, do you happen to know where-”

“Yah! I leave for 10 minutes and you guys just sto-”

The entire’s room attention is drawn towards the second door on the far left of the studio, and Minho enters with some bottles of water with Hyunjin trailing behind him. There is a heavy, awkward silence in the air when everybody watches you lock eye contact with Minho, whose feet are slowly but surely inching forward to the crowd.

“Hyung!” Changbin is the first to break the tension, dashing over and throwing an arm around him. “y/n and Yeonjun just dropped by to hand us a gift basket to wish us luck on our LA KCON trip.”

“You,” Hyunjin leaves the bottles of water on the floor and heads for you, pulling you into a head lock and ruffling your hair. “When were you planning on visiting?” He whispers into your head, only loud enough for you to hear.

“I didn’t know I was expected, dipshit,” You struggle a little before you feel his grip around your neck loosen, standing straight up again to comb down your hair.

Hyunjin crosses his arms across his chest and glances at Changbin introducing Yeonjun to Minho whilst Chan was busy handling the younger members.

“Well, for one thing, I know nobody was expecting Yeonjun. I can’t say the same for you.”

Your hair slaps your face when you whip your head to look at Hyunjin, whose attention is now smugly stuck on Minho.

The man did not look happy for some reason.

#lee know scenarios #lee know #stray kids #skz #stray kids lee know #skz lee know #lee know fanfic #skz lee minho #stray kids minho

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xo-phile · 4 years

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Tides (M!Mer x Fem!Reader) p1

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Excerpt: “Listen,” he started, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure there are plenty of people who have lived next to a body of water their entire lives and are still afraid of it.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so afraid of the water if it stopped producing such obnoxious mermen.”

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: thalassaphobia, emetophobia (just in case, no actual vomiting), situational anxiety, almost drowning

Author’s Note: Hope you all enjoy! If you did, please harass me to finish part 2!

Part 2

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༻✦༺　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Morning light filtered through your windows, casting shadows of tree branches onto the walls of your art studio. The room was quiet except for the soft scratching of your charcoal against the rough paper of your giant sketchbook and Teddy, your massive Newfoundland water dog, snoring by your feet. You stopped your sketching to rifle through a stack of photographs that you used for reference of the old church in the woods.

The photographs showed a lone brick building, church bell and all, that would have been unobtrusive in design if it weren’t for the fact that it was the only building in the middle of Saggitaria Woods for miles. The chapel’s warm brick exterior and defined architecture stood in stark contrast the surrounding lush greenery. You couldn’t forget the way the trees seem to slowly close in on the stone intruder, while the building stood stoically, seeming to welcome nature’s embrace.

When you looked back up at your sketch, the lines you scratched onto the page didn’t evoke the same balanced contrast. It just looked like trees and a building with a cross. You sighed exasperatedly and threw down your stack of photographs with a hard thump. Teddy awoke with a startle at the sound, and let out a disgruntled huff, looking up at you with disdain.

“Sorry, buddy,” you laughed crouching down to ruffle his massive brown head. The Newfie lolled his gigantic pink tongue in a doggy smile and leaned into your hands in forgiveness. Outside, the sound of a boat’s motor approached and cut off. Teddy jumped up to gallop out the door, with you snatching a cardigan off your chair to follow behind. From your porch, you saw Romero and Willow, old childhood friends, waving excitedly on the dock. Squealing in delight, you broke out into a run down the path from your home to the wooden lake-front dock.

“My two favorite gremlins!” you cried excitedly throwing yourself into Willow’s arms.

The sound of two girls screeching in delight made Teddy start to bark excitedly. Romero, a six-foot-nine lycanthrope, picked the both of you up for a massive bear hug, swinging you two around like rag-dolls. Seeing your childhood best friends’ faces for the first time since their wedding made you realize how long you had been cooped up with just Teddy for company.

“What are you guys doing here?” you asked, “I thought you guys were gonna move into the new house after you got back from your honeymoon.”

“Well we were, but Dresden asked us to check on you,” Romero said, bent down giving Teddy what looked like the world’s best tummy rub. You looked at Willow in confusion and she rolled her eyes.

“He said he hadn’t seen you take the ferry in like a month,” she said accusingly, arms crossed over her chest, “We wanted to make sure that Teddy didn’t make a snack out of you.” At the mention of his name and the word “snack”, Teddy tilted his head comically. It was your turn to roll your eyes.

“Well you can tell Dresden that I’m up to eyeballs in projects right now and that he doesn’t need to worry.” Willow and Romero gave each other a look before turning back to you.

“How about you tell him yourself? We’re meeting him at the buoy, tomorrow. Think of it as a welcome back party for us,” Willow offered.

The thought of being out in the middle of the lake made your stomach dropped. Willow must have seen the look in your eyes and grabbed your hands to hold them comfortingly.

“It’ll be completely safe, I promise. We won’t go swimming or anything. We’ll just hang out like old times,” she assured. You gave an awkward smile.

You knew your friends were just looking out for you. They constantly ribbed you for your workaholic nature. If you had a dime for all the times they joked about you painting nature more than being in it, you probably wouldn’t have to paint again for the rest of your life.

“I don’t know guys… The gallery opening is coming up soon and I’m nowhere near where I need to be in the collection to be goofing off,” you tried with a sheepish shrug. You were lucky enough that your online presence grabbed the attention of a curator willing to display a series of never before seen works. The idea of blowing this amazing opportunity, whispered menacingly in the back of your head.

Romero looked at you for a moment and then smirked.

“Oh, that’s too bad. Micah was gonna show us his new boat…” he mentioned casually.

At the mention of Micah, you felt your ears warm at the tips. Willow side-eyed your reaction and added,“He’s been asking about you, you know…”

“Micah?“ you asked skeptically, "What does his girlfriend have to say about that?”

Willow rolled her eyes in response.

“Who cares about her? Micah said she’s not coming. Homies only outing,” she responded waggling her eyebrows.

These little shits, you thought. She knew that was the final nail in the coffin so with a groan, you acquiesced and smiled in defeat. Willow and Romero cheered in victory while Teddy ran around in circles excitedly.

༻✦༺　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

With your eyes closed, all you could hear was the sound of Romero’s boat, Lobo del Lago, cutting through the waters of Lake Obsidian. The wind whipped past your face and through your hair as the Lobo navigated through rogue waves. When you finally opened your eyes, the sierra mountains that surrounded Lake Obsidian were in clear view. Surrounding redwood forests made the scenery look like something right out of an old postcard you’d find at a gift shop.

Lake Obsidian stretched out for miles around the boat, the water glittering in the afternoon sun. For most people, being out on a boat with friends in gorgeous weather would have made for a perfect day. Unfortunately for you, being this far out on the lake and not knowing how deep below Lake Obsidian reached, made your stomach flutter. Instead, you focused on the horizon of the lake and the surrounding forests passing by in the distance to distract yourself. Next to you was Teddy, who, unlike yourself, stuck his head over the side of the boat, mouth open wide, his tongue and ears flapping in the wind.

At least one of us is enjoying themselves.

"You doing okay, sweets?” Willow asked, sitting down next to you. Her hazel-blonde hair was wind-swept perfection and she looked like an old movie star in her giant sunglasses and strapless one-piece. You, on the other hand, opted for jean shorts and comfortable flannel, not exactly fit for swimming or water sports. You saw in the reflection of Willow’s sunglasses your hair was sticking up in all different directions from the wind and your complexion was looking green. She handed you a bottle of ginger ale and you took it gratefully.

“So far, so good. As long as I don’t think about the bottomless infinity of this godforsaken lake, I think I’ll make it,” you replied, trying to suppress a grimace.

“Well, you’ll have a pretty good distraction soon enough,” she chuckled, giving you a knowing look.

When you felt Lobo start to slow, you looked up to see a cruiser, Siren, approaching. Its pilot, Micah, a sandy blonde Minotaur, was at the helm, waving excitedly. The Siren circled some laps around Lobo causing the breaking waves to rock the boat. The motion caused you to clutch at the railing, knuckles turning white. Teddy was barking madly next you at motion of the boat, excited to see a familiar face.

“Hey Micah, stop showing off!” Romero yelled from the helm as the Siren finally slowed to a stop.

“Sorry, Rome,” the hulking Minotaur laughed from a distance, “Just made some upgrades and she drives like a dream!”

When both boats finally anchored, you willed your face to not look completely sea-sick. Micah hopped over to Lobo as gracefully as a 285-lb Minotaur could and went to give hugs to Willow and Romero. When he came to you, he lifted your whole body effortlessly, into a warm embrace.

“Hey stranger,” Micah smiled infectiously. You couldn’t help but grin back despite the anxiety in your stomach rising even further. You weren’t sure if it was seeing your childhood crush or the fact the you were five feet in the air, rocking in a boat. When he put you down, you took several sips of ginger ale. Teddy started hopping on his hind legs, pawing at Micah, wanting to be carried like you were. Micah just laughed and lifted the 145-lb dog into a hug like he weighed nothing at all.

“I was starting to get worried!” Micah said as he smiled down at you. His large figure was so broad and tall, he blocked the bright light of the afternoon sun from your eyes. He set Teddy down for him to run off somewhere to get his toy.

“You know how it is,” you tried sheepishly, “the work gets away from me…”

“Well it’s good to take a break once and a while,” he said with a big furry palm warm on your shoulder, “It’s nice to have the whole gang together again.”

“Not the whole gang. Looks like somebody wants to show up fashionably late,” Romero said working on unloading paddle boards.

“No worries, let’s just get out on the water while we wait.” Micah started to take off his shirt to reveal a thick, sturdy torso and giant, muscular shoulders. You pretended to look for Teddy instead of openly staring.

“You gonna come out with us? My board can probably hold both of us…” Micah offered with a smile.

“Uuuuh…” you started to say before Willow cut you off.

“Sorry Mic! She’s gotta help me take some pictures for Instagram first,” Willow lied, hooking her arm through yours. Micah’s face fell for a moment.

“Maybe later then?”

“I actually forgot my bathing suit today,” you tried without looking at his eyes. Micah gave you a consoling smile and a shrug.

“No worries. Maybe another time, soon. Gotta make sure you still remember those lessons,” he said with a wink.

Micah had given you paddle boarding lessons in shallower waters before so there was no reason for him to think you couldn’t be out on the water. The words warmed something in your chest, but you felt bad for lying to your friend.

“Thanks, Willow, seriously,” you confessed gratefully to your friend after the boys were out on their paddle boards. You watched Micah’s powerful back flex as he pulled himself through the rocking waves on his board. You wondered what it would feel like under your hands.

“No worries, sweet-cheeks. I was serious about those Insta pics though,” she laughed. The two of you took turns taking pictures in the brilliant, sunny day. The scenery was no doubt, gorgeous, perfect for would-be social media influencers and artists, like yourself. Today, however, you promised your friends you wouldn’t bring work with you, so you ended up lounging on the platform on the back of Lobo, throwing a tennis ball out into the water so Teddy could swim after it. You were on something solid and the waters were somewhat calm, so you were actually able to enjoy yourself.

You were about the throw the ball again, when Teddy started barking at a form in the water. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a long fishtail shimmer as it swam by. It raced over to where the boys were paddle boarding and you saw Romero’s board shake and flip with him on it. When Romero finally surfaced with his hair plastered to his face, Dresden’s head popped up out of the water howling with laughter.

“Dres, you little shit, I was about to win,” Romero deadpanned.

Micah ended up laughing so hard, he fell off his own board with a gigantic splash. The merman and the Minotaur high-fived, still howling with laughter.

“It’s okay, Dresden,” Willow yelled from the boat, “He desperately needed a bath!”

“Sorry Rome, I’ll make it up to you I promise,” Dresden sniggered. He ducked his head underwater and resurfaced again right in front of you.

“There’s our little recluse! I was beginning to think that monster you kept as a pet ate you,” he said pulling his body halfway out of the water to reveal lean, muscular shoulders and strong arms, toned by years of deep-water swimming. He shook the water out of his dark curly hair like a dog, and sprayed it all over you.

“As always, it’s such a pleasure to see you, too, Dresden,” you greeted sarcastically.

“Oh, you wound me. Be nice, or I might change my mind about your present,” he countered, hazel eyes glittering.

“Presents? Oh, well now you’re a man after my own heart,” you smiled, reaching out your palm with a gimme motion. He pulled a satchel bag that was hung across his broad shoulders and threw them onto the platform next to you. You reached in the to pull out a a flat rock the size of a dinner plate. When you flipped it over, you found a perfectly preserved ammonite, embedded into the stone. The white shell shifted hues in the light as you moved it, turning blue, green, and then orange, opalised by time.

“Dres, this is beautiful…” you gasped, as you ran your fingers over the ridges of the fossil.

“Eh, it’s not big deal,” he shrugged nonchalantly, though his complexion and fins framing his face seemed to warm at your praise.

“What!? I want something pretty too!” Willow came out from behind you to start rifling through the bag herself. She pulled out a giant abalone shell, the mother-of-pearl iridescence shining rainbows across its surface.

“Dibs!” Willow declared before running to hide her newly acquired treasure. You and Dresden looked at each other for a moment, and broke out into chuckles. You looked up to admire how the scales framing his eyes shimmered copper and green as he laughed.

“Guess, Willow likes hers,” you snickered, “Must have taken some effort to find this stuff.”

Dresden watched your hands as you traced the ridges of the ancient fossil.

“Like I said, it’s not a big deal,” he said and looked up at you through long, dark lashes, “Consider it a reward for coming out today. Figured if you got some positive reinforcement, you’d want to come out with us more often.”

You sighed and looked up at your friend with annoyance. Dresden put his hands up in apologetically, knowing he touched a nerve.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you already know how it is for me,” you retorted trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. You looked over to where Romero and Micah doing backflips off the Siren, Micah’s laughter ringing through the air. As you sat curled on the edge of the platform, you felt a pull in your chest for not being able to fully enjoy the day with him. Dresden saw your look and made a face you couldn’t quite interpret.

“Listen,” he started, “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure there are plenty of people who have lived next to a body of water their entire lives and are still afraid of it.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so afraid of the water if it stopped producing such obnoxious mermen.”

“You say obnoxious, others might use the word ‘charming’.”

“Charming, huh? Doesn’t sound like anybody I know…”

“Give me a chance, and maybe I’ll show you what they mean,” he replied, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Ew, who even are you?” you laughed, “Keep talking to me like that and I’m gonna have to bop you one.”

“Oooh, those are fighting words. Why don’t you come down here and say that to my face? Oh… wait…”

You must have given him your meanest glare because when he saw your face he started laughing uncontrollably. He started to float on his back still shaking with laughter, when you got an idea. You took the tennis ball from out of Teddy’s mouth.

“Hey Dres! Heads up!” you called and tossed the neon yellow tennis ball to the merman who caught it swiftly with one hand. He looked down at the ball confused and looked up to see a gigantic mass of brown fur about to land on his face. Dresden’s girlish shriek and the gigantic splash of water made you double over in laughter. You were starting to catch your breath again when a huge form stepped up onto the platform next to you.

“What’s so funny?” Micah asked, watching Dresden tease Teddy into doggy-paddling in circles to chase his precious tennis ball. You stood up quickly and tried to straighten yourself out.

“Ha… it’s nothing, just Dresden being stupid,” you said with a small smile. Micah took a moment to observe your face and your ears warmed under the attention.

“You know… It’s good to see you out with all of us. I get worried about you sometimes,” he remarked, watching Dresden continue to tease Teddy in the water. Your thoughts paused for a moment as a warm feeling bloomed in your chest, heart fluttering like a bird. You liked knowing that he thought about you, even if it was just out of friendly concern.

Shouldn’t you be thinking about someone who was actually your girlfriend?

“I’m used to it,” you replied, “Not all of us can have a doting partner to keep an eye on them.”

Micah seemed to cringe at the reference to his girlfriend.

“Actually, me and Becca broke up…” he confided. You turned your head to look at him in shock. There was a sort of dejected look in his big brown eyes. The two of you sat in silence and you thought about his bright, beautiful girlfriend…

No… ex-girlfriend…

Becca was a vibrant personality, energetic and friendly. When you were all younger, Micah and every other teenage boy in town couldn’t help but be infatuated with her. The summer you left for university, Micah had finally built up the courage to ask her out. Four years and one art degree later, when you finally returned to your hometown, it seemed like this gorgeous couple were well on their way to getting married. You nursed this crush for years, never entertaining the idea of actually being with Micah because he always seemed just out of reach…

Until now, I guess…

You reached out to grasp his big furry hands with your smaller ones when you saw the sad look on his face.

“Micah, I’m sorry,” you apologized. He gripped your hand in response and smiled a small smile at you.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. Things don’t work out sometimes,” he sighed. You both looked at each other for a moment in a silence that stretched out a little longer than was comfortable. You looked down and you were still holding his hand and your palm was starting to sweat. With how hard your heart was starting to beat, your were afraid that he was going to notice your pulse quickening. Your mind raced to fill up the awkward silence with something… anything.

“Hey, you wanna race?” you blurted out before you even thought about the words coming out of your mouth. Before you could register the situation you put yourself in, Micah’s face lit up with a big smile.

“You’re on. Winner has to buy loser a case of beer!” he exclaimed as he went to unload the spare paddle board.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

Willow’s gentle voice called your name, snapping you out of your panicked fog. She must have overheard your conversation because she looked just was panicked as you did.

“Hey, um, what’s this about you paddling with Micah?” Willow asked, alarmed. You saw Micah approaching with the boards and paddles.

“I don’t know, Willow, I just blurted it out,” you whispered. Willow looked at you and then at Micah, who was already setting up the boards.

“Okay look, you already know what to do. Micah already taught you. Just don’t look down and you’ll be fine, okay?” Willow coached you before you felt a warm hand pull gently at your wrist.

You barely registered where you were, until a paddle was pushed into your hands and you were standing on the board out in open water. Your eyes were parallel to the horizon the entire time you waited for Micah to push himself out as well, but you couldn’t help but notice how dark the water was below you, stretching down so far, light couldn’t even penetrate it. You’re heart was pounding in your ears.

Somehow, you managed to paddle yourself out and follow Micah on his board, even though you gripped the paddle so tight, your knuckles turned white. Micah turned around to give you a big grin and call your name.

“Better catch up! I can already taste that beer!” He called over his shoulder. You did your best to smile back despite the nausea rising up in your stomach and your heart thumping heavily in your chest.

I will buy you fifty cases of beer if it means I’ll never have to do this ever again, you thought as you moved the paddle mechanically.

You focused on keeping your eyes forward and paddling the way Micah had taught you. It seemed like you were doing okay, too, following Micah’s form toward the designated finish line until a random current caught you and pulled you away from the boats.

Stay calm. Don’t panic. Stay calm. Don’t panic.

Looking up to see the boats getting smaller as you drifted away, you heard a loud buzzing in your ears as you felt panic rise up through your spine. Suddenly, a random wake surged upwards in front of you, causing the nose of your board to tip up and backwards. The last thing you heard was Willow screaming your name and the ringing in your ears reaching a fever pitch before your back hit the water.

You gasped as you sunk and started choking on the water filling your lungs. The sudden chill of the water paralyzed you, even though you did everything you could to will your numb arms and legs to move. The world around you was just about to dim until you felt a pair of arms wrap around you and swiftly pull you to the surface.

When you reached the open air, you started coughing up all the water that you had swallowed. Your hair was pressed flat and wet against your face, blocking your vision, not that you could see, anyway, with the way your head was spinning. You clutched at broad shoulders and felt an arm hook your legs around a waist. A familiar voice- Dresden’s voice was repeating your name.

“I need you breath in and out really slow, okay? We can’t have you hyperventilating. Big breath in. Big breath out.” You breathed slowly like he instructed, your body clinging to his like a blind koala. You felt one arm hold you tightly against a firm torso and a big hand gently brush wet hair, plastered to your face, out of your eyes. He then cradled your cheek, keeping your head still, looking into your eyes with his striking hazel ones. Dresden’s defined jaw was clenched and his eyes were devoid of its usual mischief.

Why so serious?

You giggled a little bit, panic turning into hysterics.

“There she is. Hey, you’re okay. I got you,” he spoke softly, relief in his voice. His vibrant eyes were still flicking back in forth between your own searching for something. For what, you weren’t sure but the funny way his face looked made more giggles bubble up through your chest.

“I don’t think giggling is a symptom of a concussion, so we’re probably good,” the merman observed, “Hold on to my back and I’m gonna swim you back, okay?”

You nodded wordlessly in response and unhooked your legs from around his waist. He twisted around in your arms and started swimming towards Lobo. Dresden’s powerful arms sliced through the water propelling the two of you forward, but he was careful enough to make sure to keep your head above water. When you approached Lobo, Romero pulled you out of the water and Willow wrapped you up in a thick beach towel. Your fully drenched clothes didn’t help the shiver that wracked your body despite the warm weather. Micah ran up from behind your two friends.

“What happened out there?! Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing your arms furiously over the towel, trying to warm your shaking body. Before you could say anything you heard Dresden’s voice interrupt you from the water.

“She got swept out by a current. When she fell, the undertow caught her. Maybe instead of dicking around, you should have kept an eye on her,” he ground out, angrily. Micah’s eyes flashed to Dresden, anger and confusion bleeding into his face.

“What the fuck, Dres? How is that fair?” Micah retorted, volume of his voice rising.

“Enough!” you yelled before your two friends could start hurling more insults at each other.

Dresden let out a curse and dove under the water, swimming away. Your shoulders drooped and you started to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. At the awkward silence around you, you closed your eyes, not being able to stop the tears from welling up. Willow wrapped her arms around you as you cried silently on the way home.

༻✦༺　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Through your high windows you could see the light of the waxing moon shining dimly through the redwood trees surrounding your house. You were on your father’s old corduroy couch, wrapped in your thickest cardigan, with Teddy’s big head resting in your lap, softly snoring away.

Willow and Romero insisted on staying the night with you to make sure you were okay after your fall, but you told them you didn’t want to ruin their day more than you already did. When you finally promised that you would go to the neighbors if you felt strange, they took their leave. Hours later, you felt nothing but exhaustion and embarrassment at what happened.

You leaned your head against the cushion, closing your eyes to listen to the lo-fi music playing softly from your laptop. Distantly, if you focused, you could also hear the gentle push and pull of the tides breaking in front of your home.

Your mind drifted to the confusion on Micah’s face when he saw you pulled from the water and grabbed one of the cushions to shove in your face to muffle a groan.

Seriously? What the hell was I thinking?

You then thought about Dresden and the way his voice sounded when he yelled at Micah. Dresden almost always had a confident smile on his face, making crass jokes and pulling pranks. To see him so upset formed a knot in your stomach.

Gently lifting Teddy’s head, you got up from the couch to walk to the art studio. You knew it was too soon to try to start working again, but you needed to feel the charcoal in between your fingertips- to feel like there was at least something you could control. You found the photograph of the old church and set it up next to your easel, making sure there was enough light on both the blank sketchbook and the reference.

Using the general shape of the building and the mass of foliage surrounding it you started sketching out general locations of where everything was. Then, you started adding in rough detail shaped as a guideline for how to paint. When you looked back at the photograph, though, something felt off. The trees in you sketch didn’t carry the same presence as it did in the photograph.

Is it the proportions? The shading?

You flipped a page to start over, determined to capture the ambience that you felt when you found the hidden church. Again, you sketched the general outline, but started with detailing the church. By the time you managed to sketch out most of the building, something in the proportion was off. You rubbed your charcoal dusted fingers on your forehead, willing away the frustration you felt growing behind your brows.

Before you could throw down your charcoal and call it a night, you heard Teddy whining from the other room. When you rounded the corner, your dog was pawing at the door, eager to get outside. Before you could even fully open the door, his massive form pushed his way out and made a break for the dock, barking ceaselessly into the night. You sighed in exasperation before running after your giant dog to stop him from waking the neighbors.

When you caught up to Teddy, you found him laying on the edge of the dock, nose sniffing at something swimming in the dark depths of the water, tail wagging wildly. Teddy gave another loud bark at a splash and you shushed him.

“Teddy, you’re gonna get us in trouble,” you chided, tuffing at his collar to bring him back inside.

“Gotta say, he’s got a pretty good nose,” came a voice from below the dock that made you yelp in surprise. Dresden swam out into the moonlight and you let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Jesus, Dres! Can we keep my near-death experiences to once a day? Thanks,” you breathed, unclenching your fist from your rumpled cardigan.

“Heh, sorry,” he let out, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

You went to sit at the end of the dock next to Teddy, legs hanging off the edge, toes dipping into the water. Neither of you said a word until you both looked at each other to smile awkwardly. Dresden almost always had something to say, so his silence unnerved you.

“What are doing here so late, Dres?” you asked, breaking the long silence. Dresden floated for a moment worrying his lip between his teeth and then finally spoke.

“I came to check on you…,” he stated, “and to apologize.”

Your brows furrowed and you wrapped your cardigan tighter around your body. You watched him for a moment, observing his face without saying anything.

“So,“ he started, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "Are you doing okay?”

You thought for a moment, stroking the downy fur of Teddy’s ear.

“Yeah, I’m doing okay…” you said, picking your words carefully, “Are you?”

Dresden looked at you in confusion.

“Yeah…? I’m not the one that almost drowned today,” he chuckled, albeit nervously. You let out another deep sigh, this time in exasperation.

“How am I supposed to know? You yell at Micah, who didn’t do anything mind you, and then you just left all mad! I’m not the one that needs an apology, Dresden,” you argued. This time you held his gaze, almost daring him to look away. Dresden did his best to match your stare, but then ran his hands across his face and his hair in frustration.

Before he could get a word in edgewise, you interrupted, “You guys are literally best friends and I already feel bad enough for ruining everybody’s day. I don’t want to be the reason why you two stop talking to each other.” You shifted your weight to lay on your stomach and rest your chin on your crossed arms, not unlike how Teddy looked, next to you. Dresden disappeared beneath the surface of the water and popped up again at the edge of the dock, pulling himself up out of the water enough to be at your to eye level. You pointedly held his hazel gaze until he rolled his and sighed in defeat.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow and apologize. For you. Satisfied?”

Both of you stared at each other for a long moment before sharing a big grin. When you two started snickering like little kids with a secret, a weight lifted from your conscience.

“I never got a chance to thank you for saving me out there,” you said after the soft chuckles you shared subsided, “Thank you. And I appreciate you not telling Micah what really happened.”

Dresden made another incomprehensible face, but you could almost anticipate his next question.

“Why don’t you just tell him you’re afraid of deep water? I doubt he’d care,” he asked, his turn to look you straight in the eye. You looked away as you tried to figure out how to best articulate your response.

“The thing is, is that I care,” you tried, but he just cocked his head to the side in confusion.

“You said it yourself, I’ve lived at Lake Obsidian my entire life, it’s completely irrational!” You buried your face in your arms, thumping your head against the wood deck. “He’ll think I’m a freak for hiding something like that for so long.”

You kept hiding your face in embarrassment and heard a soft curse. Dresden muttered under his breath, “I can’t believe I’m doing this…”

You lifted your head, “Sorry, what?”

“I’ll help you get over your…” he waved a hand in your general direction and said, “issue.”

You were mildly offended and confused.

“And why would you want to do that?” you asked.

“I’ll be sleep better knowing that the next time you try to impress Micah, you won’t end up at the bottom of the lake. Gods know that Micah’s big ass can’t swim as well as I can,” he concluded.

You flushed bright red at Dresden’s blatant remark.

Was I being that obvious?

“Okay then, let’s do it,” you promised before you could talk yourself out of it. Dresden gave you his signature cocky grin.

“Micah’s really lucky. I’ll see you tomorrow before sunset by Driftwood Beach. Bring a paddle board,” he instructed before disappearing beneath the dark water.

“Good night to you, too…” you muttered as stood up, watching the waxing moon’s reflection ripple in the water.

As you and Teddy walked back up to your house, you replayed the conversation over again in your head. That night you dreamed of a warm hand cradling your cheek and voice distorted by water whispering Micah’s really lucky.

༻✦༺　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

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#exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster boy #my writing

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animeyanderelover · 3 years

Note

Can you write number 50 to Keinz Drocell?

Consider it as done.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, stalking, kidnapping

Prompt 50: “Tell me, is love supposed to be...this passionate?

Do you know the feeling of being watched constantly? The feeling of eyes drilling themselves into your soul wherever you go? The feeling of slowly going insane and starting to question your sanity? That’s what you were going through. The last few weeks had been more than just nerve wrecking for you. You had the feeling that something was watching your every movement. You had never seen anyone watching you, but your gut told you that you had a stalker. A really talented one since you even felt eyes on you when you were inside your house. You hadn’t told anyone about this so far because you still weren’t sure if you were right or wrong. It would also be pretty useless to inform the police without evidence shown. So you had endured this torture alone without anyone knowing. It had gotten worse and worse the longer it lasted and by now you couldn’t help, but always look around when you were walking on the streets. But no one seemed suspicious. Just normal people minding their own business. No one looked like a stalker to you. And that drove you crazy.

It had been late at evening when you had gotten home, the sun had already started to set down, illuminating the sky in warm colors. And you were done. Work was so stressing for you, probably you snapped at pretty much everyone who looked at you longer than a second. You guessed having the feeling of being watched had made you sensitive regarding this topic. And even now the gaze was still on you. In your own four walls. You really hoped that this all was just a really bad case of paranoia and nothing more. But that still didn’t stop you from covering yourself with the blankets when you changed in your nightclothes. It there really was somebody watching you, you wouldn’t let them see you naked. After you were finished with changing you checked twice if all of the windows and doors were locked up. You knew that this probably looked a bit overcautious, but you felt a bit more at ease when you did this. You glanced out of the window, looking at the streets of London. Since it was getting late the crowds out there slowly died out, the streets slowly getting empty. And that’s when your eyes suddenly stopped at a specific person out there. A man who had light orange hair and was wearing a blue tailcoat and a black top hat. A music box was hanging around his neck.

Why you had stared at him in the first place? You didn’t know, probably because he stood with his clothes clearly out from the crowd. Or it was maybe the fact that he was just standing there, not caring about the people passing by him and glancing curiously at him. He just stood there. Right in front of your house. Was he waiting for someone? You just stood there, leaning on your window to catch a glimpse at his face, but he had his head hung low so that you weren’t able to. A few minutes passed by and he still didn’t move an inch. You had heard from one of your friends that some humans were able to fall asleep whilst standing. Was that the case? Why did you even mind so much? You should just lay down in your bed. Other people could take care of him. But just as you were about to turn around the man suddenly lifted his head. He was handsome, you gave him that. He had amethyst colored eyes and some pretty looking symbol was painted under his right eye. For a moment you were just taking in all his features before you realized something. His gaze was fixicated on you, his amethyst eyes focusing on you. That’s when you felt it over you washing. The same feeling that had seemed to follow you this past few weeks. No way! Was this man your stalker?! Both of you stared at each other for a few moments and you could feel your heart drumming against your chest, your mind racing with panicked thoughts. That’s when the man suddenly turned away from you, disappearing in the crowd. You watched him until you couldn’t see him anymore, letting a breath out you didn’t know you were holding in and closing the curtains. Had you just seen your stalker? But why was he suddenly showing himself?

You woke up later that night. You didn’t know why exactly, probably because the sleep you had gotten so far wasn’t very relaxing. That damn guy was even watching you in your sleep. His face had been everywhere in your dreams. You sighed and turned around so that you were facing the door leading out of the room. You hadn’t opened your eyes so far and didn’t want too. That was at least until you felt your skin crawling with uneasiness. It was the feeling you always had when someone was watching you. But right now it felt so intense, too intense. As if someone was standing right in the room and watching you. You slowly opened one of your eyes. You nearly suffered from a heart attack then and there. Only inches away from you was kneeling the same man who had looked at you this evening and who’s face had haunted you in your dreams. “AAAHHH!!!!” You let a terrified scream out, pushed him out of your way and raced towards the door. But before you could reach the door you suddenly felt something cold wrapping itself around your legs. You saw how your face was racing towards the hard and dirty ground, preparing yourself for the most likely painful impact, but it never came. Instead you felt two arms grabbing you under your armpits and preventing you to meet the ground.

“Please be more careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.” You tensed up when you heard his velvet voice. You turned your head around to get a better look at him. He was staring intensely at you, giving you the feeling that he wanted to pierce your soul with his somewhat emotionless eyes. “W-who are you? And what do you want?” He tilted his head a bit at your question. “My name?” He sounded almost clueless. He became silent and looked like he tried to find an answer to your question. Did he really not know what his name was? “I suppose...that my name is Keinz Drocell.”, he spoke after a few moments. Took him long enough. “And I’m here to take you.” He sounded so awfully calm whilst saying that as if it was someone normal. You on the other hand felt downright horrified. How could he sound so...so apathetic? “You’re the one who watched me, didn’t you?” “I did.” Again he sounded terrifying calm. “Do you even realize that what you did and what you’re about to do is wrong?! Are you crazy?!”, you yelled, fear audible in your voice.

“I reasoned with myself that I have to do this because I love you.” He...loved...you? “When I first saw you, you were a shining beauty and originally I planned to turn you into a puppet made out of silver and gold to match your beauty. But when I started watching you I suddenly felt so...weird. It felt like something invisible pulled me to you. The way you laugh, talk and move. All of it was a masterpiece. I came to realize that if I would turn you into a puppet, I would ruin all of this. Not even the most noble materials could suit you. You’re already a masterpiece.” Turning you into a puppet?! The most noble materials?! You a masterpiece?! What was he talking about?! You had started shaking. This guy was scaring the living shit out of you! “But there was another thing that made me realize that you’re special.” Another one?! “Whenever I look at you I feel a tingling sensation in my core. I reasoned, that I must be human, but then why do I feel so empty without you? I never realized how lonely I was until I was away from you. I came to the conclusion that I don’t like it when I can’t see you and I also don’t like it when you spent your time with other people. It feels like I’m burning when I see how they dare to ruin such a masterpiece of you. So I was thinking to myself, why not take you with me? I’m sure that I’ll get endless inspiration from you and one day the both of us could probably create together puppets.”

You didn’t know what exactly came over you in that moment. It was probably pure survival instinct. But you suddenly turned around and swinged your fist with his face. A hollow sound was heard and in the next moment you felt pain shooting through your hand. You cried out and instantly pulled your hand back, observing your knuckles. Where your hand had hit his face the skin started to turn red already and some of your skin had even been scratched open from the impact. You stared stunned at your hand. His skin... It hadn’t felt normal. It was too hard and too cold to be human skin. When you looked up you shrieked sharply. His head was turned around in an angle that couldn’t be considered normal. It became even more eerie when he slowly rotated his head 360 degree until he was facing you again. His cheek looked perfectly fine, not a single scratch on his skin. He glanced down at your hand before slowly taking your hand in one of his gloved and caressing with his thumb the reddened and partially peeled off skin. “Didn’t I tell you to be more careful? Now you’ve ruined your skin. But if I remember right your body will heal this wound very soon again.”

You had the feeling that your eyeballs would pop out of your skull if you would continue staring at him with your eyes wide open. You glanced back and forth between your hand and his face. Then you did something unexpected. You lifted your not hurt hand towards his face, touching his skin carefully and tracing the tip of your fingers over it. That was no skin! What was that? It was cold and very smooth. Was that...wood? Keinz had started to stare intensely at you after you had started to caress his face. “What in the world...are you?”, you asked him shocked. He blinked a few times. “I’m human. I suppose.” “You don’t know what you really are?”, you asked him. For a moment he fell silent. “Am I not human?” So he really didn’t know. You almost felt a bit bad for him. When you were about to pull your hand away from his head one of his hands suddenly grabbed your wrist. “Don’t stop. For some reason I like it when you caress my face.” He pressed your hand against his face again. You were too perplexed to do anything else in the moment so you just continued stroking his face.

“Do you have experience in love?”, he suddenly asked out of the blue. “Huh?”, you asked confused, catched off-guard. But after a few moments you answered:”I suppose I have?” “Tell me, is love supposed to to be...this passionate?” You froze, shifting your gaze to the ground. How could you answer that question? He was obviously no human and seemed to be a bit lost in general when it came to how to act around other humans. Would he even understand you if you would answer him? You doubted it, but he was obvious waiting for your answer. “No. Normally it isn’t. But I guess you’re just a special case?” You sounded extremely unsure. Keinz seemed to try to find a deeper meaning behind your words. “So...you say I’m different?” “More or less.”, you replied. Keinz stared down at his hands clenching them to fists and opening them again. “I’m no human?” You kept quiet, clueless about how to help him. For a short moment you were certain that you saw a flash of sadness in his eyes, but they turned quickly back to their emotionless look. “I guess it doesn’t matter whether I’m human or not.” His grip around your wrist tightened and he moved his face closer to yours, too close for your taste. “As long as I have you with me I feel something. I feel emotions. I feel human. That only adds a new reason for me to take you. Even if I’m not human, as long as I can feel like one by keeping you with me I’m fine.”

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere keinz #yandere keinz drocell

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ladyideal · 4 years

Note

49 and 200 with bones please

49. “Maybe if you actually stop staring at her and talk to her, you might have a chance.”

200. “He loves you, you know? He’s just afraid of admitting it.”

Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Reader

Word Count: 536

Warnings: A punch

A/n: Sorry for the wait! I'm working on getting the smut done by tonight, so I can have it up tomorrow. Have this little gem for now.

"You are being ridiculous, Bones," Jim grumbled. "You've been eyeballing her for months now. Months!"

"I'm not interested in her, Jim, " The brunette swirled his bourbon. "Quit giving me those puppy eyes."

"I just say it how it is," The other shrugged. "Maybe if you actually stop staring at her and talk to her, you might have a chance."

The doctor merely snorted, but his eyes snapped back at you from across the party when you moved to greet a friend.

Finally Jim sighed, and suddenly stood up from the booth he was sharing with his best friend. "Ridiculous. I'll go tell her myself, since you're not going to anytime soon."

"Wait, Jim, no! Dammit."

You and your friend spoke quietly, away from the party. It was much too loud for your liking, and you were ready to finish your whiskey, thank Scotty for inviting you, and hit the hay.

"Hey Jim," You greeted, as the blonde swaggered confidently towards you, all the while oozing charm. "What brings you here?"

"Lieutenant, mind if I borrow our Y/N real fast?" And before your friend could even acknowledge Jim, you were tugged away by your sleeves.

"Jim, I don't wanna dance right now," You half exasperatedly, half reluctantly followed him onto the dance floor. "He's not interested. You can stop."

"I'm not spending my next two weeks watching my two best friends give lovey dovey eyes while being apart," The Captain heavily disagreed. "He loves you, you know? He’s just afraid of admitting it. I'm not giving up till you two are together."

"And what about you, Captain Sexypants? Anyone caught your eye?" You retorted, trying to flick away his hands until he gently grasped them.

"Tonight's not about me, Y/N," He shook his head, sliding a hand to your waist. "Is he watching yet?"

"Glaring," You corrected, shifting side to side.

Leonard was indeed glaring at your direction, watching with narrowed eyes as Jim swayed along with the beat. His hands tightened on his glass so hard that his knuckles were turning white.

"No response?"

"None," You shook your head, trying your best to stop the dance. "I don't think this is going anywhere, Jimmy. Thank you for the help, but he isn't-."

"I know what to do, but I might get punched."

Those words were all you needed to understand that he was once again, about to make a bad decision.

"Jim, no," You cautioned.

"Jim, yes," The smug bastard, winked at you, before leaning in for a kiss.

Instead, a glass of bourbon flew towards his head, which he ducked in time. But failed to defend against that punch that Leonard threw.

"Get your hands off her, Jim," The doctor growled as his best friend staggered backward from the force.

"Alright, alright, Bones," The Captain held his hands up in surrender. "You weren't gonna make a move, so I helped you out."

Seemingly satisfied by the answer, Leonard turned back to you with an apologetic smile. "Sorry for that, sweetheart. Dance with me?"

Over Leonard's shoulder, you grinned as Jim gave you two thumbs up and a wink before disappearing back into the crowd.

You would have to thank him for helping.

"Sure."

Eats Everything: @asraime @mournthewicked @aspiring-ginger @bluesclues-1234

Trekkies: @marvelouslytrekking @lykxzandlove

Send in a prompt!

#leonard mccoy #leonard bones mccoy #leonard mccoy x reader #bones mccoy #mccoy x reader #star trek #star trek aos

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Lost and Found (Seven)

Soooo this Chapter only did like, one of the things it was supposed to and everything else just sort of happened and I got tired of arguing with it to make it behave so here, have a Chapter Seven that is only slightly like the one I outlined.

I made myself cry with this first part, so Tissue Warning!

MASTERLIST HERE

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37%

“JARVIS?”

“The constant tests you’ve been running with the new suit have taken a toll, sir. My original algorithm assumed you would be resting more days than not, as one should when faced with the possibly of an upcoming expiration date but with your continued activity, my projections have been rendered obsolete.”

“Okay.” Tony squeezed at the blood toxicity monitor until the casing edges cut into his palm. “Newest estimations?”

“Given your rate of use with the reactor and the new, more powerful prototype, my previous count of three months with minimal usage will need to be dialed back to little more than eight weeks, sir.”

“Okay.” He said again, almost neutrally as if he wasn’t discussing an expiration date with his AI. “Okay, little more than eight weeks. So all the tests I ran in the War Machine prototype over the last few days cost me what, seven days?”

“Eleven days, actually.”

“Okay.” Tony said a third time, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. “That's-- thanks, J.”

The tests were necessary, they really were. Coding Rhodey’s suit ahead of time was important because Tony was running out of time. The Senate was definitely going to order him to turn over the tech, and even if they didn’t, the suits would definitely be confiscated by the Department of Defense at some point whether Tony was around or not. The least he could do was make sure armor could only be used by one man, that the technology inside was coded to the one person Tony knew wouldn’t make a mockery or a weapon out of what was supposed to be a shield.

Right after Obadiah, Rhodey had been so purposefully casually about eyeballing the still unfinished silver suit and commenting, “You should come up with a name for your tech, Tony. Calling it ‘the suit’ doesn’t seem like enough. I’d call it...War Machine or something.”

War Machine and Tony had etched the name in tiny letters along the jawline of the helmet so when Rhodey suited up for the first time, he’d hopefully remember that throw away comment and laugh a little bit.

War Machine and it was fine tuned to the point of near impossible maneuvers, filled to the brim with every prototype weapon Tony had designed for his own suit and a few more that were meant for something a little more hulking, a little more heavy duty. An individual arc reactor placed within the molded chest would power the suit for ever with the added benefit of not poisoning the wearer and--

--and Tony’s hands shook when he unscrewed the cap on a green smoothie.

37%.

“How is the uh--” the first drink was always brutal, and Tony had to put his head down and suck in a deep breath to get over the taste. “--how is the suitcase suit coming? We need a better name for that, don’t we?”

“Perhaps we can call it a football, sir.”

“Right.” Tony nodded a few times. “Carry it in a briefcase just like all the nuke launch codes. That will definitely reinforce the Senate’s thought of my suit being a weapon of mass destruction. Great idea.”

“Your mockery wounds me.”

“No, I was serious.” Tony laughed up at the petulant AI. “We’ll call it a football. Make Happy practice playing catch with it. Uhhhh okay. Football. How is it coming?”

“Nearly completed.”

“Good. I need an option beyond hauling the full suit everywhere, and so will Rhodey. Have we started construction on the individual gauntlets yet? I’m thinking something that comes out of my watch.”

“It will have to be near nano technology to accomplish that, but we can try.”

“Let’s try. I’d like the football ready before Monaco, I need to take it for a test drive somewhere outside of Dum-E’s fire extinguisher range.” Tony glanced over at the impressive dent in the lab ceiling that had been one of his very first test runs. “Also some place where if the repulsors come online too soon, I can hit the atmosphere and not the ceiling.”

“Of course sir. Hurtling off into unknown and uncharted space would always be the preferred option before bouncing off support beams and landing on priceless car collections.”

“You know me too well, J.” Tony leaned back in the chair and blew out a deep breath. “Show me the night sky. Stars above Manhattan, maybe. What I’d be looking at if I actually had the time to build that tower.”

“Does this mean you’ve decided to scrap the plans for Stark Tower?” The space above Tony’s head lit holographic blue then settled into a starry night, the correct constellations and moon placement for the Manhattan sky projected against the ceiling.

“I won’t have a chance to even get the blueprints approved.” Tony stared up at the stars, sipping idly from his smoothie. “No sense doing that when I won’t be around to see the ground breaking ceremony.”

“Sir, if I may--”

“Maybe blasting off into the atmosphere wouldn’t be such a bad way to go.” Tony interrupted. “I’ve always wanted to see space, maybe I’ll get lucky and the new suit will tear a hole in the sky and show me what’s beyond, what’s waiting out there.”

And softer, “It’d be a good way to go, don’t you think? Space?”

The artificial star light reflected off the tears gathering in Tony’s eyes and he tried to blink them away. “Would be nice to skip the poisoning and the hospice care and the heart failure and everyone crying, you know. Higher, faster, further like our friend Carol used to say. She did it, she just went right up there into the sky higher, faster further and she never came back down again. Fuckin’ wild.”

Another sip. “My repulsors are better than the prototype light speed engine was, a little bit of torque and we could break the sound barrier ten times over and then some. I could take the suit up until the thrusters give out and then we could just float up there in the stars. Fall asleep and drift away.”

JARVIS was quiet and Tony put a heart to his chest as it squeezed around a too choppy breath. “Would be nice to just fall asleep, J. It’d be nice to finally get some rest.”

The stars above Manhattan moved too slowly to notice, but Tony sat and watched them anyway, alone in the semi dark lab for close to an hour before his watch pinged that it was time to get on the plane towards New York.

“Save this for me.” Tony reached out and touched one of the tiny specks of lights, his fingers passing through the hologram. “Save it so I can look at it again, okay?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Thank you.” Tony gathered up a few things for his pockets then ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. If he was going to go on what was sort of a first date with an amnesiac former soldier, he should probably wash some of the depression off first. “I’m off to the Expo, J. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.” JARVIS said automatically, and then, “Please come home again, sir. I wish you all the rest in the world, but I’d rather it be here than drifting off in the stars.”

Tony’s smile up at the ceiling was wobbly and a little sad.

“Good night, J.”

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

The Stark jet cut the nearly five hour flight from Malibu to New York down to little more than two hours, and Tony spent most of it sitting next to Pepper going through notes for his speech, additional paperwork for the company and what looked like several minutes of nothing but Tony teasing the formidable redhead and Pepper giving it all right back and then some if Tony’s faux wounded expressions were anything to go by.

They were laughing and a few times Tony reached to hold Pepper’s hand, winding their fingers together and kissing her knuckles while Pepper just rolled her eyes at whatever he said. They were clearly best friends, clearly in sync after what James had found out was over a decade of working together and it was honestly remarkable to see.

More than once Tony finished Pepper's sentences, at least twice she took a bite of her food and then handed him the fork to take a bite of his own. Tony reached to touch the reactor beneath his shirt and Pepper brushed his hands away, she fiddled with the top button of her suit and Tony suggested showing more cleavage if she didn't like being so buttoned up and Pepper only sighed.

A very very quiet part of the soldier felt a twinge of jealousy whenever Pepper would get a full laugh out of Tony, but he pushed it away every time. Jealousy over such a close friendship was ridiculous and unnecessary and the sort of thing that made James's throat taste bitter. He didn't remember past relationships, didn't know if he'd ever been in love but he remembered being jealous when other people could be open with their love and their desires and he had to hide.

Why he had hid, James wasn't really sure. But he remembered the jealousy twisting his stomach and the unfairness of it all making his chest too tight and he didn't want to feel that way ever when he looked at Tony and Pepper.

So James pushed it away and looked out the window instead, watched the clouds race by beneath the jet as it tore through the sky towards New York and when Tony finally finished up with Pepper and came to sit in the chair across from him, James looked up with a ready smile.

“Hey. All done working?”

“At least for right now. Plane rides are supposed to be relaxing, not about crunching numbers or ignoring the person I'm set to spend the evening with.” Tony stretched out in the chair and loosened his tie as he looked James over, lingering over the stretch of the red sweater over James's frankly ridiculous shoulders. Wow. “You--” seriously, wow. “-- you look great.”

“Duds this nice will make any fella look great.” James's heart flip flopped a little when Tony kept looking, and he touched at his empty left sleeve self consciously. “Sure was nice of the store people to send over one of those fancy pins for this side. I just cut the sleeves off all my other shirts.”

“You'll be two thumbs up in no time, so please don't hack at your new clothes.” Tony nudged his foot against James. “You'll need both sleeves eventually.”

James grinned and slid his foot further alongside Tony's shoe. “Sure thing, Tony.”

“You know,” Tony cocked his head and tried to pretend like playing footsy wasn't making him blush. He was over forty years old, damn it. “When you're relaxed you sound like you're from New York but like, New York from the movies. Saturday Night Fever, Bronx Tale, West Side Story. That style.”

“Oh yeah?” James raised his eyebrows. “What does that mean?”

“It means--” Tony started to say something about smooth accents and flirty one-liners, about pretty boys with greasy hair and leather jackets and slick dance moves, but changed his mind because it was a little embarrassing to admit his short lived musical obsession had basically shaped his wet dreams for a good five years.

“It means you sort of sound old fashioned. Not in uh-- not in a bad way. My Auntie Peggy was around in the forties and whenever she tells war stories she copies how the boys talked back then and you remind me of it a little bit.”

James still looked confused and Tony waved him off with a self conscious laugh. “Never mind. It doesn't matter. Ignore all that and focus on not cutting up your sweater, yeah? I like the red on you.”

“That's why I picked it out.” James answered honestly, and Tony's dark eyes sparked in interest. “Knew you liked the red and figured if you were gonna dress up, maybe I should dress up a little too?”

“I don't know if I'm necessarily dressed up.” Tony picked at the hem of his suit jacket. “The monkey suit is standard outfit for CEO's of multi billion dollar--”

“Former CEO, darling!” Pepper called and Tony grinned, “ --former CEO's of multi billion dollar companies. I wouldn't be wearing this at all if I thought Pep would let me wear my sneakers and ACDC shirt. Only upside of this thing is that I can spill cotton candy on my shirt all day and then button the jacket and no one would know any better.”

“Cotton candy?” Oh James remembered that, he knew he did. Overly sweet and pastel colored, sugar-grit teeth and sticky fingers. Eating a big piece of it and then passing some over to St—to St--

--migraine. Instant and blinding--

--passing it over to someone who would get sick after eating only a few bites, so James would toss it in the trash and pretend to have a stomach ache too so they wouldn't feel bad.

Shit his head hurt, but James got a glimpse of dark blue eyes and a stubborn smile before the memory faded away to nothing, and when he opened his eyes again Tony was watching him closely.

“Where'd you go?” Tony asked quietly, and James whispered just as quietly, “I don't... don't really know. You said cotton candy and I got a flash of something... I dunno.”

“Things are coming back to you?”

“I'm not sure.” James leaned forward in the seat and pushed his hand into his hair, groaning under his breath as the migraine throbbed at his temples. “Just bits and pieces is all.”

“Makes sense.” Tony reached to touch James's shoulder but stopped himself at the last second. “I mean, you getting flashes of memories right now. I'm not exactly stable but this is probably the most stable you've been in a while?”

“At least a year.”

“Right.” Again, Tony reached out to try and touch and comfort, and again he let his hand drop away. James hadn't wanted to be touched right away the last time he'd had a hard time, he probably didn't want it now. “Repressed memories have a nasty habit of showing up right when we think we're moving on, life gets low stress and suddenly our dreams get stressful. It happens.”

“Yeah? You real familiar with it?” James tried to slow his breathing down, purposefully inhaling and then forcefully exhaling until the extra oxygen erased the sparks behind his eyes. “Why's that?”

“I'm the king of repressing--”

“Christ, my head hurts. Tony, will you c'mere and sit by me?”

“--memories.” Tony waved at one of the stewardesses and tapped at his own temple so she would bring him some headache medication, then slid out of his own seat and into the one next to James, rotating so their knees touched. “Better?”

“Thank you.” James's fingers tightened in his hair. “Why are you the king of repressing memories?”

“A whole list of reasons that would only make your headache worse.” Tony hesitated, hesitated, hesitated, then finally tried to untangle James's fingers, loosening the digits one by one until James relented and relaxed, clasping Tony's hand warm in his own. “...better?”

“Thank you.” James said again, instantly feeling better now that he was holding tight to Tony instead of pulling at his own hair, the migraine easing as he quit chasing the thought about cotton candy and forced himself back to the moment. “Sorry. Trying to force the memories--”

“--gives you a headache.” Tony finished and James smiled the tiniest bit cos Tony was completing his sentences just like Pepper did. “Yeah been there, done that.”

“Don't wanna ruin tonight by having a headache.” James muttered apologetically. “Sorry, Tony.”

“Tonight hasn't even started.” Tony waved the apology off, squeezed at James's hand and then let go. “Don't worry about it. We'll both have headaches by the time we get through the noise and crowds at the Expo, it's fine.”

“Okay.” James sort of hated that Tony had let go of his hand, but he didn't comment, only smoothed his hair back where it'd come free from the messy bun and cleared his throat. “How far out are we?”

“About an hour.” Tony didn't go back to his own chair, and James nudged at his knee gratefully. “How much news do you watch, James?”

“Um.” James blinked, thrown by the abrupt topic change. “None?”

“None.” Tony repeated. “At all?”

“Don't watch TV unless you're making me watch some god-awful movie.” James admitted and Tony's smile flashed quick and pleased. “Why?”

“I've been on the news a lot lately.” Tony hedged. “Just uh-- just curious if you'd seen anything I needed to explain or apologize for maybe?”

“Apologize?”

“Like if you learned about my weird sunglasses collection or that I eat everything with a three tined fork instead of a four tined like a normal person.” Tony suggested, and James's shoulders shook with quiet laughter. “The press knows a lot about me and you don't really know much about me so...”

He let the sentence trail off, watching closely for anything like recognition on James's face. The downside of a migraine of course, was that it hurt to even breathe. The upside of a migraine was that it was impossible to hide even the smallest reactions when your head felt like it might explode and Tony didn't really want to use it as a way to get a glimpse at James's thoughts, but he did it anyway because he wanted to know.

Truth be told, Tony was starting to wonder just how long he could keep Iron Man quiet from James before it slid from 'need to know basis' towards 'you were lying to me' accusations. If James hadn't figured out that Tony was the same Tony Stark that was also Iron Man, Tony didn't really want to say anything. But if James had figured it out and was just staying quiet for privacy's sake... well Tony didn't want to let it go too long just in case the soldier started to think Tony was leaving him out of things.

So Tony asked again, “Heard anything about me lately?”

“Everything I want to know about you I learn when we're together like this.” James answered, and with a smile that had no business being both shy and almost unbearably hopeful, “And I like all of it so far.”

Tony flushed a surprised pink, and up near the front of the plane, Pepper just rolled her eyes when she caught it.

Idiot boys practically in love.

Sheesh.

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

“I've had a lot of people ask me where the dancers are this time around.” Tony stood up on stage in front of the thousands of people who had come to the Expo tonight, alone except for the old fashioned microphone he held in one hand. “I know, I know, you were hoping for more explosions, more fireworks, definitely some more bikinis and high kicks, right?”

The crowd tittered in agreement and Tony's mouth ticked up in a quick smile. “Yeah, we all love that, we all love science when it’s accompanied by pretty girls and loud music. Here's the thing about science though. Science isn't always big leap forward in technology, it's not always flashy designs and world changing breakthroughs and Nobel prizes. Most of the time science is quiet.”

Appropriately, Tony paused for a breath and the audience held theirs in anticipation.

“Most of the time science is still.” he said even softer, and the crowd edged forward with wide eyes, sure that this was all just build up to something incredible. “Most of the time science is one little adjustment that somehow changes life as we know it and maybe not even as we know it, but changes life as one person knows it and sometimes, that's enough.”

Tony held up the microphone and the cameras zoomed in on it. “This is the same microphone my Dad used at the World's Fair Expo back in World War II. Well--” another one of those quick smiles. “--it's not exactly the same microphone, but it's an exact working replica with exactly the sort of tech upgrades you would expect from Stark Industries. Why does that matter, though? Why do any of you care about me getting weirdly sentimental about a copy of a microphone my Dad once spit all over?”

The audience laughed again and Tony swallowed past the lump in his throat. “It matters because it's only in looking to the past that we find answers for our future. What were once ground breaking theories are today the building blocks our of standard operations. All the pieces that make up my next generation Stark phone started out in something as simple as this mic right here.”

Tony held up the microphone again. “Seventy years ago, my dad stood on a stage just like this one and bragged about a flying car that only got a few inches off the ground. What he considered a spectacular failure was actually the inspiration for my Stark repulsor engines that will revolutionize the fuel industry and put an end to oil spills and dumps in the most fragile parts of our eco systems.”

“The past teaches us how to move forward, what steps to avoid and which leaps to take and we can't forget that. That's why I re-started the Expo-- learning from looking back before we move forward and that's what science is about.”

A smattering of applause and Tony waited until it died down. “Science isn't always flashy.” He said again. “Most of the time it's quiet. But even the quiet discoveries matter, whether they become something that changes the world later on, or never do anything more significant than what this microphone does right here--”

Tony paused, smiled, “--connects us to people we love.”

The lights dimmed and Tony set the modified microphone down on the stage, pressed a few buttons and stepped away as it split into pieces and assembled itself into something of a tripod. The microphone-turned-robot rotated its speaker to face the audience, a separate projector unhinged from the back and--

--”Hey Ma.” A young soldier clearly somewhere sandy, waving at the audience from the holographic screen the microphone had projected above the crowd. “I hope you're having a good time out there tonight, I love you and I miss you and I'll be home soon.”

“This message is for my brother!” Another soldier head to toe in combat gear, grinning into the camera. “Mr. Stark said he'd get you a ticket to the Expo tonight so I hope you showed up! This message is coming to you from way the fuck over in Sand Dune Country and I love you, but I'm glad you're home safe with my new niece-y instead of slogging through this mess with me. Be home soon!”

The messages kept rolling, and one by one different people in the audience burst into tear and cheers as they saw their deployed loved one up on the screen for a surprise message. It had taken months to coordinate-- sending out Stark phones to the soldiers to submit a video, getting tickets to their family and making sure they had a ride to the Expo and a place to stay-- months to coordinate, and Tony stood back behind the curtain of the stage and listened to them play as he looked down at the picture of him and the soldier in the convoy in Afghanistan.

Despite Tony's only half serious warning to the soldier back then, the picture had been promptly posted on social media and now Tony was grateful for it. Three minutes after the picture had been taken the convoy had been attacked and all those young people-- all those kids had been lost.

“Hey Mom, Dad. Sorry I missed your anniversary but I'll be back for Christmas and will make it up in hugs then!”

Tony closed his phone and cleared his throat as the audience burst into shouts when a local boy from Flushing popped up on the screen with his message. Speech was done, crowd was appropriately wowed and now he had a sort of date with James to get back to.

It wasn’t the time to get maudlin and teary, not tonight.

“Tony.” Pepper looked immensely proud, and Tony tore his eyes away from the almost blinding smile on James's face to accept a kiss from her. “Well done. I really thought you were going to bring out the dancers again, and I'm so glad you didn't.”

“It pains me to admit that no science has been accomplished when booty shorts and high heels were in the general vicinity.” Tony said faux seriously. “The dancers were a necessary sacrifice for the moment.”

“Well I appreciate it.” Pepper chuckled and kissed him one more time. “I have to network since apparently everyone wants to talk to the new CEO--”

“--and I have cotton candy to buy and experiment booths to check out.” Tony finished, cutting Pepper off before she could suggest he go along with her. “Toodle-oo and all that. Have fun.”

The moment Pepper disappeared into the crowd, Tony turned back to James, hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels as he asked, “So. How did I do? Can I color you impressed?”

“You can color me whatever you want, Tony.” James grinned and Tony barked a surprised laugh at the blatant flirting. “Was a good speech, but I think it’s the first time I’ve ever heard you really talk about your dad. Were you and him close?”

“Not even a little bit.” Tony shook his head, then motioned for James to follow him to the outer paths of the Expo so they could walk the perimeter where it was a little quieter. “He was always busy working and I was always busy being as obnoxious as possible. He and Ma were gone before I was old enough to realize what I was missing out on so--” Tony shrugged like the memory of that last night with his parents still didn't hurt like a knife in his heart. “--anyway. This whole Expo was his idea, he brought it back in the seventies, always wanted to do it again so I thought now was as good a time as any.”

“Huh.” James looked down at where their hands were nearly touching as they walked, wondering if he could just grab Tony's hand and hold it for a little bit, wondering if that was okay outside of either of them having a panic attack.“You said something about a flying car?”

“Back in the forties, my Dad wanted to show off this flying car idea, so he brought it to the Worlds Fair.” Tony flashed a peace sign at a girl when she squealed and pointed at him in excitement. “Howard's always considered it his great embarrassment, to have created something that failed in the public eye but you know-- it's been seventy something years and we still haven't gotten any closer to flying cars? Even his failure was a good century ahead of it's time.”

“Your Dad's name was Howard? Howard Stark?” That sounded familiar in some empty aching way, but James forgot about it when he stopped in front of what looked like an old timey war advertisement for the draft, pictures in black and white of soldiers marching off in neat lines. It made his head hurt the same way memories always did and he blinked at the display a few times. “What's this?”

“Traditionally the World's Fair and Expo were events to drum up that All American spirit.” Tony tapped the vintage posters and mocked one of the old radio voices, “Look at how great our country is doing with these advancements! Look how much money we have to put this show on! Don't you feel patriotic? Don't wait for the draft, real American men sign up willingly for their country!”

“People could sign up for the army right here at the fair.” Ouch that drummed at the back of James's mind, and when he caught a flash of shaggy blonde hair out of the corner of his eye, the drumming got worse. “They did that?”

“All the time.” Tony scoffed like he couldn't believe it. “Just boys too, kids really. Came for the party, left for the cause. Mind boggling. We don't do that here, no way. I'd never ask people to show up for cotton candy and then hope they join the war effort, that's nuts. But they did back in the day and the boys that went off to war-- “

He sighed out loud. “Well you know. They don't always come back whole. So this is a nice reference to days gone by, little bit of nostalgia, a way to remember them I guess. Besides, America's greatest hero signed up for the war effort at one of these things, it would be a shame to just ignore it I think.”

“Huh.” James didn't want another headache like the one he'd had on the plane so he stepped away from the Army display and towards a cotton candy vendor. “Time for sweets?”

“Oh, it is always time for sweets.”

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

It was easy to get lost in the Expo, easy and more fun than either man had had in ages wandering from booth to booth and taking the circular paths between the connected sections to sample all the different foods, resting on the grass and beneath the planted trees when their feet got tired, browsing through the vendors shops and trying their hand at any scientific demonstration that took volunteers.

James was fascinated by everything from the wireless electronics to the slime that exploded all over them when he added too much of whatever was in the purple beaker. The soldier laughed until he nearly choked seeing Tony with neon green slime in his perfectly combed hair, and was still laughing when Tony dragged him to a demonstration that had a ball and a fancy light and zapped James with enough electricity to make his scruff stand right up on his chin.

“I love roller coasters!” James announced at one point because somehow he knew that was true but Tony begged off the ride with a hand over his arc reactor an apologetic smile so instead they climbed into one of the rowboats at the man made lake and rowed across it to see all the different water experiments-- artificial plant life that would help sustain life in otherwise barren bodies of water, hybrid fish that grew bigger than their predecessors but took less time to mature for a faster food source, personal purification processes that only needed a mild current to activate the device and provide clean drinking water.

After the lake was a sphere that simulated life on a distant planet and James took one look at it and shook his head, digging his feet in figuratively and literally as Tony tugged at his arm and pleaded, “Don't you want to know what it would be like to live on Mars!?” and retorting, “Tony, m'still trying to figure out Earth!”

A display that required goggles and gloves as scientists replicated the creation of new elements, some that synthesized with nothing more than a quiet hiss, some that exploded loud enough to make James grab Tony and turn around, trying to shield the smaller brunette with his body. Tony laughed at him then, laughed and then checked that James was okay and not triggered by it, laughed and then blushed a little when James's arm lingered at his waist just a second longer than necessary.

“Elements are the building blocks of the universe.” James read on a sign after reluctantly letting Tony go. “So this is what everything is made of.”

“Everything.” Tony confirmed.

“So how do they make new ones?”

“Apparently with a bang.” Tony said wryly and James grinned sheepishly.

“Have you made one in that fancy lab?”

“I've never even tried.” Tony admitted after a minute of thought. “I sort of remember Dad talking about making a new one ages ago, he had designs and diagrams for it but I must have only been eight or nine, I barely remember it. I bet his notes are around somewhere in all the boxes Pepper won't let me throw away.”

“Why haven't you tried?” James looked back at the display when another element went bang! and someone else screamed. “Bet you're smart enough to do it.”

“I'm smart enough.” Tony agreed, wrinkling his nose into a smile when James huffed at him teasingly. “But I've been busy, got all these other projects going on and all of them seem more important than creating new building blocks for the universe. That's like designing a new Lego. It's great and all, but who cares? There’s enough of them out there, why do we need another?”

“Lego.” James repeated. “What--”

“I've got millions of them in storage at Malibu, we'll pull them out one day and I'll show you why I hold the MIT record for fastest recorded time building an entire Death Star model.”

“Half those words don't mean anything to me, Tony.” James admitted, tone just a little clipped in frustration. “Sorry.”

“You don't have to apologize for what you're missing.” Tony waved him off and James pointed out, “Happy said that exact same thing to me.”

“He's said the exact same thing to me many times.” They passed a knife display, and Tony pointed one out to James that was somehow even fancier than the one in the store had been. “Except when I black out drunk, then he yells at me for what I miss. He's right to do it, too. How about that knife? You like that one?”

“Too pretty to kill someone with.” James said bluntly, and when Tony's jaw dropped open in shock, he apologized, “Ah hell, sorry. Dunno why I said that.”

“Christ you're intense.” Tony only laughed though, and pushed James on from the display. “Maybe we don't say things like that in the middle of a crowd. Maybe we just get some more cotton candy.”

“Probably a good idea.” James felt foolish for blurting out the killing thing, foolish and embarrassed as hell but it was so easy to speak his thoughts around Tony, that one had just... slipped out.

Usually James thought about what he wanted to say, turned it over in his mind until he felt like it sounded normal, weighed his words and modulated his tone and then spoke, but he didn't have to do that with Tony. He didn't even have to pretend to be okay around Tony, he could just be James and all the broken pieces and panic attacks and saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and then maybe sometimes saying the wrong thing at the right time cos Tony would smile up at him sort of like he was doing right now--

--oh shit, he hadn't been listening.

“Lost you for a minute.” Tony never said it like he was judging James, only ever like he knew what it was like to get lost in his head and maybe be a little afraid of never finding his way out again. “Where'd you go?”

“Was thinkin' bout ya.” The words slipped out soft and a little lyrical, the voice in James's head that Tony said sounded Brooklyn speaking up enough to be smooth and charming. “How it's um-- how it's so easy to be with you.”

“Yeah, I'm a real catch.” Tony sassed immediately, but his smile was just for James when he continued, “You're easy to be around too. Not what I expected when I invaded your booth at the diner for the sake of awkward conversation and what definitely sounded like a proposition.”

“Were you propositionin' me, sugar?” James asked, low and coaxing and surprising because he hadn't meant to call Tony sugar, hadn't meant to turn the conversation this way but now Tony was staring up at him with stars in his eyes and sort of leaning forward and hell, James didn't remember much of anything at all but he knew what this moment meant so he leaned forward too and--

“Oh Jesus, not right here.” Tony jerked back a step, both hands up and expression going guarded even as he tried to laugh the moment off. “No, um-- no. That's not--”

Shit. “Shit, sorry.” James backed up too, face flaming and heart clenching in his chest. “Sorry, Tony I just thought-- I mean you were lookin' at me like that and I thought you wanted--”

“No, you don't have to say sorry, that's not your fault, I should have--” Tony looked like he was sort of panicking, a hand at his chest and another held up so James wouldn't get closer. “Damn it. This-- this just got really awkward.”

“Tony, I'm sorry.”

“Nope. My fault for making you think--” Tony's throat jerked as he swallowed. Hello insecurities from twenty fives years in the closet. “-- it's fine, James. It's fine. Let's just keep walking. There's still a lot to see and I want you to see it all so let's just--” another hard swallow. “Let's just keep walking.”

“Um. Sure.” James fell back into step next to Tony, and after a minute the brunette started talking again, chattering about whatever they were passing, telling a story about something he and Rhodey did one time or another, and after another few minutes James relaxed enough to even laugh a little at the stories.

But the moment from before was gone, the easy smiles and the quick laughter, the way their hands had brushed once, twice, three times as they wandered the paths.

That moment was gone and James felt it's absence like a slap in the face.

He really couldn't trust his mind could he? Not even in this, not even when he was one hundred percent sure Tony had wanted a kiss.

Couldn't trust his mind even with things that should come natural, cos findin’ a fella and wanting to kiss him-- that should come real natural right?

....Right?

Christ, he was broken.

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

“Ms. Potts, you asked me to find as much information as possible on James?” Natalie found Pepper out on the balcony of the hotel room, overlooking the lights of the Expo in the adjoining field. “I'm afraid I wasn't able to find much.”

“Alright then.” Pepper was halfway through her first drink of the night, weary lines creased at the corner of her eyes. “Tell me what you found anyway.”

“The diner where Mr. Stark and James met was apparently an every day spot for James.” Natalie rattled off the information she'd learned in short, quick sentences. “Waitresses say he was polite but quiet. He glared at anyone who messed with them so they always let him stay longer than anyone else. They identified the shelter down the block as one where James slept, I spoke to the church folk who run the shelter and they said he was quiet and polite as well. Has no or little memories of anything past a year ago, has never showed any signs of violence or even a temper and they have no idea what happened to his arm beyond knowing he used to be a soldier.”

“Okay well.” Pepper pursed her lips and blew out a breath. “Anyone that would keep waitresses from being harassed and could survive a year in a shelter without losing their temper couldn't be all that bad. Why do you look so worried about him?”

“Not worried.” Natalie smoothed the anxious from her expression. The news about James was so opposite of who she knew 'James' was that it was giving her a headache, but she ignored it to smile at her employer. “Not worried at all, Ms. Potts. Simply wondering if we should add James to the insurance plan if he's going to spend time with Mr. Stark in the lab or even traveling with us.”

“Of course, that's an excellent idea, see that it gets done.”

“Yes, Ms. Potts. Will there be anything else?”

“Have you booked our flights to Monaco?” Pepper poured herself a second drink and picked up her phone to scroll through the dozens of congratulatory emails still rolling in from various shareholders and board members. “Add a seat for James, I think he will most likely be going along with Tony anywhere at this point.”

“Do you think...” Natalie hesitated. “Are they involved?”

“Would that offend you in any way, Natalie?” Pepper arched a graceful eyebrow towards her new assistant. “Because if so, you are welcome to tell me why and then to pack your things and leave immediately because I won't tolerate--”

“Ms. Potts.” Natalie held her hand up and shook her head. “I was simply wondering for reasons of hotel rooms. I am the last person to have any sort of issue with whether or not Mr. Stark prefers his dates as blessed as I am--” a pat at her chest and Pepper snorted a laugh. “--or as blessed as James is.”

Pepper laughed even harder, “Well then, by all means book us four rooms. Two adjoining for you and I, two adjoining for Tony and James. I'm not sure if they will share or not and to be honest, I'd rather not know. I like to think as CEO my days of knowing the status of Tony's bed partners are behind me.”

“Of course, Ms. Potts.” Natalie smiled. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“'You too Natalie, thank you.”

Pepper went back to sipping at her drink and idly reading emails and when the exhaustion of the day finally caught up to her, she turned in for the night. Her calendar was so full these days and she was so tired and oh Lord, the sun would be up in just a few hours and she’d have to start another day all over again...

... ...

...On the other side of the world the sun was coming up, brilliant and beautiful over the skyline of Monaco and at the international airport, it was time for a shift change as the night workers called their goodbyes and switched spots with the early morning crew.

The young man at the counter had only barely clocked in when the doors opened and a line of international passengers flooded the terminals. Checking passports was easy enough so long as the passengers had their papers in order, and he went through two dozen entries before any one passport caught his eye and tripped the computer's marker.

“Oh, this should just take a second to double check, sorry about that Mr.--” he paused when he saw the myriad of tattoos on the man, the bedraggled black and white hair, gold teeth glinting back at him. “Uh, is it Vanko? What um-- what brings you to Monaco?”

“I'm working at the Grand Prix.” came the gravelly answer, a smile that was somehow savage stretching the man's lips. “Hoping to catch up with an old friend.”

“Oh.” the computer okay'ed the passport, so the attendant handed it back quickly. “Well um-- welcome to Monaco. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

“I plan to.”

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

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

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

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#ncts fics #winteriron #tony stark #bucky barnes #pepper potts #natasha romanov

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xoxoperse · 4 years

Text

| deathly. / kabal x reader

“this is not your fault.”

word count: 2,016

trigger warnings: swearing, fighting, blood/injuries, and mentions of death.

you rushed inside your home, rushing to your shared room with kabal. you drop to your knees and reaching under your bed, reaching for a safe. you knew this day would come sometime, so you were prepared for it.

“what the hell? y/n?” kabal asked, coming to your room, confused. he walked to your side of the bed, seeing you on your knees.

“someone’s after me, kabal.” you spoke quickly. “someone for daegon.” you rushed. you stood up, frantically putting a shell over the blade of your knife, then putting it on your waist band.

kabal gently raised your head up, looking at the little gash on your cheek. “did someone do that to you?” he asked, anger in hsis voice. “i’ll kill them.” he hissed.

you nodded, frowning. “i can’t let you do that.” you said sadly. “the last thing i want is for you to be hunted and killed,” you spoke. a tear slipped down your face, resulting in kabal wiping it away.

“let me come with you; i can protect you,” kabal spoke, going to move some hair out of your face. “i’m not going to let you go alone.”

“but you have to, babe.” you sighed. “you’re not coming with me; i can’t let you... i don’t want you to get killed.” you said softly, another tear falling.

“none of us is getting killed tonight, y/n” kabal said, wiping away your tear again. suddenly, you wrap your arms around his waist, and resting your head on his chest. he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, running his fingers through your hair.

“i love you, kabal.” you muttered, more tears streaming down your face and soaking his shirt.

“i love you, too, y/n.” he whispered back, holding you close. you two never wanted to pull away from each other, wanting to savour every final moment with one another.

but, unfortunately, you pulled away from him, wiping away your tears. you saw a little tiny one slip down his face. you had never seen kabal cry, let alone for you. you reach up, wiping it away. “don’t cry, my love.” you said to him softly. “i’ll be okay.”

he nodded at your words, taking a deep breath. “where are you going to go?” he asked, looking deeply into your beautiful eyes.

“maybe a few towns over. i’ll be on foot until at least the next town, then i find a way to get a car, or some type of transportation.” you answered, sniffling a little bit.

he sighed, nodding sadly. “alright..” he muttered to you. his heart was racing; he was nervous for you. what if you didn’t survive?

“are you sure you don’t want me to come?” he asked. he wasn’t the one to not tag along with somebody on a dangerous trip like this, but he will definitely find a way to help the love of his life. you nod in response to him, trying to keep anymore tears from falling down your cheeks.

“i need to go,” you sighed. you and kabal made you way out of the room and went to the front entrance of your home. you hesitantly reach for the knob, turning it and opening the door.

before you could take your final step out the door, you feel some grab your arm and bring you back inside. “kabal-” you started, but was interrupted with a kiss being pressed to your lips. your back ended up being pushed against the wall next to the door as you two shared a final kiss. kabal had his hands tangled up in your hair as you two kissed, and you had your arms around his torso.

the kiss felt like it lasted forever, but in reality, it only lasted for a little less than a minute. he pulls away from you, as your eyes meet. he kissed your forehead quickly, giving you a small reassuring smile. “think you could leave without a goodbye kiss?”

you chuckle, smiling as you came off the wall. you leaned up and kissed his cheek, before walking out the door.

-~-

it had been about an hour of walking and paranoia. you were contantly looking over your shoulder and all around you. you knew the bastard would be around here somewhere. you were waiting for someone to come up and stab you from behind, or even drug and kidnap you to a potentially worse fate.

just when you had thought that maybe you had lost the man that was chasing you, you hear someone call your name repeatedly.

“y/n...” the voice cooed. “come out, come out wherever you are,” he spoke. you frantically looked around you, not seeing anyone around you. you reach for your knife, pulling it out and looking around you again.

“come on out, bitch!” you yelled, waiting to see the man appear. soon enough, he came out with a devious smirk playing on his lips. he approached you, holding a knife with a trailing point blade attached.

“i’ve looked everyone for you, dear,” he cooed in a villainous tone. “daegon wants your head, ya know,” he teased. “and i’ll be damned if i don’t leave here without it.”

“i’d like to see you try.” you hissed, eyeing the mysterious man. “who the hell aare you anyway?”

“does it matter, sweetheart?” he asked. you couldn’t be sure, but you just thought that the man was just a hired hitman for daegon. but who knows; maybe he’s a red dragon himself.

the man circled around you, and looked you up and down as he did so. “you’re a pretty little thing, y/n.” he spoke, twirling his knife with his fingers. “i almost feel bad i have to cut you to pieces. almost, though.” he chuckled.

spontaneously, you go to stab your knife into his chest, but he quickly grabs your wrist, stopping you. “gotta try harder than that, sweetheart.” he teased, raising his eyebrow a little bit. he pulled you closer by your wrist, stabbing you in your abdomen, damn near hitting one of your organs. you wince and yell, accidentally dropping you knife as you almost fell.

“fuck you.” you muttered as he pulled the knife out of your stomach, which made you gran more. he lifted your chin up, the bloody blade gently laying on your sholder. he tilted his head to the side a bit.

he looked like he was astonished that anybody dared speak to him like that. you stayed silent, which made him raise the knife to your neck. “say it again.” he hissed, spontaneously stabbing the knife into your gut again. you yelled, tears streaming down your fave as you did so.

“i said: fuck. you.” you groaned before reaching up with your hand up to his face, pressing in his eyeball and elbowing him straight in the nose. you pulled the knife out of you, groaning and whining again.

he yelled as he stumbled back, holding his face. he nearly tripped over as he did so. you bend down, groaning as you picked up your knife then sitting up, painfully. you glanced at him before trying to get away as quickly as possible. before you know it, someone grabbed you and raced you away. you shrieked a bit as this happened, then coming to an abrupt stop. you mouth was covered, but you knew exactly who it was.

kabal.

he slid down the tree with you, holding you close to him as he removed his hand from your mouth. you wince and whined, trying to be quiet.

“damn it..” you muttered, tears slipping down your face, still. kabal held you close to him, blood getting on his hands. he gently lifted up a little bit, helping you sit in a different dirsction so he can look at your wounds.

god, it was bad.

you were bleeding everywhere, and losing nlood way too fast. if you didn’t get help in a a few, dire minutes, you would be gone... for good.

“i knew i should have came with you,” kabal cried quietly. “this wouldn’t have happened if i just went with you in the first place..” he whispered. he desperately looked around for something to potentially help, but to no avail, he didn’t find anything.

“don’t say that, kabal.” you painfully whispered. “if i didn’t take that deal, this would have never happened.” you murmured. “this is not your fault.” kabal shook his head, more tears slipping down his face.

he should have known this would happen to you if you went alone. he was an idiot for listening to you to not come with you.

“where did you go, y/n?” the voice cooed. you flinched at his words, and kabal put his finger to his lips. he moved you back so you could lay against the tree trunk while he got up. you weakly reached for his hand, shaking your head. he nodded your way, gently rubbing your knuckles for a quick second before he walked off.

you were in and out of consciousness, but you still heard the fighting going on. you couldn’t tell who was winning, but you hope to any and every god that it was kabal.

you began accepting your fate; you knew that it would be too late to save you. you felt a bit woozy as you laid against the trunknof the tree, like your head was spinning in circles.

after what felt like hours of being in and out of light sleeping, kabal finally came back to you. he was bloody, but at least he was in one piece. “y/n?” he called softly. “y/n, babe. wake up,”

you hummed in response, barely opening up your eyes to look at him. “are... are you okay?” you asked softly, trying to keep your eyes open.

“i’m fine; i’m more worried about you.” he said softly. “i’m not gonna let you die on me, y/n.” he spoke, sadness in his voice. “like fucking hell i’ll let it happen.” he swore.

you weakly reach your hand up, cupping his cheek gently. “kabal..” you trail off, feeling like you were falling asleep again.

“don’t say it, y/n.” kabal demanded, tears streaming down his face. “don’t eben think about it.”

“kabal... listen to me,” you spoke, opening up your eyes again. “i love you, babe. but.. there’s no saving me... i’ve lost too much blood.”

“stop it!” he cried, shaking his head. he pressed his forehead to yours gently, placing a soft kiss on your lips. “i love you, y/n..” he whispered.

“i love you, too..” you replied, before going passing out again.

-~-

kabal could never, nor would never, forgive himself for letting you run away on your own. if he had just went with you, all this probably wouldn’t have been as bad as it was. if he could go back in time and change everything, he would. he would come with you this time; you two would skip town, and go start a new, happy, and exciting life. he would give you everything you ever wanted in this new life, if he could.

he never thought he could love sombody so much as he loves you. hell, he never thought that he would ever have someone love him so much as you do, but holy shit was he wrong in so many ways.

so, once you were in the clear to leave the hospital, you guys left the state. no more black dragon, no more fighting, no nothing. just you and kabal. you two had always had conversations about having a little family when you weren’t in any dangerous sitautions anymore, and when you were stable enough to support them and give them anything they wanted.

life had been turned around completely, and the couple wouldn’t change it for anything or anyone. you had recovered fully, and now happy and healthy. and when the time arose a few years after getting settled, you and kabal had your first little bundle of joy; a beautiful baby boy. you plan to have more in the future.

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redhawtriot · 4 years

Note

Could I possibly have a scenario with a fem s/o who is constantly high but yet Bakugou can’t help but fall in love :) thanks in advance!

Anonymous- “Can I pls get first date with bakugo and reader goes to pay for her half and bakugo shits her down with some tsundere ass response like “I just know if you pay for this you’re gonna complain you dont have money to buy other shit.”

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I mashed these two request together!

Enjoy the fluff while it last cuz it’s finna get ANGSTY in this bitch!

HnM💕

How Stop liking a Stoner (Bakugou x Reader)

Bakugou absolutely hated you. Of course he didn’t get along with most people that he met, but the way that he despised you felt different from others somehow.

It all began the day that the two of you met. You had walked into class with a very distinct odor. You considered yourself to be a professional at hiding your more delinquent lifestyle; however, masked away under the layers of fruity and sweet perfumes that you had coated yourself in, was a slight, but very recognizable, dank and smokey smell.

You also had certain mannerisms that could alert even the purest of minds to your…ahem… extra-curricular actives.

Now, you weren’t a complete noob. You could handle the high well enough that you weren’t overly quiet, or loud, but you did often find yourself in situations that could expose your habits: such as when Mina asked you to feel how soft a furry piece of her hero costume was, and you ended up petting it for a few uncomfortable minutes before someone called you out, snapping you out of your trance.

Bakugou, being the ever perceptive grump that he was, noticed any of these sorts of slip ups and drew up the conclusion that you were indeed a stoner.

But that wasn’t even what he could bring himself to hate about you. No, it was the way that you made him feel whenever you were around that made him wholy despise you.

When you stupidly giggled at every slight occurrence, he could only replay the sound in his head over and over. Disgusting. When you absentmindedly swayed your body in a slight dance during lectures he couldn’t help but to watch you with a terrifyingly light feeling in his chest. Fucking gross. Even as you sat chomping on the insane mountain of snacks that you brought to class, he couldn’t fight the urge to steal glances at the little smile that was perpetually plastered onto your face. Absolutely adorable. WAIT? WHAT THE FUCK?!

God, he couldn’t stand your ass.

The furious blond found himself sitting at his desk, glaring at his laptop. He sat in thought for a moment before violently popping his knuckles and leaning into the search engine in front of him, allowing his fingers get to work.

Is marijuana bad for you?

Bakugou scrolled along the first page and found many differing views on the subject, but most scientific articles and studies mostly said the same things: “maybe”, “it depends”, and “we don’t know.” He groaned in frustration, before trying another phrasing of his question,

Can smoking have long term effects?

The teen was surprised by the overwhelming amount data that appeared, before realizing that they were mostly referencing to cigarettes and cigars. He growled and angrily smashed his fingers against his keyboard to correct his question.

Can smoking weed have long term effects?

As he eyeballed his screen he was once again disappointed by very vague and unclear answers. He slammed a fist onto his laptop in frustration. How the hell could you put that shit into your body without knowing what it would do to you later?!

Wait. A better, more pressing question shoved itself into his mind.

WHY THE HELL DID HE CARE SO DAMN MUCH ABOUT WHAT YOU WERE DOING?!

Bakugou groaned in frustration and roughly snatched a fist full of his hair, as if he were trying to rip you clean out of his mind. He knew for a fact that mind-altering wasn’t your damn quirk. So why the hell does he give a fuck about you? You weren’t even around him, yet he found himself having his thoughts wander to your well being. It pissed him off.

Bakugou once more smacked his fingers against his keyboard as he typed one final question,

How to stop liking someone?

As soon as he saw the words flash across his screen, it was like the weight of the entire situation finally cracked something inside of him. Shit. He did like you. The boy suddenly slammed his laptop shut and threw it away from him like it had suddenly disgusted him.

He then decided that he was going to pretend like the last hour of his life just didn’t happen. Yeah he was gonna “control, alt, delete” the fuck out of every thought he just had.

God dammit, he didn’t have time to dwell on crushes if he was going to be the number one hero! That stupid, delinquent girl wasn’t going to get any more of his time or thoughts!!

But.

It seemed like fate had something else planned as you hurriedly walked to your classroom, 1-A, the next morning. You absolutely couldn’t risk being late today. You hadn’t had enough time to grab your eye drops that morning and Aizawa would certainly notice your altered state if attention was drawn to you.

The hallway ahead of you moved in choppy frames before you finally whipped a turn to enter the door of your classroom. As soon as you turned into the class, you were slapped with a warm sturdy object, sending you flying back onto your butt.

Bakugou immediately thrashed his body around to confront whatever idiot just knocked into him, “HEY WATCH WHERE YOU’RE…” he trailed off as he recognized your figure. Your lunch box that you had been holding had spilled its contents all over you, but the dirty sight of you was somehow still enough to make his heart throb, “…going.” he finally finished.

“Sorry, Bakugou,” you apologized as you rubbed the side your your head, trying to stabilize your whirling mind, “Oh, man! My food!” you sadly exclaimed as you recognized the pathetic mess of snacks and small meals you had prepped for your day all over the floor and yourself.

The sight of your frown in contrast to your usual happiness gave Bakugou’s chest a twinge of pain. He growled at the emotion as he glared at you on the ground, “Well, maybe you should get your head out of the damn clouds and watch where you are going!” he yelled before stiffly turning on his heel and heading to his seat.

You blinked in surprise at his retreating figure. Well, you hadn’t exactly expected him to apologize or help you or anything, but you also didn’t expect to see the blush that creeped across his face before he stormed off.

Huh.

You cleaned yourself up easily enough. Honestly, the situation and Bakugou’s subsequent outburst had helped you make it through the day without getting suspended, drug tested or expelled. By the time you cleaned yourself up and made it back to the classroom, your eyes had pretty much returned to their normal state.

Today might not be so bad after all!

GrrrrRRRrrRRrrr, your stomach screeched, causing almost all of your classmates to whip their heads toward you in surprise.

Shit…

You hurriedly grabbed your stomach with a nervous laugh, trying to console the despairing little monster; however, you still spent the rest of the school day with your tummy loudly yelling at you. Watching everyone eat during lunch was absolute torture as your stomach cursed at you for being so damn clumsy. You honestly could have died.

Death by munchies.

However, it seems as if the cannabis lords took pity on you that day and you actually made it through your last class. You were the first one out of their desk as you rushed out of the classroom and down the hall— the thought of food on your mind, but suddenly you felt a heavy hand snatch your wrist,

“Hey, idiot!” When you looked back your eyebrows shot straight up at the sight of Bakugou’s hardened expression, “Let’s go grab some food.”

Um… hWhat? The suggestion completely threw you off balance. You shook your head as if the vibrations that just came in through your ear needed some readjusting, “Like… together?” you tilted your head in shock. You’ve never seen Bakugou willingly hang with anyone else besides Kirishima, let alone initiate an event with them!

Bakugou fumed at your questioning appearance, “Are you really that stupid!? I could hear your stomach growling from across the classroom!!”

You giggled at yourself in embarrassment, not quite sure of what else you could do in the moment, “…Why do you care?” you laughed.

Your laughed sent a searing wave of heat to his face. You’d… never directed this display of happiness toward him before, and for some reason it made him feel extremely hot,

“I don’t!” he yelled as he tried to fight the warmth away, “I just knocked your food down earlier and… I don’t want to owe you anything,” he suddenly noticed that he was still clinging to your hand. The heat in his face doubled as he snatched his hand away from yours, “So where do you wanna go? I am not taking no for an answer,” he began as he walked away from U.A.’s campus with a rigid nod for you to follow him.

You paused for a moment. Is this real?

A large smile began spreading itself across your face– the cannabis lords once gain raining mercy down upon you, “Maybe a… Mcdonalds!” you happily suggested as you skipped into a light jog ran to catch up with him.

“Mc.. donalds?” Bakugou threw you an expression that resided in an area between horrified and disgusted for a moment before correcting himself back into his comfortable anger, looking at the ground as the two of you walked.

“Yeah, like the clown place!” you added. Bakugou growled at your answer. He wasn’t a fucking idiot he knew what a damn McDonald’s was. You laughed at his response as you continued, “You’re not scared of clowns are you, tough guy?” you teased.

“Fuck you,” he simply huffed, refusing to even entertain your accusations.

“Wow, on the first date?” you boldly retorted with a stifled laugh, causing him to falter in his steps for a moment. He snapped himself out of whatever stupid emotion he felt at your words,

“IT’S NOT A DAMN DATE!” he roared, causing you to simply shrug, a pleased smile on your face as you continued to walk without him.

“Where are you going, you idiot?! There is a Mcdonald’s right there!” he angrily gestured to the golden arches the other direction of where you were headed.

“I like the one by my house better,” you explained, “It had a gas station attached to it, so I can grab some snacks on the way out.”

….

G-gas Station McDonald’s….? Bakugou could have thrown up right then and there.

“DISGUSTING!” the blond screeched, “I am not walking all the way over there just to walk back to the dorm! Are you an idiot?!”

Alright. Who the fuck did this to him? Made him crush on a complete loser?! Cupid? God?! He was gonna fight whoever the fuck it was!

“Fineeee,” you laughed and the two of you walked over to the inferior McDonalds. Bakugous eyes widened in repulsion as you ordered both a Big-Mac meal and a twenty piece chicken nugget with a dozen cookies.

As soon as you happily reached out to give the cashier your money, he swatted your hand away and shoved his own cash at the associates face, “No, take mine.” he harshly ordered. The employee shakily agreed and accepted his money.

You threw him a confused glance but before you could even open your mouth to question him, he spoke up, “I just know that if you pay for this, you’re gonna complain that you don’t have money to buy other shit,” he explained, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.

You noticed this red tint, but decided to tease him instead of pointing it out, “Yeah, like gas,” you nodded with a sly smile.

“Gas? You’re fifteen and don’t have a damn car, you idiot,” He argued, but the boy immediately paused as soon as he saw the suggestive expression that you held on your face. Things finally clicked as soon as you wiggled your eyebrows towards him. Gas… you meant weed. He angrily snatched the two soda cups that the cashier was extending out as he loudly yelled at you, “FUCK! YOU MAKE IT SO DAMN HARD TO BE NICE TO YOU, YOU KNOW THAT?!” He screamed as you cracked up at his uncharacteristically slow uptake.

The two of you had decided to eat at a booth near a window. You found yourself being really surprised at the quality of this McDonald’s chairs. Bakugou loudly chastised you for gawking at the chairs like some freak before the two of you promptly began eating your food.

It was mostly quiet between the two of you as the textures of the meal performed on your sensitive tongue until Bakugou finally spoke up, “Why do you put that nasty shit into your body?”

“Uh,” Your eyes danced away for a split second, “McDonalds?” your faced crinkled in confusion.

“No, you dumbass!” Bakugou fought the urge to facepalm, “marijuana!” he angrily corrected.

Oh… you felt yourself deflate for a moment, as the question absorbed into your mind. You suddenly let out a giggle, “I don’t know. It makes me feel good, I guess.” Bakugou had to fight another blush at the sight of you adorably shrugging your shoulders.

“That’s a stupid answer. You can’t feel good on your own?”

You tilted your head as you thought about it for a moment. Of course, you could feel good on your own. Just take a look at you! You weren’t even very high anymore, yet you were still on cloud nine right now for some reason, “Well… I feel good right now with you.”

That did it. His adrenaline flared up in an instant. Bakugou couldn’t even come up with fluid words as a series of death threats and curses instinctively flooded to the forefront of his mind, “S-shut up.”

You giggled at his loss for words before letting the conversation die again. The two of you once again found yourselves in silence as you sat with a smile on your face.

This time, it was you who broke the silence, “Thank you, for hanging out with me today. I really appreciate it.”

“Whatever, loser. Don’t get used to it,” he huffed, angrily stuffing a few fries into his mouth.

“So…. there’s not a second date ahead?”

“I didn’t say that,” he grumbled, snatching his glare away from you and out of the restaurant window.

So it was a date. A huge smile once again spread across your face for the millionth time that evening. You happily plopped another fry into your mouth at the sight of him blushing once more.

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou imagine #bnha imagine #bnha imagines #mha imagine #mha imagines #bnha x reader #mha x reader #420 #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #mha #bnha

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just-my-sickly-pride · 4 years

Text

Come On So Heavy || Joe Mazzello x fem!Reader

summary || you like your friend joe. you really like your friend joe. but you don’t know if he likes you back. maybe all it takes to find out the truth is a little (a lot) of liquid courage.

rating || explicit (18+ only). do not read if you are under eighteen. semi-public sex, unprotected sex, sex while under the influence of alcohol

word count || 3.8k

author’s notes || i stumbled across this half-finished fic while looking for something else, and decided to finish it off and post it! hope everyone is doing all right with social isolation. the title is from ‘get down, make love’, bc of course it is. this fic is... she’s a real messy one. i usually don’t write or post unprotected sex, but both people in this fic are very drunk. enjoy their shenanigans, but please don’t use this as guidance as to what safe sex is lmao. also this gif just too good not to use for a drunk joe fic sdfjsdflkdfsa

masterlist

You raise your hand, and rap your knuckles on the door. You can hear the sounds of a pregame coming from inside, and, in a few seconds, the door in wrenched open.

It’s Joe, unexpectedly - this isn’t his house - and your heart leaps so dramatically in your ribcage that it feels like it almost jumps out of your body entirely. “[Y/N]!” he crows, throwing his hands into the air, and you immediately know that he’s already had quite a bit to drink.

“Hey, Joe,” you say with a grin.

“Come in, c’mon.” He takes you by the wrist and tows you inside, and you have to kick the door closed behind you, because he just keeps on dragging you until you’re in the living room. “Look who it is, everybody!”

You wave hello to your group of friends, and everyone greets you enthusiastically. The room is scattered with empty bottles and cans, and there’s a half-finished bowl of chips on the coffee table.

“Can I get you a drink?” Joe asks, and he’s standing closer than he normally would, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol, and you suddenly forget how to speak.

“Um– uh, y– yeah– no, actually, I brought my own. But thank you.”

“Okay,” Joe says with a chuckle. He shoves a hand into his pocket, cradling his beer close to his chest. “You look, um– I like your…” He gestures vaguely to you with his beer.

You giggle, and you kind of hate yourself for giggling. “My…?”

“Your, like, everything,” Joe says with a grin.

Oh, God, the butterflies. The butterflies in your stomach. They’re unbearable.

“Thank you,” you say. Play it cool, play it off as a joke, don’t make it weird. “I also like your, like, everything.”

“Oh, well, thank you very much,” Joe says, holding out his arms a little, like he’s presenting himself. He’s wearing nothing too unusual, just jeans and a nice collared shirt, but he could be wearing nothing but moth-eaten rags and you’d still be stupidly attracted to him.

The way he looks at you makes you think that maybe he feels the same way about you. But you’re never quite sure. You’ve been crushing on him for over a year now, but you’re too scared to initiate anything. He broke up with his last girlfriend, Trish, almost a year ago, but it was pretty messy, and you don’t want to make him feel pressured. He hasn’t really tried dating anyone since then, so you’re fairly sure that’s an indicator that he’s still recovering.

Which is fine. You’re fine with that. You’re fine to just be hopelessly in love from afar.

The problem is you’re not very good at hiding it. Maybe Joe likes the attention, maybe he likes you back, you don’t know. You don’t like to think about it too much if you can help it – it’s too confusing.

Whatever. You’re just happy to be around him.

By the time you’re all heading to the club, not a single person is sober. Barely anyone is just tipsy anymore – you’re all drunk. Not blackout by any means, but the security at the door gives you all the hair eyeball before reluctantly letting you into the club.

You can’t remember the last time you went out clubbing. As soon as you walk in, you suddenly remember why. The ear-splitting music, the crush of people, the sticky floors, the stupidly long lines to the bar. Not to mention the price of drinks.

But then Joe’s hand is on the small of your back, and he’s leaning in to yell into your ear, “Want a drink?” and suddenly maybe the club isn’t so bad anymore.

Joe buys you a shot, and you knock it back in one. He raises his eyebrows, impressed, and you give him a scathing look that you hope conveys, That really isn’t something to be impressed with. He has a shot himself, and pours it down his throat, and only coughs and winces a little bit. He gives you an expectant look, and you make a face and shake your head. He pouts and gives you the finger, and you laugh.

You lean into him as you laugh. Luckily, you can blame it on the alcohol. You end up on the dancefloor. Joe likes to pretend that he can dance, but it’s not really the sort of dancing that suits a club, and he always takes himself a little too seriously when he does it. But you think it’s sweet that he puts in the effort.

Then he gets that look in his eye – that look that tells you he’s about to do or say something that he thinks will be hilarious – and he shimmies closer to you, and then turns around so his back is to you, and pretends to grind on you.

You scream and flail away, laughing and pushing him off you. “Joe!”

He grins delightedly, ever so pleased with himself, and you hide your face behind your hand. He takes your hand and tugs you a bit closer. “Not up to scratch?” he teases.

You shake your head. “Terrible.”

“What?”

“I said, you’re terrible.”

“What was that? You said you’d show me how to do it properly?”

You gape at him and take your hand back to smack him in the chest, and he laughs.

“You couldn’t handle it,” you say.

Joe’s eyebrows raise, and he says, “Think I could.”

Oh, no, now you’re getting turned on, and you know you should diffuse the situation, because it’s probably just the alcohol talking and Joe doesn’t really like you that way, he’s just flirting for the fun of it, and you don’t want him to do anything he’d regret, and now you’re taking this far too seriously when all he’s doing is just having some fun, stop overthinking everything and just relax for once.

“Oh, you couldn’t handle anything I do,” you say challengingly.

You’re almost nose-to-nose now, and your body feels hot, and your heart is racing like a stallion. You’ve stopped dancing now, but you don’t even feel the people moving around you, bumping into you.

Joe’s eyes drop to your lips, and half of you is screaming that you should stop this, and the other half is screaming at you to go for it, but then the decision is taken from your hands when someone spills half their drink on Joe, and he flinches away from you, spitting out a curse.

“Yuck,” Joe whines. You’re both in the outside section now, where all the smokers hang out, but at least it’s marginally easier to talk, and the cool night air is helping dry Joe’s shirt. The beer’s all down his side, and on his arm, too, although he’s already been to the bathroom to wash it off.

“What a jackass,” you say in sympathy.

“Yeah.” Joe grimaces, and shifts. “Gonna smell of cigarette smoke too.”

“Yup.” You sigh. “This is why I don’t go out anymore.”

“Mm.”

The tension from before is gone entirely, which, despite yourself, is really fucking frustrating. You’re still horny, and the alcohol is not helping, but you’d gotten yourself all worked up, and now there’s no outlet for it.

You rub your hands over your thighs. “Do you know where the others have ended up?”

Joe watches a group of people across the way laughing and talking. None of them can even stand up straight. “Nope,” he says.

“Just us, then.”

Joe looks to you, and there’s still something lingering in his gaze. “Could be worse.”

Your stomach flips. “Guess so.”

“Can I buy you another drink?” he says.

You snort in amusement. “You wanna go back in there?”

“I want some more alcohol. Gotta make some sacrifices.”

When you re-enter the inside area and the crowd is once again suffocating, he reaches behind him and takes your hand.

When you reach the bar, it takes him a while to let go.

You buy the drinks this time, despite his protests, and you find yourselves on the edge of the dancefloor, not quite in with the crowd, but still very much in the dancing zone.

The extra alcohol really starts to hit you a few minutes later, and you definitely feel unstable on your feet. It looks like Joe’s in a similar boat, and you’re both dancing, but it’s more just shuffling around, bopping to the beat, trying not to trip over your own feet.

It doesn’t take long for you to find the nearest wall to lean against, pretending it’s all part of your plan to try to do something sexy, some hot sliding down the wall or something, but really you’re just tired of standing properly. Joe’s still swaying in front of you, and you don’t think he’s really on beat anymore but it’s hard to tell.

He tries to do some silly dancing against you again, but a blind man could see that it’s just an excuse to get near you again and make you laugh, and he’s only really half-committing to the joke. You laugh anyway and push at him lightly.

“You don’t like it?” he says.

“Hate it.”

“Oh, man,” Joe complains. “I can’t win. What do you like?”

“I like–” But, somehow, you manage to swallow the end of the sentence.

“What?” Joe says, and he moves in close to you, and you know he could hear you just fine before, but it thrills you to know that he’s wanting to stand this close to you.

Unthinkingly, you slip a finger into the waistband of his jeans, tugging him even closer. “I like a man who takes charge,” you say into his ear, although you’re not quite sure why you say it.

Joe pulls back, searching your face with somewhat glassy eyes. “Yeah?”

You nod, biting your lip. The world swoops and swims around you.

Joe licks his lips. “Bit stereotypical,” he says, and it’s a joke, but he seems too distracted – or too drunk – to put in the proper effort to play it up for laughs.

You shrug a shoulder. “Just how it is.”

Joe props his hand against the wall beside your head, and, his eyes watching your face, his other hand brushes over your side. Your breath catches, and, seeing your reaction, his hand comes to rest more firmly on your waist.

You know that alcohol is a depressant, it’s meant to dull your senses, so why Joe’s hand feels more real and warm and firm that anything else you’ve ever felt in your life, you don’t know.

“I’m…” But, luckily, you swallow that sentence too.

Joe’s other hand moves from the wall to your other side, and you instinctively pull him closer. He’s pressing you against the wall, and you can barely remember how to breathe. You’ve never felt more turned on in your life.

“What?” he says.

Your hands rest against his chest. “I’m– I–”

Then he kisses you.

It’s not gentle, either. It’s rough, and hot, and messy and desperate, all right off the bat. You whimper against his mouth, wrapping your hands around his neck, and his hands tighten on your waist.

Now you’re those people. Those people who make out in a club, far too passionately to be appropriate where a whole room full of strangers can see, but, Jesus Christ, you don’t care.

Joe’s a good kisser, even as drunk as he is, and when he pulls away to kiss your neck, you think you might die.

“Joe,” you say breathlessly. “Joe, I–”

He hums against your skin, and raises his head. His lips are kiss-swollen, his hair a disaster from your fingers.

In that moment, the only thing you can think to say is, “I’m really– I’m so– I’m really fucking... turned on. Right now.”

Joe laughs, and kisses you once, then pulls away. “Don’t ask me why, but you’re really cute when you’re desperately horny,” he says.

You smile sheepishly.

Joe kisses you again, and one of his hands brushes along your ribs, just under your breast, and you whine shakily, needy, pressing into him. He moans, and you can’t hear it over the music, but you can feel the vibrations, and he reluctantly pulls away again to say into your ear, “C’mon.”

You burst into the disabled bathroom, stumbling, and Joe grabs your arm to steady you. You fall into him, giggling, and he wraps his arms around you, trying in vain to shush you, but he’s laughing himself. Twisting in his arms, you throw hook your elbows over his shoulders and pull him in for a kiss, and the two of you stagger blindly to the nearest wall, teeth colliding, noses bumping.

The breath is punched out of you when you hit the wall, but you barely even notice, clawing at the back of Joe’s shirt, rucking it up, getting your hands on his bare skin. He pushes your skirt up to your waist, and you moan breathlessly into his mouth.

“You gonna fuck me?” you ask him as he breaks away to press sloppy kisses to your throat.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice rough, and it sounds so hot that you have to close your eyes. But then the world spins, so you wrench them open again.

You paw at Joe’s jeans. “Off,” you demand, and Joe sways away from you, frowning down at his jeans, yanking at the button. You shimmy your underwear down to your ankles, and when Joe glances up at you, his eyes immediately latch onto your bare cunt. “Oh… my God,” he mumbles.

You absentmindedly, impatiently, start fingering yourself, just a bit, just wanting to feel good and get some relief. “Come on,” you urge Joe. “Want you in me.”

Joe finally manages the button, and only undoes the fly halfway, shoving his jeans and underwear down to his knees, and pressing himself to you, kissing you passionately. His hand replaces yours, and you fumble for his cock, pumping it, playing with it, getting it hard, and Joe’s panting shakily against your lips, his fingers clumsily circling your clit. His other hand tugs at the strap of your shirt, pulling it halfway down your arm, followed by your bra strap, and he yanks your bra down your chest a little, shoving his hand inside to knead your breast. You arch into him, moaning his name, and he responds with yours, bucking into your hand.

“Turn around,” he mumbles, and you do, shuffling, and he grabs your hip with one hand and pushes on your back with the other, bending you over, making you moan far too loudly, the sound echoing in the bathroom.

You feel the head of his cock sliding through your cunt, just teasing, and you push your hips back. “C’mon, do it,” you say.

“Tell me you want it,” Joe says. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“I want you to fuck me,” you say. “Please, come on, I’m so…”

“You want me to fuck your tight little pussy?”

“Yeah, I want it.”

“Fuck.” Joe moans. “You’re so wet.”

You whine. “Joe, please.”

Joe breathes out shakily, and then he pushes into you, and you both moan at the sensation.

You hold yourself up against the wall with your arms, and your legs are already trembling. You’re about to beg Joe to move, but then he does, pulling out and driving into you again, and you gasp, and then it’s all you can do to stay upright as he fucks you hard and fast. Moans and pleas and whines are tumbling from your mouth of their own accord, and your fingers grapple for something to hold onto on the wall, and every grunt and moan of Joe’s makes you weak.

Then he’s slowing down, and he draws away, pulling at your shoulder. “Wanna see your face,” he says breathlessly, and you let him manhandle you, turning you around again, and he presses you against the wall, kissing you deeply.

You try hiking one leg up over his hip, but it’s too hard to stay balanced, so you shake your head, and mumble against his lips, “Sink, sink.”

“Huh?”

“Fuck me over the sink.”

You both stagger over to the sink, and the reasonably sturdy-looking island it’s built into, and you hop up onto it, grappling with your underwear, pulling it off over your shoes. You tug Joe close to you, between your legs, hooking your ankles over the small of his back, and he wraps an arm firmly around your waist, sinking into you again.

You lean back against the wall to find a better angle, keeping one hand on Joe’s shoulder, and he leans forward, mouthing at the swell of your partially-exposed breast.

“Fuck, Joe,” you moan, and your eyes focus on where his cock is disappearing into you, and you find yourself fixated on the sight. It makes your whole body feel hot, like your blood is on fire.

Joe takes your arm, tugs you forward again so he can kiss you, and he pulls you closer by your hips. “Shit,” he gasps against your lips. “You feel so good.”

You press your forehead to his, occasionally nipping at each other’s lips, like you’re trying to kiss but you’re too focused on the movement of your bodies together to really try. He speeds up, his hips snapping against yours.

“You gonna come?” you pant.

“Yeah,” Joe grunts. “Shit.”

You wriggle a hand in between your bodies and start touching yourself, and your pulse spikes, and you whine.

“Fuck, I’m…” Joe’s arms shake, his rhythm stuttering. “Where– where d’you want it?”

“In me, want it in me,” you blurt out.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, just wanna feel it, fuck.”

Joe presses a searing kiss to your mouth, and you’re rubbing your clit furiously with one hand and clawing at the back of his shirt with the other, and then he breaks away to bury his face into your neck, moaning brokenly as he comes inside you, and you grip him to you, wanting to milk every so drop from him, feel it all inside you.

He pants against your skin, kissing your neck, and then he lifts his head to kiss your lips. “Shit,” he sighs, and his mouth is soft and pliant, his eyes warm on your face when he draws back to look at you.

You haven’t come yet. You don’t know whether to say anything about it or not. But you give Joe a smile anyway, and give him a brief kiss of your own.

He pulls out of you, and you make a small sound at the emptiness you feel. Joe kisses you again, and then his fingers find yours, and you moan as you realise he’s wanting to feel his come leak out of you, all over his fingers.

You twitch, breaking the kiss. “Joe, touch me,” you beg.

He does, his fingers clumsy in his drunkenness but confident and just the right amount of pressure, and he watches your face closely as he makes you tremble. He fucks you with his fingers, and the wet sound of it is obscene.

“So fucking hot,” he breathes. “You’re so perfect.”

“Joe, please,” you whine.

“Yeah, baby, I got you, just relax.”

You try to kiss him, but he pulls back. “No, I wanna watch you.” His mouth hangs open slightly, and you want to bite at his pouty bottom lip. “You look like a mess.”

“I do?” you say.

“Yeah,” Joe says. “Everyone’s gonna know that you’ve just been fucked in the bathroom. No way you can hide it.”

His thumb plays with your clit, and every so often his fingers slide completely out of you, dragging up to your clit, rubbing it, teasing it, and then he presses his fingers back into you. Your orgasm is building slowly, bit by bit, and you’re powerless to do anything but let Joe do as he pleases. All you can do is moan and squirm.

“Please,” you whine. “Please.”

“Shh, you gotta keep quieter than that,” Joe whispers.

You shake your head. “I– I can’t.”

“You gotta try.”

He massages your G-spot, and a gasping cry tears from your throat, your body shaking. “Fuck, please!”

Blissfully, Joe speeds up, and you’re so close. “Joe, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come.”

He speeds up even more, and you grip his forearm, sobbing, and then finally you tumble over the edge, your orgasm pulsing through you, and you cry out, your hips bucking.

Joe shushes you again, surging forward to kiss you, to swallow every noise you make, as he eases you through it.

Your orgasm seems to take forever to settle, but when it does, you sigh on a small whimper, and your kisses grow deeper, less frantic, more controlled. Joe draws his hand away and tucks himself back into his briefs, then sets his on your thigh. His fingers are wet, sticky, but you don’t care.

Finally, you and Joe break apart, and you meet eyes. You bite your lip, and glance away, almost embarrassed.

Joe kisses your cheekbone. “So hot,” he breathes. “I’m so obsessed with you.”

You laugh again, and bury your face in his neck.

“Go on a date with me,” Joe murmurs, and you lift your head.

“What?”

“Go on a date with me,” he says again. “I wanna take you out to dinner.”

Surely this is a dream. “Yeah,” you say with a grin, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Course.”

Joe presses a quick kiss to your lips, and then there’s banging on the bathroom door and someone yelling something incoherent.

You groan. “I don’t wanna go back out there.”

“Then come over,” Joe says.

You give him a look of suspicion. “What about that dinner first, hm?”

“I’ll buy you food on the way home,” Joe says with a cheeky smile. “Or I can make you breakfast in the morning.”

You sigh, and hum in approval, leaning in for another kiss. There’s another round of banging on the door, which interrupts you, and you frown at the door.

“C’mon,” Joe says, and helps you down from the counter. You both tidy yourselves up as best you can, and then Joe takes your hand, and you wobble out of the bathroom. Joe’s head is held high as he muscles past the line of irritated people, and you hide your face in his chest.

You both elbow your way through the club and out the door, and Joe calls you both a ride.

“You’re so obsessed with me?” you ask him.

He wraps his arm around your waist, and presses a kiss to your hair. “Mm-hm. Have been for months now. Glad you noticed.”

“I… I didn’t think you liked me in that way,” you say. “I wasn’t sure.”

Joe huffs a laugh. “Don’t know how I could’ve made it any more obvious,” he says.

“Well, you made it pretty obvious tonight.”

“And I’m about to make it really obvious a couple more times when we get back to mine.”

You scoff, and shove at him lightly. He laughs, and ducks his head to steal a kiss. You twist in his arms to kiss him back.

#my writing #joe mazzello x reader #bohemian rhapsody fanfiction #smut #rpf

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