Tumgik
#like he's more than old enough and tall enough to get his own glass of water
moonvis · 3 months
Text
IDIOTS IN LOVE
Steve Rogers x F! Reader
incl. Natasha, Wanda, Bucky and Tony
Summary: Being in love with Steve Rogers isn’t easy with all the dates Natasha sets him up with. One day you’ve had enough and ask her to set you up, something you’ve never let her before – and a certain blonde isn’t too pleased.
Warnings: Angst to fluff! Jealous! Steve and Jealous! Reader. Misunderstandings. Two blind idiots in love with each other. 4.3k words.
Tumblr media
“Okay, I’m off to bed,” You said through a yawn and got up from the chair you’d been sitting in for the past hours, drinking and chatting with Natasha and Wanda.
Natasha took a sip from her glass, before asking, “See you in the morning for our run?”
“Count me in,” You nodded and walked towards the exit, your head facing Natasha, “Goodnight ladies.” The second you faced away, something tall crashed into you, making you trip on your own feet.
“Woah careful, doll!” A familiar voice said, as a hand grabbed you by your waist to steady you, “Are you okay, angel?”
“Steve! Oh- Thanks!” You felt a bit embarrassed as he was still holding onto you, his blue eyes looking down at you with what seemed like concern. His face was close, so very close, and his lips-
“Steve you’re back!” Natasha cheered from behind you, interrupting the moment, “How was your date?”
You immediately felt your heart drop at her question. Steve had been on a date. Again. You took a step away from the super soldier, looking down as he shifted his attention to Natasha, “It was good.”
You snuck out of the room in the blink of an eye, not wanting to hear about yet another one of Steves ‘good’ dates that never lead to a second one. Couldn’t he just choose one of the girls and make it official? That way you had no reason to hold onto the hope that he just might, someday, reciprocate your feelings.
You didn’t see the disappointment in Steve’s face when you suddenly disappeared out of sight.
You woke up in the morning with a burning headache. Partly because of the wine last night, but mostly because of Steve keeping you awake for hours. You always stayed to hear how his dates went, but it was always the same: “It was good, but there won’t be a second one, I’m afraid. Better luck next time Nat.”
Though what if it was different this time? What if he finally found the one? Your thoughts and feeling of regret were interrupted by a harsh knocking on your bedroom door.You knew it was Natasha and got out of bed. The floor felt extra cold this morning.
“I’ll be down in five!” You yelled trough the door and went to get dressed for your run. After swallowing some painkillers for your headache, you left your room to meet the redhead, desperately in need to get some fresh air.
You and Natasha jogged from the Avengers compound and ended up in the nearest park. As you felt the morning sun warming your skin, you felt a little relief lift off your shoulders. You needed this.
The two of you sat down at a bench, kind of like creeps, observing the civilians enjoying their own morning.
A dolled-up lady was walking her dog, or more like, the dog was walking her. You shared a laugh with Natasha at the sight. Your eyes followed her movements, watching as she passed a little girl blowing soap-bubbles. The little one let her tongue out to taste the bubbles, only for her nose to scrunch up in disgust.
“Cute.” Natasha commented from beside you. You smiled and let your eyes wander along with the bubbles flying away, which popped right next to an older couple holding hands. “Aww, look at them!” You commented.
The husband of the old couple, smacked his lady’s butt, growing a mischievous grin on his face. “Now, that’s cute.” Natasha commented this time.
“I know! Old people are the cutest.”
“I can only partly agree with you there. Buck and Steve are quite the old men,” Natasha laughed, “Wouldn’t call them cute.”
You chuckled lightly as your eyes left the old couple. To you, Steve was so much more than cute. He was the kindest, most caring man you’d ever met. He always listened to your small and bigger problems. He was always willing to drop everything to help you out. He was always by your side whenever you got hurt on a mission. You had no doubt he cared for you, and yet… he still went on all those dates like you weren’t even an option. He made you feel so special and loved, and you weren’t even each other’s. Oh, how lucky the one who wins his heart would be.
“Y/N? Earth to--”
“Oh, sorry!” You snapped out of your thoughts at Natasha trying to get your attention.
She gave you a concerned look as she spoke, “Are you okay? You seem down.”
“It’s just my head, it really hurts.” You excused, wiping away a tear you hadn’t noticed before.
“I’m sorry. Should we walk back? We can take it slow.” Natasha asked and got up from the bench, lending you a hand.
You accepted her hand and cracked a small smile, “Thank you kind lady.”
Once you started walking back towards the compound, a familiar figure caught your eye. Steve, with a girl beside him, was walking in your direction.
“Would you look at that! Steve’s on a second date,” Natasha cheered at the sight of Steve and Sharon Carter coming closer, “He said yesterday they wouldn’t go on a date again.”
Natasha was clearly trying to share her excitement with you, but all you felt was a knot tightening in your stomach. You liked Sharon, you really did, but of course she, a Carter,  would be the one to finally win Steve’s heart.
Natasha was waving at the pair, just to make sure they saw the two of you. The jealousy in your body didn’t help much with the headache, making you feel sick, “Nat, I’m just gonna go, okay?”
You weren’t in the mood to stand around and wait for Steve to arrive with his new love interest, you didn’t even bother to give Natasha a smile, “You can wait for them if you want. I’d like to have some alone time anyways.”
Natasha wasn’t sure how to react, starting to feel like it wasn’t just a headache bothering you, “You sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” You left without taking another look back, leaving Natasha to start worry about you.
You didn’t see Steve’s expression go from excitement to concern as he watched you leave Natasha behind.
Back at the compound, you fall down onto your bed, soft sobs rocking your body. You’re tired of loving a man you’ll never have. You have his friendship, but your heart is still not satisfied. Now that Steve has found a beautiful woman like Sharon, maybe you can finally try to move on.
You roll onto your back, looking at the ceiling as your tears dry out. What are you going to do?
Then, it hits you. Natasha.
Just a soft knock on the door and a hug later, the redhead asks what she can do to make you feel better. You let out a sigh and ask away, “Could you help me, maybe… find a date?”
Natasha wasn’t sure she heard you correctly, but when you nodded, her face lit up in excitement, “Of course! It would be my absolute pleasure!” She didn’t even ask why you wanted a date all of a sudden, she was just happy you’d finally give her matchmaking a chance.  
“Oh my god! I have so many guys in mind. They would all be so lucky to have you Y/N. I have to pick one worth your time though!”
You chuckled as you listened to Natasha ramble on about who to pick for you, a feeling of excitement growing in your stomach. You were finally ready to give someone new a chance.
As the moon shone through your window, you thought about what tomorrow would bring. Natasha had already picked out a date whom you’d meet tomorrow night.
Busy in thought, you suddenly felt your stomach growl. Slipping out of bed, you put on a pair of slippers and wandered out your door towards the kitchen. Truth be told, you had been avoiding going around the compound in fear of meeting Steve, which also meant skipping dinner.
You fixed yourself a bowl of cereal and let your thoughts wander back to your upcoming date. What dress would you wear? Maybe the blue one? No. What about the white, the one you knew Steve loved so much?
“Hey.”
The sudden sound of a voice made you jump in your seat. As you choked on your cereal, you felt a hand patting your back.
“I’m sorry for scaring you. Are you okay, angel?”
You looked up to find Steve looking down at you. Damnit. You managed to embarrass  yourself in front of him again.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Your voice sounded hesitant, your eyes going back to your cereal. You listened as Steve made himself a cup of tea behind you, not a single word shared. You felt awkward.
You hoped he would just make his damn tea and leave - but of course not. The man sat down, right beside you, half facing you as he took a sip.
“So…” Steve began, and you felt yourself wanting to disappear. You were in the mindset of moving on a few minutes ago, but here he sat, the man you were so in love with, alone, giving you all of his attention. “How’re you doing? We haven’t talked much since, well, yesterday.”
Steve’s voice sounded hesitant, and you knew, that he knew, that something was up. The two of you hung out every single day, so not talking for 24 hours was unusual.
“I, uh… I’m okay. I’ve been a bit tired lately, that’s all.” You lied, and you didn’t sound very convincing either.
“Nat told me about your headache earlier today, at the park-”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” You interrupted him, a hint of annoyance in your voice. You really didn’t want to talk about it. Especially not think about the sight of Steve walking alongside his new girl.
You hear Steve let out a sigh at your answer. You were hoping he’d let it go, though you knew Steve too well. The blonde put down his cup and turned his body fully towards you this time, “Y/N,” His voice sounded serious, “I know something’s up, more than just a headache, and it worries me. So, please, what is going on? Did I do something?”
You didn’t know you had it in you to be angry with Steve Rogers, but when you felt your blood boil, there was no going back. You jumped out of your chair and looked at him with rage in your eyes, “Why do you care, huh?”
You saw the immediate hurt in Steve’s eyes, his expression shocked at your sudden outburst. You didn’t care though, “It’s been a fucking day, and you’re worried about me because I haven’t talked to you yet? You haven’t even been home! The last time I saw you, quoting Natasha, you were on a second date with Sharon! Shouldn’t you be with her now anyways?”
“Y/N-”  
“No! Why the fuck do you sit here and talk to me like I’m the only thing you care about, like it matters how I’m doing? It doesn’t make any sense! You’ve always been like this, yet I’m just a friend sitting around while you go out and fuck all the girls Natasha find for you!” Your breath is heavy, tears threaten to spill from your eyes,
Steve was reaching out a hand to you but retracted it as tears streamed down your cheeks. You pointed a finger at the man, your teeth gritted together as you spoke, “And lastly, I am under no obligation to tell you anything about my feelings! So please, stop treating me like I’m your fucking girlfriend!”
Without taking another look at him, you spun around and left the room. As you disappeared out of sight, you ran down the hallway to escape into your room, not wanting Steve to follow. It was when you shut your bedroom door, you realised what you just did.
You yelled at Steve, for the first time ever. Worst of all, he hadn’t done anything to deserve it. That night, never ending sobs were rocking you to sleep.
As you stormed out of the kitchen, you didn’t see the look of heartbreak in Steve’s eyes. They carried more worry than before, confusion and a load of regret as he started to catch on to what was going on with you. It was all a misunderstanding, and he felt like the biggest idiot in the world.
Getting ready for your date was supposed to be fun and exciting, but after you yelled at Steve last night, nothing seemed to cheer you up.
You regretted every single word you yelled at him. He came to check up on you, but all he got in return was your anger. Though maybe it was for the best, now he had no reason to care about you anymore. You were an asshole. The thought hurt like hell, but you chose to use it as an excuse to ease your feelings.
You dressed up in a white beautiful dress, paired with a pair of white heels. It was Steve’s favourite outfit of yours – he had told you so with words, but his eyes when he looked you, oh, they said so much more. That's were you got the nickname angel from.
It was time to give the outfit a new association, perhaps, the first outfit you wore out with your new potential love interest?
As you walked down the compound hallway to leave, familiar voices came from the kitchen. You knew snooping was wrong, but you couldn’t help listening as it was Steve talking.  
“I’ve been a fool Buck,” Steve sighed, “What am I gonna do?”
“It’s all a big misunderstanding, right? Just tell her everything and I’m sure she’ll understand. Y/N always understands.”
“Yeah, tell her I’ve been going on a new date every week for the past year so that I can forget about her?” Steve groaned, “It sounds awful.”
It did sound awful. He really wanted to get rid of you huh? You didn’t understand why but his words hurt. “-so that I can forget about her.”
You sniffled and was ready to sneak past them, not wanting to hear anymore, but of course, both men noticed your presence. Stupid super hearing.
“Y/N?” Steve asked and walked a little closer to where you were standing, “Wow, angel, you look-” Steve gave you the same look as he always did when you dressed up. He looked at you in awe, which you usually loved, but now, you hated it.
“Princess, you look beautiful!” Bucky commented and walked over to kiss the top of your head, “Where are you headed off to?”
“Oh, I-” You looked at Steve, then shifted your attention back to Bucky, giving him a shy smile, “I’m going on a date.”
The words felt relieving to get out in front of Steve. Now he would know not to treat you like a girlfriend, since you were trying to see someone else, right?
“Oh, really?” Bucky sounded surprised, but you ignored it, “Have uh-” You noticed as Bucky gave a quick look at Steve, before plastering on a big smile, “Have a nice one then! Can’t wait to hear about it!”
“Thanks Buck,” You smiled, “I gotta go.”  
As you rushed out of the room, you didn’t see Steve clenching his jaw and fists. He was irritated at himself for letting it come to this. The feeling of jealusy made him feel sick.
It was an hour into the date, and you were actually enjoying your time. The guy Natasha had set you up with was an agent you had met before during some mission, Christopher. He was cute and had such golden retriever energy - he made you genuinely smile for the first time that day. Apparently he had been smitten with you for a while now, and to no surprise, Natasha knew.
As time passed by, it was time to head home. Both of you had work in the morning anyways. Cristopher followed you all the way back to the Avengers Compound, giving you a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you for giving me a chance Y/N. I had a really wonderful time. Will I see you again?”
Busy with your date, you didn’t see Steve standing nearby, observing the whole thing. He was tense, saddened and growing more and more jealous as he watched you laugh with the other guy.
Steve had come out to get some fresh air, to clear his head, but was interrupted by your arrival. You looked so beautiful, and the sound of your sweet laughter made his knees weak. Oh, how he wished he was the one who caused it.
The morning after your date with Cristopher, you felt the best you had in the last few days. You hummed as you entered the kitchen, the smell of something delicious hitting your nose, “Oh, what’s that smell? It’s amazing.”
“’I made pancakes, so I hope you’re hungry!” Bucky cheered and handed you a plate. You accepted it gladly and sat down at the table next to Natasha and Wanda to your left, and Tony to your right.
“Hey girl, you seem happy. I’m guessing the date was a success?” Natasha asked as she took a bite of her breakfast.
“You finally went on a date with Steve? Rhodes owe me money-” Tony started at the information.
You almost chocked on your first bite of the pancake. Why would he even think that? Didn’t he know Steve was dating Sharon?
“No, Tones, wrong,” Natasha corrected him, “She went with that guy Cristopher. Remember that agent who wouldn’t shut up about her?”
“Oh yeah! The guy who was blabbering about Y/N almost as much as Steve does!”
Steve was blabbering on about you?    
“Anyways, tell us how it went? When’s the next date?” Wanda asked, eager to know.
You chuckled a little nervously, “Well, you see--” You stopped talking as soon as Steve entered the kitchen, shocked to see his fallen shoulders and saddened eyes.
You observed as he grabbed a plate of pankakes, before heading over to the counter to make his morning tea. It was weird not hearing a good morning, or getting greeted with his soft smile. You had no idea what was bothering him, and it killed you inside.
"Y/N? You were saying?" Natasha questioned, as you had left them all hanging.
Your eyes didn't leave Steve's figure, even though he was facing away, "It uh... The date was good."
You watched Steve's whole posture tense as you spoke. Oh, how much you wanted to ask if he was okay. You just didn't feel like you had the right to. The last time you spoke, you were yelling at his face.
"Come on! Give us the details!" Tony pushed.
You shook your head, suddenly not wanting to bother Steve with details of your date. You plasteted on a forced smirk, "You'll have to wait and see if we weet again."
"No come on!"
As Steve was facing away, you couldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. You couln't see the absolute heartbreak on his face from the thought of having lost you. He really felt like he had lost the most important person in his life - and you didn't even know he saw you as such.
Over the past few days, you hadn't shared a single word with Steve, and it was starting to drive you crazy. You didn’t even face each other while in the same room - it was a good thing you hadn't shared a mission yet.
All you wanted was for Steve to be happy, and to be his friend again, so with that, you decided it was time to apologize for your behaviour – even if he wouldn’t forgive you for being such an ass, you knew it was the right thing to do.
Your palms felt sweaty, and your mouth all dried out as you stepped outside his room, “Okay… here goes nothing.” You knocked on the door, feeling your heart thump rapidly against your chest.
When he didn’t answer you knocked twice, then again and again. Giving up, you asked Tony’s A.I. for help, “FRIDAY, where’s Steve?”
“In the gym ma’am.”
You let out a sigh, “Is he… okay?”
“From what I can tell, he seems distressed and angry.”
You felt a knot in your stomach. It was 8 pm, and Steve never worked out in the gym that late unless he was upset, “Fuck… Thanks FRIDAY.”
Earlier that day, Steve had been walking past the door to your room at least five times, with the intention to make up. Though the super solider was way too nervous to bother you and chickened out. It was killing him not having your company every day. He missed you. So, with his emotions changing from heartbreak to anger, and the heavy regret from not telling you the truth and let your relationship come to this, he escaped to the gym.
You entered the gym and carefully closed the door behind you. It took you seconds to see Steve by the six destroyed punching bags on the floor, the seventh about to face the same faith.
Steve’s back was tense, and you could see the anger he was feeling in every punch. You felt the knot in your stomach from before tightening, your palms even more sweaty. Taking a deep breath, you walked up to him; it was time to face the music.
Speaking of music, before you knew it your ears were singing a high-pitched tone, your head hurt and your whole back was facing the cold floor beneath you.
“Oh my god!” Steve rushed to your side, worry in his voice, “Are you okay? I’m so sorry Angel!”
You blinked a few times before looking up at the concerned man above you. Putting a hand to your head, you groaned out due to the pain. Releasing deep breath, you let Steve help you up, “I guess I deserved that.”
You had been so smart to come up behind the Captain and stand in front of the punching bag. Because of Steve’s quick and hard punches, he failed to notice you in time, and punced the bag into you, sending you flying to the floor.
“Seriously, are you okay, doll?”
The concern in Steve’s voice made you forget why you came her in the first place. You only nodded and let him lead you to sit down on a bench. He didn’t let go of your hand as you both sat down.
Steve let out a shaky breath. It was clear it had scared him when he saw you flying in the air, and it was all his fault too. You could see the guilt on his face. He still cared so damn much.
You had enough of Steve feeling so down because of you, he didn’t deserve a second of it, “Steve I’m okay. I’m the idiot for creeping up on you like that… Also, I kinda deserved it after how shitty I’ve been treating you.”
“What are you talking about?” There was confusion in the Captain’s eyes.
“Just… let me talk.” Suddenly you had the courage to just get it out. You took hold of both his hands and looked deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m so sorry Steve. I’ve been an absolute asshole towards you.”
Steve opened his mouth to say something, but closed it as you shook your head, “Let me continue. You’re my best friend and I have so much love for you. You’ve been nothing but good to me, and I was yelling at you for it. Thinking about how good you treat me, your friend, I can only imagine how good you treat Sharon. She’s very lucky and I wish you guys the best.”
Your gaze fell from Steve and down into your lap, “I… I’ve been jealous. With all those dates you’ve been on… Why couldn’t you just pick one the girls and get it over with? I…”
“Cause none of them were you.”
You looked up at him, shock in your eyes, unsure if you heard him correctly. Steve plastered on a small smile, his eyes so soft as he looked into yours, “Y/N, there’s nothing between Sharon and I. The other day, when you saw us at the park, we were walking back from visiting Peggy’s grave. It was only a coincidence we were there at the same time.”
“Oh… but what about your date the day before? You said it was good?” You asked, feeling almost ashamed.
“You left too soon to hear what I told Nat and Wanda. I had a good time, but I wasn’t interested. I’d have way more fun with someone else there with me…” Steve’s voice was low, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, “I can’t hold it back anymore Y/N. I love you; I always have. And those stupid dates?”
Tears were streaming down your cheeks at his confession. Never in a million years would you have thought he loved you back.
Steve chuckled lightly, a hint of sadness in his eyes, “I went on those to get you off my mind. I never belied you could love me back, you’re way too good for me, Angel. Though every damn date I went on, I just couldn’t get you off my mind. Every time they wanted me to come home with them, I only thought; No, I can’t do that to my best girl.”
“Steve…” You felt so stupid for not having confessed your feelings earlier. All this misunderstanding could’ve been avoided, “I love you too. I love you so damn much Stevie.”
Steve breath caught in his throat, not sure he was hearing you clearly, “What?” The word came out weak, like he was scared to wake up from a dream, “What about--”
“Cristopher?” You giggled, “Oh, I had a nice time with him, but you know, he wasn’t you.”
Steve laughed loudly and you joined in. Both of you realised how stupid and blind you had been. You loved each other.
Steve caressed your cheek again, his thumb stroking over your soft skin. The look in his eyes were different than before; you knew it was love. His features, his voice, all soft, “Can I… kiss you?”
You only nodded and let him lead you towards his lips. The kiss was gentle, but a firework erupted inside of you. It made tears fall from your eyes, his too. Pulling away, Steve kissed the top of your head before speaking, “My beautiful, Angel. I can’t believe I finally have you.”
You threw yourself forward and let him wrap his strong arms around you. His embrace felt like home.
It felt so right, and finally, your heart was satisfied.
You didn’t see the tears continue to stream down Steve’s cheeks. You didn’t see the huge weight being lifted off his shoulders. He was so damn in love with you, and he already knew that someday, he wanted to call you his wife.  
THE END! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is very much appreciated <3
2K notes · View notes
fanfics-and-love · 1 year
Text
We Get Along Like Snow in New York
Sam Carpenter x reader
Tumblr media
Not my gif
Warning(s): canon typical violence, mentions of death, mentions of blood, mostly fluff surprisingly
Word count: 4k words
Request: Sam and reader have gotten extremely close since moving to NYC and living in the same apartment, but when news of Ghostface attacks happening in New York. Sam pushes Reader away, thinking if she pushes her away, she'll be safe and alive. But, when reader is at Gale's apartment, (Dewey was her uncle) She's attacked by Ghostface instead of Gale, Sam and Tara show up to see reader bleeding out in Gale's arms. (She doesn't die) ask
A/N: I changed Dewey being Y/N’s uncle to father basically because it adds more drama to the story
masterlist
You had been living in New York with your mother ever since your parents’ divorce, having left behind the small town you had grown up in, and were ready to forget all about your father’s untimely death at the hands of a psychopath.
That was how you met Tara Carpenter, or more accurately, how you reunited with her.
Before your parents started arguing over the smallest thing, before your father quit his job, before you left town one day crying, you had been friends with Tara. You liked her because, unlike the rest of your classmates, she didn’t stare at you because you were Dewey and Gale’s daughter. She simply liked spending time with you, and you with her, which blossomed into a fast friendship that was sure enough cut short.
You were the best of friends, always hanging out. Sometimes, when your father came to pick you up from school, he would let you and Tara sit in the back of his police car and turn on the sirens, pretending you were dangerous criminals. You would cling onto Tara, giggling as your father joked around; you cherished those moments more than anything now that Dewey was simply a memory— a tombstone you couldn’t look at without crying.
That was exactly the reason why you reached out to Tara when your mother told you she had moved in with her sister, just like her wanting to leave behind that nightmare. She had happily agreed to meet with you, and you soon found yourself at a bar, drinking and talking, catching up with everything. She had pointedly left behind all that happened in Woodsboro, and you silently agreed, not wanting to remember your father, dead on the ground thanks to her friend. You had spent hours like that, phones on the table face-down so no one could interrupt you, and that was how you met Sam.
Sam was a blurry image to you. You could remember Tara mentioning her probably a little too much when you were young, always talking about how great her sister was at a certain sport, or how she had helped her defeat that big mean guy on a videogame because she couldn’t do it. You had never met her, however, because you barely went over to Tara’s, your mother prefering to keep a watchful eye on you just in case. You didn’t get much of a chance, however, because she left one day and suddenly all the loud praise was occupied by awkward silence.
Needless to say, you weren’t sure what to think of Sam, but she made up your mind for you pretty easily. She walked into the bar like she owned it, a tall figure clad in just a jacket that almost ran towards your table when her brown eyes landed on Tara.
“Sam?” Tara asked, leaving her glass of coke on the table to get up. “Did something happen?”
“Who are you?” Sam asked, not even looking at Tara to give her answer. You felt small under her intense stare.
“She’s Y/N,” Tara said, harsher than you expected. “An old friend.” Sam gave you another look, as if her eyes were enough to determine if you were a danger to her sister. You stayed still, as if you were being approached by a lion.
“We’re leaving,” Sam said. Tara gave you an apologetic look, and you simply nodded, watching as she got up and followed her sister. Outside, you saw them arguing, their screams almost sneaking in through the thick walls of the bars. You asked for the tab, thankful that your mother was rich.
What a bitch, you thought, shaking your head as you left the place, walking back towards your mother’s apartment.
A few hours later, Tara texted you to apologize, and once you replied she sent you her address, asking you to come over.
Having nothing better to do, you accepted.
━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━
“I’m so sorry,” Tara said, as soon as she closed the door. You took off your jacket, looking around before you sat down on the sofa Tara had pointed at.
“It’s okay,” you said, accepting the glass of water she handed you.
“God, I can’t stand her,” she said, throwing herself onto the sofa beside you. “She’s been like that ever since—” she gave you a small look before shaking her head. “You know. She’s so overbearing.”
“I get it,” you said, resting the glass on the coffee table. “I mean, you should’ve seen my mom when I was young. She barely let me go out when we moved here.”
Something like recognition crossed her eyes. “Right,” she said, sitting up. “Your mom’s Gale.”
“Yep,” you nodded, intertwining your hands together. “You guys killed the new ghostface together.” Something dark crossed over Tara’s face at the name, and you knew you had said the wrong thing.
“Yeah,” Tara said, voice sounding distant even though she was beside you. “Yeah, we did.”
“You know what?” You said, trying to cheer her up. “Forget about that. Tell me what’s your favorite artist.” Tara smiled, nodding as she turned to look at you. She opened her mouth at the same time the front door was opened.
“Oh.”
You turned to look at the woman, awkwardly standing by the door. For the looks of it, she was about to bolt from the apartment.
“You,” Tara said accusingly, rising from the sofa. She poked her sister in the chest with her index finger, and it was your time to wish you could leave this place. You couldn’t deal with family drama; you had had enough of it in your childhood.
“Me,” Sam said, allowing Tara to push her further into the apartment and close the door, leaving her no chance but to take the reprimand.
“Yes, you,” Tara said. You opened your eyes in surprise when she pointed at you. “You are going to apologize immediately to my friend for embarrassing her.”
“You’re the one embarrassing her now—”
“Samantha,” Tara said. It was funny to see the tall woman being bossed around by her sister, who was almost a head shorter. “You apologize right now.”
Sam looked into her sister’s eyes, and nodded. She turned to look at you, and you swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you said, offhandedly. “Don’t worry. I get it. My mom is even worse with people she doesn’t know.”
Sam nodded, and made a noise of complaint when Tara slapped her arm. “Her mom’s Gale.”
She opened her eyes, understanding crossing her face. “Shit,” she said, looking defeated. “I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay,” you repeated. “Really. My mom doesn’t mention me too much to strangers just in case. You couldn’t have known.”
“I’m going to my room,” Tara said. You gave her an indignant look. “Sam, apologize.”
“I already apologized!” Sam called. Tara didn’t look her way, instead turning and leaving, presumably towards her bedroom.
“Well, do it again!” She screamed as she slammed the door shut.
“As cheerful as I remember her,” you said, not sure how to fill the awkward silence.
“What?” Sam asked.
“Tara,” you clarified. “She used to be like that when she was young too. Good to know some things never change.”
“You— oh,” Sam said. You smiled at the look of recognition.
“Y/N Riley-Weathers,” you said, getting up. “I know, it’s a mouthful. My mom insisted I should have both last names.”
Sam smiled, nodding. “Right,” she said. “You mom is— interesting.”
“She’s a bit of a bitch,” you said. “Don’t get me wrong, I love her, but when it comes to her job… I’m surprised she hasn’t interviewed you for her new book yet.”
“She’s writing another book?” Sam asked, sitting down on one of the chairs of the dining table.
“She’s always writing another book,” you said, reaching towards your jacket, which Tara had left on the table. “Well, apology accepted. I’ll leave now.”
“Wait,” Sam called, getting up. “I really don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.”
“Well, you sure have made quite the impression,” you said.
“I know,” Sam said. “It’s just… Tara wasn’t answering the phone, for hours, and I saw an ambulance on my way out from work and I just… I thought she was gone.”
You smiled softly, understanding washing over you. The image of Dewey crossed your mind, always watching over you, keeping you safe no matter what. You had hated it back then, but now he wasn’t here anymore, you missed him and his protective nature more than anything. “I get it,” you said. “Really. But you should approach it differently. Tara is kinda headstrong on being her own person.”
“I know,” Sam said, sighing. “I just can’t help it.”
“It’s something you have to work on,” you said. “You ought to be a little bit messed up after what happened.”
“You saw the news, then?”
“Please. I live with the news,” you chuckled. “And if I’m not home in half an hour she’s going to call the police and have them patrol every corner of New York until they find me.”
“You should leave, then,” Sam said as she got up, running a hand through her face. She looked stressed, and tired. You felt sorry she had to go through all that just because of who her father was. “I— I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“I get it,” you said, putting on your jacket. “You’ve been through a lot. You just want to protect your sister.”
Sam looked at you, thankful that even though Tara seemed so focused on not understanding her, at least someone else did. “It’s still not an excuse.”
“No, it’s not,” you agreed, walking to stand in front of her. “How about this?” You moved closer to her, grabbing her jacket to stop her from pulling away. Her eyes were open in surprise at your boldness. “You take me out one day to compensate for your vile actions.”
Sam’s lips revealed a playful smirk as her hands grabbed your waist. The touch was soft, almost unsure since she didn’t know how much you would allow her. “I guess it’s my penitence.”
You hummed, eyes momentarily on her lips before looking up again at her eyes. “Pick me up tomorrow, six o’clock.”
Sam nodded, her hands dropping as soon as you moved away. “Wait!” She called when you began to open the front door. You turned around, giving her a questioning look. “I don’t have your number.”
You smiled, walking towards her. Sam pulled her phone out of her pocket, but you simply kissed her cheek and pulled away. “Ask your sister.”
You left her there, eyes on you as you disappeared through the door. 
━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━
Shortly after that, you two began dating. Tara was a little taken aback at first, the thought of her childhood friend and her sister together disgusting her to the point she made a face whenever she saw the two of you kissing. Thankfully, she got over it quickly, her discomfort shortly turning into excitement. Her sister was happy with someone she approved of, and given that you two were dating, all of Sam’s overprotective tendencies had changed direction and were now aimed at you.
It was perfect, until it wasn’t.
You were staying over, having decided to sleep in Sam’s bedroom after she asked you to; something about it being too late and some news she had read about cabs in New York not being trustworthy (you had rolled your eyes at that because, really, what was trustworthy in New York?) You had barely needed convincing, the thought of her warm bed and her arms, firmly and protectively wrapped around you enough to convince you.
You woke up alone in bed, and went over to check your phone. 06:32. Sam would probably be getting ready for work, judging by the sound of running water coming from the bathroom, so you decided to get up and make breakfast for her and Tara, who would be leaving for college.
You had taken a year off after your father’s funeral, knowing that studying wasn’t exactly what you needed, especially because you were aware you wouldn’t be able to focus on anything. You needed to heal, and thankfully your mother was okay with your decision.
You made toast with eggs and bacon for Sam, and got out a bowl and cereal for when Tara woke up, since she had declared one day she was vegan and didn’t want to “eat murder anymore”, whatever that meant. You got it all ready and smiled when you heard Sam open the bathroom door, going to the kitchen when she smelled the food.
“God, you’re amazing,” Sam said, hugging you from behind. You turned off the stove, moving the food onto a plate. She smelled amazing, the shampoo she used fresh and still clinging to her skin. Though she had dried her hair, it was still a little wet where it connected with your neck, making you giggle.
“I know, right?” You said, leaning into her. You loved how warm she always was, in comparison to your cold skin. “I’m the best girlfriend ever.”
“Indeed,” Sam said against your head, biting your earlobe before kissing your neck. “The bestest of them all.” You giggled again, her breath tickling your skin pleasantly.
“God, it’s not even seven in the morning.”
Sam and you turned around to see Tara, standing in the kitchen with an angry look on her face. She was not a morning person.
“My apologies, Tara dear,” you said, pushing Sam into a chair and putting the plate in front of her. You handed her the cutlery with a kiss on the forehead, smirking when Tara groaned. “You want something with your cereal?”
“I want you to stop making out with my sister everywhere.”
“Hard pass,” you said, moving Sam’s hair to help it get dry faster. “Your sister is obsessed with me.”
“Ugh,” Tara said, pouring in the cereal before drowning it with soy milk. “I should’ve never introduced you two.”
“Our souls would’ve found a way back to each other without your intervention,” you said, resting your chin on top of Sam’s head. The girl smiled, abandoning her knife in favor of holding your hand.
“Gross.”
“You are gross,” Sam said.
“Look who’s talking,” Tara said, giving her sister a mocking look of disgust. “I know what you two get up to in that room of yours.”
“Jesus, Tara,” you said, pulling away to walk towards the living room. “Eat your breakfast and stop talking, will you?”
“Ah, so you don’t deny it.”
“Idiot,” you whispered. You sat down on the sofa, searching for the remote controller. Once you did, you turned the TV on, and sighed when you saw your mother on the screen. “She really doesn’t know what it means to take a break.”
You turned on the volume when you saw she was standing in front of an alley, police tape behind her. Your heart sunk into your stomach when you saw the headline.
“Ghostface is back.”
“Sam,” you called, urgently. You went to check your phone as Sam got up, probably alarmed by the tone of your voice. You finally saw all the notifications from your mother, calling you and asking where you were.
“Honey?” She asked, looking at you with concern. She lowered herself in front of you, eyes examining you to know what was wrong. You pointed at the TV, and once she read the headline she tensed, the hand on your thigh gripping you hard. “No,” she said, breathlessly.
“What is it?” Tara asked, picking up on the mood shift. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the TV, still going over the news.
“I—” Sam said. She looked out of it, face stoic as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. “I have to go to work.”
“College,” said Tara in the same tone. You watched with concern as the two moved around the house, almost on autopilot, gathering their things and getting ready to leave.
“I’ll see you later, okay?” You said to Sam when you saw her in her work clothes. She nodded, eyes not fully looking at you as she opened the front door Tara had just left through. She shook her head as if to get rid of a haze, and gave you a long kiss.
“I love you,” she said against your lips.
━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━
But you didn’t see her later, or the next day. When you went over to the apartment, Quinn told you they had gone over to meet with Chad and Mindy, so you went back over to your mother’s house.
She was pushing you away. You knew it, and you hated it. You hated how she was letting this new ghostface get in between you, but you mostly hated how she felt like being with you would put you in danger.
You almost laughed out loud at the thought, there in the middle of the street. As if. Your mother was Gale Weathers, your father Dewey Riley— this shit had been following you way before you met her. But of course, it was Sam. Sweet, caring Sam, who constantly put others first, who always did anything to protect those she loved, even if it meant putting her own life on the line.
Once you were inside the apartment, you sat down in your bed, looking at all the unanswered messages you had sent her the past few days.
Samantha, you wrote, and then deleted. It felt too formal. You typed in a final message before locking your phone, throwing yourself onto the bed.
You weren’t sure when you had fallen asleep, but you were awakened by the sound of the phone line ringing. You groaned, rubbing your eyes as you got up, cursing your mother for still owning one of those. It wasn’t the 90s anymore.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Y/N,” the sound of that voice made your skin run cold. “Wanna play a game?”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m inside your house,” they said in a singsong voice. “Wanna play hot and cold?”
━━━ • 𖥸 • ━━━
When Sam saw she had gotten a call from Gale, she knew something was wrong.
She had known early that morning when she woke up, something in the pit of her stomach telling her to go to you, to hold you and never let you go. But she couldn’t, not until she figured out who was behind those new attacks. She wouldn’t risk you— she wouldn’t lead that killer right to your doorstep and have you killed because of her. No, she would rather die than put you in that type of danger.
“It’s Y/N,” Gale said urgently, when she answered the phone. “I— I called an ambulance. They’re on their way, but— god.”
Sam had started running towards your apartment the moment your name fell out of your mother’s lips. She pushed people out of the way, barely noticing she was gasping for air, or that Gale was still talking.
“—so much blood,” she said. Sam ran into the gateway, pressing onto the elevator bottom a few times before cursing, deciding to take the stairs instead.
“Is she breathing?” Sam asked. One more floor, one more and she’d be there with you.
“I—” Gale was gasping for air. “I don’t know.”
Sam pushed the door open, thankful it had been left ajar. She didn’t see the blood on the floor, or your mother crying beside you— all she could see was your body, bloody and deadly still.
“Y/N,” she called in a whisper. Gale jumped at the sound of Sam’s phone falling to the ground, knife in hand ready to kill anyone who had dared hurt her daughter. She lowered it at the same time Sam lowered herself on the floor, hands shaking as she grabbed you and held you in her arms. Her fingers clumsily set on your neck, trying to find a pulse like a thirsty man searches for water in the desert. She gasped in relief when she felt it. Slow, a little too slow, but it didn’t matter; your heart was still beating.
“I can’t lose her,” Gale sobbed. “I already lost Dewey, I can’t… not her,” she looked at Sam with pleading eyes; she had never seen your mother so paralyzed with fear. It was an eerie sight.
“You won’t,” Sam said, voice firm. She took off her outer shirt, using it to press onto your biggest wound, which was located on the stomach. “She’s not dying. She’s not.”
Determination washed over, taking with it the leftovers of panic and distress. There would be time for lament and regret later, once you were safely in a hospital bed.
“God,” Gale said when Sam began to raise you. Blood splashed over the carpet, and she almost threw up at the sight.
“You called an ambulance?” Sam asked. She was holding you in her lap, your head falling limply into her shoulder.
“Yes.”
“I’m taking her downstairs,” Sam said. The pressure she was applying on the wound was helping, because it had stopped most of the bleeding. “I’m not fucking waiting until they get their fucking asses up the stairs.”
And so she got up, holding you in her arms. She carefully cradled your head in her neck, making sure it stayed secure so you wouldn’t accidentally hit something and got a concussion. It was the last thing you needed at that moment. She made sure your hands were on your stomach, pressing lightly onto the wound —it was better than nothing.
“You’re not dying on me,” Sam whispered. She was climbing down the stairs, Gale right behind her. “You’re not, okay, baby?” She felt herself getting choked up at the thought. “You’re gonna be okay.”
Shortly after, the ambulance showed up, and Sam ran towards them. She set you down onto the stretcher gently, and pressed onto the wound until one of the paramedics reached over, grabbing her hand and telling her she needed to leave.
She stood where she had been forced to stay, ignoring all the looks she received. It wasn’t until Gale grabbed her by the arm and moved her out of the way that she noticed she had been standing in the middle of the road.
“She’s being taken to the hospital,” she spoke softly. Sam looked at her arms, covered in blood— covered in your blood, and she almost broke down. Instead, she swallowed, putting her hands on her pockets. “I’ll take you there. I picked up your phone,” she pushed it into Sam’s chest, and she grabbed it. Great, the screen was completely broken. “Call your sister and tell her what’s happened. Tell her you’ll meet at the hospital.”
“Okay,” Sam said. Her dull tone almost scared her. She felt drained. “Okay,” she repeated, watching as Gale went to her car and got inside. It took her a few seconds to open the passenger door, and a few too many trying to unlock her phone to call her sister.
All she could think about was you, and getting revenge on what they had done to you.
1K notes · View notes
comradekatara · 6 days
Note
Genuinely asking—what changes would you make to the adult gaang designs? :)
this is such a fun question thank u for enabling me. i mean i draw them as adults sometimes so also check out my /oldergaang tag if u want visuals (altho i also change my designs a lot because my art is nothing if not inconsistent) but if i was just going with like standard character designs like if i could redesign that hideous “old friends” poster for example…
aang: get rid of that fucking. chinstrap. don’t give him white man features because what the hell is that. and let him wear his off the shoulder monk robes from book 3 because he was slaying with that fit. actually the way aang is drawn in imbalance is basically perfect i would retain that design into adulthood. thank u peter wartman for all that u do….
katara: i don’t mind the older katara design (from the little we see of it) but it’s also not nearly as cunty and slayful as i would like. katara is genuinely interested in fashion and loves experimenting with clothes and hair and makeup, i refuse to believe that as she ages and has more resources to tailor her style to her own personal tastes she wouldn’t get a little funky with it. like she kind of just looks boring and uninspired in her older design, and that’s unacceptable to me because she should be hot. adult katara should be the hottest woman you have ever seen in your life. and she should be buff, also. shredded, even.
toph: any signifiers of copness are obviously unacceptable to me. but even more that than, it’s very important to me that older toph is distinctly butch. i think she would cut her hair the second she realizes that there is no reconciliation to be found with her parents and that there is no reason to adhere to those confucian values. and she would wear a lot of sleeveless outfits (sort of like the shirt korra wears in “korra alone”) to show off her biceps and also space bracelet (spacelet) that is her prized possession forever. and she’s just kind of a hot hippie butch legend . period.
zuko: in the old friends poster he literally looks like a lizard so just like. no. wtf. and i like his long hair in theory but i don’t like that it’s styled after ozai and not ursa, i think his hair would be shwoopier and frame his face more. and his robes should be less spiky and militaristic and more designed for comfort because that’s what makes him feel most like his true authentic self and he deserves that. also weird for a guy who is trying to demilitarize the fire nation to wear an armor-adjacent type of outfit. so mainly he’d just look softer and more like his mom.
sokka: i hate buff goatee whitewashed sokka that is some kind of demon. lok did so little with him and yet said so much (all of it egregiously wrong, ofc). sokka would be fairly tall (although not as tall as aang) and have defined muscle but in a sinewy, lanky way. and despite always having enough to eat he’d still look somewhat malnourished just because he’s constantly overworked and exhausted and never takes care of himself. and his ponytail would be longer but he’d still shave the sides. and the older he gets the darker his clothes get until he basically just wears black all the time because at some point he realizes that it’s more advantageous to remain culturally ambiguous if he’s gonna be a cosmopolitan. and he wears glasses (which were a gift from kuei). and sometimes he uses a cane because he didn’t sufficiently take care of his broken leg after the war ended and now he’s paying the price for it. and his cane has a blade inside too, but he rarely ever even pulls out the blade because he can incapacitate someone with just a wooden stick anyway. so he looks like if a nerd was a shadow was about to collapse at any given moment was secretly ruling the entire world. and he’s not in any sort of front-facing position of power whatsoever but he’s actually pulling all the strings from behind the scenes, and it’s exhausting. his eyebags are visible from outer space.
suki: i don’t even think there is a “canon” adult suki character design besides her in her kyoshi warrior armor and makeup but to me casual suki just starts dressing more like sokka. like the loose baggy sleeveless shirts (except in a lighter shade of blue bc kyoshi island colors) and tight pants and boots. it’s a very dykey look already and they’re basically girlfriend twins so their styles would merge even more than it already has within the show itself. like sometimes people think that sokka and suki are siblings because they dress so similarly and give off such a similar vibe and they’re just like “but we’re literally different ethnicities??? and also we are currently making out????”
okay bonus round bc i can’t just neglect them
azula: she cuts her hair really short and as an adult leaves it to shoulder length for the most part because that’s more comfortable for her. like zuko, she also starts dressing for comfort, and for a period in her late teens stops wearing makeup altogether. she gets back into wearing makeup as an adult, but she stops caring about whether or not she leaves the house with lipstick on, and it becomes more about the process for her than the result. she’s comfy and cute and dykey.
mai: sokka is her lesbian style icon so after her first haircut that was inspired by toph’s haircut to piss off her parents, she gets an undercut and starts wearing her hair in a ponytail like sokka. as she gets older she also gets more confident in her body and doesn’t feel like she needs to wear baggy long-sleeved clothing at all times or she’ll die. and she isn’t rail thin as an adult either because she starts letting herself eat more than a single grain of rice at a time. also, she gets a sword.
ty lee: she becomes a kyoshi warrior so she starts incorporating more blues and greens into her wardrobe, but also more oranges and yellows after she embraces her air nomad heritage. and she just dresses very colorfully and has a vast rotation of different cute little outfits. and i think she’d also experiment with different hairstyles once she has the freedom to define herself outside of the aesthetics expected of her. she looks beautiful always
haru: he finally shaves that thang
152 notes · View notes
queenendless · 24 days
Text
💗 Cafe Time 💗
A/n: Imma count this as an April Fool's prank cause it's kinda nonsense.
AU centric where JJK cast here are chibis, as is everyone else in this world, and you are the sole normal sized human there.
Cute fluffy filled crack nonsense that is short as hell and cause I've wanted to write chibi stuff for a long time.
Itafushi, NobaMaki, and HaiNana crumbs here and there but SatoSugu x GN!Reader in the end.
DON'T REPOST, PLAGARIZE, COPY, EDIT, TRANSLATE AND/OR STEAL MY FANFIC CONTENT. IF YOU ENJOY MY CONTENT THEN REBLOG, LIKE, COMMENT & FOLLOW PLEASE AND THANK YOU.
AND HAPPY APRIL FOOL'S! 💌
Tumblr media
The tale of a regular sized normie getting teleported to a Japan where everyone but themselves is chibi sized.
Their resisting negation to cursed energy that in the strongest in the country leads to your immediate discovery and recruitment into a place to stay as well as work by a burly mid aged bearded man with shades.
Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College Cafe.
Your newfound workplace and home. Where you met some regulars that quickly became your favorites.
“L/n-san~!” Dear Yuji lifted the cookie atop him, smothered in whipped cream with a bright smile and a wave reserved for you. “Eat me~! Just kidding~!”
Your pinky finger gently ruffled his salmon haired head. “Your teasing is very much warranted, you precious boi.”
In the parfait cup filled with ice cream, whipped cream and berries, a storm cloud raged atop Megumi's brooding head. “Get me outta here or I will shatter this glass.”
Yuji's face became pale with doom, hissing at you conspiratory. “He ain't kidding.”
You reached down and pulled out said grumpy Megumi who took the shinigami dog shaped candy, bashfully thanked you, and shyly pecked you on the cheek, compelling you to smooch him right on the nose. “Favorite tsundere here.”
You dropped him down on table level for Yuji to smother his boi in a good old bear hug; his infectious smile causing his emo bae to blush and ease into it and smile back.
“Maki-san~! Nibble on me~!” Nobara sung suggested cozied smack dabbed in her macaron.
“You idiot. Why did you have to admit that out loud? Here of all places?” Maki murmured, bashfully blushing, looking away amiss her red bean filled pancake sandwich.
“Maki-san! I love you~!” An unashamed Nobara rushed outta her macaron to tackle Maki into a bean pasted draped hug.
“Here.” You lifted off their pancake cover before handing a decent sized handkerchief to the girls as you passed by, earning winks of thanks from the pair before their stained faces grew messier as they commended a make out session under said hankie.
“Konbu! Tsuna Tsuna! Mentaiko!” The orange topped Toge waves eagerly at you from his perched spot on his own cupcake.
“I see you my boi and I've missed you too.” Your offered finger was taken by the rice ball speaking boi, swinging him to land before Panda lounging in the middle of a smore treat.
“Give me a hand, little buddy, tall buddy.”
“Takana!” Toge's mini hand and your long finger were more than enough to pull the fuzzy cursed doll out, though the chocolate sauce and marshmallows stuck to his fur.
You magically pulled out a wet rag to clean him up, humming at the now pristine baby. “My gift to you, my precious Panda.”
“L/n-san! Lift off please and thank you~!”
You picked up Yu's back collar to place him atop his fruit sandwich for him to slide down the creamy path, bumping right into Nanami. “Sandwich slide, hazah~!”
“Why must you condone this nonsense?” Kento commented through a mouthful of his subway sandwich, lightly bopping Haibara on his noggin as an attempted scolding.
“He's your partner. You tell me.” Your sassiness made the stern Nanami purse his lips at you in defiance but had Haibara chortling to his further annoyance, firmly tugging on his cheeks to gargle those noises, only amusing his partner more, finally doing here and now to kiss him just to keep him quiet.
Haibara's face glowed all smitten like. “Aw I love you too – !”
“Hush you and eat.” Nanami couldn't suppress a grin as he ate his subway with his favorite boi.
“Job well done, fellow yaoi buddy.” Shoko snorted at what she just saw, lounging in her lemon tea sponge cake, raising her small palm for you to give a carefully slow high five indeed.
“Keep your hands to yourself, assassin.” Riko narrowed dagger eyes at the scarred man across the room, cherry atop her head as she floated in a literal ice cream soda float.
“Riko-sama, be cautious, now.” Misato cautioned her, doing her best to stay blended within her fruity spread.
“I think he's retired from that lifestyle now.” You assured the pair, settling their nerves down when you handed them a plush doll with two eyes, eight legs and horns for them to cuddle and ride on.
“Suguru~ They're so pretty~!” Satoru plopped red bean paste sweetness into his mouth as he watched you move to and fro throughout the cafe.
Suguru munched on the cherry that sat atop with him on the cupcake. “Despite the major height difference, I will admit they look docile.”
“In that case – !” Gojo got down on one knee. “Marry us please~!”
Geto nearly choked. “Toru, we're still dating!”
Gojo got up to kiss him fully on the lips. “Well, we've practically been wedded since day one so …”
Geto's eyes crinkled with tender mirth, humming as he kissed back. “Can't argue with that logic.”
Grabbing his hand, the albino of the two floated them both on up high to reach you. “Plus, a poly ship is very sexy~”
The fact that the iconic strongest pair landed on either shoulder to kiss you simultaneously on your cheeks touched your heart.
“Aw, I – MMPH!”
The super human chibi that is Toji threw his bagel like a Frisbee disk right into your mouth. “Oi. You. This donut ain't cuttin’ it for me. Get me some beer, huh?”
“Dad!” Megumi snapped on your behalf.
“He is a beast.” Yuji anxiously sweated at the alarmingly impressive feat.
“I wanna duel him even more now.” Maki, a fellow non-cursed fighter, got fired up after peaking outside to witness his simple yet stellar stunt.
“Eh!? We already called dibs!” Gojo flared up, steam coming outta his ears.
“Hands off, monkey.” Geto emanated pure unfiltered hatred for the brute killer.
All three men had their eyes cast in shadow as literal sparks of agitation flew between them, ruining the cozy vibe of the cafe.
Able to chew and swallow that bagel up, you could speak again. “Knock yourself out, you beast.” Whisking out a jug of booze outta the blue, you knew the superhuman killer could take it, his smug self already chugging it down with one hand.
“Physically gifted,” Yuji and Maki breathed out in amazement.
“As I was gonna say,” you cupped your hands out for GoGe to sit on, your e/c eyes sparkling down at them, “Of course I'll marry you two. Size and all.”
A giggling Satoru and an amused Suguru are over the moon with your acceptance, bringing them close enough for them to smooch your lips in unison.
However later, you got an earful of “Goddamn” from your chibi sized boss at giving someone alcohol at his fine establishment.
But, you could tolerate it.
All these cuties make it all worth it.
Especially your new beaus.
137 notes · View notes
yandereheathen · 5 months
Text
The Cost of Protection [Yandere elf guard x Fem Reader] 18+ Chapter #1
Based in Barovia (Curse of strahd, some dusk elf lore spoilers) Warnings: Non-con touching/kissing/ some violence, obsessive treatment, death threats necromancy?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Living in Barovia was hard enough; trying to do business in it is quite the other. Besides all of the ghosts, Undead creatures, and living under the tyranny of a centuries-old whiny vampire, everything was complicated. Still, you had your own set of struggles. Your Tavern was not necessarily famous, but it did good business. You had your regulars, Travelers who would sometimes come and try their hand at defeating the vampire lord Who you never saw again unless it was their Undead body, and some other travelers who were peddling wears pies, toys, weapons, anything that you could imagine then there was the common folk and Crafts People. Everyone was welcome in your Tavern. You offered a warm smile, a glass to drink, and whatever you could scratch up to cook that day; however, you had one unwelcome guest who changed your path forever.
 Maverick
 It wasn't uncommon that Dusk elves would come into your Tavern. They followed Vistani and often went through the cities of Barovia on a standard route, and more and more did you feel like you saw them integrating with the town, so seeing one dressed in a guard uniform was unusual but not unheard of. His long dark hair was braided up in leather twine, and his eyes were the standard golden color, but you did see a tiredness in them. He was only an inch or two shorter than you. After all, you were pretty tall for a human, but he was well-built and had hands that showed both work and strength. His smile and his voice were the things that stood out most. It had a ruggedness that you admitted caused a little heat in your cheeks the first time you spoke with him.
  Speaking of the first time, You remember clearly the first time he stopped by your Tavern. You treated him sweetly, flashed a smile, and put your arms down in front of him, looking up at him with innocent eyes leaning at the bar.
"Anything to drink, sir?"
You Tend to be flirty with everybody. It was basically in a bar person's job description. Still, you noticed that some visitors would give you an extra coin or became regulars if you gave them special treatment. However, his smile made you a little uneasy, almost excited. It was a smile that said he appreciated your treatment and wanted more, how much more you didn't quite understand that time. Did you know that that smile would lead to many other things? He just put your hand just under your cheek and, tilted his head, and said
"I think a beer or mash number 8 would be okay before I have to eat. I could live off your voice and those beautiful eyes forever.
 You just left thinking he was making some flirtatious joke, pulled his draft, and handed it to him. From what you've gathered, asking him simple questions about his life gave you non-committal answers or general mods. He was pretty new around town and it was just getting to know all of the local businesses, and he heard that you could get a good cup for cheap and that a cute shop girl was serving the drinks. You laughed again at his flirtatious joke, but you noticed that his eyes never left you from your lips to your shoulders, down your neck to your chest. Even to your backside, when you were turned around and helping other customers with their drinks, you didn't think much of it then. Still, it definitely left you a little unnerved.
Tumblr media
 After that, he became one of your regulars. You knew his drink by heart, you knew what he liked to sit in at what time, and you learned exactly how to speak with him. Not too much, but he did enjoy hearing a little bit about your day. He wasn't much of a talker, but you don't mind, or you did not have the time. 
One night, a set of particularly Rowdy young men was causing ruckuses in your Tavern. You tried to compile them with free drinks and sweet words, but you needed more. It all came to a head when one of them tried to get handsy on you, and he was greeted with a sword to his neck. The man went still as Maverick whispered in his ear, pressing the dagger a little bit closer enough to cut into his neck. He looked at the other two men and said in his low, deep voice. 
"Oh, did you both want to be next? As much as I would joy putting all your heads on a platter and making it for the next stew, this one would not appreciate making a mess of her Tavern. How about all of us be nice to you all? Get the hell out of here before I make an example."
 They tried to avoid messing with a guard, let alone a dusk elf. There were rumors of them knowing dark magic. Magic rants to them after the travesty of their women being wiped out, dark magic that was taught to them by Rahadin, the right-hand Master of the lord of the world. The ability to raise the dead and control minds are abilities right from hell."
 They all scurried off. You were thankful, bowing to Maverick and taking his hand, promising free drinks for the rest of the night. Still, he took your hand and looked at you, his golden eyes hidden behind something mischievous, something lustful that weighed heavy on your heart. In your chest, you felt the heat rise up from your stomach.
"Darling, we can make a better arrangement. How would you like me to offer my protection?"
 You looked at him, confused, but still held his hand, your head tilted. 
"I would always be thankful, but isn't that what you usually do? I wouldn't want you to give me special treatment."
 "Oh well,"
 He takes your face and his hand. Squeezing your cheeks ever so slightly, 
"If you give me special treatment, I'll give you and your customers special treatment. After all, you wouldn't want anything to happen to you, your Tavern, or your customers, would you, darling?"
 He forces your eyes up to his and brings your lips closer. The rest of the Tavern, already daunted by the commotion, looks away. You simply nod in agreement, and he lets you go, patting your shoulder and laughing good-heartedly. 
"well, perfect, I think I'll take my first payment tonight."
 You panicked, thinking about how much she could get into the day, and said, 
"How much are you asking for? I've already offered you free drinks. I don't know what more I can do.-"
 He cuts you off, putting his finger to your lips. 
"Don't worry. You have everything that I could want to need."
 And he walks off.
Tumblr media
 After closing, when all of the lights in the streets were out and the spirits were already roaming the streets, you clutched to your apron, putting up the last of the chairs. The candle lights were just barely about to go out. You counted up all of your money from the day, and while you made enough of an earning, you were very worried that he would not have enough to pay for this new extortion. You had heard stories of guards and heroes extorting young men and women for protection. You did not think it would happen to you that living in a place of cold and darkness was curse enough, but it looked like the fates had a little more for you. 
You almost didn't hear him come in as he stuck his hands around your waist and up your throat. You tried to yell out, but his hand covered your mouth, and he kissed just the side of your ear as you immediately felt yourself wanting to flee. Then he whispered in your ear, 
"Oh, now that's a pleasing darling. As much as I would have so much fun chasing you, I don't have the time tonight to have my cute little rabbit." 
He put his hands down your hip, lifted your dress, and ran his hand up your thigh as he kissed your jawline and neck. You stammered, still trying to get free. 
"You said you wanted payment. I'm really to pay. The draw is open. Take what you want. I don't care. Please, just don't hurt me."
 You cry through your struggles, but he just laughs, nipping where your neck and your shoulder mean, 
"Oh no, my little rabbit. As much as it delights me to hear you after having to endure hearing you simper over every man who can give you coin, I'm finally able to take the prize that is Rightfullymine after all that will be our deal."
 He lifts you up and plenty down on the closest table, the wood scratching into your shoulder, your head banging painfully on it. You cry out in pain. It is silenced by his mouth crashing into yours in a kiss. A rough kiss. He pins your hands down, holding his fingers In times with yours as his tongue searches into your open mouth, wrestling to pin it down. You see his golden eyes boring into yours like a beast unleashed. You stand there stunned, unable to move with his weight pushed against you. Even with your slight height Advantage, his trained muscle and sheer force can do nothing. 
He breaks apart, your lips bruised and your tongue hanging out of your mouth, a stream of saliva connecting both of your mouths. 
"Please, why are you doing this?"
 You manage to choke out as you feel him grinding into your lower half just underneath your dress. 
"Well, it's pretty simple, my cute little rabbit. I only joined the guard because I was bored, and I thought I could find some fun beating up the locals or helping young maidens. Still, I saw you, a bright Lily, and a swamp of muck to see simpering and pampering to everybody who entered your Tavern was so endearing I knew I needed to have you. I knew that you were mine, don't you understand? When elves mate, they mate for life, so that means."
He cried to you rougher you feel his hard cock rubbing into your own sex with a need want to be inside you. 
"You will be mine for the rest of your life. I will ensure that. If you don't want to be mine, it's pretty simple- you don't have to."
 You blink this as he lets you sit up, but he still stands between your legs.
"You mean you'll just let me go. You won't do anything?"
 You look at him, hoping that this is some weird pass, and you would know he would just leave you alone. But your hopes are soon crushed.
"oh no, my darling, if you say no," 
he moves in closer, and his sword falls at the back of your neck. 
"I will kill you and make sure you are raised as a zombie who has no free will and who is forced to do my bidding for the rest of your Undead life. Do you understand me, my cute little rabbit?"
 At that, you feel a heat emanating from his sword, a Blackness clouding around the edges of your eyes, and you know that his promise holds truth. Your body goes rigid and shakes, and tears silently stream down your eyes as he takes you in his arms, rubbing your back oddly comfortingly or trying to be with his sword. His other hand grips your bottom, pulling you closer as he snuggles into your neck, inhaling your scent.
"so you decide to make, my darling. Either I can have you here of your own free will, where I will love and protect you in this Tavern, or I will have the pleasure of seeing your beautiful blood dripping down your chest. I can have you as my perfect little Undead doll."
 "The choice is yours. You pretty little rabbit."
184 notes · View notes
scarletttries · 1 year
Text
Forever Mine (Kendall Roy Succession Request)
Pairing: Kendall Roy (Succession) x F! Reader
Rating: Explicit (Breeding Kink/ Jealous Kendall)
Word Count: 2.1k
Request: "Hiii Scarlett!!! I LOVE to read your kendall roy writings💜 can you write something about kendall trying to get you pregnant( bc I LOVED breeding kink) ?? Or having rough sex bc getting jealous of one of his friends' attention to u??"
Author's note: Thank you so much for this excellent request, I kind of combined the two ideas into the below fic for you 🥰💕
Tumblr media
Forever Mine
"How can a company that makes more money than really exists in the world still need more investors?" You sighed into your fizzing glass of champagne as you continued to circulate through the crowd, Gerri stifling a laugh at your side.
"How'd you think the rich stay rich? They never use their own money for anything." She feigned a smile as a group of men shuffled past, their metaphorical wallets straining against the fabric of their designer suits as they moved. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta go make them all feel important, so I can keep my job." You could see her eyes roll as she plastered on a fake smile and left you stood by the bar, hoping that Kendall would get bored soon enough and call it a night for the both of you. You never minded being his plus one to events like this, the chance to see him in his charming element not one you'd pass up, Ken stealing glances your way all night with a smile on his face that he only wore for you. But after a few hours the conversations always wore a little thin, and you usually found one of the old guard hovering beside you to make sure you weren't doing anything that might get people commenting.
"Are you waiting for a drink?" An strangely familiar voice snapped you back to reality, spinning on your heels to find a tall, well-built man in his fifties smiling at you like a lion spying a gazelle.
"No, I'm all set thank you, just pausing here for a moment." You replied with a courteous smile, taking a small step backwards as if you were blocking the bar that spanned the length of the decadent hall.
"Would you mind if I 'pause' with you for a moment?" It was then that you placed his suave voice in your mind, the man an up-and-coming congressman that couldn't stop appearing on ATN news shows, repeating whatever lines Logan's team had written from him that day. As he leaned over the bar to ask for a whiskey you took the opportunity to glance around for an exit plan, but with groups of investors all deep in conversation on every side of you, you swallowed the acid in your throat and resigned yourself to an uncomfortable conversation with the awful man in front of you.
"Of course, it's a pleasure to meet you congressman." Kendall would've been able to tell your polite tone was entirely fake, but the man in front of you smirked proudly at the title, pleased you knew who he was and hoping to score more than financial backing from you this evening.
"The pleasure's all mine." He stretched out the hand that wasn't holding an ornate crystal glass, taking what should have been a courteous handshake way too far as he leant forward to bring his lips to the top of your hand, still curled in a stomach curdling smirk as they pressed against your skin. "Now tell me, exactly how much would I have to invest in Waystar for you to leave this shindig with me tonight?"
"You might have better luck if you don't hit on the date of the richest man in here." Before you could spit out your own retort, you heard the dark drawl of Kendall appearing beside you, face twisted in stoney discontent as the political pawn tried to save face a little.
"Fair enough, I know when I'm beat." He raised his hands in fake surrender as he backed away, but not before throwing a final uncomfortable wink your way, "You know who I am, if you change your mind." You could feel Kendall's hand fall to your lower back in response, trying to keep you in the palm of his hand, as if this disgusting character could actually pull you away from him. Hoping to lighten the tension between the two men before Kendall pulled some strings and ended this man's career, you let out an uneasy laugh,
"Well you've got my vote." You cringed at the hollow chuckle from Kendall beside you as your politician smiled again and stepped off into the crowd, looking for easier prey, leaving you to try and reassure the embodiment of jealousy beside you.
"Kendall, you know-"
"You ready to get out of here?" He cut you off before you could start, the unsettling smile on his face difficult to read as he threaded his fingers through yours and scouted out the nearest lift to take you out of the events hall and up to the hotel suites the Roy family had booked out for the night.
"Yeah, of course, let's go love." You said the final word extra softly, watching the corners of his mouth twitch slightly, unable to contain his warmth at the affectionate pet name, your love the truest thing he'd known in his complex life.
You felt his hand squeeze yours as he led you through the crowd until finally the two of you were alone, the chirpy elevator music cutting through an otherwise tense silence.
"You know I was trying to be polite Ken." You offered reassuringly, Kendall keeping his gaze fixed to the floor numbers illuminating on the touch screen beside you.
"I know honey, it's not your fault men can't fucking stay away from you." His tone was almost vindicative as the doors finally opened on your floor, a sprawling penthouse for just the two of you, another exquisite home away from home for the night.
The moment the doors behind you slid shut, Kendall was on top of you, his teeth clashing against yours with the sheer force of his passion. The crash of his lips took your breath away as his hands found your hips, gripping them tight enough that the silky fabric of your dress bunched in handfuls as he guided your back to the chaise longue that stood at the opening of the suite, the bedroom far too great a distance to travel.
As your lower back met the antique fabric, Kendall's hands skimmed up your the length of your spine, sending shivers through your body as his lips moved hungrily to your neck, a devouring the soft flesh there enough to leave a trail of deep purple lovebites,
"Why is it so fucking hard for everyone to see that you're mine?" Kendall panted into your neck as he pulled the straps of your dress down your shoulders, handling you with rough, frantic movements, his chest heaving against yours as he worked to free you from the satin that came between you.
"I'm all yours Kendall." You breathed out as your dress hit the floor, relishing in the guttural growl the words drew from the still fully-dressed man, drinking in the sight of you as he cupped your cheek in his hand and drew you in for another hungry kiss.
"I know love, I just think we need to make that more obvious." His tongue danced against yours as his eye fluttered shut, shrugging off his jacket as you pushed it from his shoulders. His lips trailed over your chin and down your throat as he sunk to his knees. He sucked and nipped at your exposed skin, his hands running along your sides as his head sank between your breasts before settling at your stomach, peppering the soft curves with kisses as his fingers tugged your panties down your thighs, helping you step out of them so nothing obstructed his perfect view of your body.
"How are we gonna do that?" You questioned absentmindedly as you let the sensation flooding from his sinking kisses run through your veins, his lips inching closer and closer to your tingling centre. You didn't miss the devilish glint in his eye as he paused and looked up at you, face hovering so close to your entrance you could feel his hot breath against your sensitive skin.
"I can think of two ways." He nuzzled his nose softly against your clit and watched the way your body reacted so desperately to his touch, your hips twitching forward and your chest rising as you gasped at the contact. His tongue darted forward to add to the sensation, lapping at the bundle of nerves while one hand snaked up your inner thigh. The moan you let out as he hummed against you only made him happier as his fingers toyed with your slit, now wet with your slick from the way he'd manhandled you. "It's so easy for me to tell you're all mine when you get this wet for me." His fingers dipped inside your entrance as he spoke, you knees all but buckling at the relief in your throbbing core at the contact, the arm of the sofa behind you the only thing keeping you upright.
"All for you Kendall." His name came out entirely in moan as he plunged two of his fingers into you with a frantic rhythm, wanting to get you more than ready to feel the rest of him deep inside you.
"Maybe I should let everyone know just how much you like my fingers inside you by putting a fucking enormous diamond on yours." He watched, enamoured by the way you eyes shot open at his words before clenching shut as his lips found your clit again, bringing you so close to the edge of your pleasure that all you could do was smile and hum in agreement at his words. As he started to feel the familiar tremble of your thighs he pulled his hand away, groaning at the needy whimper that left your lips as he did.
"Ken?" Your eyes were as pleading as your words as you watched him unbuckle his belt, rubbing your thighs together to try and ease some of the frustration that was pulsing in your centre.
"I think the second way is much more fun though." His eyes were dark with desire as he kicked off his dress pants, letting you see his hard length leaking excitedly as he grabbed your hips and helped you fall backwards onto the long loveseat behind you, quickly following suit, kneeling in between your thighs to keep your legs spread for him. He ran his tip through your dripping folds, watching you whine and flinch at the sensation, trying to drive him into action,
"What's the second way to let people know I'm all yours?" Kendall watched your chest rise and fall as you panted out the words, so sensitive from being brought to the edge that his teasing had you writhing around underneath him. Grinning like a devil he finally lined himself up with your entrance, waiting until he spoke to buck his hips harshly into you.
"To get you pregnant. Fuck!" He cried out as slammed his hips against yours, hitting the spot deep inside you that had you arching your back and crying out in agreement. "You'd like that wouldn't you. For everyone to know how well you take my dick. How full I get you."
"Yes daddy," You moaned, overwhelmed by his relentless pace as he fucked hard and fast into you, his hands running over your stomach until they reach your bouncing chest. His hands cupped your breasts, fingertips teasing your nipples as he stared down at you, completely dominating your body.
"Everyone would be able to see these get bigger, and I bet they'd get so sensitive I could have you in tears just playing with your nipples. We can practice you having my lips on them all day until you've soaked through every set of fucking lingerie I've ever bought you." He could see the wide desperation in your eyes as your pleasure climbed again, every pinch and thrust setting every cell in your body alight.
"I'm so close, please." You cried out, volume almost a scream as you begged for your release, Kendall's own thrusts losing rhythm as he fought to make this moment last forever.
"You want me to cum in you? You want me to fill you up and make you lie here until your carrying my seed? Until it's clear to everyone that you're mine forever?" His questions were all but drowned out by the chanting yeses that spill from your lips as your walls clenched around him and your body started to shake with your release.
"Yes Ken, I'm yours forever." You managed to breathe out as the waves of pleasure washed over you, amplified by the incredibly feeling of him spilling inside you, the warmth deep in your abdomen somehow more intense than usual knowing that Kendall's breeding kink had been fully awakened, and he wouldn't satisfied until he'd filled you with as much of him as you could take.
Leaning forward his elbows settled either side of your head, lips meeting yours for a sweet kiss as he repeated the words, "Mine. Forever."
"All yours love." You echoed softly, the devotion in his eye clear as his lips returned to yours again and again, drinking in the sweet taste of your affections.
"You know we're not leaving this room until you're so full of my cum, it's dripping out of you, right?"
588 notes · View notes
nevernonline · 5 months
Text
✧.* something borrowed; jww
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis: planning events for your best friends wedding should be fun, until your old feelings for her fiancé resurface.
paring: wonwoo x fem! reader. (bestie jihoon)
genre/s: smut, f2l (kind of?)
warning/s: mentions of cheating, female genitalia, swearing, some mentions of alcohol
word count: 3.2k
note/s: just feeling v inspired by all my fav 90 minute movies lmao. def unedited sorry !! lmao. not much just wonwoo forever!!
Tumblr media
Y/N and Annie were always friends, best friends actually. Even when y/n was away at university half way across the country and Annie was at hers they found ways to always meet each other on holidays. 
It was New Years Eve, their senior year of college. Annie was basically begging her friend for a chance to meet a hot guy at her campus to take out for a midnight kiss at a party. 
Y/n hadn’t known many guys she’d consider to be her friend's type, well other than her own crush Wonwoo. 
Wonwoo was in her major, a tall reserved nice guy, who at first glance most girls would just pass off as another business major. But, behind the rims of his various glasses, he was soft and handsome. Y/n always knew her dream was to find a way to get him to ask her out or maybe muster up enough courage to do it on her own. 
“Y/n you must know at least like two hot guys, this is a fancy ass stuffy uni. I saw at least five at the coffee shop this morning.” 
“I mean, if you’re into that. Sure. Maybe you should’ve asked one of them.” 
“What about you? Don’t you want your final college new years experience to be full of fireworks?” 
“Technically it already will be. Fireworks are kind of the thing on new years.” 
“Ha-ha, funny.” 
Taking a spot on the bench outside of your dorm, Annie was scoping the area for two handsome enough men to ask out for the night. 
“Them.” 
“What? Them?” 
A wave came from across the quad as Wonwoo and his friend Woozi approached y/n’s familiar face. 
“You know them? They’re perfect, why are you hiding them on me?” 
“Oh, well they don’t really party. Either of them actually, more like video games and take out types.” 
“Come on, don’t lie to me.” 
“I’m dead serious. I’ve seen them drink probably once?” 
“That’ll change, watch.” 
The boys finally reached their destination, standing in front of you and your friend who was twirling her pink bubble gum around her manicured finger. 
“Hey, y/n” 
“Hi guys, what are you up to-“ 
“Y/n aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?” 
“I was getting to that, yes. Annie, this is Wonwoo and Woozi, Wonwoo, Woozi this is Annie.” 
“Wow, your name is Woozi, that’s interesting. What does it mean.?”
She had it all wrong, she assumed Woozi was Wonwoo and vice versa, but seeing the two guys laugh a little at her attempt to flirt was some sort of win for you all on its own. 
“Uh, actually I’m Wonwoo, this is Woozi.” 
“Jihoon actually, Woozi’s a nickname.” 
“Oh so cool, so Wonwoo and Jiwoozi, what are your plans for the night?” 
You noticed Jihoon’s expression changed when he realized Annie was only interested in talking to them because she wanted a chance with his friend.
“Annie, they’re probably busy.” 
“No actually, we got invited to a party at Gillies Bar, Seungkwan must have told you about it?” 
“Yeah, y/n. Come on, let’s go with them.” 
Annie knew you had kept the party a secret from her, she was unsure why since it was a tradition for you.
“We can pick you guys up at y/n’s room around 8? If that’s cool.” 
“That’s amazing, see you later tonight.” 
Annie blew a kiss to the tall male and pulled you along to your dorm.
“Why didn’t you tell me about them?” 
“Like I said they’re normally busy and not into parties.” 
“If you like Wonwoo you can tell me. I won’t go for him.” 
“Oh, no it’s fine. We’re just friends.” 
“Alright, amazing. His friend is handsome too you know, maybe you should go for him. He’s more your style, subtle, you know?” 
“Right.” 
Sitting on the semi lofted bed, covered in your favorite throw blanket you sat and watched Annie try to find the perfect outfit rifling through your mountain of clothes. 
“Oh my god, I love this top. Can I wear it? Or do you want to wear it? I mean red goes way better with my skin tone, but it would look nice on your body.” 
“You’re good, I’m going to just wear whatever.” 
“No way, you have to wear something hot. Empress Jiwoozi or whatever.” 
“Jihoon.” 
“Yes, him. Let me help you.” 
“I don’t need help. I have something in mind.” 
“Aw, my girl is all grown up.” 
Something about that night changed the trajectory or your plan, well the plan you had made up in your head about how your life would turn out. Maybe if you were just honest about your feelings for Wonwoo yourself you’d never be in the position of being the maid of honor in their wedding party. 
You were happy planning their engagement party, but you couldn’t help but feel delusional almost like you were planning your own party for yourself and Wonwoo.
The night was perfect, white lilies, a champagne fountain, everyone dressed in black and white to leave room for the future bride and groom to be dressed to the nines, when it was over you were left alone with the catering team cleaning up. 
That was until Wonwoo came back through the front door of the restaurant. 
“Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you guys went home.” 
“We did, but Annie was freaking out. She told me she left her bag somewhere.” 
“The red Gucci?” 
“Yeah, red something.” 
“It’s here. I found it a while ago, I was going to call and drop it off but her phone was inside.” 
“Oh, you could’ve called me.” 
“I didn’t even think of that, well here you go.” 
“Y/n, want me to help you clean up? It’s late, there's so much to do.” 
“Doesn’t Annie need her purse?” 
“She can wait a few more hours, it’s alright. I’ll message her on Instagram, maybe she has her computer open.” 
“Alright, sure.” 
“Want another drink while we work?” 
“I have an open bottle of beer behind you, catch up.” 
Wonwoo and you spent a little over an hour finishing your cleaning duties and escaping the restaurant with two stolen bottles of champagne wrapped in brown take out bags, and started walking to your apartment just five blocks away. 
“So, you never told me you were such a good party planner.” 
“That’s because you never partied until you met Annie.” 
“I still don’t like it to be honest. She drags me out most of the time. You never seemed like the party type either. Except for that one time you were singing karaoke at that weird frat party when I met you. What was it? Living on a Prayer?” 
“Please don’t bring that up, I’m pretty sure I exclusively remember flashing my underwear to everyone.” 
“You did, I remember it well.” 
“Ew.” 
“No, not like that weirdo. You were just funny that’s all, everyone was so shocked that the perfect student y/n was also a grade a flasher.” 
“It was clearly an accident, hence why I do not wear skirts anymore.” 
“You should. You looked nice.” 
“Okay, what about you? That same night you threw up in the Kim kids room when you were making out with some girl.” 
“That’s not at all what happened.” 
“Oh really?” 
“Yeah, I was actually trying to take a break from the party and some girl followed me into his room and tried to kiss me, but vomit saved the day.” 
Laughing with Wonwoo talking about just five years before you were here today, you stumbled up to your stoop attempting to bid him goodnight. 
“Actually, do you mind if I use the bathroom, please.” 
“No it’s alright, come on.” 
While Wonwoo relieved himself in your bathroom, you quickly changed into your pajamas and slippers, needing relief from your heels and buttoned up pants. Not realizing you left your bra resting on the back of your couch. 
“Thank you. Oh- you’re ready for bed? I should head out.” 
“You left your fly undone.” 
“Shit. Actually, do you mind if I just sleep on your couch? My phone died and I don’t have my wallet to get an Uber?” 
“That’s fine, yeah.” 
“Cool, thank you y/n.” 
“Since you’re staying, do you want some hot chocolate or something? I need to have it before I go to bed, especially after drinking.” 
“Yeah, I would love some.” 
You sauntered into your kitchen, still in view of Wonwoo sitting in his sweater and nice tailored pants on your couch, warming up the two cups of hot milk before dumping the chocolate powder and mini marshmallows on top of the warm liquid. 
“Here you are.” 
“This smells amazing, thank you. I miss having you make hot cocoa for me and woozi when we would all game at night.” 
“How is Jihoon? I haven’t seen him in so long.” 
“He’s good. He was supposed to come tonight, but got stuck at work. He wanted to see you.” 
“Speaking of gaming by the way, we could play if you want?” 
“Are you serious? Annie gets so mad at me when I game at night and don’t come to bed with her.” 
“Well she isn’t here so come on.” 
“You’re going down, y/l/n.” 
“Okay, Jeon.” 
Wonwoo and you played various games over the next course of two hours, celebrating you beating him and when he would beat you, just laughing and enjoying your time together over two cups of cold chocolate. 
“Oh my god, you’ve gotten worse. I’ve never beaten you in Mario kart before.” 
“You cheated.” 
“How the fuck could I cheat? You cheated.” 
“Wait. You have chocolate on your lip. May I?” 
“Yeah, sure. Thank you.” 
Wonwoo’s finger gazed over your top lip, rubbing at the small chocolate stain slightly. Looking into his eyes you missed feeling this close to him and that your friend had gotten what you always wanted, like she always did. 
You inched closer and closer slowly into his touch and his lips before they crashed into him. 
Kissing Wonwoo was a dream you had for years before he had ever gotten with Annie, it made sense. 
“Fuck. I’m so sorry, holy shit. Okay, I’m going to go to bed, sleep well and uh- yeah, night.” 
“Wait, y/n. Stop. It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay. You’re engaged to my friend, I crossed a huge line.” 
“Can I tell you something bad? Well something I know? Annie has been cheating on me for years, with this guy she works with at her firm. I found his boxers in the laundry and I know they don’t belong to me because I’ve worn the same brand of underwear since high school. I looked on her phone and she has texts and calls from a person whose name is just a heart emoji. I don’t want you to think I’m just using you to get back at her, because if I’m honest I always loved you or liked you or whatever. I’ve wanted a chance to break up with her for a long time, but I keep letting her tell me what to do.” 
“She’s cheating on you?” 
“Yeah, it’s been going on for a long time I think.” 
“What the fuck, but you kissing me now doesn’t make up for that you can’t just get back at her with me and then stay with her.” 
“I don’t want that. I want to be with you. I always wanted to be with you.” 
“I want that too, but you have to break it off with her now. You guys got engaged, you’re going to get married.” 
“I’ll go now. I’m serious. I’ll come back tomorrow to see you, just wait for me?” 
“What do you think I’ve been doing for the last five years?” 
“Okay, just give me time to break it off with her.” 
“Okay.” 
It was safe to say you didn’t get that much sleep that night, but when the sun came back you were startled by a furious knocking on your door. 
Running to open it and hear how it all went down you expected Wonwoo to be on the other side of the door, but it was Annie. 
“What are you doing here?” 
“He broke up with me. Me! He said he found out I was cheating on him and I mean I did, but we’re human and mammals and we all cheat no?” 
“Wait, what happened?” 
“Wonwoo. Broke up. With me. He was supposed to run out and grab my purse from the restaurant and come right home, but he didn’t so I just assumed he was out with Jiwoozi or something drinking. But he never came home, until a few hours ago anyway. He told me he knows about my affair and he’s in love with someone else? Like what the fuck.” 
“Well I mean you can’t blame him, Annie. You did just admit you cheated on him.” 
“You’re not seriously taking his side are you?” 
“I’m just saying you can’t expect him to just not care. You guys are engaged, it's not like you just started dating.” 
“Oh come on. He’s so boring you know that, he’s either working all the time or playing childish games with his friends.” 
“So him not cheating on you or caring that you cheated makes him boring?” 
“Yes, I mean he has no fun. Ever. And when he was breaking up-“ 
Annie paused and looked at the jacket hanging by your door, she knew who it belonged to and her rage set off like a rocket. 
“Is that his coat?” 
“Oh yeah, I found it in the restaurant last night. He must have forgotten it.” 
“No. He was wearing it when he left to go find my bag. He was here.” 
“Well.” 
“Well nothing. You’re taking his side because you’re the bitch he’s in love with right? Aw. Poor little y/n always losing to me and then trying to take my sloppy seconds. That’s so sad.” 
“What the hell is wrong with you? You have literally zero empathy for anybody else if they don’t fucking fall at your feet and feel bad for you.” 
“So he was here?” 
“Yes. He said we just talked about your infidelity and had hot chocolate.” 
“Did you fuck him?” 
“No.”
“Hah. So you’re the bitch he’s in love with. Well you’re perfect for each other. You’re a bunch of clowns. I’m fucking done.” 
“Good. Get the fuck out of my apartment.” 
Annie opened the door prepared to make a run out of your apartment building but when she opened it Wonwoo was standing on the other side of the door, just listening to the intense conversation you were having. 
“Oh, of course you’re here.” 
“I came to tell y/n I broke up with you.” 
“Why? So you can be together finally? Have boring fucking kids and a boring fucking life together?” 
“No, so I can finally be with someone who understands me for who I am and doesn’t take advantage of me.” 
“God that’s rich.” 
“Yeah, I am. Now can you get the fuck out of the way so I can go inside and see my girl.” 
“God. Fuck you both.” 
Wonwoo walked past the girl who broke his heart into the arms of the girl who can piece it back together and slammed the door on his way in.
“Well.” 
“I'm sorry she freaked out on you, y/n.” 
“I’m not. She doesn’t get to speak to people that way especially when she’s a hypocrite.” 
“That’s true. Come here.” 
Wonwoo’s arms wrapped around your frame and pulled you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling you into a long kiss. 
The kiss had deepened into Wonwoo placing you on the edge of your bed and slowly unbuttoning your green pajama top, which revealed your soft skin underneath, he took his hands and placed them behind your head kissing you once again, trailing his lips from yours, to your neck, and down in between your breasts. 
You felt the need for more connection, something further. Maybe it was the adrenaline running through your body from having him this close to you, being this exposed to him for the first time. Maybe it was the fact you just blindsided someone you thought was your friend, but truly was the one holding you back and making you small. Maybe it was a little bit of both. 
You pushed yourself back on your bed towards your pillows and pulled his much larger frame on top of your half naked one, tugging away at the front of his sweatpants, trying to weave your hands around his dick. 
He swiftly pulled off his shirt now chest to chest with your bare skin. Still running your hands through his hair. 
It was quick and magical. Sending shockwaves down to your still clothed bottom region. 
Wonwoo tugged your pajama bottoms down your thighs to your ankles, still leaving the small piece of fabric covering your pussy. 
His fingers rubbed circles around your clothes clit, adding friction to the feeling and making it much harder to keep whatever cool you had left. 
He pulled his own pants off now, rubbing his clothed hard on on your thighs back to that center spot, working his lips around your hard nipples. 
Finally inching your panties down the same way he did your pants before, pressing his pointed finger near the spot for entrance, teasing you further.
You pressed your hips into his hand, forcing his fingers to enter you further and began fucking yourself on his fingers, while he nipped at the skin on your neck. 
Through the top of his boxers the top of his penis was peaking through begging for your fingers to be wrapped around it or even better your pussy. 
His precum was slipping out, making its way onto your mattress, waisting away as you contributed you ride your high against his long fingers. 
Wonwoo removed himself from your neck for a singular moment to pull the long friend from his pants and tease your hole, rubbing the tip of his penis from top to bottom, pretending he couldn’t find the spot to enter in. 
Finally euphora found you, as he slowly entered inside of you, pushing your legs further towards your head getting a good look at the girl he’s loved forever as he thrusted hard into her center. 
His balls were clapping up against the back end of your ass as the high you were riding starting stirring in your stomach, you knew you were reaching the moment of relief as he fucked you harder and faster. 
A sudden burst of cum whipped out of you all over his pelvis, and you watched as he smiled brightly proud of his work. 
He came down on top of you, pressing you legs closer together so he could get a tighter fuck as he rode out his final moments being inside you for the first time. 
Just before he finished he prompted you to sit up and opened your mouth wide with his fingers, lining up his perfectly pink throbbing penis with your mouth, pumping it with his hands until he reached his moment, filling you up and watching the smallest amount dribble down your chin. 
Going in for one final kiss, a long one, he smiled into it. It was less fierce and feral than the ones before and more sweet and loving. 
“I’m glad I finally got what I deserved.” 
“Mmm, me too.” 
298 notes · View notes
frenchkisstheabyss · 4 months
Text
฿ⱠɄɆ ₥Ø₦Đ₳Ɏ
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
୨୧ Pairing: assassin!soobin x assassin!chubby!fem!reader
୨୧ Genre: crime au/angst/smut
୨୧ Summary: Carrying a hit out on a corrupt politician at the charity event of the year might seem extreme to most women but it's a regular Friday night for you. Things like this should go smoothly, only tonight you're not the only one on the hunt.
Someone's out to get you too. Someone who knows your every move as if they were his own. But can he actually go through with killing you or will feelings from the past cause him to abandon his mission altogether?
୨୧ Word Count: 2.8k
Tumblr media
୨୧ Warnings: you're an assassin so, ya know, guns/knives/mentions of assassinations but no actual deaths, fingering, marking, a lil bit of roughness, unprotected sex, for sure praise kink vibes, pet names (baby), and i'm pretty sure that's all.
୨୧ A/N: I'm dedicating this fic to @anyamaris who's honestly the entire reason that I wrote this to begin with. I've never met anyone who cares so deeply about what it is that other people want so here's something that's all about you because you deserve that and so much more. I hope my silly lil angsty assassin low key rom com smut makes you smile 💜
Tumblr media
An $11,000 crystal chandelier hangs high above your head, casting a soft copper glow across the dim ballroom. Three others like it are positioned a few feet apart, framing a painting on the ceiling worth more than the four of them combined. No one raises their head to admire the beauty that the mayor’s dirty money went into crafting. They’re too distracted by the action on the floor. Champagne towers, a gorgeous woman singing atop a grand piano, mistresses in tight dresses, and business. Of course, the business. That’s what they’re really here for.
Everyone thinks that last week’s charity ball, full of senators dining with their families and taking photos with less fortunate children, was where the fate of the city was decided. But no, it’s here, in dark corners with men whose faces you’ll never see in the daylight, that corruption thrives and fates are truly decided. It turns your stomach to be here arm in arm with the Chief District Judge, smiling and nodding at every misogynistic comment he makes about the way you look tonight.
He picked it out for you, this curve hugging black dress with a slit high enough to let his mind wander to places you wish it wouldn’t. It makes you wish that he were your target for tonight but, no, instead it’s the senator halfway across the room shaking hands with old friends while his companion gets drunk enough to pretend she’s actually attracted to him. You need to get him alone but the bastard’s never alone. They should’ve just let you snipe him, quick and clean.
Your boss insisted upon something intimate though. Something sure and nothing's surer than confirming a kill with your own two eyes. Studying his movements, you’re caught off guard by a familiar scent. Cologne, powdery with notes of citrus. It brings you back to a time before all of this when you were a petty thief living in your little hole in the wall apartment with—
“Walk away” a passing voice whispers, marrying with the scent of the cologne like two pieces of the same puzzle. “It can’t be” you gasp, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. Turning your head, you catch a glimpse of a ghost from your past shifting through the crowd. Soobin. Tall, handsome, and impossible to take your eyes off of. Your palms begin to sweat, making the neck of the champagne glass slippery in your hand.
“What did you say, dear?” the Chief District Judge asks, placing his hand on yours. You smile, innocently sipping your champagne, “If you’ll excuse me a moment, I need to go to the little girl’s room.” “Oh, of course, but hurry back to me. Wouldn’t want another man to snatch you up now, would I?” “You’re so silly,” you giggle, “I’m all yours.” Sitting your glass down, you summon all of your nerves and make your way toward the stairs that lead to the second floor.
Your date’s gaze is burning through your dress, enjoying the way the fabric moves against your body as you advance the stairs. It’d make you want to crawl out of your skin if your attention wasn’t still glued on Soobin. He watches you from the bar and, even at this distance, you catch yourself drowning in the pools of chestnut he calls eyes. It’s been an eternity since you’ve seen him in a suit, long enough that you’d forgotten how elegant he looks in one.
Your brain’s wracked with questions. What’s he doing here? Is he on the same job? Why’s he telling you to walk away? Making a quick left turn, you dip into the bathroom and rush into one of the stalls to gather yourself. You take a deep breath, peeking beneath the other stalls to be sure you don’t have company. All clear. “Just relax, okay? Don’t let him throw you off your game. You will finish this. Pretend he isn’t even here. He doesn’t even exist.”
The bathroom door swings open, and a pair of black laced Prada Oxfords step inside. “Baby?” Soobin sings, locking the door behind him. Staring straight ahead he sees nothing. Only polished marble sinks and spotless mirrors reflecting a motionless row of stalls. “I know you’re in here,” he says, quietly pushing open the door to the nearest stall. Empty. “So why don’t you just come out?” Kicking off your heels, you retrieve the knife tucked into your garter. At the same time, Soobin slips out the gun hidden beneath his suit jacket.
He pushes open the door to the second stall and the auto sensor flushes the toilet, giving you both a miniature heart attack. Soobin laughs, moving on to the next stall, “And what’s behind door number 3?” The door flies open and out you come, the tip of your blade slicing through the arm of his jacket. Soobin spins you off in the direction of the sink but catches you before your lower back hits the edge. 
“Why do you have a knife?” 
“Why do you have a gun?” 
“That’s fair.” 
Kneeing him in the stomach, you wrap your arm around his and struggle to grab hold of the gun. “Stop it!” he demands, gripping you by the back of your dress and tossing you back into the stall you came out of. Regaining your footing, you move to charge back at him but the barrel of his gun’s already aimed at your kneecaps. “Shit,” you mumble, pissed at yourself for not having moved quicker, “What do you want?”
“Walk away” he answers. The same words he whispered to you moments ago, only there’s a nearly undetectable drop of sadness in them now that he has to face you. You still look like the picture of you he keeps in his phone. A few years older, a few more kills to your name, but a dream to behold nonetheless. 
“You know I can’t do that. I have a job to do.”
“So do I but I don’t wanna do it” he begs, the sadness in his voice growing heavier, “Please don’t make me do it.”
He aims the barrel at your chest and he might as well pull the trigger because the pain that penetrates your heart makes you want to fold over. You’d expected that someday someone would be sent to stop you but him? Being assigned to different agencies had done a lot to tear you apart but your love for him never changed. Maybe you’d been foolish to think that he would feel the same. “Me? You took a job to kill me?”
“I had no choice. It’s nothing personal.” “Nothing personal?” you shout, the hurt quickly turning to anger, “Bullshit. So, if I don’t agree to walk away, you pull the trigger, is that right?” Soobin’s shoulders drop, his head turning away from you, “That’s right.” “Then pull the trigger,” you say, stepping forward so that it’s pressed to your chest. Soobin turns back to you, his face twisted in a scowl, “Don’t say that.” Your heart’s racing a mile a minute and the handle of your blade’s clenched so tightly in your fist that it’s creating an imprint on your palm.
You don’t want to die but if you don’t finish this your boss will kill you anyway. “Pull the trigger” you repeat, searching his eyes for any sign of the man who used to hold you on dark nights when the world felt too scary to face. Soobin was once your protector. He wishes that he still could be. He wants to be. Why’d you have to follow him into this world? He left you behind to give you a chance at something normal with someone normal. Why couldn’t you just walk away? Why can’t you now?
“You’re so damn stubborn,” he groans, fighting his body’s urge to become a jittery mess. You crack a teary eyed smile, “You used to love that about me.” It’s ever present in his mind that if he doesn’t do this he’ll have hell to pay. He can’t just let you go. He can’t but...shit, he has to. He lowers his gun, sliding open the magazine and emptying the bullets onto the floor. Nothing in this world could ever make him hurt you. Anyone else wouldn’t have made it up those stairs alive. You, though, are untouchable.
Soobin walks over to the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. What he’s just done is a death sentence. The price on your head has just transferred onto his. It’s only a matter of hours, two or maybe three, before he’s blacklisted. “Soob,” you say, placing your knife down on the sink, “You still care.” He glances at you in the mirror, amazed at how such an intelligent woman can be this clueless. “I never stopped caring. I don’t think I can. I probably won’t stop loving you until—” You take his hand, stroking his fingers, “Stay with me. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
He gently squeezes your hand, a quiet acknowledgment of your attempt to comfort him. “It’s better for you without me here.” “Just like your note said before” you sigh, pulling your hand back. It’s deja vu. He’s pushing you away like he always has. Last time you fought your hardest to keep him but not this time. “You love me” you scoff, making your way back into the stall to collect your things, “But I’m still not enough for you to stay. Not even when your life depends on it.”
Reaching down to slip one of your heels back on, you feel a set of arms around your waist. They embrace you firmly enough to keep you close and softly enough to communicate that there’s nothing to fear. You turn in time to be kissed with such passion that you forget these are the lips of the man sent to kill you. None of that means anything. You only care that they’re on yours, his hands hungrily gripping at your hips…your thighs…your ass…any part of you he can reach.
There are no fireworks between you. The need that’s built up for you both is too strong to reduce to technicolored sparks in the night sky. This is an atomic bomb. A force strong enough to wreck you and you welcome it with open arms. Soobin can’t steal his mouth away from yours, he’s glued to you. “You’re more than enough” he promises, backing you against the wall, “So much more.” “Then why do you run away?” you ask, tearing his jacket even more as you help him out of it. He lifts your dress, letting his palm skim the lace of your panties. “I’m no good for you.”
Ripping his shirt open, you send buttons clinking to the ground where the bullets lay. You touch his chest and feel his body tense as you tease your way down to his belt. “I never asked you to be good for me. Be bad for me” you whine, squeezing your thighs to get the friction you find yourself growing desperate for. Flipping you around, he slaps your ass just the way you like. You arch your back as his thumb tucks your panties to the side, his middle and pointer fingers pushing into you.
In the quiet of the empty bathroom, all he can hear are your low sweet, moans and the splashing of your juices each time his fingers curl into your core. “You feel so good on my fingers, baby. Just dripping for me” he growls, his other hand coming around your neck to bring you closer to him. Your nails claw at the wall, the feeling of being pressed against it as his fingers fuck deeper into you intense enough to make you want to climb it.
Reaching back, you knot your fingers into his hair, pulling at it each time he hits your sweet spot. “One more” you moan, grinding back against his hand. “One more? You sure you can take it?” You nod, feeling a third finger brush your inner thigh, “I can take it, mmm, oh god.” His third finger slides into you slowly, his wrist rotating to stimulate you from every angle. “That’s it, baby. Take it for me. You like it when I fill you up with my fingers?” “Yes, I…I love it. So good. So—”
The door to the bathroom jiggles and you both freeze completely. At least you do. Soobin’s still except his fingers which remain inside of you, moving at a tortourlsy slow pace. The door jiggles again and there’s the low chattering of a group of women.
“Cut it out. What if they get in?” you whisper, turning to stop him. Soobin smiles down at you, sweeping you into another kiss, “So what if they get in?” Hooking his arms behind your legs, he lifts you off of your feet, the tip of his cock flicking at your clit. Your body shivers, making enough sound to give pause to the women outside. “You’re terrible” you giggle, reaching between you to stroke his length. You lightly trace the head of his cock with your thumb, guiding him closer and closer to your slit.
Soobin lowers his hips, raising them to thrust into you a little at a time until you’re writhing on his cock, too full to know what to do with yourself. Catching you staring up at him, your eyes sparkling like stars, makes the air feel thinner. It’s like he’s somewhere high up, climbing a mountain and losing air the higher he goes but he can’t stop. The way you make him feel, he can’t let go of it. Reaching up to cup his face, you plant kisses on his bare chest, choking back moans. “You’re perfect,” you say, meaning it with all your heart.
Soobin shakes his head, spreading your legs wider, “Not as perfect as you. Never as perfect as you.” The noise outside of the door quiets as the women give up, heading off in search of another bathroom. Soobin wastes no time thrusting into you, gripping your thighs hard enough to mark you. “Fuck, yes, just like that, ah!” Your lids fall closed and maybe Soobin was right, there must be stars in your eyes because they’re all you see in the darkness. “You’re so tight for me. So warm. I want you to cum for me” he whispers, pushing in deeper and holding you there. “Cum for me and don’t hold back.”
Grinding you onto him, he can feel every part of you and you feel every part of him. The twitching of every vein traveling up his length in response to the clenching of your walls. You’re the cutest thing, your body shivering, pillowy tits bouncing, filling the bathroom with incoherent moans. It’s almost as if he has you wrapped around his finger, something like a rubber band, twisted around and around until you’re pushed so far beyond your limits that you’re about to snap. 
“Oh…” is all you get out before you break, grasping at his chest as your senses are overtaken by something too heavenly to fathom. “My little killer” he coos, kissing the last bit of smeared lipstick from your lips, “You’ve always been worth it.” The clock’s ticking on his mission and soon on his life as well. All he wants with whatever precious minutes he has left is to stay in this moment with you but life, as always, has different plans. 
A phone sounds, a wistful ringtone echoing through the bathroom. Opening your eyes, you glance down at the phone peeking out of his jacket pocket. The screen flashes RESTRICTED. “Better get that,” you say, patting him on the arm to let him know it’s okay. Soobin carefully lets your legs down, only reaching for the phone when he’s sure you’re okay. “Hello? Yes. I know, I should’ve reached out sooner. I—” His attention momentarily strays to you gathering bullets from the floor and loading them back into his gun. “Did I handle her? Confirmed. Mission complete.”
Hanging up, he tosses it across the floor and you shoot it. Perfect aim. “They’ll be sending someone to confirm the kill soon,” he says, readjusting his pants to make himself decent, “We should get going.” “We?” you ask, checking to make sure you heard him right. Bundling your things up in his jacket, he approaches you much too happily for such a dire situation. “Yes, we, if you’ll have me.”
You take your heels from him, throwing them back on. “Of course, I will. Just one thing, point another gun at me and I’ll kill you.” Throwing your purse over your shoulder you float over to the bathroom door, still high off of your orgasm, and unlock it. Soobin trails behind you, content to do so for the rest of his life, “Point gun. Die. Noted.”
123 notes · View notes
Text
Hidden Treasure 1
Tumblr media
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: your quiet life is interrupted by a tempestuous man. (reader is Blair from Follow You Anywhere)
Characters: Thor
Note: I just did it, okay?
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
Tumblr media
You lay out the hand-sewn coin purses along the left side of the table, completing the array of your hand-made and repurposed goods. It’s a good day to sell, sunny but not too hot, the early days of spring when people are eager to get out. At least it should be. Despite your selection, you’re not the most personable vendor along the square. 
The last detail is the hand-painted wood sign. You did it yourself; an antique frame you added a gold hue to and filled with a thin sheet of board. It isn’t much but it tells people what they’re looking at; handmade and renewed goods. 
You fold your hands and hover behind your table. You’re a one-person operation. It’s your own table, your own money, your own everything. It brings in enough for you to live. Just you and your cluttered apartment. 
The coin purses and the sleepers you sew by hand are the more popular sellers. Anything for children goes first, you notice. Everyone seems to be having them. The older crowd radiate towards the old candlesticks you polished to a shine or the glass-shaded lamps you tediously re-wired. Most try to haggle but your prices are fair enough. 
You peer around at the produce stands, the soap and candle makers, and the crocheted stuffies of your fellow sellers. You do a bit of window shopping but never follow through on your wandering eyes. You don’t need to waste the money on the pretty new things, you have lots of lovely old things. 
The traffic picks up and you busy yourself with the browsers. A woman with a stroller buys several of the infant dresses and headband, a group of older ladies peruse the aged hardcovers and pick out a few, while a couple comments on the brass-based lamp with the dangling chain. You do your best to smile through the transactions. 
The rises higher in the sky towards its apex. The steady flow keeps you busy, with some time in-between to work on fixing the binding of one of the old editions. You like to keep yourself distracted, thinking can be dangerous. With how much time you spend alone, it’s hard to avoid. 
As you lock up the cash box and tuck it back under the table, a shadow passes over, large than any other. For a moment, you think a cloud’s passing over the sun. You look up at the sky as a broad figure stands across from you.  
You don’t know how you didn’t see the man’s approach. He’s huge. Tall and wide. He doesn’t seem the type to be interested in your selection. Still, he leans in to eye the embroidered coin purses and gives a rumbling hum that sounds like distant thunder. 
He picks up one with primroses sewn into it. His thick thumb brushes the threaded design and his large hand makes the coin purse look even smaller. You tap your fingers on the table as his eyes flick up and meet yours. 
“Hi, uh, how can I help you?” You whittle out of your tight throat. It’s not often a lone man finds interest in your things. You cater to a more femme audience. 
“This is nice,” he remarks, “do you make these?” 
“Uh, yes, I do,” you give a tight-lipped smile, “I just embroider old used purses.” 
“Just? That’s splendid work,” he brings it closer to his face and looks down his nose at the little flowers and leaves, “my mother would love this... mother’s day is coming, eh?” 
“Oh, um, yes, I suppose,” you agree. “It’s five dollars. Cash only.” 
“Mm,” he traces his thumb over the metal clasp as he taps his back pocket with his other hand, “don’t think I’ve any on me. Could you hold this for me?” He offers the coin purse, “I’ll find the ATM.” 
“Sure, I could do that.” 
You take the coin purse, fingers brushing his rough skin, and you set it aside. 
“Thank you,” he smiles broadly, blue eyes twinkling as lines creases around them and across his forehead. 
He reluctantly trails away and you watch him go. His golden hair is longer than most, twisted into a low bun behind his hand as a few strands dangle freely around his face. He wears a denim jacket over dark red tee and grey jeans, along with a pair of scuffed brown boots. He stands out even in his casual attire. 
You shrug off the encounter and turn to your next customers. More baby clothes. The women chat about a baby show and you point them to the newborn sizes, telling them about the fabrics you use for each. They buy a few bibs along with the sleepers and diaper covers. 
You back up and sit in the folding chair, drinking deeply from your bottle of water. You don’t know if it’s the interactions or the sun making you dizzy. It’s close to noon. You always start to feel it around this time.  
The hours surrounded by strange faces and buzzing voices are clustering in your head and chest. Only a little longer; the market only runs until two. If the world didn’t require money to survive, you might never leave your apartment. Yet your table is the only means you have to keep walls around you. 
You sit a bit longer and get up again. You’re okay. You should’ve eaten before you left the apartment. How silly of you to forget the overnight oats you had put in the fridge just the night before. You do forget quite a few things. 
The market thrums with the late morning rush and you brace yourself for the final stretch. If you can clear off half the table, you might not have to come back next weekend. You’d be all too content to stay in your own little world, the one beyond is too loud and too bright. 
🕰️
You fold your table up and push the hook around the peg to keep it shut. You fold up the chair as well and lean both with your boxes. As the market clears out, you pull up your small two-door and load your wares into the back hatch. 
You peer over at the other vendors and their vans and trucks. Crews of half a dozen or more pack away goods and chatter just as loud as the previous crowds. It’s an isolating moment. You don’t mind going unnoticed but sometimes you feel so small. 
As you put a box in the back of the car, your keys slip off your finger. You bend and feel around the tire to retrieve them and sense a shadow above you. You clasp your hand around the keyring and stand-up suddenly, turning to face the figure behind you. There’s no one there. 
You peer around but find nothing out of the ordinary. You return to your task and pause. You don’t remember putting that box away yet... 
You shake your head. You’re just tired and forgetful. Your cardinal vices. Your mind wanders too much to rest, too much to keep order. 
You put the last box away and close the hatch. You get in the driver’s seat and turn the engine. It putters softly but it runs well enough. The old car has gotten you through the years just fine. There was a time that tiny thing was your home. 
You pull away down the lane parallel to the edge of the market square and pull out into traffic. You drive without seeing, led by habit as you stop at signs along the way, turning around corners mindlessly. You stop and wait to pull into your building’s lot and notice the large storm grey jeep behind you. It strikes you as peculiar; you enter from a back street to avoid the rush. 
You steer into the lot and the jeep continues down the street past the building. You forget it as quickly as it rolls beyond the faded brick. You find your spot, parking pass dangling from the mirror, and shut off the engine. You linger and take a breath. You're hungry and tired. 
You leave your things in the car and go upstairs. You slow as you pass your neighbour’s door. You saw her yesterday, she was in trouble about something. The police came as she hid from her boyfriend in your apartment. You didn’t even know she had one. You tried not to be nosy but she seemed real upset. 
Your cheeks tinge as you stare at the numbers on her door. She’s the only person who’s ever been inside your apartment. You don’t welcome people in, not into your home or your life. You hadn’t meant to let her in but you were so tired and confused, you couldn’t stop her. 
You cringe and continue down to your door with one last glance over your shoulder. You put the key in the slot and turn with a grind. You scurry inside and quickly lock the door, afraid she might once more emerge and follow you inside. Or that man, the big one with the beard. 
You twist the latch back into place and put your keys in the tray on the cramped shelf. The apartment is dark, the windows shrouded in black fabric, and you flip on the overhead light to guide you down the hallway. The walls are made tighter as their lined with endless shelves and tables, all filled with your collection of curiosities. 
You go to the fridge and take out the mason jar of steeped oats. You sit and eat the soft, pasty oats and the berries. You didn’t add enough cinnamon. It doesn’t matter, your stomach greedily mulches it. You put the kettle on and wait for it to steam. 
As you pace around, you hear a loud rumble. An engine. You don’t think much of it but you go to the window to peek out around the dark fabric. A woman walks a large dog past a grey jeep parked along the curb. Is it the same one you saw before? 
The question doesn’t pique your mind much. That’s the way of the world, you find. It’s a lot smaller than it seems, yet to you, it’s inexorably vast. It’s too fast, too unpredictable. You retreat as the kettle whistles. 
Your apartment is small and warm and safe. The world can’t follow you back here. Not if you don’t let it in and you won’t be doing that again. 
-🕰️
You decide, against your better instincts, to go to market. The weather is nice and it wouldn’t be so bad add a few extra bucks to your nest egg. You never know what might come up, or what you might find! Too many times you stumbled upon an antique you just couldn’t afford. 
You go through your usual ritual. You set up the table and the chair, and arrange your things in the same way around the wooden sign. As you put your boxes to the side, you hear a rattle at the bottom of one. You look into the crate and notice the silver ring. How’d that get in there? You didn’t bring any jewelry. 
You put down the box and reach inside. You take out the ring and turn it. You’ve never seen it before. There’s a strange stick symbol on the flat face. Maybe another language or a run of some type. You turn it in your hand and tuck it in your pocket. You’ll have to give a closer look at home. 
It’s early and a few stragglers trickle in, but they all walk by your table without pause. 
You sit and take out the jar of oats. You remembered today. You’d woken up with a hunger so deep, you almost ate before you left. You know better than to eat too early. Instead, you had your tea and got yourself moving. 
You stir the blueberries in and eat slowly, trying to measure your bites so you don’t feel sick after. You watch the other vendors, some still setting up, and lazily swallow down the thick oatmeal. It feels like it might rain after all, there’s a touch of damp in the air. 
You finish up and put the jar away. As you wipe your mouth with your sleeve, a woman’s voice trills and pricks your ears. Silver hair with a few wisps of gold peak out from her silk headscarf. The teal fabric matches the pattern of her blouse, tucking into a finely pressed skirt. She’s not alone, she has her arm hooked through another. 
Her companion is younger than her. His golden hair is pulled half up at the crown of his head as he towers over her lithe frame. You squint, they might be related. As they approach, you get a whiff of deja vu. 
“Yes, it was this one, mother,” the man’s voice is deep. 
“How lovely, look at all these treasures,” she slips her arm free as she approaches, “hello, dear, is this all yours?” 
“Mhmm, yes,” you stand up, “are you looking for something in particular?” 
“I think we’re just browsing,” she smiles brightly, her lips painted a gentle shade of rose. 
“A coin purse,” the man says, “with prim rose? Do you recall?” 
You look at him. Faces aren’t easy for you but his voice strikes something in your mind, and his size. You haven’t seen a lot of men that big, only the one in your neighbour’s apartment. You think you remember holding something but the customer never came back. 
“This one,” you point to the coin purse, set back in the row. 
“Yes, that was me,” he chimes, “mother,” he pulls the primrose purse to the top. She takes it and he looks back to you, “I apologise that I didn’t return, there was an emergency and I had to be off.” 
“It’s okay,” you shrug, folding your hands together. 
The woman is looking at you. There’s something in her gaze that makes you squirm. Her eyes linger just a bit longer before she aims them at the purse, admiring the embroidery as she feels it beneath her thumb. 
“Yes, I do like this one,” she says. 
“I brought cash this time,” the man booms and reaches into his pocket, “five, I believe you said.” 
“Yes,” you accept the bill from him, his skin rough as his fingertips touch yours, “thanks. Erm, did you need a bag?” 
“For this? No,” she wiggles the purse playfully and reaches for the man, her son, with other hand. She caresses his knuckles as she faces him, “you were right. Very beautiful.” 
He smiles broadly, proudly almost. It’s just a purse. You hide your discomfort as you grip your arm at your elbow. 
“Thank you,” the woman chirps back at you, sending another grin in your direction, “you might see us again.” 
She hooks her arm once more through her son’s and leads him to the next booth. You peer after them as her attention clings to the purse as she continues to feel it between her fingers. She leans into his arm as she speaks to him quietly. They seem close, it’s sweet. Your own mother had never been so affectionate. 
You look away before the scene can pluck in your chest. It doesn’t matter. You’re grown up now. That’s all behind you. 
126 notes · View notes
aclowntiny · 8 months
Text
Black Flag, Black Hearts? Falling for Pirate!Ateez (Meeting Pirate!Ateez Part 2- Female Reader)
One (1) request for part 2 was all it was going to take to continue one of my favorite pieces hehe… but I got 2 🥲🥹 hope y’all enjoy this one too! 🏴‍☠️ plenty more where this AU came from 😉
Warnings: suggestive content, a little more gun mention this time, some violence, blood, death implication
☠Hongjoong☠
As breath returned to your body and pain subsided, you were held to no debt. Should have known, really, that the thieves robbing thieves sought not to use a life as a transaction. Legend had gotten the best of you once and you dared not repeat that.
For your own honor, honor far beyond that of the so-called law, it seemed fit for a thanks, though. Fit for some token of gratitude immeasurable, for how does one quantify life? Your tavern was ash beside, so what tether had you to the land? No job, no marriage, not even a debt to escape. Much as you might miss a few polite regulars, it was likely you could disappear unnoticed.
And disappear you did, shoving off with the Eightfold as the new cook. One of the others bore the mantel for some time, bid you share it with him for his own joy, but their captain insisted you were far better suited for it. From what you knew of men, that could easily prove true.
Bringing a woman aboard, necessity though it may have been, proved great fun for the raucous middle-mates, as you called them. Not the youngest, not the eldest, just dreadfully, wonderfully boisterous people the likes of whom always got feet stomping back in the tavern.
And stomp feet they did, insisting you must dance with them after so long a drought of partners to reel or otherwise with atop the waves. You were earning your sea legs, wondering if you might have a tilt akin to theirs at your next port stop, so why not challenge yourself with a dance or three?
Skirts in hand, you circled Mingi, who had laughingly unbuckled his pistol belt at your wary glance. Too many a shot had drunkenly or exuberantly fired into a floorboard or a foot for you not to. The tall gunslinger danced like Old Man Jo's hound dog, unaware of strength that could bowl a woman over, but far too kind to wish that. The pair of you laughed a lot before you were handed off to San, who took you gently by the hands and spun you with delicate care, reminding you more of the sweet childhood cat that used to curl at your side whenever you took ill or cried. What a whirlwind before you, nearly a stitch in your chest, got passed to Wooyoung, who found a nice middle ground between push-and-pull and treating you like glass, but coupled with the unfortunate side effect of being a little handsier than necessary, his grip sliding lower on your hip.
And that, that was when you saw it. Like a shadow, a falcon poised for an elegant, precise swoop, your dance partner's Captain stood glaring, stare intense as every wanted poster that had crossed your path made it out to be. Spine tingling as it was wont to do at that look, you found your attention transfixed upon Hongjoong as he strode up to Wooyoung, authority resounding in each strike of his boots. Wooyoung smiled, somehow half proudly and half sheepishly, a wave crashed, and still glaring Hongjoong gave a jerk of his head and a few quiet words that had his junior scurrying off.
Then he was before you, entire affect altered, face a sole mask of concern. It was as if you peered into completely different eyes. "I told him not to touch you like that," he told you, voice dark only as you'd heard once before, just on that fateful night you thought you'd met your end, "he shouldn't dare."
Serious as the captain sounded, you couldn't help smiling. "Thank you. Don't be too hard on him, though, I've dealt with worse. Think he just forgot himself. Why don't you show him how it's done, then?"
That earned you a slightly cocky grin, that satisfied look you frankly couldn't get enough of. "With pleasure. May I, then?”
His hands hovered until you nodded, then one took yours and the other held your waist, this time far more proper than his predecessor’s hold. You had nothing to compare this dance to, no parallel of memory to the way Hongjoong made you feel.
“This moonlight becomes you,” he remarked quietly, “becomes you far more than galley lamps. You are our Diana then.”
Goddess of the moon. The moon which did hang like a great wide monocular gaze over your dance, the way your hand reflexively tightened over Hongjoong’s shoulder at the return of his honeyed words. “You think so highly of me?” Was all you could ask, surprisement coloring your face and tone alike.
“Suppose I need to get better at showing it,” Hongjoong joked in response, but something stirred in his gaze that confirmed it better than words.
Since that night, Hongjoong spent more time than ever in the galley, playing guessing games with you about your destination and playfully rolling his eyes when you made the man stop and eat something for once.
“What can I say,” you shot back at his teasing smile, “I’m trying to get better at showing it, too.”
☠Seonghwa☠
Your sack was as full of little trinkets-and even a bit of new clothing-as your heart was apprehension. Every thud of your soles upon the planks of the dock, then the ship, echoed beats of your heart. Live on as you may, nothing could have properly prepared you that morning for the fact that there was no return to your old life, that a gentleman claiming to be a pirate would whisk you away to his ship.
Upon setting foot upon the deck, Seonghwa undid your handkerchief, revealing his handsome face as he handed it back, and clapped a hand to the shoulder of another man, this one tall, smiling, and a bit fair.
Said man nodded your way, shocking you with as friendly a smile as you had ever seen. “And who might this be?”
“My name,” you answered, internally cursing the small voice such apprehension had produced, “is (y/n). I took interest in your First Mate’s cartography.”
“She has an interest in all the arts, it seems,” Seonghwa added, a touch of pride coloring his voice, “I saw the way she admired weaving, blown glass…”
The other man tilted his head, still smiling. “Oh, really? Well, have you any skills in its study along with your valuation our captain will take quite a liking to you.” So the ship did not belong to him.
You swallowed, shuffling a bit forward from Seonghwa’s side, feeling the sudden absence of warmth there. “Are you art thieves, then?”
“In a manner of speaking,” another voice rang at your back, several bootfalls following it.
Turning on your heels, skirts swirling about your feet, you were faced with the intense gaze and proud smile of a man in a long, billowing black jacket, a gold pin shining upon its lapel. The designs on his waistcoat were intricate yet sharp, clearly hand-painted. Perhaps he’d stolen that too.
“For what does my First Mate bring you here?” Imposing words, yet with a tone clearly meant to put you at ease.
“For my love of the arts, it seems,” you replied, trying your best to look the man you took to be Captain in the eyes, “my question stands if it may: are you art thieves?”
The captain’s hand fully left his side, dropping your heart at the realization he likely concealed a blade there. “Have you heard what happened to the Egyptians? Their craftsmanship scooped up to line the halls of the rich. The great monarchs of the world with their hoards of untouched advancement? Creations returned to their creators. Wealth in the hands of the poor. Do you call that an art thief?” He looked quite satisfied at the dropping of your jaw.
“I call that right. The- the authorities say you kill and pillage.”
“Of course they do,” Seonghwa chimed in with a snort, “they want you to turn us in, do they not? I beg your pardon, ma’am, but you see why I say stories are to be doubted.”
“I do,” you nodded, “but I am no thief, just an admirer.”
“Could you identify a fake if you laid eyes upon it?”
“A counterfeit?”
“I suppose I could try. My art education is not exactly extensive, but if I cannot return home, at least I can continue it still.”
“Then it is settled. Excellent recruit, Seonghwa,” the Captain said, “go make sure she is comfortable.”
~
“You have so many wonderful things, Seonghwa. Are they gifts?”
The First Mate had led you down a hatch, down a set of stairs into a cozy little wood space that reminded you faintly of a hayloft. There was a bed already, a mattress draped with a quilt bearing some traditional pattern you didn’t quite recognize, likely a gift from travels prior. He helped you set your assortment of glass animals upon the claw-footed chest-of-drawers that sat against the wall across from the bed, even dusting off the looking glass for you. You’d remarked that it was a nice room-a lamp was already set upon the nightstand and a painting on the wall- but a mite lonely, so Seonghwa showed you his quarters across the hall. Jointed figures of wood covered one dresser, several ships in bottles resting in various places upon his bookshelf.
“Some of them, yes. The fine carvings are gifts, the cruder ones my own attempts,” he chuckled, “assembling a ship in a bottle is about all I’m good for.”
“And how does one do that?” You asked.
He’d sat you down on one side of a little table, his seat shuffled right at your side. Bits and pieces of tiny masts and sails were scattered about. You saw a tiny wheel, the smallest seagulls you’d ever laid eyes upon, all resting upon the finely stained wood. Picking up a pair of very long, thin tools, Seonghwa slid the bottle closer between you. “Very carefully.”
His smile made you smile, leaning in to watch him assemble it all. He named every piece of the ship, taught you which was port and starboard, pointed out the carven mermaid figurehead of the ship. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”
“Yes,” you nodded.
“Look closer. She looks a lot like you.”
Your lips parted, failing to form words as heat crept across your cheeks. Suddenly you were quite thankful for the oil lamp’s safe distance from all the wooden bits and bobs. The legends certainly were lies, for never had you felt more comfortable, any safer, than at the table of a pirate.
☠Yunho☠
"Another round, then, on me!" One of the Eight, the one who seemed most worthy of being Captain beside the man in the gold pin himself, called out to the almost creakingly full table, raising his tankard heartily.
"I believe you mean on me, Jongho," you replied, plucking the intricately filigreed mug from his hand and grabbing his neighbor San's too, turning the smooth fired rim in your hand.
Some months ago your inherited estate had been a dull, lonely cave of finery, joy of almost every dress and other beautiful thing you had inherited gone at the loss of family and company that had befallen you alongside it. What care had you for silken curtains hanging in a parlor no one sat in or a grand piano with no audience? Indeed, the sea was your greatest companion, solitude drowned out by whistling wind, crashing waves, and the sensation of feet upon sand. Such forces of nature offered much greater solace from your thoughts than anything of mankind, yet utterly void of their touch.
Now those once-consuming thoughts were but a laughable memory. Raucous song filled your parlor and kegs of ale your cellar lest the Eightfold arrive after a drop at their hollow on your beach, filling their cave with yet another chest of gold and stolen riches before making their way to you, presenting you with beachside finds and the odd gifted artifact, often a figurine for your many surfaces and shadowboxes.
"You're wearing a new dress every time we see you," another pirate, this one by the name of Wooyoung, remarked.
"I was given so many," you replied from your countertop, shrugging as you filled the two mugs.
"And jewelry, no doubt."
"Why," you shot back, reentering the dining room with a careful grip upon the now foam-topped vessels, dodging a flying arm punch between pirates, "do you plan to rob me after all this time?"
"No, I was just wondering why with all you've got you wear those silly shells about your wrist every single day."
As you laid your cargo down your eyes instinctively fell to the string of small orange shells Yunho had made you the day you met, then flicked to the pirate himself. "Perhaps it is important to me," you replied, nose in the air and heart in your throat.
Clearing some plates off the table and straightening the lace runner was supposed to distract you, but of their own accord your eyes fell to Yunho, whose gaze rested solely upon you. Hurrying, you shuffled to the kitchen, setting the plates aside the basin with the rest.
When all was said and done for your meal, you returned to the parlor for song, caring not for whatever sand tracked into the flowered carpet. You could clean. Passing through the doorway, you heard the voices of the young men squabbling over whose turn at the piano it was.
"Let me, please, I've a good one," you heard Yunho request, voice a soft plea to the others' raised bickers, "and I believe I still owe our hostess, all things considered."
"He is right, you know," you chimed in from your lean upon the threshold, arms crossed, “did he tell you the tale?”
"Ha!" Taking the bench and apparently ignoring the nature of the tale, which involved his blade upon your throat, Yunho swatted the two men on either side of him upon the head with the backs of his hands and began to play.
No shock was it for a man with hands like that to be adept at playing the piano. Nor the sweetness of his voice, the likes of which you'd been graced with prior, even if it was chorusing a shanty. The words he sang, however, raised brows.
From a sailor's perspective, the whole of it was a lament of missing a woman while upon the sea, and missing her dearly. Yunho charmed the keys and poured out genuine emotion with every note of his sweet voice, bidding you wonder if he’d had a woman at port the whole time.
Everyone applauded him, naturally, when he finished, but as he rose from the bench and urged Seonghwa forward in his stead, again his eyes fell upon you.
“Who is she, this woman who charms such shanties out of you? Not a pirate queen, it seems?” You inquired, raising an eyebrow and straightening your brooch.
“I plan to make one of her yet. She certainly has no fear of making a mess of herself at the sea’s edge. I’ve never seen a smile like hers, but she’ll set a man straight if she wants to. She flew a kite with me once, and that was how I knew it would be murder stepping off her shores again.”
You’d flown kites together the previous month. He hadn’t one before, yours a gift to him. “Has she any token of her sailor?” You asked, swallowing and taking a step closer, lest you misread the man who’d made you a string of shells, run a hand over it every time you danced- and that was certainly much more than with any other crewmate.
At that, Yunho lifted your hand up by the wrist, presenting those same beads of nature you never had the heart to go without. They were as a sign to you- a sign you were never truly to be without companionship again. His hand held yours so gently, like a gentleman, before he placed a kiss to the back of it.
“From the moment I met her, I knew I couldn’t leave her without her wearing some sign of me. Aren’t I selfish?” He smiled, looking for all the world like a proud, mischievous boy you couldn’t quite bring yourself to discipline. “What a pirate. Even from an apology I seek something for myself.”
“Funny, my pirate is always saying his riches don’t belong to him. Saying things like he and his friends have rebuilt half of Seonghwa’s hometown with the money that had been fattening kings.”
“Your pirate, hm?” Yunho gazed into your eyes, fluttering his lashes as he brought your hand closer, pulling it near his chest, your face warming with the gesture. “I like the sound of that. Do you think of me, then, as I think of you?”
“I feel as though I am counting the days until your return,” you admit with a flush.
“Then let us be as otters on the sea, always holding each other afloat,” Yunho whispered, leaning to press a kiss to your lips, soft, chaste, and yet loving enough to spin your head, “come with me. You are more than a lady at the dock- I would have you by my side.”
☠Yeosang☠
You said yes.
Water lapped at the sides of the boat, swaying it comfortingly. The Captain had looked upon Yeosang with surprise, then some degree of annoyance, as they spoke outside of your earshot, but the moment he dubbed you a jeweler it was all smiles.
You’d have assignments before you knew it, but such would come to pass seemingly ages after the moment’s heaven. Shrugging the covers higher, you shuddered under the chill of untouched silk upon warm skin.
"Cold?" Yeosang slipped a bit closer, a hand running up and down your upper arm.
"Faintly," you replied, lashes fluttering into your gaze upon his visage, obscuring the beautiful candlelit image.
"Well, is it any small wonder? You've no clothes on!"
"I wonder who did that," you teased.
"I wonder," Yeosang repeated, smiling and pressing a kiss to your forehead.
Nestling into the crook of his arm, you chuckled contentedly, gaze briefly flicking up to the crisscrossing of rafters making possible your hazy shelter. Glancing to the side, you caught a faraway look in Yeosang’s eyes as he gazed upon you, one you internally, half-jokingly, hoped was not regret.
“What are you thinking about?” You asked.
He flushed. No getting shy now, you wanted to say.
“I-I was wondering,” he began, trailing off sheepishly.
You loved that about him- such a man, and yet sweet as a lamb. What a wonderful contradiction.
“Yes?” You prompted.
“Now that we are nine,” Yeosang continued, shifting slightly beneath the covers, “will you…will you stay in my quarters?”
It was your turn to feel heat rising to your cheeks. So soon he wished that? Perhaps you should have been scared, but every risk you had taken, even leaving your hometown behind, had done nothing but excite and content you. All you felt was flattered, joyed, satisfied that you truly had made the pirate in the tavern yours.
“If you wish it, I will gladly stay here,” you replied with a smile, voice barely above a whisper.
“Huzzah!” He exclaimed quietly, hands balling into little fists about the sheets as he smiled widely. “It gets lonely in here, you know. But now I have the finest company of all.”
Your heart beat rapidly. “You shall also have the highest traffic- everyone will need the work of the jeweler’s daughter ere we know it,” you teased.
“Well,” Yeosang loosened one of his hands, sliding it beneath both layers of the blankets and sheets to take yours, giving it a squeeze, “that is a hazard I gladly accept.”
☠San☠
"I do care. I care to make new of my life," you told San, "for though you say you are wanted I see nothing but a good man. What place would your crew have for a shoe-shine girl?”
“You, Miss (y/n), are far more than that. The fact that you see the good in others is refreshing alone. Sometimes simplicities like that are forgotten in my line of work. I try to keep to them myself. When I saw you, I saw what I seek to be,” San replied, “if you join my crew, I can promise a home. I can promise adventure. But I cannot promise you freedom from things that could shatter the wonder in your eyes. Piracy is no easy job.”
Perhaps a part of you wanted to hear that word, but still your chest clenched, hand tightening slightly too around the note you held out, wind fluttering your hair. An eerie stillness resided within it, still an absence of passersby. The man before you truly was no ordinary sailor.
“When you say you want to give back to a place like this…” You began, trailing off beneath San’s intense gaze.
“We steal. We do,” San answered matter-of-factly, surely steeled in spite of any fanciful idealism, “but we have plenty. Towns like this? Places where priceless artifacts are stolen as trinkets or spectacles? Some thievery only rights thievery.”
He truly cut a dashing figure, trim and noble and a quiet sort of bold. Folly or not, you believed the man who showed you the kindness of a new life, be it in simple prosperity or adventure. Adventure of spying your first breaching of dolphins or tasting the fruit of a neighboring land, of unlocking some stolen artifact or even fighting burly men off your friend who’d started a barfight. Swinging off a ship’s rope. All the stories San had regaled you with as you shined his boots.
“I want to go with you.”
~
Humanity, not pity, was truly the way of the Eightfold. Not a one treated you like a stray they'd adopted off the streets, not like the people with high noses of your former home. You, rather, were an opportunity.
They all smiled at the way your eyes widened at the boat's rocking. Never had you been adrift before. Two of them climbed you up to the crow's nest and you, fighting off the shudderings of fear at the newfound height, leaned out over the glittering expanse, feeling as a bird or the north wind herself. And sure were they that your greatest skill would be found in no time. You'd offered to swab the deck, but San was insistent you'd done enough cleaning for now.
"We can make Mingi do that," he teased the tall, sharp-eyed marksman who'd surprised you with a boyish love of attention, nodding his way.
"Oi!" Mingi started up after him, pointing at the man who'd helped you decorate your new quarters. "Let Seonghwa keep doing it, he's the only one that likes it."
"I don't like it, I'm the only one who does it right!"
"Boys, boys," the captain held out hands, grinning in amusement, "you'll all have a turn at the deck, don't you worry. As for (y/n), San is right. She's more than earned something new."
'Something new' came in the form of another nerve-wracking crow's nest climb, steep ramps of fear with each hand over the other, and yet such a great reward. Stars now provided shine to the roiling sea, night sky reflecting it an inky black besides.
"Takes my breath away every time," San muttered at your side, looking at the water as if the stars weren't already in his widened eyes.
"I can imagine. Why do we come out here so late, though?"
"'Tis time for sextant training," San replied with a smile.
"Time for what?" You burst out in response, eyes flicking away from his back to the sea-never off the bottom of the crow's nest again, that was a one-time mistake-as your face rapidly warmed.
From your vision's peripheries, San held up a brass instrument boasting a pair of mirrors. "This, Miss (y/n), is how we find ourselves. Celestial bodies help us determine our location," he replied, gentle tone greatly contrasting yours. If he was surprised by the raising of your voice, such puzzlement remained with him.
"Very well," you replied, perhaps a bit too hastily, "let me see how it works."
~
You were a natural with the navigation device, an expert. Well, according to San, who convinced Captain Hongjoong that his shoe-shine girl was a perfect navigator. The sweet words he always had for you, the 'my' added to your old nickname, that one smile it seemed he reserved for you, well, it all accumulated in your heart like grains of sand lodged within an oyster, ever mindful of their presence. Grains rapidly expanding, shining into pearls.
San and you were to pose as an aristocrat couple, the rest of his crew having procured fine clothes from their stock. The dress they gave you was so beautiful, finer silk than had ever touched your skin, that you sat and simply admired it for a moment before even dressing. The pink fabric hugged your body perfectly, accentuating your figure far beyond what you could have ever imagined, even if the low neckline of current vogue had you flushing a bit. Then in came San, reflected in the looking glass as he cut a dashing figure in a tailored suit complete with a delicately embroidered waistcoat. Surely your eyes lingered a bit too long, but you could nary help yourself as he made purposeful strides to your side.
As you rose, rotating to face him, his mouth fell agape, lips parting in…shock?
“Quite different from my usual rags, is this not?” You joked in response.
“You look beautiful,” San breathed, his next step slower, almost reverent, “but it needs one final touch. Do you have my gift?” This time, his tone was a bit shy.
“Yes, of course,” you replied, making the short way to your dresser where you’d wrapped it up for safekeeping and procuring it, “right here.”
“If- if you’d be all right with it,” San said, “please keep that as your spoil. We pirates keep a sign of our first plunder, and though this was a gift, I would be so happy to see you wear it as such.”
Your eyes fell to the dripping gems, topaz alternating between classic yellow and the pink that perfectly matched the gown left at your door. No woman that you could imagine would have denied such elegant craftsmanship, such shine adorning her chest, but San’s expression was so deadly serious, so searching, that that would have been enough.
You nodded, giving a smile you hoped to be reassuring. “Of course, San.”
He broke out into the widest look of joy and flooding relief you’d ever seen, as though someone had just told him all his debts were paid. “Then let me put it on you,” he continued, rushing over to your side once more and gently lifting the necklace from your hands.
His hands shook, yet his fingers, surely trained from their reliefs of spoils, deftly clasped the chain about you as they gently, warmly, brushed your skin. From your peripheries you saw him tilt his head, and something in you bid you turn. You did, meeting him there as your lips connected, San’s holding yours, guiding them so softly he might have thought them glass. Your chest burst triumphantly, as if those fireworks your old home’s mayor had brought in to launch off the docks from China had been lit within your soaring heart.
There was that look again, that dimpled smile of pure joy, those eyes softened as they met yours, when San finally straightened again, parting with the sweet sorrow of old. “Well, it looks like we’ll play this couple role well tonight, won’t we?”
All you could do was nod, heart fluttering as he took your hand, leading you from your room as one might a bride, pearls in your heart glistening like the rainbows of a renewed sky.
☠Mingi☠
The first thing you did was strip your corset off.
Mingi had spirited you away to his quarters while he sought to go, in his words, “explain you”. He was almost naively confident that you would be accepted, leaving you to your own devices in his space with ease. Before leaving, he had dropped a pair of trousers that might fit you on his hammock, the whimsical waving space where he took his rest. Thank the stars, they fit, lacing up at the front like the reverse of your horrendous undergarments and actually allowing you to-shock of shocks!- loosen them as needed.
There was a long scroll of paper hanging by a nail on the wall. It was plain white save for strokes of ink down its surface, gorgeous brushstrokes of calligraphy. Brushing your fingers against the bottom of it, you wondered whose delicate hand might have drawn it. As it was, you were dressed and Mingi hadn’t exactly bidden you wait any certain amount of time, so you creaked your way back up the steps and onto the deck, seal ring hanging in scornful display about your chest.
The pirate had leant you trousers, knee-high boots, and a white tunic to tuck in, and while you felt a bit self-conscious at the open chest a part of you smiled. This would have had the aristocratic courts you’d been thrust in you fainting at the sight-even showing a bit of ankle was a bit unseemly, yet there you were. What a relief it was to stride in trousers, let a little skin breathe.
You almost walked into Mingi in your reverie, stopping just short of a collision as he excitedly announced you’d made the crew a Ninefold.
“I have? Your captain is letting me stay, then?”
Mingi didn’t answer, just stood stock still, jaw falling a bit open. The only sound around you was the breeze, a lone seagull calling out from the clouds.
“Mingi?”
He shook his head, a sudden jerking motion. “My apologies. I just…” His expression turned sheepish, back to that kind look that initially endeared you. “I thought you were pretty before, but wow…”
The compliment, that kind smile, the sheer innocence, all had your heart turning over. What sort of feeling was that?
~
“Selfishly I am quite glad you chose learning to shoot.”
Mingi had set up something of a shooting gallery for you, the crew’s entirety having insisted upon your learning some form of combative measures for defense at least. Being unsure as you were regarding your readiness for the brutality of the sword, you felt it a clear choice: learn to shoot. The tall pirate who had rescued you, if doing the opposite to your unfortunate boor of a betrothed and his companions who attempted a foolish fight, was the ship’s adept with firearms, handing you the very same revolver which had killed your near-captor.
It was heavy in your hand, both physically and in the most literary of senses, as if you yourself had now borne the weight of a life ended. The weapon had beautiful mother-of-pearl inlays decorating its wood, metal shined freshly. Mingi clearly cared for the things, and quite dashing they were up close.
“Now, remember, no finger on the trigger until you are ready to shoot. Aim for the box there,” Mingi pointed, guiding you toward an old broken crate he’d propped on a barrel, assuring you it was trash anyway.
Willing your hand not to shake, you held up a revolver in both hands, aiming at the crate before your index finger slid to the trigger, pulling it back. You knew it was coming and yet the kick had you stumbling. Your first shot was a bit low, striking the upper edge of the barrel. Of course you apologized, but Mingi just laughed and waved a hand, flashing you that wonderfully kind grin.
“Here, let me help you aim,” he told you as he stepped behind you, standing flush to your back and taking hold of your elbow, sliding his hand up as he stayed your arm.
Haze descended into every crevasse of your brain at the warmth of his hip against yours, thicker than that day he’d paid you compliment. His words had made you a fool…
“Alright, (y/n), now!”
BANG!
“That’s my girl!” Turning you around, this time with hands upon your hips, Mingi smiled right into your haze, sea breeze ruffling his hair and whipping through yours.
You grinned back, leaping for joy beneath his hold. A fool you were to be, but an accurate one yet.
☠Wooyoung☠
You slapped the hand of the pirate who called himself Wooyoung off the curve of your waist as he strode triumphantly out of the tavern with you.
“Quit that, you’re not taking me home,” you chided.
He grinned. “I live on the ship. I’m taking you to the ship.”
“To speak with your Captain. See if he’s even got the room for me you think he does.”
“If you’re half as vicious in a fight, he will indeed.”
“You seem to think me quite a fighter for someone with no proof,” you teased.
“We could always wrestle.”
Another slap, this one markedly softer than the last, though. You shook your head, fighting a smile as you crossed the streets, inching ever closer to the docks, the waves surrounding your hometown. Night had closed firmly in upon the patchwork of angles and shingles that were your mess of a birthplace, casting shadows from every eave you passed beneath. Soon, though, you made your way upon the dock, Wooyoung walking you up to the side of a ship bearing the black flag. You knew your ramshackle town was quite friendly with outlaws, but it still rose an eyebrow how bold this man Wooyoung and his crew flaunted their thievery.
“Here we are,” said pirate waved a braceleted hand at the ship’s gangplank, allowing you to lift your skirt and tap up it first, “home sweet home.”
No sooner had you set foot upon the deck than did a voice ring out at your side, another pirate emerging from the shadows. “I know you threatened to find a tavern girl to take home, Wooyoung, but have some class. Is that fair to her?”
No man cowed you anymore. You stepped right over to him, pointed-heel boots thudding upon wood hollower than that of your workplace. “I am only here to speak to your Captain. Nothing more, nothing less. If anyone conquers anyone, it shall be me to his false bravado,” you told the pirate, nodding back to the man you’d danced with.
“He’s a good man beneath it all,” the dark-haired pirate all but whispered.
“I suspected,” you replied. For all Wooyoung’s talk, he held you gently, swayed you merrily, treated you like a far finer thing than a night. Something in him must have thought it unfitting for a man in his position or else found it entertaining. Honestly, likely the latter. “He wishes to make a pirate queen out of a hellhole’s barmaid,” you chuckled, “No one has ever helped me before.”
“He sees something special in you, and I can see why. Welcome to the Eightfold.”
“If your Captain consents,” you shot back.
“I do,” the man who’d melted from the shadows grinned, fingers reaching up to a gold jolly roger pin upon the lapel of his flowing jacket, clearly some symbol of status, “you’ve much spirit indeed, Miss.”
~
You were willing to throw a punch and knew how to prepare the odd fruit the Eightfold had two crates of, and that was good enough for them. They all insisted you were a worthy recruit for quelling barfights alone. Flattering. At least they made good on their promise to get you a sword. The thing felt good in your hand, that much more satisfying than the knife you'd already hidden for the journey to the ship.
Ever an authority of insistence, Wooyoung pushed for his crew to throw a little party to welcome you. Likely an excuse to swing you around the deck, you reflected with a smirk.
Sure enough, as three of his crewmates procured instruments, he bowed like a gentleman at some high-class affair and offered his hand. "May I show our pirate queen a good time?"
You took it. "You may, though I'll stick with 'newest member' for now."
The pair of you stepped in a merry circle to kick off the first upbeat dance before Wooyoung wrapped a hand around your waist from the side, ready to whirl. "Funny, I'd have said 'best looking'," he shot back.
"Oh? That's not you, my daring highwayman?"
You spied a quite unfamiliar bashfulness creep through Wooyoung's smile, his stark gaze dropping a bit beneath the repetition of tunes and the crashing of small waves and the stomping of boots. The look lasted but a moment, replaced by the old standby of wicked fun. "Highwayman? High-seas-man, perhaps!"
"However you like to fancy yourself," you replied, smiling back despite your words.
You'll give the man that: the neverending battle of wits made for good fun, flowing as much a force of nature for you as those surging waves. He was a good dancer, too.
No sooner had you thought that then did the push and pull and twirl overtake, your feet quite literally being swept off as you were dipped low to the deck, a hand instinctively moving to Wooyoung's chest to stabilize yourself. The vee of his tunic was quite deep, your balancing act catching far more of him than of fabric. Another thing he had in his favor, you reflected as your dance partner slid a hand to the back of your head, angling you a bit lower in the process. He leaned a bit further in, nose almost touching yours.
Your eyelashes fluttered as you spoke, voice low. "Not with everyone watching," you told him, pushing back up on his chest in a way that had him standing you back up as the notes faded out into the night's wind.
As you sauntered off to fetch a drink, you caught Wooyoung's eyes following you even more intensely, chest blooming and lips rising with satisfaction.
☠Jongho☠
He’d offered his arm and you’d taken it. A stroll like two lovers meeting, and yet you were leading a pirate to aid in robbing your gracious host. Resisting a dark chuckle, you simply exhaled, giving a little shake of your head. Nothing like you'd expected of the fine evening.
Jongho hummed at your side, tilting his head in question as you passed beneath parted velvet curtains through a columned doorway out to the garden path.
"This is simply...not what I expected of the evening," you spoke into his silent query.
“You can always turn back,” he offered, still looking imperceptibly matter-of-fact.
At that, you shook your head. “Not now. This is an opportunity to be a part of something. To have purpose beyond another. I think maybe that is a better step than falling in love first.”
At that, Jongho smiled, leading you further until you stopped beneath a silver trellis, where three other men stood. “I agree. Well, I say here should be a fair stop. I thank you for-” He froze, grip loosening on your arm.
Following his gaze, you saw another man, fair-haired and finely dressed, standing only about two metres off, an azalea bush only slightly obscuring him. “Not one of your others, is he?”
Jongho shook his head.
“What should we do?” You asked quietly.
Another of Jongho’s men, a tall figure with dark hair and a blade sheathed at his side, replied from the ivy-covered rendezvous point. “If we had something to knock him out with, maybe he’d forget what he saw long enough for us to leave.”
You had heard of that- all it took was a great enough weight, right? Stooping as much as your dress allowed, you hoisted up a little marble statue of a cherub seated on a little pedestal, book in hand. “This should do, right?”
Another of the men, this one with shining black bangs like curtains, nodded and smiled impishly. The tall gentleman-er, pirate- with the blade began a nod, then his entire countenance, face and posture, faded into shock as you lunged forward, knocking the angel into the man’s head and sending him falling backwards. Your stomach heaved at the crimson rivulet streaming from where he lie, hands shooting to your face.
“Is he- Did I..?” Your voice rose barely above a whisper as the carven angel, now dripping with blood, clattered onto a tile from your loosening fingers.
"We need to run," Jongho said, taking hold of your wrist this time as he shuffled through the trellis, "all of us."
"But wait-" You protested beneath his careful hold, running on instinct in an attempt to keep up with the rapid pumping of his legs, barely avoiding catching your skirts.
"If anyone sees that you did that, you could be hanged as a m-" The third man, one with wide, innocent eyes, spoke up, words quite in contrast to his demeanor.
"That's enough," Jongho cut him off, still plodding down the tile trail past the home's prize rosebushes, "(y/n), this place is not safe for you. Run away with us."
You felt sick, but your heart fluttered- out of nerves or excitement, you could hardly tell. All you did was nod weakly, chest burning with heavy breaths from your sprint out the garden gate with four men you barely knew.
~
Guilt wound its way through your chest like a cold snake at what transpired in the garden that night, and yet you found comfort in the pirates who had whisked you to their ship. Being the Eightfold, there were four others beside Jongho and the three who'd looted your hosts that evening, Yunho, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa. Mingi, another tall, imposing pirate, removed his wide-brimmed hat and held it as his chest.
"The first one is always the hardest," he said, and in his tone rested clouds of such a deep sadness that you could nary even question his meaning.
The men gave you such a royal welcome, distracting you with rousing song and dance and more questions and stories than your head could spin at. They’d brought an octopus on deck, taught you how to play tavern card games no lady would have dared touch at home, and hosted a mock trial with Jongho presiding as judge when First Mate Seonghwa ‘tried Captain Hongjoong for high piracy’. You’d expected Jongho to play a serious judge, yet his character broke his dry persona by playing with his gavel and shouting at inopportune times. They saw the way you still balked at sparring, however.
"Do you regret it?" Jongho asked you one day, striding to your side and joining you in leaning upon the edge of the ship, watching the passage of white-capped waves.
“Of course I do. I was so caught up in the moment, I had no inkling I- I- something like that could come of my hand. But I think what I regret more was the faint part of me that enjoyed it. Something completely untouched, utterly foreign woke in me and rushed through my veins and I fear what could come of releasing it again.”
You heard Jongho inhale at your side, felt his exhale faintly against you with the brush of his tunic upon your own shirt. “I will tell you this: we pirates at least never kill without a very, very good reason. And what you did, you did not realize. It was not so in your heart. You were afraid, had just seen a fight, felt for the first time in your life you had something to defend. Would you not say?”
You stared into the shine of Jongho’s deep eyes. He spoke so closely into your mind, it was as if he had been there himself. The waves surrounding you drowned out your emotion, grounded your tears with swirls far more powerful than you could ever truly comprehend. He was right. All your life, you had been taught to seek something to hold onto. In your upbringing, that had been someone else, the security of a man, a fortuitous marriage. An education perhaps, were you feeling any inclination to teach in a prestigious field. Anything to increase the size of your twinkle in society’s eyes. Never fighting to take care of your life. Never to find what it was you wanted. Certainly not learning how to fish just because the fancy had taken you and a crewmate on a still day. All of this came pouring forth from your heart to your lips, no tears accompanying the words, just a tired shudder, a slump as you fell into what felt like a waking sleep, your body truly able to relax from its admissions.
Jongho tensed a bit when your head hit his shoulder. Fatigued as you were, you shot up instantly, leaning further upon the wood again. The strong man before you was, you gathered, the least in favor of the others’ brotherly holds. What a nuisance you must have seemed…
He looked at you with those searching eyes again, the eyes that seemed to bore into thoughts that had barely even come to fruition for you. “It’s all right. I understand. You need this.” He patted his shoulder, welcoming you back. “If you want to.” His gaze darted a bit as he smiled softly, breaking the so-steady contact that had you both wishing to hide away the shadows he saw and lean into it completely.
Something snapped in your chest at that look, yet another of Jongho’s many surprises you’d seen since he first broke your dance to manhandle a villain. For seeming such a smile man, he understood you so much more than you him. Maybe someday that would change.
As it was, you gratefully leaned again, bobbing with the sea in silence save for her mighty roar.
216 notes · View notes
delusionalwriter02 · 2 months
Note
hello!! can you do a insta as gojo gf ??? thank you so much love your work it's so comforting!!
Insta as Gojo's GF
a/n : hey anon! thank you so much for the request and your kind words, hope you'll like it<3
Tumblr media
<3 liked Satoru_thegoat, Shokolate and 586 others.
Yn_ : the fucker got a mascot
Shokolate : he got a whole family
↳ Yn_ : I love Meg and Tsu but it's getting out of hand
↳ Shokolate : sending you LOTS of courage my love
↳ Yn_ : thank you dear
↳ Satoru_thegoat : babbbbeeeee don't act like it's atrocious, Marguerite is adorable
↳ Yn_ : SHE PEED ON MY FAV SHIRT
↳ Satoru_thegoat : i'll buy another one
↳ Yn_ : Even Tsumiki don't like Marguerite
↳ Satoru_thegoat : she'll learnnnnn
↳ Tsumiki_F : no I won't
↳ Satoru_thegoat : sensing a lot of bad vibes here
Tumblr media
<3 liked by Satoru_thegoat, Geto_OG and 457 others.
Yn_ : too damn tall @.Satoru_thegoat change that username
Satoru_thegoat : that username is PERFECT for me
↳ Geto_OG : won't surprise me if you suck your own dick
↳ Satoru_thegoat : don't use that language around the kids
↳ Megumi_F : too late
↳ Satoru_thegoat : MEGUMI DON'T READ THOSE MESSAGES AND GO BACK TO CLASS
↳ Megumi_F : it's lunch break, we don't have classes
↳ Satoru_thegoat : then go have lunch with Yuji and Nobara WITHOUT YOUR PHONE
↳ Yn_ : calm down love, Megumi is old enough to know those words yk ?
↳ Satoru_thegoat : as long as i'm his father, he won't use a rude language
↳ Megumi_F : you're not my father
↳ Yn_ : see ? @.Satoru_thegoat
↳ Satoru_thegoat : MEGUMI STOP IT
Tumblr media
<3 liked by Yn_, Satoru_thegoat and 286 others.
YujiandSukuna : he seems so happy to see @.Satoru_thegoat, @.Megumi_F
Megumi_F : everything was perfect but he HAD to ruin it
↳ Satoru_thegoat : I know you love me, you're just having a little crisis
↳ Megumi_F : fuck off
↳ Satoru_thegoat : I was the same at your age
↳ Geto_OG : you were SO MUCH worse
↳ Shokolate : we couldn't stand you
↳ Satoru_thegoat : WHY IS EVERYBODY AGAINST ME ??? @.Yn_ MY LOVE TELL ME YOU'RE ON MY SIDE
↳ Yn_ : Meg is an angel, you were atrocious
↳ Tsumiki_F : Gojo you forgot Marguerite water
↳ Satoru_thegoat : coming home asap
↳ Geto_OG : he can't even take care of a cat
Tumblr media
<3 liked by Satoru_thegoat, Shokolate and 673 others.
Yn_ : sweet morning
Shokolate : i bet calm morning are SO RARE
↳ Yn_ : you couldn't be more right
↳ Shokolate : is Marguerite always wearing those glasses ?
↳ Yn_ : she takes it off but Satoru insist
↳ Geto_OG : seems like him
↳ Satoru_thegoat : but she's sooo cute with it
↳ Yn_ : cuter than me ?
↳ Satoru_thegoat : yes.
↳ Yn_ : YOU'RE SO SLEEPING ON THE COUCH
↳ Satoru_thegoat : NO MY LOVE IM SORRY i was joking
Tumblr media
<3 liked by Satoru_thegoat, YujiandSukuna and 248 others.
Yn_ : make up ride
Satoru_thegoat : sleeping without you is the worst
↳ Yn_ : at least you slept with your new gf
↳ Satoru_thegoat : tell me you're not jealous of A CAT
Tumblr media
Hey dear! Hope you liked it ? Thank you so much for your kind words!!
with love <3
87 notes · View notes
foliosriot · 7 months
Text
The Rotten And Ugly
pairing: noah sebastian x reader
summary: you break up with noah without thinking about the consequences for either of you.
warnings: language. description of a panic attack. self-worth issues. mental health problems.
a/n: anyways this got angstier than i’d originally anticipated so uh enjoy the pain i’m about to serve you on a damaged and thrifted zoopals plate
masterlist
Tumblr media
You hate how much he’s gotten under your skin over the years. The way he’s taken a variety of sharp objects and ruthlessly carved his name into your bones. In the intricacies of your veins there are markings that are nearly identical to his tattoos. You swear your hips and waist are permanently speckled with dark smudges, a repeating pattern that looks suspiciously like his fingerprints.
You’re still picking out pieces of him from yourself.
And yet, you were the one to end it. You were the one that told Noah you “can’t do this anymore”, whatever the hell that means. He asked as much, but you didn’t seem capable in giving him a straight answer. So you left the house battling against your instincts to run back to him.
But you were able to fight against them as you let yourself out the front door, leaving behind someone that has been a rock in your life for as long as you can remember. You left Noah standing in the living room, alone and confused. You fucking abandoned your self-proclaimed soulmate.
That was nearly a month ago.
After you left the boys’ house that day, you somehow convinced yourself that you were no longer hopelessly in love with Noah. You gaslit your own brain into believing your relationship — both platonic and romantic — was built on the fact that you were never good enough, that Noah took pity on you from the get-go.
It seemed to work. At first, that is. Because, before you altered your brain, you allowed yourself to wallow in your guilt and anxieties. For three consecutive days you bawled into your pillows, grimacing and crying even harder when the smell of Noah’s cologne met your nostrils. You were throwing yourself quite the pity party, and it was torturous.
But you were the one who was convinced that you never deserved Noah in the first place. You ended it, not him.
When those three days were up and gone, you managed to pull yourself together long enough to allow your best friend, Violet, to take you out for a girls’ night. It was something you needed — it was something that could distract you from your own head.
And the fact that it had worked was surprising. Maybe it worked too well.
At one of the handful of bars Violet had dragged you to you met Ryan. He was tall, lithe build and long limbs. His blackened hair was shorter on the sides, allowing the top to grow longer, thus falling into the beautiful hazel of his eyes. He had snow white skin but his flesh was divided up by swathes of colored ink that had nearly glowed under the neon lights. He’d donned an old Bullet For My Valentine t-shirt and black cargo pants.
Something about him had felt familiar to you. But you weren’t allowed anymore pondering over that inclination as Ryan had dragged you onto the dance floor.
It wouldn’t occur to you until a week later when you and Ryan were on your first official date. If it weren’t for the gauged ears, the round, rimless glasses, or the chunky gold rings, you would have thought he was somebody else. It was almost uncanny.
God, but you could have sworn…
You were wrong, however.
Ryan seemed to really like you, though. He had an eye for finer details and was a real sweetheart. He was obviously taking things slow with you, especially after you had accidentally dumped the story of what happened with Noah onto him over one too many shots of tequila. His genuine concern and sympathy over the entire ordeal had you fawning over him tenfold.
You and Ryan went on more dates since that night. Around him you were pushing down your self pity and replacing it with something you could have mistaken for happiness; you felt content around Ryan.
Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever.
It was nearing dusk when your apartment’s doorbell chimed. The sound startled you for a moment, but you relaxed as you headed for the door.
But there was Ryan, that smile of his you had anticipated on his face. You swallow down the chunk of disappointment.
“Hey,” you greeted him. You stepped aside to let him inside before gently clicking the door shut. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, sorry! I was gonna text you that I was coming over, but I thought I’d make it a surprise,” Ryan replies with a shrug.
You force a smile, hoping it came off, at least, partially genuine. “Oh, okay. Well, do you wanna watch a movie or something, then?” you asked.
“Sure.”
The two of you walk in to the living room in search of something to watch, be it a movie or a random episode of a TV show. You sit fairly close to each other on the small couch, a minimal amount of space between both your legs.
As you continue your hunt for your entertainment for the night, your anxiety begins to gradually rise. Your heart is thumping wildly and the palms of your hands are growing clammy and there’s a dull throbbing pain behind your left eye. Why is this happening? What the fuck is going on?
You don’t realize when you begin drawing in breaths in quicker succession, until your chest is seizing and you’re hyperventilating. The sound of Ryan’s concerned voice is muted from inside your skull, making you feel as if you were underwater. Tears are spilling down your face but you can’t find the strength to wipe them away.
Then you feel the vibrations of Ryan frantically speaking to you floating around your brain, and you’re not quite sure what he asked, but you manage to choke out one word.
Noah.
Everything became darker and blurrier after that. Time didn’t existence nor did anything around you. Your head was swimming and you couldn’t figure out where you were — if you were at home, if you were at work, with Noah.
Noah.
You think you hear the front door opening and slamming shut all of a sudden. But you aren’t quite sure anymore. This is the most violent panic attack you’ve ever had.
You jolt when there’s an unexpected hand carefully grasping yours. It must be Ryan.
His skin is frigid compared to the heat radiating from you. He begins gently running his thumb over your knuckles, a gesture that feels vaguely familiar.
The thing that finally brings you back to the present is the soft voice in your ear. At least you think it’s soft and gentle. Everything still sounds warbled, but there’s a distinct difference to this voice. You latch onto it and begin pulling yourself towards it in hopes of relinquishing the hold this panic attack has on you.
Darkness begins slinking away to reveal your living room. Your vision is blurry when you come to, but you blink away the tears that cling to your eyelashes, the action almost painful. You take a few moments to carefully and slowly gulp down several lungfuls of air before you turn to the body beside you.
But you aren’t met with the worried glaze in Ryan’s hazel eyes. Instead you see Noah next to you, his head angled down in your direction as he quietly sings.
Oh.
That’s how you were able to get through your panic attack. The only thing that has ever had that kind of power is Noah singing and holding your hand. He did it to let you know he was there the entire time, to provide something to keep you grounded to reality.
“Noah…”
Your voice comes out as a broken whisper. Noah immediately stops singing. His head shoots up. There is a frantic glint in his dark eyes as he searches your face for a moment before locking his gaze with yours.
“Baby, what happened?” he asks, one of his hands moving to your face. His palm is cool against your cheek, and you nearly shudder at the sensation of his calloused thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.
“Wh-What are you doing here?” you counter. You’re trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in your heart when he called you baby. But it is much too difficult, especially when he’s looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. Like you were worth looking at and cherishing. Your stomach churns mildly.
A muscle feathers under his skin when Noah clenches his jaw. He continues staring at you, save for the single glance he shoots up and to the left.
You hesitantly look over your shoulder, and there, standing just behind the couch with his hands clenching the cushions, is Ryan. The look on his face is tight but unreadable. You feel Noah’s hand lightly glide down until it rests against the side of your neck. Ryan’s eyes track the movement.
“What happened?” You ask Ryan the same question, hoping he gives you an answer. You’re trying to ignore the placement of Noah’s hand, but it is proving to be nowhere near easy.
It takes Ryan a few prolonged seconds to say anything. But when he does finally speak, he says, “We were trying to find a movie to watch, but then you tensed and started shaking. I tried talking to you and to get you to stop crying and hyperventilating. You weren’t responding and I was getting really fucking worried.”
Ryan pauses. He visibly swallows, then shifts his hazel gaze from the hand against your throat to your face. A flinch ripples through your body at the emotionless light in his eyes.
“You managed to say one word,” he continues. His tone is devoid of feeling, almost like he was trying not to show any emotion at all. “Noah. And I automatically knew who you were talking about. So, because I was desperate as shit, I got your phone unlocked and found his contact you kept for some reason. I called him and, well, here he is.”
Ryan looks down at the floor beneath him. Your heart is speeding up once more, and Noah seems to have noticed because he presses his index finger into the pulse point beneath the hinge of your jaw. The pressure is ginger at best, but it somehow manages to keep you from going in to hysterics once more.
You look back at Noah to see him already watching you closely. Your breath hitches slightly when you notice the familiar loving shine in his irises. God, you have missed him so much.
Noah has one knee bent and resting on the couch, with the other dangling over the edge. Over the course of the attack you had crumpled into a ball — a familiar aspect of these things for you — and Noah had managed to peel away your arms from where they had wrapped around your legs like a vise. He had entered your personal bubble in hopes of helping you. One hand of his hands still held yours with a secure grip.
You felt an overwhelming need to wrap Noah up in a thankful, loving hug. But you still felt Ryan’s presence.
Mulling over your decision in your head kept the room silent. It took longer than you would have wanted, but you knew it was a necessary one to make in the first place.
“Ryan.” You shift just enough to face Ryan more directly. He lifts his head as you force your arm to move. You slowly reach for one of his hands, gathering the strength to talk. “Thank you for being here. It means so much to me.”
Ryan doesn’t say anything initially. First, he rakes his gaze over to Noah, a glare overcoming him.
“I didn’t do anything, Y/N,” he bites out. “All I did was call the ex.”
You feel Noah tense, but he doesn’t speak.
“I’m gonna leave now,” Ryan says, finally stepping away from the couch. “I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N.”
As Ryan heads for the door, you call out, “I’ll call you.”
With his hand already on the doorknob, Ryan stops to look at you. His gaze softens as you make eye contact.
“No. Don’t worry about it,” he tells you. His words are quiet and tinged with a tense of sadness. He gives you a small smile. “This was really nice. I’ll see you around.”
Then Ryan is gone.
And you’re alone with Noah.
Silence sits over you like a weighted blanket. Sitting in the dead quiet with Noah has always been relaxing and comfortable, because there would be times you would lay your head down on his chest and listen to his steady heartbeat. At times like those neither of you had any responsibilities or stresses. You simply existed together in your own little world.
But there is an underlying tension this time around. You’re still angled towards the front door and you can feel Noah watching you. His pinky brushes your collarbone, and it takes all of your remaining strength to suppress a shiver.
Then Noah’s hand slips from your neck, and you can’t help but miss the sudden vacancy.
“Y/N. Can we talk about this?”
Noah’s voice is quiet. His soft tone is tainted with something akin to anger, but you can’t be sure. Maybe it’s sadness or confusion. Either way, you turn your head towards him.
Strands of his dark hair are dangling in front of his face. There’s an unidentifiable glint in his eyes that has your heart stuttering. You suddenly have a desire to reach forward and touch the tattoos on his hands and neck, everything else covered in black clothing. And you think you’re successful at resisting that feeling, when you’ve slowly counted to ten in your head. But you can never rein yourself in very well when it comes to Noah.
You turn to fully face him. He watches your every move with a confused air about him. His body stills completely when you finally stretch your arm out, your fingertips brushing the red apple at his throat. You swear he shivers slightly when your fingernails graze his inked skin.
Noah lets you touch his tattoos without a word or twitch of a muscle. With every movement you make he watches you like a hawk, like he’s going to tear you limb from limb at any moment. You have done this countless times over the years, but something about this time feels different.
This goes on for only a few short minutes. Until Noah grasps your wrists and gently pushes your arms away from him. He keeps his hold on you.
“Y/N.”
Your throat constricts slightly in apparent preparation to cry once more. But you swallow thickly as you manage to meet his eye.
“Noah.”
He tightens his jaw. He lowers his eyebrows slightly as he considers you and your slightly patronizing reply of his name.
“We’re gonna talk about this,” he tells you. “Right now. Whether you like it or not. We need to talk.”
And he’s right, you know he is. Though you don’t know how this is going to go.
You shakily take a deep breath anyways. You nod once, gesturing as best as you can despite your momentary shackles for Noah to speak.
“Why? Why did you break up with me?” Oh god, you’re hoping he didn’t feel your pulse spike at his question. “I mean, you gave me a reason, but we both know it was kinda bullshit. You didn’t tell me the truth. So can you tell me the truth now?”
Fuck. You can’t do this.
I’m sorry, Noah. But I can’t do this anymore.
There’s a pulsing behind your eye. Your head is pounding and your cheeks are tear-stained. And you would be an even bigger liar if you restated what you said that night. ‘Cause by the fucking gods above, you were all in from the beginning. You knew you were in love with Noah a long time before you actually started dating. You have been by his side through the worst years of his life, and he has been there for yours.
You have missed him more than anything this past month. Even while hanging out with Ryan something felt off. Your brain was too hung up on Noah to even fathom forgetting him or replacing him.
So what’s the point of hiding anything else from Noah, since he has seen and witnessed every dark and ugly and rotten thing you hold inside? He saw all the bad and evil that reside deep, deep down and still chose to stay.
But you have been broken for a long time, even considering how much Noah has helped you. There is something damaged beyond repair within. You’re not sure if it’s worth keeping anyone around anymore in order to try and fix it. It seems pointless, really.
Noah is still watching you. His hands are firm around your wrists as he waits for your answer.
“I’ve never been good enough for you,” you finally say, and it feels like a weight is lifted from your chest. “You how damaged I am. You have seen all of the shit that keeps me up at night and you’ve experienced firsthand how violent my panic attacks are. Why the fuck did you stay? You’re Noah fucking Sebastian. Lead singer of a successful metal-core band, who could have anyone he wants. And you chose me? I guess I just don’t see why.
“I’m not worth the hassle or worry. Everyone wastes their time with me. I’m not getting better — I can’t get better! So I removed the variable that was the issue. I removed the problem so you wouldn’t have to. I willingly took the swan dive, ‘cause sooner or later I was gonna self-destruct. I’m a fucking time-bomb, and you know it.”
Throughout your explanation Noah stared at you. He had made no attempts to interject or talk down on your feelings. He listened intently, and your heart aches.
But you can’t take the staring any longer. You wrench your hands away from Noah and stand from the couch. You wobble on your feet for a moment before you regain your balance, shuffling to the other side of the living room.
You turn to look at Noah to see him slumped against the back couch cushions. His arms are crossed over his chest and his eyes are still tracking you. Both feet are planted on the carpet.
“Would you stop looking at me like that?” you demand. “Like—Like I’m being irrational. Or, like—“
“Like I actually care about you?”
You fall silent at Noah’s interruption. His face is nearly expressionless, but you detect the minuscule frown on his lips.
“I’m not gonna stop caring about you, Y/N,” Noah continues, his voice low. You think he may be angry. “It’s not something I’m interested in doing. Because, yeah, I’ve seen all of the fucked up shit inside of you, but you’ve also seen it from me. You chose to stay too, right? So why would I want someone who doesn’t harbor a little bit of pain or agony? That makes you human, and that makes you you. ‘Cause believe me when I say that I am in love with you. Baggage and everything. But I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Tears had begun falling from your eyes again. Your lips trembled slightly at Noah’s declaration. Your body was shaking.
You watch as Noah gets to his feet. You can’t help but fold your arms around your torso as he slowly approaches you. The blood pumping through your veins and roaring in your ears is deafening.
“I can’t promise I won’t hurt you.”
Noah pauses a few paces away at your words. He meets your eye for just a moment before you’re locking your gaze onto the floor.
“Okay. Then don’t promise. I don’t care if you hurt me, ‘cause I’m gonna stay either way.”
“No.”
“No, what?”
“What if…” You sniffle as you tighten your hold on yourself. “What if I don’t want you to stay?”
“That’s not happening.”
“Noah, I—“
Noah takes the steps forward to reach you. “The only reason you don’t want me to stay is so you can convince yourself everything was your fault,” he told you. His voice is still low in pitch and peppered with a certain hardness. “I’m not gonna let that happen. None of this is your fault.”
Your instincts are screaming at you to fall into Noah. Every inch of your body is berating you to let this all go and let Noah back in. You both need each other, you know that. So why is this so goddamn hard?
His words hang in the air like a heavy fog. Your vision is blurry from tears. Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest. This has to end.
“Get out.”
Noah recoils a fraction at your unexpected statement. “What?”
“I said get out. I made my decision, and you need to respect that.”
“I’m not leaving.”
More tears cascade down your face. Every single one feels like acid eating away at your skin as you raise your head to look Noah in the eye.
“I’m not going to ask you again, Noah.”
Noah doesn’t protest. But you can see the tears in his eyes as he eventually backs away and goes for the front door. You’re shaking uncontrollably as you watch him open the door, chance a glance back at you, then leave. He gently shuts it behind him.
A void opens up in your chest. It yawns wide, a blackened abyss growing bigger and bigger inside of you, threatening to consume your soul.
God, what the fuck have you done? You are so in love with him, and you just let him leave like that. You can’t even begin to believe that you’re this fucking stupid.
But Noah left because he loves you. And that makes the tears fall harder and faster.
You can’t imagine a life where he isn’t there. Frankly, you don’t want to imagine such a life. In every past, present and future you have ever conjured up in your head, Noah has always been there. And you just ruined any chance of fulfilling a better future for both of you.
This can’t happen.
You’re not going to let this happen.
Without thinking you dash for the door and fling it open. At the other end of the fairly short hallway, near the elevator, is Noah. His head is hung and he’s holding his phone. You can’t see his face clearly, but there’s a foreign rigidness to his body that you wish you never have to see again.
“Noah!”
And at first Noah doesn’t react. Then he’s twisting his neck to look your way. The sight of you has him straightening his posture and sliding his phone back in to his pocket. You can see the rise and fall of his chest, a certain anxiety about him that hurts your heart.
Then you let out a loud sob, and Noah is racing for you without hesitation. He gathers you in his arms before your body crumples to the floor. You latch your fingers onto the fabric of his shirt as you cry against his shoulder. One of his arms is fastened around your abdomen while the other is along your shoulders, that hand slipping through your locks of hair and carelessly gripping at the roots.
“I’m sorry,” you sob against his body. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. God, I’m so stupid. I am so sorry—“
Noah cuts you off. “No, Y/N, do not apologize,” he tells you, his own voice thick with tears. “You’re not stupid, either. You were trying to do the right thing for you, and that’s okay. Never apologize for that. Okay?”
You manage to nod once. Then he’s carrying you back into your apartment in the direction of your room. He carefully sets you down on your bed and immediately joins you. There’s blankets around you and Noah is holding you tightly.
You bury your face in his neck with your arms coiled around his shoulders. His arms hold you against him, his head resting beside yours on the pillows.
The pillows were beginning to lose the smell of Noah’s cologne. You were worried they would have trapped the scent of Ryan instead over the past couple weeks, but all you feel is Noah. Every sense is overwhelmed by him and his presence. The feeling of his body against yours feels like coming home once and for all.
Tumblr media
thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated <3
229 notes · View notes
judasgot-it · 11 months
Text
Argument with Dazai Part 2
Here's a link to part 1 if you haven't read that, people asked for a second part (I love you guys I will always write second parts if you ask btw no matter how old the post is) so I am now finally delivering !! Sorry I'm a slow writer lol I can't help it
This almost makes me seem like I hate Dazai but I try to follow canon and dude is a menace when it comes to relationships, but I tried to redeem him best I can! LOL
Scenario: Getting into an argument with Dazai; making up <3
Tumblr media
You could feel the heat from the day leaving beads of sweat on the back of your neck, your thick shirt sticking to your back as you carried your bags on your lower arms. It was uncomfortable, threatening to slip off as you tried to unlock your door.
Inside your head, you were praying that Dazai had left for the day.
But you watched as your keys, still stuck into your door, jingled as the door swung open on its own. Behind the door, you saw your walkway, with your usually haphazardly thrown shoes now neatly put away, and there were a pair of chestnut eyes looking shyly at you, waiting for you to step in.
Taking your keys, you tried to avoid those eyes, instead focusing intently on resettling yourself back into your home. You tried to ignore the hand that hung your keys next to his, fingers doing so as if the metal were made of glass. You turned your head as you felt those hands slipping the plastic bags off of your arms, ignoring how cold his hand felt next to your own skin.
You merely observed as your body did the same as it always did, walking into your apartment and observing the changes.
For once, you were surprised.
"Do you wanna sit down?"
Dazai put a feather-light touch on your shoulder, leaning so close you could feel his hair sticking to the sweat on your face. You pushed him away.
"Dazai."
You finally turned to look at him. The man you usually knew to stand tall and straight had his shoulders slumped over - his entire body gave into you, as if it were already an apology in itself.
You could see him eating his ego as he looked at you, his eyebrows taught as he kept his hands at his sides.
"I'm sorry about what happened."
He rushed it out as if trying to prevent your harsh words from hurting him more than your mere presence did. Guilt was eating him alive.
You looked down at the floor. What you had expected to do when you came home was clean up the rest of his mess - but right now, instead of stepping on sticky alcohol, the floor you were standing on was spotless.
"There's no point."
You moved to sit on the couch, crossing your ankle over your knee. Dazai's shadow was near your foot, begging to be acknowledged. Its cold static wisps were clawing at your white sock, although the man himself had made no move to come closer towards you.
In all your time of knowing him, sharing space with him, you had never known him to be scared.
"You won't tell me why you acted like that, besides the alcohol. Dazai, I've known you for years, but I don't even know who you are. I don't know if anyone knows who you really are, anyhow. And I don't think you're going to tell me."
A weight settled a small distance from you, only enough to feel the disturbance in the cushions he made with his weight. You passed a glance at his hands, which were kept firmly on his thighs, twisting and picking at his nails. They were red and raw as if he were set on destroying himself all day.
"I don't know how to tell you. There's a beginning that I can't even look for myself. The worst parts are too painful to bring up, but I know you want to know at least why I do the things I do, right?"
A nothing answer, maybe a lead. Dazai was vague at best with this, but with the way he was trying to peel even the tiniest piece of skin away from his thumb, it was clearly difficult for him to spit it out.
You gave pause, having a moment of silence between the two of you, before you replied.
"Is it loss?"
There was a deep breath that Dazai released at that. You finally looked up at his face, watching as his brown eyes were carefully trying to conceal the emotions that he felt. You could see clear as day, past the mask that he had carefully built up, that his eyes were large and wet, with a pulled-back lip to hide the shaking.
This affected him. Deeply.
It was so apparent but he seemed to hide it better than you would ever suspect. He only seemed to show his grief in self-destruction. Self-inflicted punishment for a crime he didn't commit - how Dazai of him.
"Yes. It was a few years ago now, but he was the closest thing I had to a father. After he died, um..."
You reached out to Dazai, placing your hand over his, peeling his other hand away from his now bleeding thumb. His eyes met yours.
"Sorry. I was never a good person before I knew him. I promised to be better for him, but I'm not good at it."
You looked to your hands, where you felt his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. You could feel the callouses on his skin as they brushed against the back of your hand, back and forth in a languid Dazai-esque pattern.
"Well. You try. It's why I came back. I think he would be proud of you for that - if he saw that you were trying. That's the only thing you can do when you make these kinds of mistakes."
You took your other hand, reaching up to brush away Dazai's hair that stuck to his neck due to the sweat. His skin was cold and clammy as he leaned into your touch.
Pulling him closer, you let the brow fall against your collarbone as you gently stroked the back of his neck, feeling the small stubble of hairs that were growing from his last haircut. Dazai pressed himself closer against you, trying to hide his face in his bangs and in your shirt, although you could feel the tears that he tried to hide.
Dazai held your hand a little tighter.
You pulled him a little closer.
The apartment you shared felt more like a home today.
Idk if I like the ending LOL but um this is kinda long?? also sorry if this reads different than usual cause im trying to improve my writing style im just figuring it out aaaahhhhhhh
342 notes · View notes
honeymvnt · 4 months
Text
White Mustang [18+]
Barry Seal !femxreader¡
Words count: 3.2k
Warnings: SMUT, that’s all
𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ ──────────── 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You hated this city. You hated this place with all of yourself but you couldn't get rid of it, nor you could escape from it.
Being a girl in the late seventies wasn't easy anyway and when everything around you seemed to be rotting into the past, dwelling against what was making America so great after the Second World War you were trying to look forward for a better life, for a better something you've been reading about in books, seeing on television or in the magazines.
Your parents weren't helping with the whole situation either: you hated staying by their rules especially your father's and the more you tried to gain your own confidence, the more they were bringing you down, suffocating your dreams, your little silly fantasies about a bright future towards the 80s, towards the inner cities, the ones that were growing compared to the ones where you were forced to live.
But the day you met him, everything changed.
You were trying your best not to make it sound like fairy tale, or an old Hollywood movie but he did make you feel that way and with time it turned out to be as unreal as you feared it would've.
Since that day he was all you were thinking about and you couldn't do anything else besides waiting for him again, waiting for him to come back to you has he had promised.
Barry, god of a man he was with that attitude, that mysterious aura that was surrounding him, that captured you so intensely that left such a sweet taste on your lips, like a liquor you couldn't get enough of.
When you met him in that shabby bar (which was also the best one, considered the others) you couldn't take your eyes off of him and for some reason he had seen you too even if he wasn't supposed to.
He had tried to avoid you, he had to. You were too ridiculously young and he was out of your league, not just because of the big evident age gap between the two of you but he did seriously look like someone who wanted to stay alone, unbothered. Yet he had found you particularly intriguing and just so different from the rest of the people in that quite small place.
The way you were moving, showing more elegance than arrogance for a girl as pretty as you, was certainly a quality he didn't forget to grasp when he looked back at you and you caught his lips between his white teeth. Compared to how your friends were acting he was intrigued by you only, almost fascinated by the fake innocence you were showing off, somehow, around him.
"Is the White Mustang yours? " You asked before you wrapped your lips around the colored straw hanging out from the tall glass of coke you were drinking from.
He looked directly into your eyes, breaking through you with his own green ones, slightly covered by some dark strands that were giving him no peace that night.
The corners of his lips raised a little as his body moved to face yours and one of his hands moved away from the cold glass of gin he had been sipping since when he walked in and put it on his thigh.
You tried your best to keep your eyes in place and avoid the half opened shirt, the leather shiny belt wrapped around his waist so jealously, his parted lips and you maintained your eyes in his.
"Yeah" he replied with a smile, tilting his head to catch the group of loud friends behind you.
"Are those your friends? Right there?"
You followed his gaze and looked behind yourself, noticing how embarrassing the view was, how annoying their laughs and chatting were now that you were trying to talk to him.
"Yeah..." you faced him again and you caught his smile while he looked at them, as if he was trying to recall a memory from the past.
He was difficult to read but brutally honest if he had to be, that' something you found out later that night.
"Why aren't you with them?" He said turning his body around to finish his drink.
The wave of excitement he was able to crash on you with just one gaze was something that you've never experienced before and that you've been dying to feel over and over again.
You eyes landed on the pair of sunglasses that were hanging from his belt before you could look back at him
"Dunno" you said with all the honesty you had and it was true. Frankly, they were just an excuse to stay away from your house, from your parents; an excuse to be able to let your thoughts wander freely, without that heavy guilty feeling pushing down your throat until when your stomach hurt.
"Too bad, you should go back to them" the man put the empty glass on the counter, before he slid his hand into his pocket and dragged a few dollars out of it. You stared at him, studied his every move, from the way his hands wrapped around the glass, to the way he struggled to find the money in his expensive trousers.
You were so infatuated by him that your eyes never left him alone, not even when he walked past you as if you were nothing, as if the conversation never happened, as if he'd never seen you before. You found it extremely captivating, almost irritating.
The man approached the door and simply stepped outside, not looking back and you wished with all of yourself that he was going to but he didn't. His keys were swinging between his fingers as he approached the car but you couldn't let him go.
The once sweet taste he had made you feel on your tongue when you first met his eyes was now replaced by an annoying bitterness that you hated.
It was unexplainable how he had made you feel so much in such a short time and yet, knowing how wrong this was, you felt great distress at the thought of not being able to see him ever again. Stranger to the risk, when you heard his car starting, you rushed outside and stood there, uncertain if what you were putting yourself through was going to be good for you.
He smiled when he saw you as if he knew that you would've done such thing. You weren't so unpredictable as he thought you were and it made you feel really good. Bluntly, and weird to say, it made you feel understood, unlike how others were vieweing you.
"Wanna go for a ride?" you caught his teeth shining between his lips and his sunglasses lowering over his nose so you could see how bright his eyes were.
You took a deep breath of relief and quickly opened the car's door to sit next to him before his hands slide on the steering wheel and you both left the parking lot.
The sun was slowly lowering down the horizon when he drove next to the coast, making you admire the breathtaking view on your right. You could feel the warm light kissing your skin, the breeze of the ocean wrapping around you when you decided to expose yourself out of the car and sense the freedom on your face.
He noticed how your knees were siking into the soft material of the seat, your hands gripping the car, your hair swining all over the place and he didn't even look ahead you, to see what you were seeing, he was looking at you every now and then to catch up with the road.
You looked back at him with such a smile that Barry had to fight the urge to just stop the ride and kiss you but he had to wait for it just like you. 
The sound of the waves crashing against the cliff was making you feel so free, a kind of freedom you really never experienced before and when you felt his hand holding your dress a little, you faced him with a smile stamped on your face.
You didn't hesitate to take a good look of him as well and your eyes could't move away from his body, how tensed it was and how badly he was trying to compose himself. His hands were gripping the steering wheel and he cleared his throat before noticing your glare. 
That stare you gave him in that bar earlier, piercing into his green eyes just like you were doing right now was only making him struggle to keep himself composed and you noticed it straight away.
You smirked when you observed that he had sped up the car and the wheels were slipping on the smooth road way faster than before, it wasn't that difficult to read him anymore so you decided to take advantage of the situation. Your tongue smoothly caressed your lips before you adjusted yourself on the leather seat, which was a little sticky by now, and slowly moved towards him.
Barry quickly looked down at you and his grasp loosened when he realized what you were about to do. Your hands slide up his clothed thighs, towards his waist to unbuckle his leather belt and lazily opened it, letting the sound of it sending shivers down your spine.
"Eyes on the road" you teased while your hands worked their way into his pants and took his length out. His breath got stuck in his throat and his muscles tensed when you suddenly started to stroke it. Just the sight of the pre cum glistening on the tip of his cock was making you drip wet and when you couldn't even contain your own excitement his hand slowly moved to the back of your head and caressed your hair, making you quiver in anticipation.
"You really want me to stop this car, don't you?" he teased back as you bit your lip, trying to see his eyes behind his dark sunglasses but they quickly moved to the road again before you could even reply.
Your hand kept stroking him slowly, from the tip to the base, squeezing it slightly just to hear how heavy his breathing was and see how badly he was trying to hold himself back from bucking his hips towards your hand and feel more. Before he could even catch his breath your face moved even closer to his cock and the sight he had right down his lap was the best view he has ever seen.
You smiled while your tongue gradually licked and wet his lenght as your hands rested on his thigh and your mouth started to drool already when a loud groan left his lips and his hand kept holding the back of your head.
"Use that slutty mouth you've got, c'mon" he grunted through his teeth, looking down at you when you started to swirl your tongue around his cock and suck it slow enough to make the both of you moan in desperation.
"Fuck...." Barry breathed out, gripping the steering wheel with a hand, trying to keep the car straight while his other hand was holding your hair away from your face. 
"That's it- you're doing so well" the sound of his voice alone was making you even more aroused and you couldn't ignore the wet feeling between your legs as you were trying to press your thighs together. His eyes glanced down at you when he heard you gagging miserably around his cock, before he noticed how needlessly you were trying to suffocate the growing ache between your thighs.
"I'm gonna take care of you" he whispered while your hand started to stroke him again, faster and harder than before, just to get him to the point where he couldn't take it anymore and when you saw how close he was you pulled away, smiling proudly and licking your lips as if you thought that that was a smart move... maybe with a guy your age, definately not with him.
Barry watched you sitting back down on your seat without saying anything for a bit, catching his breath while he kept driving but his hand moved towards your dress and he raised it all the way up.
"don't move" his tone was firm, almost urgent as his fingers found the side of your underwear and slid it down your thigh. The whole thing was making you even more excited than it already was and just the way he wanted to touch you to get his revenge was all you needed to get even wetter.
"Take them off" Barry ordered you, looking at the road and then back at you "I said take them off, or you can't even do this?" if it was supposed to offend you it only made you want to tease him even more so you slowly slid your underwear down your thighs and his hand immediately took them and put them into the pocket of his jacket.
"I keep these" he said before his hand returned between your legs "and you keep it quiet" you looked back at him with your lips parted but when you suddenly felt his fingers rubbing your folds a gasp hit your throat and your hands held the seat for dear life.
"What have I just said?" he brought his hand towards your face to force you to look at him back and after a slight squeeze of your cheeks you found the guts to reply "to keep it quiet".
"Good girl" he smiled and let go of your face to bury his hand between your legs and spread your wetness all over your folds before sliding a finger into your smooth core. You bit your lip as hard as you could, holding his wrist with the same urgency he was finger-fucking you. 
When he added another finger you knew you weren't going to last any longer and Barry ejoyed to see you begging him with your eyes or with your hand squeezing his wrist so tightly as if he was going to let you cum so beautifully after teasing him that much.
"plea-" 
"don't you dare" he said, speeding up the pace until when your back was basically arched from  the seat. One more thrust and you were done, one more and you could leave that car and him as well but right when your walls clenched around his fingers he smoothly took them away, trailing your wetness all over your thighs as he stopped the car along the side of the road.
"I said I was going to take care of you..." Barry brought his hand behind your back so you could stand up and follow his movements. "But you changed my plans" he finished and gestured you to sit on his lap.
A smile spread across your face as he held your waist with both of his hands and guided you down his cock. You bit you lips to ignore the delightful feeling that was washing over you so soon and that almost made you feel embarassed for needing him this much. 
"oh my- god" you moaned when your walls stretched to welcome him inside of you so sleekly. It took you a bit to adjust to the size before your hips met. You were holding yourself on his shoulders and the excitement was killing you along with the constant ache that was now hitting your core.
You started to move up and down his lap; his cock already twitching deep inside of you, your knees shaking while his hands were guiding your sloppy movements to meet his.
"C'mon darlin'..." he moaned, wrapping a whole arm around your waist to bring you even closer and feel his thrusts hit your deepest spots as your eyes fell shut and your grasp tightned on his shoulders. Your moans turned into desperate cries when your walls painfully clentched around his lenght, miliking it further and further.
"there you go" you finally took control of your movements and started to ride him even faster while his hands were roughtly touching all of your body, spreading waves of excitement through your whole system. Barry smiled at you when he noticed how much more confidence you started to gain to reach your own orgasm. While you worked your way he couldn't ignore how hot you looked and whne you bit your lips he captured them in his.
That kiss, was the cherry on the cake and when both of his arms wrapped around you, your cries became louder and louder until the point where his moans were nothing compared to yours.
"let go for daddy" he said close to your face to maintain the eye contact with you when your body swallowed all the tension and your muscles violently contracted against him to finally let your release squirt all over him. 
"Oh... my god" he came right after you, shooting his seed deep inside of you with a loud and painful moan that made shivers run up and down your spine before you could rest your head on his shoulder.  
"breathe babe, you did amazing" Barry wrapped his arms around you and gently kissed the side of your head while you tried to catch your breath. He had no idea how much those little things he was saying were affecting you and the inner child within you that never received such praises. He felt how tightly you were hugging and how calm your heartbeat was against his when he talked to you. 
You could tell all of that caught him off guard but he didn't hesitate to hug you tighter and you needed that hug more than anything else.
The ride back to your place (where you told him you were living) was quieter as your head rested on his jacket, against the car's door and your legs folded against the seat while the radio played and the sound of the ocean was filling your ears.
When he slowed the car you realized that your house was near and, to make sure that your parents didn't harass you with questions, you quietly hand Barry his jacket and tried to take your panties back but he held your hand as a chuckle left his mouth.
"I keep these, remember?" you smiled at him and left the car, heading to your place but Barry didn't hesitate to follow and the smile that it brought you made him smile too when he noticed it.
"are you up for another ride?" he asked as you approached him again.
"we will see"
"I'll take you out of this town" those words made your heart pound even faster, as if he knew what you needed and actully he did. He saw in you that spark of adventure that he was looking for and you saw in him someone who could truly take care of you and make you feel worth it.
"Forever?"
"If you want" he smiled and shrugged as the car stayed next to you.
"we will see"
"pack your things, I'll be here tomorrow"and with this Barry drove away, leaving that sweet taste your tongue when you first met his eyes again.
𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ ──────────── 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚
for my girl @dxddycruise I hope you like it 🎀
80 notes · View notes
pascals-doll · 3 months
Text
kill kill 3
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
joel miller x reader
🫧 lovely gif by the @daydreamingmiller !
🫧 final part | ✩°。⋆⸜ 🎧 PART 1 | PART 2
🫧 based of the song kill kill by lana del rey, written loosely around the lyrics
🫧 this is so long but i love it JOEL MILLER IS SO LANA WRITTEN
🫧 description: PORN W PLOT 💅🏽 smut smut smut mm smut! dom!joel, outbreak!joel, shower sex, brief size kink, its like rough sex but so loving, , slight religious mention (not really reader prays), no use of y/n, pet names like (darlin, doll, and princess), brief body worship (reader receiving), also fluffy, mentions of killing (a clicker interaction but its brief), mentions of guns and killing (joel kills clicker), reader is turned on by him holding his gun (also by blood splatter but no id say its more him😭)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
One, two, make it fun
Don't trust anyone
One, two, make it fun
Don't trust anyone
🫧
Joel wasnt good with his words, he was better with actions. that is why with the position he has you in your own shower, with each praise, each touch, and each kiss was enough to get you soaked. more than the shower already was.
you were naked within seconds after the sentence left your mouth. he hoisted you up onto him and carried you both into the shower while making out like deprived animals. youre hands ran through his fluffy rough brown hair, slightly tugging as he bit your lip causing you to moan into him. you finally were both under the hot showerhead, feeling his cock grow harder underneath your ass making your stomach bubble in excitement.
both of your tongues colliding together, months of yearning being release. all the anger and sadness you had inside, like a clogged faucet you felt all your problems run through you and out.
Joel’s big rough hands being the only thing engulfing youre now wet body again, you didnt care your hair had just been damp from the shower you took this morning.
you could feel your bodies stick together even more “I aint goin no where, princess” Joel says, fixing his grip on your waist and hoisting you up a bit more since the water caused you slip a little. he aligned his thick tall cock with your pussy “I promise” he devoted himself before slamming himself inside your dripping pussy.
he turns you around so your back is pressed up against your shower-glass door “ah fuck!” you yelp out, the sensation of his cock stretching out your tense hole, god knew how long it had been since youve been touched like this. you couldnt help but indulge in your already cock-drunken thoughts and this shit just started.
your mouth was agape “mhm’ good girl, almost there” he praises, his cock overtaking your warm wet slick halfway before thrusting the rest of his cock into your pussy. you saw stars being overfilled to the brim, you swore his tip was hitting your pelvis if you looked down you wouldn’t be suprise to see the smallest bump reappearing and disappearing right below your stomach.
Joels thrusts started off slow easing you to his size “such a doll for me, pretty l’thang” he worships you, taking in how your tits are bouncing mushed up against his broad pecs “Joel! joel! joel! f-uckkk!-nngnh” you moan out loudly, squirming as you feel his cock reach every crevess and corner of the inside of your cunt. the feeling of himself being the only thing.
“lord have mercy-this fuckin pussy s’perfect…made fa’me” Joel mutters out the lewdest praises.
“needed ma’doll- needed your love” you swore you heard him whine out, hips slightly stuttering mid-fucking into you. Joel had been just as desperate and with the heated arguement you just had, pouring out how you really felt.
Joel felt so guilty, so busy doing everything for everyone else. he couldnt do this one thing for you, you just needed somebody, specifically you needed that somebody to him and his old ass finally comprehended it. the last thing joel wanted was to loose you, after doing everything hes done to protect you. he was going to make sure you were happy, the way you have been doing everyime he came back.
“Oh Joel! m’so close! im gon- cu-cum!” you couldnt even speak, you were babbling to be honest. your ears being engulfed by the sound of slapping from his balls slapping hard against you with the mixture of your juices and shower water. your nails continuing to claw at his back as you try your hardest not to slip out of his grasp with his deep thrusts.
“let it all out ma’girl, ma’good girl” he coos, kissing your neck all the way up to your lips as he pumps you and himself to orgasm.
you felt like pounds of weight had been released the second you came. Joel’s groans get uncontrollable as he approaches his release, unloading his warm cum. the feeling of it coating your walls, pumping softly into you before slipping out of you. youre mind was beyond hazy causing Joel to softly chuckle.
“gotta finish up our shower princess, dont’cha worry ill help you”
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
It was the next morning.
the feeling of him in your bed, the only man you dreamed of for so long being in your bed once again was finally here.
you felt whole again even with the world infected and feening for survival, you felt like everything was gonna be okay. you had hope and sometimes in this fucked up world, it is needed.
you had woken up before him but you didn’t mind if it meant you got to wake up to your brute softly snoring beside you, one hand extending to your pillow where it was entangled with your hair only minutes ago. youre mind for once felt peace, it was comforting yet eerie. you knew, you couldn’t get too comfortable.
the feeling made you sick slightly. you slowly ease out of the bed, careful to wake up Joel.
you brought out a soft pink cushion, planted it on the floor beside your bed. you proceeded to get on your knees ontop of the soft pink cushion.
you began to pray. you werent much of a religious person but you needed to believe in something. it was more of a meditation for you. you prayed for yourself. you prayed for Joel to be looked after no matter what along with Ellie, not wanting anything to happen to them. you prayed for anything you could think of, it was just something you needed to do.
you were so focused, you couldnt hear Joel slightly move and turn around “is everything okay doll?” he asks very groggily almost mumble like. you open your eyes “yes baby, i was just doing some praying.” you say softly, getting up and putting your cushion back onto ur bed before crawling back inside into his embrace.
“our first day of many, what ya wanna do?” joel asks, his hands completely taking over you as you lay in his embrace “lets cook breakfast? i have everything we would need, two month ago i went to town and traded money for plenty of food and seed packs” you explain with a soft grin “all you had to say was no hunting, doll” he smiled out, playing with your hair. you slap his chest softly chuckling.
after spending some more time indulging each other in bed, joel thought it would be best to get up before it gets too later into the day.
Joel offered to go out into the garden to pick the vegetables but he didn’t know where exactly you planted the vegetables, so you told him to just heat up the stove as you quickly went to pick out the vegetables.
you grabbed your sharp flip knife and made your way to your backdoor that led to your fairly sized yard. it was big or anything but you had space to grow a few crops, there was a small tree and a very worn down small shed.
as you made your way outside, you look around taking in the same old scenery but it felt different. the air you were breathing in even felt different.
you felt more alive.
you began to walk toward your vegtable crops which were only a couple steps away from your shed. as you got near, you see there was a hole in your fence. it wasnt big but definitely enough for something to crawl through.
you became more cautious, proceeding carefully and quietly. you began to cut each vegtable you needed. you felt yourself tense up for no reason, hearing a rustle behind you.
you snap your neck around, you put your basket down and crouching down a little lower and thats when you heard a loud click erupt.
‘oh fuck me’ you thought to yourself.
you began to tread lightly, becoming hyper aware as you crawl slowly and quietly to your barn. each slow and slight crawl, you could hear the clicker approach the gap in your fence.
it wouldnt crawl through as long as you didnt make a noise.
that was till you did, your foot accidentally snapped a branch in half.
you had no other choice but to book it and get into your shed before the clicker ran through that hole.
once you locked yourself in, you began to load the hunting rifle you kept in there until you heard a bang ring through outside.
you felt so much relief “princess! please tell me your okay!” Joel yells out worrisome “yes! im okay! everythings okay!” you reassure, putting the rifle away.
you unlocked the barn door and then beinf greeted by joels embrace. you both spoke in unison.
“there’s s a gap in my fence”
“there’s a gap in your fence”
you sigh deeply, yet the moment still being able to bring you a soft smile “it was not there 4 days ago, it mustve been done recently.” you explain to him, confused.
“lets get inside now and ill talk to Tommy about having the far-out land being checked out” Joel says, kissing your head and grabbing your basket of vegtables.
once you both were inside. Joel began to clean his gun, unloading the clip.
now it’s not completely appropriate to be gawking at him doing this but you couldnt help yourself.
you watched his big broad built arms handle the gun swiftly, like a baby and yet like it was nothing.
“like what ya see, pretty?” he teases you “hm…maybe” you tease back, eyeing him. there was slight blood splatter on his hands and a little on his thick coat over his long sleeve thermal.
even with blood splatter the man looked so fucking sexy. you could feel your panties sticking to your slick folds, like as if he knew what you were talking about. he began to walk closer, his gun in hand but lowered “if im wrong doll, go’head tell me” he says once hes closer to your body and face, he leans down. your face becoming inches away from his.
your breath hitched, the feeling of becoming smaller and smaller as his broad built always manages to over take all of you. he slyly reaches over next to you for his gun holster, putting his gun where it is supposed to be.
you cant help let out a helpless whimper at his tease “awe darlin’ is there somethin’ ya want?” Joel gets closer and closer, his gun out the way. you dont waste anytime in lip-locking with the man, you could say you almost jumped him.
both of your lips locking intensely, starved like as if he didn’t just stuff you full the night before.
“i think i’d rather fuck ma’ breakfast this mornin’, what’ya think doll?”
🫧
One, two, make it fun
Don't trust anyone
One, two, make it fun
Make it fun, make it fun
Tumblr media Tumblr media
93 notes · View notes