#there are some jokes that land pretty badly now but i still do love this show so much and i'm so sad i'm on the final season | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ageofevermore · 10 months

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ITS BRIGHTER NOW

SUMMARY — until you met your girls, you once believed love would be burning red, but it turns out, it’s everything in between, and that couldn’t be more golden. i wanna be defined by the things that i love, not the things i hate, not the things that i’m afraid of, not the things that haunt me in the middle of the night, i just think that you are what you love

PROMPTS — “sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you” & “will you stay with me?”

WARNINGS — mentions of battle, injury, anxiety, overall just fluff and comfort for arguably the best avengers and their girlfriend

Like every relationship, yours has its ups and downs. Although most times, you’re met with nothing but outstanding partners who try their absolute hardest to maintain open communication and boundaries, they’re still human, and Avengers, and while some consider that a fairytale circumstance, not many stop to think about how challenging it can be at its worst moments. Not many people, or any at all who aren’t in the lifestyle or one similar, think about how they’re gone for days at a time, sometimes weeks or months if it’s an undercover mission, and how when they finally do get back, they’re never the same as how they left. But honestly, how could they be? They’ve done things no average citizen would ever be expected to do, seen things and handled situations that are dangerous and traumatizing, and just like anyone else, those things haunt them. Wanda is better about unpacking those skeletons in her closet then Natasha is, but the both of them take things personally, and if things go south, it’s never good.

Both of your girlfriends had been gone from the compound for days. They’d been called out to an active Hydra base in Russia, and three days later, things had gone south and they’d been in active combat since. You didn’t talk to them much, with battles and timezones and everything else that got in your way, but you had heard through the grapevine that Wanda was pretty banged up and Natasha had been left with no choice but to shoot to kill after a particularly gruesome fight. Hearing that never got any easier, especially when they were halfway across the world and had no idea when they’d return. It was missions like these that made you yearn for a simpler life. One where Wanda was an artist, Natasha probably took up something flexible like tattooing, and you did literally anything else to just have some peace and quiet and promised safety.

You had met Natasha first, after Maria recruited you to join Shield. She had been skeptical of you, as she was of everyone, but you broke down her walls as easily as you’d picked the lock to Clint’s farm the one time you were placed on a strike mission together. She had been hurt pretty badly, and his farm was the closest place to land. That had been an interesting day, no thanks to your girlfriend who was draped across your arm with a shallow bullet wound and a startled Laura who was screeching about blood on her new couch. Things with Clint were still chaotic as ever, but he eventually got over you busting his brand new lock, and the two of you joked about it now, although now you had a key so no locks had to be busted in the event of an unplanned visit happening again. When you met Wanda, she fell into your dynamic easily, and at first, neither you nor Natasha had realized that you’d kind of adopted her as a third girlfriend until a drunken night when she ended up in your bed and never left. Now, sleeping without them is hard, but you’re forced to manage as best as you can, seeing as you don't really have much of a choice.

It was going onto the sixth night without them home when you finally retired from the couch, and decided to head to bed, figuring that at two in the morning there was no chance of them coming back until the next morning at the earliest. It was hard enough when one of them was on an active mission with no return date, but when both of them were gone, it truly felt like your heart was missing from your chest and you were just going through the motions and holding your breath until they got back. Most people only had one person to worry about, but having two people to lose, with jobs in this line of work, you felt like you were always looking over your shoulder and expecting the worst. As often as they could, your girlfriends declined missions together, even though they felt comfortable on the battlefield together and it was a comfort to not be alone, but neither one of them wanted to risk not coming home to you. They didn’t have a choice this time, so reluctantly they packed up their duffles and headed for the quinjet, with a kiss on your head and a promise that they would fight to come home to you, that they would try to make it back. There were still two mugs of tea on the countertop in the mini kitchen, and although it was disgusting and the tea had gone bad, you couldn’t bring yourself to clean them up. If that was the last thing they ever touched with you, when they were just Wanda and Natasha and not Avengers, you wanted the picture of mismatched mugs burned into your eyelids for the rest of your life. They deserved to be remembered as real, genuine, soft and stubborn, sometimes infuriating but lovable and loved people, not just heroes who had a cause when things went south.

You tossed and turned for probably an hour, groaning in annoyance for how empty your bed felt without them. How had you gotten so attached? That was the one thing you’d tried your hardest not to do when you got into this, and yet here you are, in Natasha’s t-shirt and Wanda’s panties, unable to sleep because the bed feels too cold and the walls feel too big and the room feels too empty and your heart feels misplaced. You’d heard somebody say love is golden once, not burning red, and you’d never understood that until a moment like this a few years ago, when Natasha left for the first time and you were utterly alone in the tower. They were golden, they were light, they were pouring rain in the middle of the day with the sun shining and not a cloud in sight, and they are the best moments of your life that you wish you could frame in a moving picture, because no, a picture can’t say a million words when it’s them. You need every word in the dictionary and then some. You will never be able to elaborate on how much you love them without falling short, and feeling like there's still so much you could’ve said. Everything felt so gray without them. It had to be after three in the morning when you finally fell asleep, probably closer to four, but you didn’t think about how long you’d been waiting up for them, just flopped onto your back and sprawled out like a starfish, and let sleep take over so you could have a few hours without consciously missing them. Missing them was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.

You’re pulled from your sleep by hushed voices and a door closing, convinced that the hinges are louder at inappropriate times just to spite you. You try to ignore it at first, finally in a comfortable position and getting some rest after a long day of running trials with Cho, but the noises persist despite your displeasure. A sound between a groan and a whine is extracted from your chest when something bumps into the bed, and any thought of going back to sleep leaves your mind. Unlike your girlfriends who can sleep through a natural disaster and fall asleep again if god forbid it wakes them up, once your eyes open you’re awake for the day, and it seems like this is where your day starts.

Although with blurred vision from the very few hours of sleep in your eyes, you’re able make out Wanda hunched over the bed, grasping at her side that is noticeably bloody, while Natasha is digging through the drawers to your left probably attempting to find a loose fitting top for Wanda to change into. All exhaustion leaves your body at the sight of them, and you spring up, rubbing your eyes with a wince as they burn in disagreement with your current state of consciousness. Wanda’s head snaps up, on high alert, but she forces her shoulders to relax when she realizes that it’s just you and not a threat.

“Sorry, we didn’t want to wake you.” She apologizes weakly, through clenched teeth and apparent sleepiness. You wonder when the last time they got a decent amount of rest, when they weren’t looking over their shoulders in paranoia or tossing and turning in pain from an injury that couldn’t be properly treated, but you force yourself to not dwell on it too much. You can’t change the past, and neither can they, all that matters is how they recover, and how they need you to help them heal from everything they were exposed to while in Russia. You’re the clean up, another factor that nobody considers while talking about how romantic and protected you must feel having two superheroes as partners. If anything, you feel more exposed. Like all eyes are on you and a monster is always lurking in the room over.

“No, no that’s okay. I only went to sleep a few hours ago, anyway. Here.” You know that the shirt Natasha is probably looking for is the one currently on your body, and you offer it to Wanda with no hesitation, already making a b-line for her when she just barely has the strength to reach for it herself. You pull the bloodied top over her head gently, thankful that the blood it’s soaked with is dry, and her wound is covered in gauze, meaning they’d probably stopped by the medbay before they made their way in here. “A little banged up, aren’t you?” You comment, although it's rhetorical and you know she won’t tell you how it happened just yet. That usually comes a few days after the mission, when the trauma isn’t so fresh and they’re not still on edge that something else is coming for them. You help her out of her pants as well, thanking Natasha when she hands you a fresh pair of undergarments to pull up Wanda’s legs before you even have to ask.

“We’re still in one piece.” Natasha promises, coming up behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist. She’s tense all over, but she does her best to relax as she holds you, grounding herself in the moment and not the nightmares that have been going around in circles in her mind since getting on the quinjet to come home. “We missed you.” She kisses the skin beneath your ear, lingering for a few seconds before she untangles herself completely and gets ready for bed herself.

“That’s all that matters.” You reassure her, pecking Wanda’s lips gently, knowing she doesn’t have the energy or the strength to match any moment of passion right now. It’s not something that bothers you, maybe it used to, just the slightest bit, but it’s a routine you’re used to now. “I missed you too.”

“I told Steve we’re not taking any missions for a while. Especially not together.” Natasha hands you another one of her tops to slip into, and watches you throw Wanda’s bloodied one into the garbage beside your vanity. She won’t wear it again, not when it’s got so much history now, even if you could get the blood stain out. Again, it’s a routine you’ve found comfort in. The clothes they return home in almost always end up in the garbage, no time for working through PTSD that’s stitched into the fabric when you can just get something new to start fresh in.

“That’s good. I heard from Maria how tough this one was. I don’t know if I slept much the first few days.” You hate to worry them, or make them feel bad, but they hate when you’re not honest with them, and there’s nothing any of you can do about them being sent out on missions, so it’s not like you’re haroboring negative feelings toward them directly, which they understand, but your girlfriends do a great job of beating themselves up about certain things out of their control, this being one of them.

“Or at all. We still have cameras, you know.” Natasha muses, thoroughly amused when you turn a deep shade of crimson and kick Wanda’s discarded pants up toward her. Your other girlfriend, who has been noticeably quiet through the entire exchange, is curled up in bed, looking unbothered by the conversation but intent on finally getting some sleep in her own bed without the possibility of being blown to bits by the enemy.

“Spying on me, are you Romanoff?” You tease, shutting all the drawers Natasha left open and picking up all of her discarded clothes to throw them in the bin as well. She thanks you silently with her eyes that are practically bleeding with pain and adoration, but you don’t say anything. This is the least you can do for them right now.

“Gotta keep an eye on my girl.” Although it’s an easy statement, you know that it’s riddled with nothing but genuine anxiety. Both of your girlfriends are worrywarts when it comes to leaving you alone, for any amount of time but especially undetermined chunks like this mission, and although its heartwarming to be so cared for, it breaks your heart to know that they have valid reasons to be afraid. Another thing nobody even considers when they make comments toward your relationship. Wanda makes a huffing sound beside Natasha and both of your lips twitch in amusement, “On one of my girls, sorry, malysh.”

“You both should get some rest.” You comment, seeing that almost an hour has passed since they stumbled in. You won’t be able to fall asleep again, and even if you could, you’re apprehensive to crawl into bed with Wanda and accidentally hurt her more, so you have all intentions of wishing them a goodnight and going to finally clean up the mugs of tea that are resting on the counter.

“Where are you going?” Natasha wonders, watching you closely, like she’s scared that you’re going to fall apart right in front of her. You hate these moments, when they’re first getting back and they still feel like they’re stranded in a battlefield. It takes days to get back to some kind of normalcy without walking on eggshells, and by that time, they’re usually cleared to start training again and working their strength up for the next mission. One day, you just want to be done, but they’re not ready yet and that's okay.

“To clean up the tea mugs you left before you went. I didn’t have the heart to clean them up, in case…” You train off, but Natasha knows what you’re going to say and her face sinks even deeper.

“In case we didn’t come back.” She finishes your thought, hand rubbing Wanda’s back now that the woman is on her belly, seeking pressure against her wound that’s probably aching beneath the gauze. She shouldn’t be putting any pressure on it, but you’re not about to scold her right now. She needs to be comfortable, any torn stitches can easily be mended tomorrow morning when she’s well rested.

“Yeah.” You breathe out, releasing the tension that gathered in your shoulders at the simple thought of losing them. They’re okay this time, you can let go of all that pent up anxiety and dread for the time being. But it crosses your mind that there's always next time, and they might not get so lucky.

“Will you stay with me? Please?” Wanda asks, voice muffled by the pillow her face is pressed into, her arms beneath her head as she gives Natasha full access to her back, and the aching muscles that have probably been pulled a couple thousand times since leaving. Natasha works harder at releasing some of that tension, looking at you with broken eyes that you can’t say no too. Your worries are squandered when Wanda speaks again, lifting her head just enough to be able to see your face, peering into your eyes with a passion and seriousness that burns you inside. “You won’t hurt me, stop thinking that. I just want to hold my girl.”

“Ahem.” Natasha clears her throat, and Wanda lets the slightest smile pull her tired lips upward.

“One of my girls, sorry, detka.” She apologies before dropping her face back into the pillow, tightening her grip on it when Natasha hits a sore spot in her back. The redhead keeps at it, knowing how easily the Sokovian can pull her muscles when she’s lifting heavy things with just her tendrils.

“Are my thoughts that loud?” You ask meekly, abandoning your intention of straightening up the kitchen and instead coming closer to the end bed, still without pants and just Natasha’s shirt that hangs to your mid thigh.

Natasha stops rubbing Wanda’s back in order to grab at your thighs and pull you closer, rubbing the skin of your legs the same way she had been rubbing Wanda’s back. Though she’ll never admit it, you and Wanda have a sneaking suspicion her love language is physical touch, and that just maybe, physically feeling you both silences her anxieties over you just disappearing from her. Whatever her reason, neither of you protest, and admittedly crave her touch by the end of the night when you crawl into bed.

“Mhmm, I promise I’m okay. Doesn’t really hurt anymore, s’just sore.” She promised, sounding half asleep the longer she lays, adjusting her head so her neck is turned toward both you and Natasha, but her eyes are closed, a content smirk on her lips that only grows bigger when she hears you sigh your agreeance and then feels the bed dip with your weight as you climb into bed.

“Lay your ass down, or I’m gonna fall asleep sitting up.” Natasha scolds, playfully slapping your ass as you crawl over her and into the center of the bed, which is no longer warm from your body. You settle in between them, humming contently when Wanda loops an arm around your waist and then Natasha pulled you into her chest, your legs intertangling messily beneath the sheets.

“I missed this. I can’t sleep when you’re gone, everything feels so empty.” You admit, letting your eyes close even if you’re going to have a few hours of painful silence and stillness before you can even consider actually falling asleep.

Natasha presses her lips into your head and Wanda tightens her arm around your middle, neither saying anything, but not having to as their words and their presence says it all. Surprisingly, you fall asleep in minutes, and not a single one of you wakes up for the next ten hours, desperately needing the rest all together again.

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #wandanat #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff fluff #wandanat fluff #natasha romanoff hurt/comfort #wanda maximoff hurt/comfort #wandanat hurt/comfort #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #natasha romanoff oneshot #wanda maximoff oneshot #wandanat oneshot

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 14 days

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candlelight 🕯️

hii it’s me again! congratulations on 1k!! i’ve thinking about this recently (a lot) because im seriously in my miguel ohara kick🥰

but can you do shy & nerdy reader with popular miguel who are dating?? he adores making her flustered and how shy she is.

he makes her ask for his help because he knows how badly she needs him? because she’s just so stressed out about school and stuff? as always if you’re not comfortable writing totally ignore this! this is my first time requesting smut so i don’t know if it’s silly or not! but if you write it i know you’ll do good by it bc ur such an amazing writer😌

-🎀

hiiii, thank you so much!! and thank you for requesting! ahhh, i'm so thrilled you asked for miguel; i was dying to write him and probably will more, especially if people want; i hope you like it! i hope i got enough of the request in here

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader word count: 2.2k notes: modern au, established relationship, fluff, smut (i'm going to keep with marking where it gets smutty, though, bc it's like a full fluff fic before any smut, for those who only want the fluff; MDNI!) part of my 1k celebration!

so, i trickled in just a bit of spanish because i'm actually a native speaker so found the opportunity exciting; i don't want translations to be annoying in the middle of it or for you to have to scroll to the end, so thought putting them here was best: mi amor / amor mío: my love / literally something like love of mine but works more like emphasis cariño: term of endearment kind of like dear, literally affection mami: another term of endearment, more often cheeky or sexier descansa: rest dime: tell me que maravilla: a joke from the movie, literally what a marvel / wonder, kind of like how wonderful or even just amazing hope i didn't miss any others

The phone buzzing beside you startles you almost completely out of your chair. Coffee makes you jumpy. An entire pot in one night makes you… suspect what you’d be like on cocaine. You’d thought you’d put it on silent. No phone till at least one paper is done, you’d told yourself. Finals had you reeling, and you were desperate to make some progress. When you grab your phone, you see a text from Miguel:

You take your headphones off, and sure enough, a moment later hear a knock at the door. You open it to a Miguel in loose sweatpants and hoodie, dark hair messy, gym bag slung over one shoulder. Even these clothes could do nothing to hide the impressive broadness of his shoulders.

“Hey, baby,” he says through a bright smile. He kisses your cheek and steps into the apartment. “I know you were trying to focus, but I was getting worried.” “Sorry, I had my headphones on; the neighbors were being too loud again, and I really needed to focus.” “No, not the waiting at your door, mi amor. I’m talking about all of… this,” he gestures wildly around the apartment then his gaze lands on you. “Those dishes were there when I was here days ago, and even though I’m pretty sure adding anything to that tower would topple it, you haven’t. When’s the last time you ate?” “I ha—“ you begin to retort, but he cuts you off. “And I mean real food.” You start again but just give up and shrug. “And you.” He steps close to you and frames your face with his hands. You lean into his touch as he caresses your face. “Baby, you know I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, right?” You blush and look down immediately.

It used to be worse, before you got together. When you were confused about his even noticing you, and instead he’d flirted with you. Even now that he was your boyfriend, it took very little from him to fluster you.

He can’t help but chuckle at your reaction. He always does.

“Don’t you? My gorgeous,” he kisses one warm cheek, “gorgeous,” he kisses the other, “girl,” he gives your nose a concluding peck.

You nod shyly. “C’mon, cariño. Tell me,” he encourages, his tone still teasing but ever adoring. “I want to hear it." “I know you think I’m pretty,” you whisper. “Pretty? No, amor mío, I think flowers and bright colors are pretty; the ocean or a view of the mountains, too. But you, you are beauty personified.” “Miguel, stop,” you whisper through the smile you can’t help, hiding your face in his chest. He laughs lightly. His hand comes to your hair and scratches lovingly.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew that.” He gives your forehead a kiss. “Before I told you you look terrible, baby.” He starts laughing loudly and holds you closer into his hug when you smack his chest and try to pull away.

“That’s so mean!” gets muffled into his sweatshirt. “It’s not mean; it’s true. You’re still beautiful, but you need a break.” “I can’t, Miguel. I’m drowning in work still, and you know being sick last week really got me behind, and it feels like no matter how long I sit there, I’m no closer to finishing anything, and you’re right my apartment is falling apart, but every time I do something else I feel guilty for stalling on work, and, and —“

Before you can find another overwhelming thing to list, Miguel is hushing you and stroking your back in his warm embrace.

“Breathe, baby, breathe.” He sways you lightly then pulls back a bit to look into your eyes. His hands are caressing your face again, and his fingers brush lightly under your eyes, where you know there are dark circles, as he whispers, “You haven’t slept.” He sound sad rather than accusatory.

“Okay,” he starts softly. “Look, I know how much you have on your plate, and I’m not telling you you’re wrong to be stressed. I get it. But you can’t get it done like this, running on fumes and caffeine. How about this? I’m going to help you relax tonight, you’re going to forget about everything you have to do, you’re going to sleep well, and then tomorrow morning you’ll get back to it all.” “I’m fine, really. You don’t need to worry about me. And I’ll rest after finals.” Just then a car horn blares near your window, making you jump cartoonishly. “Yeah, you seem totally fine,” Miguel deadpans teasingly. “There’s nothing wrong with taking some time, Y/N… And accepting a little a help, okay?”

You nod lightly. “Great,” he gives you a quick peck and moves toward your kitchen, hunting around your barren fridge and cabinets. “Here’s the game plan then. You are going to put on your favorite playlist then go take a warm shower for as long as you like. Your kitchen is as empty as your stomach, so I am going to run down the street to pick up some empanadas then I’ll work on cleaning up this war zone a little bit when I get back.”

“You don’t have to clean.” “Stop fighting me,” he tsks. “Besides you know I don’t mind cleaning. I’m glad I’m not hearing complaints about the food at least,” he laughs. “I love empanadas,” you whisper defeatedly. He cackles. “Who doesn’t?” He kisses you as he moves past you toward the door. “Be back soon. No working! I expect you in the shower when I get back.” You quirk an eyebrow teasingly at him. You were still too shy to say anything teasing, but he’d been working you out of your shell during your time together. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t really like that aspect of being with Miguel.

His eyebrows mimic yours, and he chuckles lowly. “Don’t give me that look, mami, or you’re not getting me out the door, and you’ll miss out on the empanadas.”

You pull the neck of your shirt up to cover your face, making him laugh. You hear him bound back over to you from the door. He pulls your shirt back down, gives you a short but intense kiss, then heads out.

Miguel is back before you know it. You are in fact in the shower when you hear him return. You’re already rinsing, but you linger a little longer, enjoying the feeling of the warm water easing the stresses off your tense body.

When you leave your room to join him again, you’re immediately hit with the delicious smell of food. You see it resting on the counter and find Miguel washing your dishes.

You come up behind him, wrapping your arms around his firm torso, resting your head on his back. “Hola, cariño,” he coos. “I’m almost done.” You nod into him, humming.

When he finishes up, he turns in your arms, bringing his own large ones around you. He leans down and kisses you softly. “Hungry?”

You nod enthusiastically, and he chuckles.

You opt to eat on the sofa, getting comfy. Miguel does most of the talking. Between how tired and how hungry you are, you don’t have the energy or available mouth to talk much. He doesn’t seem to mind, happy to regale you with his silly stories.

When you finish, Miguel cleans up, holding you down and giving you a faux menacing look when you try to get up to help.

When he comes back, he settles much closer to you than he had been before. You relish his warmth, physical and emotional, and lean into him.

“Turn around,” he whispers.

“Hm?” “Like this.” He adjusts your body so you’re facing away from him and starts massaging your shoulders. You hadn’t realized just how tense you were until the amazing feeling of its being relieved somewhat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NSFW beyond this point ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Miguel,” you exhale approvingly, earning a chuckle.

“I like it when you say my name like that.” He leans in and whispers into your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck deliciously, “Reminds me of other times you end up whining my name.”

It’s shocking how quickly he works you up. You turn to look at him, and when you do, his expression shifts from teasing to intrigued.

“Oh?” he asks. He smirks. “I know that look.” He leans in and kisses your neck sloppily, and you whimper. You’re embarrassed at the sound, but he seems to like it. You feel him smile against the skin under your jaw. “I’m more than happy to give you what you want, but I need to know what that is to give it to you.” His voice is much lower but just as mischievous.

“Miguel,” you complain. “Dime, mi amor.”

“I —“ Any other words get caught in your throat. Your throat he’s busy sucking on.

“Please, baby. C’mon, I know you can. Tell me what you want.” He runs his teeth along your neck like he knows you like. You often joke he feels like he has fangs when he does. “I want you,” you tell him.

“Yeah?” “Mhm…”

“I’m yours, mami. How do you want me?”

“I want you to make me feel good.” “Oh, I’ll make you feel good. I’ll make you feel so, so good.” He punctuates his words with kisses, working his way up your neck, your jaw, your mouth. “Tell me how,” he whispers, and you feel his lips grazing yours with each word.

You want to relax, and you know exactly what relaxes you the most. “I want you to eat me out.”

His eyebrows jump in surprise. Such directness was unlike you. Your exhaustion was probably weakening your filter, and the way he was already making you feel certainly wasn’t helping it. You almost get shy about it, but when you see just how dark his eyes have gotten, see his Adam’s apple bob and his bottom lip come between his teeth, you keep yourself from shrinking away. He nods slowly, staring deeply into your eyes, then kisses you hard. “Get naked,” he says gruffly.

Already starting to do as he says, you weakly whisper, “You too?” He chuckles lightly but obliges quickly.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing him like this. He’s so beautiful. His broad chest and toned abs; his caramel skin and dark hair.

You look back at his face and find he’s noticed you staring at his body. He’s so confident, you think he’s going to tease you about it. Instead, with an adoring smile, he tells you, “That’s how I feel when I see you, too.” You lean up and kiss him, pouring all the emotions you can’t articulate in words into it.

Without disconnecting your lips, his body guides yours back down until you’re completely prone. He keeps kissing you until you’re breathless, lovingly attends to your neck and down your chest. He lingers there, his tongue making you arch your back, pushing your body up into the sensations he’s delivering. He sucks harder at your visceral reaction then hotly finishes his path down, his face now aligned between your thighs.

He looks at you intently and whispers, “Que maravilla.”

He looks up at you, eyes black storms you lose yourself in as his mouth connects with your body.

From your delightful vantage point, you watch his muscular shoulders contort as he moves to pleasure you. He looks like he’s thoroughly enjoying it, and seeing him so into it gives you confidence. You start subtly moving your hips in rhythm with his motions. His hands tighten where they hold your thighs, and, mortified, you interpret this as his telling you to stay still, so you do.

Then Miguel shakes his head hard — the vibrations of which shoot shocking pleasure into you — and he pants, “Keep doing that. Show me how you want it.” His strong grip pushes and pulls you in a movement close to what you were just doing. You take over and move faster. He’s nodding now, and the shake of it has your thighs shaking on either side of his head.

You’re making loud whimpering sounds when you yell, “Mi — ahh — Migueeell.” He doubles his efforts, picking up his pace and pressing hard against you. You come on his face, and he looks feral as he eats you through it. When you’re done, he licks up your entire slit before shuffling his body back over yours. You’re chest to chest, and his hand comes up to stroke your head. “Good?”

Your cheeks warm, and you nod shyly. He giggles and gives you a peck. “You’re adorable, mi amor.”

Your legs feel delightfully like jelly as you move them, wrapping them around his waist. He hums approvingly and gives one thigh a tight squeeze, pulling it impossibly closer to his body. He begins stroking it as he kisses you lazily. Your hands entwine in his thick hair, stroke his strong back, hold him close.

When he shifts his weight slightly on top of you, you notice his hardness against your body.

“You want me to…” you whisper, thrusting your hips up into his in place of words.

“Uh-uh, maybe in a little bit, baby, but for right now, I just want you to relax.”

He continues kisses you languidly, enveloping you in his body heat, and as you close your eyes and melt into the sensations, you’re sure you’re going to have no trouble sleeping soundly tonight.

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #1k celebration #ria1k

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icequeenlila · 4 months

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Avatar Human AU- Christmas (slight Locorro)

It's Christmas Day

Spider comes over to the Sully household

the holidays turn Neytiri soft enough to let him stay the night

Neteyam and Neytiri are in the kitchen, preparing for dinner

Jake and the rest of the kids are in the living room, decorating the tree

there are christmas songs playing through the house and Jake, Lo'ak and Spider are singing along, horribly out of tune

they think they are hilarious, but Kiri is actually considering violence

also, she is annoyed bc the boys and Tuk have no sense of aesthetic

she has her own vision for the christmas tree, but dosen't stand a chance against her family's chaos

but she's having fun ofc

Lo'ak and Spider are goofing around as always

Spider almost lands in the tree at one point, Tuk screaming at the top of her lungs

when they are done, Neteyam comes from the kitchen to lift Tuk up, so she can put the star onto the top of the tree

Lo'ak and Spider are badly pining, and painfully oblivious

Kiri is SO done with them, and Neteyam is laughing at her misery

uncle Norm is chillin on the couch, tipsy from one eggnog too many

tipsy enough to laugh at Jake's dad jokes

later that day, Tuk freaks out bc Jake forgott to set a timer for her christmas cookies

they turn out slightly on the burnt side

what is she supposed to leave for Santa now? He won't leave her any presents! Dad, you had one job!

everyone helps trying to save her cookies with a hideous amount of frosting

Tuk: "But they won't taste good!"

Jake: "Don't worry, Santa eats so many cookies in one night. Most of them, he only takes with him, so the children won't be sad. I heard we are pretty much the last house on his list, so he'll just save them for his elves. He'll never know."

Tuk is impressed with her father's knowledge

Neytiri is torn between smiling and frowning

she never was too big of a fan, telling their kids the lie of an old man climbing down their chimney, bringing them gifts

her parents never made her and Sylwanin believe in Santa

but still, she loves the way her daughter's eyes light up, and how fond the smile on Jake's face is when talking about it

so she says nothing

Lo'ak actually believed in Santa until he was fourteen

Jake was already starting to sweat when he realized his youngest son wasn't taking the hint

how do you explain to your child that you basically lied to them their whole life?

Easy. You let your daughter handle it.

Kiri did the job

Lo'ak was surprisingly chill when she finally opened his eyes

Lo'ak: "Actually, that makes a lot more sense."

Spider is super happy to spend christmas with his friends, since the relationship with his dad isn't the best

the Sully kids have a present prepared for him

they have worked on it collectively

it's a collage with pictures of all of them:

the freak trio (Kiri, Lo'ak, Spider) on the ice rink, Spider and Lo'ak to each of Kiri's sides, holding her hands so she won't lose her balance

Neteyam holding Spider in a headlock, grinning widely at the camera (Spider bet he could beat him in a fight)

Spider sitting on the ground, bows all over his hair, eyes closed shut as Tuk sprays glitter all over his head

Spider in Jake's wheel chair, screaming, Lo'ak behind him, laughing his ass off as he drives both of them down an empty steep road (it's actually a screen shot from the video they had took to send Kiri)

(they had stolen some weed from Norm before doing this, hence their stupidity)

(Lo'ak got grounded for a month after this, and Spider wasn't allowed to come over during that time)

Neteyam was the one to go to the copy shop to print out the pictures

Tuk had colored the frame herself (very colourful, with a heavy use of glitter)

Lo'ak was the one to work strictly under Kiri's command, cutting out the pictures neatly as she arranged them to look good (Kiri could get a tiny bit scary when it came to her aesthetic, Lo'ak didn't argue once)

Spider smiles and laughs over the pics they had chosen, but everyone can see that he's barely holding back tears

they don't make it a big deal, the present says it all (they care!)

Kiri secretly gifts him another framed picture, one of the time the trio had a movie nigh

the boys both fell asleep on the couch, and somehow Lo'ak ended up on Spider's chest

Kiri had taken several pictures (as blackmail)

Spider blushes madly when he sees it, and immediately stuffs it into his bag

This is vague, but it's just supposed to be something short and cute, sooo....

I came up with all of this while decorating our tree. I have a vague part 2. The Locorro part to be more clear. If I get the impression you like this, I'll give it more thought.

A happy Christmas to all of you! I hope you are well and healthy and I wish you all the best!!!✨

27 notes · View notes

qqtxt · 1 year

Text

[🐯] 1:11am wish (came true)

✿ pairing: beomgyu x you / female reader / angst if you squint, but mostly fluff, sexual innuendos but nothing explicit / 3,793 words / reader calls him ‘gyu’ / minor cursing / mentions of food and eating ✿ in which beomgyu returns back from tour, and the first place he stops by is your apartment, surprising you in the middle of the night. ✿ a/n: i couldn’t help myself! i think i like this pairing :”) my heART– [masterlist 🌸] / @kflixnet ✨

note: written in mind to be a continuation of ‘1:11am wish (you’ll stay)’ but can also be read as a standalone ;w;

seven more days, beomgyu promises. seven more torturous days and it’ll be over, he’ll be in your arms, you’ll be in his arms and he’ll never leave you (until the next announcement is released, so you’ll live in your fantasy as much as you want).

this time around, it’s... not to say it’s easier, but it feels like the tough days were easier to manage. there are still some bad days, as there are good ones. both of you were rather independent people; having alone time was something you two benefited from the time away but there... there are times where there’s crying over the phone, shakily recorded voice notes, unable to show each other’s face on video because of how badly the loneliness and longing affected the other’s face.

but there’s the good things, too. giddily smiling over each other’s photos being sent, promises like i’ll bring you here next time, just the two of us. it’s so pretty here. all i can think about is how perfect it would be if you were here with me. jokes like what if you come back and i have a dog? and beomgyu’s already barking with rejection of hell no. not yet. i can’t be fighting for your attention against a dog. i’ll lose.

then, there’s now. the present.

like... literally. beomgyu’s just landed and he has only one place on the top of his list: wherever you are.

the second they find their footing at the airport, he starts to move quickly with his manager as he detours away from the boys, promising to meet in a few days. they already see how happy he is despite wearing a mask and sunglasses, with his cap on. upon hopping into the van, luggage in the trunk, he pulls out his phone and sees the five messages that come from...

[y/n 💛] i’m gonna head to bed now, i feel tired today. goodnight and i love you, gyu 🧡🧡🧡 [1:10am]

[y/n 💛] oh sh [1:11am]

[y/n 💛] it’s 1:11!!! [1:11am]

[y/n 💛] i wish for you to come back now. right now. yes. just get on a damned plane and come back to me. [1:11am]

[y/n 💛] i’m kidding, i know you’ll be back in a few days but i just miss you, okay? anyway i’ll talk to you tomorrow 🥴 [1:11am]

with his tongue in cheek, he decides not to reply as he locks his phone and rests it on his lap. his manager is well-aware of where to drop him off, so no words are said on the way there. it does take a while, so he leans back in his seat and his foot is impatiently tapping on the floor. as he does so, he peeps at his phone and presses the lock screen button.

the time reveals to be 2:10am, but what catches his eyes is his lock screen image. if those saw it at a first glance, they won’t notice it. it’s at one of the places well-known for cherry blossoms and one might say it’s just an aesthetic photo of the scenery. but if you look closely, there’s your silhouette trying to reach for one of the flowers, only to huff when you can’t reach it and beomgyu remembers trying to help you reach it, only for the both of you to fall down into the pile of flowers and laugh when the pain subsides.

he remembers holding you, leaning in to kiss you and remembering just how magical it all felt. how it feels like when he’s with you. even in the simplest, most mundane and boring things felt fun with you. seriously, who the hell enjoys laundry? this guy, apparently, when the both of you make a dance beat with the sounds from the washing machine doing it’s last cycle and then trying to see who can hang the clothes the fastest. or how about that time–”yah, choi beomgyu, wake up.”

he snaps his eyes open with a flinch, now seeing his door is open with his manager–”oh... we’re here?”

“quickly go in before anyone sees you,” his manager chuckles, already placing his luggage on the sidewalk so that beomgyu can scurry on in. he doesn’t have too much trouble making his way up, and all the buffering in between is only making him feel more and more anxious to get to you; to see you, to hold you–oh god, to have you in his arms.

beomgyu stands by your apartment door and fumbles for the key in his wallet. he brings it with him everywhere and makes sure he has a spare in his bag just in case, but he always has one in his wallet. he fishes it out next to the slot of a polaroid image of the both of you; smiling, it was on his birthday and it was a private celebration at his parent’s house where his older brother took the photo for the pair of you–i can’t believe my brother found someone who matches his energy... can you please tame him, somehow? beomgyu scoffs a laugh when he glances at the picture, more so at the memory.

his eyes looking at the key reminds him what he’s here for and he’s so shaky he can’t even open the door properly. he manages with whatever glimmer of stability he has left and he trudges in. his eyes snap shut when he makes a bunch of noise on his way in but sighs when it all falls quiet. (well, it better be, it’s literally two in the morning)

he puts his bags down to the side quietly and removes his jacket, mask, sunglasses and cap. he gives himself a little shake and exhales deeply before he start to make his way to your bedroom. your door is left ajar, to which he places his hand on it to push it open enough for him to step through.

the light that shines from your hallway dimly illuminates the feature on your face as you slept facing the door this time. what a blessing. he resists the urge to take a photo, knowing very well he’ll mess that up, and quite frankly, he can’t think straight at the sight of seeing you.

you’re here, he’s here. this is all real. hours, days, weeks and months leading up to this moment and he’s having a heart attack on his own before passing on that virus to you. he carefully gets on his knees, kneeling before you as he has one hand on your waist, the other stroking the side of your head.

“y/n,” he calls out softly, careful not to startle you, but he’s trying so, so hard not to be impatient. “y/n, wake up.”

it takes a couple of seconds when you make sounds and shift a little, but soon your eyes peel open. he smiles at you softly, stretching out to a grin but then it starts to fade when you don’t react the way he thought you would. either squealing out of bed and jumping into his arms, tackling him on the floor. or combusting into a bundle of joy, scream, shout, anything.

it was the opposite.

you looked... sad. (and still so beautiful that it doesn’t feel fair)

“i can’t believe this is happening again...” you murmur quietly, one of your hands tucked to hug yourself, the other meekly reaching out to touch his face. he gapes at your touch and tries not to move as he watches you, seeing how sadness continues to fill your eyes the more you stare at him, thumb stroking his cheek. “it feels so real.”

he can’t stop himself, the words come out before he can filter it: “what does?”

it hits him.

it finally hits him when you say: “my dream...”

you press your lips into a thin line, swallowing thickly as a stray tear rolls down your cheek and seeping into your pillow. beomgyu frowns, his features twisting to mirror the ache in his heart as he hears your torn voice. “this one’s gonna hurt in the morning, isn’t it?”

he tries to comfort you, but quite frankly, he doesn’t know what to do.

“w-what if this isn’t a dream?” his hand reaches to overlap yours on his face, and it makes you chuckle, but he doesn’t sense any happiness in your tone. it’s just... it’s miserable, depressing, lifeless.

“i’m going crazy,” you sigh, hand slipping from his grasp and onto the bed, eyelids closing as your voice trails off, “gyu’s going to have a long-ass voice note before he sleeps tomorrow...”

beomgyu watches as you succumb back to sleep, shaking his head at the sight because he’s conflicted. in some way, it makes him happy because that’s... that’s the sight of progress right there. it hasn’t been easy to completely be vulnerable to someone, but through the days and weeks apart, beomgyu’s seeing the change through each voice note that reveals your worries and late night messages of i miss you, today feels harder than the other days... i just want to hold you.

soon, baby. i’ll be back soon, and i’m all yours then but...

but what?

i’m still all yours now, though.

gross.

it’s you staying true to promising him you’ll do your best to let him know when the days are hard, when you need extra reassurance, when you miss him a bit too much; and it’s proof right here that you’re trying, even when it’s emotionally taxing.

but the other part of him–fuck–he just wants you to believe that he’s home.

he takes a moment to think and... he knows that maybe now’s not the right time to tell you if you won’t believe him. so what he does is he heads back out to rummage through his bag to change into more comfortable attire to sleep in; a simple black shirt and shorts before he makes his way back into your bedroom. you’re still soundly asleep and beomgyu tries not to wake you (he’s not really trying, he’ll be more than glad if you woke up...) as he joins you in bed.

you shift a little, turning around to face him and he’s able to rest easy, looking at you as you took in short breaths of air and you slept. it may not have been the way he wanted to surprise you, but he’ll be honest, he was dead tired too. perhaps tomorrow will work out better. for now, he’ll take all he can as long as he’s by your side and he’s able to rest easy knowing tomorrow when you’re by his side, he knows it’s not a dream.

morning. the sunlight kisses your eyes as you peel them open with a soft grunt. it’s a weekend, thank fuck for that because you’re about to pour out your emotions to a poorly recorded voice note as your heart sinks to your gut. your arm reaches out to your table, anticipating for where your phone is but you–what–what the hell–who the hell–your eyes snap open and panic alarms you as you sit up and unknowingly–”g-gyu... no, am i still asleep?”

you give yourself a couple of pats to the face, rubbing your eyes, but each time you blink to your side, it’s... it’s not going away.

beomgyu’s here. he’s laying next to you in bed, frown on his face as he wakes up with a grumble–five more minutes... he whines, curling towards your body, arms snaking around your waist to lure you back to bed as he buries his face against the side of your thigh.

you gulp and feel your hands shaking, your body slowly spiralling into madness at the thought of him being here; unannounced, yet, fitting so perfectly whenever he’s around. you feel the emotions coming all at once, especially after that little hiccup last night at the thought of dreaming of him and now he’s actually here. it’s all hard to process that you’re not making any coherent noises because soon, your feelings get bigger and bigger, the tears start to sting your eyes and–beomgyu peeks his eyes open, about to reign his excitement all over you, only to sit up hurriedly despite sleep still heavy in his system.

he shakes his head, eyes widening in fear, “h-hey, hey hey,” he murmurs softly, hands settling on your shoulders and pulling you close to him. he makes you situate your face in the spot between his neck and shoulder, one of your legs scooting over between his legs so he can hug you closer and his arms circle around you.

almost immediately he feels at home; this is where his home is, with you, beside you, having you in his arms. but the sounds of you crying makes his heart ache because he knows the pain all too well. he knows of the nights of wanting to hold him but he’s so far away. he understands the feeling of looking at your picture and going to sleep, hoping he’ll see you in his dreams because that’s where you’re the closest when you’re thousands of miles away. he tastes the tears he cries in the shower when the longing is too hurtful and he doesn’t want to tell anyone else but you–so he resorts to masking it from others.

so seeing you like this, hearing you like this, it’s a relief being able to cry in each other’s arms but it still pains him every time you cry.

he gives you all the time you need... after all, he’s the one who came uninvited –even though he knows he’s welcomed all the time–but it’s not everyday you wake up to having your significant other return from a long tour and the next morning when you wake up they’re in bed with you. your cries slowly fade as you let go of all your pent up emotions and your hands can finally start searching for him that he decides it’s a good time now to start talking.

“is my baby done crying so i can get a good look at that pretty face?” he coos into your ears, making you huff as you nudge him by the chest so he can lean back to look at you.

he already has this shit-eating-grin on his face, even though he looks like he’s shed a couple of tears but you’re clearly on the worse end here. as you rub your nose with the back of your hand, beomgyu reaches up with his free hand, the other holding you around the waist so he can cup your cheek, brushing the tears away with his thumb.

“augh, look at you, still so cute and gorgeous.”

you still can’t speak, the shock numbing you to the point that even looking at him in the eyes is about to make you cry again. he shifts his position so that he’s straddling you, sitting on your stretched out legs on the bed and he cups your face in his hands, making you look up to him. the light that illuminates his silhouette makes you wary, your hands resisting to hold him because what if, what if he’s not really here?

he senses your hesitance and pouts, lightly squishing your cheeks, “you’re hurting my feelings here. not even gonna hold me? after so long?”

he loosens his hold on you and leans closer, so that you can reach up to touch his face. after a couple of seconds, and him nuzzling against your palm, you reach up with your other hand and hold his face. it’s a long pausing moment, looking at him like this, holding him like this. your heart slowly allows the pain to subside, sinking in reality as this... this is real.

beomgyu’s here.

he’s home.

he yelps when you lunge forward, and he has to brace himself to catch you before the both of you topple over and off the bed. he starts to laugh happily, even when you’re crying in his neck–a different reason this time–and it all welcomes him home. the quiet sighs, the deep intakes of air you force into your lungs, the grabbing; the desperation to feel him, more of him, reaching wherever you can as he holds you up in his arms. he longs for it, his heart, feels full at the feeling of you appreciating his presence so much, he tries not to cry, not now, at least. he’ll know he’ll crack later, but he’ll resist now to be that pillar for you.

he shifts around so that he’s able to lay down on the bed with you still clinging onto him, laying on top as you take all the time you need to recuperate with the fact he’s actually here. he strokes the back of your head, down to your lower back, and all over again in a calming gesture. the heavy breathing ebbs away, and soon, the calmness takes over; happiness radiating when you move yourself from chest and sit up on his lap.

he sits up as well, and since you’re straddling him, it’s easy to come face-to-face with close to no room between your bodies. the change of position surprises you, but he watches as how adoration and infatuation fills your eyes at each waking moment that it’s not a dream to you. your hands hold his face again, and he’s able to smile up to you this time.

there’s so much you want to say, but you know you won’t be able to coherently form it now. with the way beomgyu’s looking up to you, blinking in a daze, you know he somehow can read your mind.

you feel smaller... your face, slimmer than in the photos, videos, fan cameras... you look tired, but happy. tired happy. you’re here, that’s the most important. you’re here, oh god, you’re actually here.

you say so much without saying anything at all, and it tugs on his heartstrings the longer he looks at you, as if he’s trying to memorise this very image. the light that outlines your silhouette almost scares him that this could’ve been a dream for him too. but as you kiss his forehead and lean your forehead against his, it’s a reminder that it isn’t.

“didn’t hurt in the morning, did it?” beomgyu says, raising a brow at you as his hands squeeze your waist.

he watches as confusion morphs your features, a small pout forming.

“how’d... how did you know that?”

it seems like you recollect your dream, especially when you sound so skeptical that he’s able to reference something that... that was... wait. wait a fucking–

“i’m hurt, you know? you said you’d hug me, kiss me senseless, maybe even let me fill you up when i’m back but when i am, all you do is go back to sleep.” he feigns being hurt, but he can’t help himself to laugh when you don’t react in the way he thought you would. your eyes widen so much, it doesn’t look like you’ve been crying for the past thirty minutes.

“t-that was real?!” your jaw drops, body frozen, “you were already home?!”

he pouts, and nods.

“but you just went back to sleep. such a meanie.”

beomgyu can only watch, living in the moment and he’s always, always going to remember this for the rest of his life. the surprise on your face, the shock coming in a second wave of disbelief... but all in the best ways possible. your mouth tries to formulate words, your mind seems to disconnect from your entire being–you have indeed, been bamboozled.

he gives you a moment, only to notice that he probably lost you. he’s made you lost your train of thought. the disconnect was very much visible.

“you need more time to process things, baby?” he grins up to you, clearly enjoying every second of this, but when you still don’t know what to say.

he tests the waters by shifting a little, and when he sees that you’re responsive, he carefully tries to lay you down beneath him. as his elbows rest between your head as he holds himself up, him situating between your legs, you gape at him when there are telltales of what’s about to escalate. your hands reach up to hold onto his shoulders, then going through his hair.

innocently, at first, because it’s been so long, but the switch in beomgyu’s eyes as your fingers go through the strands, the way your eyes look up to him in admiration, then as you try to scan his features, he’s fixated on your eyes, nose, cheeks... lips. the second his eyes trail from your lips back to your eyes, you know it’s game over when he leans down to kiss you.

thank goodness it was a weekend... because it was going to be a very long weekend now that beomgyu was back.

((”how could you leave me like that?” beomgyu huffs, standing by the door of your kitchen as you put the pot to boil water. he watches as you turn around, clad in just one of his shirts over your body and a pair of shorts on, hair still a mess but god, this is the sight beomgyu wishes to see all the time. he stands there with his arms crossed over his bare chest, a pair of boxers lining his hips, small frown on his lips.

you chuckle and spread your arms out, already cooing at him to enter your embrace he very much willingly runs towards.

“i got hungry, you’re probably hungry, too.” your arm circles around his shoulders, the other ruffling his hair, “just wanted to make some ramen for us.”

he sighs into your shoulder, about to comment on how lucky he is but then his mind overtakes to something else when he–”i probably didn’t wear you out enough since you’re able to come here by yourself.”

he feels you stiffening in his hold and you try to resist when he pulls back. with not much resistance, he manages to lean back with a smug look on his face, especially when you don’t respond.

“i wonder...”

“w-what?”

“you don’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, right?”

“choi beomgyu, i’m warning you. we’re meeting the boys in a couple of days!”

he snickers, pulling you close to him by the waist when you try to lean away, “yeah, in a couple of days... you should be able to walk by then.”

“...”

“...no objections?”

“can we at least eat something first? i’m starving...”

when you blink up to him with a small pout, he relents with a sigh, “augh, fine. you’re lucky you’re cute.” he leans in, whispering into your ears, “but after this meal, though, i’m having second rounds of you.”))

#kflixnet #txt scenarios #txt x you #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x you #choi beomgyu #beomgyu

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crowborn666-writes · 10 months

Note

I have two scenarios for you, one from mha and one from kny 😌

let's go with dabi/touya first because he's mad cool (and traumatized but we vibe with that here): heroes are getting suspicious that someone probably must be helping touya, and since you've helped him on multiple occasions as his lover (whether it was to get away from heroes, patch him up when injured or similar acts of assistance), as much as you don't want to leave him on his own, you come to the conclusion it's better you disappear for a certain while just in case, plus it's better that way. In the case where you'd be caught, they'd take you away and you could not help him at all anymore, whereas if you left for a little while you'd still be able to help him, which is what you think is best, despite having to say goodbye for some time. So, one evening, while day shifts to night, you ask him to meet you in a secluded area to explain that to him and also say goodbye, which I can imagine the dialogue ending somehow like this: “don't be too careless while I'm gone, yeah?” “who do you take me for?” “I knew you'd say that... well anyway, you better be waiting for me” “your wish is my command, my love” etc. but the thing is, the whole time, he looks laid back, almost aloof, but deep down he really doesn't want you to leave, and he hopes having that demeanor and joking/flirting it out will attenuate the pain but it doesn't really, although I do believe their parting scene would be beautiful.

then I'm thinking of muichiro (still amnesiac) coming back from a mission and having this irresistible urge to go see someone but without knowing who, and that really frustrates him until he sees you and everything suddenly makes sense, you were the one he wanted to see so bad, and that's when he realizes how much you mean to him <3

hope you like these, and good luck with the rest!

(I was gonna write them both, but when I started Dabi’s my brain said “no :)”, so that’ll for a later date maybe ^^)

(First time writing for Muichiro too, so he may be ooc!)

Remembrance

Muichiro x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Platonic

Summary: Muichiro knows he wants to see someone, but he just can’t remember who.

~~~~~~

Muichiro shuffled through the gate to the Butterfly Estate, wincing slightly at the wound in his side. As soon as he set foot through the gate, he could feel it.

He needed to check on someone.

…Wait, but who…?

He shook his head. He’d… figure it out, somehow.

It wasn’t long before a nurse came rushing to his battered form, guiding him inside and immediately setting out to dress his wounds.

That feeling again, it was nagging at him.

Another shake of his forgetful head, hands taking the cup of medicine and bringing it to his lips.

Hands balled into fists, Muichiro was struggling with that nagging feeling. Who did he want to see so badly?!

He walked through the garden slowly, originally taking a calming stroll before his mind began nagging at him. His eyes lifted at a clash of swords, spotting Sanemi and Rengoku sparring together a ways away.

He let out a soft sigh, continuing his walk with furrowed brows.

“Muichiro!”

Said boy lifted his head, eyes landing on you.

Immediately, it was like the never ending fog was lifted.

You.

You were the person he wanted—needed to see.

An easy smile overtook his face, all previous frustration immediately forgotten.

“Hello (Y/n).” He greeted once you were close enough, watching as you dig into your pocket.

“I’m so glad to see you’re back safe and sound! I had found this pretty blue stone just after you left and I’ve been dying to give it to you!” You rambled on as usual, your voice welcome to Muichiro’s ears as you passed on a blue and white stone to his awaiting hand.

“It looks like the sky.” He was grinning now, eyes full of warmth when he looked back up to you.

You smiled back just as brightly, happy to see his smile.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #muichiro tokito #muichiro x reader

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kassiekole22 · 1 day

Text

Joy Ride

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

Pairing: Brian O'Conner X Fem!Reader

Description: Brian finds you walking home late one night and offers you a ride, which turns into a night-long joy ride around Miami.

Warnings: Fluff, Speeding, Friends Or Future Lovers? (You Decide)

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Sooooo, I watched 2 Fast 2 Furious for the first time a around a month ago and this guy has been on my mind ever since. I have always really loved Paul Walker so this was bound to happen eventually. 😂 I don't know if I plan to write more for him or if this will just be a one time thing, but I have been working on this fic for quite some time now and I'm happy to finally be posting it. More to come from other beloved characters soon! Enjoy the fic and if you want more Brian O'Conner fics in the future, let me know in the comments or inbox! 🖤 (Also did any of you get the reference in the name? 👀)

Main MasterList: 🖤

Kassie's Angels: @mornandil, @lorebite.

(If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

2002

The air is pretty cool for a night in Miami, but I don't mind. I walk with my hands in the pockets of my hoodie, protecting them from the slight chill. It's nothing too intense, but I haven't been used to being in cooler temperatures for awhile now.

I walk quickly down the sidewalk as a few cars pass from time to time. The sounds of their engines make my fingers and feet tingle a little, my body missing the feeling of the steering wheel gripped in my fingers and the gas pedal under my foot.

I wrecked pretty badly during my last race, resulting in my car becoming too banged up to drive. Most street racers have other cars to fall back on. Unfortunately for me, my girl was all I had. Now I'm left to walk on foot until I can get enough money to fix her.

The ambiance in the street is pretty calm until I hear the familiar rumble of a very specific engine approaching my side. To my surprise, that iconic silver and blue Nissan Skyline pulls up, slowing down to drive at my walking speed. But the slick paint job or glowing underbody isn't what makes it difficult to look away. The driver is none other than the man who beat me in my last race, Brian O'Conner.

I'm met with a kind smile as he rolls down his windows, his bright blue eyes glancing up at me from the shadows of the interior. There is just something about that man that draws me in. I could never tell what exactly it was, but it pulled me in his direction like a bee to a flower every time I was in the same location as him.

"Ey, need a ride?" He queries in a rasied voice, nearly shouting over the Skyline's growl.

Though it's tempting, I don't want to throw a wrench in any plans he may have. Knowing him, he has another street race or date to get to at this hour. So, despite the aching pain in my feet that is screaming in protest, I respond casually, "Nah, man. I'm good. Home's not too far away anyway, y'know?"

Even though it wouldn't take him too long, it would be pretty pointless to drive only a couple blocks anyway. He takes a mere second to let my words sink in and find an answer, his eyes hopeful as they are taken off the road and landing on me once more.

"We don't gotta take you home. The night's still—" He checks his watch, and his eyes widen slightly as he realizes the time. "—Well, middle-aged, but that don't gotta stop the fun."

I can't contain a faint chuckle at his dumb joke, rolling my eyes as I do so. The next thing I know, my feet are subconsciously coming to a stop, and he gently lays on the brakes. His car is also stopping right beside where I now stand, but the engine still purrs softly to alert all of its consciousness.

"Ah, c'mon, girl. Let's live a little, eh?" He flashes me that dangerous half-smirk that beckons me forward into mischief. It now dawns on me that he might not have the intention of taking me home, which is intriguing in a way.

I contemplate my options for a moment. The only thing waiting for me at home is a couple bottles of beer and some cold pizza left in the fridge from the night prior. It seems like I've been spending most of my time alone lately. Maybe it would be good to spend some time in good company.

"Alright," I give in with a subtle but still noticeable sigh, backing down in my mental debate.

He reaches across and opens the passenger door for me as I round the car, its headlights illuminating me for a brief moment as I cross in front of the bumper before hoping into the seat offered to me. It felt weird being in the left seat and not having a steering wheel before me. I could never get used to those foreign imported cars.

But regardless, it sure is a beauty. The leather interior smells oddly fresh and calming, with a faint hint of exhaust filtering through the open windows. It's clear he just cleaned her up. Brian was always the type to take care of his rides.

I pull the seatbelt across my chest and lock it in securely, mentally preparing myself for the wild ride I know damn well he is about to take me on. He looks at me and flashes me that cocky yet proud smile as he revvs the engine for only a moment before taking off into the night.

With windows down and speed carrying us, I feel like I'm floating on air. The soft breeze I felt only moments ago is now a fast wind in my hair, and the soft ambiance of the nightlife in Miami is now disturbed by a machine growl.

I glance over at him, and it's as if time slows for just a minute as I take in how happy he is. He's a simple man. He doesn't need the fancy things in life, just a fast car to make the corners of his lips part into that iconic grin I have grown to love.

"Wanna get fuckin' nuts?" He asks me, his voice taking me out of my thoughts and putting me back into reality. That's when I notice that mischievous look in his ocean blue eyes, their pupils blown wide with adrenaline.

Hm... Blue and full of adrenaline, like the blood pumping in our veins.

"What?" I blurt out, not fully comprehending what he is asking, until my gaze wanders down to where his thumbs hovers over the nitro buttons.

I look at the road ahead, seeing that it is completely barren of all life, and I can't help but smirk at the thought of what he is suggesting. It's a dangerous game—playing with speed in such a way—but a thrilling one, for sure.

Taking my eyes off the road ahead to look back at him, I notice the hopeful glint once again in his eyes, only pushing my thought process toward wanting to comply. So without a second breath, I cheer, "Fuck yeah!"

With a simple click of two buttons at once, we are off like a rocket in space. Suddenly, the street lights look like comets, and the lines on the road are just blurs of colors. It's oddly beautiful in a way, and I marvel at how it ignites my soul with such a unique feeling, which I can't possibly seek from anything else. My fingers dig into the sides of my seat as my heart pounds against my ribcage like thunder, both overwhelmed but thirsty for more of this intoxicating rush.

Though Brian only lets this last for a moment, just seconds passed that will remain with me for an eternity. We laugh as the car slows to a semi-normal speed again. My smile is so wide, I can feel my face begin to hurt.

But I don't care. I am just so high on the thrill that my mind is lost in a cloudy space of euphoria. It's crazy how the night went from a quiet walk home to taking a joy ride with one of my rivals, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Once our laughter dies down, the soft purr of the engine is the only thing heard yet again as we both seemingly get lost in our own thoughts. What is he thinking? I wish I knew. The only thing on my mind is how happy I am. It isn't until a couple minutes later that he speaks his mind, taking a deep breath before his lips finally form the words he has been pondering.

"We should do this more often," he suggests in that nonchalant tone he carries quite regularly for someone with such excitement in his life. "Y'know, hang out outside the racing world? You're a cool girl."

I can't repress how my smile softens for a moment at his words as my eyes flick over in his direction while a million responses filter through my mind. This guy is a legend—a local celebrity, if you will. To have this opportunity is an honor. However, I don't necessarily get the vibe of entitlement from him. Instead, his atmosphere reflects something else—something friendly and inviting.

"And you're a cool guy. I'd love to hang with you more often." I reply, trying to sound chill but coming off way more sincere than intended. Though he doesn't seem to mind, in fact, he seems to be pleased with my response.

The next thing I know, he is pulling into a public beach. Its sands are abandoned by any human life due to the lateness of time, though the footprints of the visitors that day still remain like ghosts of the past, their memories carved in the sand until they get washed away by the waves.

He locks the car in park, unhooks his seatbelt, and gets out. I watch through the windshield as he rounds the side of it to rest back on the hood. My eyes study him as he lifts himself to sit on the hood, not once looking back to see if I leave the car as well. It's almost as if he expects me to.

So to fulfill his silent expectations, I swing my door open and hop out after freeing myself from my seatbelt, nearly stumbling as the ground is unexpectedly unsteady where I stand. My feet sink into the sand, and I'm grateful I chose to wear boots tonight over anything else.

Once out of my sticky situation, I take a moment to appreciate the freshness in the air—the sweet smell of the ocean before me for just a second. After approaching him, I rest beside him on the hood, watching the waves crash before us. It reminds me that life is quite like the sea. It's unpredictable, a little scary at times, but beautiful in many unique ways. I release a soft breath, my body relaxing in this calming moment.

"I remember the first time I saw you pull up in that black Trans Am to the race. Fuckin' engine and bass on your stereo roaring over the sound of the crowd." He chuckles while he reminisces about old memories.

"Buni," I correct him as I smile fondly, thinking about the beauty that's currently under a tarp in my garage, just waiting to be repaired and set free on the road once again.

"Yeah, Buni." He parrots me in an almost teasing way. I know he finds the fact that I named my car ridiculous, but I can see it in his eyes that it amuses him all the same. "You're something else, (L/N). A damn good racer, though."

My heart flutters at the compliment, and I feel my cheeks heat up with this familiar warmth that only he ignites in me best. The soft breeze blows through my hair as I think of a reply, running through my strains like an angel's fingertips. But it's not the breeze nor the location that has me in such a calm and joyful state.

I continue to study him—the way his blonde curls blow in the breeze, the corners of his lips turning up ever so slightly to show his contentment, his biceps flexing ever so slightly as he crosses his arms over his chest. It amazes me how all the different shades of blue in his iris reflect the scene before us. It's like I could literally drown in them each time I gaze into them to admire their beauty.

"Yeah? You and your Skyline ain't so bad either." I finally quip with a small bit of sarcasm dripping from my tone after forcing myself out of where my mind has disappeared to for a short time. He smiles softly at my words, because it's evident how I really feel about him. He knows, and I know that, but I don't really care anymore.

We talk until sunrise and watch as the black sky fades into orange and pink, blending with the stars to make them barely visible. Though they are out of sight, I know they still shine brightly above us, like angels waiting for us in heaven. It's quite special—maybe even magical.

The sea reflects the morning sun as it rises from the horizon, its golden rays shining upon us as we remain on the hood of the car. It's just us out here in our own little world. If I learned anything from last night, it's not the place that makes a moment special, but the person you share it with.

I don't know where this road will take us. I know it will be a long one—with plenty of traffic and bumps ahead—but the ride will be an enjoyable one with a new friend in the seat next to me as we speed through it all. And if we happen to get separated some point along the way, I know in my heart that I'll see him again.

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

#2 fast 2 furious #brian o'conner #brian o'conner x reader #KassieBrianOConnerFanFics

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supernovafeather · 2 years

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Hi love your fics:) I had an idea for a fix where Poe Dameron is injured badly (like idk broken legs) in a x wing crash and the reader has to comfort him and keep him calm until help arrives😊 idk very angsty and fluffy.

Here is the fic, hope you'll like it ! Not as angsty as you may have expected but hope you'll like it !

Never Changing

Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Content: Injury (broken leg), boyfriend/girlfriend deeply in love ,fluff, angst.

Poe's scream pierces the relative quietness of the rain forest surrounding you like a coffin and silences the rare animals that had just found their voices after the loud crash landing of your X-Wing.

It's not only ambiant wetness and warmth that causes that sticky and thick perspiration to cover his skin, it is also due to the horrendous pain he is in.

Certainly a broken leg you think as you lay him on the ground of the cave you managed to pull him in. Swollen but not open.

"I don't want to look I don't wanna I don't wanna no no no."

"Your bone hasn't popped out don't worry." You say calmly.

Determined to keep his eyes tightly closed and his face directed to the rocky ceiling, he ignores your attempt to calm him down. You can witness his pain pretty easily and know from experience how painful that is, but you don't need him to panic like that, especially not now.

"Poe. Poe listen to me I know how to take care of it the time we get some help. I need you to stay calm, breathe and don't move."

"Please don't cut it off please don't." He whines before opening his eyes big at the suffering of the slightest movement of his ankle.

"Stop it Poe it's not the moment to joke." You growl as you take two pieces of metal that landed up there.

"No please no..."

This is when you understand that Poe, in his refusal to see what actually happened to him, is convinced that he is about to lose his leg. There is no trial with humor to lighten up your mood. He is genuinely afraid.

"Poe, Poe look at me." You say as you kneel by his side and cross his anxious gaze. "We are going to save your leg. It must have broken. Your bone is still inside, no open wound. The area is just swollen. I am going to keep it as still as possible. For now I don't see any infection or..."

"Ok ok ok do what you have to." He hisses between his clenched teeth as he rests his sweaty head against the ground.

"Don't move. I need to find something to hold everything."

Soon enough you replace the two metal pieces with two wooden sticks much straighter than them, and find a few rests of belts that are going to maintain them. At least you hope so.

"I'm back." You say as you kneel next to his shaky form. "Calm down, breathe in and breathe out. It's important I need you to calm down. It's going to make everything easier for us."

"Am I getting on your nerves ? Am I can you tell me please if I do please Maker it hurts like really."

"I'm going to put the sticks on each side of your leg then use the belts to maintain them so it keeps your leg in place."

"Oh no not that..." he whines again.

"We have no choice, still better than removing everything."

He hisses as he lets you do what you intended to, your jacket soon both in his mouth and all over his face to make him stop screaming as you readjust your primitive gear as good as you can. Between the adrenaline leaving your veins, his pain you are causing and the uncertainty of the time of your rescue, you are starting to feel overwhelmed.

"Here it is." You whisper loudly before removing your jacket from his pale and offended face. "Here it is. That's the best I could do."

It looks pathetic but it's actually pretty decent. You check a few times if it doesn't obstruct the blood circulation, then wipes the sweat off his forehead as his chest rises and falls deeply, his fists grabbing stones and dirt under the brief surge of pain.

"I can't believe we got so unlucky." He groans as you run your fingers though his dark curls to remove them from his face. "We got cursed by some forgotten Gods on that planet I can't believe it. It's absurd."

"It happens. It happens don't worry, once back at the base you are going to be alright."

"Hold my hand please." He sighs.

You do as requested and scoff as he grabs your fingers in a firm fist almost crushing them as he stops breathing.

"It's your beauty that's breathtaking absolutely not that kriffing leg that feels like in fusion." He excuses himself.

"Oh well I see you're still strong enough to be sarcastic."

"Uh ? No no no honey no I didn't want to imply you're ugly or anythiiiiiing." He hisses again as you scratche his head to divert his attention the best you can. "You're wonderful, future pin-up for our Squadron."

"Am I a vulgar pin-up for our propaganda now ?" You raise an amused eyebrow.

"Not like any other, you're a warrior pin-up with a huge ship with huge cannons. My girl has huge cannons and I'm proud of her for that."

"You know that maybe having a broken leg is saving you from a much darker fate ?"

"That's a threat and I'll send Leia after you if you keep threatening your beloved Commander. And what is it that causes such resentment towards pin-ups, I thought you were the nicest woman alive." He pouts.

"I don't have big cannons though."

"Oh don't be so sure." He grins before moving his hips a little to limit his pain. "But please give me painkillers or make me pass out."

"I can't." You admit sadly as you scratch his scalp again. "I'd like to make you shut your mouth sometimes but at least it proves me you are not in a desperate condition right now."

"Even when I want to say I love you ?"

He knows what he is doing and despite the disgusting and loud noise coming from his mouth as he keeps shifting his leg you smile in disbelief.

"Poe, please stop moving it won't help. It can even make things much worse. You don't want it to go through your leg, right ?"

Panic takes over his eyes and finally, he stops. His silence lets you more at peace with your thoughts and you check regularly the information sent by the rescue team. They are getting closer and closer, but you will have to wait for at least an hour. You manage to find some dry fabrics to wipe his forehead off, singing a song your heard a long time ago, so long ago that it is a pale imitation of the chorus repeated dozens of times in a row. At least it makes him more relaxed.

"If I could I'd fall asleep and ask to marry you in the morning." He comments.

"Don't be silly Poe," you chuckle, "you deserve more than a song."

"I do think I deserve a little song because I've been pretty much brave until now. But do I deserve my girl ?"

You can't look away from his sweet gaze. His lower eyelid may get agitated by spasms from time to time but it doesn't demonize the raw emotion in his pupils.

"You do deserve me Poe, and I hope I deserve you."

"You deserve me. So what about this marriage ?"

"Wait... were you actually serious ?"

Flabbergasted, you watch his nod. This simple movement is much more impactful for you than the noise of reactors from afar, growling louder by each second.

"Well not right now but... later ? I really want to things properly. Why not while you kick their Supreme Leader's buttocks with your amazing skills ?"

"You're talking about a marriage with the most awesome man of the galaxy and you joke at the same time ?" You start to sob.

"Don't cry sweetie no no no, please no don't cry !" He laughed before wincing at the pain. "And come on I'm stressed to ask this to the most awesome woman of the galaxy, you should see how sweaty I am from that proposal and not from that kriffing leg."

Why is he so casual about all this ? The both of you could have died and he's there joking ?

"Wait was that the actual proposal and you're waiting for an answer ?"

"Uh no, but why not ?"

"I love you idiot. Of course I want to marry you !"

"Oh ok. It honeymoon for after I heal ok ?"

"That's how I know you're seriously injured." You sigh as you wipe off your own forehead with the back of your sweaty hand. "Oh Maker you can't make things easier can you ?"

"Never." He grins before inhaling brutally. "But I'll make up for all that delay."

The moment the rescue team circles high above the cave you get out of it, gesturing them exactly where you were. Maybe you look all too happy by bouncing on the rocks and screaming orders to them when you could just gesture things to them, but you need to do something to express your excitement. After all becoming Mrs.Dameron is going to be an interesting adventure.

- - - -

Thank you for reading, please comment and reblog if you liked it ! 😊

@salome-c @stevenngrant @lavenderluna10 @one-hell-of-a-disappointment @dailyreverie @thecursivej @lady-targaryen @general-latino @harrys-tittie @laura-naruto-fan1998 @later-gators12

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you

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ccss10987 · 8 months

Text

Happily Ever After

Chapter 4: Plans

Links: Chapters 1, 2, 3, 5, Also on A03

Previous - Next

Logan led the way to the dragon stalls with Remus and Janus. “The dragon stalls are where we’ll discuss the plan details. Patton, please walk Roman and Virgil to my library.” Logan said, adjusting his hold on the large bag of dragon feed.

Roman whined. “How come they get to see the dragons first?”

“Cause we’re better.” Remus started clenching his fists excitedly. “Now, make with the dragons!”

“We’re not here for dragons!” Logan yelled. “I brought Roman and Virgil here to help protect this town, not to see dragons.”

“You’ll get to see the dragons real soon, kiddo.” Patton gave Roman a few reassuring pats on the shoulder. “You deserve a few pats on the back for your patience though.” he laughed.

Roman and Virgil chuckled a little at the joke while Logan groaned loudly. “First of all, that joke was terrible. Second of all, I’ve never met someone more impatient.”

“What do you mean? Remus is right here.” Janus smirked.

Remus gasped loudly. He put his hand on his chest in fake hurt. “How dare. Betrayed by my best friend, again!”

Virgil flinched. “Maybe we should focus a bit more?”

Remus snorted at this comment.“ I have never focused on anything in my life.” he cackled.

“Yes, focus. Super focused.” Patton nodded. “Let’s go! It’s not technically a library. It’s more Logan’s personal book storage. It has way more books than the actual library though. I’ve been talking to him and trying to persuade him to donate some of them, but he just won’t budge. He’s basically binded to his books, if you know what I mean.” Patton joked.

Logan sighed. “I’ll be glad when you book it to the library.”

Patton gasped. “Book pun!” he exclaimed. “I’m glad we’re on the same page!” Patton exclaimed as Logan fled away from the rest of the group. Remus and Janus followed Logan inside the building while Logan quickly commented, “That wasn’t on purpose!”

The group split up. Janus, Remus and Logan with the dragons and Roman, Virgil, and Patton in the library.

“You two are going to love Logan’s library.” Patton told Roman and Virgil as they walked away from the dragon enclosure to give the other three some space. “And I’m gonna make sure you know what you’re getting into Roman. There’s a ton of books in there showing people who break their scripts in a good light, but there’s still the script-following history books as you two probably know them. Logan says a good library has something to make everyone angry.”

Patton stopped in front of a homey looking stone building with wooden double doors. They didn’t have to walk far away considering both properties were on the same piece of land. It was a fairly small house, the dragon enclosure taking up most of the land, but it still looked expensive.

“Is Logan a noble or something? I don’t think I would even be able to afford this.” Virgil asked.

“I don’t know. I never asked him.” Patton shrugged his shoulders. “Besides, I don’t know much about real estate. I built my first house out of candy.”

“Oh, yeah.” Virgil said.

“What’s a house made out of candy worth anyway?” Roman wondered aloud.

“Don’t know. It goes stale over time.” Patton laughed.

Patton opened one of the wooden doors to the library.

“Holy shit.” Virgil said, jaw dropping.

“Language!” Patton scolded, giving him a look.

The library was a tall, round foyer. The walls were covered floor to ceiling with books. The middle of the room looked inviting, a few comfy chairs with ottomans and coffee tables. The floor was covered in fluffy rugs while the ceiling was covered in a star chart.

“This… this doesn’t seem like Logan. Logan seems strict, and well, emotionless. This all looks fluffy and pretty.” Virgil commented, staring in awe.

“I wanna roll on the floor so badly.” Roman said.

“I helped decorate.” Patton smiled. “After I stopped making potions and things like that, I dove heavily into making textiles. I thought the fluffy rugs and pillows really brought the whole room together.”

“What about that?” Virgil asked, pointing to the ceiling.

“Oh! That star chart was all Logan. He loves space. If only there was a way to go there. That would be so cool. Scary though… filled with darkness.”

While Patton excitedly showed Virgil around the library, Roman was more interested in finding the history books. Never being here before made finding them difficult. After skimming through the titles on the spines at eye level, he found something of his interest.

“Famous Script-Breakers Throughout History written by Emile Picani.” Roman whisper-read to himself. Roman found himself curled up in one of the comfy armchairs in the room with a fluffy pillow against his chest while silently skimming the pages.

“Roman read through all this evil propaganda that Logan filled his mind with.” Roman’s narrator told him. Roman sighed. This guy again. And to think his narrator had been relatively quiet so far.

“I’m just saying that this Logan person is extremely untrustworthy. Friends with a witch, he’s a keeper of dangerous beasts that destroy villages. This list goes on. He won’t even tell you his plan, but he plans to risk your life for it. Obviously I wouldn’t let you die though. You’re important, the main character. People need you and love you, Prince Roman.” Roman’s narrator went on.

Roman was filled with a sense of pride. He liked being needed and loved, but he had to roll his eyes at this. The “witch” and “dangerous beasts” seemed fine to him. Sure he was annoyed that Logan didn’t tell him what the plan was, but he was sure he would be a hero in the end.

“Not to mention that he plans to ruin everyone’s happily ever after, not that you know about what he’s conniving with those two thieves.”

That made Roman tense up. He didn’t know what he was talking about with those two. And those two hated Roman, for good reason. Roman hadn’t been the most chivalrous towards them after all. And Roman did agree to risk his life to stop narrators, which in turn would mean that no one would have a destiny or a happily ever after. Would that be better or worse than only some people having it? All this thinking and worrying was making his head hurt.

“Simple solution. Roman put the book back and went back to the dragon enclosure and listened in on the three obvious villains of the story.”

Roman bit his lip and started fiddling with the page of the book he was on. Those other three were script-breakers. They weren’t following a story, so they couldn’t be the antagonists of his… unless they were lying. Why would they lie about that? It would make an interesting twist in the story…

It was hard to know who to trust. Roman’s narrator had been there as far back as he can remember. He had just met the three that his narrator was calling villains. Roman’s destiny was going to lead to a happily ever after. His narrator was controlling his destiny, so that made his narrator the good guy, right? He had good intentions toward Roman. That made sense.

His narrator is against Logan, Janus, and Remus right now. The good guy always goes against the bad guy in a fairy tale story. So that meant the three were the bad guys. That makes sense to Roman.

Virgil’s footsteps broke Roman’s train of thought. The room had been quiet for a whole, only the sound of Roman fidgeting with the pages of the book and his narrator’s voice.

“Patton went off to make us cookies… What are you reading?” Virgil asked, walking over to Roman. He sat in an armchair next to him and looked over his shoulder.

“Something about famous script-breakers. I’ve never heard of any of these people.” Roman said. He frowned and gazed toward Virgil.

“Well, narrators basically control every aspect of our lives, including what books we read. I’m not surprised they wouldn’t want people reading about people who don’t listen to them. Gotta keep control over us after all.” Virgil shrugged sadly.

“But it’s not fair.” Roman said.

“I know. I guess we have the choice whether to follow them or not. There haven’t been any consequences for breaking them so far. Just the fear that you’ll never be happy, and people won’t want to be near you, and- and” Virgil’s hands were shaking and his mind was racing.

Roman gently put one of his hands on Virgil’s. “Breathe in for 4…3…2…1, hold for 7…6…5…4…3…2…1 and out for 8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1. Very good. Now again.” Roman caressed Virgil’s hand with his thumb as he coached him through his breathing a couple of times.

“Okay. I’m okay. Your narrator hasn’t said anything about consequences, right?” Virgil asked.

“Say no!” Roman’s narrator yelled as Roman’s eyes flashed a bright orange and pain flared up in his head..

Roman shook his head. “He hasn’t said much of anything important since we met Patton actually.” he lied. Roman didn’t want Virgil to worry. If his narrator wanted Virgil to know he would have said something.

“Weird,” Virgil said. “What’d he say just now?”

“Aww, you two look so cute together, all cuddled up like that!” Patton squealed and giggled as he came into the room with a plate of warm cookies in one hand. In the other hand, Patton held a burlap sack.

Virgil jumped at the sudden voice and pulled his hand away from Roman’s, who frowned at the sudden lack of contact. He was about to ask about the bag which made a clinking sound as Patton walked, but he got distracted as Patton asked him a question first…

“Are you two dating?” he asked. Patton sat on the floor with his legs crossed and put the plate of cookies on the coffee table in the middle of the three. Patton hugged a nearby pillow to his chest and shifted his eyes between the two, ready to hear all the drama.

“Oh uhh, no.” Roman stumbled while Virgil quickly shook his head. “No, we’re just friends.”

“Just friends.” Virgil repeated.

“How long have you two been friends? You seem really close.”

“Oh. Uhh… I don’t know. A while?” Roman told him.

“Years?” Virgil said, not really sure of the answer either. “We were about eighteen when we met, but we weren’t really friends back then.”

“Oh, like acquaintances?” Patton asked.

“Um, not quite, Padre.” Roman laughed.

“When I first met him, I thought he was a bitch.” Virgil shrugged.

“What changed, if you don’t mind me asking, years after we became friends?” Roman asked, ignoring Patton’s protests towards Virgil about his use of ‘language.’

“I grew to like that about you.” Virgil smirked.

Roman gasped in fake offense, mouth gaping open and leaning away from Virgil with his hand clutching his chest.

“Oh, you’re so dramatic.” Virgil scoffed.

“You two have such good energy together. Do you think you’ll ever be like that with Janus and Remus? I think it would be nice for all of us to get along.”

“I don’t know. I fucked up big time.” Virgil mumbled.

“I feel that.” Roman agreed.

“Come on. Everyone makes mistakes. They’ll forgive you eventually.”

Roman scoffed, still a tad bit salty from earlier.

“Dee is a self-described shady bitch. He’s talking shit about us right now.” Virgil laughed.

“Language!” Patton said loudly. “You don’t know that. I think we should all settle down and get some rest. It was pretty late when we got here and it’s almost dark outside.”

Virgil groaned. “Okay, dad.”

Patton chuckled. “Get some sleep. You’ll need the energy boost soon. I’m sure of it. I’ll show you to the guest room. I don’t want you two to break your neck and back sleeping in those chairs. Bad for your posture.”

“My posture’s already fucked.”

“Language!” Patton’s voice was starting to sound like a whine at this point.

“Alright alright.”

Patton showed the two to one of the guest room’s Logan had, which was apparently one of three. Patton left the two to their own devices while he left to go sleep in his own room, a guest bedroom that Patton always used whenever he slept over.

Roman opened the door to the guest bedroom. The room honestly looked very plain. Cobblestone walls, wooden floorboards, wooden bed frame with plain white sheets, and small dresser. Just the bare necessities for a bedroom.

“Ah. One bed.” Roman commented.

“You can have it.” Virgil said quickly.

“No. That’s alright. I’m perfectly fine sleeping on the floor. Or I can go back to the library and sleep in one of the chairs-

“And be in pain tomorrow morning? Just sleep in the bed.” Virgil told him.

“What? So you can be in pain? Do the same thing you don’t want me doing?” Roman questioned.

Roman’s narrator groaned loudly. “Just sleep in the same bed! It’s perfectly big enough for the both of you! Just please stop this incessant arguing.”

“My narrator said that we should just sleep in the same bed.” Roman looked away in embarrassment. Sure he had slept next to Virgiol before, just the last night in fact in the cave. But this was different.

“Well, if the narrators say that we have to.” Virgil agreed.

“Thank fuck. Now go to sleep. A deep sleep. I don’t have all fucking night to deal with you two. I have other things going on.”

Roman didn’t think anything of the narrator’s words. As he settled down on the side of the bed against the wall, his face slightly went red when Virgil laid next to him. As embarrassed as he was to be this close to Virgil, it was a long day for both of them. It didn’t take long for them to fall asleep.

As Janus, Remus, and Logan walked inside the dragon stalls, Janus noticed that the dragon “stalls” didn’t look anything like stalls. The building was a large empty space encased with a dome made out of wire and a lot of small devices planted around the “ceiling” of the dome. There was a large building that provided some shade and proper shelter for the dragons in the center of the enclosure. It made Janus wonder a few things. How did someone like Logan have the money for all this land? Didn’t he own a “library” as well?

“Jan-Jan! Dragons!” Remus was jumping up and down, while pulling on Janus’s sleeve.

Janus looked at a small yellow almost golden dragon. Its legs looked stumpy, and its wings were curled around it to protect it. Its bright brown eyes were glaring at the three somehow making it seem like the golden specks in its eyes sparkled. It huffed at them, making smoke come out of its nostrils.

“Incredible.” Janus said almost involuntarily and wide-eyed.

“Not many people have seen dragons. I’m thankful that I get to see them all the time. Most people are afraid of them due to what the narrators make them do to towns and villages. They are just as much in danger as people are. This one came in recently. She was held captive by some script-followers for a long period of time, making her legs not work right. She’s more friendly than she seems. You just have to show her you aren’t a danger first. Just be careful. You two don’t have fireproof suits like I do.” Logan put the bag down on a stool and tore an opening with a pair of shears.

“What the fuck is that!?” Remus yelled, watching large chunks of almost green meat tumble out of the bag and onto the ground. It didn’t look appetizing at all.

“This is what Patton calls dragon feed. It contains chunks of meat, apples, and greens.”

“Apples and greens?” Remus questioned.

“Well, dragons are almost like big lizards. They are omnivores, and therefore need fruits and vegetables. They need the nutrition to stay healthy.” Logan stated simply. He picked up one of the large chunks and rolled it over to the golden dragon. He looked over, stunned at the sight he saw.

Janus was sitting cross-legged with his cane laying next to him, but what was more surprising was the dragon. The dragon that had been aggressive to the three when they walked in was now laying her head on Janus’s lap.

“Wha- I-I… how?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Janus told him. He gave some scratches to the dragon’s head, which she leaned into singing softly.

“She doesn’t like humans.” Logan stated.

“Uh-huh.” Janus said absentmindedly as he picked up the dragon feed that Logan rolled over and held it, which he immediately regretted. “Wow. Gross.” The chunk was twice as big as his hand and Janus felt relieved that he always wore gloves.

The dragon flicked her tongue out and grabbed the feed with it.

“Cool!” Remus exclaimed. “I wanna feed a dragon!” he jumped up and down, clenching his fists a few times.

Logan sighed. “You’re not going to stop until you feed a dragon, are you?”

Remus smiled widely, almost sinisterly, showing his teeth. “I can be very persuasive.” he laughed.

“I don’t doubt that. He grabbed another clump of dragon feed and handed it to Remus. “Oooh. Good texture.”

Logan shuttered. “I’m not afraid of most things, but your friend is….” he trailed off, gesturing with his hands and trying to find the right word.

Janus laughed. “Yeah. I get that a lot.”

Remus cackled and ran away, looking at all the dragons to choose his favorite and feed it.

“I’m going to regret bringing him in here. Do you know if Roman is going to be the same way?” Logan asked, picking up the large bag of dragon feed.

“I didn’t meet him that long ago. I met him while I was going to steal from him. He’s a fucking moron though, I’ll tell you that much.” Janus huffed out.

“There are several different types of intelligence. I’m sure Roman has his strong suit. Trying to steal from him wasn’t exactly an intelligence move on your part either.”

Janus rolled his eyes. “I do what I need to do.”

“Correction: You do what you think you need to do. Patton does just fine as someone who broke his script without stealing.”

“He’s a prince, he’s not going to miss a few gold coins.”

“Maybe so, but I’m curious who distrusted the other first.”

“He did, obviously.”

“He was right to do so. You said it yourself. You were trying to steal from him. I’ve noticed the small looks you give him. Is there a reason?”

“He’s a script-follower. People like him do things because of a voice in their head. And, he’s a prince, meaning he’s probably scripted to kill a dragon.” Janus put his head on his dragon in his lap to feel comfort. It was killer on his back, but worth it, because it did have a calming effect on him.

“So you distrusted him first.” Logan stated simply.

“I-”

“Holy Fuck! That thing’s huge!” Remus yelled from a distance away. There was a pause in the conversation as Janus and Logan were interrupted. “That’s what she said!” Remus added. Logan rolled his eyes.

“Ah, so he’s one of those.” Logan quickly looked back at Janus. “I suggest that you and Roman sort your issues out. If you two are going to be working together to defeat a very serious threat, you two need to tolerate each other.”

“In case you haven’t realized, you haven’t told us about this very serious threat. Just that you think the narrators are angry with this town for breaking their scripts and might do something soon.”

“It’ll happen soon. I just know it. The dragons sense it as well.”

“The dragons… sense it.” Janus repeated.

“They have narrators too. Just like humans, they have to fight off the urge to break from their script and continuously do so for a few consecutive months.” Logan stated simply.

Janus was silent, sitting up straight and wincing as the pain in his upper back and shoulders hit him hard from using his cane almost all day. “Right. I got rid of my narrator a long time ago, when I was about eighteen. I didn’t think it took that long.”

“It actually is longer than a few months. Narrators will try to get people to follow their scripts by telling people to do mundane things such as eating or sleeping. Because humans need to do these things to survive, they are technically following their narrator. Sometimes the narrators will give fewer and fewer commands once they realize the hold on their person is slipping. Less commands, less chances to break them. I documented my experience and attempted to get it published several times.” Logan told Janus thoughtfully.

“Interesting.” Janus said.

“Would you like to help feed the rest of the dragons?” Logan asked. Janus shook his head.

“I’d love to, but you know, dragon rules.” Logan raised an eyebrow at this excuse. “There’s a tired dragon on my lap. Can’t move.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“Oh she will. For sure. You’ll have to do it on your own. So sorry.”

Logan sighed and shook his head, but he walked out of Janus’s view with the dragon feed.

“We’re really in it now, Daffodil.” Janus said, petting the dragon laying on his lap. She looked up at him, glaring with no particular malicious intent and huffed up at him. Janus chuckled. “Okay, okay, I’ll workshop it.”

Logan walked around the enclosure, carrying the bag of dragon feed with him. He was feeding the dragons as he went by, looking for Remus. He didn’t know what Remus would get up to if left on his own devices. He hadn’t known him for long, but he already knew it was a bad idea to leave him alone with large creatures that could breathe fire.

Thankfully, Logan did find Remus. He was hugging the largest dragon Logan has currently. This one was very playful, but thankfully he seemed to be resting right now.

“I like this one. It tried to kill me!” Remus hugged the leg of this dragon tighter. This dragon was at least five times the size of Remus, who was already quite tall, and a yellow-ish green color. His fiery red eyes closed constantly as of right now, and his wings were in resting position. The light from the sunset made his shiny horns glow colorfully.

“He likes to play, unfortunately he is quite huge and therefore causes a lot of damage.”

“He can breathe fire.” Remus said excitedly.

Logan looked at the scorch marks on the ground. They covered a large section in this enclosure, but they were more prominent around this dragon in particular. Logan ould have to plant some more grass soon. He looked at the embers that still glowed dully. Maybe he should do some tests on the sprinkler system as well. Obviously it works well enough, but being too prepared never hurts.

“Most dragons can breathe fire, yes, but I didn’t bring you two in here to play with dragons. I brought you both here to talk with you about what we’re planning on doing.”

“But… dragons,” Remus pouted. “They’ll be so alone.”

Logan took off his glasses and gloves to pinch the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath. “Remus, this whole thing is extremely important. If you could just take your focus off the dragons for a few seconds. You and Janus both, I swear….” he trailed off as he watched Remus rub the belly of the large dragon.

“Remus! Let’s go meet up with Janus and discuss what to do.”

Remus hung off the leg of the dragon as he tilted back while groaning. “Fiiiiine.” He let go of the dragon. “I’m so sorry that Logan is a complete killjoy, Firestarter.”

“Please don’t name him. Once you name him, you’ll get attached to him.”

“I am already super attached, and there is no separating us.” Remus walked over to Logan and stuck his tongue out at him.

“You almost remind me of Patton in a way. Impulsive and extremely sympathetic.”

“Aww come on you love him. He’s your bestie. As gross as that is.”

“Aren’t you and Janus close?”

“Yeah… but we aren’t like icky close. Just normal close.”

“I…” Logan gave up on trying to reason with Remus, and just grabbed his arm taking him back to Janus and the dragon Janus partnered up with. He would have to separate Janus and his dragon as well.

Logan dragged Remus back to Janus, while Remus pointed out all the features he found cool on all the dragons he passed.

“Okay. Clearly neither of you will be focused unless I take you away from the dragons. So, we’re going to have this meeting in my house instead.”

“And take away Goldie’s favorite person? What an absolute monster.” Janus smirked.

Logan sighed deeply. “Goldie? What are you, five?”

“I’m workshopping it. She hasn’t liked any of the names I’ve chosen for her so far.” Janus crossed his arms.

“Have you ever thought that they’re really dumb?” Remus laughed.

“Stop naming the dragons!” Logan yelled. “Now get up. We’re leaving.”

“Explain that to the fire breathing dragon.” Janus told him, raising an eyebrow at him.

Logan glared at Janus for a moment until Janus finally gave in. “Fine. Sorry sunshine.” His joints clicked loudly as he carefully stood up, making sure not to hurt the dragon in the process.

The yet to be named dragon picked up Janus’s cane gingerly with her mouth and raised it up to him. “Thank you so much. You’re so helpful. I love you.” Janus said, talking to the dragon almost like a parent would to an infant.

“Ick. Thought you didn’t like it when your cane got touched.”

“She’s an adorable exception.” Janus told him.

“Alright, let’s go. It’s very important that we stop the narrators.” Logan said.

Logan led the two outside and into a house not that far from his dragon enclosure. They passed by the room that Logan called his “library”. They didn’t see much of what the other three were doing, but Virgil and Roman were cuddled up in a chair. They passed Patton in the kitchen, rolling dough into balls.

“Patton, you still have knowledge on how to make potions, yes?” Logan asked.

Patton looked up at him, pausing what he was doing for a moment before continuing. “Yeah,” he said. “Why? Do you need something?”

“Just a few sleeping potions.” Logan told him.

Patton nodded. “Yeah that’ll be easy. I can get started now.”

“Perfect. Thank you, Patton.” Logan walked out of the room, Remus and Janus following him.

“Just to be absolutely certain, both of you have broken your scripts, correct?”

Janus and Remus both nodded. The three of them had met up in Logan’s dining room to discuss what would be happening shortly. Logan sat across from Janus and Remus who sat next to each other. Logan was slightly annoyed he couldn’t have this discussion while he was doing his chores to save time, but he was also glad Janus and Remus were able to focus more on the important discussion now

“And both of your narrators are gone, yes?”

Again Janus and Remus both nodded. They hadn’t had the narrating voice in their head for years, both of them deciding to break their scripted destiny when they were very young.

“Good.” Logan said. “The narrators have already started their attack. More script-followers have been coming to this kingdom for years. That’s why I sent a letter asking for help. I knew someone would come, but I wanted it to be someone that trusted me. I found that if I had introduced myself sooner rather than later I wouldn’t give the script-follower any reason not to trust me. So, I pretended to play the part of ‘person in distress’ if you will.”

“Ah, that’s why we’re talking behind their backs. No, that makes perfect sense.” Janus added snarkily, crossing his arms and smirking.

Remus cackled while Logan huffed at Janus. “The other three still have narrators. Patton only broke his script recently, so his narrator is still there. I don’t want the narrators to know. If there was a way to give information to the others without the narrators knowing, I would. That would be the smart thing to do at least, but I don’t think it’s possible.”

“Don’t the dragons have narrators?”

“I hadn’t thought about that.” Logan admitted.

“Whatever. I just met my brother after being separated for years, and I don’t want him dying because you made a shitty plan, so you need to make sure you have accounted for every possible goddamn problem, you fucking whale dick.”

Logan blinked at the threat, surprised. “That’s certainly a creative threat.” he said after a moment of being stunned.

“You’ll get used to it.” Janus told him, smiling slightly. He had grown not only accustomed to “Remus speak” but he had come to enjoy it as well. He says some disturbing things sometimes, thanks to his impulsive and intrusive thoughts. It’s just a uniquely Remus thing, which makes it special in a way. Janus also found it great for distracting people while he picked pockets.

“I assure you that I’ve already thought about the possible outcomes and figured a solution.”

“You better have.” Remus grumbled, slouching in his chair. Janus put his hand on Remus’s in an attempt to comfort him.

“So here’s what’s going on… Script-breakers have been coming to Thera under the guise of being people who broke their script. By my guess, they make up more than twenty percent of the population. It may seem small, but this town is already very small as it is.”

“So your script-breaking haven is being disrupted by script followers which you think were brought here by the narrator to do… what exactly?” Janus asked.

“Not only are they filling up the town, trying to make them a majority, but they’re causing damage to numerous things around the city. I witnessed some people with those orange glowing eyes pulling up cobblestones from the street, I had to chase down some people trying to break the sprinkler system in the dragon enclosure, I’ve noticed some of my history books missing, farms are becoming less successful because of missing crops...”

“Can you prove any of this?” Janus asked.

“Unfortunately not, but I can assure you that only the new people are doing these things. These events have been recent. I’ve lived here my whole life and I have never witnessed anything like this. People here are more content with living in peace.”

“So, let me get this as straight as I can,” Remus twirled his mustache. “Script-followers have been coming into Thera and doing shit like property damage and stuff. No one else has done this ever before… and I don’t believe you in the fucking slightest. Usually I like crazy, but you are-”

“FALSEHOOD!” Logan yelled. Remus and Logan both jumped in their seats from the calm man suddenly screaming at the top of his lungs.

“These are real things that have been happening. I’m not able to prove it, but I’m just asking you to help prepare for the worst. The more script-followers there are in one area. The more powerful the narrator gets and there’s no telling what he’ll do to all the people who broke their scripts that live here. I just want to prepare for the worst to protect them.” Logan avoided looking at Janus and Remus, hands frozen at his sides.

Janus sighed. “Fine. I’ll help. Just preparation. Nothing more. You have no proof to show us that anyone is doing any damage, so we have no choice but to not believe you until you are able to provide us with evidence.” Janus told him.

Logan took a deep breath. “I apologize… for yelling at you both. It was not very professional of me. I truly thank you, Janus. For providing me with help when you didn’t have to. Especially after how I just acted right now.”

“Chill the fuck out. Stop apologizing like that. It’s so weird.” Janus told him.

“If Janus is helping, I’m helping too.” Remus said.

“Alright,” Logan said. “Here’s the plan…”

When Logan finished going over the plan, he summarized it for Remus who admitted he got lost halfway through Logan’s long speech.

“Alright, now that you two know what to do when, if something happens, you two know what to do. When, if something happens, it’ll happen soon, so you won’t have to stay here for too long.”

“One more question,” Janus started. Logan looked at him. “Is Patton your only friend?”

“Friends are distracting, but socializing is important for the human mind.” Logan told him.

“No socialization makes you go fucking crazy, so I think what Janus was implying-”

“I am sufficiently functioning.” Logan interrupted.

“You are what?” Janus blinked in surprise. “Human beings don’t say things like that. You need maybe just a few more friends than just Patton.”

Logan sighed. “Patton has been trying to introduce me to new people for quite some time. It hasn’t worked. Please don’t try. What other friends do you have besides each other?”

“It’s dark outside, and I think we should get some rest before the end of the world.” Janus said quickly, avoiding Logan’s question.

“That I can agree with. The human mind and body do not work well if not given sufficient sleep.”

“Please stop referring to yourself as human. It’s weird, even for me.” Remus laughed.

Logan led them to one of his guest bedrooms. Janus, after learning Logan had three guest bedrooms, had called him a ‘rich prick’. Logan rolled his eyes and showed them the room they would be staying in then retired to his own room for the night.

“Oooh~ Only one bed,” Remus wiggled his eyebrows. “Whatever will we do?”

“I take the bed because of my pain problems, you sprawl on the floor because we both know you starfish.”

“Laying on the floor is one of the best feelings in the world.”

“Glad you think so.” Janus smirked, throwing a pillow at him.

Remus took it and flopped on the floor, mumbling something about the rub being fluffy. Janus rolled his eyes and lay down on the bed, falling asleep almost instantly after the long day.

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#my writing #sanders sides #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #logan sanders #dragons!!!#there was only one bed ooh #fantasy au #human au

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selamat-linting · 1 year

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parts 2 of my previous homestuck post, now on to the things i find silly!

-yaoi tournament will live free forever in my head. so as the horse cock. this is the worst thing hussie has ever done. i legit did not know it was an actual horse cock like i think it was just a giant blue dildo 😭😭😭😭

-the dancestors are really lame people like oh my god. beforus kids are giant dorks i cant believe their alternia counterparts are so badass like, take aranea and mindfang. just look at the contrast. first one is a nerd who would pay people for attention and the other is a girlboss who doesnt give a shit.

-one thing i do like from kankri is that he gave us plenty if funny karkat suffers joke. i love how this loser makes karkat do the walter white face lmaoooo he just cant get a break is he?

-and penis ouija!!! god why is he like that? everytime karkat is on screen i feel secondhand embarrassment like. i cant believe i shared classpects with this guy. why are you biting dave's cape are you in kindergarten? worst of all i think i've done something similarly embarrassing in school. thats it im changing my classpect im a knight of light from now on fuck off.

-still, thats not as horrible as rose's fuckup with her date. oh my god somebody gives her a chill pill she is going to lick herself bald like a stressed kitten. which is really funny because she and kanaya seems so... not nervous when talking to each other. you'd think their date would be a normal casual discussion between two awesome self assured girls. No its not. theyre both have gotten good at looking like theyre not close to exploding. but we all know none of them are Hinged.

-And oh, tavris they are doing you both dirty. like, its an improvement that vriska actually says something positive to him and that tavros did speak up against her at some points. but the narrative doesnt really want them to grow as a person. i think hussie has gotten too attached to vriska the unapologetic thief of light to the point that its reflecting badly on her and other's character development. okay fine i did say i wont take it seriously, but im a writer too. ofc i will notice the issues.

- this might be an unpopular opinion but i like the elevatorstuck music. gamzee is like, getting close to be my scrunkly like i know he does atrocities but he is really funny when doing it.

-the lands for the alpha kids are really fascinating. its less lively than the beta kids but im glad i actually get to experience the puzzles they have to solve on quests and its relations with the players' classpect. i want to see jane fulfilling her planets wish to be green and fertile. she gets too much shit talk from caliborn so i want to see her get a win yknow? and she's so goofy like her beta counterpart i want to see her happy and silly like egbert too.

-speaking of egbert, im kinda worried for him. can you believe it? he doesnt like con air anymore. i've been in his phase of starting to lose all joy in things i used to like and feeling lonely even with people around me and its not pretty. i know he went through a lot. i hope the experience with the dream bubble would make him happier even if just for a bit

-and another beta kids i want to be sad about: davesprite! he's so alone. all of his friends from the timeline is gone, he's not the main dave anymore and john keeps treating him like a replacement. its like he's relegated to a nobody who happens to have a recognizable face. poor guy.

-and to be sad again, i know i made fun of karkat a lot, but i have the biggest parental instinct for him. aside from terezi. he's the biggest crier out of the group. he's shouty and annoying but thats very much the kind of annoying shit that children do yknow? at first i dont like him because of his attitude to jade, but slowly i did warm up to him. he never really hated anybody and most of his tantrums are generally harmless to other people. in fact, he blames himself a lot about things that are out of his control. he's the one with the least body count from the rest of the trolls and he literally had to grew up hunted and unwanted by society. i want to give him a hug, i truly do.

-okay back to fanboying. roxy!!!! shit. man i adore that she has an aura that makes any surveillance camera blackout nearby. yes, girl, BECOME UNGOVERNABLE.

-and i cant believe im saying this, but i miss sollux. at first i was just joking about finding him interesting because he has my star sign and is good at coding but yeah. i do miss the guy. where is he really?

#homestuck #homestuck liveblog #homestuck liveread

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female-buckets · 9 months

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she's consistently trying to harm ppl and you're acting like it's nonsensical or just "dirty", she's a grimy nasty type of a player who seemingly enjoys lifting others legs, tripping them, swatting them etc. You bringing in other players is moot especially when they have their own fair share of critics for "dirty" acts or plays as well. What aboutism in full effect

I have never met a dirty player I didn't like. That's just how I am. I like the scary ones just as much as I like the finesse ones. And if a player has both, I'm in love.

Lisa Leslie, Lauren Jackson, and Sylvia Fowles have all injured players out of the season. Not career ending stuff. But they've taken players out of competition. And that's where I draw the line. That's too much for me. But I still love those three players.

Her rookie year, Lauren seriously injured some poor role player at the end of the season. Then a few years later, Lauren faced off with Lisa Leslie in the playoffs. And Lisa kneed her in the groin so hard that Lauren couldn't walk let alone play.

Sylvia scratched BG's eye to take her out of the 2014 finals. She also tripped up BG's feet and made her land badly which took her out for 8 weeks in 2017. And Sylvia scratched Tina Charles eye to knock her out of the Chinese playoffs. That one was pretty bloody.

The point I'm making here is if a player wants to actually injure someone, they'll just do it. They know how to injure players and they know how to avoid injuring players while still pissing them off. There's a huge difference between dangerous dirt and obnoxious dirt.

Players used to joke about how they needed hours and hours in the ice bath after playing Tamika Catchings. Maya Moore played like a bigger Diana Taurasi. She had all the body slams and elbows and physical aggressive play like Diana. These women only knew how to play one way. They played American football on the basketball court and they left bruises. And it was extremely obnoxious for their opponents. But they never seriously injured anyone.

BG will definitely throw your ass to the ground if she feels like it. But she's being obnoxious, not dangerous. And Alyssa Thomas and Sophie Cunningham are not dangerously dirty. They are obnoxiously dirty. All of these players know the difference. They know what causes serious injury and what doesn't. Alyssa Thomas knows if you poke beneath the eye, it's a black eye but not a scratched eye. She's never going to seriously injure Stewie. What she is going to do is try to stun Stewie momentarily during the game to get an advantage. Obnoxious!

It doesn't really matter whether I defend these women or not. They're going to play like this regardless of what I think. So I'm not defending them. I just think the outrage is silly. It's been 27 seasons and the WNBA still has that streak of grime. If outrage actually changed the way these players played, they'd be playing netball by now.

#wnba

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oilivia · 3 years

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"worth the wait" - w/ Gojo

a/n: this ended up much longer than i intended to, but after watching the new JJK op Gojo was the only thing on my mind. no beta and smut after the cut. hope you’ll enjoy it and reblogs are appreciated!

pairing: Gojo x fem reader

tw: teasing, corruption themes, size difference, masturbation, nipple play, knee grinding, multiple orgasms, mindbreak, cum play

word count: 1.9k

You hate that you can’t hate him. You wish you didn’t find his stupid jokes so funny, or the matter-of-factly way in which he says “I’m the best” so attractive. It would all be much easier for you if you could snicker and roll your eyes at his confidence when he’d say “I know you think about me at night.”

Instead, thinking about him at night is exactly what you do. Hand between your thighs, fingers buried in your hole as you get off to the thought of him on top of you, pumping in and out of your tight cunt. You wonder how he’d react if one day you’d reply to his comment with an ‘Yes’. Would he laugh? Would he tease you? Or maybe you’d finally get to taste his lips, to wrap your fingers around his cock.

“What are you thinking about?” you flinch when you feel a hand on your shoulder. “Is it me?” he whispers in a teasing tone, a shiver running down your spine when his hot breath hits your ear. How much of an asshole can he be sneaking up on you like this? Well, fuck it, you think. What’s the worst that could happen?

“And what if I was, Gojo?” There is a short pause and you internally facepalm, maybe confessing it wasn’t such a good idea. But then he laughs and your eyes dart to him.

“So you’re finally admitting it. Took you long enough.” You don’t even get to say a word before his mouth is on yours. With a hand on the back of your head and one on your waist, he’s pushing you until your back is pressed against the nearest wall. He pries your legs open with a knee, pressing it against your crotch and when you whine, he pulls his tongue from your eager mouth with a smirk. “I thought you’d fight back a bit more. But I guess you find me irresistible, huh?”

You feel your skin burning at his words and the way he’s rubbing his knee on your pussy with only a couple of thin layers of clothing separating you isn’t helping. “You’re such a jerk,” you retort, but he just chuckles.

“And you’d like it if this jerk railed you right here?” He gathers both your hands and pins them above your head. Your heart is beating faster, the way he’s towering over you driving you crazy, his luscious lips within inches of yours. You want to give in so badly.

It’s now or never. “Not here,” you whisper, trying to convince yourself as much as him. You’re right in the middle of a hallway at Jujutsu Tech, not the best place to fuck. Not if you don’t plan on finding another job at least. It’s getting harder to hold in your moans the more he’s teasing your covered clit and at this point the spot on his pants that’s pressed on you must be wet as well.

“Hmm, I’ll indulge you since it’s our first time,” he chuckles and picks you up. A few moments later, he gently throws you on a bed “I brought you to my apartment if you’re so shy, though I’d rather have taken you right against that wall.” You know some things about Gojo’s cursed techniques, but still, it never fails to amaze you just how strong it is. Maybe that’s part of the appeal. That, and the few times you had those otherworldly eyes staring down at you.

You don’t have much time to analyze your motivations, not with the man himself climbing on top of you, jacket thrown next to the bed and shirt half unbuttoned. He is going to make you work for it if you want to see him naked. He enjoys seeing the battle within you between your desire for him and your desire to remain unbothered. It amuses him. It’s always fun, making the cool and collected ones lose themselves with lust. Have them crawl to him on their knees. And he knows just how to do it.

“You look so pretty splayed like that on my bed,” he mutters as he runs his hand up your naked leg, leaving a trail of goosebumps from your calf to your inner thigh. “I think we should take these off, they’re drenched,” he coos, tugging down your panties. You whimper when you feel the cold air hit your drooling slit. His lips are closing in to your ear again “And I’m keeping them - a memento of how much you want me.” He loves watching your expressions when he pushes your buttons. It’s easy with you, you respond so cutely to his teasing, so sensitive, so needy. He can’t wait to see how you’ll squirm when he’s fucking you, how your eyes will roll at the back of your head.

“Pervert,” you hiss, but he only chuckles at that. Gojo licks the shell of your ear, hand kneading your breasts. A whine escapes you and you feel the corners of his mouth tug into a grin as he’s planting kisses on your jawline - he’s breaking your defenses, slowly but surely. Why would you be resisting him anyways?

“So you’re into perverts, hmm?” He slips a finger between your wet folds slowly and you moan oh, so prettily for him. “Moaning like this from just a finger, such a cutie. What are you going to do when I put my cock inside you? Good thing the walls aren’t thin.” He pushes in and out of you while he’s lifting your top, planting kisses on your stomach and moving up to your breasts. He frees them from the confine of your bra and latches his mouth on one of your nipples, sucking as he adds a second finger in your cunt. You whine and he relishes the way your walls are sucking in his digits. You’re gonna feel so good wrapped around his cock.

Tingles run through your body. When you do it yourself it doesn't feel nearly as good. But you want more - need more. So when you see him release your nipple with a pop and pull his fingers from your sopping cunt only to stare at you with an impish smile, you can’t help but whine “Gojo, please!”

“Call me Satoru,” he grins “You’re always so formal, even naked on my bed. And please what?”

“Please stop being such a tease and just fuck me already!” Your cheeks are burning up, you can’t believe he’s making you act like such a needy slut.

“All you had to do was ask,” he chuckles, untying his blindfold “I want you to look at me while I make you cream on my cock.”

Gojo’s eyes are just as mesmerizing as you remember and staring into them feels like taking a plunge off a cliff, just to fall into the sky. You bite your lip, you could be so cheesy sometimes. But you can’t stop looking, barely registering the way he takes your hands and places them on his shirt, unbuttoning it with your own fingers and then moving to undo the clasp of his belt.

“Just like this,” he coos, pushing you on your back once he’s done making you undress him. Your eyes widen when you see his cock, fully hard and drops of precum leaking from the tip. “You like it?”

“I-I’m not sure it’s going to fit-”

“We’ll make it fit,” Gojo coaxes, placing your legs on his shoulders and pressing the tip against your entrance. You whine, the way he’s spreading your muscle rim both painful and delicious. Inch by inch he’s stretching your tight walls, your back arching. He’s rubbing against each and every one of your sensitive spots and you’re so close to cumming just by having him enter you. “Oh, look at you, you’re so fucking wet and still so fucking tight.”

He grunts, sheeting himself inside you fully with one deep thrust. He gives you a moment to rest, enjoying the way your walls clench around his length. Gojo had his eyes on you for a while. He saw the way you always hesitated for a second every time he teased you, how you’d fight laughing at his jokes. And how you swayed your hips so alluringly each time you walked away as if spending one more second in his presence would make all your defenses crumble. But he knew it was just a matter of time before you’d fall right into his arms. You were just too cute, too innocent - he had to have you.

“S-Satoru,” you moan his name when he starts moving again. Each thrust is hard and deep and each of them makes the coil in your abdomen tighten. His hands are on your ass, spreading your cheeks. You cry his name over and over. And he just pounds into you, slamming his hips into yours. He isn’t going to be gentle just because you never had a cock as big. He can’t, he’s not that merciful. You’re just too pretty, how you whine and squirm, how your much smaller body shakes when he touches you, when he fucks into you. Your eyes are glazed over, but you don’t close them, no, you’re looking straight at him. Drool is dripping from the corner of your mouth, and slick is running down your thighs.

“You’re such a mess. Such a pretty fucking mess,” he smirks and thrusts harder. Your hands grip the sheets. So desperate, so needy. You need to hold onto something to keep you from bursting. But when he leans on you and his lips wrap around your nipples once more - you can’t hold it anymore. The coil snaps as your mind goes blank, your body frantically trying to pull him deeper inside you, squeezing, milking him.

He’s panting as he keeps fucking you through your high. He’s chasing his own release, trying to decide which part of your body he should mark with his cum. Your bouncy tits? Your pretty face? Or maybe he should just finish inside you and watch as it drips from your well-fucked hole. He’s close, so close. And you’re still cumming - is it the second or the third time? It doesn’t matter.

Pulling out of your velvety walls, he strokes his cock while rubbing your clit. He wants to see you squirming for a little while more. His body jerks and with a grunt he sprays his cum all over your stomach and breasts, a few drops landing on your face as you’re cumming again from the pressure on your clit.

He’d ask you if you’d be able to fuck another man after this, but there was no point. You are so out of it, your walls clenching around nothing and body still shaking - you couldn’t answer him anyway. Gojo will just have to wait until you’re coherent again. He knows you won’t be able to stay away from him anymore, you’ll just be crawling on your hands and knees back to him, begging for his cock. And he’s going to give it to you, he’s going to fuck you in every corner of the school. It seems the wait was worth it.

#jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagine #gojo scenario #♡.cherry

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

Suits, Dresses, and Heels

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4000

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, More Mentions of PTSD, Gun Violence, Slight Mentions of Drinking, Club Dancing (You’re all gonna hate me for that part, but I’m not sorry)

A/N: Here’s Part 4.2 - The Second Part to Episode 3 - as requested. This is a little more scene-by-scene, but there are some off-screen moments. I’ll be posting Part 4.3 (which will have the rest of the episode) later tonight.

There’s a bit more information on Reader, but not as much as the last chapter. Sharon comes in during this part, so you get to see her and Reader’s relationship.

Also, I have mixed feelings about Zemo at this point. Not in the story, the Reader’s not a fan as you learned previously, but for me personally, he’s surprised me a couple times by coming back and helping.

Anyways! Thank you so much for reading! This isn’t beta’d so excuse any mistakes! Check out my other parts before you read! Thank you again! Stay tuned, loves!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The dress was far too tight for your liking, and showed way too much skin. Not that you didn’t like being a tease every once in a while, but for this mission, you’d rather have more cover and movement.

You had to admit though; Zemo had nice taste. The dress fit deliciously - which made you wonder how he got your size. The color and cut was devastatingly flattering. Plus, he let you do your own makeup.

Being the only female, you were in a separate area of the jet getting ready. Once you were done, you made sure to knock, even though you’d walked in on Sam changing too many times to count while on the run and had seen Bucky answer the door in nothing but a towel. It was mainly for Zemo’s sake, just a warning that you were walking in whether or not they were ready.

“Damn, girl! You clean up nice!”

You rolled your eyes at Sam, painted lips quirking up as you studied him, shooting him a wink. “You should try a mirror, Sammy.” You turned to Bucky to find him staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at you. “What do you think, Buck?”

His mouth snapped shut and he cleared his throat, eyes exploring the dips and curves your body. “You…” He blinked once. Twice. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his intense eyes making you heat up, before he shook his head. “You look good.” He rushed out, before spinning on his heel shoving past Sam who was snickering.

“Where’s Zemo?” You noticed he wasn’t in the main area of the plane when you walked in.

“Rearranging our ride once we get there.”

You huffed, fixing your hair. “Oh God. We’re really doing this.”

“Yup.”

“Okay.” You looked down at yourself before looking up at the boys. “Something’s gonna go wrong, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

“No doubt.”

Giving a slight groan at their simultaneous answers, you nodded. “Let’s try not to screw up too badly, boys, alright? I at least want to live long enough to see Peter graduate.”

Sam rolled his eyes with a scoff. “That kid’s a punk.”

“You’re a punk.” You shot back.

Bucky raised his hand. “I second that punk thing.”

“For which one?”

“Both of them.”

You chuckled as Sam gaped at Bucky, who shrugged innocently. The former assassin tilted his head in your direction to shoot you a grin and a wink, making you laugh more. Shaking your head, you go to make a joke when Zemo walked in.

“It’s time. We’re landing now.”

And just like that, the teasing atmosphere dissipated, leaving you anxious and regretful.

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

You walked by Bucky, arm linked with his metal one, listening as Zemo told Sam about his “character” he was to play.

“He’s a known womanizer - always has a gorgeous lady on his arm.” Zemo gestured towards you. “It’s the only way they’d let in a woman.”

“Aren’t we going to see a woman?” You questioned, gently patting Bucky’s metallic bicep when his hold on you tightened.

“Which makes it more imperative that you don’t act threatening. Women don’t make the same mistake men do; they don’t underestimate other women.”

You nodded. He had a point there. Bucky faced you, a frown on those pretty lips. “I don’t like this.” He mumbled.

“You think I do?” You whispered back. “With you being him again? Even if it’s just pretend? And need I remind you whose idea this was?”

“I know, I know. Just…” He sighed. “Promise me you won’t get hurt on purpose.”

Your forehead creased. “Why would I-?”

“To protect people. You always do. And I get it, I do. It’s why you started this in the first place, but…save yourself first, this time, okay?”

“Buck-”

“Promise me.”

It wasn’t often you could see the fear in his eyes, hear it in his voice, but you could then. Unable to do anything else you nodded, a soft, “okay” falling from your lips. He nodded back, pressing a kiss to your head, before letting you go as a car approached.

Bucky helped you in - the heels you were wearing were no joke - before sliding in himself, Sam getting in on the other side of you. “And you two can’t be…” Zemo gestured to the two of you as the car started moving, eyeing your still connected hands. “Doing that.”

“This isn’t my first theater production.” You snapped at him. “We’ll be fine.”

He raised his hands in surrender, turning back to look out the windshield. Once you arrived, you gave Bucky’s hand one last squeeze, before accepting Sam’s hand to get out on his side, linking your arm with his like you were doing with Bucky earlier.

“I finally get to see one of your performances, baby.” Sam grinned at you.

You smirked back. “Best seats in the house, too, Smiling Tiger.” He groaned at your jest, nudging you playfully with his elbow as you giggled.

“This way.” Zemo cut in, jerking his head in the direction you’d be going. You took a breath, steeling yourself, before the three of you nodded at each other and followed his lead.

You found the fellas reactions amusing, their heads turning to study and scan everything they could see. You were more subtle in the way you analyzed your surroundings, feeling a bit more at home in this situation than, say, fighting super soldiers on top of semi trucks.

Your jaw tightened, as did your grip on Sam’s arm, when Zemo started speaking Russian, the four of you pushing through a crowded bar. Sam ran his fingers over your arms, giving your hand a little squeeze, silently reassuring you.

It was a bit obvious Sam hadn’t done much undercover work, put he stayed in character and you were impressed. Especially when the bartender started cutting up the snake, which you had to look away for because if there was one thing you couldn’t do…it was snakes. You nearly gagged when Sam reluctantly downed the drink.

Bucky eyed you, lips pursed in a way you recognized as him trying to hold in a smile. That made you feel a little better, hiding your own smile by turning into the crook of Sam’s neck. “Not. Funny.” He growled through clenched teeth, lips not moving.

“Kinda is.”

He grumbled under his breath, before the two of you tuned into the conversation between Zemo and a thug that came up, learning about the apparent power broker of Madripoor, which you a bit of from your time undercover there.

Sam held you tightly when Zemo turned to Bucky, knowing what was about to happen.

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like how easily aggressive he became. You didn’t like the little smirk Zemo gave as Bucky attacked. You didn’t like the cellphones being pointed in his direction. You didn’t like it.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” You gave Zemo a warning glare, a shaky breath leaving you.

He’d been doing so well. At least, for someone who had been through what he had. Especially considering it’d only been a few months since he’d been pardoned - half a year since everyone came back. You knew bringing Zemo on board had been a bad idea, but-

A squeeze to your hand pulled you out of your thoughts. You let out an inaudible sigh of relief as Zemo allowed Bucky to let the man he was choking go.

“Selby will see you now.”

One step down. You hoped that would be the hardest part, but you knew it most definitely wouldn’t be.

“You good?”

Bucky sniffed, giving you two a curt nod, before following Zemo. You bit your lip. “That wasn’t really an answer, was it?”

Sam shook his head. “No. No it wasn’t.”

Selby wasn’t exactly what you were expecting, but you’d come to expect that. You stayed on Sam’s arm, giving the guards coy smiles and playing with the fake nails you had on in faux-boredom.

When she purred at the man besides you, you and Bucky glanced at each other, with you resisting the urge to scrunch up your nose. “And who is this gorgeous creature?”

Your eyes snapped back to Selby, giving her a slightly bashful smile. “Celeste Addams. Pleasure.”

“Trust me, dear. The pleasure is all mine.” Alright, you thought as she scanned you with a smirk. She was swinging for both teams. You could work with that. “What’s the offer?” She looked back to Zemo.

Zemo gave her the offer - information about the super soldier serum for the Winter Soldier and the code words to control him. Your blood boiled as Zemo touched Bucky, fingers grabbing his chin. You swore, once this whole thing was over, you would kick Zemo’s ass. You should make a list, just to keep track of all the things he’d done, and no doubt would do, to piss you off. That way he’d know why exactly you were beating his ass.

A name came up, Dr. Wilfred Nagel, along with the knowledge that the super soldier serum was, in fact, in Madripoor. You and Sam met eyes. Second step down.

But before they could get anything else, Sam’s phone buzzed. You ducked your head, closing your eyes, mumbling “fuck” when you saw it was Sarah. Sam’s responses just made you inwardly cringe even more.

“The bank, yeah. We laundered so much mo-” He chuckled nervously. “Yeah. They’ll come around.”

Is he fucking serious? For the love of God, Sammy…

And then she called him Sam. Next thing you knew, Selby was shot and you, Bucky, and Sam were taking out a guard each, you growling at the fact that you couldn’t use your legs because the dress was too damn tight.

You had no choice but to trust Zemo’s lead, but word traveled very quickly here, and less than a minute after walking outside, you were getting shot at.

“C’mon!” Bucky grabbed your arm, pulling you besides him.

“Can you not right now?!”

“I can’t run in these heels!”

You glared at Sam, the killer six inchers on your feet feeling like hell. “Hell no! You did not just say that in front of me!”

“You started it!” You scowled at him, following Bucky into an alley, only to duck as shots rang out. Chest heaving, you looked around for the source of the bullets that killed the men chasing you. Your “guardian angel” as Zemo put it.

She soon appeared in all her stunning, blonde badass glory. “Sharon?”

Sam quickly explained the situation, trying to get her not to shoot Zemo who she had a gun pointed at.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass,” she pointed the gun at Sam, then Bucky, “so that you could save his ass, from his ass.” And the gun was back on Zemo. She shot you a smile. “And your ass is looking beautiful as always.”

You grinned back. “Thanks. You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

As she spoke, your lips turned down. You had tried calling her after Germany, but it always went to voicemail. First thing you did when you got back was try to get everyone pardoned, but it was a process. And then you found out about Wanda and ever since…

Sharon was your first real friend. She was only a couple years younger than you and had been one of your first partners during your time with SHIELD. And the fact that she’d been on the run for years now, even with the Blip, her family not having seen or talked to her since…that was exactly why you couldn’t take a break. She was family and you found there was nothing more important than family. But when she needed you, you were out searching for someone who didn’t want to be found.

How were you supposed to choose between two sisters? How could you cope with the fact that you chose the wrong one?

“Sharon, we need your help.” She laughed at Bucky’s statement. “Please,”

She glanced at you and you nodded. “I’d appreciate it, Share.”

She gave a sigh before nodding. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town. You should be safe there for a while.”

She turned and started walking, and you were about to follow, when you remembered something.

Spinning around, your fist connected with Zemo’s cheek, Sam and Bucky shouting in surprise while the man stumbled back. “Don’t you fucking dare touch him like that ever again, or I will break every bone in your body.” You threatened, your expression twisting into a scowl as you grab his hand and bend it awkwardly. He grunted but didn’t move, knowing one wrong turn would break his wrist. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” He ground out.

You pushed a little more, making him wince, before letting go and rounding back to Sharon, who was smirking at you. “Let’s get moving.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She jerked her head back over her shoulder to where a car was waiting, leading them over.

You quickly followed after her with Bucky on your heels and Sam dragging Zemo along. Speaking of heels, as soon as you got in the car - getting shotgun for the first time ever at Sharon’s insistence - you prodded the stupid shoes off your feet.

“Nice kicks.”

“Yeah.” You scoffed. “Unless you’re trying to kick.”

“Did you rip the dress?”

“I was tempted to.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you in something more comfortable. And you’ll look just as good. Not that you wouldn’t look good in literally anything.”

You chuckled, giving her a look. “Let’s not test that theory.”

She smiled back, nodding. “Fine. I’ll let you pick something out.”

Sam huffed, crossing his arms best he could, being squished with the two other fully grown men in the back seat. “Women.”

The two of you exchanged looks, rolling your eyes at the three pouting guys. “Men.”

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

“I’m gonna go check on the boys. But I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, looking through her closet. No dresses. And absolutely no heels. Flats, if you had to, but you’d definitely prefer sneakers right now. You decided on shorts and an off-the-shoulder blouse, grateful for the looser clothing.

“They’re idiots.”

You laughed and looked over at the door as Sharon entered. “Yeah. I know.”

“Cute.” She commented on your outfit, sitting on her bed. “They explained the situation. Sam said if I help, he’d clear my name-”

“Sharon.” You sighed, biting your lip. “I tried. I really did. I-”

She shook her head, smiling at you reassuringly. “No, I know. It’s why I’m not mad at you. Sorry I didn’t call back. How’ve you been?”

You shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”

“Even with the whole ‘Cap is back’ thing.”

“Walker’s the government’s pet. He’s not Captain America. He’s not…”

“Steve?”

Looking up at her from the ground, you nodded. “Yeah.”

“Do you miss him?”

You smirked, wagging your eyebrows at her. “Do you?”

She rolled her eyes, tossing a pillow at you. “It’s kinda weird now, isn’t it?”

“Maybe a little. But I can’t blame you. Have you seen him shirtless? Good God.”

Sharon laughed, shaking her head as you joined her on the bed. “How come it’s always you getting wrapped up in these things?”

“I have no clue.” You chuckled, crossing your legs underneath you. “First I’m answering a phone call from Bucky at five in the morning and next thing I know, I’m being kicked off of semi trucks, breaking criminals out of prisons and running in six inch heels.”

“You answer Bucky’s calls at five in the morning?”

You gave her a look. “Sharon-”

“No, no. Hey. That’s cool. Some girls like bad boys, some like jocks, others like nerds. You like super soldiers from the 40’s. Everyone’s got a thing.”

A playful shove turned into a pillow fight, which turned into a sparring session, during which you pin her on her back. “You’re getting better.” You complimented, getting up.

She glared at you, taking your outstretched hand and letting you pull her up. “I guess that’s why you’re an Avenger.”

“That’s still weird to say.”

“Why? You’ve been an Avenger since, what? Ultron?”

You nodded, straightening your clothes. “Officially, anyways.”

“Right. Because you were there for the Battle of Manhattan as the secret seventh superhero.”

“Yeah…I miss it. The anonymity. I’m pretty sure I’m one half the Senators’ speed dials.”

Sharon frowned, brows pinching together. “What about the other half of the OG? Where are they?”

“Thor’s in space, Bruce is MIA - which I can’t really blame him for - and Clint’s retired with his family.”

“You think he’s gonna stay retired?”

You shrugged. “I hope he does. He’s been trying to retire for years. He deserves it. Knowing him, though…probably not.”

Sharon crossed her arms, nodding at you. “So that leaves you.”

“Yes it does.”

“Do you ever think of taking a break?”

You gave a half-sigh, half-groan, making her smirk in amusement. “It’s…come up a lot recently. I dunno. I think I’m burning out, anyways.”

“What makes you say that? I was watching you guys with Selby. You’re still one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

“I-I’ve been having…problems.”

Her eyes narrowed, her hands setting on her hips like a mother about to scold her child. “What kind of problems?”

“Just flashbacks. Of different things. It happens at random times. Certain triggers; something someone says or does, or something I smell or hear.”

“PTSD?”

“Something like that.”

“Has it affected you in the field?” Hesitating to answer was answer enough and she nodded. “Then…maybe it’s time you do start considering retiring.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “At 36? There’s no way.”

“C’mon. It’s not too late for you to settle down. Go one a few dates. Meet someone. Maybe have a couple kids-”

“Woah, woah. Slow your roll.” Your features scrunched up in incredulity. “Pump your breaks. No one said anything about marriage or kids.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying…think about it. I heard even Bucky’s been on a few dates.”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes at her, hearing the suggestive tone in her voice and seeing the eyebrow raise. “Yeah. He has. A few. I told him to. Told him it might be good for him to, I dunno, get back out there.

“Or, you could just…go out there with him.”

“Not you too! Have you been talking to Sam?”

“Is it Steve? Is that what’s stopping you? Because you know he’d just want you to be hap-” She stopped as he phone vibrated, grabbing it and reading the text. “Company’s arriving.” She pointed a finger at you. “You got very very lucky. This conversation isn’t over. I’m not dropping this.”

You bit your cheek and nodded. “Alright, mom. Can we go party now?”

She breathed out a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go party.”

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

“Hey, gorgeous! There you are!”

You smirked at the boys as they met you near the top of the stairs, eyeing Sam and Bucky appreciatively. Damn, could Sam pull off a turtleneck. And Bucky in black and skinny jeans? Sharon sure had good taste. “Today’s the day for attractive outfits, huh, gentlemen?”

“I’ll say.” Bucky hummed, glancing at your own outfit. “You look beautiful, doll.”

“You look very dashing yourself, Barnes.” You grin, pulling at the lapels of his black blazer and fixing the collar. You smoothed your hand down the front of his shirt, looking up at him with an eyebrow raised when he caught your wrist, keeping your palm over his heart.

He clenched his jaw, taking a breath, before letting it out, almost dejectedly, and letting your hand go. “Um,” He cleared his throat, hand falling down by his side. “Did, uh, did Sharon say anything more about these friends of hers to you?”

“Nope.” You shook your head. “Just told me to enjoy the party.”

“I guess we should go enjoy the party, then.” Sam nodded towards the stairs, where the music was floating up, her guests already pouring in.

You made your way downstairs, looking around the room. Sharon sure did know how to throw one, that’s for sure.

People were pushed together, dancing to the beat of the music, drinking, with colored lights flashing every which way. Bucky’s hand found yours almost instantly, and you smiled at him. “C’mon.”

“What?” His eyes were wide as you dragged him towards the groups of people dancing.

“Dance with me.”

He shook his head violently. “I-I can’t.”

“I thought you used to be a dancer?”

“Used to. And I was a swing-dancer. Not…” He gestured around to the people bobbing up and down, moving their bodies with each other.

You waved dismissively, pulling him closer. “All you need to do is feel the beat. I’m sure you can do that, can’t you, Mr. Tough and Scary Assassin?”

He licked his lips, looking around nervously. You brought his hands to your hips, making his eyes snap back to yours, your own arms winding around his neck. You started moving rhythmically, nodding your head to the music, smiling up at him and giggling at the adorable concentration on his face.

“You, uh, you go to parties like this a lot?”

“I specialized in undercover operations, remember? I practically lived at these places for some of them.” He licked his lips, his grasp on your hips tightening. “Loosen up a little.” You laughed, catching his jaw between your fingers and making him look at you instead of the crowd surrounding him. You scratched at the scruff, speaking softly, but loud enough for him to hear. “It’s just me.”

He nodded and, slowly, a bit hesitant, started moving his body with yours, relaxing his tense muscles the longer you two danced.

“Nice hit, by the way. With Zemo earlier.”

You shrugged, turning in his arms, biting your lip when he pulled you closer, your back to his chest. “I didn’t like the way he grabbed you. It was unnecessary. I was thinking of making a list, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Your arms wound around his neck again, your head falling back to his shoulder. “Of things he’s done so far that warrant’s me beating his ass once this is done.”

He chuckled, warm breath tickling your cheek, thumbs tracing circles on the bare skin just above the waistline of your shorts. Your own fingers had found home in his hair holding his head where it was, his lips centimeters away from your ear. “Share it with Sam. I’m sure he has a few things to add.”

Your breath hitched as his metal fingers danced along your bare navel, arm tightening around your waist. “I’m sure he does…I thought you said you can’t dance.”

“I guess I just needed to warm up. I’m a bit rusty after eighty years.”

“Don’t seem that rusty to me.” You breathed out, turning your head to look at him. His tongue ran across his lips again, his eyes glancing to your own.

“Hey, guys!” The world and your situation came crashing down on you, the music you didn’t realize you’d been tuning out, along with the crowd’s boisterous laughter and cheers, rushed back to yours ears. The little bubble with just you and Bucky shattered. You both stepped away from each other; you cleared your throat and pushed down the heat that had nothing to do with the hundred bodies in the one room, while Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, the tips of his ears red with no help from the colored lights. Both of you were panting lightly, avoiding eye contact with the other three staring knowingly at you. Sharon nodded her head, gesturing behind her. “I found him.”

Sam nudged Bucky - who was staring at you, his jaw ticking and his throat tightening as he swallowed thickly - before jabbing his thumb in Sharon’s direction. “Here we go.”

You nodded, eyeing Bucky with a small smile. “Here we go, Buckaroo.”

2K notes · View notes

xjoonchildx · 3 years

Text

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

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

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 6.7K

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

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

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

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

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

The first is that he has to pee.

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

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

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

Your hair is still damp.

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

Which brings him to his next problem.

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

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

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

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

And then he’s drifting off again.

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

This time, Yoongi wakes up alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He has to tell you about that gun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Beautiful,” you sigh.

No kidding, Yoongi thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi sucks in a deep breath.

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

Would have, had you not been there.

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

You press a gentle kiss to his throbbing jaw.

“You still mad at me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guess not,” Yoongi admits with a smile.

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, that’s a loaded question.

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

Instead, he coughs up a weak white lie.

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

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

Tell her about the gun.

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

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

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

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

“Are you religious?” you ask softly.

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

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

Tell her about the gun.

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

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

Almost.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not safe there.”

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

Yoongi shoves a hand through his hair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He could not give a shit.

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

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

“Dammit,” he groans. “Fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi nods weakly, pain still ebbing from his arm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Miss me?”

Hoseok doesn’t answer.

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

“Nope.”

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

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

“I like to stay informed,” Hoseok shrugs.

“Well, I’m trying to talk to you.”

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

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

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

“So apologize then.”

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

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

“A giant asshole,” he corrects dryly.

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

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

“Buy me a drink.”

“Fine,” Yoongi hisses, flagging the bartender.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dr. Lee Geon just looks like a fucking weasel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Change of plans?

Yoongi nods.

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

Lee’s coffee sits abandoned atop the sink ledge.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi stands there and says nothing.

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

“Is there a problem gentlemen?” he croaks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds scary,” Hoseok chuckles.

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

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

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

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

Lee shakes his head slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Resignation letter?” he echoes weakly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kkangpae,” he wheezes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He heads back to the door and holds it open.

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

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

YOU

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

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

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

The buzzing sounds again.

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

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

ko: i have news [ 11:45 AM ]

ko: big news [ 12:22 PM ]

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

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

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

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

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

It made you want to say yes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She leans back, cup in hand.

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

Ko tuts under her breath.

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

You take another sip of water and clear your throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go on.”

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

Ko taps her finger against the side of her teacup.

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

You shift uncomfortably in your chair.

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

You nod weakly.

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

“No,” you mumble. “Definitely not.”

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

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

“If I said no would that stop you?”

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

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

“Yes,” you whisper thickly. “He is.”

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

Her approval.

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

Ko snorts.

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

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

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

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

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

You stare at them and think about Yoongi.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is something wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

You pull it out.

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

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

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

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

tag list!

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

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jeontaeil-archived · 3 years

Text

sexting/phone sex with nct dream (+ sungchan and shotaro) //

pairing: nct dream + sungtaro x fem!reader.

genre: smut.

words: 1.41k+.

warnings: 18+ content.

tagging: @hoehousenet @kdiarynet @chwe-yeeun @hoe2z @jayvoir @lqsience @jisungismymom @rosiehoon @giveortake @choijwiss

mark (copy - pasted from 127's reaction)

you desperately needed him to come over and tend to your needs but unfortunately for you, he was stuck at work. but maybe you were too horny to actually give a shit, so you send him a nice video of yourself as incentive. the video was instant boner material and mark was now in a predicament. you were so out of your mind that you asked him to show you just how much you’d affected him and this bitch really pulled through. so yeah, mutual masturbation through the phone. hotter than it sounds and mark was racing to get home after he’d cummed.

renjun (i went off on his)

you'd left him quite a few missed calls so he decided to call you back once he got a break. when he finally did, he asked what was wrong, genuinely concerned. that's when you shared that you missed him and wanted him to come home. of course he wasn't going to listen to your ridiculous demand. he was in the middle of work. so you figured the only thing you could do was give him some sort of incentive. keeping him on call, you sent him a scandalous photo of yourself. renjun was extremely caught off guard by this. he began scolding you over the phone, warning you that anyone could've seen it. but you didn't care. as long as he'd seen what you needed him to see, your mission had been accomplished. unfortunately however, it wasn't enough to get him to come home. so you blatantly began touching yourself, holding your phone to your ear so that renjun would be able to hear every single sound you made. after that it was boner city for him. he kept telling you to stop but he couldn't seem to hang up on you. he could tell you were close just by the way your moans started getting more shrill. but before he could hear you finish, you went silent, telling him to come home if he wanted to see you cum.

jeno

you both were literally just joking around, talking about whatever when the topic somehow landed on what type of banana jeno's dick resembled and what type of fruit your tits resembled. somewhere in that discussion, you commented about how big his dick was and how much you loved the stretch it gave you. this obviously fuelled his ego and he inquisitively asked you about other things he did to you that you enjoyed. so you left an overly descriptive list for him to read and get flustered over. you also decided to tell him about the things you wanted him to do to you, things so lewd and filthy. he'd never fathomed that you'd be into such corrupted things but he couldn't deny the rush of excitement he felt as he thought about doing those things to you. i used things so much here lmao but please feel free to interpret as you wish.

haechan (copy - pasted from 127's reaction)

he’d called you at the wrong time and you weren’t ready to just let him interrupt you like that. so you let go of any and all shame within yourself and picked up the phone. of course he could hear what was going on and gosh did he turn into a tomato. he went somewhere more private and tried his best not to pop a boner. this was easier said than done. you weren’t exactly being quiet. plus, he hated when you touched yourself. he believed you didn’t have to since you had him. so he told you to stop (if you didn’t then he’d make you pay for it when he got back home). but you were desperate and you really needed to cum. so, he pitied you and guided you through it. though he couldn’t see what you were doing, your moans were enough to help him vaguely imagine what was going on. he still punished you for touching yourself by coming home dreadfully late.

jaemin

he was the one who missed you and was lowkey kinda needy for you. he'd been holed up at work for so long and he couldn't wake to get back home to you. unfortunately for him, his errands were seeming to drag out longer and longer. he was so impatient and desperate that he slipped into a bathroom stall, locked the door, dialled your number and shoved his hand in his pants. when you picked up, he asked you to go to the couch or bed, strip and sit with your legs spread apart. though he couldn't see you, he was sure you were following his instructions. he told you what he was doing and asked you to touch yourself. all he needed was to hear the sound of your pretty moans, chants of his names as you pleased yourself, just as he would've if he were with you. he closed his eyes, imagining himself laying between your thighs, lips wrapped around your clit. he could almost taste you on his tongue. the sounds you let out as you came undone all over your fingers are what pushed him to his own climax. he was satisfied but he knew it wouldn't last long.

chenle

there was no reason for him to but he was bored so he pulled out his phone and asked you to send him a picture of your boobs. he was just being playful so he hadn't expected you to actually send him a nice photo of your bra clad breasts. eyes widening in awe of the sight, he sat up and asked you to send more picture of yourself. he never knew you could be so bold. he was equally impressed and stunned to say the least. all the pictures you were sending him were clearly having their wondrous effects on him. blood rushed to his cock and soon enough he began palming himself subtly. and when you switched to videos. well let's just say he made a small mess while sitting there.

jisung

you both might've done something you didn't usually do the previous night, so you were discussing about the experience. jisung had really enjoyed himself and he wasn't opposed to try it out again some time. based off your texts, it seemed the same could be said for you. your imagination was running wilder than his however. the things you were texting him were so dirty. jisung's face flushed a deep shade of red as he read all the things you'd secretly been desiring. this was all so new to him. he'd never had such lewd conversations with you over the phone. it was definitely hard to do though. he couldn't seem to be able to type straight, constantly fumbling over his words and making numerous typos.

sungchan

you'd gone shopping and since he couldn't come with you, you decided to send him pictures of all the outfits you were trying on. the last picture you'd sent him was one of you in a black body-con dress. sungchan's mouth went dry as he stared at the picture of you. you looked so fucking hot and all he could think about was ripping that tight dress off of you in order to devour your body. he was so riled up that he couldn't refrain from letting you know how he was feeling. you being the tease that you were, took advantage of your poor boyfriend's increasing horniness and began sending him more pictures of yourself, some with the dress' strap hanging off your shoulders while other showed the bottom of your dress hiked up your thigh. gosh he was so damn needy when he finally got to fuck you later on in the day.

shotaro

he was at the company, practicing his dance without realising how long he'd been at work. you kept texting him, asking him when he'd be home. by the time he actually picked up his phone, you sent him about 50 texts, each getting progressively more aggressive and nsfw. your cute pleads morphed into more scandalous reasons for why you needed him to be him so badly. you'd even taken the time to share a nice photo here and there. you'd think that all of this would either turn him on or make him want to rush home to tend to your needs. but it only makes him laugh. he scoffs and sets his phone aside. deliberately leaving you on read so that you'll know he's making you wait on purpose. shotaro's a tease, you didn't hear that from me though.

#nct smut #mark smut #renjun smut #jeno smut #haechan smut #jaemin smut #nct dream smut #sungchan smut #jisung smut #chenle smut #shotaro smut #hoehousenet #kdiarynet

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narutogwriting · 3 years

Text

Ruin the Friendship

⋇✦ Pairing: Naruto Uzumaki x Reader

⋇✦ Genre: angst; fluff; oneshot

⋇✦ CW: none

⋇✦ Length: 2.5k+

⋇✦ @gaarasandpit just a angst/fluff naruto x reader request if you’re up for it 🥰 maybe where the reader and him are somewhat close friends and he notices she’s drifting from him because her feelings get in the way? he’s oblivious and hurt about it then confrontation happens ending up in a good old love confession

“Cmon! Open up!” Naruto called from outside your house, pounding on the door like he had been incessantly for the past five minutes. “I know you’re in there!”

He did not, in fact, know whether or not you were in there, but he couldn’t imagine where else you would be.

All week you’d been missing; Naruto couldn’t find you anywhere. Sometimes he would see the flick of your hair from the corner of his eye or his ears would pick up the sound of your laugh, but by the time he turned to find you, you’d be gone.

Your absence in Naruto’s life wasn’t something of a minor inconvenience; it was a constant pain, as if he was missing a part of his own body. Iruka had joked that Naruto missing you was akin to that of a phantom limb, like there was something of him that should be there and it wasn’t and he ached because of it.

“No, Naruto. We haven’t seen her,” Shikamaru shrugged. Ino nodded her agreement.

“Sorry. Maybe she’s on a mission or something.

Naruto frowned, sighing in frustration. “Alright, well, thanks.” He muttered before he sulked off. Shikamaru and Ino watched him go, waiting until he disappeared before Ino gave you a kick under the table.

“Ow!” you whined as you crawled out from underneath, rubbing your shoulder.

Ino rolled her eyes at you. “You’re lucky Naruto’s an idiot, or he definitely would have seen you.” She told you as you slid yourself down into the seat next to her. “Remind me: why are you avoiding him again?”

Propping your elbows on the table, you rested your head in your hands as you gave a forlorn sigh. That was a loaded question. You were avoiding Naruto because the absolute worse thing that could ever occur had happened.

You’d fallen in love with the idiot blond.

And how could you not? You’d been best friends with Naruto for the longest time. He was a constant in your life, always at your side. It was rare that one of you was seen without the other.

There was no one in the entire world that could make you smile or laugh the way that he could. Whenever you were sad or hurt, he always had the words to make it all better. Naruto had the type of smile that could save people, and you were no exception. There wasn’t a person in the world that could meet someone with a heart like Naruto’s and not walk away changed.

It had been a slow thing, a soft, unsure growing. It wasn’t a feeling you’d recognized at all once, because you always loved Naruto.

It wasn’t totally strange for you to get excited when you saw him or miss him when he was gone. It wasn’t unusual to think about him before you went to sleep.

But when you began to wake up and your first thought was, “my god he’s beautiful” when you looked at the picture of the two of you on your night stand, that was a little strange. You never used to spend extra time in the morning doing your makeup when you knew you were going to see him soon.

And you never used to blush when he smiled at you. Even you could tell you laughed a little too hard when he said something even remotely funny.

It was one day when the two of you were taking a walk that it happened. He was telling you a story, his motions large and exaggerated. Of course, he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. As he turned to you, arms raised high over his head, his foot hit a rock. Naruto went sprawling to the floor, rolling across the ground and landing flat on his back.

You burst out laughing at the scene, hurrying to kneel at his side. “Are you okay!?” You asked him between giggles.

Naruto’s face was bright red with embarrassment as he laid on the floor. He looked up at you, smiling sheepishly. “Oops…”

It was such a simple thing, but you’d looked at Naruto and thought, “I love him so much.”

Nothing had ever startled you more.

Of course you loved Naruto; that was a given. It was never anything that needed to be thought or said. It was just a fact. But as soon as you had thought the words, you knew that it was different this time. You didn’t just love Naruto.

You were in love with him.

You’d hoped that the feelings would fade. Maybe it was just a fluke or a passing crush. Day in and day out, you waited for your feelings to go back to normal, but now that you’d acknowledged them, they only seemed to grow stronger. It got to the point where you couldn’t even look at naruto without turning into a blushing mess. It was pathetic.

So you’d decided there was only one reasonable solution: you would have to avoid him for as long as it took for the feelings to go away.

And of course you didn’t want to stay away from him. Being with him was as natural as breathing. But the way you saw it, if he found out about your feelings, your friendship could be ruined forever. This way, you could take some space, move on, and resume your friendship like nothing happened.

But Naruto wasn’t making that easy.

You hadn’t realized just how much time you and Naruto spent together until you were trying to distance yourself from him. He was everywhere. Every meal, every free moment, he was by your side or trying to be at least.

“Wanna go eat?” “Wanna go train with me?” “Let’s watch a movie!” “I heard there’s gonna be a festival in the next town over!”

You couldn’t get away from him. So this past week, you’d taken to hiding from him every time you saw him, deciding it was easiest to just avoid him completely. In all honesty, you couldn’t believe just how much time and effort Naruto was putting in to trying to find you.

But of course he was putting in effort. Because you were his best friend and he couldn’t understand it; where you’d gone or why you weren’t talking to him. Had he done something wrong? Were you mad at him or something? Your absence in Naruto’s life was drawing out every insecurity he hadn’t even realized he still had. He was worried, drowning in anxiety.

What if you’d decided you didn’t want to be his friend anymore? Maybe you were annoyed with him, found him to be too much. When you and Naruto had first become friends, he thought it was too good to be true. There was no way that someone as nice and pretty and cool as you would want to be friends with him. No one had ever wanted to be his friend before.

But there you were with your sweet smile and calming presence. You had accepted Naruto, every piece of him, without question or reservation. You meant everything to him, so the thought of losing you had sent Naruto into a panic.

You’d managed to avoid Naruto for a full week and a half. The past three days, as far as you knew, he hadn’t even made an effort to find you. It was a relief and heartbreaking all at once. You needed your space, but it hurt to think that maybe Naruto didn’t miss you at all anymore.

These were the thoughts racing through your head when you crawled into bed that night. You doubted you’d be getting much sleep; you’d barely gotten any since you had started avoiding Naruto.

Pulling the covers over yourself, you closed your eyes and tried to get comfortable. It seemed like hours you laid there awake before tiredness finally started to drift over you. You could feel yourself slowly dozing off to sleep when a sudden loud noise startled you awake. Sitting up quickly, your eyes darted to the window where the noise had come from.

Naruto had forcefully pried open the window, shoving himself not-so-gracefully through the opening and crashing onto the floor.

He quickly jumped to his feet, rubbing his head with a small wince before his eyes landed on you, widening slightly.

“Ah ha! I got you!” He shouted victoriously, pointing his finger in your direction. “You can’t hide from me anymore, believe it!”

God, he was too cute for words and that was exactly the problem. Your heart practically burst just looking at him as he appeared so accomplished and excited.

But the triumphant look on his face slowly vanished as he stared at you. When he spoke, his voice came out quietly, dripping with dejection. “Where have you been?”

Quietness settled over the room as the two of you stared at each other. Naruto made no move to get closer to you, and you likewise stayed strapped in your seat. “I’m sorry…” You offered weakly, unsure of what else to say.

“Don’t be sorry!” Naruto snapped, anger quickly replacing his despaired features. “Tell me why! What the hell? You think you can just avoid a guy? Cut me off like I’m nothing to you!?” He was trembling, his usual happy grin twisted into a broken grimace so despondent it took you off guard. You had caused that hurt that Naruto was feeling. The thought made you sick.

“If you don’t want to be my friend anymore, at least say something!” Naruto spat. “Don’t just run from me like a coward! If you have something to say, say it to my face!”

There was a harsh edge to Naruto’s voice that he never used with you before. Not in all of your years of friendship. You realized suddenly just how badly you’d hurt Naruto by avoiding him. It wasn’t something you’d considered; you’d only wanted some space so you could get back to normal with him.

But you saw it clearly now, the damage that you had done. Suddenly, in this moment, he was the lonely, isolated child that he had been before you met, feeling alone and abandoned in the world. And this time, it was because of you.

The regret was like bile on your tongue, and you wished fiercely that you could take back the past week and do it differently. You couldn’t stand the thought that it was you who had caused this damage to your best friend, the guy you loved so much.

You didn’t have any words to fix it. All you had was the truth.

“I love you.”

The words slipped from your mouth before you could pull them back in. And once they were out, they couldn’t be taken back.

Confusion quickly settled on Naruto’s face. It was as if you could see the anger dissipate from his body. He stared at you, mouth slightly agape, while he tried to process what you’d just said. “You… What?”

Turning bright red, you pulled the blanket back over your head in embarrassment. You couldn’t believe you’d just said that! Now there would never be any going back to the way that things were, but you had to tell him. You couldn’t just let him think that you were cutting him off without reason.

“I said I love you…” You muttered from under the blanket. “I’m in love with you, Naruto. I have been for a while now, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. So I thought if I just took some space and didn’t see you for a while, then maybe I would get over it, and then we could just keep things the way they were…”

It was much easier to get the words out when you were under the blanket and couldn’t see him, but you were still nauseous with anxiety as you told him how you felt. Your heart was steeling itself for rejection as you waited for his response.

The only noise was shuffling as Naruto came to your bed. You could feel the indent as he sat down next to you. He grabbed your blanket, slowly peeling it off of you and despite your reluctance, you let him.

You didn’t look at him as you pushed yourself back up into a sitting position. You’d never been so embarrassed before.

“Did it work?” He asked you quietly.

Fidgeting with the hem of your night shirt, you mumbled, “Did what work?”

“Are you over me?”

The question took you off guard, lingering between the two of you, and you couldn’t help but flicker your eyes to his. He was staring earnestly at you with those wide blue eyes you loved so much. You wanted to lie to him but you just couldn’t.

“No.”

Naruto’s focused expression stretched into a wide grin as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you to him. You were too startled to respond, so you just stared at him, confused, instead.

“You scared me!” Naruto laughed happily as he rested his cheek against your head. “I thought you didn’t want to be my friend anymore! You didn’t have to completely avoid me, ya know.”

There was a mix of relief and disappointment at his reaction. So, he wasn’t weirded out about your confession? Things didn’t have to change. The two of you could stay ‘just friends.’

“So, we’re okay?” You asked him nervously. “We’re still friends?”

Naruto gave a puzzled hum as he pulled away from the hug to stare at you. He raised his eyebrow as he studied you for a moment. You could almost see the light bulb go off above his head as he realized.

“Oh!” He laughed, grinning sheepishly and rubbing his neck. “I guess I forgot to tell you it back, huh? I thought it was obvious! I love you too, believe it!”

You blinked as he giggled embarrassedly, that signature smile of his on his lips. “Naruto!” You snapped at him, lunging and knocking you both off the bed. He landed on his back with you on top of him as you rubbed your fist into his head. “You dummy!”

“Hey! Cut it out!” Naruto whined, squirming under your touch. “Is that any way to treat your boyfriend!?”

The question was enough to make you stop, your mouth frozen in a surprised “o” shape, just like he hoped. He laughed, sitting up and holding you to him before he placed a happy kiss to your cheek, making your face flush over red.

You placed your hands on his shoulders, looking at him as it finally sunk in what he said. He loved you too. He called himself your boyfriend. “Is that your way of asking me?” You questioned.

Naruto nodded earnestly. “And my way to get you to stop giving me a noogie! It’s a win win! Well, if you say yes, that is…”

Shaking your head, you laughed as your whole body softened in relief. Your arms slipped around his neck as you hugged him tightly. “Yes, obviously!” You told him. “Yes! I love you.” Naruto hugged you back just as fiercely. When he finally pulled away, he didn’t hesitate. His hand reached up to cup your cheek as he leaned forward, pressing a sweet, soft kiss to your lips.

Well, you guessed your friendship was officially ruined. But suddenly, you didn’t mind so much.

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