#you know how boring it would be to see him remain an asshole forever. to never see growth or anything | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

staytinyhoe · 2 years

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That's What Brats Get

2Chan ( Chan x Changbin x Y/N )

Description: You are sitting in the studio bored while waiting on your two boyfriends to finish up work but they are taking forever and you just want a little bit of attention. Is that so hard to deliver?

Warning: Smut, Little bit of name calling, Reader becomes a little bratty, Oral female receiving, Reader gets tied up with a belt, Reader cries a little bit, Orgasm denial, Male masterbation, Changbin likes to watch

Word Count: 3674

Psa: This is my first ever posting something I written I had this In my drafts for a while I thought why not finish it and post it so here it is. And most of stories I had either dreamed or thought about from the top of my head

It seems like I made a lot of mistakes tonight without even realizing that I did and it's really not my fault if we're being honest. I wasn't trying to act like a brat, it just decided to come out. You see Chan and Changbin were busy preparing for the comeback and i knew that but i also felt very lonely. I didn't want all of their attention, a little bit would have been just fine but they have completely ignored me and I'm so sick of it. Us 3 have been in a poly relationship and have been dating for the past 3 years now and don't get me wrong i love these boys with all my heart and would anything for them but a girl need a little loving too. Me and Changbin was dating first ( well not really) we met at the gym. One day i was working out and these guys decided to be assholes and try to cop a feel on me but luckily Changbin was there to help me out. Well after that we became gym buddies and then we became best buddies. After hanging out at the gym Changbin out of nowhere asked me out on a date and of course I said yes, after going on a couple of dates that's when Chan came along.

Chan and Changbin was really close everytime seen them around changbins house or we would be at the park and Chan would somehow hold his attention. And i kinda had my suspicions that something was going between those two and i can't say that my feelings wasn't hurt when Changbin had told me he and Chan was in a relationship. I mean i kinda figured that out when they was always either hugging or like holding hands when they thought no one was paying attention them. But things turned around when they both announced that they both had feelings for me. i was shocked and didn't know what to do especially about Chan since i didnt know him that well. That's when they told me they were looking for a 3 person join inon the relationship and asked if I wanted to give it a try and if I didn't like then fine and we would remain friends. So I decided to give it a try and started going on dates with both of them or going 1 on 1 and well you can guess the rest.

We were inside of the JYP building chilling in one of the studios that was being used to record Chans Room . After finishing the Vlive with Changbin as a guest they decided to work on the comeback for a bit. I didn't really mind sitting with them and keeping them company. I mean I don't really see them alot because of how tightly packed their schedule is. So spending time with them even if it is in their studio is just fine by me. I'm just happy to be by their side.

“ Channie I know you said give you and Binnie some time but I'm really bored and need something to do'' I say as I give out a little huff, because why don't they understand that I'm bored and need just a little bit of attention. I mean i dont think I'm asking for a lot here. Just a little cuddling or even a quick kiss on the lips and I will be satisfied. I just need a little something to calm me down. “ I know baby but I promise you we are almost done and when we are we can do whatever it is you want to do but you just have to be patient princess” Chan says to me while turning his head slightly to acknowledge me.

“But I don't want to wait any longer!!. I want to do something right now”, I say while giving a little pout and crossing my arms . I was starting to get a little annoyed by now as I have been sitting here scrolling through my phone and playing games to try and pass time and yet it was not working. “ Aww come on y/n don't be like that now Chan just told you to give us a little ti-. I gave out a big sigh cutting Changbin off in the middle of his sentence without thinking twice and that right there was the first mistake of the night. “ No,'' I said I'm tired of waiting around bored. Why can't one of you give me attention?!!” I said jumping up and stomping my feet like a little baby. I know I'm being a bit childish but I want attention and I want it now.

As I was throwing a little fit I failed to realize the look that the two of them shared. it seems as if they came to some sort of agreement without talking but like i said i was too busy not paying attention. “Look princess I don't know what has gotten into you, but I know for a fact that neither me nor Chan like it”. Changbin says as he stands up and Chan turns completely in the chair to watch the scene unfold right in front of him. “So i suggest that you behave yourself right now or we are going to have a problem” Changbin challenges as he steps a little closer to me while crossing his arms making his muscles bulging in his all black shirt.

My 2nd mistake was that I just didn't give up after they told me no the second time but I'm the type of person to stick to what I believe and I believe that I should get attention when I haven't gotten it in a while so with that being said I decided to stand my ground. “No!!'' I say while stepping closer to changbin while maintaining eye contact . Changbin raises his eyebrow at me and then proceeds to turn around and look at Chan who just shrugs his shoulders with a smirk on his face. I clear my throat and they both look back at me. “ I dont think it's fair that you guys have not been paying attention to me right now and I don't like it.”

“Oh really Chan says you don't like how we are acting that's quite hilarious don't you think Bin?.” Chans turns his head to his boyfriend who has been staring at me with a little smirk on his face. He lets out a little laugh, “ I do think it's quite funny Chan baby thinks she can talk to us like this and get what she wants ” he says shaking his head.

“ Well I don't think it's funny and neither should you”. I say rolling my eyes and stomping my feet a little bit to get my point across. “ I want attention and I want it now!!” See here is where my 3rd mistake came in, getting fed up with my attitude Chan finally stands up walking towards me without breaking eye contact. I slowly start to back away but before I can Chan reaches out and grabs my jaw between his fingers and roughly squeezes my cheeks, I let out a little whimper as he looks at me with a little bit of lust disguised as anger in his eye. Chan hates when i get bratty but on the other hand Changbin loves it. “Bin make sure the door is locked we wouldn't want anyone to come in to see us punishing our little brat now would we?”. He says to Changbin without breaking eye contact with me as I try to pull my face away from his hands but to no avail I wasn't able to get out of his strong grip. “ I'm not a brat.” I mumble while watching Changbin from the corner of my eye. I can see him walking over to the door peeking out of it to make sure no one is around and then closing and locking the door. “Oh really?” Chan says, pulling my face closer to his “So you're not acting like a brat?”.

“No I'm not being a brat!”. I say as I try to shake my head. His other hand slowly comes up and I grab onto his wrist as it goes to squeeze my neck just a little bit. “Oh really so you weren't being a brat a couple of minutes ago when you were stomping your feet and huffing and puffing?”. Changbin says as he walks up behind me running his hands up and down my side, as i slowly start to lose my resolve being between these two it's just something about binnies hands running and down my body and his face resting against my neck while Chans hands are around my throat slowly giving little squeezes while he is looking down at me with that predatory gaze of his i just can't help but my lip looking at these men.

I can't help but rub my thighs together and give out little breathy moans as Changbin breath hits my neck. “ I asked you a question, princess were you or were you not acting like a little brat a couple of minutes ago?”. Changbin says while biting down softly on my neck by this time Chan has already let go of my face, I let out a little moan. “ No, I said I wasn't being a brat!”. I answer while rolling my eyes and try pushing Changbins arms off of me but before I could succeed Chan is turning me around to face Changbin who suddenly grabs me by my hair and pulls my head to the side. I quickly try to reach up and grab his wrist but Chan grabs my arms holding them tight behind my back.

“ If i was you i would lose the fucking attuide princess cause right now you are playing a dangerous game and trust believe you would not like the outcome of it. So stop acting like a fucking brat and behave”. Changbin says with a growl. “ Or what?!”. I say while challegening him. He then looks up and Cahn behind me and for a moment everything goes quiet and thats when i realized i had fucked up and there was no going back. “ I see”, Changbin nods his head and steps away while unbuckling his pants. As he snatches off his belt and hands it to Chan who is still behind me, he accepts the belt and ties it around my wrist and starts to lead to the couch in the studio. Chan then turns me around and pushes me down on the couch so now I'm lying on the couch with my hands behind my back.

“ What are you do-?!”, “Shut the hell up, did I tell you to speak!?. I don't think you understand the position you are in, baby girl, I don't want to hear a word out of you. Do you understand me?”. I shake my head yes, “ Good girl now relax and I'm going to give you the attention you want”. Chan leans down, so we are face to face and his lips are ghosting on top of mine. I try to reach up to kiss him but he pulls away. I give out a little whine and that's when he finally gives in and kisses me. I felt like I was in heaven with how soft his lips were on mine. He lightly bit my lip making me open my mouth just for him to slip his tongue in my mouth. I moan out at the feeling of his tongue in my mouth. The kiss is starting to get hot and heavy as I slowly start to grind up into him. I can feel his cock starting to strain in his pants. “ Look at the little brat, it's like she is in heat with the way she is grinding into you”. Changbin says while letting out a dark seductive chuckle. I moan out hearing his deep voice.

Chan's hands slowly start running up and down my sides until his hands start to zip down the zipper on my jacket he slowly stops and looks at me while raising his eyebrow. “No shirt today. Such a slutty little brat”. He says as his hands run down my skin until they stop at my pants. “Maybe this was her plan the whole time just to get fucked in the studio”. Chandbin says from behind Chan.

I lift my head and see Changbin sitting in one of the chairs with his shirt off. He looks so good that I just moan at the sight of just sitting there with that sexy smirk on his face. I'm seriously going to need him to stop going to the gym cause it's not good for my heart. Chan grabs my face, turning my attention back on him as he plays with the buttons of my pants. “Pay attention to me princess, I need you to lift your hips up”. I slightly lift my hips so he can take off my pants and i shiver just a little bit as the wind hits my skin

Chan hands run and down legs trying to warm me up a little bit as he lifts one of my legs and kisses my calf, while looking up at me. “Where do you want me princess? Do you want me here?” he says while running his fingers on lips. “Or here?”, while his finger ran down my neck and stomach. “Or maybe you want me?”. He says as he presses a finger to clothe core my breath hitches just a little.

“Yes Yes Please!!”I say while arching my back a little hoping he will hurry up and do something but he just lets out a little chuckle and pulls my panties to the side and presses against my clit, rubbing slight circles. My back arches off the couch as i let out a moan, “Please please don't tease!!” I started to beg Chan. “Aww baby is so desperate to get her pussy ate Chan maybe you should give her what she wants.” Changbin says while letting out a little chuckle, “ I would hate for baby to miss out on an amazing orgasm”.

“ I'll be good i promise just please make cum please Chanie!!!”. I moan out as I buck my hips up towards his face. “ Ok ok baby relax i'm going to take care of you”. Chan says, pining my hips to the couch and finally attaching his mouth to my core.

‘ Fuck baby!!!”. Chan mouth is like heaven on earth, it's something you can never get tired of. Just the way his soft lips wrap around my clit and the way his tongue licks up and down making sure to reach places I never knew he could reach. The chan worked his tongue so well that he had you seeing stars instantly. “ Oh my god baby please!!”. I can’t help but rock my cunt up and down his face. “Yea, does it feel good princess? Are you going to come just from Channie fucking you with his tongue? My gosh aren't you such a slut”. I hear Changbin's voice which is very surprising with how loud I am. I just know the people out the door can us in here. Changbin dirty talk is pushing me closer to my orgasm and he knows this from the smirk that is resting on his face. “ Fuck im going to cum please don’t stop!”. “ Yea baby you gonna cum?”. Oh god yes. Can i please cum?”. “ Of course baby go ahead cum for us like the good girl you are”. I should have known something wasn't right the moment he gave me the okay to cum but at this i didn't care i was just happy to be getting the attention i wanted.

My stomach was starting to tighten and everything started to turn white as Chan sucked ever harder on my clit making me come so close cumming it was right there and I could feel. It was like tasting your favorite food in a long time. It was to the point where I could taste it on my tongue and I just couldn't wait to have it. But like I said it was too good to be true because it was at that moment Chan decided to pull away from me before I could cum. He backs up and it takes me a moment to register everything that just happened since I'm still kinda out of it even though I didn't even cum yet. Once I settled down and caught my breath I looked over to see Chan snatching his shirt off and sitting down in the chair next to Changbin. They both have their pants and boxers down to their knees and their hard cocks resting against their stomach pre cum leaking from the tip. I unconsciously lick my lips watching it just drip down the side of their ccoks. “ Look Changbin, I think the baby wants a little taste.” I nodded my head without even knowing it.

“ But why did you stop?”. I ask without taking my eyes off of their cock. It was so thick and long and felt wonderful on my tongue. All I really want to do is just feel both of their cocks on my tongue. “ Did you really think you were going to cum after acting like such a brat today?”. Changbin says while slowly stroking his cock spreading his precum all over his cock as lube. I honestly don't know he lasted so long without touching himself. “ Bad girls don't get to cum baby and you know this' . “But” I start to say but Chan cuts me off.

“But nothing baby this is your punishment now lay there and take it like a good girl you are ''. And that's when I realized what was happening. “Please please no,anything but that please!!”. I begged out as i watch them both stroke their cock as i tried to reach out to them but then i remember my arms was still tied. “Please don't do it, I promise I'll be good!”. “You should've thought about that before acting like a brat,” Chan groans.

The studio started to fill up with their groans and grunts and started to feel really hot and steamy and I couldn't take my eyes off of them. The way that they had their head thrown back, neck on full view and with little sweat beads running down their neck. As their abs start to clench as they are getting close to their orgams. Just the way their veiny hands are stroking their cock and the way the pre cum is dripping down their fingers just does something to me and I can't help but moan out and rub my thighs together. “Oh Fuck!!” I hear Changbin moan out. “ Im so fucking close” “Me too Binne”. Chan says as he grips his cock a little harder “ Please don’t cum!”. I start to cry out as tears start to form in my eyes.

This was one of the punishments I hate the most because of the outcome. They always make sure I cum before them and the only time that they ever cum before me is when I know I won't be cumming at all for the next couple of days. “Please please don’t I promise I'll be good please just don’t cum”. I say practically crying but the pleas fall on deaf ears as they both cum all over their hands and stomach with loud groans. I hang my head down low as the tears finally start falling down my cheeks.

I felt hands start to lift me to sit up and I look up to see Changbin and he starts reaching over me to untie my hands from behind my back. “Aww my poor baby” He says as he cups my face. “ Did you learn your lesson princess?”. “ Yes Binnie i did i promise i won't be a brat anymore that's my good girl come on let's get cleaned up so we can go home and shower”. He says standing up and holding out his hand to help steady me. Chan walks up to me handing me a bottle of water from god knows where. “ Here you go baby”, “Thank you, when we get home can we please watch some cartoons and cuddle”. I say looking up at the both of them chan lets out a chuckle and pulls me into a hug “Of course we can princess”.

Once we finished cleaning up the studio we went home, took shower, and put on our pajamas. Me and Changbin were waiting for Chan to finish in the kitchen so we can start our cuddling sessions so we can sleep. “ Baby I just want you to know that me and Chan love you so much and that we would do anything for you. I'm sorry if you felt like we aren't giving you enough attention but now that we got some time and most of the songs are done we can spend some more time together”? Changbin as he tries to stay awake. I looked over at him and just gave him the biggest i could give and at that moment i felt chan climb in on the other side. “ I love you guys so much”. I say as I doze off surrounded by the warmth of my boyfriends.

We love you too.

#stray kids #bangchan #changbin #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #skz smut #skz bang chan #skz changbin #stray kids poly #kpop #kpop smut #kpop fluff #stray kids imagine #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids scenarios #stray kids hard hours #kpop scenarios #kpop imagine #skz kpop

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yoonpobs · 3 years

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bad boy good thing vii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 4, 627

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

Despite being friends with three (well, now four) people on the football team—you didn’t fancy attending football games at all. It was highly unlike the usual scene you were comfortable with. It was loud, rowdy and people didn’t understand the concept of personal space when they’d shove and push others aside just to get a better glimpse of the players on the field.

Yet, you attended every single one of the football games—and you were a familiar enough face that the coach smiles at you when you hover outside the changing rooms; a simple request from the captain himself.

You’re a little shocked at yourself at the fact that you had no idea who Namjoon was prior to his introduction. He was the captain of the current football team, which apparently, throughout your college’s history—brought the most wins ever. And, he was also well-known that lecturers applauded him for his impeccable work-to-life balance.

Somehow, the divulgence of your own thoughts makes you frown. Because perhaps you were truly anti-social. You weren’t even acquainted with common school affairs in spite of being apart of the student council.

Maybe Jungkook was right.

You don’t dwell too much on your thoughts because you’re unable to, not when the door slams open and bodies of college men pour out with large shouts and their padded shoulders—looking very much prepared for their game.

The anxiety settles into the pit of your stomach when you realise you stick out like a sore thumb. The jeans and white top you were wearing was quite a typical outfit to wear to a game, with the addition of ironically—a baseball jacket. But when you were definitely smaller than the footballers; it was hard not to feel out of place.

Especially when they look you over before continuing out to the field. While you attended games before, you were never asked to meet in the changing rooms. Jimin and Taehyung knew well enough not to ask you, and Jungkook … well. You were always his dirty little secret, weren’t you?

And you see Jungkook first, grinning like a madman when another footballer brings him into a headlock and hollers something you assume is their hype-cheer.

It isn’t supposed to feel like this. Things were meant to have been settled, but the tight feeling in your chest when you look at him only reminds you that some things were hard to erase.

Before you can look away, Jungkook spots you—and he pushes the arms of his teammate off ever so slightly before turning to him and muttering a few words before he’s stalking towards you.

Your eyes widen, definitely not expecting him to pay you any mind.

“You’re here?” He furrows his brows.

You clear your throat, and you realise navigating a conversation with him after what’s transpired is much harder than you expected it to be. The fact that he was so casual about it when he left you with a kiss on your forehead makes you even more conflicted.

“I am.” You mumble. “I told you, remember?”

Jungkook blinks as if he remembers something, and his expression hardens ever so slightly before he’s schooling his features.

“Yeah.” He breathes. “I knew that. Just didn’t know you’d be … here.”

Here was probably referring to standing outside the changing rooms, and you can’t help but flush at the declaration.

“Um, yeah. Namjoon—” Before you can finish your sentence, you see the captain heading towards you with a large grin; looking over Jungkook for a brief moment.

“You’re here!” His words are exactly the same as Jungkook’s, but it evokes a different set of emotions in your chest.

You smile as sincerely as you can, which is proven difficult when you can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you.

“I am.” And you repeat the same thing you said to Jungkook. It feels odd, but you push the feelings aside. “Good luck, you.”

You offer a small punch to his shoulder, an awkward attempt at supporting him and you almost apologise but Namjoon smiles even wider.

His hand reaches out to your hair, gently patting it as he looks at you fondly. You don’t think anyone’s ever treated you so … tenderly before, not upfront and after one meeting at least. And you’re definitely flustered.

“Thank you. It means a lot that you’re here.” His dimples are on full show when he looks down at you with a kind gaze.

You clear your throat and look away, hoping the dim lights didn’t amplify the blush on your cheeks.

“Of course. We have that exhibition next to look forward to if all else goes South.” You grin cheekily up at him, words still soft.

You hope that your joke doesn’t rub him the wrong way, and it doesn’t because he snorts in response. All while Jungkook is silent.

“That’s a win itself, isn’t it?” He says smoothly, and your eyes widen at his blatant—or at least you think—flirting.

And before you can splutter a response, Jungkook is nudging Namjoon’s arm with his shoulder, the movement slightly rougher with his shoulder pads in place.

“We gotta go, Cap,” Jungkook says stiffly.

Namjoon doesn’t realise the hostility in his tone, but you do. And you frown ever so slightly, but you cover it up when Namjoon looks over at you with an apologetic expression.

“I’ll see you after the game?” He asks, eyes lighting up.

Your lips tilt upwards and you nod your head.

“Yeah.”

Namjoon jogs off first, not before grabbing his protective gear as Jungkook lingers ever so slightly, stuttering in his feet as you have the vision of his back towards you.

You’re about to head towards the bleachers, a spot that Namjoon purposefully reserved for you with help of his coach; but Jungkook turns around and his face is hesitant.

“Will you …” He swallows as you raise an eyebrow at his uncertainty. “Will you cheer for me?”

The question is odd, especially when you know that he’s aware that you were here for Namjoon. Usually, that would imply that you were rooting for him. But, you’ve never been able to say no to Jungkook. Not even when you want him to feel the same hurt you’ve felt.

“What friends are for, right?” You mumble, eyes darting to the ground for a second until you look back up at him again.

What you don’t say is that friends don’t do the things we did, or that there was no manual to teach you how to navigate the throes of your relationship after everything that’s happened. Nor do you tell Jungkook that you’re always cheering him on, but you can’t do it outwardly. Not tonight. Not for a while, too.

Jungkook’s face falls obscurely, but he forces a tight smile before grabbing his protective gear too.

“I’ll look for you,” Jungkook says.

Then he’s off, with a squeeze to your shoulder that leaves your heart feeling a lot heavier.

You ended up sitting next to the school photographer, who you now know as Yena. Prior to this, you’ve heard the student reporter club have a few intense individuals apart of them—word you heard from Yoongi, the President himself—and he was already as intimidating as one could get. But there was Yena, who essentially made people cower in fear when they’d make eye contact with her.

“What are you doing here?” Is the first thing she asks when you slide into your seat. Her tone isn’t condescending, neither was it purposely made to make you feel uncomfortable. Rather, she asked it in a rather bored tone—as if there were better things she could be doing.

“Um.” You squeak.

Yena rolls her eyes, “Relax. I’m not going to bite your head off despite my grotesque appearance. Ever heard of a conversation starter?”

You blink.

“You’re very pretty.” You say softly.

Yena narrows her eyes at you for what seems like forever as you clear your throat. Then, she snorts before patting you on the shoulder.

“I didn’t mean objectively ugly, sweetheart.”

The tilt of her lips make your ears flush and you never found yourself downright intimidated by someone, but there was something about her that made you want to listen to her.

“O-Oh.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re too nice, _____. Has anyone ever told you that?” She emphasises her point with a tilt of her head.

“N-Not really …” You mumble.

She sighs as she kicks her feet on top of the railings in front of her while her eyes follow the line of footballers that pour onto the field, already moving towards a group huddle.

Her camera is already in her hands when she snaps the shot like second nature, before plopping back into her seat.

“Well, you are. People are gonna eat you alive, you know?” She says pointedly.

You fiddle with your fingers before you find the courage to look at her.

“How did you know who I was?” You wonder out loud with furrowed brows.

Yena scoffs before turning to look at you with a blank expression. And it’s the worst part in you that makes you think that you’ve said something wrong.

“You’re kidding, right?” She deadpans. “Girl who made honours three years in a row? First female student council president? Lecturers pet? Curve-setter? The list goes on, really.”

You flush as you turn your head away.

“I didn’t mean …” You mutter.

She waves you off. “You don’t have to sound so guilty about it. You’re smart and you’re capable. Own it.” She shrugs.

You blink up at her with wide eyes, and for the first time; she properly looks at you and your surprised expression.

“Thank you.” You say softly.

When a whistle blows, the game has somehow started and you have half the mind to begin cheering like the rest of the crowd. But the awkward part of you remains rooted in position.

“So.” Yena leans in with a grin on her face. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

It’s … odd. Purely because you’ve never spoken to her before and you’ve briefly heard about her in passing when you communicate with Yoongi on pastoral affairs. And for someone to speak to you so freely and casually, like you’ve been friends for years—feels nice.

And it’s probably also because you didn’t have any girl friends that you could really trust. People on campus were … they were mean and they usually wanted something from you, whether it was to get to one of your friends or get insights on events so they’d get a boost on their reputation.

“Earth to _____?” She drawls.

You snap your head towards her and your ears turn red once again.

“There’s isn’t … any guy.” You confess.

Yena snorts as if she doesn’t believe you.

“Really now?” Her grin approaches a smile when she rests her chin on her palm. “You know not just anyone sits here, right?”

You shrug. “What about you? Who’s the lucky guy?”

She blinks, then leans back before kicking one leg across her other.

“Photographer pros. Or cons. Especially if you consider watching disgusting men sweat and chase after balls is something to be grateful for.” She rolls her eyes.

You laugh when she complains, and it’s likely the first time you’ve relaxed your shoulders around her.

“That does sound kind of gross.”

She nods her head as if to say right, before offering you a cheeky grin.

Then, her eyes zero onto the field, then back to your face—and eventually back to the field before she hops off her seat once again; waving her camera to signal you that she was going to carry out her duties.

You think Yena’s cool. A little intense, and kind of scary—but a nice person nevertheless. Maybe you were a blind optimist that saw the good in everyone, but there was something about her that you really liked. The kind of person you wish you could become.

The cheers get immensely louder, especially when you note that Jungkook’s scored a goal—his beaming expression displayed on the big screen while you hear girls and guys alike cheering his name.

It’s times like this where you’re reminded of how different you were from him. While he received praise and approval from the masses and was born to be loved by them. You were quite the opposite; the cheerer and the supporter but never quite the one receiving it.

His eyes skim the crowd, and you can see from the screen that his brows furrow ever so slightly. But he’s quick to return to his groove, fist-bumping a teammate along the way.

You sigh because even when you weren’t intentionally looking for him it’s like your heart only wants you to see what’s familiar. And funnily enough, the hurt is familiar too.

In the middle of it all, you try your best to smile—and throw in a small whoop on your own, hoping to blend in but be present enough to be heard.

Yena returns only when it’s half-time, her own body covered in sweat while she huffs, slapping a stray strand of hair away from her face.

“God. You’d think they’d slow down after fifteen minutes but nooo. They have to go flex on their fragile masculinities because they think growling and ripping off their shirts is peak alpha male character.” Yena mutters and it’s the first thing you hear from her.

You offer her a sympathetic smile before digging into your bag and pulling out a handkerchief, one that you always carry around.

“Here.” You smile at her toothily.

Yena eyes the fabric sceptically before looking at your face and back to the handkerchief.

“You sure?”

You nod your head, jutting out your hand once more to emphasise your point.

“Ah. I can see why Namjoon nabbed you up.” Yena coos, ruffling your hair as your eyes widen.

“H-How—?”

“How did I know? Well besides the fact that my job is to literally stick with the team and capture moments and make them look pretty—I’m nosey.” Yena shrugs and your face pales. “Oh, and I saw you guys at the changing room too.”

If she saw … that meant—

“Thought you were with the meathead Jeon for a moment.” Yena snorts.

Your eyes dart down to your lap, and Yena picks up on your silence immediately. But unlike the conventional person; despite her curiousity, she respected your privacy more. So she doesn’t, she just offers you a smile and a nudge to your shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” Yena assures, sighing as the voices of the footballers fill your area as they come up for refreshment. “He’s nice.” You weren’t sure who she was referring to so you just nod.

“Yena—pass me a bottle!” A boy calls, and you half expect her to do so, but instead, she delivers him one better—a middle finger.

“Get it your self you dickwad!” Yena calls back.

Your eyes widen when you turn your head to look at her, completely unbothered when the footballer shoots daggers at her nonchalant figure.

“Men. Think you always owe them something.” She scoffs.

You find yourself unconsciously nodding your head, and once again Yena recognises the gesture but doesn’t mention anything.

Instead, she turns towards you and levels you with a wide grin of her own.

“You’re cool. We should hang out.”

The declaration makes your eyes widen even more and you realise how much you’ve fumbled and made yourself look … stiff the entire time you were attempting to converse with Yena. But she seemed to be unbothered, and the thought makes you excited.

“We should?” You parrot with a squeak.

She nods and you’re still finding it hard to process the fact that she’d brought that up out of the blue.

You weren’t bad company. But you were … you.

“You’re like Ms Bona Fide.” Yena tuts. “People these days are either out to please or to receive.”

You furrow your brows.

“And I’m … not?” You say softly.

“You’re present.” Yena shrugs and throws you an easy-going smile.

God. She was so cool.

Namjoon scores the final goal.

You expect him to call the hangout off because, well, he’d closed the game and he was the captain. It was only normal that he’d want to celebrate.

So when Yena nudges your shoulders while your head is bent and focused on your mobile device, you slowly looked up with furrowed brows to see her cocking her head to the side with a knowing grin on her face.

And you see Namjoon, out of his gear and in a plain t-shirt and sweats while he waves at you.

You can’t help but gape at him.

“I see you’ve surrendered to good company instead of a zoo.” Yena greets Namjoon first with a snort.

Namjoon rolls his eyes, and you gauge that they’re at least well-acquainted. Acquainted enough that Namjoon subtly tries to flick her off, but you catch the gesture as soon as it comes.

“Promises are promises.” Namjoon shrugs as if he wasn’t aware that you were still gaping at him. Mouth open like a fish out of the water.

“Well—be nice, captain.” Yena whistles, throwing her camera into her bag and slinging it over her shoulder before she turns to look at you, a gentle nudge with her shoulder to yours as she levels you with an intentional look in her eyes.

“Don’t start any fights, Yena.” Namjoon gently chides, but his tone is joking.

Yena waves him off, then waves at you one last time, leaning down to whisper something into your ear that has you flushing.

“Tell me how it goes when we hang out.”

And she leaves you with a keen sense of excitement on the prospect of a new friend like her to look forward to hanging out with.

Namjoon looks over at you, and gently reaches for the tote bag you’ve slung over your shoulder as he tugs it off you with a soft pull.

“Let me.” His smile is all teeth and dimpled grins when you reluctantly let him take your bag from you.

“Thank you.” You murmur, eyes attempting to look at him but his gaze is so focused on yours that you find it difficult to make eye contact.

“We’ve got an exhibition to go to, don’t we?”

You nod your head enthusiastically as he chuckles, allowing you to lead the way as you find a little prep in your steps. It was nice. Having a friend like Namjoon.

“Captain’s not coming?” Yugyeom groans, ruffling his hair with a towel as the rest of the footballers filter out of the changing room.

Jimin snorts in response. “No. He’s got a date.” The emphasis on the word date is obvious in the immature sense, evoking wide eyes as responses.

“He bailed on us for some pussy?!” Yugyeom cries.

Jungkook has to clench his fists by his side when he hears how his teammate casually referred to you as just some pussy. You weren’t just … that.

“Watch your tone,” Jimin growls, and Jungkook’s thankful that Jimin was more of the confrontational type and didn’t allow shit like this to slide easily. Especially when it came to you. “That’s my best friend you’re talking about.”

Yugyeom’s eyes widened before gawking at the blonde boy.

“You mean Namjoon is going on a date with _____?” The rest of the footballers murmur in response, possibly out of confusion. “How did they—doesn’t she not … date?”

Jimin sighs, already ready with a response on the tip of his tongue but Jeonghan, the keeper interjects.

“Wait, I was under the impression that she and Jeon were a thing?”

At the mention of his name tangled with yours, Jungkook, who has been relatively silent throughout, freezes as his hands stop rummaging through his duffel bag while he tries to ignore the inquisitive stares he’s receiving from his teammates.

“W-What?” Jungkook stutters caught off guard.

Yugyeom narrows his eyes at the boy, while Jimin silently observes with an unreadable expression.

“Now that you mention it …” He trails off, head tilting upwards as if he was deep in thought. “I did always see the two of them alone with each other.”

Jungkook clears his throat as he lets out a nervous chuckle, his hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck.

“We’re friends,” Jungkook says stiffly and he hopes it’s believable, despite his hoarse voice. “Friends hang out.”

Jeonghan snorts. “Or she’s a two-timer.”

This time, Jungkook can’t keep his face neutral.

“Talk about her like that one more time and I’ll make sure you never speak again.” He growls to the other boy, whose eyes widen in response.

“I was kidding—” He raises his hands in defense but Jungkook is shoving the remainder of his belongings into his duffel bag before hauling it over his shoulder and storming out of the room, ears burning in both frustration and anger.

“You don’t joke about this type of shit,” Jungkook mutters under his breath right as he leaves the rest of the members brewing with confused expressions as they look at one another with concerned expressions.

Namjoon, as expected, is a museum enthusiast. That much you could assess when he was excitedly chirping about how much he appreciated all types of art, abstract, modern and contemporary and vintage—you name it and he could likely give you a break down of the nuances behind styles and techniques.

He is also great company. Namjoon is a comfortable line between involved and chivalrous, never pushing farther than what you were able to offer but engaging you in insightful discussions that you found yourself being intrigued by.

While you expected more … forward gestures, Namjoon is respectful and you’re surprised but not really. He was mannered encompassed into human form.

So, when the security guard informs you that the exhibition was over and that the two were the last guests in the hall—the two of you reluctantly had to bring your night to an end.

“That was fun,” Namjoon says once the two of you exit the hall, just two figures in the night who have thousands of words to say about the masterpieces you’ve witnessed.

“Honestly, I was already looking forward to it but seeing the pieces the art students curated in person was just another type of euphoria.” You confess.

Namjoon nods in agreement. “I totally agree. You can just tell that they’ve really dedicated all their free time to the work they’ve displayed.”

“Art is beautiful, isn’t it?” You mumble, eyes looking back to the museum as you grin up at Namjoon who’s already looking at you.

“Yeah.” He breathes, and the way he’s looking at you under the dim moonlight makes you irrevocably flustered. “Beautiful.”

You clear your throat as you shift on your heels, hoping the blush on your cheeks isn’t too apparent. The night was still wondrous, and you feel a type of comfort in Namjoon that you haven’t felt in a very long time. But there’s still a lingering thought in the substandard part of your mind that reminds you of doe-eyes and a bunny smile.

“Thank you for your time, Namjoon.” You say shy, fiddling with your thumbs.

When you find the courage to look at his face, he’s already beaming at you.

“No. Thank you.” He reassures. “I know you’re super busy so for you to find time out of your schedule to hang with a virtual stranger really means a lot to me.”

Your eyes widen, but then your face neutralises as you flush.

“I’m not that busy …” You mumble.

Namjoon chuckles. He doesn’t even snort or offer a sarcastic remark in response. He just acknowledges it with a kind smile and doesn’t comment further.

He’s different from what you’re used to. A challenge. A burst of rebellion that loved to roll remarks off his tongue.

You don’t want to think of him just yet.

“Regardless. You’re here. And I’m grateful.”

You nod your head lamely, clutching your bag into your chest (after relentlessly whining to Namjoon to allow you to hold it yourself when you felt a little useless).

“I should—I should head back.” You cock your thumb towards the direction of your apartment.

Immediately, Namjoon steps forward and is ready to head the same way you are.

“Let me walk you back.”

“I can’t possibly—”

“I’m not asking this time, ______.” He frowns.

You snap your lips shut. Though you did feel a little bad, it was late and the rational part of you knew that it was best if Namjoon walked you home.

“Okay.” You say softly.

Before you can begin walking, he tugs you by the elbow so gently, but firm enough for you to nearly stumble into his chest.

And he’s so tall, so you’re peering up at him with wide eyes as you gauge his nervous expression.

“I-I’m sorry if this is a little forward but—” Namjoon clears his throat. “W-Well I think—I really think you’re nice. And great. Like—good company, you know? So I’d r-really—I’d enjoy—”

You blink at him as he attempts to find his words.

“Namjoon.” You whisper gently, tugging the hem of his shirt.

At your gesture, his mind blanks but he remembers that you’re still looking up at him with a confused gaze.

“Okay. Fuck.” He whines as a giggle escapes your throat when he peers at you with an exasperated expression. “I’m not usually this much of a mess. You just make me nervous.”

“O-Oh.” You breathe, “I do?”

Namjoon sighs, rubbing his hands over his face.

“I don’t know if it was obvious but I’m kind of into you.” He says softly, rubbing his hand over his neck.

You don’t expect it, not at all. So you can only muster gawking at him at his sudden confession.

“And you don’t need to—you don’t need to say anything about it. We can pretend like I didn’t just confess to you. We can just be friends.” He rambles, eyes wide. “I just wanted to let you know … yeah. So I really hope we can still continue to hang out even though you might think I’m a creep and I really didn’t offer to walk you home because I had intentions. Really just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

You continue looking at Namjoon with wide eyes. Because you’ve never been on this end before. The one receiving the confession. You’ve never really given a confession either, and you try to suppress the bitter memories of the confession you tried to give Jungkook that wasn’t verbal but with your presence.

With you giving up certain parts of yourself for him so he could see you.

“Please say something.” Namjoon chuckles nervously.

“I—…” You choke. “I don’t know what to say.”

“We can pretend like I didn’t just say that.” He winces.

You shake your head. “No. No. It’s fine, Namjoon. Really.” You reassure him gently. “I really appreciate it … I just didn’t … expect it.” You finish lamely.

“You’re a very interesting person,” Namjoon tells you, lips twitching in an attempt to lighten the awkward atmosphere.

Interesting? You don’t think you’ve ever heard anyone call you interesting before. Not outright, at least.

“I’m really not.” You say sadly.

Namjoon furrows his brows but doesn’t reach out to you further, his hands still remaining limp by his sides.

“Hey.” His voice calls out. “You are. You’re definitely one of the most interesting people I’ve met in my life.”

You blink.

“T-Thank you.”

He waves you off, gesturing towards where you gestured towards earlier.

“Shall we?”

And somehow, Namjoon has a way of making everything feel easy. Like a temporary space for you to feel safe, to feel wanted.

So why doesn’t your heart flutter?

545 notes · View notes

shintin · 2 years

Text

Forget Me Not: Chapter 27 (Monster)

↳ Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Description: Imagine that from the moment you opened your eyes into this world, you had no choice but to kill and shed the blood of others, that you had to fight alongside Toji Fushiguru and die with him.

What would you do when they force you to do something you don’t like? When the torment of conscience presses on your throat, will you give up? Now think about a day that life gives you another chance; how would you use it?

This is the story of a murderer who seeks salvation. Will she find it in the arms of Satoru Gojo? Or will pain find her sooner than redemption and drive her out of heaven forever?

Genre: heavy angst, sad love story, maybe tragedy, violence, lonely hearts, broken souls, +18.

Tags/Warnings: nothing

Song Recommendation: Lady Gaga - Teeth

Chapter index -> Next chapter

Year: 2019

"I can't believe that idiot is late again!" Yuji said and leaned against the wall, folding his arms with anger. Yes, as you can see, after he was traumatized by the scene of Y/N being kissed by Satoru, his status was reduced from a "Dear Sensei" to "That Idiot."

Megumi, who was seated on the stairs a few steps from Yuji, raised his eyebrows and looked at his friend with surprise. Wasn't it him who always kissed their Sensei's ass? He placed his hand underneath his chin. "For the record, Y/N is also late; why aren't you angry at her?" He seemed drowsy and hated that their sensei was still late even for his own plans, and now Y/N seemed to have acquired his bad habits.

Yuji glared at Megumi. "We both know why Y/N is late! That idiot sleeps in her room! I swear to God, he's corrupting Y/N." He exhaled furiously and frowned. Was Y/N a relative? Nope! Were his behaviors reasonable? Not at all! Then how come Yuji was so worried about her? Who knows.

"Ah, Yuji! Don't start again! You're still whining about it! It has nothing to do with you! Y/N likes him! Get over it!" Megumi rubbed his forehead. Gojo was pretty annoying, and now he must have put up with Yuji, too.

Yuji stepped away from the wall with clenched fists to stand before Megumi and was about to start his long, boring speech about how careless Gojo is, how he will break Y/N's heart and how she deserves someone better. Still, Megumi pointed to the gate before he could even open his mouth.

Yuji turned his head and saw Y/N talking with Satoru and smiling at him as they were approaching the two. Seeing Y/N's happiness made his frown disappear, but his fists remained clenched. The boy was at no fault. Y/N was one of the nicest people he knew, and he didn't want to lose her one day because of the mistakes of his foolish sensei. So the boy had to do what he had to do.

"No Yuji! Wait! Don't do it!" But before Megumi could stop the No. 2 idiot, he had long ago reached out to Y/N and the No. 1 idiot.

Yuji ran joyfully toward them, standing there with the greatest fucking smile in the world on his face. "Good morning, Y/N," his tone was highly cheery for a Monday morning. Strange even if we look for another word to describe it. I mean, someone with a sane mind over their head would frown Monday morning and curse heaven and earth. But let not judge Yuji. The boy usually had a couple of loose screws, and now the king of curses was living in his head rent-free.

"Good morning, Yuji." She yawned and placed her hand on her mouth. Yes, she'd gone through another sleepless night. The poor girl was so tired that, as the author, I found it necessary to ask Satoru, Come on, dude! Give her a rest! She has other needs too, you know! Like what? Like sleeping at nights, you asshole!

But let's forget about my conversation with Gojo and go ahead.

Finding Y/N tired, Yuji glared at Satoru and sighed angrily. He knew very well who to blame for Y/N's exhaustion. But was he the reason behind her tiredness? Or was there any other reason? Because after the missions, her wounds were no longer easily healed, and she seemed weaker and weaker days by day.

"Hello to you too, Yuji. I'm fine as well." Satoru tried to make fun with his student, but hearing his cold "Good," hit him like a slap in the face. 'What have I done to deserve this?' He pouted.

Yuji stood between the two as a third wheel and totally ignored the presence of Satoru. He kept talking to Y/N. "Are you excited to see Yuta? He is the only sorcerer that possesses the greatest amount of cursed energy!" The two started walking without paying attention to the manchild.

"Really? I thought Satoru was the strongest sorcerer! Satoru? Are you deluding yourself into being the strongest?" She said laughingly and turned her head to see his face after hearing it, but she suddenly stopped. He wasn't with them. She looked back to find her 29-year-old boyfriend-whom rumors had said his mind could function 24/7- was standing on his last spot with folded arms, staring at her and Yuji.

"Satoru, why are you standing there?" She asked in surprise. She was convinced a long time ago that even the wisest men in the history of mankind could not fully understand the function of this man's brain.

'Thank goodness she noticed my absence at least before she was miles away. What a lucky man I am!' He held his hands on his chest, and his gaze fled from his dear girlfriend to the frowny frat boy, Yuji. 'What is wrong with this boy?' Satoru lowered his sunglasses and started looking at Yuji, mimicking his actions.

Ladies and gentlemen, one of them was the strongest sorcerer in the jujutsu world, and the other was the vessel for one of the strongest curses in the history of jujutsu, but as you can see, they didn't have a brain cell combined.

Y/N's gaze shifted between Satoru and Yuji. Oh! Her brain was not ready to digest these juvenile behaviors in the first hour of the morning. So she turned on her heel before the testosterone in the air could suffocate her. "Let me know who is the winner of your frowning contest," and she made her way to her favorite black-haired boy.

Seeing Y/N approaching, Megumi raised his head from the phone and noticed that she was rubbing her forehead. A faint smile settled on his lips. She was the only one in the school who could relate to him about the torment of putting up with Yuji and Satoru. "Did they drive you crazy as well?" Megumi put his phone back into his pocket.

"Don't ask! What has gotten into them? I didn't expect him to act as child as Satoru!" She adjusted the scarf around her neck. "Anyway, where is Nobara?" She looked around.

"She is with the second years and Yuta. By the way, have you heard of him?" Megumi got up, put his hands in his pockets, and began walking with Y/N to the backyard.

"Not really. All I know is that higher Ups wanted to execute Yuta and It is enough reason for me to love that boy without knowing him!" She applauded with joy, and Megumi could swear that there was a glimmer of madness in her eyes.

"You're becoming more and more like Gojo Sensei every day, Y/N, should I be worried?" The poor boy couldn't stand a No. 3 idiot in his life. No, not anymore.

"No! If I ever become this irritating, please choke me in my sleep," she winked at him, and a smile came across her lips at the same time. She enjoyed hearing their names used in the same sentence—her little silly guilty closure.

"Hey, look who decided to show up at last!" Nobara's voice was heard from a distance. Y/N quickly raised her head and looked at the orange-haired girl standing next to Maki, Toge, and Panda, with a long distance away from the boy with black hair in a white uniform. He must be Yuta.

"Where are Gojo and Yuji?" Nobara looked at Y/N and Megumi, with her hands on her waist, tapping one of her feet on the ground.

"Don't ask," Megumi responded briefly, greeted Yuta from afar, and then walked towards the rest of the second years without wanting to shake hands.

'This boy is turning into a complete antisocial.' She thought, and then she turned her face and looked at Yuta with interest. His face was pale with dark circles under his eyes, but the boy always had a smile on his face.

"Yuta this is the Y/N Maki speaks of all the time. You and Yuji and she can officially run an execution survivors club." Panda winked at Y/N.

Yuta looked at her face carefully and bowed completely before her from where he was standing. "My name is Yuta Okkotsu, nice to meet you." What a polite boy.

"My name is Y/N Kamo, and I'm glad to have the honor of meeting you," she took a few steps closer to the boy when suddenly several screams were heard at the same time.

"No, Y/N, don't go any further!"

"Please stop there!"

"Y/N! No!"

"Rika, no! she is not a threat!"

"Y/N! run!"

"Mustard leaves!"

But before Y/N could react, a curse suddenly appeared before her with claws only a few centimeters away from her face. Her breath was stuck in her chest, and her eyes were closed to stop the burning breath of the curse from striking her face. She wanted to activate her technique, but a firm hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her back until her back hit a tough thorax. Satoru.

Y/N opened her eyes and noticed his tight grip and dead serious face. It wasn't like this was the same man acting like a child with his student.

Her gaze fell upon Satoru's forefinger and middle finger, which stood together. And that's when a feeling of cold took hold of her spine. Infinity.

Yes. The knight of history hurried to Y/N as soon as he realized she could be in danger.

"Rikaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa," the curse opened her mouth and shouted aloud, but fortunately, her saliva stopped a few millimeters from infinity. She seemed to feel threatened by Y/N and sought to defend Yuta against her.

Meanwhile, as everyone looked at Rika with fear, Yuji looked at Y/N, then the hand around her waist and the worried eyes of Satoru. His Sensei gaze was fixed on Rika, and his hand was standing by to attack the curse if necessary. It was then that Yuji's brain eventually managed to do 2+2, and he realized that this white-haired man was willing to do anything for her. Even if it meant exercising the curse attached to his student.

Yes, Yuji, your dear Sensei was fucked, and he was prepared to destroy not only that curse for her but all the curses and whoever wanted to hurt her. After all, she was the only person who had seen the real person behind his strongest mask and had broken the hard shell around his heart.

Y/N gently grabbed Satoru's hand, squeezed it a little to ensure her lover that she was safe. He looked at her with hesitation. She was smiling, and that was enough to soften his stern face. She caressed his hand with her thumb. "Don't worry, Satoru, I have done this before," she murmured while unwrapping his grip. He never had the power to resist her.

He turned her to face him. "What are you talking about? All you've absorbed is the cursed energy of the third-grade curses! No offense to your intelligence, but this one is a special curse! You can't skip the second and first-grade curses that easily! You are not a nerdy, Y/N!" His tone was even more firm than his grip on her arm. Don't get him wrong; he didn't mean to hurt her, but fear manifests itself in different ways. "Excuse me, but I can't let you kill yourself in front of my eyes!" He tried to pull Y/N, but she didn't budge.

"I never asked your permission, Satoru!" She grasped his wrist with her other hand and took her arm out of it.

Satoru's astonished eyes moved from Y/N's hand to her serious face. She had made up her mind, and he had no choice but to let her go. Oh, he hated these moments. He hated having to let her slip out of his palms. "And if anything bad happens to you?" He never took his eyes off her.

She placed her hand over his shoulder, struggling with the urge to caress his cheek in front of the students. "Then catch me before I fall," she turned her face away from him.

Satoru, despite all the cells in his body shouting at him not to let her go, released his infinity. Everything in their relationship revolved around trust. He trusted her not to fall, and she trusted him to catch her if she fell.

Yuji turned his face. He knew she was safe with him. He would never let anyone hurt Y/N, but he knew full well that people could always do more harm to their loved ones than to anyone else.

"What do these two fools talk about?" Nobara asked Megumi in the whispered voice.

"I can't read anybody's lips!" Megumi answered with indifference and turned his gaze towards Y/N.

"Oh my God, what the hell is she doing?" Nobara shouted loud because now Y/N had decided to approach the curse as though nothing had happened a few minutes ago.

"Y/N? Have you gone insane? If you want to die, I can kill you myself." Maki screamed from afar, but Y/N made another step.

"What do you say we don't disturb Miss Curse anymore?" Panda's nervous voice came through.

Megumi's gaze quickly shifted from Y/N to his Sensei. See, there are natural phenomena in the world that you have to be in a certain place at a certain time to witness them, like Aurora Borealis, Night-blooming cereus, Fogbows, Lenticular clouds and... and spotting a glimpse of fear on Satoru Gojo's face was one of those rare moments.

Megumi turned his face away. So his sensei was a human after all, and like all human beings, he was afraid to lose his beloved as well.

"No, Y/N, please, stay away! Rika doesn't have a good relationship with sorcerers," Yuta, with sweat on his forehead, begged her to stop. But to his surprise, Y/N went one step further.

"I'm not a sorcerer, Yuta, don't worry, she won't hurt me," she smiled at the frightened boy.

"Yutaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa," Rika's scream sounded threatening, but Y/N looked at her with interest as if the most beautiful creature in the world was standing before her. Now the claws of the curse were in her hair, touching her skull.

"Well, your name is Rika, huh?" Her tone was calm. Like someone who seemed to be talking to a seven-year-old. Could she see the soul of the little girl in the curse?

Rika shouted again, though this time, she seemed calmer than before.

"I don't mean to hurt you, I know it hurts, I know better than anybody..." She wasn't lying. She could see how she and Yuta used to play in the park together, how the two had promised to be together forever, and how Rika had lost her life in an accident, And from that day on, she kept her promise as a curse and never left him alone.

She smiled at Rika, perhaps something no one had ever done to a curse before. And it worked. Rika believed her. She pulled her claws back and lowered her head. The curse seemed calm without any intention of attacking anymore.

Now, as the author, let me teach you a special recipe to make a monster stop feeling monstrous.

First, you give them something they can hold in their palms, to feel it without crushing, something sweet, and you tell them to keep it.

Then you wipe the blood from their hands. You say their name, over and over, like an absolution.

And finally, you forgive them.

You forgive them.

Now tell me, do you want them to feel human again? Yes? Then love them. Love them so much that they can no longer hate themselves.

And Y/N knew it all. Why? Because Satoru had given her his heart, he had wiped the guilt from her hands; he had whispered her name in her ear from dusk till down without getting tired, without losing patience, without regretting for a moment. He had embraced and kissed the monster that had stared at Y/N from the mirror. He had fallen in love with her. And he hoped that one day his love would be enough for her to forgive herself.

Without taking her eyes off the curse, Y/N gently untied her scarf from her neck and held it out to Rika. The curse stared at her face and then at her hand. She hesitantly brought her claw forward and took the scarf from her. Y/N nodded with a smile. She then wrapped an imaginary scarf around her neck, and Rika emulated her actions, wrapping the scarf around her neck. No one's ever given Rika anything except Yuta.

The surprise on the faces of the other witnesses from that scene was indescribable. None of them have ever seen such a thing.

She looked at Satoru, and their eyes met. He shook his head gently, trying his last chance to stop her, but his eyes were only reading "I love you" on her lips. A bittersweet smile appeared on his lips, and she turned her face with relief. She had done everything she had to do before doing what she was going to do.

Her hands rested on the Rika's temple, and she leaned her forehead against hers.

Pain. Pain. Pain.

What happened afterward was beyond Y/N's expectations. Her breath was stuck in her chest as if somebody was stealing the air from her. She couldn't hold Rika any longer. Grief took the place of blood in her veins, filled her lungs, and gushed like tears from the corners of her eyes. Was death always so painful?

How much sorrow there was in the world for a girl to endure with her tiny hands. Was that fair? Why should all bad things happen to good people? Why... Her mind felt dizzy. Everything was too much. A special grade curse meant an endless source of negative emotions, and her body was too weak to hold out. She gave herself up and was taken by Satoru before her body hit the ground. One of his arms under her legs and the other supporting her back like a groom carrying his bride.

He lowered his head to her face, and when her breath hit his ear, he sighed in relief. "You stupid, stubborn bitch, Y/N." Satoru said angrily and saw how a faint smile appeared on her lips.

"Yet you caught me," she whispered, and her eyes got closed. His embrace always made Y/N feel alive; it was as if a soft blanket was wrapped around her. So her hands circled his neck. She needed to get closer to him. If she knew what would happen, she'd save him a little more for the days to come, for those days when there was no Satoru and its warm embrace.

"I'll catch you forever," he looked at her tired face. Only I, the author, knew how much he controlled himself not to kiss her. How could he love her and yet fall in love with her again and again—every day.

"Is she all right?" The students hurried there and surrounded the two with concern visible on their faces.

Satoru turned his worried face into his usual goofy one. "Oh, don't worry, kids! She had just watched How to train your dragon and she was carried away to try it in real life! Today's lesson is to remind yourself that you should not try everything you see on the green screen. It's stupid," he winked at the children, and his famous smirk appeared on his lips. "Now, if you allow me, I have to take this crazy woman to Shoko," and he and Y/N immediately disappeared from their sight.

"Did you just see what I see?" Maki asked from the group while rubbing her chin.

"You mean Rika and Y/N? What was that about? Was she trying to absorb her energy?" Yuta asked, scratching his neck.

"I think Maki meant the worry on Gojo Sensei's face that he was trying to hide. It is clear that he cares a lot about Y/N," Panda exchanged glances with others, and they nodded.

"Then my nightmares have come true! What if Y/N likes him too?" Nobara punched her forehead with her palm. Then something popped into her head. She turned her head toward Yuji and Megumi, oddly quiet. "Hey! You two! What're you hiding, han?"

Yuji tried to show more interest in the grass on the ground so that Nobara's question and Megumi, on the other hand, acted like he didn't hear a thing, trying to play dumb by looking at the sky.

"Yuji and Megumi! Consider yourself dead. You knew about it, Spill!

We all know that the sun can't always be hidden behind the clouds.

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fuzzfuzzywritings · 3 years

Text

Reunion |Dean Winchester x Mom! Reader|

Anon: Can I request Dean Winchester? X reader?. He breaks up with her a few years ago before he starts the whole hunting thing? And like? reader finds out she’s pregnant and the baby is his but never tells him, so once their son reaches 6-years-old? They run into each other when Y/n discovers something bad about her home? And later it’s all fluff-?-! Thank you!!

Note: S/n (Son’s Name). This took a lot of turns, Please forgive me if this wasn’t living to anyone’s expectations. This is like, my first time writing for Supernatural so...

The girl had embraced the smell of the bar, the liquor burning her throat and sending a very intensive taste into her mouth. Eyes roaming around as she waited for the return of her boyfriend. Dean Winchester. The two met from a bar hopping night which was eventful for them both, after a nice one night together. Dean couldn’t get enough of the girl, she was too addicting so the two became more than a hookup. They became a couple with much love and care in the world. Nothing about them would change, Y/n wanted to believe it as well as Dean did. She remembers when he explained his childhood when she finally believed him, he took pride upon it. Yet, Dean hadn’t found the courage to admit something to her, something he was hiding.

3 weeks ago, Dean wanted to set out in search for his father, wanting to get Sam to join him. The job was far too dangerous for someone like Y/n. He didn’t wanna risk her safety, her life, her. And yet, he hadn’t told her, leaving her to believe he would be by her all the time. Poor Y/n, how clueless she was sitting at a bar waiting for him to come back some time soon. But he didn’t. His seat remained empty and her glass remained empty after each refill.

“That’s enough for me. Thank you,” Y/n finally spoke up as she stood from her seat, grabbing her phone and wallet.

She walked outside, nothing but the cool breeze, night sky, stars, and full moon remained. Ringing Dean again, attempting to reach his number. Each ring went by, each call remained failed. So she gave it one last attempt, finally, he picked up.

“Hello?” he spoke. His voice coming out more quiet and bothered.

She had taken notice in her boyfriend’s change of behavior, she took notice in the way he answered the phone. He’s always calling her pet names to make her cringe as she would laugh but the only thing she got was a simple and boring, Hello. This was nothing like her Dean but would she be so wrong for questioning him?.

“Where are you?” she slurred slightly, the feeling of heavy liquor setting over her. “You were supposed to be back an hour ago”.

Her voice couldn’t sound demanding and intimidating, instead. Her voice came out soft and sad, the shakiness remaining. Dean’s heart wrenched tightly at the tone she gave him. He knew he fucked up, he knew he was in the wrong.

“I’m on my way just sit tight” he said before hanging up. Causing the girl too groan in frustration. Removing her heels from her aching feet, she sat on the steps to the bar. Allowing the breeze to hit her exposed skin, watching people enter and exit the bar. She hated it. Her and Dean would bicker but it was nothing like him to leave her alone in a bar. He was always protective over her, not allowing a drunk to put his filthy hands on her but he left her alone and stranded. She felt as if she was the issue, she couldn’t help but live in her thoughts.

‘What if he’s fallen out of love?’

It was a common thought in her mind but her thinking was interrupted by a car pulling up. She thanked the heavens, it was Dean. He got out as he walked up to her. The sight of her being tipsy and upset bothered him, Dean wasn’t immune to seeing her so upset since they had been the happy and cheerful couple.

“Let’s get you home” he suggested before picking her up, all she could do was lean into his touch, this is what she craved. Yet it was like he didn’t crave her, almost like he didn’t bother. He opened the door to his car, gently placing her in the passenger seat before closing it. Going to the drivers side, she leaned her head against the cold glass, her eyes roaming the somewhat blurry lights.

“Are you leaving me?” she suddenly asked out loud. Dean stopped what he was doing, staring at her. He could tell her question was slurred but it wasn’t drunk feelings that would past by. It was her genuine concern.

“What gave you that idea?” he asked her, had she found out so soon this was gonna happen?. She shook her head and looked at him, her eyes were cold and bitter. He stared back at her before putting his foot on the peddle, she leaned against the window again. His eyes scanning the road.

The silence was visible, unspoken tension in the air, the bitter and all too familiar feeling circled them. “You won’t speak to me about anything when it comes to our future, I told you I wanted us to settle down, get married, You can continue the hunting job, I don’t care but I was open and honest when you asked me what I wanted, I said I wanted this relationship to be forever. So what are you not telling me?” she explained and questioned him, she was expressive about her feelings. But she knew he had more to speak about.

“We’ll talk when we get back home” He said playing it off. She only hummed in response, her heart aching at his words. Brushing her off like she was just some child. Like her feelings didn’t matter, she felt useless to the situation. They built a home together. A nice comfortable apartment, they called it home. So where could she be going wrong?.

The two exited the car, entering the comfortable apartment that smelled like comfort lavender. The scented candles making the apartment smell fresh, the warmth of home overtaking her. As she walked to the bedroom, her eyes stopped upon a packed bag. Nothing could process, she was far too scared of reaching inside to find out what it could be. Yet she acted as if she hadn’t spotted it, walking past it, turning a blind eye.

“Can we talk before you shower?” Dean asked. She nodded her head, as she put her phone and wallet on the bed. Walking into the living room, she sat on the couch beside him. Dean hadn’t looked too happy about this talk.

“I...Wanna break up with you...” he said suddenly. His words processing in her mind, nothing made sense. She had so many questions but only asking a few would be the best choice for her.

“Are you falling out of love with me?” she asked. God, she hated how desperate she sounded. All she asked was for an honest answer but Dean couldn’t reveal the truth. Not to her.

“Yes...there’s someone else in this life for you but it’s not me...I’ve been wanting to tell you for 3 weeks now but I couldn’t find the courage, but please this is nothing against you. You know I love you” he said.

Her eyes became glossy, shaking her head, a small and fake laugh left her mouth.

“Love me? If you loved me, you wouldn’t be leaving me alone. You knew I wanted a life and you decided to be a selfish asshole? I’m done!. I’ve given you everything, I thought for once someone loved me! Seems you’re like all of them...a worthless bastard. I want you out of my house before I get out of the shower” her words were laced with venom.

Dean couldn’t explain himself, all he could do was watch the girl leave and slam the bathroom door shut. He couldn’t cry in front of her, he only silently took his bag before looking back one last time. Closing the door behind him. Meanwhile, she cried in the bathroom, breaking down into a depressive scream. She wanted to just run after him but she felt so alone. She felt caved in.

The next morning, She felt numb as if nothing in the world mattered, throwing up into the toilet as her head leaned against her head. Nothing could process her mind, had she of been sick from the liquor? she didn’t have too much. She had small shots but that’s it. Suddenly she remembered, when she had to eat something, it wouldn’t settle with her stomach, whenever she would crave something her taste, she would feel sick. She wanted to find reasons but all of it boiled down into pregnancy.

Had she of been drinking while pregnant? she had hoped this wasn’t true. Quickly she remembered the pregnancy test her and Dean bought a few months ago. They assumed she was pregnant and bought multiple kits to find out. Thankfully she wasn’t at the time but that didn’t stop them from any sexual intercourse. So it would make sense.

She grabbed the pink and white stick, quickly opening it before putting it to use. Her mind remained worried, nothing could be thought of except the words in her mind. ‘Please don’t be pregnant, please don’t be pregnant, please!’.

Time passed, finally she looked at it, her hands shaking as her mind felt torn. Reading the test nothing flashed at her but those two lines. She reached for her phone, quickly scrolling down the call log. She needed to tell Dean. Once she reached his name, her mind flashed back to last night. Now she questioned if calling him would be a good idea. Sighing softly. She shook her head. Instead she clicked his contact, erasing his number.

Dialing in a phone number, a soft voice spoke on the other end of the line. She smiled at the grateful voice of her mother. Screaming about the results, she was happy. Explaining the story while also covering up the small hint of sadness from last night’s events. Yet her mom had told her it was only right to admit to Dean. She figured that her mom was correct but she needed time. Maybe they could makeup in the process.

-2 Weeks Later-

With lots of thought and practice, she prepared herself to tell Dean, of course she had to find him which she did, at a bar. Of course, The two had sat in silence, it was quiet, both of their hearts ached at the sight of each other. Yet Dean wanted to keep his cool, he was going to make sure that he didn’t break, not in front of her.

“So what brought you here?” he asked her, she cleared her throat. “It’s important,” she said. He hummed in response, waiting for her to continue.

“After you left, I found out the next day that-” Y/n was cut off by a woman walking towards them.

She sat on Dean’s lap, glaring at Y/n who sat across from them. She had no intentions on being there for a hang out. Which Dean had caught on when she acted odd around him, she would always order the strongest liquor she could handle but all she had was water. He also picked up on her playing with her thumbs, this came as no surprise that he could tell when something was wrong with her. He wanted to pull her in his arms and comfort her but he fought the urge.

“Whose this?” the woman asked. Y/n gave her a gentle and fake smile, she felt uncomfortable with her sitting on his lap. She felt childish for letting this effect her since she simply was nothing more than a one night. Of course, people never change. Y/n wanted to believe he did. He leaves her and here he is, sitting down with someone else.

“I’m Y/n-” The woman clapped her hands, interrupting Y/n from speaking. “His ex, I heard about you. Nothing surprising to see you come crawling back to what’s mine,” she spoke, she was smug about it, she was careless. Y/n could admit she was dumb to believe her and Dean would be more. She was a hookup, She was just someone he could sleep with and leave. She was nothing. Y/n wanted to do it, yet she bit her tongue, saving herself a fight.

“You know what? I’ll be on my way,” Y/n rolled her eyes. She stood up, leaving. Dean waved at her with a smile but when she walked out, his smile left. He removed the girl from his lap, sending a glare at her. “You are nothing else, You are nothing more, Don’t ever, overstep your line and talk to her in such a way. I love her, I’m leaving,” Dean said as he grabbed his keys and Jacket. Leaving the bar, his eyes focused on her figure getting into the back of a car, there she was. Leaving again, he felt like he deserved it, he did leave her and he felt like he had to live with that forever. Yet it hurt Y/n because now he will never know...He’s gonna be a dad.

1st month\

‘I can’t do this on my own..’

It was stressful, Eventually Y/n needed help leaving, Moving into a better and comfortable home. She came in contact with Bobby, He was happy to hear the news, He viewed Y/n like family. He cared for her, so whenever she needed anything he was there. He was the same person who helped Y/n move out of her apartment and into a home in a nice small town. He made sure she was okay and safe at all times.

2nd month

‘I have to push through this’

Y/n despised the 2nd month of pregnancy, the feeling was all too well. Sleepless nights, she had wished she had Dean by her side or someone to comfort her on these nights and help her. But she knew she had to push through this, she was going to be alone with a child anyway.

3rd month

‘Where is he?’

Housework as a pregnant woman came with responsibilities like fixing up her sons room. She pushed through it knowing she had to do it alone. She missed having Dean but he didn’t want her. She missed his jokes and the way he would comfort her. Now he wasn’t there and she was stuck figuring out how fixing up a home worked.

4th month

‘Home stretch’

The 4th month passed, it was no surprise that Y/n had gotten along with her neighbors. She loved it, they would always help and invite her whenever. She felt at home, The house was silent but it was home. She believed it herself.

5th month

‘My son’

Y/n opened the gifts sent from friends, family, and given to her by her neighbors. Celebrating the baby shower rather later than usual. She thanked them, although she would get questions about the father, where he was, who he was. She didn’t answer them. She felt if he cared, he would’ve stayed.

6th month

‘Pains’

It was no surprise the mother would find herself up at night with pains. In fact they would become so unbearable she wouldn’t sleep at all. It’s nights she wished she had him with her. Nights she wished Dean was there to assure her that she’ll be okay.

7th month

‘Growth’

Y/n smiled as she had grown to move past Dean, She knew she would always love him. There was no doubt about it. Yet this is what was best for her and this is what she found out would be the better judgement for them both. If she had let go.

8th month

‘Almost okay’

The death of bobby, spotting Dean again with Sam. It became hard for her, she leaned her back against the cold surface of the wall. tears streaming down her face, throwing herself and the baby into stress. She needed a way to be okay. She knew she had to be for her son.

9th month

‘Labor’

Sweat plastered the young mother’s forehead, the baby asleep beside her in his own bed, wrapped in a beautiful blue blanket. Her eyes had felt heavy. She smiled as she looked beside her son. She named him. ‘S/n Winchester’.

-Few years later-

“So what’s the point of going to this house again?” Sam asked Dean. The two brothers had been on their way after they got some information about a home that seemed to hold some type of evil in it. “Well, you heard the old lady, She mentioned the home was owned by a mother and son? Maybe they would have some answers that could connect to this town?” Dean said. Sam only hummed in response. “Yeah but what if the mom and son were bad people?” Sam questioned. Dean rolled his eyes and turned up the radio. Ignoring Sam and his conspiracy theories.

The brothers had soon pulled up to the home, it was a big home, no wonder the mom and son had bought the place. Dean and Sam got out of the car before walking, approaching the boy playing in the yard. “Hey, is your parents around?” Sam asked. The boy looked between them before shaking his head. “My dad left my mom before I was born, I think my mom is inside the house right now” he said. Dean nodded his head. “Can you go get her for us?” Dean asked. The young boy nodded his head as he ran inside.

Sam chuckled before lightly slapping Dean on the shoulder. “Kid kind of looks like you,” he said. Dean shook his head. “Not at all” he denied it. Yet, He knew Sam had a point, the child did favor him in someway. Was it the nose?, The eyes?, maybe it was the lips?. He couldn’t really piece together why the boy looked like him but he decided not to think into it too much. Suddenly the door opened, Y/n froze in her spot. Her eyes widening. “Dean?” she spoke. “Y/n?”. The two stared at each other before Sam looked between them. “This is going to be...awkward”.

...

“Sorry for the wait, I had to make sure that the kitchen mess S/n made was clean” Y/n explained. She sat at the table, Dean had looked at her. “So...I’m guessing you’ve moved on?” he questioned. She rolled her eyes. “As if it’s a concern to you, you left me, can’t forget the skank at the bar” she said. Sam cleared his throat, looking over at the kid. “This is going to be very awkward” he said. S/n nodded his head. “Guys, We’re not here for this?” Sam said loudly. Yet Y/n and Dean were still bickering, ignoring Sam’s pleads. Sam sighed before looking over at the kid. “So how old are you?” he asked. S/n smiled. “I just turned 6 a few days ago” The little boy chimed. Sam chuckled and wished him a happy birthday.

The bickering between the two were strong and it hadn’t stopped, until the lights went out. Y/n groaned in annoyance. “Again? Bring me the flashlight from upstairs” Y/n told her Son. He nodded his head and rushed upstairs, Sam and Dean looking at the silhouette of Y/n. “Why are you two looking at me? We have bad electric here?” she commented. “No. Actually, We came cause a lot of people are disappearing from your town, some found alive and some not. Everyone that lives here keeps disappearing and being found somewhere else or not being found at all...So we think your house might have something in it” Dean explained. She keeps silent before nodding her head in agreement.

“Actually, S/n has mentioned seeing some type of Shadow at night? He said that he seen it when he was going to the bathroom. At first I thought he was crazy but he was right...there is something here...we don’t know what it is or what to do...” She frowned. Sam raised a brow before standing up. “I’ll get one of my flashlights and check outside, I’m sure there’s something outside in the back” he said. Dean and Y/n sat in silence before Dean spoke. “So the kid? He’s biologically yours?” he asked. Y/n nodded her head. “S/n was born and raised by me so far” she said wanting to avoid this topic.

“Where’s the dad?” he asked. Y/n bit her bottom lip. “In front of me...” she trailed off. Dean stopped for a moment before pointing at himself. “Are you...are you saying...you had OUR child?” he questioned still not processing it. She hummed. “When you left, I found out the next day, I didn’t tell you until my mother convinced me, the night I met you at the bar, I went there to tell you but you had some company, so I just left without telling you...I was selfish for it, I was wrong...and I’m sorry” she apologized. Dean frowned but knowing him, he wouldn’t show the look of shock, enjoyment, or sadness on his face.

“So you kept me in the dark? How old is he?” he asked. “6 years old” she said. Before he could say anything else, a scream from upstairs made both of the parents jump in action. They called out to him but no response, Y/n opened the door to find her son shaking in the corner of the room. The lights come back on. “S/n, Honey what happened?” she asked as she pulled him in her lap. Dean’s eyes soften before bending down. “It tried to take me” he cried. Y/n looked at Dean. “How about? you guys stay in a hotel? Let me and Sam handle this?” he asked. Y/n nodded her head.

1 week

The mom and son had went to get breakfast every morning with Sam and Dean at a small diner in town. The group would laugh and conversate often at the diner. It didn’t take them long before they all grew close.

2 weeks

Within week 2, Y/n explained and revealed to her son who his dad was, he was shocked but finally warmed up to the idea of it. Sam often found himself going places with his nephew.

3 weeks

Within 3 weeks, they had finally caught on to something in Y/n’s home, planning ahead of time how things are going to go.

. . .

Y/n stood in her house, it was around 9 PM when the brothers decided it was best to go ahead with their plan. Of course Y/n and Dean still bickered but had to work together for the sake of a safe home for S/n. “So what’s the plan?” Y/n asked Sam. He sighed. “Well, the shadow seems attached to something in this house, Whatever was in here belongs to the soul that’s attached, So we’re gonna burn anything that could belong to them without having to get rid of the home” he explained.

Dean had looked back at his son who was standing beside him, he wanted to help them and Dean said it was dangerous. Finally though he decided to let him help but he gave him strict rules. “Let get’s started” Dean said.

The four begin to walk around the home, searching around the area of what could belong to the soul attached to the family’s home. Everyone went their separate ways, S/n knew he wasn’t supposed to split from his father but he did exactly that. He walked over to the open attic, checking inside of it, moving his flashlight around. “So much junk” the kid mumbled. Sam walked the halls, checking every small detail. He felt like something was valued for the figure to stick around in the home.

He pointed his flashlight at the dark figure only for it to disappear. Moving the flashlight back down the figure showed. His eyes widen as a sudden strong gust of wind knocking him back, folding the ladder to the attic. S/n’s eyes widen as he ran over, the child slammed his fist against it, screaming for help. “Hold on!” Sam yelled. Before he could stand the glass vase flew at him, hitting him in the back, Sam groaned in pain as he attempted once again to get the child. Dean and Y/n ran towards the noise. “Where’s S/n?” the mother asked.

Sam pointed to the attic as she felt panic overtake her. “It won’t let me get him...It wants something to do with S/n” Sam explained. Dean furrowed his brows. “Get S/n, me and Sam can take it from here” he said with concern laced in his voice. S/n backed up from the attic as he noticed something coming closer, his foot hitting something, knocking it back. He begin to hiss in pain as he realized it was glass. S/n squeezed his eyes shut as his back hit the wall, shining the light. The sudden figure was gone, he knew if he had light, it couldn’t do anything.

Y/n quickly opened the attic entrance. “S/n” She called out. Her son coming into frame as he hid all the panic in his face. His leg bleeding as he started to climb down. The figure quickly pushed S/n off the ladder, sending him to hit the wall, blood trickling down his face. His body unconscious. Y/n called out moving towards her son, only for the figure to throw her back. Her head hitting the glass vase, her eyes were in and out of focus. Sam rushed and grabbed S/n, moving him outside in the car before coming back. “We have to set this place on fire...it’s the only way we can get rid of this” Sam stated. Dean nodded in agreement.

Y/n attempted to stand as she held her head. “Fine” She said. Y/n limped as she helped Sam pour gasoline inside the home. Sam started the fire before him and Dean walked out. Y/n behind them. As she went to walk out, the door slammed shut, causing the brothers to turn back and rush towards the door. It wouldn’t budge, Y/n was dragged back against the wall, she felt helpless, like she would die this way. And she never got a chance to make things right with Dean.

Tears filled her eyes as she sat in defeat. Dean cussed under his breath before removing his jacket. “Where are you going?” Sam asked. Dean looked back at his brother. “To get my woman” he said before going around the home. He breaks the window, wincing lightly before he climbed through. He rushed as he peeked through the flames, finding Y/n. He rushed over, she was in and out. “Y/n, don’t close your eyes yet okay? We’re gonna get you out of this” he said as he held her against him. “Dean, What are you doing? Aren’t you going to leave me to die? like you walked out of my life....you shouldn’t care” she coughed. Dean shook his head. “I did it to protect you, I didn’t wanna harm you with this lifestyle, I knew it would get worse but I realized, I do love you, Y/n I’ve been in love with you. I’ve never stopped, and I’m not stopping now” he said as tears fell down his face.

He coughed as he picked up Y/n, rushing to the door and kicking it open. The two rushed away from the home before anything could explode. Y/n watched her home burn to the ground before her vision became black and foggy.

Y/n’s vision came into place, the machine beeping as she looked around, S/n was sleeping peacefully in his bed. His breathing seeming fine, a cast on his leg. She raised up only to be met with a worried Sam and Dean. “Y/n, are you okay?” Sam asked. Dean rolled his eyes. “If she was do you think we’d be here?” he said. Sam ignored his brother. “Is it over?” She asked. Dean nodded his head along with Sam. “It is, Sam’s been worrying over you both, it was a little annoying” Dean said causing her to let out a small laugh. “You were just crying about them” Sam exposed Dean. The two didn’t bicker any further, not wanting to disturb S/n’s rest.

“I’ll leave you guys to talk, I’m gonna see if a doctor is available” Sam said as he got up from his spot. Walking out the door, closing it behind him. Dean placed his hand on her forehead. “You kicked ass” he chuckled. “You did too” She said. The two sat in silence a bit before Dean spoke. “So what are you going to do now?” he asked. She frowned at his question. Their home is gone, what can she do now?.

“I’m not even sure. I don’t know what I’m gonna do” she said. Dean had cleared his throat. “I was hoping...you would accept joining me and Sam? I don’t wanna miss out on S/n’s life or yours, I actually, I wanna be with you and I’m hoping you’ll want the same” he said. Dean hadn’t ever been big on expressing his feelings or the truth. Yet Y/n loved that about him, when he would speak with her about his feelings.

She smiled softly. “Anything for you Dean Winchester” she smiled. Dean smiled before pulling her in a kiss, S/n waking up from his rest. “Nice to see someone else awake, your mother and I have some news” Dean said as he walked over, ruffling S/n hair.

-3 months later-

Dean sat in the drivers seat, waiting for Y/n to return, S/n and Sam had been chatting in the backseat. He tapped his hand on the wheel, playing with his ring a bit. Y/n soon walked out before she got in the car. “I got snacks cause why not” She chuckled as she handed the bag to Sam. “What was taking you so long?” Dean asked. Y/n smiled as she placed a kiss on his cheek. “No need to pressure me Mr. Winchester. You Winchester’s are impatient” she said playfully.

Dean started the car as he looked over at Y/n. “You married me so that means you are too” He chuckled. She playfully slapped his hand as he started driving. The four of them chatting in the car.

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jgukmilk · 3 years

Text

he won’t know 03 (m) final

➔ summary: after weeks of hiding from the world, your friend, Mina, finally convinces you to crawl out of your cave and join her at a friday-frat party. You definitely didn’t think you’d end up with the person you had spent several weeks trying to avoid.

➔ pairing: Jungkook X Reader

➔ genre: cheating!au, smut, angst if you squint, much deserved fluff fucking finally

➔ warnings: mention of sexual assault, unprotected sex, soft sex because i’m a whore for that shit, jungoo is the one crying in this part, jungoo being a soft idiot nothing out of the ordinary, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), handjob, fingering, mild dirty talk, cervix kisses :), cum eating, throat fucking•_•, runny mascara because it’s chef’s kiss, soft dom jungoo, a really lame biology pick up line at the end that i am pathetically proud of, that’s it..? it’s unedited btw :P

➔ wordcount: 8.3k

➔ a/n: this was a bitch to finish but holy fuck. hope you enjoy ;) feedback is always appreciated !

part 1, part 2, part 3 final.

It had officially been seventeen and-a-half days since Jungkook came to visit you at your dorm, only to end up in you crying your eyes out in front of him and shove him out of your room.

Mina came home later that night and questioned your tear-stained cheeks. Did you tell her? No, of course not. You brushed it off and convinced her that you were having a hard time with the breakup with Jaehyun, that everything was still so fresh, and you simply just needed time. Though that was as far from the truth as it could possibly be, she believed you regardless which you were thankful for.

You didn’t miss Jaehyun, not one bit. You hadn’t seen him after your last encounter, and you thanked your stars daily. To be honest you weren’t given a chance to run into that asshole since you had reduced your time spent outside of the dorm.

Your schedule pretty much consisted of wake up, go to your classes, come back to the dorm, study, eat, sleep, repeat. It sounded like one of those shabby T-shirt every twelve-year-old would wear back in middle school and show it off for being ‘quirky’.

You weren’t complaining, you preferred things this way, for now at least. Though you couldn’t deny that you missed your friends, but you needed some time alone and you knew that, so to distract yourself from missing your friends, what better way to do so than studying till the ass-crack of dawn on a Friday night.

Fridays were the only day of the week you could spend peacefully unbothered. Every other day would consist of countless texts and calls from your friends asking about your whereabouts and why they almost never saw you around campus anymore.

To which you told them you were busy studying and thanked them for checking in on you. It wasn’t a complete lie, you were, in fact, busy studying. They never saw you because, you were always on your desk burying your face between the pages of a textbook. What you didn’t tell them was that you were so far ahead with the curriculum that you could go a whole two weeks without even touching any of your books and you wouldn’t be behind.

You never realized how much you had read ahead until a few days ago when your biology professor had only begun to teach you about DNA replication, transcription and translation. You had already covered half of it.

Your professor always did say that the unspoken rule of studies was to always read ahead. Though you didn’t think he meant to this certain extent.

You hadn’t felt academic stress in a while due to your habit of studying so much, and you were happy about it of course, but holy fuck, you were so bored, and it was starting to get to you.

“Y/N!” perfect timing for your best friend to break you out of your thoughts. Mina happily pranced through your shared dorm room and over to you, “Mina” you said back, smiling, although not in the same enthusiasm, meh – A for effort.

“Oh my god, you’re actually awake,” she said, placing herself on her bed while remaining eye contact with you.

“Well yeah, I have some topics I still need to cover before I go to bed,” Lies. You certainly didn’t have any topics you needed to cover. You would’ve gone to bed if you knew Mina was coming back to the dorm so early. It was Friday night after all, which meant that Mina was out partying with the rest of the guys. Not today, apparently.

“Isn’t there a party today?” you asked, flipping through the pages of the book in front of you, pretending to read through the paragraphs that seemed like nothing more than dull words.

“Well… yeah, but, I figured I’d rather spend my night with you – you know, since it’s... it’s been a while,” you immediately stopped fiddling with the paper, “oh,” was all you could say. “I-I mean, if you wanna study, you totally can! I don’t want to interrupt or – or anything.” You shook your head, “no, no… uhm, I could use a break anyway.” Her face relaxed.

“So… how’ve you been?” you looked around the room, “I’m okay, just studying, nothing else really,” you reassured her “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” she said, barely above a whisper, however you could still make out the melancholic tone hidden behind her voice.

“yeah… I’m sorry, I’m just – “

“studying? Yeah that seems to be your entire world lately.” She cut you off, her voice a little louder than it was previously. You opened your mouth to respond but – “Y/N c’mon, I know I haven’t necessarily been with you physically lately, but I’m not oblivious. Our exams are in a couple of months and you’re studying as if they’re tomorrow.” She explained all in one breath, “the curriculum this semester isn’t even that content-heavy, even the professors told us we could take it easy.”

“where are you going with this?” you asked in a weak voice. She seemed to have you all figured out. You truly underestimated how well your best friend understood you. “I just want to know why? Why are you avoiding your friends… why are you avoiding me?”

And then it came back. Everything you had been trying to avoid for the past two weeks came back. Jaehyun, the cheating, the assault, Jungkook. You began to feel your eyes stinging, subconsciously you averted them towards the ceiling. “Y/N, there’s something you’re not telling me. I want to help, please let me help.”

You made your way towards the bed, seating yourself next to her, “is this about Jaehyun? Do you miss hi–“

“No, God no I don’t, I’m so happy he’s out of my life,” she looked at you perplexed. And so, you told her. You told her absolutely everything, all the way from Jaehyun trying to touch you when you were trying to explain yourself to him, to the conversation you had with Jungkook in your dorm room several days ago.

“I’m gonna kill him,” you swiftly reached for her hand as you saw her attempt to rush out of your shared dorm, “no! I… It’s over now, he’s out of my life, there’s no reason to go look for him.”

“Of course there is! Why didn’t you–!” She yelled, however quickly stopped herself to calm down. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? He’s getting away with this when he deserves to rot in hell.” It wasn’t that simple. You never wanted to see him again, and telling any form of authority about what had happened certainly meant you were going to cross paths with him often.

Plus, it wasn’t even likely that they would’ve believed you, after all it was your word against his. There was no physical evidence of what he had done. You had your ripped clothes but you threw those away the day after the incident, you never wanted to look at them again and be reminded of this crap.

Then you had the bruises on your wrist, but Jaehyun could easily say that you guys had been into some sort of bdsm to make them believe him. They were also healed now, so there was no evidence at all to secure your side.

“I don’t want to constantly be reminded of what he did, I just want to move forward. Please, you can’t tell anyone.” Your voice cracked at the end, in which Mina reached out to hold your hand. “I don’t want anyone to know,” you cried.

“I’m so sorry, bug,” Mina rubbed your back empathetically, in a subtle attempt to calm you down. Though Mina tried her best to not scream at the top of her lungs, spitting out every profanity to curse Jaehyun. This wasn’t about her, and she knew that very well.

All she could do was comfort you and listen to everything you had bottled up for weeks. “You know what you need?” she smiled at you gently. You sniffled, rubbing your red, tear-stained cheeks, “what?”

“You need fresh air, to doll up and feel good! We all miss you so much Y/N, I don’t want you to spend another Friday night in here alone by yourself.” You raised an eyebrow, silently urging her to continue, “Wooyoung’s parent are out of town for the weekend so he’s hosting are party.”

“And?”

“And we’re going!” she clapped excitingly, “no Mina I–“ she held both your hands tightly, puppy eyes were presented right in front of you, “pleaseeee, just for an hour, you can leave after that if you don’t like it.”

You thought about it for a moment. You did deserve a break, you needed to get out of the dorm anyway, have some fun with your friends, maybe even get a bit of well-deserved alcohol in your system.

“Fuck it, let’s do i–“

“YES! Okay, okay I know exactly what you’re wearing.” She rushed over to her closet, rummaging through fabric after fabric while you silently watched behind her, seated on your own bed. “Put this on right now,” You didn’t get a good look at the clothing item she threw at you, all you knew was that the fabric was quite tiny. It was a beautiful dark navy and black fabric that was smooth to the touch.

It was a woolen, striped bodycon dress. True to its name – it looked very tight. You looked at her perplexed, “that’s me being nice. My other option was throwing you my skirt that would barely cover your juicy ass.” You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless, “fine, what shoes with?” she pointed at your black high-top converse that were placed neatly by the door. Alright, black converse it was.

–

“Y/N?” was the first thing you heard when walking through the door, entering the crowd of drunks. Before you stood your friends, the friends you had missed oh so much. Jimin was the first to run to you, lifting you off the ground to swing you around, “Y/N!” He laughed excitingly. Right behind him stood Seokjin, “Okay, I’ve had too much to drink guys I’m starting see Y/N,” you couldn’t help but laugh, “Hi Jin.”

One by one, they each gave you a heartwarming hug. Wow, you missed them, and you didn’t even realize, “about time you got out of the damn dorm,” Taehyung complained, you playfully slapped his shoulder. “You don’t get to say shit, you rot in your own dorm just as much as I do when you don’t have classes,” smiling, he scoffed, “I have altered my ways, about time you did too,” you shook your head.

You hadn’t noticed that an hour had already passed by, and you didn’t want to leave one bit. Your night was just getting started. Looking around you spotted all your friends, all but two. Neither had you seen the entire party: Yoongi and Jungkook.

“Jin!” you loudly spoke through the banging music, “yeah?!” he replied, “have you seen Yoongi?” you cupped your mouth in attempt to speak as clearly as possible, “What?! No thank you! I don’t wan’t Oolong tea. There’s booze why would I want tea?!” You rubbed your face, dragging Jin’s ear closer to your mouth, “Have you seen Yoongi?”

“OW, Jesus woman.” He rubbed his ear, “He should be in the kitchen,” you thanked him, and apologetically smiled for almost ripping his ear off.

You skipped your way through the heavy crowd of drunk youth. Some of which even looked younger than that. A string of ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ was heard from you as you pushed your way to the kitchen.

“Yoongi?” he turned around, seeing you. He eyed the drink in his hand that resembled the color of piss, “I’ve had too much,” the bottom of the cup now faced the ceiling, the remainder of the liquid spilling down the edge of the cup and down the sink.

“Okay, you guys really have to stop doing that,” you laughed.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” The mint-haired boy asked in a monotone, your smile faltered.

“I’m happy to see you too?” your voice was skeptical. He seemed annoyed, which frankly, you didn’t understand. You hadn’t seen the man in well over two weeks, no way had he found a reason to be mad at you unless you had happened to eat the last lamb skewer in his dream. He always did love his lamb skewers.

“’M sorry, my head’s spinning,” instantly your suspicion was replaced with worry. You quickly made your way to the sink and filled a glass with cold water and handed it to him, which he gratefully accepted. “How’ve you been?”

You sighed, “you want the rainbow-sprinkled version or the one that was dragged through the mud, shat and pissed on,” he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’ll take the piss-stained version, thank you.” He placed the red, water filled plastic cup next to him on the kitchen counter.

“Rough couple of weeks. I’m doing better though, so that’s something.” You shrugged your shoulders. Yoongi listened carefully, gently tilting his head to the side anticipating for you to keep going, however you didn’t, that was all you were going to say. Yoongi wasn’t stupid, clearly something had happened to make you disappear for weeks, but whatever it was it had to remain unknown for him – he wasn’t going to push you to talk to him.

“And where’s Jaehyun been through all of this?” he speculated.

“Uhm, we broke up,” you tried to laugh it off. His brows raised in surprise.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry–“ your hands swung in front of you to shake them. To Yoongi, you had most likely looked like you were sad from the breakup, understandably so. Afterall that is the typical reaction to a breakup, isn’t it?

“Don’t be! My god, no. It could – I’m not –“ you closed your eyes, sighing gently, “It was for the best.”

“I’m not going, Tae,” Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and index finger, attempting to rub the non-existing headache out of his temples.

“Come on, Jungkook. It’s been a hot minute since you’ve partied with all of us,” a hot minute, was putting it lightly. Jungkook was currently in his own shared dorm with Taehyung, with a black DualShock controller seated in his lap – enjoying a game of overwatch shortly before Taehyung had dialed his number. Several empty packets of ramen placed randomly across the room.

Different flavors of course. Variety was important.

“Can’t. ‘m busy.” Though Jungkook couldn’t see it, he was sure Taehyung had rolled his eyes through the other line. “Busy my ass,” Taehyung sighed, “you do this every week.”

“I wouldn’t have to do this every week if you would just stop asking,” Jungkook spat back, with a little more attitude than he had intended. “Jungshi,” the older friend started, “you can’t let this bother you forever,” he knew. Fuck, no one knew better than Jungkook that he couldn’t spend the rest of eternity sulking over this. Over you.

But no one knew how Jungkook was feeling either, every living fiber of his felt either conflicted or guilty. He couldn’t help but think that what had happened to you, was partially his fault – no, it was entirely his fault. Whatever Jaehyun had done was because of Jungkook.

Your words circled back and forth in his mind, day and night. Whenever he closed his eyes all he could see was your tear-stained orbs looking at him with so much hurt and hatred. Telling him to leave and that you never wanted to see him again.

All he wanted to do was talk to you, to know how you were feeling. Were you okay? Were you not? Jungkook had to make peace with the fact that he might in fact never get any answer for any of his questions. All he wanted was to see you, just for one small, useless moment.

He hadn’t seen you since that day. Frankly, it seemed like you had completely vanished from the face of the earth, even the guys hadn’t seen you. He managed to get a hold of Mina a few times, briefly asking of your whereabouts. She always tried her best to console and reassure him that you were okay, you were just always busy lately.

Busy.

You were always busy. Jungkook wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what it meant: you were escaping.

Busy.

Oh, how Jungkook had grown to hate that word. How very hypocritical of him, he was mentally scolding you for using the lame excuse of being ‘busy’, all while doing the exact same behind the screen of his phone to his best friend.

“I just need time, hyung.” Jungkook tried to justify. “Time?” Taehyung scoffed, “You’ve had two weeks. I’m sorry Guk, but I’m not gonna sit around while I watch you completely lose yourself.” The younger slid further down the chair, staring blankly at the bright screen displaying the home-screen of his favorite video game.

“She’s here.”

Silence…

You… you were there? He could see you. Jungkook had a chance to see you. “Good to know,” was all he could say. “And you don’t give a rat’s ass?” Of course, he did, but he couldn’t because, “she doesn’t want to see me, hyung. If I show up, I’ll ruin her night. She isn’t hiding from the world anymore.”

“You can’t be sure– “

“Yes, I can,” Jungkook closed his eyes, a small exhale moved past his lips, “I can’t ruin this. Please don’t make me ruin this for her.” His voice was barely above a whisper. He felt weak. He couldn’t describe the growing urge he felt to rush over to whatever party you were at, just to see you. But he couldn’t be selfish. Not again.

Last time he acted selfishly he hurt you. He lost you. He wasn’t sure how it could get any worse – after all, you were out of his life, but Jungkook wasn’t willing to be daring, not if it meant it would hurt you again.

“Fine,” an extended beep was heard from the small speaker of the phone. Completely defeated, Jungkook gently threw his phone back onto his bed. Leaning back in his chair he faced the ceiling. He couldn’t seem to get himself to play another game, so shutting everything down, he went to get himself ready for bed.

Diving under the cool, fluffy sheets didn’t seem to be enough for Jungkook to knock out, which was odd. Jungkook could easily fall asleep anywhere on anything. One time he even managed to fall into a deep sleep after downing two 500ml Monster energy drinks. He had planned to pull an all-nighter with some of his online friends for a good few games of Valorant, the best way to do so was to shove an insanely unhealthy amount of energy drinks down the hatch.

He didn’t expect it to be so easy to fall asleep right away – he didn’t even remember walking over to his bed before dropping dead. But this, this was just frustrating.

He tossed and turned for what felt like hours, until when he finally felt his eyelids become heavy, a key was heard jiggling in the lock of the door. It must’ve taken Jungkook longer to fall asleep than he had anticipated if Taehyung had already decided to leave the party; that boy wouldn’t leave a party unless bits of the morning sunlight was peeking through the windows of the house of the host.

The door finally opened. Jungkook squinted his eyes, adjusting to the new light shining through the door frame. A black silhouette walked pasted the door. It wasn’t until Jungkook’s blurry vision had cleared up that he noticed a feminine like figure standing at the door. Not just anybody, no.

You. In fact.

Jungkook felt his heart begin to tie knots. He was dreaming for sure; there was no way you could just appear in his dorm of all dorms. But there you were, in the flesh. You gently clasped the bundle of keys in your palm, preventing them from making any further noise, taking soft strides through the room – you probably thought he was asleep.

You quietly made your way over to Taehyung’s bed, opening the drawer of his nightstand. Jungkook’s eyes monitoring your every move went completely unnoticed by you. The poor boy was in awe, it was like you were an angel that had descended from heaven and blessed him with your presence. Frankly, in Jungkook’s eyes, you were an angel.

You let a small aha slip past your lips, in your hands was a turquoise polaroid camera. You neared the delicate camera to your face, making sure it was the right item through the darkness, and indeed it was.

About to make your way out of the dorm, your head turned slightly; in the direction of the boy that was currently sweating his balls off and his heart pounding like crazy. Fuck, did you see him looking at you? You must’ve, you wouldn’t look at him otherwise. Could you hear his heart beating through his ribcage? That has to be it, after all it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

He hurriedly closed his eyes, praying to the lord above that for once in Jungkook’s cursed life, the spirits would work in his favor. God, if you do this for me, I won’t fart on Taehyung’s head pillow anymore.

You slowly made your way over to Jungkook’s bed, with each step you took he felt a new set of sweat gather in his warm palms. He couldn’t feel anything, all he heard was the shuffle of his blanket. The blanket that was supposed to be on him.

While Jungkook had gone unnoticed to you, the absence of his soft, grey blanket on his body had been completely disregarded. He had tossed so much in his unreachable sleep that he had kicked his blanket right off of him.

Not only did Jungkook feel his body overcome in warmth, but his heart also danced at the thought of you going out of your way to cover him in his blanket. Your kindness really was out of this world.

No matter how many times someone had hurt you, you never failed to leave the ways of resentment and treat people with kindness. You were truly too kind for your own good. That was one of your qualities that Jungkook was most fond of, the world didn’t deserve you. it didn’t deserve an angel.

You on the other hand, were completely oblivious to the fact that the man in front of you was wide awake. You crouched down by the side of his bed, you really should get going, you weren’t supposed to linger for so long.

Your eyes trailed the sleeping beauty on the bed. He looked so peaceful, his long eyelashes resting on the top of his cheek, a few of the hairs grazing the scar on right side of the skin. His dark hair was sprawled over his forehead. His lips were sealed, but slightly pouty, they looked so soft.

You couldn’t make much of his face, the only source of light being the moon light throw the window.

You hand moved on its own. Fingers trailing to the strands of the dark hair, moving the silky locks out of his face.

You wish things had been different between you. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t miss Jungkook, which is the exact lie you had been telling yourself for weeks. Even though he was right in front of you, you missed him. No, fuck. You couldn’t miss him, even though you wanted things to be different, they never could be.

You snapped out of your daze, removing your hands from his face, you stood up and turned your heel.

“Don’t leave.” You flinched, a small holy shit, was heard from you. Turning back around, you saw Jungkook in the exact same position you had left him in, the only difference was that his eyes were now open. The warm orbs you were completely dazed by were now looking at you.

You had to leave, but you couldn’t, your feet grew minds of their own, obediently staying in place.

Jungkook sat up from his bed, never breaking eye contact with you. He was now seated at the edge of his bed, hands on either side of his thighs, tightly clenching on the sheets beneath him in order to prevent himself from reaching out after you.

There was no exchange of words, you were both lost in each other’s gazes. You were clutching your jacket tightly, looking like a dear caught in head lights. You took a step backwards, gathering every ounce of power you had in your body to try and get out of there. You just couldn’t stay.

“Please,” his voice sounded broken. There it was again – the expression on his face you had never learned to read. His eyelids were droopy, eyebrows relaxed yet slightly furrowed.

He rose from his bed, testing the waters. He examined your reaction before moving any further. When he saw you standing completely still, he took a step forward; you didn’t move, so he took yet another step. That’s when you started to back away, you didn’t look scared or alarmed, so he continued.

This kept going until the back of your thighs met a desk you had failed to notice was there in the first place. You have got to start paying more attention to your surroundings.

Jungkook was now in front of you, eyes looking at yours, searching for any sign of uncertainty. But all he saw was sadness and hurt. His heart clenched in discomfort, because partially – if not all – of the hurt in your eyes was because of him.

He wanted to pour his heart out to you, tell you he was sorry for being an asshole. Tell you he would cut his heart into pieces and hand it to you one by one if that’s what it took to make you happy.

But he wanted to be cautious, he didn’t want to scare you off. So instead, he carefully, carefully, lifted his hand up to your face. The knuckle of his middle finger grazed the side of your cheek. You didn’t flinch.

He extended his fingers to hold your cheek in his palm, his thumb ever so slightly caressing the flush skin. It wasn’t until you leaned into his touch that he felt how warm you were. He could barely make out the light tint of a rosy color on your cheeks. Must’ve been from the booze you’ve ingested at the party, he thought.

Unbeknownst to him, you had barely had enough alcohol to call yourself tipsy.

Deep in your own thoughts, you felt Jungkook’s other hand slip around your waist, the fingers on your cheek descended down to accompany his other hand.

He was hugging you. His face was buried right in the crook of your neck, arms securely wrapped around your frame, fearing for his dear life that you were going to let go of him. His fragile soul couldn’t take it if you did.

You, however, couldn’t bring yourself to hug him back, not until you felt the skin on your shoulder grow wet. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed, barely above a whisper – audible to your ear, nonetheless.

He pulled away, his hands resting on your sides lamely. His eyes were glossy, the tip of his nose red, and a few tears had trailed down his cheeks, leaving stains of the salty water. “I’m – It’s my fault, all of it, I know I don’t deserve it but please forgive me.” he sniffled, “I know you hate me, and you have every right to – “

“I don’t hate you,” for the first time that night, you spoke to him. Your voice instantly sedated the distress in Jungkook. You wiped the tears streaming down his face with your cold thumb, which only caused more to fall. “You should… It’s all my fault.”

Although that had been your exact theory for the past weeks, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that the statement was true anymore. You continuously blamed Jungkook for everything that had happened to you, but that wasn’t fair, you realized that now.

Because if Jungkook really was at fault, then so were you. After all, it takes two to tango.

“It’s not,” you tried to soothe the tremendous guilt you could recognize behind his doe eyes, it was the exact same guilt you had felt when you returned from the weekend at the summerhouse. The same guilt that had eaten every bit of your fiber. Blaming yourself for days for having cheated on your now ex-boyfriend who turned out to be the biggest piece of shit to walk the earth.

“You didn’t force me to do anything,” you admitted, “but that fucker – “ Jaehyun, Jungkook hissed.

“Anything that came after the summerhouse wasn��t your fault. Jaehyun showed me who he really was – an asshole in disguise,” at the mention of what you had been through, Jungkook’s grip on your sides tightened slightly. You knew he was blaming himself for what Jaehyun had done.

It wasn’t anyone but Jaehyun’s fault.

You cupped his face in both your hands, smiling softly, “please stop blaming yourself for something you had no control over.” You spoke to him, but also to yourself.

For the longest time you thought it was your fault, that if you hadn’t slept with Jungkook, that you and Jaehyun would still be happy and he would never had touched you like he did.

You and Jaehyun hadn’t been happy for a while, and if he hadn’t snapped you would’ve continued to date A-level garbage.

It took you some time to realize that it was never your fault, and it most certainly wasn’t Jungkook’s fault. Your stomach dropped at the thought of him blaming himself so mercilessly.

He sniffled harder at your words, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorr–“

The kiss was soft. You could tell he completely froze against your lips. Your hands were still on his cheeks; the feel of the occasional tear grazed the skin of your fingers. It didn’t take long for him to melt completely against the plush of your warm lips.

His arms moved back around your waist, pulling you against him until you were flush against his chest. You pulled away. He followed you, refusing that’d be the end of your kiss. His pleading lips captured yours in a second kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck in an attempt to deepen the kiss, not having much room to move them any place else when Jungkook was pressing himself so hard against you.

“I missed you,” he breathed between the kiss “so much.” Fuck, if only he knew how much you had missed him, “I couldn’t bare not having you around me.” You hummed against his mouth, hoping he understood that you reciprocated.

You felt his warm tongue scrape against your top lip, pleading to have a taste of yours. You complied easily. Opening your mouth for him to explore the heavenly wonder that was your mouth.

You had kissed Jungkook before, but this felt different, it was softer, much more gentle. The gliding of his tongue against yours felt new, but so right.

You soon came to the agreement that kissing Jungkook was one of your favorite things to do. The slow dance of your lips increased the beating of your heart, you were sure he could feel it knock against his chest.

He lifted your body, as if you were a feather and seated you on the desk behind you, standing right between your legs. His hands resting on either thigh, gently caressing the bare flesh.

Your lips suddenly felt cold, opening your eyes you found Jungkook’s brown orbs staring right at you. Worry began to creep its way up your spine. “What’s wrong?”

“Do… Do you want me to stop?”

He was being careful. Careful not to cross any boundaries. He couldn’t fuck up again, not this time. You smiled at him. Taking his hand in yours, you placed a peck at the top of his palm, “not at all.”

Jungkook swears his heart melted then and there; the softness in your eyes, the relaxed tone of your voice, there was no hesitation. You felt safe, which was everything Jungkook ever wanted.

He leaned back in, you closed your eyes, puckering up thinking he was going in for another kiss. You felt a pair of soft bud-like lips at the side of your jaw, “beautiful,” he whispered to himself. He kissed the top of your covered shoulder.

You leaned back slightly, both hands steady behind you to support you weight. Jungkook leaned forward, following you, refusing that any sort of distance was between you.

Even though you had given him the ok, you could feel Jungkook was slightly hesitant in his moves, which was nothing like the Jungkook you had in front of you almost an entire month ago. He was so confident and cocky, yet now, he seemed unsure.

He was afraid of touching you and screwing up everything.

“I won’t leave this time,” you whispered, moving your head so that you were now looking at him, “I’m not gonna run away.” You took his hand in yours, guiding them towards your tits. Jungkook watched in awe as his hand completely engulfed your breast.

You let go of his hand when you felt him begin to fondle with the perky tit. He moved back to your neck, but instead of small affectionate kisses, he now began to place open-mouthed kisses at the expanse of your neck. You tilted your head to the side, allowing him more space; you felt the corners of his lips curl slightly.

You gasped at the feeling of his tongue gliding over the skin, slapping your hand over your mouth. While one of his hands were busy with your chest, the other removed the hand from your face, “don’t, you sound so pretty.”

The fingers that were once wrapped around your hand moved down your torso, grazing the apex of your thigh. With his mouth still busy on your neck, he hoisted the length of your stripped dress (that was actually Mina’s), just enough to expose most of your legs, but not enough to reveal the fabric of your underwear.

The pad of his cold fingers slithered over the black textile experimentally. Carefully brushing over your clothed clit, you whimpered. You sounded downright touch deprived.

The lustful boy in front of you began sucking on your neck, all while cupping your clothed cunt without warning. “Fuck,” You jumped at the overwhelming touch.

“So sensitive” he mumbled, “aren’t you, angel,” you hummed at the rightfully missed affectionate name. You gripped his shoulders when you felt him massage a little harsher at your mound. Your underwear was beginning to stick to your folds embarrassingly fast.

Jungkook curled a finger around the section of fabric that was directly against your pussy. Providing access for his hand to touch your warmth without removing your underwear. A muffled, high pitched moan of his name rolled off your tongue at his slender finger sliding into your velvety walls.

You were already so wet, and you were sure he noticed how embarrassed you were about it, with the way you were discreetly trying to close your legs.

He used his other hand to keep your legs apart. “Don’t be shy,” he soothed, “I love this pretty” he scraped his finger against the spongy spot, “pretty pussy.”

“Jungkook, please,” you whined, it only caused Jungkook to chuckle whole-heartedly at your neediness, “what is it, baby?” he pressed his thumb against your clit, gently tapping at it. You shuttered.

“I, fuck, I–“ your thighs began to tense, “tell me,” he urged. You were trying your best, but every sentence you were attempted to formulate was instantly thrown out the window the second Jungkook added another finger into your cunt.

His fingers were scraping at your walls, pumping into you or scissoring. The dangerous combination of all of the above, and his thumb rubbing meaningless patterns on your nub had you seeing stars.

Too focused on his magical fingers, you overlooked the small detail of Jungkook now sitting between your thighs, kneeling. He rubbed your thigh soothingly.

Deciding to help you out, Jungkook wrapped his fingers around the lame excuse of your panties, dragging the pathetic fabric down your legs. You were now completely exposed.

Jungkook eyes you between your legs, shamelessly. “Pretty girl,” he wooed. He pulled his fingers out of you, you whined at the empty feeling.

He brought his soaked fingers up to his tongue, slowly licking them clean, all while maintaining eye contact with you. Telling yourself you could cum from the sight alone was in no way an understatement.

“Mmm, good, so fucking good.” He purred against his fingers. “Bet it would taste even better from here,” teasingly, he slid his finger up your soaked slit, punctuating his sentence, “wouldn’t it, angel?” You quivered at his words. “is that what you want?” yes. “your words, pretty girl.”

“Yes – Yes, please. Please eat me out,” without further ado, Jungkook wasted no time placing a much-deserved kiss on your swollen bud. You moaned in relief, throwing your head back at the feeling of Jungkook’s lips circling your clit.

You bucked your hips at the feeling of his tongue sloppily gliding against your folds. Your fingers found themselves tangled in Jungkook’s dark and messy locks. He praised you.

Small grunts and low moans were felt against your warm cunt, “such a pretty pussy,” he mumbled to himself against you. You clenched around nothing at the compliment.

“Feels so good,” you cooed, “yeah?” small licks turned into long laps, “yeah – fuck, don’t stop.” Stopping was the furthest thing from Jungkook’s mind.

You felt knots beginning to tie at the pit of your stomach, Jungkook could easily feel you were about to burst. The constant tugging of his hair and the pulsating cunt was all he needed, to know he was doing his job right.

“I love seeing you so needy for me,” at this point, you’re chanting his name shamelessly. It isn’t until Jungkook adds a finger lamely circling your clit that you feel you’re about to snap. The familiar ache between your legs became almost unbearable, you threw your head back and shut your eyes.

“Eyes on me when you cum,” you obliged. Bending your head forward to watch Jungkook eat your cunt as if he hadn’t eaten in days. The view was the most sinful yet the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. His brows are furrowed, he murmured against your warmth. You occasionally saw the tip of his nose, and when you did it was absolutely soaked in your arousal.

“Oh my fuck– Jungkook.”

It’s only when Jungkook uttered his next sentence that you felt the knot in your stomach unravel. “Fuck, baby, I could eat you out for the rest of my life,” you’re breaking apart.

Your hips surge forward, pathetically grinding on Jungkook’s face — he lets you. Helping you ride out your high, he slowly laps his tongue over your spasming pussy. He’s watching your every move, “delicious,” he smiled innocently as if his mouth wasn’t completely covered in your cum.

He stood up once again, licked his lips clean in the process and you swore you just felt something trail down your thigh. Once he was at eye-level with you, you looked down and saw the tent that has formed in his sweatpants.

Naturally, you go to grab his cock. Not wanting to waste time, you wrapped your fingers around it over the material. He visibly shuttered at the feeling, and it wasn’t until then that you realized you hadn’t touched Jungkook – at all. Not even back at the summer house.

Here you were, complaining over how selfish Jaehyun used to be whenever you two were having sex, saying he never touched you properly or showed any ounce of effort.

You weren’t any different. So far, Jungkook had only been the giver, and you had been a spoiled pillow princess.

Trailing your eyes back up to Jungkook, you watched him carefully as you curled a finger around the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers simultaneously, dragging the unnecessary material down his legs.

His cock sprung up, hitting his stomach. The tip was red and hot, several drops of precum dripped down the angry shaft. He was impossibly hard and you began to feel guilt overcome you for having been so selfish with pleasure. Determined to make it up to him, you placed all five tips of your fingers at the very apex of his cock, sliding down until your palm comes in contact with the tip.

The prettiest whine you’d ever heard rolled off of Jungkook’s lips, he watched you attentively, “y-you don’t have to–“ you shushed him, “I want to.”

You twist your wrist and positioned your fingers around his dick. Using your thumb to spread the precum, you lightly brush his frenulum in which he grunts, “fuck, babyyy,” unintentionally thrusting up into your hand.

You squeezed harder and began to pump his cock. The surprising rotation of your wrist was enough to have him slap both hands on either side of the desk, completely trapping you.

“Faster,” he pleads, “go faster,” and you do. His head drops down to your shoulder. He tried to distract himself by sucking another bruise onto the skin of your neck, but it was completely hopeless with the pace your hand was pumping.

Rhythmically, he was subtly thrusting his hips into your hand, matching the pace. He couldn’t wait to fuck you, so for the time being, he had to fuck your hand. And God, it felt so good it was almost pathetic how much a handjob could rile him up.

You felt his hips stutter, and now it was his turn to chant your name. You placed a soothing kiss on the expanse of his shoulder, “Mmm gonna – haah, shit,” You hurriedly pushed him back gently and dropped to your knees. “What are you – Fuck!”

Most of his length is now shoved down as much as your gag reflex allows, and it isn’t until you have Jungkook’s cock halfway down your throat that you realize how fucking impressive his size is. The thought of having him stretch you out with his girth is enough to make you wet all over again.

Jungkook can’t resist collecting your strands of hair up into a ponytail and piston into your mouth, “s-sorry, I’m sorry,” strings of apologies are heard throughout the room, along with the sound of you choking. Your eyes begin to sting, fresh tears falling down the side of your cheek. He continues to fuck your throat, and contrary to his belief, you fucking love it.

You steady yourself by grabbing the sides of his thighs. Echoes of Jungkook’s moans and heavy sighs fill the room, alongside the sound of his cock continuously thrusting down your throat.

“so pretty, you’re s-so fucking pretty like this,” you hum at his praise, “like the feeling of my cock down your throat, huh? Dirty girl, fuck,” at this point your mascara had completely stained your cheeks.

The sight of your brows furrowed, eyes filled with tears, mascara-stained cheeks, and the absolute cherry on top: Jungkook repeatedly plunging his impossibly hard cock down your sore throat, was all it took for him to blow his load.

You’ve never heard such a moan come from Jungkook, it sounded broken and you’re certain it’s the most beautiful thing you’ll ever hear in your life. You felt the warm, white liquid coat the walls of your cheeks and throat and you made sure to swallow every single drop.

You’re stopped from licking his dick clean when Jungkook pulls you back up to meet him at eye level. He lifts you up to sit at the desk again, hands on either side of you, he looks you dead in the eye, “I want to fuck you,” he says bluntly.

Your eyes widen slightly at his directness. Confused, you look down at his dick and holy fuck – he was still incredibly hard. Seriously, this boy had some serious stamina. You assumed his extraordinary stamina must’ve developed all those years in the gym.

You felt tiny under his gaze, you meet his eyes, nonetheless.

“Come here and fuck me then.” You felt bold when a shaky breath left his mouth. He hoisted both your legs up to his waist, causing you to lean back slightly, both your hands were forced to sit behind you once again to prevent yourself from falling backwards.

Without another word, Jungkook sealed the distance between your lips with a sweet kiss.

“Ohmygod–” was all you were able to say when his cock slowly disappeared inside of you, your walls of warmth hugging his length. Once again, you had underestimated just how big Jungkook actually was. He snaked a hand to meet the small of your back to steady himself before he finally began to pull himself out, leaving his tip, only to push back in.

You whined at the delicious stretch. Setting a fixed pace, Jungkook repeatedly thrusted into you, while his lips were busy on yours. You wrapped both arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in the hairs of his nape. “Mmm fuck,” he moaned deliciously against your lips.

“Feels good?” he asked, parting your lips with a soft chu. You nodded; your eyelids lazily drooped over your orbs; eyebrows scrunched together at the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix. He felt so good.

“Say it,” he rasped, “tell me how good it feels,” his thrusts grew harder, “tell me how good I’m fucking this pretty pussy. My pussy,” his pussy, yes, it was his.

You cried at the claim. “It feels so good Guk – fuck I love when you fuck me like this.”

He pounded harder, as if he was trying to punctuate something. Both your breaths quickened, equally as eager to chase your own high as you were each other’s. Pushing his chests flush against yours, he leaned his forehead against yours, neither of you broke eye contact.

“L-love you,” he cried. “I love you.”

It felt as if all the air in your lungs was punched out of you, you couldn’t pinpoint whether it was Jungkook’s hips thrusting into yours unforgivingly, or if it was the fact that the boy you basically watched grow up happened to be the same person you’ve liked since middle-school, standing in front of you, telling you he loves you.

You lied to yourself, you genuinely thought whatever strong feeling you felt for Jungkook had died down, that you had truly moved on. You even got a boyfriend and all that.

But it wasn’t until you heard Jungkook utter those three words that you realized they never went away, no – you had hidden those feelings away in a box and chained several chains around it to keep them suppressed.

You loved him too, of course you did. You never stopped loving him for fucks sake. It pains you to think about how much crap both of you were put through for you to realize this.

“I love you.”

12-year-old Y/N was applauding and smiling like crazy; you finally said it. The love you had carried for Jungkook in your poor overwhelmed heart was finally spilled all over the table.

Jungkook’s hips stuttered at your reciprocating words. He hadn’t expected you to say it back, but for the love of all that is holy; he loved hearing you say it, it sounded so pretty coming from you. “Say it again,” he was now smiling, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

His eyes were glowing, so of course you had to say it again, “I love you. Fuck – I always have.”

“Again.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” completely out of breath, you caressed the side of his cheek, watching as his eyes teared up once again. He only fastened his pace, if that was even humanly possible. Lovingly, you ran your thumb across the scar that laid right on his cheek, “I am in love with you.”

That being said – Jungkook exploded, with you following right after him. You were holding on to each other for dear life, with slow pumps to help ride out your highs. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, at your final clench.

Small strings of I love you’s were heard from Jungkook who was breathlessly panting into your neck. He kissed your temple, guiding a small string of hair behind your ear.

“You know,” he started, “I’ve been in love with you since freshman year of high school,” he smiled adoringly at you, “the first day we had a biology class, I saw you slip a note into my locker that read ‘if I could be a nitrogen base, I’d be adenine so I could be paired with U.’ and there was a small purple bellflower taped to the corner of the paper. You’ve had my heart ever since that day.”

Your eyes widened, physically cringing at yourself in your teenage years, “I can’t believe you knew it was me, and really? That’s what it took for you to like me back?” You giggled, “you can’t blame me, you were, and still are, extremely adorable.” He shrugged his shoulders. You gently pushed his shoulders, feeling your face turn red at the reminder of your rather sappy biology pick up line.

“Well, I’ve loved you since middle school. I win this one, Jeon.”

Saturday 02:57AM

“What’s taking so long, Y/N should be back by now,” Jin winced, eyeing the small watch on his wrist.

Taehyung and Mina looked at each other, “do you think it worked?” Mina questioned, a beaming smile plastered across her face, “yup,” Taehyung crossed his arms proudly. “Operation tell-Y/N-to-get-polaroid-camera-because-Taehyung’s-too-drunk-for-his-own-good-so-that-she-could-be-trapped-in-the-same-room-as-Jungkook-and-make-up… Was a success!”

taglist: @selinashere @jjenjen @ladyartemesia @emsuzz @iamjiminsfloor @silvlyjmhwa

#jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jeongguk smut #fluff #angst #he won't know #fanfic

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ibijau · 3 years

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How to Woo a Lan pt1 / On AO3

Jin Ling is determined to court Lan Sizhui, but can't seem to say two words to him without insulting him. He decides that what he needs is the help of someone who has already successfully seduced a Lan, and he knows something about Nie Huaisang that others don't.

It had been, to put it mildly, a bit of a wild year. Jin Ling had gone from being treated as a child by everyone who met him and being barely mature enough to be trusted alone on a Night Hunt, to having to behave like a full grown adult because he suddenly was the leader of a cut-throat sect that was half falling apart after the early death of its corrupt former leader.

Fifteen was never an easy age, but Jin Ling was pretty sure he had it a little rougher than most people.

Of course, it could have been worse. For one thing, he could have been dead. In fact, he had come pretty close to it a few times, most memorably when he was kidnapped and trapped in the Burial Mounds with other juniors, and when his beloved uncle Jin Guangyao had used him as a hostage and threatened to cut his throat open with a guqin string if he wasn’t allowed to run away after it was revealed he had murdered a number of people, like Jin Ling’s grandfather, and indirectly caused the death of others, like Jin Ling’s father. And then after that there had been a handful of other attempts on Jin Ling’s life once he had become sect leader, because he had older relatives who thought they’d be better at the job, or who other people thought would be easier to corrupt… but really, those attempts just hadn’t been very impressive.

Jin Ling had been raised by Jin Guangyao, so he knew a thing or two about avoiding poison. And he’d been raised by Jiang Cheng as well, so even at his age, there weren’t that many adults who could pose a threat to his life, should they directly attack him.

All in all, the murder attempts hadn’t been so bad. The paperwork and meetings, on the other hand, were the worst thing ever. There were so, so many letters to read, and to analyse, and to answer. And then there were Night Hunt reports. Tracking the progress of junior disciples. Bills. An astonishing number of bills, oftentime for things Jin Ling didn’t even understand, so he had to ask during meetings what the sect was spending money on this time. There was a forty percent chance that it was something frivolous he could cut off, and a fifty percent chance that it was just barely concealed corruption, but since there was the ten percent possibility of that bill being something actually useful, Jin Ling still had to investigate every single one, just in case.

With all this going on, Jin Ling was lucky when he could find an hour here and there to meditate, or work on his cultivation, or train Fairy. He had considered skipping sleep from time to time, but Jiang Cheng had heard about it, somehow, and rushed to Jinlin Tai to scream at him about being irresponsible with his health, as if he were any better. Everyone knew Sandu Shengshou ran on two hours of sleep, medical pills, and rage… but apparently Jin Ling wasn’t alone to do the same. Unfair.

Equally unfair was the fact that in the six months between Jin Guangyao’s death and Jin Ling’s fifteenth’s birthday, he had only gone on two night hunts.

The first was… not so bad. Jin Ling had been forced to have some other Jin disciples come along, which was boring, but then they’d all met up with some Lan and with Ouyang Zizhen, which had been pretty nice. Not quite as nice as it could have been if a certain person had been there, but not quite bad either, because Jin Ling had been able to chat with Ouyang Zizhen who was smarter than he looked, and to argue with Lan Jingyi who was fun to have a shouting match with.

And then, there had been that second Night Hunt. Jin Ling, still dealing with the aftermath of a slightly more efficient assassination attempt after which part of Jinlin Tai had really thought him dead for a good shichen and a half, had stumbled upon a man who had come to beg for the help of his sect and decided he’d help with that. He needed a break from his murderous cousins anyway.

So instead, he called the worst asshole he knew to help him deal with this, for fun.

And Lan Jingyi, for some reason known only to him, decided to let Wei Wuxian come as well.

That was the first problem, Jin Ling later decided. If Wei Wuxian hadn’t been there, things would have gone better. But he just didn’t really know where he stood with the man who had, technically, caused both of his parents to die and whom Jin Ling had, technically, tried to murder in return. The man who had also saved his life several times, without any hesitation.

Lan Jingyi knew that Jin Ling had mixed feelings about Wei Wuxian, who he hadn’t seen since the death of Jin Guangyao. So he had to have asked him to come along on purpose, because Lan Jingyi was a damn asshole and Jin Ling hated his guts, for all that he was probably his best friend at this point.

It wasn’t hard to be the best of something when you were almost the only one.

Anyway, Jin Ling should have guessed that Wei Wuxian would get involved in this, so it wasn’t such a surprise.

But then…

Then, when he arrived at the agreed meeting point, Jin Ling saw Lan Sizhui.

It had been six months, almost. In all that time, Jin Ling hadn’t once gotten any news from the older boy. He’d asked Lan Jingyi during that one Night Hunt, and then again when Lan Jingyi had needed to crash in Jinlin Tai some weeks later, in vain. All Lan Jingyi knew was that Lan Sizhui had gone away with Lan Wangji’s blessing, and that nobody could tell when he’d be back… or if he’d come back at all for that matter, which Jin Ling had found rather ominous. Sure, Lan Sizhui’s father figure had officially married another man, and not the best of men at that, but was it reason enough to run away? Did Lan Sizhui hate Wei Wuxian in particular, or did he have a problem with all cut sleeves? In the first case, it was understandable. In the second case, Jin Ling’s heart would be crushed forever and he would never know happiness again.

But Lan Sizhui was there, and standing next to Wei Wuxian when Jin Ling arrived, chatting with a peaceful yet happy expression and looking quite animated, at least by Lan standards. Jin Ling had the sensation that the two of them hadn’t met in a while, which Lan Sizhui personally confirmed later when Jin Ling had a talk to him as well.

Six months wasn’t such a long time, and yet it had felt an eternity. Lan Sizhui hadn’t grown during that time away, not exactly, but he had a new air of maturity to himself, a certain spark in his eyes that said he had seen more than most others his age. He was a little less willowy as well, his clothes fitting differently on him compared to before, hinting at more strength than he used to have. His smile, though, remained as gentle as ever.

Jin Ling almost cursed upon seeing him.

It seemed he hadn’t gotten over his stupid crush at all.

Thankfully, for most of this, Jin Ling was too busy with the actual Night Hunt to make too much of a fool of himself. It was a pretty weird situation, with a haunted room in which a thief had died, which then led to a story about a man who had killed multiple women in a very gruesome manner. Jin Ling thought they’d handled that pretty well, really. He even got to be a little cool when he volunteered to stay the night in that haunted room to check if the ghost had really been taken care of.

Of course it hadn’t, and that was absolutely terrifying, but Jin Ling kept his cool and got to show off to all those Lan disciples in the morning when he recounted what had happened to him. He thought Lan Sizhui looked a little impressed, but that might just have been because he’d been so sure he’d solved the situation with Lan Jingyi the day before. And Jin Ling was also the one to realise the ghost they were dealing with must have been looking for a certain missing body part, which they needed to retrieve if they were to solve the case.

All things considered, Jin Ling thought he had done really great during this whole Night Hunt, and properly demonstrated to everyone, but especially a certain Lan in particular, what a great mature person he had become.

Of course Jin Ling had to ruin that.

It was just the sort of luck he had.

Jin Ling’s only defence was that he’d been exhausted at that point. They’d just spent five entire days looking for a tongue that had been cut off decades earlier, and although it would have been wise to get some sleep before all heading back to their respective sects… but they were young, they were victorious, and the only adult around to supervise them was Wei Wuxian who firmly believed that Lan juniors should be encouraged to misbehave. So of course they had all gathered at an inn, ordered plenty of food, more drink than reasonable (but that was because Wei Wuxian had to be bribed into silence) and had a bit of a party to celebrate their success.

Because Lan Sizhui had been the one to find the ghost’s tongue, everyone wanted to sit with him, it was only natural. Jin Ling had to glare and bare his teeth and elbow a few people so he could sit next to his friend, while Lan Jingyi easily found his place on the other side of Lan Sizhui by virtue of having known him basically since birth. A most unfair advantage, and one more reason to dislike Lan Jingyi, who was luckier than he had any right to be.

Lan Sizhui didn’t appear to notice how much attention was on him. Or if he did, he pretended it didn’t affect him. He just seemed happy to be spending time with everyone, and to no longer be searching around for that damn tongue. Lan Sizhui laughed at other’s jokes, blushed at their praise, made sure that everyone had enough to eat, and just generally behaved like the most perfect person the world had ever known, which he was. Jin Ling was so delighted to have him back around, and happy to see him so admired by everyone else, so of course he had to let it be known in the worst possible way.

“Of course it’s Lan Yuan who gets all the glory,” Jin Ling said at one point, while pouring himself some wine. “Isn’t it always like this? I’m sure some people must have been glad you disappeared for so long, leaving the rest of us a chance to do something. But now that you’re back, I expect it’ll all be about you, right?”

“What do you mean?” Lan Sizhui asked, his beautiful smile falling down.

Jin Ling frowned at the question. What he meant was that Lan Sizhui was, and by far, the best cultivator of their generation, so it was only natural for people to admire him. Sure some others might envy his great skill, but that was their problem, and now that Lan Sizhui was back in the Cloud Recesses, of course he’d gotten back his rightful place in the spotlight.

What else could he have meant?

“I’ve said what I said,” Jin Ling replied. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

Sure Gusu Lan valued modesty, but someone as great as Lan Sizhui had to know how good he was at everything, so there was no need to be so humble.

“Shut up or I’ll punch you,” Lan Jingyi threatened, his tone vicious enough to catch the attention of Wei Wuxian who’d been mostly ignoring the juniors in favour of his own jars of wine.

Even Jin Ling was startled. It was common enough for Lan Jingyi and him to argue. In fact, that was their main bonding activity, they were always bickering, but there was rarely any actual anger to it. If anything, Lan Jingyi usually seemed to enjoy that he had someone he could snap at who wouldn’t scold him for breaking sect rules. But that night, he suddenly looked earnestly furious, and it puzzled Jin Ling.

Must have been the wine, he figured. Those Lan just couldn’t handle alcohol.

“Don’t drink if you can’t deal with it,” Jin Ling said. “And don’t get angry at people just because they’re right.”

Lan Jingyi jumped to his feet, but before he could say anything more, Lan Sizhui grabbed him by the wrist and forced him to sit down away. He had to have put some strength into it, because Lan Jingyi immediately obeyed.

“Jingyi, that’s enough,” Lan Sizhui said, rather more dryly than Jin Ling was used to from him. “If that’s how Jin zongzhu feels, then that’s how it is. I hadn’t meant to be taking the spotlight in an undue manner, and I am sorry if I gave the impression I seek attention. In the future, when working with Jin zongzhu, I’ll be sure to keep my distance to avoid bothering him so much. I thought we’d work as a good team, but…”

Lan Sizhui stood up, fists clenched tight on either side of his body.

“If Jin zongzhu really hates working with me, then of course I’ll respect his choice. Now if you don’t mind, I think I’ll go to bed now. I’ve had a pretty long day.”

He turned away and left the room, leaving behind him a suddenly heavy atmosphere. None of the juniors spoke for a good while, most of them staring at the door through which Lan Sizhui had left. Jin Ling in particular was flabbergasted, scrambling to understand what exactly had just happened there.

At his end of the table, Wei Wuxian snickered as he poured himself more wine.

“You really get your people’s skills from your uncle,” he said, not quite looking at Jin Ling, but quite obviously directed at him nonetheless. “And not the right one for that, might I add. That’s something for you to work on, I’d think.”

“I’m not hearing that from you!” Jin Ling complained. “You’re a weirdo who makes everyone uncomfortable!”

“And yet I caught myself a husband,” Wei Wuxian retorted, wiggling his eyebrows in a manner that should have been illegal around impressionable young people. “Clearly I can’t be so bad at dealing with people. I can give you some lessons, if you’d like? Could teach out to flirt even. Hanguang-Jun thinks I’m very good at it.”

All the juniors shivered in fear at the idea of flirting lessons from Wei Wuxian. Even Lan Jingyi threw Jin Ling a sympathetic glance, before remembering he had randomly decided to be furious at his friend and glaring at him.

“Who… who’d want lessons from you about anything?” Jin Ling exclaimed. Then, because he tried to be fair, he added: “Unless it’s about Night Hunting. You’re good at that, when you stop acting all goofy. But for everything else, you’re too weird! If Hanguang-Jun didn’t have such weird tastes to begin with…”

The Lan juniors exploded at the implication their personal hero Lan Wangji was anything less than perfect in all aspects.

“Watch it, Jin zongzhu!”

“Hanguang-Jun’s tastes are excellent for almost everything!”

“It wasn’t enough to be mean to Sizhui, now you have to also go after Hanguang-Jun?”

That last one puzzled Jin Ling, who blinked numbly, trying to understand at what point, exactly, he’d been mean to Lan Sizhui. Before he could ask about that, Wei Wuxian started cackling and thanked all the juniors present for approving of his marriage. This backfired when it turned out that the boys were, in fact, very supportive of the union, and had drunk just enough to not feel ashamed about it. Wei Wuxian, always so quick to tease others with great declarations of affection at a bad moment, completely collapsed under that unexpected wave of affection, which pushed the Lan juniors to be even more demonstrative, until everyone’s attention was on Wei Wuxian.

Jin Ling took his chance and left the table without being noticed, suddenly needing some fresh air. He couldn’t go very far, in case others started to worry, but he still left the inn and started walking up and down the street where it stood, trying to put some order in his thoughts.

He didn’t think that he had been rude to Lan Sizhui, of course. Or at least, he had certainly not intended to be. But between intentions and results there could be a world of difference, and it was true that Jin Ling was sometimes… he tried hard, he really did. He wanted to be as smooth as Jin Guangyao had been (though with less secrets), and he wanted to be as respected as Jiang Cheng was (though preferably without needing to resort on inspiring fear quite as much). But he had a tendency to sometimes say the wrong thing.

More than sometimes.

Things would be quite clear in his mind, and then he opened his mouth and said something that pissed off everyone. It didn’t usually matter too much, because he was Lanling Jin’s sect leader, meaning he had enough money and power that people wouldn’t dare get angry at him too openly. But it had always been more of a problem when it came to his personal life. He’d gotten in many fights with his various cousins over the years because they deemed him rude and proud.

With juniors of other sects, he didn’t really get along all that well either, for the same reason, not until everything that happened in Yi city the year before… and even that had more to do with the people he’d met than with any personal improvement. Ouyang Zizhen was just the sort of person who got along with everyone, even with spoiled brats like Jin Ling. Lan Jingyi was an awful little pest, but he hadn’t been scared by Jin Ling’s status in the least, so they’d quickly found a way to co-exist, even if most people didn’t realise they’d become good friends. And as for Lan Sizhui… well, he was the most perfect person in the world, patient in spite of Jin Ling’s temper, kind to everyone, always striving to bring peace around him, always willing to see the best in others.

Jin Ling stumbled, and nearly fell face first into the dirt of the street.

Lan Sizhui had really looked upset when he’d left, so Jin Ling really must have said something wrong. The most perfect, most patient person in the world, and Jin Ling had managed to make him angry. That really wasn’t a good way to start courting someone.

And he wanted to court Lan Sizhui. Seeing him again after a few months had only made it clear to Jin Ling that this wasn’t just a crush, it was love. He was in love with Lan Sizhui, and determined to make him fall in love back… somehow.

What he needed was… what he needed…

Somewhere behind him, the inn’s door cracked open, just enough for Wei Wuxian to peek outside.

“Jin Ling, it’s getting late!” he shouted, uncaring that he might wake up the whole street. “Everyone’s going to bed and you should as well.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Don’t make me come get you,” Wei Wuxian warned. “Come, you’ll feel better in the morning. Just apologise to Sizhui at breakfast and he won’t hold it against you, he’s a good boy like that.”

Mortified at the idea that Wei Wuxian might try to drag him to bed like a petulant child, Jin Ling made his way back to the inn. He was annoyed though. He’d been on the verge of a great idea when Wei Wuxian had called for him, and now he’d lost it. Hopefully, he’d remember later.

Right then, he just went to sleep as ordered.

In the morning Jin Ling apologised to Lan Sizhui, though he still wasn’t sure what he’d said wrong, and Lan Sizhui apologised back for reacting so strongly to a little bit of criticism. Jin Ling hadn’t dared to say he hadn’t meant to criticise, because then he’d have had to explain he was trying to compliment Lan Sizhui, and everyone was there watching them, and it would have been too embarrassing.

The Lan then left to head back to Gusu, while Jin Ling had to return to Lanling to write a report on this situation they had solved.

The whole time he flew towards home, he couldn’t help but wondered if he hadn’t somehow managed to ruin his entire love life at the ripe age of fifteen, just because his mouth and his brain couldn’t get along.

#zhuiling #lingzhui #jin ling #lan sizhui #xisang #though it won't be there until next chapter actually oops?#mdzs #jau writes #operation woo a lan #yeah this was my other big bang fic and i figured i might as well start posting that too #there's also one with nhs and xue yang but that one doesn't even have a presentable first chapter yet so it must wait a bit

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kylorengarbagedump · 3 years

Text

Defy Your Authority: Chapter 4

Read on AO3. Part 3 here. Part 5 here.

Summary: David Rose voice: Oh, my god!

Words: 3200

Warnings: dude

Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N: First: Thank you to @bastila-ren and @elmidol for their beta-kindness.

I'M ALIVE. I got super burned out at my job, took 5 weeks of FMLA, got incredibly depressed, but now I'm back! Very thankfully, my COVID symptoms were extremely mild. Thank you very very much for your well-wishes and your concerns.

I wish I could express enough apology for my lack of activity, but hopefully uploading a chapter is thanks enough. You all have been so supportive and kind to me. I am SO thankful and appreciative of everything y'all offer me!

(as a side note: I know some people do not like dude, that it throws them out. I am very sorry, but in the politest way possible: I am not going to stop using it. I like it too much.)

I also hope you enjoyed the chapter! God I wonder what's going to happen next chapter. I just don't know.

Love you all so much <3

“Piece of shit.”

Growling, you tugged out another panel from the silencer’s dash. At this point, about a dozen slats of buttons boxed you into the pilot’s seat, crowding you in the cockpit. All of them looked flawless upon inspection, and this new one was no exception. Wires were attached and the circuits were complete, every switch was grounded. You’d gone over a handful of systems already, trapped in this cockpit for hours. The silencer’s refusal to function made no sense. There had to be something you were missing.

The memory of smoke and flames licked at the perimeter of your mind. Yeah, there was a lot you were missing.

Pain burrowed, opened a well in your chest, and you shook your head, rubbing your tired face. There wasn’t time to think about anything else. Sitting forward, you started reattaching the panels to the console. You needed to focus on this. Even though the answer to where you’d go and what you would do once you were finished remained nebulous. Even though you were now apparently unknown and unloved by almost everyone in the universe, including the one man you’d waited on for months.

You caught a sigh in your chest, exhaling into your palms, shutting out the urge to cry. Crying right now was a waste of time. You still had about fifty systems to check, and you’d only read through about half of Kylo’s post-flight novella. Swallowing, you grabbed your datapad from the seat and flipped to the report, forcing yourself through the urge to skim.

It wasn’t like you weren’t interested. Normally this sort of thing was like a buffet for your freakish little brain. But you kept tasting embers on your tongue. Kept seeing your crew--completely unarmed, helpless fuel outpost workers--drowning in destruction. Kept hearing Hux’s voice: Multiple Resistance fighters… Heat gripped your neck, clogged your throat. Multiple fighters for a tiny station. Multiple fighters against three soft, fleshy bodies.

The First Order was not your creed; just your employer. The machine of war had always been an inconvenience to the prestige of working on elite starfighters. You knew that the loss of three cogs was nothing to that machine. In the past, it’d been nothing to you too. But you’d never eaten meals or laughed with or supported those lost cogs when they’d cried. This loss wasn’t just to war. This loss was horrifically and uniquely yours.

“Stop.” You shook your head, tossing your datapad back on the seat. You’d finish putting the console back together, then you’d figure out what to do next.

Jaw tight, you grabbed another panel, and your grip slipped. The sharp edge sliced your palm where the wood had lanced you earlier.

“Fuck!” You dropped it and clutched your hand, seething while you tried to squeeze away the agony. Everything from your fingers to your wrist throbbed, and your chin quaked, tears burning your sight. “Fuck! Fuck!” Snarling, you kicked the panels at your feet. “Fuck!”

The thin cut felt like a sobbing gash. You tore off your jacket and wrapped the sleeve around your palm, wincing when you tightened it to the wound.

“Stupid fucking panels!” you growled, kicking the panels again. “Stupid fucking ship, stupid fucking Kylo, stupid fucking Resistance!” The final kick dented a panel, popped off a shiny button. “Gods!”

You covered your face in your jacket and screamed until your throat crackled, until your lungs were dry. Head spinning, you drew in a breath and screamed again, stomping the floor until dizziness dropped you into the pilot’s chair. Warmth glowed at your cheeks, leaked down your back. Tremors rippled to your toes as you took in a long, steadying breath, exhaling in reluctant relief.

You considered sitting there forever. But it only took two seconds for you to remember how Kylo also sat in this chair thinking of and dealing with everything that wasn’t you before you grunted and climbed out of the cockpit.

The rest of the hangar seemed wholly unconcerned or otherwise ignorant to your tantrum. Wiping your eyes, you hopped to the ground, wagging off the lingering fury in your limbs. Maybe you just needed a walk. You cleared your throat and kept your hand clutched to your chest, the whispering ache pulsing in rhythm with your heart.

In all the hours you’d been in the cockpit, the Steadfast had continued to orbit Orinda. Xi-class shuttles whirled beyond the hangar entrance--probably staffed with crew collecting reconnaissance from whatever the Resistance left behind from the attack. Your feet carried you to the fuzzy blue edge of the magnetic shield’s barrier, meters from vacant space. A quiet hum resonated from its perimeter through your soles.

You gazed into the galaxy. Orinda was a glimmering grain of sand, adrift in the celestial trenches. A fuel outpost turned graveyard. An acceptable casualty of the Resistance. Another home where you couldn’t return. That whispering ache rumbled to a hiss and cast itself over your skin, raking it over with misery, with exhaustion. Your chin quivered. The only place you could think to sleep was the silencer. Eyes falling to the floor, you turned back to the hangar.

“My quarters.”

You squealed and jumped, clapping your hands to your chest. Feet away stood Kylo Ren.

“Shit!” you said, exhaling in relief. “How the hell do you do that?” When he said nothing, you continued, “Like, sneak up on me like that.”

“You’re not perceptive.”

You frowned. “Okay, well…” He wasn’t wrong. You sighed, shrugged. “Anyway.”

Kylo stepped forward, assessing you in your tank top, scrutinizing the tourniquet you’d made of your jacket. “Your hand.”

“It’s fine,” you said, holding it behind your back. “Your quarters?”

His stare lingered on your exposed shoulders, on your neck. “Stay,” he said. “Until the silencer is repaired.”

“That could be as early as next cycle.”

“Given your skill, yes.”

It was difficult to look in his direction. Every worn nerve screamed for his touch. “And then what?”

“You’ll depart to another station.”

You tried to flush the pain from your voice. “So,” you said, “you want me to stay with you through, like, one cycle, and then leave.” You looked to the ceiling in faux-consideration. “Cool. I think I’ll pass.”

Kylo’s eye twitched. He moved closer, tone icy. “You have nowhere to sleep,” he said. “I…” He paused. His tongue rolled in his mouth. “You mean to tell me you prefer the silencer.”

“Well,” you replied, “I’ve never fucked the silencer. I never told the silencer how I felt about it. The silencer has never treated me like a stranger who just walked off the plains of Lothal.” You tapped your chin. “So, yeah, I prefer the silencer.”

He grit his teeth. “You’re no stranger.”

“Sure could’ve fooled me!” A couple of heads turned in your direction.

“Quiet,” he hissed. “It apparently takes very little for you to be fooled.”

“Excuse me?” you replied. “Run that by me again, Supreme Leader?”

“Now your hearing fails you.”

“This is great.” You offered a false smile. “This conversation is going really well.”

Kylo snarled, shoulders bunching with restraint. “You speak this way and then question why you’re unwelcome,” he replied. “Deaf and foolish.”

“Oh!” A frustrated laugh escaped. “Okay, then. Talk to you later, Your Excellency. I need a nap before I keep trying to fix your dumbass ship.”

Shaking your head, you folded your arms over your chest and stormed past him, anger blurring your vision. Stupid fucking asshole--

You made it three steps before a warm leather glove grabbed your shoulder, and you stalled, goosebumps shooting to your hands. Kylo spun you, your face inches from his, your breath fleeing and forgetting to return. His lips trembled, his jaw tightened, his gaze boring into you before it met the floor, seeking to stare anywhere else. The pressure of his fingers was firm, then floating. And then he swallowed, grip crushing your shoulder, his eyes finding you again.

No one else in the hangar would’ve known, looking at him. But this Kylo Ren was familiar to you.

This Kylo Ren was terrified.

“I don’t…” His voice was a feather in the air. “You are…” He averted his attention, stiffening. “You have a home.”

Your chest swelled. Water stung your eyes. “I do?”

“Yes,” he replied, utterly sincere. “But not here. Not now.”

Hairline fractures crept into your heart.

“Kylo.” Your composure cracked. All of you wanted to melt, to disintegrate into his being and know each word trapped on his tongue. There was a reason you could not find him, that he would not unfold himself to you. “Please. Why do you want me gone so badly?”

His lips parted, as if he were about to speak--and he paused. He drew in a breath through his nose. “Complications,” he replied. “Factors you do not understand.”

You stepped closer, throat tight. His breath brushed your nose. “Tell me, then.”

Kylo huffed, shifting on his feet--and his face froze. His limbs locked, muscles taut. His gaze widened, fixated on something over your shoulder. Air leaked from him, like time was slowing to a close. You blinked, looked behind you. But nothing was there.

Frowning, you cleared your throat. “Kylo?” He didn’t even acknowledge you. “You’re really just going to leave it like that?”

His pupils were pinpricks.

It wasn’t like you were heartless. You knew that he was attempting wasn’t easy. But what you were feeling wasn’t a sail on a skiff either. You didn’t just deserve more. You needed it.

“Okay,” you said, backing out of his hold. “This was nice. But I have a TIE fighter to repair. So.” He didn’t respond. Didn’t even move. “Whatever.”

You turned--Kylo’s focus flicked to you. His mouth dropped, like there were words he wanted to and couldn’t speak. Instead, he remained silent, fury simmering in his gaze while you pivoted away. You didn’t say anything either. You didn’t think you had to.

When you arrived at the silencer, you clambered into the cockpit, like it was a hole you could hide in until he disappeared. Shame, stubbornness, or surrender--you imagined one of these was responsible for why he didn’t pursue you, but you didn’t care. This ship repair would be your parting gift to him, and you could take off, probably spending the rest of your life wondering how you’d managed to fuck up your affair with the galaxy’s most ineligible bachelor.

Loose panels still swarmed the pilot’s chair. You sighed and put on your jacket, settling in and throwing your feet on the dash. Your hand thumped with irritation as you closed your eyes.

Just a couple of hours. That’s all you needed. Then you’d keep working like the foolish little--

Clank.

You yelped, flinching in your seat.

Clank.

Heart fluttering, you scanned the cockpit before realizing the noise came from outside the ship.

Clank.

It was behind you. Someone was messing with the refuel port. Or the solar lines. You couldn’t tell. Grumbling, you scrambled out of the chair and hoisted yourself up the escape. If they were fucking up this stupid ship even further--

Clankclankclank.

“Hey!” You popped your head free. “Will you...”

For a split second, you’d thought Kylo had decided to rip the solar line access open and tear into his own power supply. But then your vision focused. The man crouched over the ship was a different intimidating masked man dressed only in black. Your stomach twisted. It was the one from the Buzzard. The one who’d shoulder-checked you.

“Kuruk.”

His head whipped in your direction, the talons of his predator’s gaze gouging your chest. He pulled his hands free of the solar lines, his gloves greasy with reactant.

“Lieutenant.”

Previously you’d thought absolutely no one but Hux could spit that word with that degree of acidity. But if Hux spat it like acid, then Kuruk hocked it--dragged it up through his throat and sputtered it like necrotic phlegm.

You crawled onto the dorsal plane with the coordinated majesty of a blurrg, trying not to heave and ruin any level of authority you might have tricked him into thinking you maintained. When you’d made it to both feet, you straightened, as if you did this all the time, and moved toward him.

“What are you doing?”

“Repairing a starfighter.”

You snorted. “Really,” you replied. “Tearing out a power supply is repairing?”

Kuruk jerked his arm, wrenching free another line, spewing collector dust into the air. “Closer to repairing than sleeping in the cockpit.”

Heat rushed your spine, swathed your neck. “Yeah, well…” You examined him, watching as he cocked his head to avoid the blinders attached to his helmet. “At least I can see properly when I work on a ship.”

“Magnification’s built into the visor.”

More heat, this time crackling in your cheeks, drying your tongue. “Look,” you said, “this is my job. I don’t need amateurs screwing it up for me.”

He paused, turned his gaze on you again. “Amateurs?”

You shrugged. “In comparison, yeah, probably.”

Kuruk leaned on his heels, wiping his gloves on his jacket. “I don’t think so.”

“Uh, I do.” This man looked like a weapon. Not an engineer. “What experience do you have?”

“It’s called the Night Buzzard,” he replied. “You might be familiar with it.”

You paused, brow raising. “You…” It was impossible to restrain your laughter. But he didn’t move. “You’re kidding. Right? That’s a joke.”

Kuruk’s hands tensed.

“Dude, that ship’s the ugliest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” you replied. “Did you modify it with a boiled chokeroot?”

His head tilted. He rose to stand, so controlled he looked to be fighting gravity. “I can do more work with a boiled chokeroot than you can do with an entire Star Destroyer’s worth of resources,” he drawled. “Lieu. Tenant.”

The hair on your nape stuck straight, your pulse leapt to the ceiling. But the knowledge that Kylo was within thinking distance abated your fear.

“Might wanna get one then.” You grinned. “You’re not making much progress here without it.”

He stared, filthy fingers furling into fists--and then relaxed, the tension sloughing like reactor slime from his frame. Silent, he returned to a squat, rending more lines from their channels. For some reason, a tiny, irreverent part of you was disappointed.

No, that was a lie. You knew why you were disappointed. But this man wasn’t the one you wanted to be taunting into a wild sexual rage. Exhaling, you crossed your arms.

“It’s still my job,” you said.

“And I’ve been told that once it’s done, you’ll be gone.”

“What?” You gawked. “What the fuck? You, too? I didn’t even do anything to you!”

“Debatable.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re mad because your Master didn’t want you to disrespect an officer.”

“No.” Kuruk’s attention snapped to you. “You’re loud.”

Blood drained from your face. “I’m…”

Moments blinked in your memory like a holodrama. Like how you’d spent the entire time aboard the Buzzard thinking about Kylo slamming you against the dashboard and breaking your pussy open. How you’d mentally undressed him, verbally taunted him, physically ached for him. How you’d blazed with hatred for him and stoked it with longing. And how you’d just noted that you were desperate to wind him into a state of frenzied lust so he’d wreck you entirely.

“Oh, fuck.” You glanced at the hangar’s entrance and wondered how quickly you could hurl yourself into the vacuum of space. Speaking of hurling… “Oh, fuck.”

You couldn’t spare Kuruk another glance. With shaking hands, you fumbled your way to the ground, steadying yourself on your weakening knees. There was no way you were going to spend another minute on this ship trying to fix a starfighter while getting thought-eavesdropped by multiple men, one of whom seemed hell-bent on doing your job for you anyway.

All you needed to do was find General Hux and get him to reassign you to another station. You’d figure the rest out later when you had time to process your myriad of losses and crippling rejection. You held your breath the entire trek to the command center, only releasing when the doors opened and you spied Hux at the head of the room, briefing someone on something you didn’t care about.

Wiping your forehead, you trudged over to him. Hux’s gaze darted between you and the other officer, his brow furrowing as you approached.

“A moment,” he said to the man. “Can I help you, Lieutenant?”

Yeah, it definitely sounded worse out of Kuruk’s mouth. “Can I get a new station? I, uh, I need a new station.” The officer peered at you in horror. You coughed, standing at attention. “General. Requesting a new assignment, sir.”

Hux’s lips pursed, his eyes narrowed. “The silencer is already repaired?”

“Uh, no. No, sir, it’s not.” You stared at your shoes. “Still requesting a new assignment. I believe my work here is complete.”

A pause hung in the air. Hux observed you like you were a recently apprehended criminal. He sighed.

“Dismissed, Captain.” He waited for the man to depart before turning to you. “What do you mean, your work here is complete?”

It was hard to find the appropriate words. “I mean. Uh. Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“No.”

You groaned. “Okay.” A long breath, flooding your lungs with air. “Well. My services are no longer required. My presence is redundant. I cannot return to Orinda. I’m requesting another station.” You exhaled. “Sir.”

Hux’s pink face pinched together. “Something happened with Ren.”

Warmth flushed your neck. “Uh, no--”

“Lieutenant,” he said, like the words were thorns on his tongue, “I unfortunately believe your insight and skill may still be of use to the First Order.”

“Sir?”

“The TIE project has been approved. You may be just the person to manage it.”

You balked. “Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea--”

“No?” Sharp green eyes pierced you into silence. “I thought you might leap at the opportunity, considering how cruelly the Resistance slaughtered your staff.”

Your heart clenched, your chest speared with pain. Better TIE units wouldn’t save them. But you could at least ensure their loss wouldn’t be in vain. Though you’d never supervised an undertaking of that scale before, the excitement of a challenge glittered in the distance. Glittered, then dimmed under a brooding, Kylo Ren-shaped shadow.

“Well…”

Hux glanced away, gazing through the thick panes of transparisteel, as if offering you any more praise would blind him. “Go to the Supreme Leader. Inform him of my plans.” He offered a slight shrug. “If he disagrees, then so be it. We’ll find you a new station.” The thought was left unfinished--he seemed very confident Kylo would not disagree.

Too bad you disagreed with him. “Yes, sir,” you replied. “I understand. Where might I find the Supreme Leader?”

Hux frowned. “Am I his keeper, Lieutenant?”

A brief, blissful image of your fist connecting with his chin flashed through your mind. You shook it away.

“No,” you said. “No, sir. I’ll find him. Thank you.”

He nodded. “Dismissed.”

Shooting him a glare, you pivoted on your heel, marching out of the command center. All you needed to do was find where Kylo Ren might be by searching the entirety of this huge Star Destroyer. That would be easy.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren #defy your authority #fya2 #fanfiction problems #GOLLY-GEE WILLIKERS

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seijojoh · 4 years

Text

You Should Be More Careful | T. Amajiki

Pairing: vil!Tamaki x fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you are saved by the indigo haired villain by some lowlife. What was supposed to be an innocent rescue turns out to be something more.

Warnings: NSFW towards the end, yandere themes, cursing, reader gets hurt, slight gore. WC: 1.1k A/N: This was a little something I whipped up for a friend from discord. I had a lot of fun writing this and Tamaki could seriously like, get it <3

How did you get yourself into this situation again? It was supposed to be a quick trip, really. Order over the phone to your favorite take out spot, walk the short five minute walk it took to get there, pick up your food and head back. Simple, right? Right - so why the fuck were you being cornered by this below average villain who was claiming to make his name known to the world in the nastiest alleyway possible?

Also your perfectly good food had been spilled onto the dirty concrete next to your feet.

“A shame to hurt such a beauty like yourself, but don’t worry. I’ll try to go easy on you, babe.” You know you should have had a better reaction. Pushed him away, screamed for help, reached into your pocket for the pepper spray you always carry with you in times of danger, but your mind could not process the means of protecting yourself when it was in an insane amount of pain.

Your body was hot, on fucking fire; not literally, but it was close enough. You suddenly began to sweat, your mouth open to suck in any cold air down your lungs just to ease the pain. What the heck? Is this his quirk? Some stupid thing that allows him to burn up his victims? There was no time to think before you fell down on all fours, your hands and knees feeling like jello as you attempted to gain control over yourself.

“I understand things must be getting hot for you, huh?” He spoke, but you didn’t hear. “What a fickle thing. This heat your feeling is from my quirk called Mind Melt. Your brain is quite literally melting from the inside the longer I am close to you. Just gotta get a good stare into your eyes for a few seconds and you’re done for. Cells begin to die, nerve conduction slows, and altogether you will stop functioning altogether. Sorry, again toots. If I could make this as painless as possible, I would,” he sighed, squatting down near your hunched over form to deliver a head pat. You were sure he could feel the intense levels of heat emanating from your skull.

“S-Stop,” you whimpered weakly, coughing up the bile and blood that surged out of your panicking body. “P-Ple...Please!”

“No can do, babes. I am gonna show these heros exactly who I am. They’ll know to fear Hot Shot! And-!” The villain didn’t even get to finish his statement before he was sent flying all the way down the alley by a very large… tentacle?

With the added distance, the heat stopped just as fast as it came on. “Oh shit,” you breathed out softly, lifting the sleeve of your arm to wipe away the drool that pooled out of your mouth.

“What the fuck?! Who the he-” you could hear Hot Shot scream from wherever he was flung to but he was cut off again by a gruelling smash, and then silence. With an unsteady head, you looked over at the noise, finding a third party standing over the villain who attacked you, foot directly pressing into his face. “Imagine being that fucking desperate that you attack an unsuspecting civilian,” the third voice chuckled, hardly budging as the man underneath him struggled to break free.

“You want to make it big out there as a villain, you’re going to have to try a lot harder than that,” he chuckled. From where you were placed, you could see the same foot the man used transform into… what is that? A chicken foot? Before you could confirm or deny, two of the sharp talons sunk into the villain’s eyes, pulling a scream out of him.

That seemed to wake you up from whatever trance you were doing. You gasped softly and shifted further away from the two, but with your body still in shock, it was unlikely you were going anywhere. Too panicked to get away from the scene, you didn’t notice when the screams stopped and the heavy footsteps started making their way towards your crawling form.

You gasped when a large and warm hand rested on your back, while the other gripped your chin to turn your head to face him. “Tsk, look at the mess he left,” you stared at the stranger whose laxed eyes bored directly into you. It was enough to make you freeze in your spot, horror shooting down your spine as you couldn’t find the means to move at all. “What a shame too, looks like he got you pretty good.”

His face was suddenly closer to yours, his indigo hair brushing against your cheeks. If you could cower away from his touch, you would. However, you sat there helpless, too weak to do anything but whimper out of fear that you would meet the same fate as Hot Shot. “Awe, don’t be scared, bunny. I’m not an asshole who’ll hurt you. No, no. I don’t do that to good ones like you,” he hummed softly, grip tightening on your jawline softly to turn your head to both sides, inspecting you for further damage.

“A-Are you gonna let me go?” It was a stupid question. A stupid question that shouldn’t have been asked. You could see with his growing smirk and his head cocking to the side that he found enjoyment in such an innocent, desperate question

“You would like that, huh?” He chuckled, bringing his thumb and pointer finger up to squeeze your cheeks, effectively puckering your lips outwards. “I could, but what if someone else comes by and hurts you on your way home? There’s no guarantee that I’ll come to your aid,” his gaze was trained over your lips, lifting the hand from your back to bring his thumb against your bottom lip. “Plus, such an innocent bunny like yourself is so badly hurt. You can hardly hold your own weight.”

It’s true. With this much shock your body was undergoing, it was beginning to shut down. Your vision was slowly becoming hazy, breathing much more ragged and your body felt uncomfortably warm still - an aftermath from the quirk used on you. A small whimper left your lips when he pressed his thumb further into your bottom lip, the tip of it just barely entering your parted lips.

Slowly, as if not to scare you any more, he moved his head closer so that his forehead lightly rested upon yours. All you could stare at was him and he fucking loved it. Special bunnies like you should only look at the ones who will promise to take care of them, look at them for aid when something is not right. And he wanted it to remain that way. Forever.

“I’m gonna take extra good care of you, my little bunny~”

#tamaki amajiki #bnha tamaki #mha tamaki #tamaki x reader #tamaki x you #tamaki x y/n #vil! tamaki #villain tamaki #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki imagines #tamaki scenarios #tamaki amajiki smut #tamaki smut #tamaki scenario #my hero x reader #my hero academia smut #my hero academia tamaki

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chayacat · 3 years

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (42)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

Ah... that expression of shock on your face, that lack of reaction... Or at least that frail voice that is yours. Danny couldn't have dreamed of a better reaction from you. We would think we were in a movie, where the girl discovers a terrible secret about her boyfriend. This is actually the case, with one exception: We are not in a movie. Danny watched you, his sneaky smile on his lips, like a cat watching the little mouse in his cage, the lion watching the gazelle, or the wolf devouring the poor little doe that will soon serve as his meal. He was slowly moving towards you, but you backed up against the wall, causing him to stop.

“Surprise, Honey. Happy to see me?” He said with a provocative smile.

“J-Jed? No... I don't believe it. It's a nightmare... or a prank! You can't...” you start to say.

“Can’t what? Being the one who since all this time harasses you every night making you doubt about your loyalty to your boyfriend? I can tell you my sweet little star, that all this is real. But... let's redo the presentations. Jed... never existed. My real name is Danny, Danny Johnson, to serve you.”

“You've been lying to me all this time... But why??”

“Think twice Sherlock. I am... quite wanted in other states. I wasn't going to swing my true identity, to a complete stranger I had just met. And then... there was a good chance... that you have heard of me. But luckily for me... that was not the case.”

“Your office...”

“Want to take a look? since the time you wish to enter it, now that you know the truth, I can show you. Follow me.”

Danny walked past you, while looking behind him to see if you were following him. He unlocked the door of his office and opened it so that you could finally enter it. He saw this expression of surprise on your face again, and this temporary absence of voice made him shudder. Everything went as he had imagined. It remains more than to know how all this would end.

“It's you who... who did all these murders... these innocent people... McKellan and... Hoggins.” You said finally.

“Nice deduction Sherlock. This is me. All those nights when I was inventing an excuse to go out... it was only for that. Spying, stalking... and kill.” Respond Danny leaning against the door.

“And also, to see me as Ghostface. You... you tried... you tried to rape me... and you pretended nothing had happened the next day.”

“And I apologize for that. But I had to... play my role. You would have suspected me too soon otherwise. I had to dissuade you from Jed. Let you accept me as I am. More confident, more... Enterprising then Jed." Replied Danny.

“From the beginning you lied to me. On everything. Your identity, your past, your work... I'm sure this story about this Carla is not real! You invented it or stole it from someone!” you said a little angry.

“Everything I told you about my past... is true. My parents were real assholes. Treating me like a dog. And as for my life with Carla... everything is true. Except one thing: When I learned that Dr. Pheels, the one who cared for her, had let her die, I went to see him one night. I entered through the window. He was in his office. I confronted him with his actions and he... he has denied everything. *You won't be able to prove anything Johnson. No one will believe you, you're wasting your time, Johnson. You'd better leave and find yourself another jug to fill your nights. And if she's sick... think of me. You can touch a small part. * At that time... I took out a knife that I had taken from home... and I slaughtered him like never before. My first murder, the one that made me who I am today. This is where Jed Olsen was born as well.”

“And I would still be there. You won't get rid of me as easily. I've told you before: I'm a part of you now.” said Jed in Danny’s mind.

“That night. You could have killed me. You could have made me yet another victim of your massacres. And yet you left me alive, you played with me, you... persuaded me to kill Hoggins. At least to let you kill him. Why? Why didn't you kill me that night?” you ask calmly.

It's true. He could have killed you that night. It would have made you just another victim and move on after hiding your corpse somewhere. He could have done it so many times... But he didn't. On the contrary, he lets you live, he spends time with you, shares his life and his past as you did with him. By curiosity? that's what he's always said to himself so far... but in the end isn't it for another reason? Isn't it more because he has found, or at least he thinks he has found something he thought was lost forever? And that he wanted to protect at all costs?

“Lying to her won't do much good here Danny. We both know that. Be honest with her. Like she was with you. And be honest with yourself. Believe me.” said Jed in Danny’s mind, leaning in front of him.

“I could have. At first, I confess that I did it out of curiosity, to see how far you could amuse me and I would have killed you as soon as you bore me. But... you were... so innocent. But just as fierce. Like Carla. She was like you, dreams full of heads, with punchlines when it was necessary. And a heart of gold, always ready to help people and do good around her. And the more time I spent with you, the more I felt like I was reliving my life before.” responds Danny sincerely to you.

“Good choice. It's a bit late, but better late than never.” replied Jed smiling.

“Now, that's the question everyone is asking. You know everything. What are you going to do?” Asks Danny to you.

Danny looked you straight in the eye, his smile having sag to make way for a more serious face. He had his knife in hand, ready to use it if you ever try to play the heroes or warn the police. He would like to not do that, but his secret has to come first. Even if it means killing you. He doesn't want to, but he won't have a choice. He no longer has a choice, and neither do you. You could have stopped before, avoided this relationship. It would have been easier for him. But here... it will be the first time for him that he will have to kill someone reluctantly. There is no turning back now. For both of you. This is where everything will play out.

Deep in his mind... Danny knows how it's going to end. There is no chance that you will accept all this. Even if you have shown flaws, he knows that you will denounce him, or try to stop him. If that really happens, so be it. But he can't help but hope. What a stupid spirit of humanity. And yet, what was not his surprise, when he saw you approaching him hugging him. For a few minutes, he waited for you to take out a knife or a weapon of some kind to attack him. But nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just... a normal hug. As if none of this had happened. Nothing had been said.

“Well... I... I didn't expect that. Unless this is a ruse on your part.” said Danny suspicious.

“What good would it be now that I try anything against you? You said it: if you fall, I will fall too. And... you may be an assassin... you've always been there when I needed... you listened to me, you protected me. You could have killed me a long time ago... and you didn't. And all those moments we spent together... I could never forget them. Never.” You respond without letting him go.

“Me neither.”

“I guess you've made it. You have succeeded in making me your accomplice. That's what you wanted. You wanted me to enter your world.”

“It won't be easy... but I would teach you to get ready for this new life. Lie... Keep one's mouth shut... Trick... As long as you are with me, nothing will happen to you.”

Danny gently took your face with his gloved hand before placing a quick kiss on your lips. But before he can back off, you kiss him passionately, hugging him a little more. He is not a doctor, or even a psychologist, but he could easily conclude that he caused you to have Stockholm syndrome. Or at least something close to it. However, he will have to be careful in the early days. He doesn't know if all this is real... or if you cheat. It's in Danny's mentality, he was betrayed too often in his youth, he will not let himself be fooled so easily.

“We're going to have to put ... two three little things to the point. First, outside of these walls, and when someone comes here, I'm Jed. no one should know my true identity. Not even Mattew and Melina.” starts Danny.

“It's horrible... to have to lie to them. They're friends, I'm sure they would understand.” you respond.

“They will especially warn the cops. At least after researching me. Journalistic curiosity, honey, can wreak a lot of havoc. Especially at the level of the closest people. Second, if the police come to ask you about Hoggins, you say you don't know anything. You tell them that the last time you saw him was when he threatened you in your café. Your employees will be able to confirm this.”

“Because I have to use them as an excuse now?” you replied.

“Everyone around you can serve as an alibi. I've done it often... very often during all these years.” responds Danny shrugging his shoulders.

“Anything else to know?”

“Even if you know about my office, I'd appreciate not seeing you inside. Everyone has their own business. Was I clear enough?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. So, how was your day?” Danny asks as if nothing had happened.

“As usual... I had two calls. For the succession, it is settled. And my aunt can't wait to meet you one of these days. But other than that, nothing very extraordinary. I'm exhausted.” you respond sighing.

“I know exactly what you need to... relax.”

Danny slowly lowered his hands until he reached your ass, putting a small slap. You jump slightly before looking at him, biting your lips slightly. A smirk comes to his face, provoking you just with the look. His piercing blue eyes, the secret of his charm. And it is in a fiery kiss that you both direct in the room, undressing each other before finding yourself on the bed, completely naked. The kiss continued, more sensual, and Danny finally entered you, making you moan with pleasure. He waited for you to relax before he began to move, and every move caused the two of you an insatiable pleasure.

No need to hide, no need to live under Jed's identity, no need to be Ghostface to satisfy his fantasies. Now that you know everything, now that you know who he is, he can finally be himself. He will continue to "play" Jed outside his walls because it is not necessary to arouse the suspicions of either office colleagues or the police. And even less of Wilhelm. This guy is a real leech.

Now with you he can finally be himself. You are the sweet little star of the devil. And no one will be able to approach you. In every sense of the word... the beast has been released. And nothing can stop it.

Not even himself.

***

(And it's done! This chapter was quite quick to write because since it is the continuation of the previous chapter, the ideas came to me quite quickly. Well, it's true that almost the entire chapter is mostly dialogue between Danny and the reader, but really, I didn't see how I could write it other than that. I don't forget the fic RE8 and the little teasing I talked about! By the way, if at the moment you do not know what to play, whether on Switch or PC, I recommend Road 96, a real surprise that I love! I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all! See ya!)

#dead by daylight #dbd #dbd fanfic #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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notquitetwilight · 3 years

Text

THE CULLANOS: A TASTE OF BOSTON, PART TWO

The Cullanos continue taking care of business in Boston. Warning: this story contains graphic violence and sexual references (no smut, just truly cursed references). Previous instalment

Esme breathed shakily as she walked hand-in-hand with her husband past brownstone after brownstone. The street was deserted; it was just the two of them and the parked cars that lined their path. Her thoughts seemed to scream louder in the silence as she mentally willed that the daughter they left behind would be safe.

“S’like Brooklyn down here,” Carlisle said absentmindedly, keeping his voice low. When she didn’t answer, he looked at her, suddenly noticing her unease. “What’s the matta, baby?”

“I think…” she trailed off, unsure. She wasn’t used to being nervous. But she couldn’t shake the image of Rosalie’s wide eyes right before she had left her in the car. They were the same shade of blue as Carlisle’s, the type that seemed cold and piercing when narrowed, but inviting enough to swim in when widened. Though she’d never have admitted it, Esme knew she was afraid. And that made her afraid.

“I’m not sure we should’ve brought her.”

He frowned. “Rosie?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, our other child we were recently reunited with. Who else?”

“She wanted to come,” he said, raising a shoulder.

“So? If she said she wanted to do crack, would you let her?”

“Depends on whether or not she’d share,” he grinned.

“Carl, I’m serious,” she said, her voice cracking a little, which surprised both of them.

He squeezed her hand. “She’s a smart girl, Ezzie. She knows the drill.”

“Still, if somethin’ goes wrong—“

“It won’t.”

“If it does, I don’t…” she stopped in her tracks, feeling like she couldn’t take in air as quickly as her body needed her to. She closed her eyes as she tried to level her breathing. “If somethin’ were to happen to her, I don’t know what I’d do. I’d never forgive myself. Or you.”

She opened her eyes to find him looking a little wounded. “I thought this was what you wanted. Her here, with us.”

“It is,” she said, starting to walk again. “But all this is also why we gave her up in the first place, right?”

He groaned quietly. “Not this again.”

That infuriated her. She let go of his hand and made a great effort to keep the volume of her voice low in her response. “I’m sorry, is my fear for our daughter’s safety inconveniencin’ you?”

“I can’t keep doin’ this,” he said with a sigh. “Over and over, I keep tryin’ to make you happy, and over and over, I feel like I’m failin’. Because I don’t know what you want. Because you don’t know what you want.” He spoke so calmly, so matter-of-factly, without a hint of malice. She balked at him.

“What?” was all she managed.

“You want me, but you don’t want me. So I try move on. Twice. When ya do want me, I’m there in a heartbeat. You want our daughter, but you don’t want our daughter, so I give up my chance to be a dad to her. But then you do want her, but only from a distance, so we torture ourselves watchin’ other people raise her. Then you want her, fully want her, so I bring her back to us, and ever since I did you’ve been sayin’ maybe we shoulda left her as she was. I don’t know what else to do. I feel like I can’t make you happy no matta what. Maybe you were right, all those times ya said family life wasn’t for you. Ya seem a lot less happy since we became one.”

She gritted her teeth and glared up at him, ready to risk their cover in screaming at him. Yet her anger dissolved immediately upon seeing his face. He looked…sad. Truly, hopelessly sad, the type that usually only came with grief. Only she was allowed to see him this vulnerable, and only she had seen him wear this same expression just twice before: the day of his mother’s funeral, and the day they gave Rose up.

She had never considered how all of it might have looked to him, how what she said or did could be misinterpreted. She just assumed he knew where her head was at, because she always knew where his was at. But it suddenly occurred to her that she knew everything he thought because he spoke everything he thought to her. He knew her well, better than anyone else did, but he wasn’t a mind-reader. And while she believed herself to be a relatively good communicator, she knew she was nowhere near as good as him.

“There it is,” he muttered, interrupting her thoughts. He came to a halt and nodded to the dark grey brownstone a little ahead of them, the last on the street.

She frowned. “That’s...their house?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s attached to other buildin’s,” she said flatly.

“Guess that’s what silencers are for.”

He started for the Ivanov residence while rooting in one of his pockets, but she pulled at his arm. “Carl.”

He let her grip lead him to face her, but he looked at his feet, kicking the ground.

“Look at me,” she said softly. His head stayed down and his forehead remained creased.

“Baby?” she tried. He raised his head to meet her eyes then, and she couldn’t help but smile with relief. He was usually the one for terms of endearment, so the rare times she used them, she got his full attention.

“I’m not...less happy,” she started, unsure of how to explain herself.

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“I am sure! Give me a chance. I’m much more happy, one hundred per cent. But I’m also much more worried. And maybe that’s what looks bad. Maybe I’m not handlin’ it right, I dunno. But I’m not used to bein’ worried. I’m not used to bein’...scared. And I am, Carl. For the first time in my life, I’m fuckin’ terrified. Almost 24/7.”

The line between his eyebrows deepened. “I don’t get it,” he shook his head the slightest bit. “Why? You’ve never been the anxious type.”

“That’s what I’m tryin’ to say,” she gripped onto his forearms and gently shook them. “I’ve never been scared because I only had myself to worry about. And I didn’t care what happened to me, or what kinda shit I got myself into. The money and the good time was worth it. Everything was carefree and I didn’t wanna be tied down. But it got to the point where I wasn’t...happy anymore. I think that’s where the Charles thing came from. You got married for the first time and I hated it. And it was my own fault, because I said no to you, but it was only when I saw what you had without me that I realised I wanted that, too. So I married that asshole and then that went to shit. Had me kinda believin’ I wasn’t meant to have that family life. And then it was back to square one; you askin’ me to marry you, me sayin’ no, you gettin’ married to someone else and me hatin’ it again.

“But I just continued doin’ what I wanted, not carin’, until that day she walked in on us in the kitchen. I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone the way I hated her that day. It was like, all of a sudden I realised that even though you were mine, you were officially hers on paper. She was the wife, I was the goomar. And I fuckin’ hated it and I fuckin’ hated her and I wanted it to just be fuckin’ done with already. And then she was dead and you were askin’ me to marry you again and it felt so right to finally fuckin’ say yes. And I think I started to feel a little bit like the stakes were higher after we made it official, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it is now. Not as bad as it’s been since Rosie came. We worked so hard for her to trust us, for her to want to stay with us. And now the three of us are finally together as a proper family. It might not be a ‘Brady Bunch’ scenario, but it’s us. It’s like, the last piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place, and now I’m waitin’ for it to fall apart. So you’re right, I’ve never been the anxious type. But I never had anything to lose. Now I do — I have everything to lose. And I don’t know what I’d do if I lost it.”

He wiped away a tear she hadn’t noticed rolling down her cheek and pulled her into him. She gasped for breath after rambling for so long. “Why didn’t you say?” he mumbled against her hairline, then kissed the top of her forehead.

“I dunno. Maybe I thought you knew already. Or maybe I didn’t wanna sound stupid.” She sighed and fully leaned into him, her cheek against his chest. This way, she was facing the Ivanov house, and it registered with her that there was the tiniest sliver of light visible through a gap in one window’s heavy curtains.

“That doesn’t sound stupid at all,” he stroked the back of her head. “It’s a relief, actually. I thought maybe you were gettin’ bored of it all. Of us.”

“Never,” she said, tearing her eyes away from the house so she could lift her head to look at him. “You’re my person, forever.”

“And she’s our person, that we made,” he smiled. “Isn’t that fuckin’ crazy, when ya think about it?”

“But isn’t that— doesn’t that make you scared? I’ve seen how much you adore her. Why aren’t you worried, like me?”

“I just...trust in my gut. And my gut says none of us are dyin’ for a long, long time.”

“That’s it?” she asked without snark. She was genuinely fascinated by his complete lack of concern for their safety.

“Yeah. I have faith in us. We’re not dumb, we’re not new to this, we’re good both as individuals and as a team. And like you said, there’s more to lose now, so there’s more to fight for. Think of how unstoppable you were when you didn’t give a shit. Can you imagine anyone bein’ able to stop you now that you do?”

“Guess not,” she said, feeling a smile growing across her face. She was still worried, but she felt much better. There was a lot of sense in what he said. His words did their job in comforting her, as they often did.

“I love you,” she said, pulling at his neck to bring his face down to hers. “You always know the right thing to say.”

She kissed him then, slowly and expressively at first. But she quickly began to lose herself in it, and her fingers found themselves running through his hair. He let out a soft groan before pulling away and grinning at her.

“Later, baby. We have a job to do.” He glanced at his Rolex and his face dropped. “Shit. We’re a lil’ behind schedule. Alice’ll be waitin’.”

She nodded and pointed at the house as the two of them began walking again. “Someone’s up, too.”

He squinted at the window as they both rooted around in their pockets for their earpieces. They stopped a little short of the brownstone as they put them in.

“You ready?” he whispered, taking her hand again and bringing it to his lips to kiss it.

She nodded once more, and the two of them turned on their earpieces.

“About tiiiiiiiiiiiime,” Alice sang the second they were connected. “You’re late. By five minutes!”

“A queen is never late,” Esme said, her speaking volume lower than Carlisle’s whisper had been. “Everyone else is simply early.”

“Did Madame Mafia just quote ‘the Princess Diaries’ to me?” Alice asked with mock shock.

Carlisle tilted his head and raised his brows.

“Rose showed it to me last weekend,” Esme answered defensively. “We were...bondin’.”

He smirked and turned away from her, eyeing up the house in front of them. “Okay Alice, how’re we doin’?”

“Strangely, no guards — not on the property, anyway. That’s not like them at all. I partly wondered if they were hanging around the area and you ran into a few, because you were late, but I guess not since you’re alive and calm. As for the Ivanovs themselves, two are home: Katarina and Garrett. I have eyes everywhere except the bathrooms, so unless the rest of the family and an army of cronies are hiding in showers, this should be pretty easy.”

The words were like music to Esme’s ears. Her shoulders immediately relaxed, and she finally began to feel excited. She beamed at Carlisle, who gave her a knowing smile and mouthed “see?” in return.

“That’s what I like to hear, Al,” he said. “And you’ll be able to shut their camera system down once we’re out?”

“Of course. Once you’re out and alive, it’s gone.”

“Great. So, they’re still up?”

“Unfortunately,” Alice groaned.

“Don’t worry about us Al, that makes it more fun.”

“I wasn’t saying ‘unfortunately’ because I don’t think you can handle them. I was saying ‘unfortunately’ because over the past half hour, I’ve seen some shit. And that’s saying a lot, considering I work for you two.”

Esme and Carlisle exchanged a look, the pair of them frowning.

“What do you mean?” she asked her.

“I mean I want a raise,” Alice grumbled, causing Carlisle to break into another smile.

“Ahh...they’re in a bedroom?”

“That idea, yes. But wrong room. The living room’s where you’re heading for. Second floor. The ground floor is more like an empty hall, kinda like those malls that don’t really start ‘til you go up the escalator. There’s an elevator, but obviously that’ll make noise, so you should take the stairs.”

“That’a girl. Did you see if they’re armed?”

“As far as I can tell, no. There’s a shit tonne of guns and what appear to be Molotov cocktails in the bedrooms, so don’t give them a chance to go running. I can’t see any weapons in the living room. But I mean you guys know, the likelihood that they’ve got something concealed somewhere — either in the room or on them — is 50/50.”

“Yeah, true. Thanks. I guess that’s our cue.”

“Alrighty. Good luck! I’ll be right here in your ears the whole time.”

The pair of them readied their weapons and clinked the tip of their guns together in salute as they always did.

“Ladies first,” he smiled at her, and he let her lead the way.

Back in the car, Rosalie leaned into her headrest after checking her timer for the umpteenth time. She had set it the second the couple disappeared from view and found herself checking it every minute or so since. There was nothing else to do. She didn’t want to get distracted by her phone in case trouble was around. She couldn’t play music, because she neither wanted to attract attention nor miss anything she’d need to hear. All she could do was wait in the silence, and every second that ticked by felt like an hour.

She almost jumped out of her skin when her phone noisily vibrated on the dashboard. She grabbed it in a panic as though it was loud enough to wake the whole street, but once it was in her hand, she simply stared at it. Royce. Of course. She should’ve known her on-again off-again boyfriend would be the only person to ring her at this hour. She let it ring out, then shifted in her seat to make herself comfortable. The second she did, her phone began to vibrate again. With an eye roll, she brought it up to her ear.

She was immediately met with loud sounds that caused her to wince and pull the phone back slightly. A baseline thudded, so she knew he was out, but the sound was too distorted for her to tell if he was at a club or a party.

“Hello?” she asked, beginning to wonder whether the calls had been accidental. A muffled voice finally spoke, though it said nothing comprehensible.

“Royce, is that you? I can’t hear you,” she tried, keeping her voice low. She wasn’t going to up the volume she had maintained just because he called her from a loud place.

“ROSE!” Royce boomed from the other end of the phone, causing her to wince again. “Come...c’mere. M’over...s’funnn.”

The combination of the loud atmosphere, poor connection and slurred words made it difficult to understand.

“Royce, I don’t know what you’re saying. You know I’m not even in New York or Jersey right now, right? Remember I told you?”

“M’over...” he said again before saying something intelligible.

She was losing patience. “You’re drunk again, and I don’t know what you’re saying. I can’t talk right now, okay? I’ve gotta go.”

He started shouting incoherently. The only thing she made out before hanging up on him was the word ‘bitch’.

She inhaled deeply and checked the timer again. They’d been gone seventeen minutes and 48 seconds. Esme had said to leave after the forty minute mark. She shuddered at the idea of having to drive off without them, wondering whether or not she’d be able to do so if that’s what it came to. It was hard to imagine life beyond them now, though they’d only been connected for a little over a year. She stared out the windshield, biting the inside of her cheek, and felt her phone vibrate again.

Huffing, she thrust it up against her ear. “I said I can’t talk!” she hissed.

It was dead silent. There was none of the noise of the previous call. For a split second, she wondered if she had accidentally hung up.

“Rosalie?” asked a clear, deep voice after a beat.

She paused. “Yes?” she said in a small voice.

“Oh, it is you, thank god!” Relief flooded her as she recognised the voice as Emmett’s. “I was a lil’ confused for a second there. Thought maybe I dialled the wrong number.”

“Sorry Emmett. I— I thought you were somebody else.”

“No prahblem, no prahblem.”

“Is everything okay? If you’re calling me because you couldn’t reach the lovebirds, they’re not back yet.”

“No, no,” he said. “I just wanted to check in and say hi while the two ‘a them are gone. Y’know, just makin’ sure you’re holdin’ up okay on your first big job.”

“Thanks,” she said, a little bitterly.

He must’ve picked up on her tone, because there was another pause. “Uh, sorry to bother you.”

“I’m not pissed at you, I’m pissed at them for thinking I need to be checked up on. I told them I’d be fine.”

“Huh? Nobody asked me to. I just wanted to.”

“Oh,” she said awkwardly, but the corners of her mouth tugged up.

“Yeah. It’s just, I remember how scared I was on my first big job.”

“I’m not scared,” she insisted, back to frowning.

“No? Then you’re a braver soul than I am. I was scared shitless.”

“Really? Carlisle never said.”

“Because he doesn’t know,” Emmett laughed. She didn’t know a sound could be so warm. “I held it together pretty well. But when all was done, he dropped me off at the corner of my block, and I waited for his car to disappear before pukin’ my damn guts up all over the sidewalk.”

She was the one laughing then. She leaned her head against the window as a silence fell over them.

“Okay, maybe I am a little worried,” she said quietly. “Time seems to be dragging by. Esme told me to leave if they’re not back within forty minutes. I obviously don’t want to have to even think about doing that.”

“Of course, of course,” he said. “Honestly though, I’m sure she said it as a precaution, and they’ll be back to ya in no time. You haven’t seen your parents in action. Let’s just say I’m glad I work for them, because I’d hate to be against them.”

“Thanks,” she said again, more sincerely this time.

“And it’s okay to be scared. It’s completely normal. The people who are never scared— those are the mad bastahds you gotta watch out for. Because you gotta be batshit crazy to never know fear.”

“Carlisle’s never scared,” she smiled.

“Well, there ya go, see!” Rosalie could hear the smile in his voice, too. “Case in fuckin’ point!”

She found herself laughing again. It came so easily to her when she spoke to him.

“I better get goin’, letcha get back to it.”

“Okay,” she said. “And thanks, Emmett. I think that helped.”

“No prahblem,” he said again.

“Unless Esme and Carlisle did put you up to this, in which case, no it didn’t.”

“I swear’ta gahd, Rosie, neither of them even know. I had to get your number from Alice.”

Rosie. He had picked that up from Carlisle. It was strange how much she’d come to like a nickname she initially detested.

“‘Kay. Well, thanks again.”

“You have my number now, too,” he said, sounding suddenly serious. “I’ll be right here at the other end of the phone, anytime you need me, ahrite?”

“Does that include if in twenty-or-so minutes’ time I have to decide whether or not to leave my long-lost parents for dead?”

“You betcha.”

“Great!”

He laughed. “Take care, Rosie.”

“Bye, Emmett.”

She hung up the call and resisted the urge to check the timer just yet. A new-found calmness had come over her, and she wanted to bask in it a little while longer.

“Is she beating him to death?” Carlisle whispered up at his wife as she reached the top of the stairs to the Ivanov’s second floor. Alice had been right, they ran into no extra bodies on their way in. And though she was several states away, she had disarmed the entrance’s security with ease.

“No,” Alice answered with a sigh before Esme could. “I think that might actually have made for easier viewing.”

“Don’t be such a prude,” Carlisle quietly teased.

“I’ll have you know, this isn’t your average spank session,” Alice scolded.

“Well now I’m curious,” Esme said, straining to listen. “Is this somethin’ I’m gonna wanna take note of?”

“Ugh, knowing you, probably,” came the answer in her ear.

Esme looked back to smirk at Carlisle.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Shoulda brought a pen.”

“I’ll take mental notes,” she promised.

“And if that fails, you can use the notes my therapist will have taken after I’ve word-vomited all this to her while rocking back and forth,” Alice announced.

Carlisle took his place beside Esme at the top of the stairs and slipped an arm around her waist. The long hallway ahead of them was windowless, its red and gold-patterned wallpaper interrupted by the occasional closed door. Still, it was brightly lit by the two massive chandeliers that hung from its high ceiling. To their left was the unit for the elevator. Carlisle waved at the little CCTV camera above it, prompting a laugh from Alice. Behind them was another set of stairs that led to higher floors they wouldn’t see. The Persian carpet that stretched the length of the hall floor would come in handy to muffle their footsteps.

“Up ahead, the second door on the left is the kitchen,” Alice told them. “It’s got a pass-through and an open plan door to the living room, so be careful.”

“‘Kay,” was all Esme dared to respond as Carlisle let her go. She crept forward.

The pair of them silently edged along the wall, the voices from the living room growing louder as they got closer. Esme stopped at the kitchen door and brought her pistol up to her chest. The pair of them concentrated on the voices inside.

“Alright, swap,” Katarina said. “It’s my turn to rest.”

There were two thuds, and then her voice mingled with a man’s as both began chant-like muttering. Esme couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Carlisle tapped her on the shoulder. When she looked at him, he mouthed, “praying?” with a confused frown.

She paused to listen and confirm, then nodded. He was right, though it left her no less confused. The muttering stopped, and there was some shuffling of feet. The sounds of slapping and groaning resumed, but this time they could tell Katarina was the receiver.

She nudged him and put her gun-free hand on the door handle. With his nod of approval, she slowly pushed it down and opened the door at an acute angle.

“You’re all clear here,” Alice told her, but she gave a quick glance around it anyway to get her bearings. The kitchen was reasonably small for such a big house, and it looked as though it had been home to a frat party. Mess, clutter and countless empty bottles of Absolut Vodka littered every surface. The pass-through was a few feet ahead on her left.

Tip-toeing inside, she immediately grabbed her other gun so she had one in each hand. Both of them made their way to the side of the pass-through as Garrett was saying something about Christ. They hunkered down, then crawled under it, and shimmied out of their heavyweight coats as quietly as possible.

Esme was about to rise slightly up when Carlisle touched her arm. “Only shoot if you have to,” he mouthed slowly so she’d get every word.

The two of them rose and peeped through together. Esme had been right; Garrett was sat on a chair with Katarina bent over his legs as he repeatedly slapped her backside. Still, he mumbled about “the Lord” this and “Jesus” that. Esme looked at Carlisle quizzically.

“Feel the hand of God,” Garrett suddenly half-shouted in comparison to his previous volume. “Who has the most lovin’ hand of all, Kate?”

“God, through you,” Katarina answered him.

“What the fuck is this?” Carlisle breathed, just about audible. “It’s like watchin’ Barbie get an exorcism.”

Esme pressed her lips together to contain a laugh, mentally cursing him. With Katarina’s long blonde hair and baby pink Adidas tracksuit, he wasn’t far off the mark.

“It’s called CDD,” Alice informed. “Short for ‘Christian Domestic Discipline’. The whole religion thing stumped me too when I saw them praying, because like, they’re not even the same religion, right? She’s presumably Orthodox and he’s gotta be Catholic. Anyway, I googled ‘pray spanking’ and found that. Apparently it’s a movement that started as like, a ‘women are inferior in Christian marriages and should treat their husbands like God himself’ thing, but naturally, it got turned into a kink.”

The two of them exchanged a look again and sank back down to their hunkers. Carlisle gestured out their route around the corner of the wall they were now up against and through the open plan door. He pointed to her and made a finger gun, then pointed to himself and pulled out a rope from one of his coat pockets. She nodded once and rounded the corner with her guns raised right as Garrett’s head looked in that direction.

“Don’t move,” she warned, one pistol aimed at his head and the other aimed at Katarina’s.

They both froze, his hand mid-air. Esme stalked closer as Carlisle moved behind them.

“Off the chair,” he commanded. “And putcha hands behind your head.”

They did as they were told and knelt on the ground. Carlisle patted Garrett down and began tying him while Esme came to Katarina’s side. The blonde swallowed tightly. When Carlisle was finished with Garrett, he moved onto her.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch her,” Garrett said as he patted, making Esme smile. As if he’d be able to stop them with his hands and feet tied.

“Whadiya take me for?” Carlisle asked. “I don’t hurt women.”

“Mhmm,” Esme agreed, tracing the side of Katarina’s face with the tip of her pistol. “This one’s all mine.”

Garrett helplessly flopped in Esme’s direction from his place on the floor.

“Easy now,” Carlisle said, finishing up with Katarina and moving to crouch down beside him. “I said I wouldn’t hurt your girl, and you repay me by goin’ for mine?”

Garrett stared blankly ahead. Carlisle tilted his chin up with his gun to meet his eyes.

“It wouldn’t be the first time you double-crossed though, would it? There was our Kiev deal, then the small matter of you murderin’ your own pal. Lettin’ his kid grow up without a father. What kinda person does that, huh? Ya know, I might be a lotta things. But I know where my loyalties lie. And I’d never betray a friend. Even people like us have rules, and that’s one of ‘em.”

“You wanna talk about the loyalty of friends?” Katarina piped up, prompting Esme to hold her pistol against her head. “You might want to look closer to your own circle.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Esme asked, her eyes narrowed.

“You haven’t wondered where the others are?” Garrett smiled. “They’re actually in your neck of the woods. Meeting with some of your buddies. Ironic really, isn’t it? You come all the way here hoping to kill Tati, only for her to be in your area.”

Alice gave a “hmm” as Carlisle’s eyes flickered to meet Esme’s, then settled back on Garrett’s face. Neither of them could tell whether or not he was trying to throw them, but both understood not to let him.

“We didn’t come here to kill Tatiana,” Esme said cooly. “Any single one ‘a yous woulda done. Instead we got two. I call that a success.”

“Do you?” Katarina cooed. “I wouldn’t be that confident ‘til all of us are dead. Especially if I had a daughter who didn’t know how to shoot.”

Carlisle felt the colour drain from his face. Esme immediately yanked Katarina down by the hair until her cheek hit the floor, then placed a knee on her back.

“What the fuck does your family know about my daughter?” She growled into her ear. “Tell me everything you know and how you know it.”

“It’s hardly a secret,” Katarina said, the words muffled against yet another Persian rug. “You’ve been paradin’ her — what’s her name, Rose or something? — paradin’ her all around New York and Jersey. Don’t tell me you didn’t think people would notice?”

“I hear she’s real pretty,” Garrett added. “And you know us bunch, we like our blondes.”

With that, Carlisle began relentlessly punching him. Garrett’s groans sounded different to how they had sounded in the hallway. Here, he was getting to know much less loving hands.

Esme pulled at Katarina’s hair again. “Tell me who told you about my daughter.”

“No.”

She shifted so she could better aim for Katarina’s kneecap, then shot it. The blonde let out an agonising scream, which woke Carlisle from his blind rage just long enough to look up and spot a marble urn on the fireplace.

“Tell me who told you about my daughter.”

“Fuck you,” Katarina moaned, writhing in pain.

Carlisle got up and grabbed the urn, dumped whatever ashes were inside into the fire pit, and made his way back to Garrett.

Esme flipped Katarina over and shot her other kneecap. Another ear-piercing scream blocked out the sound of Carlisle beating Garrett with the urn.

“Tell me something. Anything about what or how you know.”

Katarina simply whimpered. Esme pressed her foot against her knee, but the scream that followed was feeble. She would soon pass out from either blood loss or pain.

“You’re not gonna tell me anything?”

Katarina barely shook her head. Esme sighed and shot her between the eyebrows.

Carlisle was sitting still and staring at Garrett when she made her way over to him. “Is he dead?”

He shrugged.

She picked up the urn from the floor and gave Garrett’s body several extra beats to be sure.

“Is now,” Alice said quietly. Neither of them laughed.

Carlisle rubbed at his temple while Esme sat back beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“They know about Rosie,” was all he said.

She nodded.

“Guess there’s no goin’ back now. Even if she wanted to, there’s no way she can go back to the life she had.”

“No,” Esme agreed.

“I get it now,” he mumbled, more to himself than to her.

“Get what?”

“I think...I’m finally worried.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Alice awkwardly cleared her throat.

“Alice, what they said about our friends—” Carlisle started.

“I won’t say anything,” she said before he could finish. They both trusted that. If Alice was a betrayer, they’d already be dead.

“Thanks.”

He closed his eyes for a few seconds before standing up. Esme didn’t like seeing him so uneasy. He was her comforter, so if he needed comforting, things weren’t good. But he did need comforting, and as his person, it was her job to do so.

“Alice, could you mute us for a while?” Esme asked as she got to her feet. “And turn off the living room camera? We need a minute.”

Alice hesitated. “Alright. But watch the time, for Rose’s sake. And I’ll mute you, but don’t mute me in case I need to warn you about unexpected visitors elsewhere in the property.”

“Thanks,” Esme said.

“Okay, I can’t see or hear you now. So if you need my attention, go to another room.”

Esme tugged Carlisle’s arm. “Help me move the bodies out of this room. I want it to be just us.”

He looked at her with confusion, but did as she asked.

Rosalie stared at the numbers on her timer. Forty-eight minutes and fifty-three seconds, and still no sign of her parents. Her free hand drummed at the steering wheel the way her fingers had before they left.

“C’mon, c’mon,” she muttered at the windshield. She felt her eyes start to well up and blinked furiously.

“Fine. An hour,” she promised aloud to no one, in attempt to settle herself. “We’ll hang on ‘til it’s been an hour.”

She glanced back at the timer, but a noise made her look up again. There the pair of them were, running towards her, open coats flapping in the wind. She exhaled with relief and started the engine. The headlights lit them up as she drove forward, giving her a full view of them. Both were covered in blood splatters.

“Thank god,” she cried as each of them swung open a door and hopped in the back.

“Hey, Princess,” Carlisle greeted her as she sped off.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Esme chirped. “Thanks for waitin’. Sorry we’re late.”

Rosalie frowned. Her tone was...strange. In the rearview mirror, she found the two of them staring at each other dreamily. Then, she registered Carlisle’s messed hair, and realised it wasn’t a tough fight that had delayed them.

“You assholes!” she seethed. “Do you have any fucking idea what ran through my mind?! I thought you were dead! I thought I was gonna get myself killed waiting around for two people who’d never come, because they were dead!”

“Sorry,” they said in unison.

“That’s it? You scare me into believing you’re dead and all I get is a simple sorry?”

“You were scared for us?” Esme sounded pleased. Rosalie rolled her eyes.

“You’re right,” Carlisle added. “That was selfish. Worry isn’t a nice feelin’. And a simple sorry isn’t all you get for it. We’ll head down Fifth Ave once we’re home if you like.”

She did like the sound of that, but she didn’t want him to think she could be easily won round. “Fine,” she said with a sigh.

“Oh and Rose?” Esme asked.

“Yeah?”

“We’re teaching you to shoot.”

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namelesswolffreak · 3 years

Text

"Boyfriends"

I've been working on this story concept for....3-4 years now and I've finally managed to work everything out to the point I'm confident in posting this little blurb of the main characters. So, I hope you enjoy and feel free to ask questions about them and their world.

Context: This takes place in a world of super powered people heavily inspired by MHA / Marvel / Miraculous. Waker (Way-kur) Atlas is Dare City's main hero who is put through quite a lot on a daily to weekly basis trying to beat the baddies and Cyrus Fauthrin is his infamous thief arch nemesis turned lover and best friend who causes trouble around the city just to get the Hero's attention.

--------------

The melancholy of the day was waning on Waker as he patrolled the quiet streets of one of Dare’s many neighborhoods which was quite unusual considering every seven seconds a villain was after his head. The sun was barely above the clouds, no one was really awake yet and the only thing that accompanied him was his footsteps as he jumped, hopped and skipped to the next platform he summoned under his feet. He happened to be bounding over Lay Wind Park, the foxes fast asleep in their dens to his disappointment, but the Hero Monuments were still a sight to behold in the early sunrise as they shone with brilliance in what little light was filtering over the surrounding hillsides.

The wind blew past his frizzed locks as he stood above the park near a tree in the shade, expression steeled and focused as he watched for signs of trouble as he waited for a certain someone to arrive. Today was uneventful and rather slow, the kind of day Waker preferred if he were being honest. Heaven knew being bored all day was ten times better than returning home to the countless kitchen sink surgeries he’d have to do with worn needles and his mother’s thread pinching into his skin as he sewed up bloodied wounds full of shrapnel and debris. Much better. The birds were chirping a happy, lazy song as they flew by on the breeze and the distant hum of an awakening city filled the natural ambiance of cicadas and crickets quite nicely as he watched and waited. He dare let out a sigh as the scene took hold of him fully, a warmth washing over him that he hadn’t felt in the recent weeks.

Which wouldn’t be for long as the rustling of tree leaves and a “Boo!” have him falling off of his platforms and hurtling towards the ground with an embarrassingly shrill scream.

“Waker!” A concerned voice follows as a blue blur dives after him.

Ground spiraling as he falls, Waker braces for impact, too late to conjure any platforms beneath him to break the fall so, he readies himself, waiting for the hurt and pain that would surely follow with some scrapes and bruises…………...But it never comes. He unscrunches his eyes and removes his arms from his head to see a blue, sparkling light surrounding him.

Irritation and embarrassment take over him immediately.

His face turns a copious amount of red as he’s carefully scooped up in pale arms that hold him close and, humiliatingly enough, in bridal style. Oh god no, he curses mentally, murmuring a soft “No…” into his shield of arms. This was so not how he wanted to show up in front of his partner after their long and grueling few weeks of not being able to see each other outside of villain fights and breaks in between their testing week.

The sudden warmth of a chest presses against his side and the delicate rhythm of a frantic heart race beneath his one hand as the other quickly grabs for his cape to hide his strawberry cheeks. There was no way in hell he was letting ‘he knew who’ see him in such a state, there was no possible way he could let the witch-like thief catch him like this. A brave hero didn’t get scared or spooked by rustling leaves and the word boo! Absolutely absurd! Though a voice in the back of his mind said he already had.

“You are such a fucking clutz, I swear.” And a huge scaredy cat, the blue-clad ravenette doesn’t say aloud, but his tone implies anyways. “I should take you to my ballet classes sometime, maybe then you’d actually learn some balance.” The comment only makes him clutch the soft fabric tighter around himself.

He’s loathing the thought of unveiling himself now, but he knows he’s been caught, his normally stoic or serious persona now broken and practically burned away as he knows his cape isn’t doing much to hide his warm face or the tenseness of his grip. Plans to forever sink himself into a hole where nobody could possibly ever find him again after this mess are shortly abandoned for now and gaining courage Waker swallows the huge lump in his throat and tries to cleverly reply. “H-hey, what’s a-....What’s up, Witch Boy?” And he knows the intended playfulness doesn’t go through as he’s met with a narrowed glare.

The other isn’t amused. “Witch boy, really? Did I actually scare you that badly that you lost a couple of brain cells?”

“Shu-shut up, Cyrus!” He defends as this “Cyrus” just sighs at him, though his stare more sly than pointed now.

“Get out of that stupid thing so I can see your face.” He says with a tremble in his voice that Waker can definitely tell is laughter, the prick. “Or I’ll totally drop you again.” And like hell he will, Waker knows, but he takes the threat seriously nonetheless and loosens his grip on the cape just enough to see the Ravenette’s brilliant and ever playful smile.

For a moment Waker just stares and admires him, those brilliant blues sparkling, no, literally sparkling as he says something Waker doesn’t catch. The sun is framing his face so perfectly in the light, highlighting those perfectly red cheeks he would love to kiss every morning, and the slight upturn of his lips as he smiles down in reverence at him, and the slow flutter of his lashes that compliment his features nicely. Though braided off to the side Cyru’s hair never fails to make him look so ethereal as the gentle morning breeze brushes back his loose strands. Waker swears it looks like its made up of space itself when he lets it go during the night time, convincing himself he can see stars within the strands when he stands beneath the moonlight. It doesn’t take much to make the hero swoon regarding his partner nowadays. Daydreams of peaceful nights alone on the couch watching movies together after his nightmares keep him awake and alert run through his mind, or the times Cyrus has saved him from getting beaten to a pulp and they spent hours talking over stitching him back together about nothing at all, and every single time Cyrus has stuck up for him at school, reminding him of the warmth this person carries with them and all the love and affection he’s constantly showered in when they’re together. It’s strange how much Cyrus has changed over the past few months from raging emo to ride or die friend, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He doesn’t even try to stop the lofty sigh that escapes his lips as more dear memories cross his mind.

And Cyrus is all too quick to recognize that dumb look on his face.

“Oh, hell no!” Is the only warning he gets before being promptly dropped, this time no blue aura to save him from hitting the dirt below, landing with a thud. “Not this early in the morning!” Though Waker could have sworn Cyrus was sharing the same look with him not minutes prior.

“Ow! Why’d you drop me, asshole!?”

Cyrus cocks his hips as he floats there, his wide brimmed conical now covering his eyes in an intimidating manner, making him way more menacing than he should considering his current attire. “Oh please, don’t even act like you’re hiding that stupid look on your face, Idiot! I ain’t dealing with your whole sappy dappy act this early in the morning.”

By “sappy dappy” Waker knows exactly what he’s referring to and scowls accordingly. Apparently, holding hands and having morning cuddles while complimenting everything about Cyrus is considered sappy and lovingly disgusting. Well at least to some people, it’s called affection and admiration!

“It’s a look that means I like you, asswipe!” Waker shoots back, malice nowhere to be found in his tone though, barring more on playfulness.

“Do you think I’m in love with you or something!?”

And they then stand there -well float there- in silence, both looking each other in the eyes, narrowed brows testing the other to make the next move or say the next snappy comment. And for a moment it looks as if the words really have cut too deep, but Waker isn’t one to remain serious for long as his shoulders begin to shake, prompting the other to clutch his stomach and stifle a grin as their eyes water over with laughter.

“Oh, no, not me, I could never.” Waker quips, leaning back and hugging both his arms, not caring for the dirt now caking his suit. Cyrus is quick to come back with his own natural snark.

“Pfft, as if! Absolutely not. Me and you, the orange haired frizz ball who kicks my ass more than twice a week over that one time I stole a candy bar? You gotta be fucking with me!” He bellows, Waker taking note of the boy flipping upside down where he floats in the air, his face a contortion of joy and happiness as his ripped dress flows with the wind.

He finds the display rather adorable, recalling that such a thing only occurred by accident when the thief was getting emotional. His inept ability to control his powers never failed to amuse the Hero. The little wrinkle of his nose didn’t quiet his thoughtful admiration either as he blushed in between bouts of giggles.

"I wouldn't have time to be your lover anyways!"

“It’s only 6am, when can I admire my boyfriend so it fits within your busy schedule?”

And the laughter is immediately quieted, a heavy silence filling the air, even the crickets and cicadas falling victim to it. The world is waiting in bated breath as if listening to the drama unfold.

Waker holds in a breath. Oh shit, oh fuck, he really fucked it up this time! Way to go, Atlas, you really did a number on today!

…………

………….

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I just did-”

“It’s ok……” Cyrus breaths out, taking a long drag of air before finally finishing. “It’s….ok.” He manages to lower himself to the ground, dress falling at his sides, and crosses his arms in doing so. “We’re-I’m going to have to get used to it eventually.” He shrugs. “Right?”

There’s a weight to his words as Cyrus steps closer to the redhead that Waker recognizes near immediately. They’ve had this talk before, a talk that has led to a misunderstanding or two between them in the past and a verbal fight at that. The term “Boyfriend.” It was a touchy subject to say the least and while it had been a challenge for even Waker himself to start using it, it also seemed Cyrus was struggling to accept the lofty title. A long time ago before the two even met, the word had a different meaning to it for them both, but Waker had long since come to terms with it himself, but understood Cyrus’ hesitation in saying the word freely. He considered his next words carefully.

“I know you don’t exactly like the ter-”

“It’s not that I don’t like it Waker…..”

“I know, Cy, but.” Failing to put his thoughts into words Waker scrambles forward to catch Cyrus’ hands in his own, pecking each delicately, square on the knuckles, gauging his reaction whilst he does so. When Waker is met with a soft smile, he returns it, though his much softer and kinder in Cyrus’ eyes. “I shouldn’t have said it when you’re not ready. Just because I moved past it doesn’t mean you have.” Noticing his smile slipping he clumsily adds in, “And that’s ok! Really, it’s ok and I mean, and I love you and-uh, I get it and I mean I just say boyfriend because that’s what everyone else says, expects- wait no- I didn’t mean to phrase it like that uh-I don’t really get the need for a title for what we have anyways, like so dumb right!?”

Followed by more ridiculous rambling that has Cyrus covering his mouth trying not to giggle. It’s a nervous habit that has come to amuse the thief to no end. “And-it not like it means anything to us, its just there for other people so they know that um, we, us, you and I are an um item I guess wow that was cheesy and dumb and I am so sorry that you have to put up with me oh god I’m rambling and no, don’t look at me like that. I’m doing the thing again aren’t I-” Shaking with laughter again Cyrus has to put a hand on his shoulder to get him to shut up because he knows if he doesn’t Waker could go on well into the night and has before. It didn’t help that he could feel the tremble of the others fingers, realizing Waker was going to throw himself into an anxiety attack if he didn’t.

“Waker!” And Waker promptly closes his mouth, panic clear in his eyes that Cyrus quickly combats by brushing strands of orange out of his face and behind his ear. “Just take a deep breath.” And Waker does, following the instruction intently. “And let it out, slowly.” And Waker follows that too, looking that much calmer as Cyrus pulls him closer. “Slowly.” He rubs his thumbs over Waker’s hands. The trembling is still present, but less so. “There you go.” And doesn’t stop telling him to breath calmly until he feels Waker’s grip relax in his own.

Delicately and softly, each flyaway is combed back into place only to immediately pop out again, but Waker appreciates the sentiment anyways and Cyrus has no problem being given an excuse to keep combing through such lovely soft tufts. He loves the soft mane of fluff on his partner’s head that even since their first meeting has remained as untamed and wild as ever. -Such a shame he always ties it back when he’s on duty though- It just adds to the contrast between his actual self and hero persona, the sweet and endearing ball of anxiety vs the serious and battle ready hero of Dare city who couldn’t catch a break. And he wouldn’t be ashamed to admit to which one he preferred.

“You don’t need to tell me-er.” Waker quickly corrects, trying not to sound patronizing. “I don’t need you to explain yourself Cy. You-we don’t need to have a name if that’s what you want, that’s what I’m trying to say. Official or unofficial or whatever, I won’t treat you any different.”

“I know Waker. I…..I really want to call you that, just I-.......I just like what we have right now and-”

Waker just pecks him on the cheek quickly and pulls away to pat at a spot on the ground, looking longingly back up at him. A soundless “You don’t want to lose me.” goes unsaid as Cyrus complies, Waker taking the shorter one in his arms once more.

It wasn’t a matter of Cyrus being afraid to commit, though maybe it was, not even he was sure of what was going with himself anymore, but a fear that the wonderful friendship he’d built up with the hero would end or change or just not be the way it is now because they suddenly started calling each other boyfriends. He’s had it happen one too many times at this point, every one of his previous “boyfriends” changing everything once they started dating, acting as if kissing and romantic outings were supposed to be their only interactions from now on. They were no longer interested in the random silly things he found on the internet or just hanging out doing whatever, but were interested in using him, his body, parading him around and rubbing it in peoples faces, being denied having fun if it wasn’t their idea of “fun” and more. Cyrus' stomach curls remembering being ignored for weeks to months at a time because he wasn’t feeling up to being in bed with them or awkwardly sitting off to the side while his one boyfriend at the time showed him off to his friends and bragged. It was the same guy who he used to play videogames and eat cookies with on the weekends, talking about anything and everything…...It hurts him to realise there probably was never a friendship there to begin with. Just an elaborate ruse to get him into bed at some point.

And that was one thing Cyrus feared when they had held hands for the first time after awkwardly admitting to harboring feelings for each other after the high of a fight they were forced to join sides on. Never had the thief felt more relieved that his feelings were reciprocated, but also more scared that he had just ruined the one healthy relationship he managed to make in those many months spent together.

Cyrus removes his hat and huddles under Waker’s chin, placing his head right on his heart that gives out a steady, comforting rhythm and brightens when the taller of the two puts his head on him in return. No, Cyrus thinks, this is different.

A long silence falls between them as they cuddle in each other's arms, just watching the sun come up. Basking in each other’s presence, taking in the warmth of their bodies pressed together in this nice early morning, and relishing in the calm which was far and few in between with their double lives and they were thankful. There’s no need to exchange words now as a quiet understanding befalls them both.

It’s only after the sun seems to peak at the crest of the hillsides does Waker make himself heard again.

“Is that why you dropped me?” And Cyrus blinks for a quick second, processing the question before understanding and then playfulness cross his expression.

“No it’s because you’re a dunce.” He huffs. “And fucking heavy as hell.”

Waker chooses to ignore that last bit. “But I’m your dunce.” He boops his nose.

“Damn, straight you are.” And Cyrus retaliates with a kiss on his.

Boyfriend or just “friend who I like to kiss and hold hands with sometimes”, Waker loves him and Cyrus doesn’t doubt that for a second.

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missgirlnoname · 4 years

Text

I DO NOT SHARE WHAT IS MINE

Anakin Skywalker x Naive!Reader

WARNINGS: smutty?, rough Anakin, manipulation, masturbation, forced orgasm, daddy kink, choking kink, slightly young reader¡.

HEADS-UP: This is my first time writing anything remotely...inappropriate, per se. I am sorry if it’s not to great, but I’m trying my best. I feel so wrong for wanting to read let alone write fanfics like these, but I can’t help it! LORD FORGIVE ME

ANOTHER NOTE: I will say with complete honesty, that I have only watched the Star Wars films because I have an unhealthy obsession with Hayden Christensen. So some things I write may seem a little off and I’m sorry for that. Because I don’t have a full notion on everything Star Wars related, unless it’s Star Wars-anakin related.

(If you’d like to get to the “somewhat smutty” part of this story, then simply skip to where it says smut up ahead. This is quite long. I won’t judge you. 😏)

SUMMARY: (y/n) has a heated argument with her Jedi Master: Anakin skywalker, right before dinner time. Upset and emotionally drained, (y/n) leaves him, and heads to lunch on her own, meeting a friendly new padawan on the way. They take quite a liking to each other. Far to much a liking for anakin. He plans to show (y/n) just how much. Nobody gets in the way of anakin and what is his. Nobody.

(Y/N) POV:

“ Are you being serious right now!”

“Deadly.” He hissed.

“Until you learn how to properly yield that weapon in your belt; take my commands and respect me. You will not be accompanying me on any missions, is that understood!” Master skywalker, chided at you.

No response. You only glared intently at him, your fists trembling at your sides. Chest heaving eradically with a blind fury. You couldn’t believe this man!

“I said is that understood, young padawan!” He asked once more, his voice rising. Glaring right back at you with the same intensity.

You continued to stare at him defiantly.

This seemed to only further his anger, he narrowed his eyes as they darkended. You suddenly felt nervous. He began toward you from across the room in a quick fashion. Your heart began to race rapidly.

Would he hurt you? You thought.

No he-he wouldn’t...would he?

Not a moment before you could collect your thoughts, there he was. Right in front you. Towering over your small frame. You could feel the heat radiating off of him. So intense.

“Answer me now, (y/n).” He growled. You’d never made your master this angry. He growled at you like a ferocious beast. Now, all confidence once instilled, had quickly evaporated, you felt very small.

“I understand...” a whisper.

“I couldn’t quite hear you?” Master replied, with an eerie calm, for someone who seemed like they were too burst in a fiery rage only seconds ago. You looked down at the ground, defeated.

“I said I understand.” Loud and clear, he heard you.

But he needed to hear it again.

“I understand, who? (Y/n).” Master skywalker, asked once more. You then felt pressure beneath your chin. His thumb and forefinger gripped it gently, bringing your head upward to face his hard gaze.

Sighing, you finally said what he wanted to hear. How he wanted to hear it.

“Yes. I understand, master skywalker.” You replied gingerly.

A wide grin spread across his angelic face.

“That’s more like it. This little attitude of yours is only a faze, and I realize that. But there is point where it is expected and tolerable, and when it is you simply doing all you can to get on my nerves and defy me on everything I ask of you. I don’t tolerate such insolence little girl.”

As he said this, his grin had completely vanished, turning into a stoic expression. However, his eyes remained dark and dangerous, black as night.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t afraid of him at this very moment. He’d feel it either way. But as scared as you were, that anger had slowly began to resurface. As you remembered everything he had said on your way back from a meeting with the council. Every harsh dig, every patronizing word. You glared at him once again, holding eye contact for a few more deafening seconds; then ripped out of his grasp, making your way out of the room. You could feel his eyes burning holes into your back as you walked away.

‘Asshole’

You knew he’d heard your thoughts. But you didn’t care.

...

You were heading towards the dining hall, still quite irritable over the dispute you and your master had only minutes ago. As you walked down the empty corridor, you suddenly felt like you were not alone. You turned to your right, then your left. But there was not a soul in sight. Simply, you let it roll of your shoulder. That is until you felt a large hand wrap around your your waist, while another clamped over your mouth.

Yank!

You felt yourself being pulled back by something or someone. All you could do was try to wriggle out of their grasp, your cries of help muffled by your captors large hand. Squealing and squirming against this unknown being. Unknown, that is, until a burst of hearty laughter erupted into the air. The hands that once held you, realeased you from their hold.

You whirled around, anger written all over your face. But as you looked at the stranger before you, it somehow seemed to fade away.

“Oh my stars! You should have seen *panting* you should have seen your face!” The stranger, a boy, possibly around your age; said through gasps.

After a few moments his laughter died down, and he composed himself. Standing straight, and adjusting himself, he then held his hand out toward you. As if expecting you to take it after he nearly gave you a heart attack.

“If that is the way you normally introduce yourself to someone, I’d hate to see how you excuse your self from a conversation.” You commented squinting at the young boy, while still debating on whether you’d shake his hand or not.

He smiled a soft smile. His eyes twinkled in the light. His fair skin quite flawless, and a fluffy nest of golden locks sat atop his head. He looked warm and inviting. Yet you still denied him the pleasure of knowing who you were. Seeing as you were still annoyed that he snatched you up and whisked you away, out of sight from others; to get you alone, as a way of saying ‘hello, who are you’

Huffing, you rolled your eyes, twisted right around, and attempted to walk away. Forgetting all about dinner, you just wanted to return to your quarters.

But of course, that wasn’t to happen. Nope not at all.

“Wait! Look, I’m sorry. I realize that was quite wrong of me to do. I had no right to grab you the way I did. Seeing as to you have no clue who I am, nor I you. But I’d like to get to know who you are.” The boy explained, frantically trying to catch up with you, as you were already halfway down the hall.

“My name is Roman. I’m master yoda’s new apprentice. I arrived here from tattooine not long ago.” The boy called Roman, continued on.

You on the other hand, went treading along quietly, not serving him a second glance.

“Please don’t hold any grudge against me, I’d really like to think I’d make at least one good friend here.” He pleaded.

Nothing.

You heard a defeated sigh, and footsteps beginning to drift away from yours. You couldn’t help but turn back the slightest, watching the disappointed boy walk away, slump shouldered. Taking a deep breath in, you let out a sigh, having no idea you were holding it in.

“It’s (y/n).” You finally said.

Roman turned back around, and a small smile slowly crept unto his face.

————————————

A FEW DAYS LATER...

(Time Skip yes, because I drag)

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whispered

“No, I completely agree with you, we shouldn’t be doing this.” Roman replied.

The two of you had snuck into a forbidden area of the Jedi temple. No one was allowed back there. However, the two of you had been doing this for a few days now. You’d both bring along snacks, blankets and pillows; just to lounge around. Away from responsibility, away from everyone.

But it wouldn’t be as great, if it wasn’t a challenge going back every time. What with many droids keeping guard of the place. Pulling little stunts, throwing objections, and creating foolish distractions to get by. And it’d worked each time.

You too had arrived to your “spot” but what you found was displeasing to say the least.

All of your snacks, knocked over and scattered around the floor. Your pillows were slashed right down the middle, with what could only have been a lightsaber. The little lights you had hung up on the ceiling where ripped away, swinging back and forth, the ends brushing against the ground. It was a complete mess. You looked over at Roman, who was just as nervous and as stunned as you were.

“Force, we are in so much-“

“Trouble? why yes you are.”

Your eyes widened as you felt your stomach drop. You knew exactly who’s voice that was. Fear had overtaken your body.

I’m really in for it now. You thought.

You have no idea. You heard him that chilling voice speak through the force.

Both You and Roman had slowly turned towards the direction in which, the voice you knew to well, had come from. There, in all his intense glory, stood Master skywalker. Your master. He stood towering over the two of you. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body, if you could cut the terrible tension with a knife, you certainly would.

hell.

You didn’t need a knife, your lightsaber would do just fine; anything to rid yourself of this moment. Master skywalker held a harsh gaze, intently staring directly at Roman. It seemed as if all his anger was directed only towards the poor boy. He continued this painfully one sided staring contest for what seemed like forever. Roman visibly trembling, doing everything he could to avoid meeting the furious dark ocean eyes, that bore holes into him. You could hear romans heavy breathing mixed with yours. You couldn’t handle the deafening silence in the room any longer. You looked directly at your master, and attempted to find the right words.

“Sir?” You quipped softly.

He ignored you, still staring at Roman. All his fury seemed to focus solely on the kid. He payed you know attention. You weren’t even their.

“Master, please look at me.” You tried for his attention once again. Still nothing.

“Master skywalker?”

Nothing.

“Please answer me.”

Nothing.

“This was not all his doing, I was an accomplice. I helped bring us here. I’m just as guilty as he is. And shall except my punishment accordingly.” You went on, hoping he’d look your way and hear you out.

Nothing.

“Master, I’m begging you. Please! Say something, anything. Curse at me, yell at me, tell me how much of an insubordinate childish brat I am. Something is better then your silence.” You pleaded, your voice going a bit hoarse.

Nothing.

You were just about ready to burst. You had enough. If you were childish, he was being as such, going along with this silent treatment.

“ANAKIN! ANSWER ME NOW! DO NOT IGNORE ME. YOUR ACTING LIKE A FOOLISH CHILD, FOR FORCE SAKE. I AM JUST AS RESPONCIBLE AS ROMAN FOR WHAT HAS GONE ON AROUND HERE. AND QUIT LOOKING AT HIM LIKE A MADMAN! YOU ACT AS IF WE HAVE COMMITED A TREASON. WE HAVE NOT! WE ONLY WANTED TO FIND A PLACE FOR US TO HANG OUT. IS THAT SO WRONG?

For the first time since we’ve all been here, he had taken his eyes off of Roman, and now looked over at you. The same amount of anger and intensity as he had with Roman, could not possibly compare with how he felt with you. You could see his eyes glaze over. But, with anger? I’m sure, but their was something else you couldn’t quite describe; as he stared you down. (GIF ABOVE)

“Leave..” he said, his voice must’ve dropped, because it seemed much deeper, much huskier than before.

Confusion was written all over both Your’s and Roman’s face. Leave? Just like that? After everything that has taken place. He’s just going to let us leave? You both look at each other, with equal skepticism. When a low chuckle breaks your thought process. You turn back toward Your Master. He looked at Roman once again with an icy glare, then slowly looked back at you.

“Oh? Did you think I meant you could leave?” He cooed mockingly at you.

“No-no-no! I meant him.” Master, added.

The boy stared bewilderedly at anakin. Still frozen in place, not really sure of what to do. Roman simply could not tell if he were serious or not. But you could.

“Leave now boy! or I’ll drag you out myself.” Master skywalker said, through gritted teeth. His rage quite clear now. Roman jumped slightly at his harsh tone. He turned toward you, seemingly asking you for permission without needing to say it out loud. You nodded. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. You smiled weakly as you watched him slowly walk out of the room, careful not to meet anakins firey gaze. He then proceeded to have the doors slam shut harshly and lock. Finally looking back at you.

“And you. You won’t be going anywhere, anytime soon.”

( SOMEWHAT SMUTTY AHEAD)

“I truly am sorry, Master skywalker. I-.”

“Oh you will be, I’m certain of it.” Anakin cut you off.

Within a matter of seconds, you felt your small body collide against a wall. You groaned at the contact. A searing pain worked its way up your spine. You attempted to move, but were stopped abruptly as a pair of strong hands gripped your shoulders. Slamming you against the wall a second time. You hissed at the terrible pain consuming your body. Your eyes were screwed shut, head lolling back and forth; as you waited for the pain to disappear.

“You really know how to piss me off, don’t you little girl?” Anakin sneered at you. His face inches away from yours. “Who do you think you are, huh? Going around with that boy. Disrespecting me in front of that boy! Not using my proper title?, no such right was given.” Anakin growled. You looked him in the eyes, shaking with fear. They had darkened tremendously, and had once again glazed over. With what? You still weren’t sure of. “I only did that to get you to pay attention to what I had to say.” You attempted to speak through quivering lips. “Well, you certainly have my attention now, don’t you?” He snidely replied; his face even closer than before. You could feel his minty hot breath brush against your face. You needed to get away from him, you attempted to break free, which in turn, had him grab hold of your wrists and pin them at your sides. “Please master, let-let go.” You stuttered. “No I don’t think I will, (y/n).” Replied anakin, with a nasty grin. He then dragged a long finger, sliding it down passed your cheek bone, ever so slowly. Until he placed it on your lower lip, rubbing it gently.

What is he doing? You thought.

A smirk spread across anakins glorious features. “You see my dear apprentice, you’ve been a very bad girl, such behavior must be dealt with. You constantly disobey your master. You must learn to hold me with the utmost respect. Right here, right now. You will follow my every order. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir-master skywalker.” You corrected yourself.

That devilish grin had reappeared unto anakin’s face. He enjoyed you like this. At his mercy, following his every order. The control he now possessed of you, was exhilarating. You continued to pant heavily, afraid to look him in the eyes once more. He had you under a magnifying glass, squirming. And he loved it.

“One more thing. You will not converse with that boy any longer, do you hear? He will not talk to you, he will not go anywhere near you. Is that understood.” He added, his voice cold and unfeeling. You looked up at him.

“What! But-“ No Buts.” He interrupted.

“You are mine and mine alone. I do not like to share (y/n).” He hissed, one of his hands coming to wrap around your neck, giving it a light squeeze. Your eyes widened. What’s going on? You thought. Anakin laughed, it was as beautiful a hearty laugh as Romans. But it was dark. Nasty. An “up to no good” kind of laugh.

“ these are mine” he rubbed your upper lip, then bottom lip softly. before planting a soft yet searing kiss upon them. Stunning you.

“These are mine.” His hand slid down passed your neck, stopping right at the top of your small, but firm breasts. Giving one a light squeeze, you squeal at the sudden touch. Anakin grinned at this. His hand continued its journey downward, running past your stomach, to your hips; reaching around to grab at your bottom, roughly squeezing it. You continued to stare dumbfoundedly at him. His dark eyes bore into your light ones. His grin had completely fallen into a serious expression, biting his lip, then releasing it slowly from between his teeth.

“this is fucking mine.” Growling, his hand released your ass, reached around the front and brought his hand to cup your mound. Panic set it in, breathing heavily, you managed to push your master away from you. You stumbled forward, a bit dazed and completely confused. You felt heat radiate off of your body, but it didn’t seem to be of anger. It seemed to come from your womanhood. The heat was pooling in your panties?

I-I don’t understand. Force, what is going on?!

“I’ll show you.”

You then felt anakin pull you roughly towards him again. Your back now flush against his lean, well built frame. You could feel his arm wrap around your chest; while the other held your hips, hard. You could feel his fingers digging harshly into you. Even through your robes, you felt his nails pierce your soft flesh. Wincing and whimpering. You wanted to go back to your room, you wanted him to leave you alone. Yet you didn’t want to lose the warmth his body brought to you.

“Please anakin. Leave me alone.” You pleaded softly.

You then felt a strange feeling. A very strange feeling, in your lower abdomen. You felt pressure, a pressure that made you feel good. It slowly stimulated you.

“What are you doing, ani-

Harder

A gasp elicited from your lips. Your hips bucked slightly at the feeling.

“That’s master to you, slut.” He hissed into your ear.

Slut?

Anakin’s deep throaty chuckle in your ear, vibrated along your body. The pressure building up much quicker than before; an odd sound left your lips.

Harder.

Faster.

Another sound, much louder then before, had your face flushing in embarrassment. Why does that keep happening?

“Because your enjoying this. Go on, moan for me baby.” Anakin, cooed. The pressure increased rapidly and you began feeling some sort of knot in your stomach. It tightened, and tightened. You thought something might be wrong with you.

“Master, s-stop, I-I- don’t feel right.” You whined, trying to free yourself once again. But the more you struggled, the more the odd sensation built up. You began squirming, doing everything you could to stop what ever was to happen.

“It’s alright, Come on baby girl. Cum. Cum for daddy.” Anakin growled once again.

“Wha- I- don-.” Your incoherent babble only seemed to fuel whatever had its hold on you further. You felt as if you were hyperventilating, your chest heaving up and down. Gasps and moans fell from your mouth at every second. You then felt another kind of pressure. Around your neck. Anakin had wrapped his hand around your throat.

Is he going to kill me?

another deep throaty chuckle.

After a few more seconds, your legs began to shake, your muscles all seemed to tighten. The pressure was unbearable.

“Cum for me, Angel. Daddy wants you to cum.” He whispered huskily into my ear, giving it a little nibble. His hand still wrapped around your throat, giving it a slightly harder squeeze. And that was it. You felt everything shatter within you. Vision a blur of white light. A sound so unflattering to your ears shot out of you.

“Fuck.” Anakin groaned. Did he enjoy that too?

Your breathing had slowly gone back to normal, beads of sweat glistened along your face. Then, you fell limp. Absolutely numb, weak as if your very life force had been sucked right out of you. Anakin laughed at this, while he ran his fingers through your hair, and planted a soft kiss to your temple.

“You did wonderfully, angel.” He complimented you. You couldn’t help but smile. As for what you did wonderfully, you still didn’t know.

...

A/N: oh my god! It was so long, I literally drag and I’m so sorry for that! Again, this isn’t written that well, I know. I don’t know to much about how to write “dirty” nor am I good at dirty talk. I literally stepped out of my comfort zone, adding in a few curse words 👏. But oh well. I hope you somewhat liked this. I really wanted to help feed the thirsty anakin community. 😂

#anakin skywalker #star wars #revenge of the sith #hayden christensen #young anakin #anakin smut #smutty #anakin x reader #omgpage #fyppage #daddy k!nk #choking #movies #naiveasf #tumblrgirl #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine

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princessfbi · 3 years

Note

Ok I have got to know what happened with Oliver's character on that one show that makes you rage so hard every time you see him.

WELL NONNIE I'LL TELL YOU!

This is a warning for spoilers if anyone wants to watch this show because my rage cannot be contained.

OK SO...

This show is called Into the Badlands and Oliver's character is named Ryder. Basically the premise of this world is that it's kind of post apocalyptic/alternative universe where humanity got so caught up in trying to one up each other that it sort of imploded and now you have this society where either you're super wealthy (the Barrons), super poor (Cogs and Nomads), or somehow a ninja (The Clippers and whatever the hell MK was supposed to be). ANYWAYS....

Ryder is the son of Barron Quinn. Now the surviving land is either divided into like factions run by Barrons (who control a majority of major trade) or there's these lawless lands that are run dredges of society. You either become a Barron by killing another Barron (which is what Quinn did) or you are an heir apparent. Ryder is more an heir presumptive because Quinn won't outright name him his heir even though everyone just assumes it.

This is because Quinn is batshit crazy and thinks he can just live forever through sheer stubbornness and will alone. This is especially hard to do because he has a massive brain tumor that's dwindling down what little bit of sanity he has leading him to make questionable choices such as killing the only doctor they have in the lands who would've been useful pretty much for the rest of the series but go off Quinn. Ryder has a lot of resentment towards his father, which I will get into in a minute, and at the same time has gone out of his way to prove to Quinn that he's a worthy heir. Except Quinn keeps comparing Ryder to his second and regent, Sunny, and he's just all around a shitty person in general.

NOW HERE'S THE AMAZING BACKSTORY WITH RYDER:

So, when Ryder was a child, he was kidnapped by these nomads who were trying to blackmail Quinn. Ryder's mother begged Quinn to pay the ransom and save Ryder. Quinn... refused. So the nomads tortured Ryder and (Gross warning) like cut off part of his toes and disfigured his foot in the hopes of crippling him and scaring Quinn into giving to their demands.

Quinn, again, refused.

Eventually Quinn's regent at the time, Waldo, defies Quinn's orders and goes to rescue Ryder from these nomads. Waldo defying Quinn is a big deal because he's a clipper which is basically a soldier (often brought in from the slave faction called Cogs) and they take their oaths to their Barrons very seriously. Barrons trust no one but their regents because again you can become a Barron by killing them. But Waldo always had a soft spot for Ryder.

SO Ryder is saved and eventually nursed back to health but he always has a bit of a tragedy cloud hanging around him because from what we were told Ryder was a very sweet, bright child before he was kidnapped and was brought back as "a broken bird" and he's been doing everything he can to get rid of the broken bird image ever since.

Quinn resented Ryder for making him look weak and Ryder resented Quinn for... Well being a heartless dick.

But here's the crazy part... They both, in their own way, still kind of loved each other.

Now I won't bore you with my rant about how the best antagonists are often the tragic figures who have fallen from grace (Peter Hale, Draco Malfoy, Loki to name a few) BUT I will say Ryder had the PERFECT foundation of showing that fall. He was an asshole and hard and spoiled and super privilege but also soft and still a little broken. There's a whole other narrative involved too with his childhood love and how his dad planned on marrying her but we won't get into that.

ANYWAYS Ryder still had this desperate need to prove to his dad that he was a worthy heir but in his attempts to prove himself (and his dad's fall into madness) his dad started seeing him as competition. Competition and another objects (like Quinn saw with most other characters but especially Sunny). But Quinn has this weird kind of pride when it comes to things that he considers his and an attack on his property is an attack on him. There's a character named the Widow who lured Ryder out and tried to kill him slowly and personally as well as Sunny as an attack on Quinn and he went bananas (sorta).

Ryder was fine eventually but he realized that trying to prove himself to his dad was never going to work so he decides to try the other option: which is killing his dad. Partially because if he doesn't, Ryder is smart enough to know that Quinn's going to get him killed, but also because Quinn's descent into madness is spiraling faster and faster and Ryder wants to protect the legacy. Nothing to inherit if his dad burns the whole thing to the ground!

Long story short, Sunny turns on Quinn and stabs him and everyone thinks Quinn is dead and Ryder takes credit for it therefore succeeding his dad by becoming not only Barron of his father's lands but some other Barron that got murdered by another subplot that was pointless.

Now Ryder is determined to bring peace to the lands (not out of some noble obligation but because he just wants people to chill the fuck out). And for the most part... he's doing okay.

BUT THEN PLOT TWIST HIS DAD IS ALIVE AND CRAZIER THAN EVER.

Basically his dad storms Ryder's house, chases him down in the garden, and they fight. But Ryder's foot that was crippled when he was a child trips him up and the fight gets even messier. Ryder's sword breaks and Quinn points the sword to his own chest and tells Ryder to finish him.

Ryder hesitates and so Quinn takes the sword and stabs Ryder. You know like a rational father would do.

Quinn then asks Ryder why he hesitated and Ryder whispers "because you're my father" before he dies in Quinn's arms. Quinn is... horrified because he realizes that with the death of Ryder is the death of the last parts of his own humanity. He mourns Ryder but also like... takes no responsibility for killing him but neither did Ryder so he can't process it. Later on he's haunted by Ryder but again the man has a giant grapefruit sized tumor in his brain so it's all very reverse Hamlet if you will.

SO LOOK AT ALL THIS POTENTIAL!

THE REASON I RAGE:

Is because Ryder was set up to fail from the beginning. Which is great!....... If that had actually happened. The show worked so hard to tell us that Ryder was a failure and a coward but if you look at it from a story perspective... Ryder was the opposite of a failure. Every time someone told him he couldn't do something, he proved them wrong. Again and again and again. But that was never good enough for anyone. So that vicious cycle would've been amazing to see!

But instead of exploring any of that, we had to watch a storyline that was frankly ridiculous from the beginning that took up way more time than it should. There's a character named MK, who was supposed to be inspired by the myth The Monkey King, but if you don't know that story then you never would've figured that out. Hell, I knew the story and didn't figure it out until I had to google his name because I kept forgetting it. In comparison to everything else happening in the show, this magical mythical storyline just didn't fit and I'm not kidding when I say I watched a season and a half of this show and forgot about MK every time.

Now if you noticed my icon is Buck in a Box. That's an inside joke I have with a friend about this fucking show. The first scene starts off with Sunny stumbling onto a group of Nomads who go absolutely feral about this massive box they don't want him to look inside. Turns out MK was in this box for reasons that were too weak for me to even remember but again MK was entirely forgettable. My friend and I kept talking about how it would've been better if Ryder had been in the box because the Ryder and Sunny rivalry had so much unexplored potential that would've been incredible if we started from the very beginning instead of just being told over and over again that Ryder hates being compared to Sunny.

Sunny is the main character and Quinn, unlike with Ryder, was incredibly proud to have Sunny "in his possession" and Ryder hated him for it.

But did we get to explore that? NO! Did we get to explore the parallels of Sunny and Ryder chafing at being considered possessions by Quinn? NO! Did we get to explore the trauma Ryder was working so hard to shake off? NO!

Instead the show spent so much energy victim blaming Ryder essentially for being the son of a Villain and his Nonsensical Ambitious Mother who had the misfortune of being kidnapped by bandits as a child while telling the audience that Ryder was never going to succeed. That Ryder had no honor and was a coward and weak.

They spent way more time trying to tell us that we should hate Ryder and that he was a bad guy but didn't do ANY of the work to show the fall from grace to prove that. Ryder remained a tragic figure that didn't fall from grace but was rather pushed off by lazy writing because they wanted to focus again on this magical ninja boy with a penchant for getting in the way and ruining everything.

I rage because Antagonist and Villain are not the same thing. Ryder had the potential of becoming a villain and his death by the hands of his father would've cycled him back into the role of a tragic figure. But instead... it was just wasted.

THAT is why I rage. You had the material right there and yet you spent so long telling us that we, the audience, don't like Ryder instead of showing us anything that would make us not like him (besides the whiny white boy thing).

Instead I found myself rooting for Ryder. Like could you imagine if Ryder and Sunny went against Quinn together instead of having the weakest rivalry known to man? Could you imagine Ryder's fall from grace of wanting peace in the lands as it turned to greed? Could you imagine Sunny becoming actual competition for Ryder instead of being manipulated to do so?

WE GOT NONE OF IT.

THIS is why I rage.

#I'm so sorry nonnie #I ranted #But you asked for it #So here it is #Oliver Stark #Ryder into the badlands #Into the badlands #anon #ask #answered

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therenlover · 3 years

Text

The Doctor Is In (Part Two of Till Forever Falls Apart, A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Synopsis: Peter’s first few days in his new home are mostly uneventful, so he decides it’s the perfect time to dust off his running goggles and steal some shit. The building with the massive circular stained glass window seems like a great place to start! People with buildings that lavish are usually rich and weak, so what could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, Falling in Love, Attempted Theft, Secrets, Suspicions,

Rating: T

Warnings: Mild Language, Slight Sexual Innuendo

Word Count: 2800~

This work, as well as the other completed parts of this series, have been crossposted to my AO3!

-----

To Peter’s credit, it had all started with good intentions… okay, semi-good intentions, but that was the best defense he had to offer.

One moment he’s speeding into a funky building with a cool glass window looking for a knick-knack to take home to Y/N and the next he’s falling through endless darkness, searching for anything he could possibly grab onto. It was hell. Worst of all, though, he couldn’t use his speed. The world was only emptiness and darkness for as far as he could reach. Well, it was until he hit the ground.

It was a sudden jolt after what felt like hours of captivity when Peter hit the cool tiles of the flooring below him. The bright light after total darkness burned his eyes. He winced against it, lifting his arms to shield his face. There was no time to acclimate to his new surroundings, though, which were definitely not part of the building he had been inside before he might add, because the second his vision came back into focus a booming voice rang out from behind him.

“Peter Maximoff, what purpose did you have for breaking into the Sanctum Sanctorum?”

Peter spun around quickly on the ground to find a man floating behind him. Wait, floating? He didn’t even have time to question how the stranger knew his name while he was questioning what the hell he was. Was he a mutant? The man looked furious, his red cape billowing out behind him in an almost menacing manner while he stroked his goatee, eyebrows pinched together with rage. Peter had no clue what his deal was or who the hell he was looking at but he did know he had to calm him down fast if he wanted to avert disaster.

Apparently, he was thinking too long though because he wasn’t fast enough.

“I’ll ask you one last time,” the man’s hands came down to chest level, whirring with some sort of orange power, “why did you break into the Sanctum Sanctorum? This is your last chance,”

Somewhere in the distance, a dull thud sounded against the tile, like someone dropping a purse or bag. Peter didn’t have time to think about that, though. He was too busy saving his own life. All he had to do was get to his feet so he could run off! Unfortunately, that was better said than done.

“Woah, Woah, Woah!” he scrambled backward trying to stand but found his feet bound with the same orange sparks that were growing by the second in his attacker’s hands, “I have no clue what the hell a Sanctum Sanctorum is! I think you’ve got the wrong guy, man,”

His assailant cocked his head to the side. “So you’re telling me some other inhumanly fast kleptomaniac mutant from another dimension broke through all of my wards and tried to steal priceless magical artifacts from the Sanctum?”

Peter shrugged nonchalantly. “Magical artifacts? Dude, magic isn’t real. You’ve got the wrong guy,”

Thankfully, the man sighed in exhaustion, letting the orange sparks in his palms disappear as he pinched the bridge of his nose leaving only the ones around Peter’s ankles remaining. For the first time in his life, Peter was glad to be annoying.

“Jesus, I should have had my coffee before dealing with you…”

“I know right?” Peter propped himself up on his hands, “it’s always tragic when you catch the wrong guy, but I’m sure you’ll find your thief eventually. In fact, I think I saw some super speedy dude running towards Central Park when I was walking past that fancy building with the big circle window. That’s so weird! Maybe you should let me go so you can go find your guy,”

The man only seemed to get more pissed off the further Peter dug himself into his own grave. “Oh, I’m not planning on letting you go any time soon. I’m just avoiding a reckoning by letting your keeper know I’m taking you into the Avenger’s custody before we go,”

He was so screwed. “That’s not a-”

Before Peter could even finish his sentence, a crash echoed from across the room.

“STEPHEN STRANGE,”

Now, Peter couldn’t decide if he was saved or even more screwed than before.

There, across the room of what he had now gathered to be a large exhibit at some sort of museum, was Y/N. To say she looked furious would be an understatement.

The art on the walls seemed to shake in her wake as she stormed into the open center of the room, eyes boring holes into Peter’s assailant as she rolled up the sleeves of her paint-stained denim button-up. He could only imagine that this was the reckoning the magic dude was trying to avoid.

The man, Stephen, didn’t waver despite Y/N’s entrance. “Would it kill you to just use my title? I got my doctorate for a reason, you know,” His tone was flat and almost bored as Y/N seethed.

“Fuck you,” she spat, “what the hell are you doing with Peter? And bringing him here of all places? I thought you were supposed to be the responsible Avenger,”

“And I thought you were supposed to keep this menace under control. It looks like we both have a few responsibilities we aren’t keeping up with, huh?”

Across the floor, Peter winced. He hadn’t intended on getting anyone in trouble, he was just looking for a little fun to pass the time and maybe a housewarming gift that would fit in with the rest of Y/N’s antique decor. How was he supposed to know that a crazy, magic, floating guy would take him to what he could only assume was magic prison for breaking into his wizard’s lair? Surprisingly, Y/N picked up his movement.

“Peter, are you okay?” Her eyes never left Strange, flaming with a ferocity that bordered on homicidal, but her voice softened considerably as she spoke to him. He was quick to respond.

“I’m all good! A little tied up at the moment, but it’s nothing I can’t handle!” He shouted back.

Y/N nodded. “Good, just stick tight while I deal with this asshole,”

As the last words left her lips all the softness she had mustered for Peter’s sake dissolved, leaving behind pure, unbridled anger once more.

“You had no right to take him, Strange. We made a deal,”

“You’re right, we did make a deal,” Stephen responded, floating to the ground and taking a step closer to Y/N, “but my duties as Sorcerer Supreme will always come first,”

“That has nothing to do with him! He poses no threat to this universe!”

“He was attempting to steal extremely powerful magical artifacts, Y/N! If a mutant from another dimension had gotten their hands on the Book of Vishanti or the Clock of the Ages who knows what might have happened?”

Y/N stilled. “Peter,” her voice wasn’t the same as it had been when she was shouting at Strange, but it also wasn’t half as gentle as it has been before, “did you steal anything from Stephen?”

Peter, still dazed from the entirety of the experience, was quick to defend himself.

“No! No, I didn’t steal anything!”

One sharp look from Stephen and Y/N sent him spiraling for an excuse.

“Okay, I went in with the intention of stealing, but I had no idea that stuff was magical! I didn’t even know wizards existed! Witches I understood but wizards too? In the middle of New York? Besides, all of this is a moot point! I didn’t actually take anything,”

Surprisingly, Y/N’s expression seemed to soften once again. “See, Stephen? Peter didn’t mean any harm. Now let him go, and this can all be a thing of the past,” As she spoke, he could have sworn that her eyes began to faintly glow.

“I still don’t think it’s a great idea to let him roam free,” Stephen ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair and the restraints around Peter’s ankles tightened slightly.

“Then you’ll have to take him from me,” Y/N brought her hands up, small rippling balls of light beginning to grow in her palms. Peter had never been so scared and aroused in his life. Was this the ‘small power’ she had mentioned to him when he moved in?

“I have remained civil with you and the mages of your order, Strange, but you have no power over me, especially on my own home turf. You lack the time stone now, so you know what will happen if you and I go toe to toe again. Besides, none of that matters. Peter is mine. Mine to protect and defend until he returns to his rightful place in his universe. So, will you let him go, or will we have to settle this the old-fashioned way?”

Y/N’s eyes were definitely glowing now, a brilliant green gleaming from within her as a rough breeze began flowing in from the door across the room. Stephen made no move to attack though. Instead, he heaved a sigh. “You can have your man child back Y/N, calm down,”

Slowly, the glow dissipated, the orbs of light shrinking into nothingness as she lowered her hands. “Thank you, Stephen,”

In an instant, it was as if the pair had gotten along the whole time.

He nodded. “Don’t thank me, just keep him away from ancient magical secrets next time,” Strange paused as if he was finished speaking, but then chuckled softly. It was the most human Peter had ever seen him. “You know how this ends, Y/N. We both do. Are you really sure you want to go through with this?”

It was Y/N’s turn to nod. “I appreciate that you’re looking out for me, but I made my choice a long time ago. There has never been another path for me. Please respect that,”

Peter was clueless as to what any of their exchange meant, too busy rubbing the ache out of his newly freed ankles to think too deeply about whatever deep exchange was happening in front of him, but a nagging feeling in his chest made him think that it must have something to do with him.

Then, in a burst of golden light, Stephen Strange was gone, leaving Y/N and Peter alone as they took in everything that had just happened. It was silent for a moment, the two of them caught between being stunned and glad to see each other, before Y/N’s angry facade melted away.

“What a fucking asshole,” she snickered, making her way over to Peter and offering him a hand, “I hate that guy,”

Peter took her hand and, with a soft pull, was finally upright again. “I know, right? He seems like a total douchebag,”

“Right? Like, yeah it’s terrible enough to kidnap you and try to take you into Avengers custody, but trying to get me to hand you over at my job? That’s just rude on a whole new level,”

“You work here?” Peter gestured at the art on the walls, making Y/N smile.

“Yeah, this is where I go every day. Welcome to the Brooklyn Museum!” She began to lead him out towards the door, linking her arm around his in a strangely intimate act. Peter was sure that she didn’t mean it like that but something about her closeness made his heart flutter.

He guffawed as they walked, passing happy couples and exhibits packed full. “It’s cool here, but I just assumed you worked somewhere… I dunno, more hero-y?”

Y/N laughed. “Everyone always does, but I’ve been attached to restoring paintings since before I ever took up the whole hero gig. I guess it’s the one stable thing I’ve had for my whole life.”

Watching Y/N’s face light up almost made Peter forget that less than an hour earlier he’d been shoved in an infinite dark dimension and threatened with imprisonment by a wizard. It was like she was the only thing worth seeing in a building full of priceless art.

“I’ve always felt strangely comfortable in museums,” she continued, hand brushing against Peter’s bicep in what he could only assume was an accident, “being surrounded by history just feels right to me. It’s like coming home,” Peter couldn’t help but grin, holding back a snicker.

“I’m guessing that’s the real reason you offered to take me in,” he teased, gently ribbing Y/N and making her giggle, “just couldn’t help but bring home a blast from the past who still has their youthful good looks,”

“You caught me! I just couldn’t resist your elderly charms,”

In a moment of poor judgment, Peter found himself leaning into her touch but was surprised to find her leaning right back into him. His heart began to pound faster. He could only hope she couldn’t tell. The feeling of being close to Y/N, listening to her laugh, being the shoulder she leaned on… it was like nothing Peter had ever felt before.

The short remainder of their walk to Y/N’s destination was mostly quiet, but neither of them tried to pull away from the other. Their moment only ended when they reached a large door labeled ‘Staff Only’. Y/N finally unlinked her arm from Peter’s before turning to face him. He was proud to note the flush on her face.

“I’m gonna go grab my bag,” she muttered, worrying the edge of her lip with her teeth, “do you mind taking me home? Traveling with you would probably be faster than hailing a taxi, and way less expensive,”

Between the thought of getting to be close to Y/N again and the excitement of getting to show off his powers, Peter was eager to please. “Sure thing! Do you want me to grab your bag for you? I’m sure I’d be quicker?” He emphasized his statement with a wink. Unfortunately, it didn’t have the desired effect.

Instead, Y/N looked almost nervous as she shook her head no. “I’ve got it, Peter,” she insisted.

He quirked up an eyebrow in surprise. “You sure? We could be home in a minute tops, just say the word,”

“There’s just a lot of important museum stuff back there! I trust you Peter, but this is priceless art we’re talking about, so I’d rather not take any chances. I’ll be back in a second!”

She slowly backed towards the door, offering him one last smile before disappearing into the darkness beyond. Something about her expression turned Peter’s stomach. It wasn’t unfamiliar, she had acted similarly in a few days Peter had known her at seemingly random times, but it just seemed… suspicious, like there was something he should definitely know that he was being kept in the dark about. Despite everything, he shook off the feeling, chalking it up to him not understanding all the intricacies of this new universe. If love made him blind, he was willing to take that chance.

It only took a few minutes for Y/N to emerge, a small messenger bag in hand, but when she did she was joyful once again, offering Peter an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. Did I miss anything while I was gone?”

He shook his head, pulling down his goggles and offering her his hand. “Not much, just the end of the world,”

She giggled. “So do I just hop on your back or what?”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat. In a second he was down on his knee. “All aboard,” He did his best to keep still as Y/N settled herself on his back, then he was lifting her easily, arms hooked under her knees as she giggled into his hair. “What’s so funny?”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders securely as he stood. “I just expected you to call yourself the Bohner express,”

It took all of Peter’s strength to keep his laughter under control. “You tell me that now? After the opportunity to use it has passed?”

Y/N squeezed him a little tighter. “I’m sure you’ll get to use it next time,”

The thought of a next time sent Peter’s heart rate through the roof. Oh, it was on.

“I’d hold on if I were you,” he said, smirking, “the Bohner express is leaving the station,”

Y/N was quick to snap back. “Let’s hope it doesn’t disappoint,”

“Oh Y/N, the Bohner express never disappoints,”

“Prove it,”

Peter had them back to the brownstone in record time.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader #marvel #doctor strange #quicksilver #fanfic #wandavision

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quidfree · 3 years

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can you Please write the scene with bakugou's piercing SGDHEFEH the concept is too funny to me !!!

anon you’re lucky 報復性熬夜 is a concept i am firmly attached to so here i am at 1 am rattling this off instead of getting my beauty sleep. please excuse the standard of writing as a result

by the second day, katsuki is seriously considering agreeing to todoroki’s earlier and ambiguously sincere proposal that they play i spy.

he doesn’t know what it is about this particular job that’s so unbearable. no, scratch that- of course he knows what’s unbearable; it’s sat right next to him on a too-small chair in their too-small room staring impassively out of a too-small window. but he’s been thrown into so much shit with icyhot you’d think he’d developed some kind of immunity by now, the way vaccines microdose you on viruses so you can resist the real thing. call katsuki an antivaxxer, he guesses, because he has overdosed on todoroki ever since he met the asshole and he’s still not ready for how far up the wall he’s driving him when they’re stuck together for two straight days without a breather or any contact with the outside world.

cards on the table: stake-outs aren’t his thing. he does them just fine, fuck you very much, but he doesn’t like ‘em. why would he? they’re some ungodly blend of extremely boring and extremely tense, where nothing happens right up until way too long into it and then everything goes to shit unprompted. it’s rare he ever gets called in on jobs like this- people tend to assume he lacks the temperament for it, for one, and for another he’s too useful to lock away for days on end. it’s only because their suspected target is so insanely volatile and dangerous that it’s the two of them waiting for her to show her ugly face- no one else is even allowed in the perimeter. which is fucking fine, but he just wishes the cops would get their shit together for once and actually have the proof ready by the time they call the pros in so he doesn’t have to wait before he goes in guns blazing. instead they talked some bullshit about how critical of a stage this was and blah blah fifteen years of (obviously mediocre) work had gone into setting this trap, etc etc. the point is that it’s led to katsuki stuck in the world’s most disgusting little apartment, staring out of a splintered window for two-going-on-three days with no one but the world’s most annoying prodigy to keep him company. the place is such a dump they’re sleeping on mats in sleeping bags. it’s like fucking UA summer camp, and at this point he’d take the kidnapping over the waiting.

day one wasn’t so bad, right up until he realized there would be a day two. day two is bad from start to finish. they’re supposed to take turns on watch but there’s fuck all else to do except sit on their phones, and katsuki can only quote tweet so much dumb shit before he gets bored. he can’t talk to anyone outside because of confidentiality bullshit, and there’s no point checking work shit when he can’t do anything from where they are. so it’s either silently watching the warehouse or talking to todoroki, and todoroki is a fucking terrible conversationalist.

the thing with icyhot is this: katsuki doesn’t hate him, okay. like, he hates him, but also not really. they’re, at a push, maybe, sort of, friends. verging on close ones. not that he’d say so, but after the amount of dramatic self-sacrifices and final stands against a joint enemy they’ve endured he can’t really muster the energy to argue otherwise. todoroki’s tolerable, sort of maybe. usually katsuki borderline likes working with him, because if nothing else he’s good at what he does, and they know each other too well to be anything but in sync in the field. if they were doing almost anything else he’d be relieved at the choice of pairing.

they are not, however, doing anything else, and todoroki still fucking sucks at talking like a normal person. when he’d woken katsuki up for his shift of night-watch he’d loomed over him ominously like a fucking ghoul and said, voice belying no humor: “do you think plants can feel pain?”

there’s fucking nothing to talk about. anything interesting is essentially vetoed because it’d inevitably distract them from the whole intent observation thing, and katsuki hates small talk on a normal day but especially when todoroki’s doing his ‘alien attempting earth dialect’ bit and asking him about weather or the tokyo transportation system or whatever. so they just sit in semi-silence and occasionally go on very stupid tangents katsuki is glad no one can witness and remain overall bored out of their fucking skulls.

by day three they’ve already exhausted i spy and also the alphabet game and hangman, and katsuki draws the line at tic-tac-toe. todoroki looks implacable as always but his eye has started twitching a little. katsuki tries to think of literally anything that could plausibly take up their time and not take their eyes off the window, comes up short. twister is not a good idea even ignoring their lack of a board. shop talk is so very tempting, but he’s not losing this villain and wasting two days’ suffering because they get carried away on some long-winded discussion, so that’s not an option either.

“how’s your ear?” todoroki says, and at first katsuki thinks he’s really fucking lost it if he’s started asking after the wellbeing of his individual body parts, but then he remembers the last time they saw each other katsuki was throwing himself into the path of some jackass with a trumpeting quirk who nearly blew out his eardrum, so he guesses half ‘n half’s not entirely insane yet. he shrugs, shifts in his chair.

“fine. couldn’t hear shit from it for like three straight days, though. and my balance was fucked.”

“it hasn’t scarred at all.”

“yeah. lame place for a scar,” katsuki says, flexing his fingers absently. they’re all of them more roughed up than they were at UA, but talent and good healers have kept him mostly intact, give or take a few big nasties like the time he got gutted in first year or his near loss of an eye around graduation. privately he suspects genetics have dealt him a good hand, what with his gene donor’s perfect skin, but then todoroki doesn’t have that excuse and he’s not scarred anywhere ugly except the obvious, though katsuki could point blind to most of the nasties he’s accumulated under his suit.

not that he thinks about what’s under todoroki’s suit. god, he needs to get out of here.

“i don’t know,” todoroki is saying now, thoughtful. “a lot of people have ear-scars, no? from piercings.”

“that’s different,” katsuki says, immediately contrarian, even as he thinks about it. by the warehouse a truck stalls, but then moves on, lessening his momentary excitement. “most people don’t let that shit heal. unless you’re a moron there’s no point getting a hole jabbed through your ear if you’re not sure you want it.”

“would you?” todoroki asks, mildly curious, and taps his ear where katsuki can see him in the window’s reflection. “get a piercing, i mean.”

“what’s it to you?”

todoroki rolls his eyes at him like he’s being pointlessly difficult, which he maybe is a little. “i don’t know. i think it would suit you.”

“yeah?” katsuki sniffs, mollified and trying not to show it. it’s always a mistake to let icyhot know when his obvious ploys are working. “been thinking about it?”

“i can hardly sleep at night for thinking about it,” todoroki deadpans, which makes katsuki scowl and stomp down on the extremely unwarranted flush crawling up his neck in response.

“fuck off. i guess i’d do like one or two.”

“really? you always say no to tattoos.”

“that’s different. i don’t trust some asshole to draw a fucking infinity sign on my knee or whatever. sticking a hole through an ear is hard to fuck up, and you barely register it after. if you get a shitty tattoo you have to think about it all the time.”

“if it’s easy then why don’t you have any?” todoroki asks, but he sounds genuinely curious more than like he’s trying to catch him out, so katsuki thinks about it honestly.

“don’t have the time. ‘s not like i can really afford to pencil in an afternoon to the nearest parlor or whatever just for that.”

“i read you can pierce your ears with a needle.”

“i guess i haven’t fucking thought about it that much, then,” katsuki grumbles, forever irked by todoroki’s smart mouth. problem solver his ass. the guy goes around making problems for everyone.

they sit in silence for a beat, watching the breeze rattle the wooden planks barricading a window opposite them, and then he thinks needle, and does some very quick mental arithmetics to reach the conclusion that todoroki is probably also landing on, judging by the way he blinks when katsuki briefly glances his way.

he thinks about the job, and how close he’d come to throttling todoroki during i spy, and the great dawning nothingness ahead of them for fuck knows how long still. at the very worst, they have to start moving with a needle in his ear.

“pass me your medikit.”

todoroki does, but when katsuki unzips the pack he shifts. “it’d be easier if i did it.”

“it’s not rocket science,” katsuki mutters, considering the needle critically before glancing back out of the window. “'s not like i give a shit about precise location.”

“i’m just saying i wouldn’t have to go in blind. and you can keep watch while i do it.”

“or you can keep watch while i do. same shit.”

todoroki only shakes his head, because unlike some people who shall not be named he is not so incredibly psychosexually attached to offering help where it isn’t wanted. “fine.”

katsuki eyes the window, squints at his ear. tissue’s the best bet- he thinks he could probably manage cartilage fine, but on the off chance they have to drop everything and run he doesn’t want to accidentally snap a bone and start the fight inconvenienced. lobe it is.

“wait,” todoroki says, just when he’s focused, and then reaches over without removing his gaze from the window to press two fingers to the needle, tip going blisteringly red-hot before he releases it. cauterised. their kit’s sterilised anyway, but katsuki grunts his begrudging thanks, repositions himself.

“wait,” todoroki says again, and this time katsuki can’t help but turn to glare at him where he’s still watchfully staring outside.

“fucking what, icyhot?”

“two seconds,” todoroki promises, gaze flickering his way for half a second with something like self-effacing amusement before he turns his eyes dutifully away and reaches his other arm around to pinch his ear, which flares cold so quickly katsuki hisses even as his cheeks heat. fucking weirdo.

“could’ve just said,” he mutters, ignoring his not at all jumpy pulse to refocus on the task at hand as todoroki does that obnoxious lip-twitch thing that means he’s smiling internally.

physics dictates that he keep his wrist at an angle if he wants the needle to come out right, so he does, braces and jabs. it goes so easy he almost doubts his own success, not even the slightest twinge of pain ensuing. he twists for good measure, removes the needle, watches tiny beads of blood emerge from the piercing.

well, that was anticlimactic, katsuki thinks, retrieving an anti-bacterial wipe for the needle, and then pauses, staring at the window.

“motherfucker.”

“what?”

“what the fuck am i supposed to put through this?”

todoroki’s mismatched eyes go gratifyingly wide in the window, and for one spectacularly braindead moment two of the world’s most outstanding pro-heroes stare at one another in a shitty broken window with equal amounts of retroactive dismay.

“um,” todoroki says, or as close to ‘um’ as todoroki will ever say. katsuki wishes dearly he was still of an age where he could throw him through a wall. then his eyes focus elsewhere, sharpening with what could pass as professional focus but is mostly naked relief. “um.”

um in-fucking-deed. by the warehouse, a door has just opened a sliver.

“you owe me a fucking earring,” katsuki declares, but so fast it lacks any aggression, already halfway out the window by the time he finishes speaking, atrophied limbs reviving with an ecstatic chemical burn as fresh air hits their faces.

god. if he ever gets stuck on stake-out duty again he’s sleeping by himself under a parked car or some shit.

they make disgustingly quick work of the fight, in the end, days of pent-up frustration and skull-numbing boredom leaving them so bursting with power that it’s almost embarrassing for the villain, but when the first kow-towing police officer reaches them full of praise and suggestion that they handle another job he has queued up they chorus a ‘no’ so violent the guy actually jumps.

todoroki’s not so bad, katsuki thinks fondly, watching his face slide into frigid blankness with absolutely no idea of how shitless he’s scaring the officers around them. it’s almost enough to make him forget to kick his ass for the enormously shitty banter he’d had to endure vis-a-vis his still-bleeding ear throughout the entire tragically short fight.

almost. not quite. who even knew there was a ‘gay ear’?

#qui parle #qui ecrit #anon #todobaku #bnha #tdbk

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