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bratkook · 4 years ago

Text

not yet. jjk

not yet, almost, right now pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, some angst, pg-13 word count. 4.1k warnings. mentions of infidelity, some feelings come to light, unrequited pining, spur of the moment kissing, light grinding on the dance floor, jungkook pops a boner and wants to cry</3 summary. jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship note. this is based off a request sent a while back for numbers #43 and #67 from this prompt list! (i think this might turn into a small drabble series...mayhaps)

Jungkook can spot your discomfort easily, the occasional colorful light bouncing off your face showing him the flash of anger in your eyes. The only reason he’s not currently running for the hills, knowing very well how mean you can get when angry, is because your glare isn’t being sent at him. Not yet at least.

Because of this, he allows himself to enjoy the cute way your nose scrunches up, lips twisting in displeasure as you stare at the crowd of people, eyes locked onto an unlucky bystander. Honestly, he wishes he could hear your thoughts, wanting to know exactly what has your panties in a bunch, ruining your mood instead of letting you enjoy the expensive fruity drink he had just bought you as payment for allowing him to drag you out of the house. Jungkook isn’t a mind reader though, so he decides on his next best option.

“Who’s got you looking all sour?” he sighs, resting his elbow on the counter of the bar as he inches closer to you, head at your level in an attempt to match your line of sight.

“Him,” you seethe, brows pinching together, showing those light wrinkles in between them, a product of how expressive you were and definitely something Jungkook always teases you about.

Jungkook can only hum in question, eyes squinting in the low light as he attempts to find the him you’re talking about. With a slight turn of your head, you’re inches from Jungkook’s cheek, the obvious look of confusion etched onto his soft features letting you know he was absolutely lost. With a soft huff your fingers are gripping his cheeks and moving his face in the right direction, free hand pointing as discreetly as you could to the man in question.

You know he spots him, you can feel his jaw tense underneath your grip. What you don’t feel is the sudden guilt that fills him up, sloshing in his stomach and mixing with the liquor he just drank until he feels a little queasy. Jungkook instantly regrets coaxing you out of your little dungeon with the promise of cheering you up. If he had known the spawn of satan–dubbed your ex boyfriend and also the reason why you were in a downward spiral–would be here, he would have just let you rot in your bed like you originally wanted.

“Do you wanna go?” he mutters out, cheeks still squished by your slowly tightening grip, and he begins to accept the fact that you might just break his jaw right now. It’s fine, he thinks, he deserves it.

“No,” you grunt stubbornly, fingers finally releasing him as you turn back around and choose to face the endless amount of bottles behind the bar. He may be the reason you were currently on a never ending cycle of watching sad, heartbreaking chick-flicks from the early 2000’s, dumping you with the lame excuse that you two were on different paths and he just wasn’t ready for commitment. It’s something you accepted, albeit jaw tense and eye twitching as you did so, but you figured you would eventually find your way back to each other.

Your mind was warped, believing you were meant to be, that this was just a mere bump in the road that you would laugh at together in the future.

That is, until he blocked you on all social media, and you had to hear from your best friend that he had moved on days later and was now with some blonde-haired, fresh faced, supermodel-esque woman that you could not get yourself to hate. Instead you took to endlessly scrolling through her instagram while you stuffed your face with milk chocolate and questioned why you had ever convinced yourself that you had a future with him.

“Good, he’s a dick and you shouldn’t let him ruin your night.” Jungkook grumbles, slinging his arm around you as you hold your forgotten drink by your lips. He had seen your relationship with Hajoon play out from the very beginning, knowing slightly more intimate details than he would like considering you were next door neighbors and happened to share a wall between your bedrooms.

The friendship you had with Jungkook blossomed right after you moved in four years ago, friendly neighborly talks morphing into actual conversations, and eventually inviting each other into your apartments where you would attempt to beat him at any game you had in your Nintendo switch. It was a great dynamic, providing the two of you with a sense of relief after your busy days at work.

Unfortunately, the second you got with Hajoon was the end of any of those playful matches, your ex’s jealousy making you distance yourself in an attempt to keep your relationship at bay.

Jungkook can’t say he didn’t see it coming, having heard the way you’d cry anytime you had an argument and your ex would leave, slamming the door behind him so hard Jungkook’s walls would rattle. It had become such a common occurence it was a shock he hadn’t marched out of his house, met Hajoon in the hall, and gave him a clean right hook in your honor.

He was secretly hoping you’d break up with the jerk for your own good–and maybe for his own personal reasons too. Your ex was right in being wary of Jungkook, knowing the way a boy's mind worked, sensing Jungkook’s feelings for you in a way you were too blind to see. Jungkook wasn’t a dick though, he could tell you wanted your relationship to work so he kept his distance.

When weeks went by without the sight of him he began to think you finally did it, a call for celebration that made him want to go over to your place to challenge you for a friendly match of Mario Kart like you used to.

Until he ran into you in the hall and took note of what a mess you were, his smile falling from his face when he saw how defeated you looked.

Your shameful confirmation that you had been royally dumped made his heart twist for you, his selfless tendencies urging him to help you feel better in any way he could. You were thankful for it, grateful that he was keeping you company while you moped around, providing you with just the right amount of distraction to allow you to breathe and slowly heal.

Honestly, today would have been just another day if it wasn’t what was supposed to be your two year anniversary. The second Jungkook heard the telltale sounds of The Notebook starting up in your bedroom—something he hadn’t heard through the drywall separating your rooms in weeks—is when he knew something was up.

Jump to: now.

With Jungkook looking sheepish and wishing he had chosen another bar, and you gripping the cup so hard it was a shock it hadn’t shattered in your grasp.

“He’s with her,” you whisper out harshly, head downcast, swirling the liquid around in your glass as you force yourself not to look back at them. The vision of them coddled up in the corner, her arms wrapped around his while she laughed at whatever he whispered in her ear had stung enough the first time, you weren’t jealous but the pain still lingered inside of you..

“Just try to ignore him. Don’t let it bother you,” he attempts to reassure you, the bass of the music muffling the way you try to deny the fact that you’re clearly upset, his attention now elsewhere.

Jungkook takes a chance and looks back once more, eyes narrowed as he searches for Hajoon in the crowd. He spots him with more ease the second time, seeing the way he lazily drinks from his glass while the blonde rests her head on his shoulder, lips moving as she tells him something that makes him smile.

“Oh shit,” Jungkook chokes, eyes widening slightly in shock when Hajoon meets his gaze. He’s been caught, too late for him to avert his eyes and pretend he wasn’t blatantly staring. He can only give him a tight-lipped smile that he hopes doesn’t come across as an invitation to come say hello.

“What?” you question, turning to stare at Jungkook and seeing the look on his face, doe eyes swirling with a mix of emotions.

“He saw me,” he speaks through clenched teeth, lips barely moving as he does so, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

“What?” you repeat harshly, setting the drink back down as your palms grow clammy, finger tugging at your shirt’s neckline when the air becomes thick and stuffy.

“Oh fuck, he’s coming.” Jungkook throws back the remainder of his drink, grimacing at the burn lingering in the back of his throat before placing the cup down. “Just follow along,” he whispers into your ear, standing tall as Hajoon approaches the two of you.

He’s ballsy, Jungkook will give him that, more so when he completely ignores Jungkook in favor of calling out your name.

“Y/N, oh my god is that you?”

Jungkook can’t stop the way he glares at the bastard, not even the small jab to his side that you deliver with your elbow is enough to wipe the look off his face. Still, you pause to breathe, shutting your eyes briefly before plastering a look of surprise on your features as you turn around to face him.

“Hajoon, what are you doing here?” Your voice has risen a few octaves, pitch surpassing the normal customer service voice and entering unhinged and borderline crazed territory. Hajoon doesn’t notice though, and neither does the girl strapped to his side, the two of them smiling at you and not giving Jungkook a glance.

“Oh, we’re just celebrating our four month anniversary.” The girl finally speaks up, giving Hajoon a kiss to the cheek and completely missing the way your face instantly falls. Her innocent statement has you coming to the sudden realization that this son of a bitch had been cheating on you for the last two months of your relationship.

Jungkoon spots it easily though, can sense the way your body tenses up beside him, no doubt will the rage flare up in the form of hot tears spilling over and onto your cheeks soon. One look at Hajoon’s pleased face is enough to not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the way he affects you.

“Young love,” Jungkook sighs, long arm pulling you into his side obnoxiously, seeing the way Hajoon eyes the two of you carefully. “I can relate. We’ve been together for...what is it again babe, five months?”

Hajoon doesn’t even attempt to be discreet, eyes bulging out and fist curling at his side. He had hated Jungkook the second he met him, intimidated by his physique and the way he made you laugh with ease, threatened by him in every sense. It was the reason he told you to cut ties with him, his fragile ego not trusting your neighbor, fully convinced all Jungkook would have to do was beckon you over for you to leave him.

Any man would feel threatened by him, just looking at him now with his long hair framing his face, the challenging glimmer in his eyes as he gauges the other’s reaction. Hajoon follows Jungkook’s arm, seeing how it snakes around your body and settles with his palms curling around your waist, fingers gently squeezing your skin.

Jungkook chuckles when Hajoon meets his gaze once more, free hand adjusting the yellow tinted sunglasses perched on his head—something that should make him look like an A class douchebag, because who the hell brings shades to a fucking club. But like all things, Jungkook makes it work.

All of this tied in with that small, white lie, makes Hajoon’s head spin in a jealous whirlwind. It was fine and dandy if he cheated on you but how dare you give him the same treatment, with your neighbor of all people.

“Five months?” He bites first, eyes bouncing back and forth between the two of you.

The insecurity is written all over his face, it almost makes him shrink in size and for some reason it fills you with confidence. You stand taller now, sliding your own arm around Jungkook’s side as you nuzzle into him.

“Almost six.” Those two words are the nails into his coffin of insecurity, probably increasing his trust issues for years to come, but considering it was no longer your problem, you don’t care.

“Wow, almost half a year. That’s so cute, isn’t it?” His girlfriend coos, perfectly manicured hand placed over her chest, totally missing the way Hajoon looks like a kicked puppy.

Now that he doesn’t have the one up, he’s no longer interested in sticking around, the gross green monster perched on his shoulder laughing at his misfortune.

“Adorable,” he grunts out. “We should get back to our table. It was nice seeing you.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before walking away, his girlfriend giving you a small wave before following behind him. The growing distance between you makes your muscles relax, sagging in relief as you release Jungkook’s side and hunch over the sticky bar.

“I think I'm gonna puke,” you groan out, eyes going crossed when you feel Jungkook rest two fingers against your lips, sending him a questionable stare.

“Please don’t, that drink was expensive. You’re only allowed to hurl as the grand finale of the night, and we’re just getting started.”

Jungkook smiles when you shut your eyes and groan, your mood was already down in the dumps, and despite the small rush you got from putting Hajoon in his place, you were still craving the comfort of your bed. “Can we go?”

The bartender proceeds to place a glass of water in front of you, assuming your slumped state was due to intoxication and not the gross remnants of running into an ex-boyfriend. You grab the glass regardless, taking a big gulp of the cool liquid and sighing when it helps calm you down.

“If you really want to go we can, but at least try to loosen up.” His smile is genuine, cheeks pushed out as he looks down at you with kind eyes. “We’ll stay on the opposite side, and if you’d still rather watch the Notebook for the millionth time, we can do that.”

With a half-hearted groan you nod, allowing Jungkook to order another round of drinks for you to enjoy before eventually dragging you out onto the dance floor. He knows how to keep the atmosphere up, goofy smile on his lips as he bobs his head along to the loud beat, hands clasped with yours and wiggling in time to the music.

“You love this song,” he manages to say through the noise, pulling you closer as he settles into a spot on the decently packed floor. You couldn’t even deny it, he heard just how often you played it through the paper thin walls. That playlist full of hit 2000’s songs was your guilty pleasure, and it was the main reason he had decided to bring you to this club on their themed night.

Jungkook was attentive, he knew so much about you and played it off casually, always listening to things you say you enjoy, storing them into a folder labeled under your name and shoved into a very important part of his brain.

You knew he was trying his best to get you to enjoy yourself, so you give in, beginning to sing along to the lyrics of an old song that brought back a flood of memories that made you smile back at him. Jungkook feels the first burst of success bloom inside him, joining in with your singing, raising up your clasped hands as you begin dancing.

The smile doesn’t leave his face as he stares down at you, the few drinks you’ve had loosening you up and allowing you to push the earlier thoughts away. He feels mesmerized, eyes locked onto you, the flash of colors painting your skin, illuminating you in alternating shades of purple and blue. His heart does that annoying thing where it skips and stutters in his chest, mouth drying up as you drop your head back and sway your hips, slowly loosening the grip in your hands and turning around until your back is dangerously close to his chest.

Jungkook’s hands hover in the air for a moment, panic over taking his brain as he tries to remain calm. He could do this—he has done this before—the two of you would go clubbing before you got with your ex, and dancing definitely played a big part of it. So why was his brain short circuiting?

Sure your ass was brushing up against his crotch with each sway of your hips, but you were dancing, so his mind and his dick could fuck right off. He shakes his head to clear any dirty thoughts as his hands loosely grip your hips, testing the water, and when you smile and look back at him he feels less wary and sways his hips in time with yours.

You can feel his chest brush against your back, breath fanning along your skin from his close proximity, only getting closer when you lift an arm back and hold his shoulder to pull him tighter against you. The heat sticks to your skin, thin shirt dampening with sweat from the warmth of the bodies around you, everyone in their own state of drunkenness as the bass flowed through their chests.

Going out like this had been something you missed, used to frequenting the bars and clubs by your apartment with your friends and Jungkook, something that came to a halt because your ex claimed he hated that kind of scene. Something that was clearly a lie considering he was here now, enjoying himself as him and his new girlfriend danced along.

You didn’t realize when he made his way onto the dance floor, enough distance separating you, but now that you had spotted him you feel like he’s way too close for comfort. In a similar position to you and Jungkook, Hajoon is free to look around while his girlfriend dances on him, eyes locked onto you with a smirk that makes your skin crawl.

Jungkook is too lost in the music to notice where your attention has gone, earlier effects of the alcohol settling into his bloodstream, warming him up in that familiar way he welcomes. When the song changes, flowing into the next bass heavy anthem, you turn around in his grasp, giving him a brief glance before your hands are gripping his cheeks and bringing him down into a messy kiss.

This is definitely something he’s never done with you before.

A muffled sound of confusion is swallowed by you as he quickly falls into the motion, large palms gripping your hips, slowly sliding up your back before lightly tangling into your hair to deepen the kiss. Jungkook can taste the liquor on your tongue, mixing with his own as your tongue slips between his lips. He has no idea what came over you but his racing heart and buried crush don’t let him question it, soft lips smacking with yours, not heard between the thrumming music.

Your fingers feel the warmth of his cheeks, how he blushes into the kiss but you attribute it to the alcohol pumping through him. Harsh breaths fan across your face as he groans, lightly pulling back for a gasp of air but you don’t allow it. “No, don’t pull away. Not yet.”

And who is he to argue with that, blindly letting you bring your lips back together in a messy kiss. Your small pleas for him to continue has all the blood rushing to his cock, the ache felt in his jeans when it starts to harden, pressing into the denim uncomfortably and only getting worse when you gently bite down onto his lip before inching back.

“Is he still looking?” you question, breath jagged as you peer up at Jungkook’s dazed expression.

“What?” he dumbly replies, lips swollen and shiny, eyes still focused on your own as he makes an attempt to reconnect your lips. But then your question dawns on him, like a bucket of ice cold water, it sobers him up instantly. Is he still looking?

This was all for show.

“He’s on the far right.” You motion your head in the direction and observe his face when his eyes move over to check if Hajoon was in fact still there. He does spot him heading out in a hurry though, girlfriend trailing behind him as he exits the club entirely

“No, just saw him leave.” Jungkook clears his throat, fingers slipping out of your hair and settling down over your back just like before. He hopes his solemn expression isn’t amplified by the lights flashing across his face, trying his best to act unaffected, as if he didn’t just pop a boner on the dance floor over a revenge make-out session.

Luckily you don’t spot his fallen expression, a wide smile spreading across your face in victory, happy that you had successfully put him in his place.

“I’m so sorry for kissing you.” You gasp in realization, unknowingly pouring salt in the wound when you act as if kissing him was something you would never do if it wasn’t in an attempt to piss off your ex.

“No, it’s okay,” he waves off and smiles, eyes glancing over to the bar once more. Jungkook needed a drink, maybe five—actually he wouldn’t mind going home and watching The Notebook now, that would surely give him a reason to cry with no questions asked.

He starts to walk back to the bar with you by his side, the sad look you had earlier entirely gone, replaced with a giddy smile and a pep in your step, so he can’t say he's too upset.

“God, you should’ve seen how mad he looked when he saw us dancing together,” you giggle, standing inches from him as he orders another drink. Before he can respond, you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him in for a hug.

A hug, really?

Still, Jungkook sighs and wraps his own arms around your waist, a defeated smile on his face that he hides as he lets his chin rest over your head. The dip in his head makes the yellow tinted frames fall over his eyes and when he pulls back you snort at the visual, finger gently poking the bridge of them.

“You look good in those.”

His drink gets placed in front of him then, giving him a good excuse to avoid stumbling over his words from your compliment, choosing to take a gulp of the hard liquor, wincing when it burns his throat. “Thank you,” he rasps out, grimacing at the taste and it just makes you giggle.

“I should be thanking you. You need to be my fake boyfriend more often.”

Even more salt poured into his wound, topped with a dash of lemon juice in the form of your playful smile and nudge to his ribs, it stings. His heart ache in his chest, more so when he realizes his stupid boner was still going strong. Thankfully the dark lights prevent you from seeing it, the last thing he needed was further embarrassment.

The yellow frames are placed back over his head as he takes another sip, nodding along to your statement with what he hopes comes across as a genuine smile on his lips once he sets his cup down. “Anytime you want Y/N.”

“I know this night didn’t end with the grand finale of me puking, but do you wanna go home and watch movies? No sappy romance ones, I'm not in the mood for crying anymore.”

He finishes his drink with ease, quickly closing his tab as he agrees. “Yeah, just let me go to the bathroom real quick.”

You might not be in the mood for crying but he definitely was; he also needed to handle the situation in his jeans, and what better night to stoop this low than tonight. His own version of a grand finale coming in the form of jerking off in the dirty bar bathroom while maybe shedding a tear or two.

“Okay! I’ll call an uber,” you announce cheerfully, allowing him to walk away as you settle onto one of the sticky bar stools.

Jungkook’s chest feels heavy as he walks to the bathroom, slipping into the small room and locking the door behind him. His forehead rests against the dirty door, eyes falling shut with a groan. He wishes he had the guts to confess to his crush, needing to push the fear of ruining the friendship away from his mind, wanting to gather possible clues that could indicate that you might feel the same.

One day, but not yet.

#ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #heartsforbts #btsghostie #bangtaninn #btscreatorscorner #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts fluff #jeon jungkook #bts imagines #new

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luimagines · 3 years ago

Note

Do time or the other links smoke? Or drink? Or do some kind of drugs? I mean when your out heroing you're going to get alot of traum

Something they all at least somewhat have to try and take the edg off or do they have other ways of coping? I am sorry if this sounds like an ask,i was more along the lines trying to get your speculation on the matter

Masterlist

I see what you're saying and I do think that some of them would have had bad habits in the past but yeah-

They do need some time to take the edge off and refocus themselves in the present, but how do they do that in a healthy and safe way?

Let's talk about that.

I don't think I have all the necessary tags so go forth at your own discretion.

Time

Time would have definitely had a drinking problem that would have started in his Termina days.

He's never really felt the need to drink though- he only found that it would have kept him from going crazy.

But as he got out of there and talked more to Malon (and have his supply cut off- (just because he knew where to get it in Termina doesn't mean he knows where to get it in Hyrule, (nor would they give it to him, even if he did))), I like to think that he would have had to find other ways to calm himself down and think rationally through his thoughts and desires.

It happens by accident.

He was working at Lon Lon Ranch when he needed to go chop some wood and he found the repetitive and strenuous work, soothing.

He felt good. Accomplished even.

And a little disappointed when he was finished.

But he started doing that whenever he could and it became his main way to not only blow off some steam but to also calm himself down.

It helps with his anxiety and his need to help feel useful even when nothing is really happening that would require his assistance.

Twilight

Twilight finds that manual labor actually makes his anxiety worse.

He can't really find it within himself to get lost in it because he's already programmed for that to be a part of his day to day life anyway. So his brain can still go on and on even as he gets his chores done.

Twilight finds that a secluded spot with little distraction works best.

He's never really dabbled in other ways to deal with it nor has it come to his mind.

All he knew one say was that everything was too much and that he needed to be in a different area entirely.

No people, no noise.

He likes to hang out by small creeks or by the lake and fish if he really needs an excuse to do something.

Bonus points if he can rest with one of his favorite goats nearby, but that's few and far in between.

It's less meditation and more taking in the moment and letting time slip by for a change.

No to do lists, no action, no survival, no need to be on the run.

Just breath.

Warrior

Warrior would have smoked during the war but I don’t think he’d actually tolerate it all that well. I feel like he’d be more inclined to drink away his problems but with shortages left and right, and all efforts going into the war, there just wouldn’t be enough to go around.

So he’d smoke and hate it.

But it worked in a pinch.

Afterwards, whether through Mask’s and Wind’s influence or the end of the war, he’d want to find a way to quit.

It wasn’t easy but I feel like Warrior would attempt to quit cold turkey. Just drop the habit completely and what does he do when he feels the need arise again?

It’s actually little said than done, but he paints.

It’s less with ink and paint and more so, just moving his hands and a brush around.

If he happens to have a canvas it’s better but again, not easy to come around.

So what Warrior ends up doing most of the time, is taking a brush and some homemade ink from berries and brushing it over his scars. His favorite spot is the massive burn covering his left arm left behind as a gift from the Dragon Knight.

It feels tingly and electric, static follows the brush and the muscles clench with energy from the contact but while it’s uncomfortable for a while, it’s also not entirely unpleasant and it’s soothing to watch and feel. And it grounds Warrior in the moment until he no longer feels the urge.

When the urge is gone, he still does it when he feel anxious and concerned. Late at night is typical time for him to do this, where no one would see him or his scars and judge him for it.

Sky

Sky in the beginning would have slept more than he did before.

He was already inclined to fall asleep easily before all of his trauma, but afterwards he seemed to lose motivation to continue with the idea that things would go back to normal. There was still a lot of expectation placed on his shoulders and it was frankly not something he wanted to deal with.

So he sleeps.

Now this turns into more of a problem with being able to stay awake and to stay concentrated. It’s hard for him to pay attention to anything beyond him and that won’t do, considering me still has to finish his schooling.

What Sky does more often than not to keep him tethered to the present moment is work with his hands. He’s already had the tools for wood whittling but he was never allowed to use them in class and it ends being a bigger mess sometimes than he’s willing to deal with in general.

Sky also has some small pockets of clay that he fidgets with to keep his hands moving and he can keep it under his desk so that it’s not that distracting in class.

It helps him focus and when he thinks about what he’s been through and what he plans to do next, it keeps him from getting overwhelmed.

Wild

I think Wild would have just gone silent and unmoving when he’s having a bad day.

Kind of similar to how he gets when’s trapped in a memory but for longer and he doesn’t eat or sleep. It could last days at a time. He doesn’t even move unless he’s prompted or dragged to the spot.

The lights are on but no one’s home you know.

There’s not a lot he can do when it happens. Everyone just has to wait for it to pass and hope that it passes quickly.

But Wild gets better with time to know the signs when of one of those days is coming.

It’s not much, but Wild like to hop on the back of his horse and just take off.

Feel the rushing wind on his face and through his hair. He’s a full gallop for a while until the poor horse gets tired. At that point he just goes to the nearest stable and exchanges horses to do the whole thing over again.

Sometimes, when that’s not enough, he’ll go base jumping from as high as he can get even using Revali’s Gale to get higher and free fall. Wild is pretty good at catching himself with his paraglider at the last moment and he likes to see all of Hyrule when as he reaches the ground again.

It reminds him that he’s done a lot of good, that he’s capable of doing more good and that life isn’t over just one ended.

Four

Unsurprisingly, sometimes Four gets too lost in his own for his own good.

He’s got a lot to think about and very little way to get it out.

Four would actually throw himself into his work to try and distract himself from the memories, the anxiety, and the guilt of not being enough time and time again even if he saved the day in the end.

This doesn’t help.

He gets so lost into it, in his attempt to stop thinking all together that he completely goes into autopilot and over works himself. Not in the sense that he pulls a muscle and has to take it easy or end up sore and tired and regrets it. No, no. What I mean is that he’ll keep working for days on end.

No sleep.

No food.

Little water.

No fresh air.

It ends up being a hard habit for him to break. Especially since he finds himself continuously trying to fall into a blank mindset even while he actually works to get commissions done.

So what Four has to do is find something else to do. Four more or less always has to have his hands moving, so it’s hard for him to put something down and not working on it.

He likes jigsaw puzzles, he likes to read, but he also likes to make stuff.

So in the end, when Four feel a little overwhelmed and feels himself slip into a self deprivational state, he’ll stop and goes inside his house to do a smaller project.

So he bakes, he knits, he does his puzzels. It’s enough for him to feel productive still but quick enough for him to stay present and make sure he’s still taking care of himself until the restlessness passes.

Wind

Wind doesn’t really have bad habits. He’s still young and processing his adventures.

I’m sure there’s alcohol on the pirate ship because pirates. But I don’t think he’d like it as much as some people want to write him.

Like, sure, a cup or two ain’t bad but I just can’t see Wind having a drinking problem. At least not now as everything stands.

In a few years it’s might be something he would need to be on the look out for if he’s aware enough but he was quite grasped the full implications of his position and trauma yet.

Because he’s just a kid.

He won’t know how twisted what happened to him was until he gets older and can he the age outside of his own mindset.

Wind has nightmares though and they’re ties when he gets memories that he doesn’t want to deal with at the moment- or ever again.

In the moment he thinks of his home, his grandma and his sister instead.

He thinks of his friends, both old and new.

The chain help with distracting him and he’s not above using them for the distraction when he feels that he needs one.

Wind also stretches a lot.

When he was with Warrior, he got into some of the drills they were teaching the soldiers and for some of the nimble ones, they had to start with stretches and he likes it.

So when it gets particularly bad, he throws himself through the motions and holds the poses for a bit longer than necessary.

So yoga. He does yoga.

And it centers him, it clears his head and he feels better after.

Legend

Legend screams.

Legend cries.

Legend will go on a rampage and destroy a whole forest if he’s having a particularly hard day.

Sometimes he’ll go find something big and scary just to fight it.

Blacksmithing is more a hobby for him at this point because it’s not something he can actually see himself doing in the future. It’s just to pass the time and help the day’s go by a little faster.

Legend likes to draw and when he’s tired after throwing whatever tantrum has taken over him, he’d go to a quiet spot and draw whatever he sees.

Sometimes, when he’s paying more attention to himself and he can feel himself getting frustrated and anxious, he takes a few days off.

He leaves his house and his items and goes up a mountain to think with some food, a notebook and some pencils.

He takes up map making.

Legend doesn’t think he’s any good at it, but with al the places he’s been, he tries to make a map for them by memory incase anyone he knows or will meet decides to visit.

His most carefully crafted map is of Koholint for... reasons.

It’s takes him an age and a half and he’s still not done with it, trying to get as much of it onto the paper as he can remember before he grows old and loses them entirely within his memory.

It’s a calming project he finds. He doesn’t feel sad when he does this for Marin for the people and their memory. It keeps them alive in his heart and sometimes he draws something on the map that doesn’t quite fit into his memory about the island but something tells him to keep it because it was there. Because he was only a visitor to their home.

The locals would know.

He feels good keeping them alive in some way.

It’s what she they would have wanted.

It’s what she they deserve.

She They always wanted to travel and it’s better to have a map to do so.

He takes up map making.

Hyrule

I don’t think Hyrule’s... Hyrule has a lot of these methods to go around. He wouldn’t have been exposed to drugs or alcohol simply because there’s too little people for him to interact with.

And if he was, I don’t think he’s use them as a coping mechanism simply because they would be too difficult obtain and gather to be sufficient.

I think that Hyrule would actually hang out with a Great Fairies by her pool when times got particularly rough.

There’s something about the place that resonates with him and feels calming, safe and relaxing to him.

As a bonus he’s always welcomed so he can pop in and stay for days at a time if he ever needed to.

He does not stay there for days.

But he appreciates the offer.

Hyrule doesn’t stay for more than few hours at a time because he doesn’t want to attract any monsters to his safe spots but even if the fairies don’t use any magic on him, he’s always rejuvenated afterwards and he feel like he can take on anything.

And given the world he comes from- it’s needed.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #I know this wasn't really a request either #and I did say they were clsoed #but this was already going to get long #and it's more headcanons again #so into the queue it goes #bad habits #tw alchoholism #tw anxiety #tw smoking #tw addiction #pinky replies #pinky answers

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theladyofdeath · 3 years ago

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Life As We Know It {Chapter 14}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby’s blogs! >>@snelbz

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Cassian was up far before Nesta, but that was to be expected.

He had worn her out, after all.

In all honesty, though, she had worn him out, too. And he sure as hell wasn’t complaining.

It had taken him a while to fall asleep the night before, to fully digest everything that had happened between the two of them. He didn’t regret it, not for a second, but it was…strange. Nesta Archeron was the last woman he thought he’d find himself in such a situation with.

It had been a pleasant surprise, to say the least. Even when he had finally fallen asleep, it was all he dreamt about.

His hands on her body.

The little sounds that fell from her lips.

The feeling of his mouth against hers.

The feeling of being inside of her.

Dressing, he crept downstairs, not wanting to wake her, and made a pot of coffee. Sitting at the kitchen table, he ran a hand through his messy hair.

Cassian had no idea what was going to come this morning. Was she going to pretend it never happened? Was she going to be mad or say that it was a mistake?

He sure as hell hadn’t thought it was a mistake. He’d loved every minute of the night they’d shared, but he knew that a line had been crossed between them.

He was going to let her decide what would come next.

It wasn’t two minutes after Cassian pulled a pan of crispy bacon out of the oven, he heard a door open at the top of the stairs. He smirked, but felt a sense of dread as footsteps slowly descended towards the kitchen.

Nesta appeared, dressed in long-sleeved flannel pajamas. She stopped in the doorway and cleared her throat.

“I made breakfast,” Cassian said, gesturing to the display on the countertop.

“Thanks,” Nesta said, scratching the back of her head.

“Care to join me at the table?” he asked.

Nesta hesitated, then nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”

Cassian said nothing more as he made her a plate, then himself one, and carried them to the table. He was already popping a piece of bacon into his mouth when Nesta sat.

“So,” Cassian began. “How are you?”

“Good,” Nesta answered, a little too quickly. “You?”

“Good,” Cassian said, nodding.

Silence ensued.

They ate quietly. Cassian glanced at Nesta from time to time. Nesta did the same. Eventually, Cassian dropped his fork on his plate and ran a hand through his hair.

“Alright, this is ridiculous,” he said.

Nesta raised a brow. “What is?”

“This awkwardness,” Cassian said, laughing quietly. “I mean, we fucked, right?”

Nesta nearly choked on a piece of bacon. “We….”

“Had sex,” Cassian finished. “We did, and you know what? It was good. But when we went to bed, it was awkward. And this morning? Still awkward. Why is it awkward?”

“Because we had drunk sex,” she said, laughing, despite herself. “We got drunk and we hooked up, like horny teenagers and…” She shook her head, and looked up at him. And she burst out laughing.

“And we’re adults,” he said, laughing along with her. “We made that choice. I liked that choice. I’d make that choice again.”

Nesta’s laughter quieted. “I know. I don’t either, but…”

Cassian took a drink of his coffee, smirking. “Was it not the best sex of your life?”

Nesta began blushing, and she bit her lip as she moved the eggs around her plate. “I plead the fifth.”

“That’s a cop-out answer,” Cassian said, his mouth full.

Nesta laughed. “So what?”

Cassian’s grin said plenty. “Fair enough. I mean, it was a one time thing, right?”

“Right,” Nesta said, without any hesitation. “So, there’s no need to feel awkward, right?”

“Right,” Cassian agreed. “We were letting off some steam, some stress, and now we’re fine.”

“Exactly,” Nesta said, scooping up a mouthful of eggs.

That silence resumed.

A few minutes later, Nesta said, “It was pretty good, though.”

Cassian chuckled. “Oh, I know.”

She kicked his shin beneath the table.

His grin widened.

“What do you have going on today?” Cassian asked, at last.

“Work,” Nesta answered, simply. “You’ll pick Nyx up?”

“I will,” he promised.

“Great,” she said, taking a drink of her coffee. She glanced at the clock and jumped to her feet. “Shit, I need to go get ready.”

“Go,” he chuckled, shooing her off. “I’ll handle the kitchen.”

She glanced around at the room, which was still a wreck from the night before. Her bikini top was looped over one of the drawer pulls and she blushed.

She couldn’t believe it.

She had sex with Cassian, her sworn enemy for years.

And the most surprising thing of all? She had liked it.

A lot.

He hadn’t been lying when he said it would be the best sex of her life. There was no comparison, whatsoever.

Even waking up after a fantastic night of sleep, Nesta still felt amazing. She was relaxed, albeit a bit sore. Nearly giddy.

And all because of Cassian.

Since the accident, Nesta hadn’t spent nearly as much time at the restaurant as she usually did. And not nearly as often as she liked. Her staff had absolutely understood that she needed to get accustomed to her new life and how things worked, but as she hurried between the dining room and the kitchen, she couldn’t help but feel like she was in a bit over her head.

Granted, her mind kept trailing back to the activities she’d had the night before, which flustered her to no end every time she thought about them. She was staring at an open laptop in front of her, the PDF of the new menu staring back, when she heard a throat clearing from the doorway of her office.

She glanced up and found Helion standing there. He was her general manager and made sure everything ran smoothly when she wasn’t there, and he was a blessing in her life.

“What’s up?”

He looked around before slipping into the chair across the desk from her. “You going to tell me what’s got you spacing out so badly today that you mixed fresh salmon into the chicken salad base?”

Nesta cringed, but tried not to show it. “I wanted to try a new recipe. If it bombs, it bombs.”

Helion lifted a brow, not believing her lie for a second.

“What?” Nesta asked.

“Did the walk of shame this morning, did you?” He asked, a familiar mischievous glint in his eye.

Nesta hesitated. “Is it still a walk of shame if you never leave your house?”

Helion’s brows furrowed but then the dots connected. His mouth fell open as his eyes widened. “You fucked the hot uncle?”

Nesta groaned, her face falling into her hands.

Helion had no sympathy. He asked, “Is he the one that’s sitting at the bar asking for you?”

Nesta’s hands fell and she met Helion’s eye.

Helion shrugged. “Didn’t think I just came back here to chat, did you?”

“I…” Nesta was up before she could even think through what she might say to him, rounding her desk and hurrying towards the front of the restaurant.

She wasn’t sure if Cassian’s mid-day appearance was a good thing or not. On one hand, he may have stopped by with Nyx after picking him up from Elain’s. On the other, what if something was wrong? What if Nyx had had a bad night or something had happened? Her steps slowed and she paused before she left the kitchens, taking a deep breath.

Nothing was wrong. She wouldn’t accept any other answer. Tucking her loose hair behind an ear, she pushed through the door.

But she didn’t find Cassian sitting at the bar.

It was Balthazar, whose brown eyes she met and her smile faltered, but only a little. She had it back in place before he had time to notice.

“Figured out how I recognized you,” he said, as she approached from the other side of the bar.

“I see that,” she laughed, softly.

“Turns out I come here often,” he continued, his smile growing. “Turns out, so do you.”

“I would say I make an appearance here from time to time,” she agreed. “So, stop in for lunch?”

“I had the day off,” he explained, shrugging. “Errand day.”

She was just now noticing the designer sweatpants and hoodie he wore. His sneakers alone probably cost a couple hundred dollars.

Apparently the rumors were true…

Doctors made good money.

“And this was on your list?” Nesta asked.

Bal chuckled. “Well, last night I got to thinking that I’ve seen you here once or twice. It just clicked. So, I googled the restaurant, and, believe it or not, the owner’s picture is on the website.”

“Huh,” Nesta chimed. “Funny.”

“Mhmm,” Balthazar crooned. “I thought so. So, I thought I’d come visit and, yeah, maybe stay for lunch.”

“Well, lucky for you, the lunch special of the day is the prime dip, and I must say that it’s absolutely delicious,” Nesta said.

He closed the menu on the bar top in front of him. “Sounds perfect.”

“Give me just a minute to get that for you, and I’ll be right back. Can I get you something to drink?” She asked, sliding the menu below the bar.

“Drink drink or just to drink?” He asked and his smile did strange things to her stomach.

“Oh, I don’t have a liquor license,” she said, scrunching her nose. Too many hoops to jump through, but she would have loved to serve wine with her food. The pairings she would come up with were tempting. “Water, your everyday sodas, and homemade fruit teas.”

“Fruit tea, huh?” He tapped a contemplative finger against his chin.

She couldn’t have stopped the grin if she tried. “Has that piqued your interest?”

“Depends on what flavors you have,” he said, folding his arms across the bar. “I’m very choosy about my fruit tea.”

She laughed, quietly. “Mango, raspberry, strawberry, and passion fruit.”

“Passion fruit,” he repeated. “I like the sound of that.”

“Okay,” Nesta said, quietly with a little smile she couldn’t stop, and hurried back to the kitchen.

Helion was waiting for her behind the swinging door, grinning from ear to ear.

“Not him,” Nesta said, sweeping past him.

“Still handsome!” Helion called after her.

Nesta ignored him, not wanting to give him too much information on her current man-drama, even though she could tell he was far too invested in her private life.

After putting his order in, Nesta was heading back into her office and shutting herself inside, if only to shut out Helion.

When she had rounded the corner and saw it wasn’t Cassian, there was the tiniest bit of disappointment that she had to quickly push away. Then again, it also meant that everything had apparently gone okay with Nyx, which Nesta was happy about.

She and Cassian had been a one time thing.

Yes, they had called a truce, but it didn’t mean anything more than them being civil with one another. It meant co-parenting. Maybe even one day becoming something that resembled friends…but nothing more.

She tried to focus on the proof of the menu she was editing, tried to pay attention to the descriptions she typed out and the pictures she selected as focal points. But after she ended up choosing the wrong picture three times in a row, she closed her laptop and sighed, letting her face fall into her hands. She was distracted and she genuinely couldn’t tell if it was due to the man sitting out at the bar or if it was thanks to the one at home.

Balthazar’s order was up, and Nesta was delighted to find that someone, most likely Helion, had brought him his tea. When she set his plate down in front of him, his tongue swept across his bottom lip, and Nesta couldn’t help but notice.

“This looks amazing,” he said.

“And your tea?” Nesta asked.

“Pretty good,” he grinned.

Damn his smile. Every time he smiled, Nesta couldn’t help but smile back.

“Well, it was great seeing you,” Nesta said, and she meant it. “I should get back to work, though, I’m pretty booked.”

“Of course,” he said, understandingly. “I get it. I did want to ask you, though, if you were free on Saturday night?”

It was only a few nights away, and at first, Nesta hesitated, but then she thought it was ridiculous that she was hesitating, so she said, “Yeah, I’m free.”

“Good,” Bal said, cocking his head to the side. “How about that date, then?”

“I’ll have to check with Cassian,” she said, and when his eyebrows raised, she added hastily, “To make sure he doesn’t already have plans. It’s- We alternate who gets weekends off, and I made a deal with him last weekend.”

Balthazar nodded, and he took another sip of his tea. “Well, then you just let me know if Saturday will work and if not, we’ll figure out another day.”

She smiled and nodded. “Okay.” Nesta turned and was almost back to the door leading to the kitchen when she turned and said, “Lunch is on me today, by the way.”

His own smile was dazzling when he said, “My compliments to the chef.”

With a shy wave, though Nesta wasn’t sure she had a timid bone in her body, she was through the door and headed back to her office. Helion was on her heels a second later, trailing her through the doorway.

“One minute, you’re banging the hot uncle and the next, a Greek god asks you out on a date?” He said, his brows flicking up. “You apparently have fate on speed dial and I need you to give me her number.”

“Shut up,” she groaned, collapsing into her chair. “Don’t you have orders to help cook?”

He hummed quietly as he left her to her thoughts, but did as she said, finding his way back onto the grill line.

Nesta glanced over at the clock. Only two in the afternoon. It was going to be a long day.

Nyx blew a raspberry, landing a spray of sweet potato directly on Cassian’s face. His body stilled, but when Nyx started giggling, Cassian’s body quickly relaxed.

“Very funny,” he said, ruffling Nyx’s hair as he stood and went to the sink. After tearing a paper-towel off the roll, he held it under the faucet and wiped off his face.

The front door opened and closed.

“Hello?” Nesta called.

“Kitchen!” Cassian replied. “Nyx is making a mess!”

Nesta was in the kitchen in no time, hurrying to Nyx and kissing his chubby cheeks. “Hi, my love. I missed you. Yes, I did.”

Nyx babbled incoherently in response.

“How was your day?” Cassian asked, wiping off the last bit of potato from his eyebrow.

“Long,” she admitted. “Right before I was about to leave, a shipment of fresh ingredients came in that I needed to get stocked and inventoried.” She dumped a few of the strawberry-banana puffs into her hand and popped one of them into her mouth. “If I have to count another head of lettuce today, my head might explode.”

“Well, fortunately,” Cassian chuckled. “There are no heads of lettuce here for you to count.”

“Have you eaten yet?” She asked, heading for the fridge. “I’m starving.”

“There’s pizza on the way,” he said, attempting to get another spoonful of sweet potatoes into Nyx’s mouth. “I wasn’t sure when you’d be home, or if you’d feel like cooking.”

“You’re a blessing,” she sighed, and sat down at the kitchen table. She watched as Nyx continued to spray food into his face and chuckled quietly. “You want me to take over?”

“Nah,” he said, leaving the splattered sweet potato where it stuck to his face. “No need for both of us to get covered.”

“How gallant of you,” Nesta chuckled, opening the fridge and pulling out a can of Coca-Cola. She rarely did caffeine, but after the day she had, it was necessary. “I, um, did have a question for you.”

Cassian looked over his shoulder, brow raised.

Nesta couldn’t help but smile at the specks of sweet potato that covered his face.

“I was wondering if I could go out Saturday night,” Nesta said. “I mean, I know last weekend I went out, and I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness-.”

“With the doctor?” Cassian interrupted. His tone wasn’t hard, but it did seem uncertain, or another emotion that Nesta couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah,” Nesta began, cracking open her can. “He came by the restaurant today and asked me to dinner on Saturday night. I told him I’d have to talk to you about it first, since I said I’d have Nyx.”

“I see,” Cassian said, turning back to Nyx.

“If it’s an issue, if you have plans, I don’t mind telling him no-.”

“You should go,” Cassian said, shrugging. “I have no plans. I can stay here.”

She blinked, watching him. “You’re sure?”

“You sound like you don’t want me to be sure,” he said, glancing at her over his shoulder. “Are you looking for a reason to say no?”

“No,” she replied, quickly. “It’s just… After last night-.”

“We hooked up,” he shrugged. “We blew off some steam, in a very physical way. But that was that, and, like we said this morning, it was a one time thing, yeah?” She nodded. “Alright, then if you want to say yes, say yes. I can watch Nyx.”

She hesitated for a second, but her smile grew. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, and gave her a smile of his own. “Go relax for a bit, I’ll let you know when the pizza is here.”

She nodded and was about to head up the stairs, but she turned around, wiping the smeared baby food off his face and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, Cass.”

He mumbled something and waved her off, and she grabbed her phone from her purse before she hurried up to her room.

After changing out of her work clothes and into something far more comfier, she fell back on her bed and unlocked her phone.

Balthazar’s messages were soon pulled up, and Nesta was sending him a text.

Saturday sounds great. Pick me up at 7?

She didn’t wait for his response before tossing her phone aside and going through her nightly routine. She figured she would eat and call it a day.

She was beat.

After washing her face and pulling up her hair, Nesta walked back into her room just as her phone lit up on top of her comforter.

Balthazar.

I won’t be a second late.

#nessian #nesta #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #fanfic #fanfiction #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #shacmc lawki #collab #snelbz x tacmc #sjm

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tomthesoftie · 4 years ago

Text

her hidden crystal tears

❧ synopsis: keeping a relationship under covers isn’t an easy feat. when a popular, successful jock of a college, who has many obsessive fans, dates an average student, they decide that it’s better to keep their relationship secret due to safety reasons, but when the jock starts to become more ignorant of how their s/o is feeling, what might happen to their barely stable relationship?

❧ pairing: jock!tom x fem!reader

❧ genre: angst

❧ warnings: lots of angst (?), petty girl fights technically harassment, crying, pent-up emotions, unhealthy coping

❧ a/n: this is an unedited fic, as always and I didn’t know how to end it because I had two endings in mind. I might write both endings (angst and fluff) or maybe I’ll let you guys suffer lmao I’m kidding I originally was writing a blurb about the reader hiding their emotions/hiding their tears by feigning happiness, but I ended up writing like a 2500+ word fic lmao. also if some shit seems wack, it’s because I posted this on my phone.

alternate fluff ending here: let them flow

masterlist prompt list add yourself on my taglist!

Swerving through the large crowd, you found yourself a seat on the filled bleachers, squeezing to fit in the front rows to spot your boyfriend. Looking about, you located your brunette partner jogging into the field arms raised in the air, pointing towards the crowd you were hidden in. He waved his hand mindlessly, eyes scanning the ocean of screaming schoolmates and “fangirls.” His gaze finally fell on you, and his face lit up, bringing a pink haze to your cheeks as he blew a kiss in your direction. The girls sat beside you screamed out, pretending to catch his kiss and sending one back.

You and Tom decided to keep your relationship under covers, due to the overly obsessive “fangirls.” Both of you knew it would be the best option to keep you safe. If you were ever injured or threatened by one of his “fangirls,” Tom wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

Tom held the leather ball in the crook of his arm, with the other pushing his way through the attacking team. Calculating his success, he dove into a touchdown, scoring him and his team the winning point.

The anticipating crowd jumped up, cheering loudly and hugging one another, whereas the visitor team’s crowd let out a loud, mutual sigh of disappointment.

You jumped out of your seat, screaming out your lungs as you stared, wide-eyed, at your beaming boyfriend. His teammates had lifted him into the air, tossing him about. You giggled as he caught your eye, slyly winking at you.

Lost in your own world, you almost ran down to where Tom was before you saw a hoard of girls jumping and reaching their arms out to grab at him. Frowning, you walked away from the crowd to retreat to the warmth of Tom’s car.

You scrolled through the collection of images you and Tom had had together, warmly smiling at the memories. You let out a breathy laugh, selecting on one specific memory: Tom’s head laid on your lap, eyes shut, and lips puckered lightly as he let out even breaths.

The car door beside you opened, shaking you out of your train of thought.

“Hey,” your eyes were met with the blue pupils you weren’t expecting.

“Haz?” You looked behind him, hoping to find your beloved boyfriend.

“Tom — um — he told me to drive you back to the dorms, said he would be heading to the celebratory party,” Harrison explained, eyes shaking with concern and sympathy.

“Oh, I understand,” your smile not quite making it to your eyes.

“He was being hoarded by his,” Haz hesitates, “fangirls. He didn’t want you to get involved.”

“It’s all good, Hazzy. No need to worry about me,” you let out a feigned laugh.

You stepped into the warm building, waving Harrison goodbye. Another football victory, same schedule.

You go to Tom’s game to support and cheer him on, Tom wins, you avoid him, Tom’s “fangirls” hoard him, you wait in Tom’s car, Harrison comes instead of Tom, Harrison brings you back to your dorm while Tom goes to his party, you fall asleep in your own arms: the ‘Tom’s football victory’ schedule, named and created by you.

To say the least, you weren’t fond of the last half of the schedule. You always were left alone to celebrate Tom’s victory on your own, while Tom was doing who-knows-what at the afterparty.

In full honesty, you were slowly growing tired of hiding your affection for one another. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold onto this style of dating. If the pair of you were going to date, you would date publicly and however you wanted, whether it meant risking your safety or not. Besides, you weren’t some helpless girl that doesn’t and can’t protect herself.

The next day, you woke up with an aching head and puffy eyes. Groaning, you looked into your mirror located at the corner of your room. You flinched at the sight of your pink, tear-stained cheeks and tangled, mop hair. Pushing yourself off the soft mattress, you stumbled into your bathroom, prepping a warm shower to start your day off fresh.

With your laptop and notebook resting in your arms, against your chest, you made your way to your next lecture. You walked sluggishly across the large campus, occasionally catching a glimpse of passing football team members.

A specific group you walked past caught your attention. You saw the familiar brunette curls in your peripheral vision, immediately making you turn your gaze towards it. You saw his warm smile as he chuckled with his group of friends, some of his “fangirls” giggling along with the group.

There Tom stood, laughing and joking about with his peers, radiating happiness. He was basking in the attention he received from his friends and “fans.”

You tried to catch his eye, and you swore you did for a split second, but he only walked past you as if you weren’t even there. Not even a hidden smile or wink of acknowledgment was sent your way.

Your walking came to a stop as you frowned at your boyfriend’s back. You wanted to shout out his name, call for his attention. You wanted to nuzzle into his chest, breathing in his scent. You wanted to look into his chocolate-pooled eyes, see the twinkle of adoration as he stared at you. Nevertheless, you couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything with Tom in public, for you were just another girl on campus, trying to get by, and Tom was the successful jock with a bright future ahead.

You walked into the large room, taking a seat, conveniently, in front of Tom. This time, you were the one to not spare him a single glance, albeit he probably wasn’t expecting or looking for one.

You tried your best to listen and focus on the lecture, but the consistent whispers behind your back began to nag at your patience. You leaned your down further into your notes, as if it could fix the slowly kindling fire in you. Checking the clock, you saw that only five minutes of the lecture had passed, and your professor had barely said anything.

“Five minutes? I swear it felt like half of the lecture had gone by. And the professor. I swear he had just said like tons of important information,” you muttered to yourself under your breath, catching a few students’ gazes.

You gently pounded a fist into your temple, forcing your attention onto the lined sheets of paper on your desk. You expected to see notes, not illegible scribbles. You silently groaned, switching the sheet for a new, clean page. You took a deep breath and began jotting down the key points of the presentation that was being projected onto the large whiteboard.

A feminine voice cleared their throat beside you, “Excuse me.”

You looked up from your work, a glare on your face as you were pulled out of your focus once again.

“Can I help you?” You asked, irritated.

“Uh, yes, you can. You can help me by moving yourself to that seat over there,” she pointed at an empty seat across the room, “and giving this,” she placed her hand on the desk, atop you notes, “seat to me.”

You scoffed, “And why should I?”

“Oh, honey,” you cringed at the nickname, “Tommy, here,” she nodded towards Tom, “shouldn’t have to suffer by looking at your terrible hair. Like, honestly, do you even care for your looks?”

You were practically fuming in your seat, but to avoid trouble, you responded with a monotonous voice, “I’m sure “Tommy” can take care of himself. Spare us both the inconvenience, and go sit yourself on that empty seat because if you couldn’t tell, I’m occupying this spot.”

“Who do you think you are?” She shouted, hand crumpling your notes.

Furrowing your brows, you grabbed at your notes, hoping to spare them.

“Move your ugly ass before I kick you off this seat,” she threatened, pulling you by your hair.

The professor stopped talking, glaring at the pair of you. You took it as a sign to shut up and not fight back.

Fist clenching, nails creating red crescents in your palm, you stood up, pushing the girl off of you, ignoring her gasp. You grabbed your notes and laptop, turning to see if Tom would defend you, but when you saw his passive expression, you let out a quiet laugh of disappointment, carrying yourself to the back of the room.

For the rest of the class, you stood in the back, writing your notes with blurry, tear-filled vision. Although you were still in shock due to the event that had unfolded minutes into the lecture, you wouldn’t let it falter how you were doing in school.

As soon as you were dismissed, you bolted out of the room, heading to your safe haven on campus.

Not many people, if any, knew about the hidden garden located within the campus’s vast park. You had only discovered it by accident when you were a freshman looking for your way around campus.

The first thought you had when you walked in was that you were transported into a different dimension. Thinking back on it, you were naive to think that, but you were still justified. Anyone would think such a beautiful place couldn’t belong to the aggressivity and rashness of this world. The variant shades of light green and pastel pink flowers growing between the weeds of grass gave the place a heavenly feeling, followed by the mist that sparkled under the sunlight.

You dropped yourself at the thick tree’s stump, letting your notes and laptop slip out of your grasp. You cried into your knees, pouring out all of your stresses. Your breaths were short and heaved, occasional hiccups bubbling from your lips. Your sobs slowly lulled you closer to sleep, emotional and physical fatigue catching up to you. That is, until you heard the recognizable clang of the door handle hitting against the wooden door.

“Darling,” the accented voice you longed to hear spoke up.

Quickly wiping away your tears and sniffling away any evidence of your sorrow, you stood up, “Tommy!” A feigned smile lay on your supple skin as you ran over to your boyfriend, embracing him in your arms, “What’s up?”

“Are you alright? I’m sorry I didn’t speak up for you during class. I should’ve told that girl to get her hands off you,” he stroked your hair, “She didn’t hurt you, did she?”

Letting a pained giggle out, you shook your head, “Nope, I’m fine. You know how strong I am.”

“I really, really did want to speak up, but you know that we should keep our relationship under covers, for your sake,” he spoke gently, placing a kiss on your head.

You scowled into his shirt but kept up your cheerful facade, chirping, “Mhm, safety.”

“I knew you’d understand,” he sighed. His hold on you weakened, “I should get going, though. The group will start to wonder where I’ve gone.”

You frowned, pulling away from him.

“Don’t be like that, darling,” he cooed, “I’ll come over tonight. Don’t worry.”

You let out a sarcastic laugh, “Of course, as you always do.”

His brows furrowed at your sudden mood shift, “What are you on, darling?”

“Oh, nothing,” you chirp, hopping back to the tree, collecting your notes and laptop. “Go ahead, meet with your friends. Leave me behind like you always do,” you murmur the last half.

“Love?” His voice neared you, and you barely registered the stray tears betraying you, rolling down your peachy cheeks.

Quickly bringing up a hand to wipe the wetness away, you keep your back facing Tom.

“Shouldn’t you be going? Don’t want your friends to worry,” you laughed, lightly. A hand placed itself on your shoulder, the sudden contact startling you. “You scared me, Tommy. You shouldn’t do that,” you giggle, hiding your true emotions, “You know how easily scared I am.”

“Darling, can you look at me?” He asked, quietly, concern lacing his tone.

“What for, Tommy?” You inquired, nervously laughing.

“You’re acting quite… strange,” he explained.

“No need to worry about me, bubs. I’m as peachy as always,” you quipped, shoulders bouncing in emphasis.

“I’m giving you one more chance to turn, or I will do it for you,” he said, sternly.

You stayed, unmoving, forcing Tom to turn you with his raw strength. At first, you tried to fight it, but you came to the revelation that there was no way you could overpower him.

When you met his warm, liquid eyes, you felt your own tear up, and suddenly, your shoes were an intriguing sight.

“Baby, please look at me,” he whispered, hands rubbing up and down your arms.

You shook your head in denial, trying to keep your weakness hidden.

“It breaks me to see you this way,” he lifted your face with a finger to your chin. His thumb moved to wipe away your crystal tears.

“Then leave,” you hissed, weakly.

“W-What?” Tom stuttered at the unforeseen reply.

“I’m tired, Tom. I’m tired of hiding, of you ignoring me and me, you. How long are we going to do this? It’s so stupid, all of it,” you dropped your head again, this time of fatigue.

“B-But, you know why we’re doing this-” you cut him off.

“I know, and I can’t help but think that this was a stupid choice,” you motioned between the two of you, “You’re barely around me, and on campus, you don’t even acknowledge me. On the slim chance I do have you to myself, it can only last for so long. At this point, it feels like we’re not even together.”

“I-I don’t understand. What are you trying to say?” Fear filled his eyes as the pit in his stomach became more and more noticeable.

“I think it would be better if-” you stuttered in a breath, “if we took a break.”

“Why? Just because we’re hiding our relationship? You know why I- we chose to keep it secret,” he rushed out his words, hands gripping yours.

“Do I? Do I really? Today was display enough that even though we act like we don’t know each other, I’ll still get harassed by those “fans” of yours. Not to mention, you saw it all unravel, and what did you do? Nothing. There’s no practicality to keeping our relationship hidden because either way, some “fans” will go overboard no matter who the person. Also, I think I showed that I can defend myself from crazy people when I pushed that girl off of me today,” you spoke, ferocity and resentment spurring you on.

“I know I messed up when I didn’t help you, but I thought about our relationship-” you scoffed.

“So what? Even if we weren’t in a relationship, you should’ve helped a girl out. Especially when she’s getting harassed because of you,” you jabbed a finger into his chest.

“Tell me how to make it better. I want to make it better. Don’t end us, please,” he begged, gripping your hand tighter.

“Stop, Tom. I told you that I want to take a break. Besides, it won’t be any different to how our normal relationship is,” you laughed. Pulling your arm out of his grasp, you walked away, “Now, I won’t have to waste any tears on you anymore.”

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andypantsx3 · 4 years ago

Text

statistically significant | 3 | bakugou/reader

length: 23,490 words | 7 chapters

summary: You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.

tags: romance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, m/f threats of violence, problematic behavior

note: I cannot overemphasize that this interpretation of Bakugou is based on season 1 Bakugou, which means he behaves very questionably at the beginning. Please heed the warnings!

The next Monday found you anxiously nursing a coffee, carefully looking over Bakugou’s latest results.

You’d let the model retrain overnight, just to get a more up-to-date picture of Bakugou’s work, and you’d barely slept a wink while it ran, fretting over your first meeting with him. After waking up earlier than ever, you’d found yourself restless all morning, so you’d made your way into Miruko’s agency well ahead of schedule and had spent your time since sucking down coffees and eyeing Bakugou’s assist and rescue scores warily. They still sat well beneath his kill and capture scorings, and you mentally braced yourself for the near impossibility of getting him to prioritize those aspects of his work.

With Mina’s help, you’d been able to con him into working with you. But just because he’d agreed to your bet, you were not stupid enough to think that meant he was going to make anything easy for you.

Bakugou, for his part, seemed the very antithesis of nervous when he met you in the surveillance room. He barged into your makeshift office mid-morning, looking well-rested if annoyed. The door banged loudly off the opposite wall and rebounded closed with a slam that rattled the AV equipment.

“Let’s get this over with,” Bakugou growled, throwing himself down in the seat opposite you. He was dressed in dark training clothes--simple athletic fabrics that suggested that he meant to book it to a training room the second he was done with you. His whole manner suggested you should keep things short.

You sat frozen, fingers paused over your laptop keys. “...Good morning to you too.”

He looked at you incredulously, blonde eyebrows raising. “I didn’t fucking come here for small talk. Get on with it, nerd.”

You suppressed a twitch of irritation, looking away from him where he sat in an agitated pile of strong lines and tense muscle. God you hoped this was all going to be worth it, at the end of things.

You sighed and clicked into the model results screen, knowing it was only going to work him into a lather if you pressed him on social niceties. “Okay, so I did some analysis--”

“Big fucking surprise.”

“--and,” you continued loudly, “as you well know, you need to adjust certain priorities on the field.”

A scoff issued from his direction. “I don’t need to adjust shit.”

It took everything in you not to roll your eyes. He was literally here to discuss adjusting shit. What was the point of him being so defensive?

You eyed him speculatively, taking in the oppositional slant to his broad shoulders, the thin slash of his mouth as he regarded you irritably. Your observations from last week floated to the forefront of your mind, that this was a man who would not easily do anything he didn’t want to do. And it was clear he did not actually want to do this--he had only been baited into it by the grace of his meddling, pink-haired friend.

You mentally resolved to play as nice as you possibly could, to minimize the amount of fussing from his side of things.

“As I think I explained last year,” you began carefully, “the model I train relies on a set of weights, and you’re ranked on that. Your work is divided up into categories: public perception, kills, captures, property damage, rescues, and now assists. Some of those categories are weighted more heavily than others, so if you do well in them, you’ll outperform your peers in the rankings who do just as well in other categories.”

Blood red eyes darted up to a monitor as you projected your laptop screen onto it, the model results translated into neatly organized and color-coded graphs.

“You are unmatched in kills, fairly unmatched in captures as well, and you’ve kept property damage to a surprising minimum in the last few years considering your quirk. You’re also wildly popular, particularly with young people, according to public polls.”

You glossed over the fact that his appearance probably had a lot to do with it, considering the tidal wave of interest from the female bracket of respondents. The fact especially did not bear thinking about when he was alone in a tiny office with you, bare arms and the hard planes of his chest displayed prominently in his training gear.

“Just fucking---out with it,” Bakugou demanded, turning to glare at you again. “I don’t have all damn day.”

The tiniest hint of smoke and sweetness hit your nose as he leaned closer, and you pushed away from him, baring your palms in the universal gesture for peace.

“Okay, okay. So you’re good at those things, but your rescue scores need work, and your assist score puts you in the top ten least cooperative heroes in the entire industry,” you explained, watching as a muscle in his jaw jumped in obvious irritation. “Rescues are the highest weighted category in the rankings model, and assists are the third highest. So no matter how good you are in other areas, you will not surpass anyone who performs well in these categories.”

Bakugou made an annoyed sound, his brows drawing together. “Quit fucking talking to me like I’m a baby. I fucking know--tell me exactly what your fucking nerd-ass model needs me to do and I’ll fucking do it.”

You breathed out of your nose very slowly, quelling the rising tide of annoyance within you. Everything out of his mouth was so abrupt and demanding.

Software engineers, picture the software engineers.

“Okay so I ran deeper analyses on those two categories and compared your movements with generalized results from the top ten heroes from each category,” you continued.

“The thing that stood out in terms of rescues, is that you were almost twice as fast as other heroes to leap into combat with a villain. This means you’re spending less time assessing the situation than other heroes, and therefore spending less time processing victims. So if I had to make a recommendation here, it’s that you should actively look for civilians before jumping into a fight. You might still find that the smarter thing to do is leap into the fight instead of evacuating them, but you at least need to slow down before you do.”

The crease between his brows erased itself and he leaned back in his chair, tension bleeding out of him somewhat, which was--unexpected. You’d have thought he’d get more defensive as you explained his shortcomings to him.

“Fine,” he said shortly. “What else?”

You pulled up two videos and projected them side by side, bright little clusters of dots collected over the location of each hero. “For assists, it looks like when you’re in range of other heroes, you actually do help, at least a little. I only found an issue when I generalized results from the top ten in this category and ran calculations about their movements in comparison to yours.”

You let the videos play, watching Bakugou’s eyes track the movements with unblinking precision. He said nothing as you let the loop repeat, the tense lines of his body inexplicably unravelling even further with each loop. He looked as close to relaxed as you had ever seen him.

After a few loops, he finally let out a scoff. “Those needy fucks stick closer to other heroes,” he concluded gruffly. “That’s what the dots are tracking.”

You nodded. “On average, you move three times farther away from other heroes on scene than the top ten heroes do. So you’re less likely to be in range to help.”

He rolled a powerful shoulder, unwittingly drawing your eyes straight to it. You gave your leg an annoyed pinch under the table, forcing your gaze back up to his face once you realized what you were doing.

“So I have to look for weaklings and stay closer to these b-list fucking clowns, that’s what you’re telling me?” he prompted, running a hand through his mess of blonde hair. It looked unexpectedly soft under his fingers.

You drew your eyes away from him again, focusing hard on the relief you were feeling that he seemed to be processing and internalizing your feedback. “Yeah, you need to assist civilians and stay in range of your team. Those are the only areas in which you really need help.”

There was a sharp crackle, and tense movement caught in the corner of your eye. You turned to find that all of Bakugou’s unease had suddenly returned, a snarl riding his mouth.

“Help?” he demanded. That scent of smoke and sugar suddenly pressed in on you again, sharp and dangerously hot.

You blinked at him in confusion. “...Uh, yeah?”

His gaze darkened and he leaned over the table between the two of you, a calloused hand catching the collar of your shirt to yank you towards him. The corner of the table dug into your ribs, and his fingers were hot where they brushed the skin under your collar.

“I don’t fucking need help,” he spat, crimson eyes boring into your face like a drill. Your hands came up to grab his, trying to untwist it from your shirt, but his fingers only tightened, unyielding.

“What--? Yes you do?” you garbled, fingers scrabbling over his. “What do you--?”

He pulled you further across the table, so that his face was scant inches from your own.

“Fuck you if you think I need anything from you,” he growled in a low tone, voice almost dangerously soft. Your blood iced over in your veins, limbs freezing. He stared at you for a long, heavy moment.

Then, in the next second, you were being shoved backwards into your chair, and then Bakugou was gone, door slamming behind him with a force that shook the walls.

You stared after him in shock, mouth gaping open. He had been fine up until a couple of seconds ago, even seeming to relax under your analysis. But then his temper had suddenly flared for no fucking reason.

What….what the fuck was wrong with him?

You spent the rest of the morning in a state of restless agitation.

What the literal fuck was wrong with Bakugou? Why had he just stormed out like that? What had flipped the switch for him in the space of mere seconds?

You replayed the conversation in your head nonstop all through your next few meetings and over your lunch break, where you furiously wolfed down a bento without tasting any of it. Your frustration carried you all the way into the afternoon, when a head of wild pink curls poked itself through your door.

You looked up into Pinky’s dark eyes and brilliant smile.

“Y/N!” she chirped happily, closing the door behind her and sprawling into the seat across from you.

You returned her friendly smile. “Ashido-san,” you greeted her politely.

She laughed and waved a rosy hand, leaning forward over the table. “I would never ask stats girl to be formal with me. Call me Mina!”

You huffed an embarrassed laugh. That was sweet, but the nickname stats girl needed to die a brisk and fiery death.

“Mina, then,” you amended, pulling up her model results on your laptop, trying to tamp down on your embarrassment. She was almost overwhelmingly friendly.

Her dark eyes flickered over you curiously and a cautious smile played about her mouth. “Heard it didn’t go well with Katsuki this morning.”

You looked up at her in surprise. “He told you?”

She laughed. “No, I just saw him annihilating a training room. I know him well enough to know when he’s throwing a tantrum.”

An awkward, hot sense of shame welled up within you at the thought that you’d pushed him to that, though you didn’t know how. You got the sense that you’d taken one step forward but two steps back. So much for your promotion.

“Uh yeah, he kind of...stormed out? He’d been listening, actually, and I thought things were going weirdly well. The bet was a good idea, so thank you,” you said. “I just…somehow I screwed it up, I think.”

Mina rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, splaying out flat in her seat. “God, you know what? I’m just so tired of my best friends being guys. They’re so dramatic and so fussy about their tough guy image. And take themselves so seriously, for no reason, even fucking Denki. I have sat every single one of them down and forced them into make up so it’s absolutely baffling to me that they still stomp around like they’re so serious and so tortured.”

Your mouth dropped open as what she’d just said caught up with you. Take themselves seriously...when she’d forced them into make up? “No. Even…?”

Mina smirked. “Oh yeah, even Katsuki. No idea why he thinks he’s such a tough guy when all it takes is a couple of tears and boom, he’s working a smokey eye and tiny little pigtails.”

You choked on a laugh, trying to dispel the horrifying image in your mind of Bakugou in mascara and lipstick. The idea of him in make up was somehow even more intimidating than his usual appearance. You did not want to know more.

It certainly did beg the question, however, why he was such a difficult jerk if it was that easy to get him to acquiesce to something that horrifying. Maybe the answer lay in Mina’s powers of manipulation. She’d known to make the bet with him, after all. And if she knew how to get him into eyeliner and lipstick, then she might know how to get him to agree to let you help him.

“Wow,” you murmured. “That’s...terrifying. How did you even convince him though? I can’t get him to spend more than two seconds around me without blowing his top like a volcano.”

Mina grinned conspiratorially, leaning over the table. “You just have to know how to work him. Trust me, you might have good numbers sense, but I have pretty good people sense. Katsuki is all smoke and fire until you dig underneath.”

You almost did not want to know what was underneath. “That’s--but he’s so volatile. I can’t predict any of it.”

Mina's grin widened. “Actually, it’s pretty straightforward. He’s actually super in control all of the time, even when it seems like he’s lost it. He’s only really sensitive about one thing.”

“For example,” she leaned forward, her smile morphing into something dark and leery. “I heard he burned through your dress at the Hero Awards.”

You put your face in your palm. “Yes. This is what I’m talking about--I thought he was gonna fry me to a crisp.”

Mina snorted, raking a hand through her mess of curls. “Maybe I only see it because my acid is similar--but it’s pretty hard to only burn through a tiny strip of fabric and not touch anything underneath, even if you’re not out of your mind with anger. It requires some precise control. Wouldn’t you say?”

You froze in your seat, staring at her. Implications began to creep over you like a dark shroud. “What?”

She grinned. “He didn’t touch you, right? Only the dress?”

You gaped at her. “Yeah--only the dress.”

She cut her dark eyes to you, looking like she was trying to suppress a laugh. “Very interesting that he managed to sear straight through your dress, then, without burning you. One might think he did it on purpose.”

You floundered. “But I--but he--! I told him to do better and he got all worked up and intense!”

Mina laughed out loud. “I bet he did. Katsuki’s a total control freak but he loves a challenge. That’s why he took your bet, and that’s why your meeting didn’t go as poorly as you thought it might at first, and that’s why he was so fixated on you after the Awards.”

Your face heated. “Don’t put it like that.”

She chuckled. “I don’t know how you feel about him, but I can guarantee he’s very interested in you. He loves girls who don’t take any of his shit. Why do you think he signed with Miruko? It’s actually kinda gross,” she made a face.

Your face was on fire. A hot wave of embarrassment washed through you and you resisted the urge to dive under the table and hide. This is not the turn you thought the conversation would be taking.

“Uh, so,” you managed, fingers fluttering. “So--um, why did he freak out earlier then? I did tell him everything he was doing wrong. But then he lost it, I think when I told him I would help.”

Mina’s grin settled back into place. “He’s so fucking predictable. He hates being looked down on, and the word help implies that you think he’s weak enough to need it. I’ll bet you anything that’s why he totally flipped.”

You considered this. “But I didn’t mean it like that--”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s got a very specific way of looking at things. He’s way better than he used to be but that’s the one thing he’s still sensitive about.”

You mulled that over. It did explain, then, why he’d reacted so poorly when he’d seemed to be fine with your critique. “Does he really need to be seen as strong that badly?”

Mina picked idly at the fluff on her costume’s jacket, thin fingers tangling in the white strands. “He has insane expectations for himself, and he’s only comfortable when everyone else has those too. It’s like if you think he can’t live up to those standards, that you don’t truly see him.”

So that was it. The mystery of Bakugou’s volatile nature explained--a weirdly deep-seated inferiority complex wrapped up in layers of crankiness and--you blushed--an interest in girls who gave him shit. You quickly buried any considerations on his romantic inclinations, and focused on the inferiority complex.

Whether you’d intended to or not, this morning you had managed to convey to him that you thought he was incapable, and not in a way that personally challenged him like the bet had, or your demand he do better at the Hero Awards. It was so ridiculous, you thought, but then so was he. And if you wanted to make any progress on your promotion, then you were gonna have to suck it up and work within those constraints.

You sighed. You owed him an explanation, maybe even an apology.

Mina regarded you approvingly from across the table. You also owed her a drink. Maybe several.

“Got it,” you acknowledged, clicking back into your model results and pulling up her ranking analyses. “And thank you--I owe you a ton. Now let’s get to what we came here to do which is to talk about how you can kick even more ass.”

Mina grinned, leaning forward in delight. “You’re welcome. And hell yeah, this conversation was so not passing the Bechdel test.”

You snorted, suppressing a wild smile. Oh, you really liked her.

You would apologize and get things back on track with Bakugou. And once Bakugou netted you your promotion, you were gonna turn back and rocket Mina up the rankings to give him a run for his money.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia #bnha #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #tw threats #tw gendered violence

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samstree · 3 years ago

Note

hello my dear!! how about hugs 11 + kisses 27 for the prompts?? 💞💞

"Clinging to each other" and "desperate kisses" from the touching prompts. Thanks my dear! Here’s some cursed Jaskier + pining Geralt.

The kissing is slightly dub-con for both of them because of magic.

Read on ao3.

---

“Jaskier, what—”

The bard has thrown himself at the witcher, clinging as if his life depends on it. His arms are squeezing Geralt’s ribcage so tightly that anyone else would have been suffocated by the sheer force of it.

“Hey, what is wrong?” Geralt tries to pry himself away but when his hand comes up to the side of the bard’s face, he finds the skin there way too hot and almost burning with a fever. “Gods, what did she do to you?”

Letting the bard go with the mage might have been the worst idea he’s ever had, now that he realizes in the way Jaskier refuses to let go. Trusting her—or any mage, really—is always bound to end up a disaster.

“Geralt,” Jaskier mutters, his voice shaking, but not with fear. “You are here.”

“I’m here.”

When Geralt inhales the bard’s scent, the faint trace of magic is unmistakable. Underneath it is Jaskier’s floral perfume, the only one he uses since Geralt mentioned that it’s the only one that doesn’t bother his sensitive nose.

But apart from it all, there is the overwhelming surge of sweetness, thick like honey. It’s the same smell that he’s always associated with Jaskier, one that drifts into the air whenever the bard is purring with contentment.

It’s love.

It’s the same love that Jaskier carries for everyone and everything. The smell is so omnipresent that Geralt has longs since registered it as… just Jaskier.

But it’s ten times more.

“It’s a love spell, Jaskier,” Geralt says into the bard’s ear, worry churning in his stomach. “She put a lo—”

The sentence is interrupted by soft lips pressed against his.

The bard is intoxicating like this, nibbling and sucking urgently with his hands coming up to thread into Geralt’s hair. His fingers scratch at the witcher’s scalp and his legs almost melt under him. The love is so heady between their breaths and in each touch of lips that Geralt finds himself opening up for Jaskier, letting him in, letting him take more—

“Wait,” Geralt inhales weakly but is silenced by another bruising kiss. The burning heat on Jaskier’s skin, ironically, sobers him up like a bucket of ice water. “Wait, you are not in your right mind.”

Geralt cups the soft line of Jaskier’s jaw and keeps him away. There are only a few inches between them, the distance so easy to close but there’s no way he can ignore the unhealthy amount of love in the air.

Jaskier whines and desperately tries to lean in again.

“We can’t. Her love spell is making you want this.”

“No. No, it’s not her.” Jaskier reaches for Geralt’s hand on his cheek, holding it in place before turning to press a kiss in the witcher’s palm. Gods, can a witcher’s heart skip a beat? “I’ve always wanted it, Geralt, believe me when I say I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

Geralt shakes his head at the magic-compelled lie.

“Not according to you, Jask. You’ve never expressed any—”

“I was only afraid,” Jaskier says with so much conviction in his eyes, those cornflower blues are darkened with desire but it only serves to make his gaze more piercing. The flush of his cheeks deepens. Even his hairline is now soaked with sweat. “I’m not anymore. She helped me stop being afraid. Can’t you see?”

The bard bites his lips, his kiss-bruised, swollen lips, and Geralt’s resolve cracks, just for a second.

A second is all it takes for those lips to return to Geralt’s skin, peppering across his cheek, then neck, everywhere Jaskier can reach.

“I’ll show you,” Jaskier mumbles before sucking a bruise right over Geralt’s pulse point, drawing out a moan from the witcher. “Let me show you if you can’t see how much I love you.”

The passion in Jaskier's confession punches all air out of Geralt. He doesn’t know how he would have reacted in a different situation—probably frozen to the spot while jumping up and down on the inside—but now, those three words only fill Geralt with horror.

Pulling away from the bard for the second time might just be the hardest thing he’s ever done.

“No.” It takes everything in Geralt to say. “I can’t.”

Everything is so wrong.

It’s wrong that Jaskier’s eyes are brimming with tears because of Geralt’s apparent rejection, because gods know how much he wishes to never wake up from this dream. If only he can stay like this, with Jaskier in his arms forever.

If only Jaskier truly loves him.

“Why?” the bard chokes out a whimper. “I thought you wanted me, Geralt. I can see in your eyes. The way you look at me when—when you listen to my songs, and when I’m with someone else. I—I thought…”

He trails off, heartbroken, and Geralt doesn’t know how to make it better.

“I’m sorry.”

Geralt’s hand traces the familiar sign of Axii and Jaskier’s slack body drops at the same time as his tears.

Lifting Jaskier up makes him ache with how well their bodies fit into each other’s, with the bard’s curve pressed against his chest so comfortably, so easily. It’s only made worse when Jaskier nuzzles into his neck and slurs his name again.

“Of course I want you.” Geralt presses his forehead against Jaskier’s, feeling the magic burning under his skin. “But not like this.”

He will put Jaskier in the safety of their bed and he will keep guard until the spell passes.

He will never let anyone take advantage of Jaskier in this state.

Including himself.

“Never like this.”

---

This is also heavily inspired by star trek: voyager. Sorry (not sorry) for the angst.

Tagging: @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @theultimatenerdd @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #my writing #cursed!jaskier #love spell #pining geralt #geralt x jaskier #slight dubcon #cw: dubcon

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roanniom · 4 years ago

Note

Hey Issa, my sweet honey bun! I don’t send many requests to people, so bear with me. I’ll forever wait for the day you write Kylo, but until then I’ll throw this one at you for Charlie. I had a wander through the prompt list, and I kinda liked “I’ll feel better if you let me walk you home.” with Charlie being all protective of reader, unsure if she reciprocates his feelings. And because I’m a garbage can of filth, I also loved “I’m not made of glass. You won’t break me.” if you wanted to move into smut. I hope this gets the creative juices flowing? Take your time, no pressure ever! 💕💕💕

@paper-n-ashes as you know I have been holding onto this and chipping away at it steadily for FOREVER so I can get it just right for you, so I hope you enjoy it, my love <3

Push

Charlie Barber x Reader

Word Count: 6,862

Warnings: NSFW, fingering, PIV sex / unprotected sex, light light light choking (not even really), mention of infidelity (just canon from Marriage Story plot), a lil post-divorce angst/lack of confidence

The above photo is Charlie Barber, 1-year post divorce. He’s been working out as a form of anger management and because Henry, over many late night phone conversations, has shared his new love of hiking, a pastime he’s picked up since living in LA. Charlie plans to take Henry hiking on the Appalachian trail next summer break and wants to be on tip top shape to keep up with his enthusiastic son.

He’s been to therapy. Learning more about what went wrong in his marriage, but more specifically learning about how he can become a better person in the aftermath. How infidelity and self-interest were born of a deep-seated need for a love that he was not receiving. A love that was no closer to him prior to his indiscretions but all the same rendered unreachable as a result. He’s given himself time to grieve the man he’d thought himself to be. Because that is what had died with his marriage - not Charlie Barber himself. But the Charlie Barber he’d built in his mind. A man limited by support that came with conditions, love that came with caveats. That Charlie was a father and a husband. He was often suppressed, wound tight, on edge.

This Charlie is a father and a man. He is free to celebrate his own success without fear of wounding nearby egos. He’s limited only by what he feels he deserves. And granted sometimes those self-imposed limitations can really hold him down, as they did when he vowed not to jump into any further entanglements - affairs or otherwise - in the time immediately following his divorce. But that limitation was ultimately beneficial. It gave him space to be alone - with himself, for himself. He was able to finally see his own flaws with his own eyes instead of having them recited back to him by another, as if through a crude, second hand reflection. And in seeing these flaws, he also saw the virtues. Charlie was actually starting to like himself again.

And this is when he meets you.

You storm into his life with an energy he doesn’t recognize, introduced at a party by a friend of a friend, filling his senses with your too-loud-laughter and too-bright-eyes. In many ways that’s how he sees you: too much. Your enthusiasm makes you appear too young, though in truth you’re not that much younger than him. Your smile makes you appear too beautiful, though in truth there are often much more conventionally attractive women in the room at any given time.

“Charlie. Charlie Barber,” Charlie mutters as he shakes your hand. Its warm in his larger one and he’s suddenly a little self-conscious of the fact that he’d been holding his sweating scotch on the rocks just moments before the contact.

“Hello Charlie-Charlie Barber,” you reply with a massive grin, shaking his hand back vigorously and with seemingly no reaction to its clamminess. “The famous director, I assume?”

Charlie clocks the quirk of your eyebrow. A tease. A social cue he’s not used to. Not these days. He looks down at his worn tennis shoes, all too aware all at once of the way they dress down his sweater and jeans. He feels rumpled next to you and he’s not sure he likes it. You’re too put together.

You’re too honest, too fearless, too open to new things. Though Charlie’s beginning to grow, your presence reminds him of how stunted he’d been in his marriage. How the same old restaurants, the same old clothes, the same old glass of the same old scotch had become items of comfort for him, talismans of a previous life that he clung to for some semblance of familiarity. Around you, however, those same old things looks dull and uninspired. Quite the opposite of you.

You are the one to ask him out, though he’s not even really aware that it’s a date at all when he arrives. That’s how much he doesn’t see you coming. His affair had been one of convenience. An opportunity to blow off excess steam, and a pretty disappointing one at that, with neither party really find what they were chasing. His marriage had grown cold long before it had ended. All of this to say that Charlie wasn’t very familiar with warmth. With interest that occurred in the light of day, and attention that was given without anything sought in return.

You’re halfway through lunch before you realize that he doesn’t understand your intentions. So you explain them to him. Clear and empty of any pretense. You are attracted to him and interested in getting to know him further. It’s simple, really. He’s shocked by your openness and the absence of any games. In another life he’d once assumed that a relationship without strife, without agony, without strategic tug of war would be one without passion. However, as he soon learns while taking you out on the second date, that he couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

Over dinner this time he finds himself getting lost in your micro-expressions. Finds his eyes lingering on the animated way you gesture, finds his words getting twisted in his tongue as your gaze weighs on him, expectant and waiting for a response to some question. His bodily responses to your attention are no less potent in the absence of angst. In fact, he is surprised to find that his yearning practically triples when you part ways and he realizes not once had he been made to feel like he had to prove something, or fight, or challenge.

He learns over time that you challenge him in other ways. Challenge him when it comes to picking restaurants outside his comfort zone. Challenge him by dragging him, mid-lunch date, on a shopping trip with you, a trip where you gently help him to finally replace the worn out tennis shoes to which he’d been clinging. Challenge him by laughing with him, not at him, even when the subject of the humor is himself. Your laughter is lighter, more carefree, than he is used to. Then again, he’s not used to being around someone like you.

He kisses you after the third date – the lunch-turned-shopping trip. It’s quick and it’s light, on the curb before an intersection on the East Side, right before you both are about to walk in separate directions. You say nothing when he pulls away. Just smile and turn on your heel, already headed to your next destination. It drives Charlie crazy over the next few days. Not because he assumes you have some hidden agenda. On the contrary, he’s horrified that your interior thoughts match your exterior actions. You have been nothing but honest with him. It is Charlie who has been oscillating wildly in his mind. Between thoughts of how much it might hurt if you turn out to be too good to be true and thoughts of how much he’d love to feel your body on his. To explore the mouth you use so effortlessly to tease him, to compliment him, to charm him. You speak kindness like pleasantries, as if affirmations and praise were as easy to dole out as a cheery “good morning” on a stress-free Saturday. Charlie wants to know what you’re like on a Saturday. Away from the bustle of the city. Away from the common friends and the crowded shops and restaurants that have buffered all of your encounters.

But Charlie’s still afraid.

On your fourth date Charlie is more reserved when you arrive at the restaurant. You break the ice by pointing out that the formality of your dates is beginning to feel silly.

“Maybe it’s the fact that the tables have tablecloths,” you joke, swirling your pasta around a fork. “Or maybe it’s the fact that I’ve never repeatedly had meals with someone I wasn’t already in a relationship with.”

Charlie prickles at the implication, taking a labored swallow of ice water. He doesn’t want to comment on the relationship part of your sentiment so he chooses something more neutral.

“Should I remind you that two of these meals have been at your suggestion and you did, in fact, also plan them as meals.” He relaxes a bit when you laugh heartily at that, relieved that the conversation doesn’t get any more dicey.

“Touché,” you reply. Then you lean forward and whisper conspiratorially at him across the small table. He feels himself lean in, curious but also looking for a chance to just get closer in proximity. He wishes he’d had the courage to sit next to you rather than across from you when he’d first sat down. “Feeling adventurous enough to let me pick where we go after this tonight?”

And Charlie feels adventurous. Adventurous as he lets you whisk him across town and to your favorite arcade bar. Adventurous as he passes you a large handful of quarters he got from the little machine at the front, only to grasp your fist in his when he miscalculates how much of his handful you’d be capable of taking, narrowly avoiding a massive spill of loose change on the floor. Adventurous as he orders a couple of beers and lets you show him your favorite game, Burger Time – a silly little maze game where you collect burger ingredients. Adventurous as he shows you his favorite game, which is pretty much any pinball machine known to man.

“Yours looks cooler than mine,” you huff, walking over to the pinball machine he’s playing once you abandon the one that was definitely broken. Or at least that’s how you justify so many consecutive, immediate losses. Charlie laughs and pulls back the plunger but doesn’t release, effectively pausing his game.

“You wanna try it?” Charlie ushers you in front of him and puts your hand on the plunger beneath his, careful not to release it in the process. “The key is anticipating where the ball will go. It’s all about patterns after a while.”

“Then why does it seem so random?” you ask, looking up at him over your shoulder.

“You just haven’t played enough yet. Over time you can predict what will happen if the ball hits a certain corner. Where it will go if it ricochets juuust right at the last second.”

“Sounds fake but I’ll let you prove it to me,” you say with a laugh, focusing your attention back on the machine.

“We’ll let go in one…two…three.” When you feel the pressure of his hand let up you let go as well, letting him guide both your hands immediately to the buttons on the side of the machine.

For as great as his theory of pinball predictability is, he probably underestimates your ability to suck. Because you do, hard. But you laugh the whole way through, and you never quit. Never turn to him in frustration asking to do something else or even to leave. Instead you keep feeding quarters into the machine and bringing your hands back under Charlie’s on the machine. And no matter how shitty you are, you always at least try to focus.

Charlie, meanwhile, is having a very hard time focusing on anything that isn’t your body. His hips bracket your ass in this helpful position he’s adopted, and he feels your pressure against his pelvis with every enthusiastic wriggle and little jump of frustration that you take in response to the game. When he makes the unfortunate mistake to look down over your shoulder at one point he’s met with a direct view of your cleavage, exposed as it is in your low-cut blouse. Charlie begins to sweat and it has nothing to do with how packed the arcade is or with the exertion of gaming. When he remembers that the arcade is also a bar, he excuses himself to get more beer, hoping that one will cool him off and cool him down.

You dazzle him with a smile thrown over your shoulder when he approaches with the two fresh bottles, and he’s not prepared for how the sight of your face almost knocks him back on his ass.

“Charlie! I did better this time!” He chuckles at your enthusiasm.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, handing you your beer which you sip gratefully.

“I lasted a few more minutes than last time,” you elaborate proudly. “So I’d say that means I now qualify as a pinball wizard.”

“Move over Elton John,” Charlie says with a smirk. You slap him in the shoulder and immediately engage him in a spirited discussion of whether the Elton John movie version of “Pinball Wizard” was better than The Who’s version from the original album. However, after a few minutes Charlie realizes he’s lost in thought. Lost in your voice. Lost in your expressions. Lost in you.

When it finally comes time to leave the arcade, the night drawing much later than it had on your previous nighttime date, Charlie’s scared he’ll be lost without you. The two of you walk together for a couple of blocks before you reach that similar intersection. The place where you part ways.

“I think we really turned around that formality thing, don’t you?” you ask him, turning to Charlie and leaning back against the column of a pedestrian sign. Charlie moves into your space, swallowing his hesitation.

“I don’t know, I began to feel a little unworthy when you ascended past the role of pinball wizard.”

“Oh did I get a promotion?” You ask, tipping your head back so you can look up at him as he steps closer.

“The word wizard conjures up images of wizened old man,” Charlie says dismissively, as if that clears up everything.

“So if you’re saying I don’t remind you of a wrinkled old Merlin – to which might I say, shocker – then what exactly is my new title.”

“One that fits you inside and out.” Charlie braces a hand against the column above your head, his other in his pocket. His head dips down so that it’s closer to your face despite your height difference. You feel warm despite the slight chill in the air.

“And that would be Pinball….?” you prompt.

“Goddess,” he completes the title before pressing his lips to yours. His hands remain on the column and in his pocket until you reach forward and grab a fistful of his sweater, pulling him to you. Then his hands are at your waist, pushing you back into the column. His tongue is in your mouth and your hands are in his hair and he can’t breathe. But he doesn’t want to. He wants to suffocate, wants to asphyxiate on you and the way he feels so tethered to this moment, this intersection, this place where you cannot part ways.

When you break apart to, in fact, breathe, your chest heaves and your smile is radiant.

“As far as kisses goodnight go, I’d say that was top tier,” you say on a laugh. Suddenly Charlie’s throat is constricting and he has to fight his facial muscles to keep from frowning as his hands tighten on your waist.

“That wasn’t a kiss goodnight. Not yet.”

“Any longer and it’ll be a kiss good morning, sir. Have you seen the time?” Your tone is joking. You call people ‘sir’ all the time. It’s a weird quirk of yours, like calling someone dude or pal. But Charlie can feel himself choking on the word, as well as the implications of a ‘kiss good morning.’ All of a sudden he feels like if he could have only one more thing before dying, that’s what he’d ask for. But then he kicks himself internally for being so fucking dramatic and he fiddles with the hem of your shirt.

“Exactly. It’s late.

You survey him from under your eyelashes with a small smile.

“I’ve made this walk many times.”

“It’s dark.”

“I’ve made this walk in the dark many times.”

“I’ll feel better if you let me walk you home.”

Charlie’s heart clenches. Before he can overthink, you’ve ducked out of his hold, grasped his hand and started pulling him down the street.

“C’mon Charlie, hurry up. You’d keep a goddess waiting?” you toss back at him over your shoulder. But in truth it was taking all of Charlie’s self control and the fact that he didn’t know the way to your place to keep him from throwing you over his shoulder and breaking into a full sprint.

~*~

Your place is exactly like you. Eclectic, warm, inviting. There is a moment, as you pull off your coat and turn away to place it and Charlie’s on a coat rack, when Charlie feels much too big for the space. Like he’s some kind of giant invading the home of a sweet little wood nymph. But then his little wood nymph is grabbing him by the front of the shirt and dragging him to a bedroom and the worries fade right out the window.

At first Charlie is gentle with you. His hands ghost over your body as you kiss him beside your bed. When you push him to sit down on the edge of the mattress and step between his open legs to kiss him with a different height dynamic his heart just about jumps clear out of his chest. He hasn’t done this – hasn’t touched or been touched – in so long. The affair had been transactional, just the mechanical motions of sexual gratification. Sex with Nicole, before it stopped, had been even colder, almost as if she had been begrudgingly completing some unwelcome chore.

You, however, are like fire beneath Charlie’s fingers. Your skin, your lips – everything is so warm it feels like you’re too hot to touch. But Charlie would rather risk burning up than to not become accustomed to the feel, the shape, the substance of you. He smooths over your body with a reverential softness, his muscles tense with restraint so as to keep from accidentally pushing you too far too fast. To keep from handling the way that, deep down, he desperately needs.

When your lips suddenly leave his, his brow furrows in frustrations. Before he can open his eyes a soothing finger smooths the furrow away, sliding down the bridge of his nose to press against his kiss-swollen lips. Charlie opens his eyes with a question present in them and you cock your head to the side.

“You’re tense. Like you’re holding back.” The statement isn’t accusatory but it isn’t a question. Charlie takes a shaky breath, unsure about how much he should say. Would his desperation read as too dramatic? Too undesirable? Would his enthusiasm come across as pushy or dominating? His brow must furrow again because your hand moves back up, finger pressing out the wrinkles. He shrugs.

“It’s been…a while for me. I didn’t want to come across as too…much.”

You laugh then and yet again Charlie is struck by how strange it is that you can laugh in his face directly in response to something he’s said without making him feel like you are laughing at him.

“I’m not made of glass. You won’t break me, Charlie.”

“You’re sure about that?” Charlie huffs out with a little chuckle. You give him a smirk and say your next words up against his lips.

“Try me.”

You probably were expecting him to require more cajoling. You probably were expecting him to gradually ease into something more. But Charlie takes you by surprise, grabbing you and pulling you onto the bed with him, rolling so that you’re laid out beneath his body, all the while maintaining hungry possession of your mouth. His body finds its place between your legs and you gasp at the feeling of how huge he is. How hard and insistent against your softness. He drinks from you like a man whose thirst can not be quenched. His hands find purchase on your waist and he squeezes. So hard you’re sure you’ll bruise. You smile against his mouth with the realization that you look forward to watching them bloom later.

Since Charlie seems too preoccupied with groping and making out with you, it is you who eventually takes the next step, beginning to pop open the buttons on your blouse one by one. When Charlie feels the motion of your hands between your bodies he ultimately pulls back to investigate, mouth dropping open at the slow reveal of the lingerie you’re wearing beneath. His hand shoots out to caress the delicate lace of your bra, teasingly not applying any pressure to the breast beneath.

“Do you wear things like this often?” Charlie’s voice is already rough as he asks this. You shrug.

“Whenever I want to feel sexy.”

“You wanted to feel sexy while out with me?” Charlie asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“You made me feel sexier than the lace, Mr. Barber,” you say with a smile before leaning up to capture his lower lip between your teeth. He groans and moves to practically swallow you whole. You’re entirely foreign to him. Enthusiasm, amusement, and enjoyment bundled up into one devastatingly sexy package. There’s no shame in your movements, no angst in your eyes. Just humor. Only an unabashed pursuit of pleasure. And if it’s pleasure you want, it’s pleasure you’ll get.

Charlie now aids you in the process of removing the rest of your garments, so it goes much quicker. When you move to pull off your bra, however, he catches your wrist in his massive hand.

“No…can these stay on?” Your eyebrows shoot up but you notice the way that Charlie is gazing at you with eyes slightly hazy and tongue running over his lips.

“This doing it for you, Charlie?” you tease, shimmying a bit. Charlie’s answer is sincere regardless as he dips his head down to sample the plush skin at the line of your cleavage.

“You have no idea.”

“So you’re a lingerie man, huh?” When you ask he stops to think for a second because, truly, he had never considered himself that way before. He’d never had any reason to. Sure lingerie models in magazines were hot, but it’s not a specific fantasy he’d ever explored previously.

But the sight of you here, strategically covered in lace and laid out beneath him pretty as a picture has him so hard he feels like a teenager unable to control himself. So, as you had urged him, he doesn’t.

“I might be. But really, I’m just enamored by these tits.” His teeth sink into your flesh and you sigh, especially when his tongue comes out to lave warmly at the spot. He moves down your body then, peppering kisses to the exposed skin of your stomach, sliding until your inner thighs rest against the sides of his face and his hands dip below you to squeeze your ass. “Although I feel like this might end up being my favorite part.” He says this last part directly into your clothed cunt, his lips just barely ghosting over the fabric with his words.

You wiggle a bit in his grasp, loving the answering way his fingers dig into your soft flesh. Your fingers card into his lush hair, tugging lightly at the roots, a feeling that shoots through his body and straight to his rock hard member. The way he discretely ruts against the mattress in response does not go unnoticed by you, so you drop a hand under his chin to tip his face back up to look at you.

“Will you fuck me, Charlie?” Your voice is clear and bright. Not playing coy and requiring any convincing. Just asking for something you want. And the hunger in your eyes seems unmistakable, though it still feels to good to be true. Charlie drops his gaze back down to the wet spot forming in your panties before looking back up and practically pouting.

“I’d like to taste you,” he counters. A brilliant smile breaks out across your face at the sound of that but you shake your head.

“There’ll be time for that later,” you argue, tugging on his shoulder to get him back on top of you. “If you don’t get inside me right now I’ll die.”

Charlie almost misses that last part because he’s still stuck on the first part. There’ll be time for that later. The possibility of later squeezes at Charlie’s hard and it’s only after a few echoing seconds that he’s able to process the rest of your statement with a delayed, choking laugh.

“Is someone getting dramatic on me?”

“Not yet, but I will if - ”

“If I don’t get inside you?” Charlie completes the statement in the exact moment a hand drops between your thighs and presses against the soaked fabric covering your slit. You inhale sharply.

“Exactly.”

“I didn’t take you for someone who was pushy in bed,” Charlie says good naturedly, swiping his fingers up the line of you to end with a swirl over where he assumed – correctly – your clit was. You tilt your pelvis to maximize his pressure before surging up to kiss him long and hard.

“I’m actually not. Not really,” you say breathlessly when you finally pull away and drop back down onto the pillows. You stretch luxuriously, almost like a kitten in the sun under his piercing gaze, the movement of your hips bumping his hand to rub you even better. Running your hands up and down the big, strong arms that cage you in and support him, you kiss his shoulder. “I’ve been hoping you would be.”

Suddenly your wrists are being pinned down above your head by one of Charlie’s hands. He’s got your legs open wide with his body sinking against you, hard and heavy.

“Pushy? You want me to be pushy?”

You grin big and wide at him.

“Yeah. Take charge like I know you want – oh!” You’re cut off by the welcome sensation of stimulation as Charlie’s hand drops inside your panties to slide around in your waiting slick. Without the barrier of the fabric between you, the feeling of your velvety slipperiness is enough to make him loose a growl.

He’s not hesitating and he’s not teasing anymore. Charlie has been waiting for this moment. He’s been waiting to care. Been waiting to feel. And what’s heightening the experience even more is the look on your face, the way your lips are parted and the way you gaze up at him longingly, expectantly. Providing all the evidence he needs to prove that you want this too. He wants you and you want him – what a novel idea. There are no angles or obligations, but also no shame or secrecy.

“Well if you wanted me to take charge you should have said so earlier,” he says, the corner of his lip quirking a bit as he dips two fingers inside your soaking cunt, not bothering to start with one. You gasp at the sudden intrusion. The stretch is a lot, but it is everything. Charlie sees the enjoyment register on your face, discomfort melting away almost immediately, and he begins to pull them slowly in and out to massage your walls.

“Maybe – ahh – maybe I should have,” you reply.

“Should I have caused a scene in the arcade?”

“Yes – fuck!” During an inward thrust Charlie curls his fingers up this time, rubbing against that spot in your upper wall that previous guys barely even knew was there. Before you know it he’s adding a third finger and you’re beside yourself. Charlie is elated to see how easily your body responds to his ministrations, how free you are with your reactions. He leans to down to suck a mark over your collar bone while his thumb meets your clit in tandem with his other thrusting fingers.

“You knew what you were doing when you kept rubbing that pretty little ass back into me while I taught you pinball.” His words rumbling against the skin of your throat.

“You made it so easy.”

“And you made it so hard,” Charlie counters, humor very present in his voice. You gasp out a laugh and try to tug your wrists from his grasp, but he doesn’t let you. Just keeps you pinned down as he continues to finger fuck you nice and slow.

“So impatient. I should have known. You’ve been impatient all night, haven’t you?” You whine out affirmations and screw your eyes shut as the pressure starts to build to a crescendo. Charlie picks up speed, his voice growing deeper as he continues. “Wanted me to fuck you on the pinball machine in front of everyone, didn’t you?”

You gasp and toss your head back against the pillows at that, hips bucking involuntarily. Charlie’s nose glides along the perimeter of your jaw, breathing in the scent of you as you fall apart. He’s never felt so powerful as he does with the feeling of your muscles tensing up under his fingertips. Never had the inspiration or audience for such language, but as you shiver and respond to his words, a surge of pride fills him and all he wants to do is dangle you over the edge over and over again.

“Charlie…” His name is a whimper when it falls from your lips. You’re so close. He feels it. So he pushes his fingers deep inside you, curling up with the motion, just as he sweeps one, two, three final circles into the throbbing bud of your clit.

You crest and you break against the tide of your orgasm, plummeting down from such heights you didn’t know you could reach from simple fingering. But there’s nothing simple about Charlie, the man who had been broken and put back together, only to find you, the universe’s overly generous reward for his perseverance.

Charlie’s slightly (unfocused) eyes focus on your heaving chest as you finally descend from the orgasm, but you’re the one to break the spell. Impatient is the perfect way to describe you as you wrap your legs around his middle and hook your ankles to trap him against you. You lunge up to arrest his mouth in a kiss. It’s sloppy, but just enough to distract him so that you can pull your wrists from his grasp. Once free you push him gently to the side so that you’re both rolling over, mouths still attached. He comes to rest on his back with you straddling him.

Charlie blinks up at you, taking in the way your breasts bounce in their bra cups as you busy yourself with the task of removing his clothes. He hadn’t even realized he was still in them until you began unbuttoning and pulling and pushing. Your impatience is clear once again in the way you divest him of the frustratingly excessive material and he finally gets the memo that he should help you.

With his pants and underwear pulled off and discarded, as well as the button up shirt that you had come to love as his signature look, you rest your palms flat on the plane of his chest. You’re still in your lingerie, as he had requested, only it is now beautiful askew. Your breasts now strain out of the cups, having been jostled into almost spilling out with your change of position. Your panties are sopping wet and stretched from his vigorous fingering and the evidence of your orgasm.

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

But you become even more beautiful when you wrap your hand around his aching cock, lifting up on your knees as you do so. Your fists slides up and down, up and down and he watches it, mesmerized, until you lean forward to catch his eye.

“What should I do, Charlie?”

Your face is soft and open. You’re asking for him to continue taking the lead. And Charlie realizes right then and there that he will never want to disappoint you. Snapping out his daze he lets his fingers dig into your flesh where his hands curl around your hips.

“Sit down on my cock, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The term of endearment is so sugary. He’s called his son that, but never a lover, casual or otherwise, and never during the first time. Your face, however, lights up and you do as you’re told, sinking down onto his long, hard length. The impact draws a moan from both of your throats followed by gasped phrases spoken over one another.

“You’re so big!”

“You’re so tight!”

You both laugh at the overlap but laughter turns to groans as you roll your hips experimentally. After a few moments of this, it appears that Charlie becomes the impatient one finally.

“Ride me,” he spits through gritted teeth. Your nails imprint half moons in his skin as you clench at his tone, not quite hearing the words. Charlie sucks air through his teeth at the squeeze.

“What?”

“Ride me. I need you to fucking ride me.” You can tell that he’s trying to remain cool and collected, but his brow is furrowed and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth.

So you do as he says. You lift up and drop down, feeling the length of his cock slide through your sheath with a speed that you set, establishing a rhythm that has your toes curling. You let out a particularly shameless moan and Charlie opens his eyes. They widen immediately upon seeing that you’re clutching and squeezing at your own breast with one hand while grabbing onto his hip to stabilize you with the other. The sight alone of your face, screwed up in pleasure, flips a switch in Charlie and suddenly he is thrusting up into you without mercy.

“Charlie!” you cry out, both from surprise at the increased jostling and from how tremendously good it feels.

“I should have fucked you in the arcade. I would have if I had known how good you feel.”

“I – oh fuckfuck – knew,” you barely get out. Charlie hoists you back so that he’s sitting up with his back against the headrest now. The position gives him more leverage and power so he can lift you up and down his cock, bouncing you now with a rhythm that vibrates through your entire being.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Charlie asks, engulfing one of your breasts in his huge hand. The added sensation is perfect, but not quite enough. You wonder if you can coax more.

“I knew you would feel good.” You reach down to the base of his cock, encircling it as much as possible with it’s girth, and fisting upward just as he pulls you up, therefore maximizing the squeeze on his length. Charlie inhales abruptly and drops you back down.

“Little Miss Know-it-all, are you?” His voice is harsh and it sends a thrill throughout your body. Before you can respond, you’re pushed and yanked around, losing your grip with the motion.

“What - ?” Charlie’s hand on your throat quiets you. Not because he’s truly squeezing, but because the solid warmth of his hand causes you to squeak your way to silence. His adjustments now find you pulled up to the edge of the bed, legs spread and pushed back, with Charlie standing between them. Bent over, he grounds himself with one hand on your throat and one on your hip, positioning his tip back at the entrance to your weeping cunt. You expect him to slam his hips forward, to impale you with his cock, but he pauses with the swollen head just inside your folds.

“This okay?”

This power and control, the way he is manipulating your body for your pleasure and his own – he loves it. It’s so new and yet something he now wonders how he ever did without. But he also feels the need to check in and make sure that you’re still with him. The nod you give, the sparkle in your eye, and the quirk of your lips is all it takes to convince him and then he is plowing forward, slamming himself back in again and again. You let out a full throated moan and Charlie revels in the way your eyes roll all the way back.

He wonders what else will make you do that. What else will make your eyes roll back and your toes curl and your teeth sink into your bottom lip? He wonders, as his hand presses softly into the contours of your throat, what it would feel like to squeeze a little harder, and if the pressure would make you even more desperate for him. He wonders if you like a little pain with your pleasure, as he has long suspected he might enjoy, though has never truly had the chance to confirm.

But there will be time for that.

So now, he does his best to focus in on the sounds you release. Sounds of delight and surprise and sensual thrill. He coaxes you to your second climax and you don’t fight it. You don’t demure or wait for him or hesitate. Instead you unapologetically allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure he’s built for you, seizing and quaking beneath him without shame.

The sight and feeling are so beautiful he can’t help but follow soon after, pulling out and allowing releasing all over the bra and panties you had so generously left on for him. The sight of his seed landing on the delicate lace, as you lay beneath him fucked out and smiling, causes another tremor to rock through him, and he finds that he’s still cumming long after he usually would have finished.

Charlie finds himself in a daze in the immediate aftermath of his release. He looks around for something to clean you with, and when you notice you point out a box of tissues on the desk. After he’s done his best to wipe you up, you give him a kiss on the cheek. The mundane intimacy of the act makes him blush all the way to the hidden tips of his ears. It is absurd because you had just had sex, however the press of your lips to his skin seemed to seal the deal. This was not transactional. It was something more, Charlie can’t help but think to himself as you get up from the bed and skip to the bathroom.

In your absence Charlie again registers the smallness of your room. How large – out of place, maybe – he is amongst your delicate things. He pulls on his underwear and sits back down on the mattress, unsure.

Unsure about your expectations. Unsure about whether or not you’d want him to leave. Or stay.

Before he can make a decision in either direction you are bounding back into the room, a smile on your face. Your face is freshly washed and you’re in a faded, oversized tank top, having divested yourself of your abused lingerie. Charlie swallows at the sight of your breasts, free and outlined beneath the soft fabric. He adjusts his hands in his lap. No need to let you see him getting worked up again so soon like some horny teenager. You don’t seem to notice, instead slipping easily into bed beside him, shimmying under the covers and patting the space beside you so that he does the same.

So stay he will.

Once you’re both comfortable and situated, you slide into his arms, drawing them around your body without a question or seemingly a second though. Much like the way you’d slid into his life, Charlie thinks ruefully, nuzzling his face into the top of your head as you tuck in beneath his chin.

“Charlie?”

“Hm?”

“I know you always go to that diner on 15th for breakfast,” you begin, and Charlie’s heart spasms. Both at the thought of breakfast with you and the fact that you so casually know details about him. About his likes and his habits. He pulls you in a little tighter and nods his head.

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind if I show you a new place in the morning? I think you’ll really like it.”

And Charlie laughs. Because of course you’d want to push him out of his comfort zone. It’s what you do – push him to try new things. Push him to do things he wouldn’t usually consider. Push him to be the man he’d been working so hard for the past year to be.

“Yes, but I’m not changing the way I order my eggs,” he grumbles with humor, kissing the crown of your head. “Not yet.”

~*~

The next morning you order first, and you’ve never had breakfast with Charlie before, so when he asks for the same dish, you can’t possibly know that this is his first time ordering eggs Florentine.

As you both laugh and eat and sip coffee in the outdoor seating area of the quaint café you’d picked, fingers intertwined between you on the wrought iron table, you also can’t know that this is the happiest Charlie has felt in ages.

But he makes it his mission, right there and then, to do everything in his power to make you feel the same.

~*~

Tagging some lovely friends (please let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged in the future!): @celestiasin @tlcwrites @noocturnalchild @thedivinemissn @insufferablelust @edencherries @historyandfandoms50 @lostinthedrive @thewilddingleberries @mariesackler @safarigirlsp @direnightshade @sacklerscumrag @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @mrs-zimmerman @maryforyou @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo @millenialcatlady @soggywhore @transparentmeoo @leia-suns @alpha-lobito

#paper-n-ashes #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #Charlie Barber/reader #Charlie Barber/you #Charlie Barber fanfiction #Charlie Barber smut #marriage story fanfiction #Marriage Story smut #writing #smut #Roanniom #tw: unprotected sex #tw: choking

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goodwriterwithbadhabits · 3 years ago

Text

Want Me

This is, a lot more than anything I've ever written, but I hope you like it.

Master List

When Chan had told Stays he had a gift for them today, you had anticipated something like the valentines date. Maybe even Hyunjin’s surprise appearance. What you definitely weren’t expecting was your boyfriend to basically strip in front of literally the whole world.

“Oh. My god.” Your reaction was subconscious, and totally not something you wanted your roommate, Sungmi, to hear. Your eyes were the size of saucers as you stared at your phone.

“What’s up?” Her interest was piqued the second you made a sound, and being you, you did the one thing you could think of.

You threw your phone as far from yourself as possible.

The two of you watch it sail across the living room and land safely in the dirty clothes hamper neither of you had moved from the hallway to the washer.

“Uh, you good?”

“Wow, look at that laundry!” You exclaim, “Someone should go do it.” You can’t even jump up from the couch when her hand is wrapping around your ankle, pulling you onto the floor.

“Was it Chan’s performance?” Your face immediately goes crimson. “No,” You lie, poorly. “What performance? I didn’t even know he was performing. I should go do the laundry.” You’re talking like you’re the flash, and while she’s attempting to figure out what you said, you attempt to wrench your leg from her grip. Unfortunately her brain power is faster that you can get your arms under you, though you do manage to yank her off the couch with you.

“Get back here!” She huffs, yanking you closer to her and somehow managing to sit on your pelvis. “You saw the Wolfgang performance didn’t you?” She demands, but your answer is more struggling to knock her over. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/n.” She drops forward, pinning your arms by your head, and if she were literally anyone else, you would probably think this was super hot.

“Curse your shockingly strong legs.”

“Nine years of waterpolo.” She explains.

“Really? Damn, I should start playing.”

“You’re stalling.”

“No I’m not.” You lie, again. She rolls her eyes, dropping her head a little more to knock her forehead against yours. “Ow.”

“Be honest with me.”

“I am.”

“No you’re not.” She bonks your head again, “Stop lying.”

“Will you get off me?”

“When we’re done talking.”

“Then yes, I saw Chan’s Wolfgang performance.” She nods, letting go of your hands to sit up properly and crush your pelvis a little more.

“I thought it was pretty hot.” She confesses and you feel something bubble in your chest. You can’t help the slight twitch in your brows and of course she notices. “Ah! Jealousy!”

“I’m not jealous.” She taps your forehead, aggressively enough to hurt a little. “Ow.”

“You can’t lie to a Psychology major.”

“I’m not-” She raises her finger again and you relent. “Alright, fine. Maybe I’m not a huge fan of someone telling me they think my boyfriend is hot to my face.”

“Did you think it was hot?” Your face grows warm and you have to bite back an embarrassed smile.

“I’m not answering that.”

“You don’t have to. You’d be stupid to think otherwise.”

“Especially when he was in the white shirt.” You admit, and she nods.

“You should see if he’ll wear something like that next time you two decide to get all hot and heavy.” Your face flushes again, not really wanting to discuss your sexlife with someone you’ve only actually known for about seven months.

“Um yeah, totally.”

“Oh my god. You guys don’t do stuff!”

“We do stuff!” You defend, immediately regretting it.

“Oh really? Ever used handcuffs?” On him, or me?

“I don’t have to answer that.”

“So that's a no. How about, have you ever sent him a nude?” Oh, if only you knew.

“Get off me.”

“Another no.” She grins, “I’m shocked, he seems like such a feisty boy, you’d think he’d do stuff.” “Seriously, get off.” There’s no humor in your voice now. It wasn’t her place to tell you about your own boyfriend, and you were getting sick of her forcing her way into your love life.

“Oh come on Y/n.” She doesn’t get another word out before you grab her leg and wrench her sideways. Instead of just tossing her onto the floor, you find yourself slamming your hand into the floor by her head, now leaning over her.

“Stay out of my love life, do you hear me?” You practically growl, “I don’t need your help to please my boyfriend.” Her eyes go wide at your words, and you instantly become aware of your positions when a smirk paints itself on her face.

“My, my Y/n. I didn’t peg you as someone who’d be on top.”

“Clearly.” You reply. “Now are you quite done?”

“Have you ever topped him? He seems like the kind of guy who wouldn’t like that.”

“Once again, I don’t have to answer that.”

“You should try it. Something tells me you’ll like it.”

“Shut up.”

“I hate you.” It had been hours since your rather sexually charged conversation with her, and here you were standing at her doorway seeking advice. You hadn’t stopped thinking about what she had said, but in all honesty, Chan was your first, so you had no clue what you were doing most of the time.

“Oh? Is that why you’re looking all lost and confused at my door?” Her voice is sickeningly sweet as she looks at you in the mirror. “What up?”

“I need advice.”

“Wear black, it looks good on everyone.” Her gaze shifts back to her reflection, where she’s curling her hair for a date.

“About Chan.” Her attention turns back to you in an instant and you’re tempted to run back to your room.

“In what sense?”

“What you said earlier.” A wicked grin spreads on her face. “Have a seat darling.” You trudge over to her bed, sitting on the trunk at the end to watch her. “First off, tell me this, who initiates sex usually?”

“He does.” You admit quietly. “Babe, if you want my help, you gotta be able to talk about sex without turning into a tomato. I mean, how are you sexually active and still blushing like a virgin. Next you're going to tell me you only do it missionary with the lights off.”

“Well…” Her mouth drops open in horror.

“Oh my god.” She gasps. “No wonder you’re all annoyed these days. You’re not satisfied.”

“Hey, he gets me off,” You defend, “And he’s very good at it.” You practically swoon just thinking about it. She raises her hands in surrender, but smiles at your answer.

“Have you ever asked him for oral?”

“How the hell do I bring that up in casual conversation? Just “Hey babe, you did wonderful today, do you want to eat me out’.”

“Well if it works.”

“No.”

“Okay, have you ever worn lingerie for him?”

“No, but I did buy something to wear a few months ago.” She nods, approving.

“How come you’ve never worn it?”

“Between Kingdom and the fact that he lives with seven other men, there hasn’t exactly been a time and place.”

“That’s fair. When do you guys usually do it? What’s it like? Just broad details.”

“He tells me he wants to spend the night. I usually get a hotel room, since my parents are still sending me money for rent, and we arrive at separate times. Its usually really sweet and slow.”

“And after?” She prompts.

“We shower, and cuddle. He usually leaves first cause he has practice or something.”

“Ever done it in the shower?” You shake your head, shoulders slumping as you realize how lame everything sounds.

“I really like him, but I think, especially since you said he seems like a kinky type, what if he’s not as into me?”

“I don’t think that’s the case.” She turns her chair towards you, setting a hand on your knee. “I think you’re both too nervous to broach the subject. I know this is your first real relationship, and it might be his too.”

“So, what should I do?”

“Start simple.” She turns back to her mirror, “You should book a room, and jazz it up a little. Rose petals, candles, maybe that set you bought. That way its obvious you want him.”

“That's not a bad idea.”

“Even better! I will go halfsies on one of the fancy hotels with you. I know one that has these huge bathtubs so you can take one together, and the shower has a stone floor, so its not slippery. Oh! We can get you a pretty silk robe, so you can do the dramatic reveal.”

“This sounds like a lot. How about for now, I just do the candles and the set?” She laughs, clearly embarrassed by the way she fiddles with her necklace.

“Sounds like a plan. You can do the big one for your anniversary.” You nod, agreeing with her.

“I can do it tonight, he’ll probably want some stress relief after that performance.” You offer her a sly smile, jumping up to leave the room.

“Where are you going?” She calls after you.

“I gotta go buy some candles.”

Hey lover, come meet me. *Y/n shared her location*

You glanced over at the message again as you adjusted the black lace garterbelt. Sungmi had been right, black did look amazing on everyone. He had read the message, and if you were lucky, he was too busy driving over to text you back. You slid the black skirt up your legs, loving the way it stopped just under the edge of the thigh highs. The last piece was a simple t shirt, it was a little ripped and hung off one shoulder, just giving a slight peekaboo of the bra you had spent way too much money on. If Chan didn’t combust from seeing you in this, you were going to have a fun night.

Carefully you moved your things out of the main room, tucking them in the closet for safe keeping, and began lighting the candles. The sweet aroma of vanilla and lavender wafted through the room as you shut the lights off. You settled on the edge of the bed, taking a few risque selfies to show Sungmi and maybe send Chan later.

And then you waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Babe?

Three hours, that's how long you’d been waiting before you finally texted him again, having run out of excuses for the man.

“Sorry babe, I was working. Do you still want me to come to you?”

Not really, after this long, the wonder had worn off, and you just felt stupid and hurt. Of course he wasn’t going to come if you asked.

No. Its fine.

Actually, I want to talk to you. Are you still at the studio?

You set your phone down, turn the lights back on and begin blowing out candles. You don’t bother changing, just grab your sneakers and your bag before heading out, tucking your key and phone in your bra as you leave the building.

With some take out in hand you make your way to the JYP building, not at all surprised to see several lights still on.

“Woah, hel-lo Y/n.” You instantly smile at Jae’s greeting, which is followed by Brian’s whistle. “You look like a full course meal, girl.”

“Hey boys, what had you here so late, its past midnight?”

“Oh we were just-” Jae glances over at Brian who clears his throat.

“Just working. What about you?”

“Chan’s still working, so I brought some food.” You shrug, heading towards the elevators, “Have a good night.

“You too.” You have to bite your lip so you don’t laugh at Brian smacking Jae’s shoulder, earning a whine from the taller boy.

The lights from the studios are all off when you arrive, but you can see the glow of the computer shining from Chan’s. You knock as you open the door, making him jump and yank his headphones off when the light from the hall hits him. His face lights up in a smile when he sees you. Of course, he’s wearing super tight jeans and a black button up, neither of which were not helping you relax.

“Oh hey baby, I didn’t know you were coming.” He stands to greet you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

“I texted you.” You tell him, which has him looking guilty.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear it when I’m working.” You smile reassuringly at him.

“That's okay, I know, that’s why I just came over.” You hold up the bag of take out, “I also brought food since you forget to eat when you start working.”

“You are the light of my life.” He sighs, kissing you properly this time as he takes the bag. Your heart flutters from his words, some of the butterflies in your stomach coming back from the dead. You sit across from him, stealing his work chair as he spreads the food out on the table and digs in. It takes him a few minutes to notice that you’re just staring, and he finally stops eating to say something, “You okay? How come you aren’t eating?”

“I already ate.” You lie, but he sees right through it, setting his chopsticks down to look at you properly. You watch his eyes rake across your body, finally seeing the lace stockings and the matching bra.

“That’s not it. You’re disappointed.” He realizes, “You looked the same way when you saw I.Ns grades.” He explains before you can even open your mouth to answer. “I know its not our anniversary, and your birthday already passed.”

“Its nothing babe. I just had a stupid idea for tonight.” The words come spilling out of your mouth before you can stop them. He looks at your outfit again and a cheeky smile begins to grow on his face.

“Were you-? But you never-” He lets out a deep breath, followed by a small giggle, which doesn’t make you feel better.

“I should head home.” You spring up, heading towards the door. “Enjoy your dinner.” He catches your arm before you get too far, pulling you back to wrap his arms around you.

“What did you have planned, baby girl?” Your heart flutters at the pet name, and the low tone his voice had taken on. “You wouldn’t have gotten all dressed up like this for nothing.” HIs free hand trails down your side, coming to the edge of your skirt, where his fingers find the skin just above the top of your stockings.

“Maybe I just wanted to make sure you want me as much as I want you.” You confess.

“Baby girl.” His voice is soft now, “Of course I want you.” His lips brush the skin of your neck as he speaks, sending shivers across your whole body.

“Then how come we never do anything interesting?”

“Like what?” Your confidence grows as you turn to face him, looping a finger through the choker he wears.

“Maybe I don’t want to do the same thing every time we fuck.” You can see from the way his eyebrows hike up that he’s startled by your words, hell, you were startled by them. “Maybe I want to see you.” Your other hand moves up to his face, trailing your thumb over his lips. “Maybe I don’t always want to be in a bed, in the dark, on my back. Maybe I want to be in charge.”

“I don’t think you could handle that baby girl.” He bites at your thumb as he finishes his sentence.

“Try me, Chris.” You challenge. His hands come up to your cheeks, pulling you in for a searing kiss. For a few seconds, your brain forgets what you had just challenged. He doesn’t help as he pulls away from your lips, his trailing across your cheek and down your neck.

“Sit.” You order, pulling away, trying to keep your breathing steady and not let on how affected you were.

“Excuse me?”

“Sit. Down.” You order again, shoving him lightly towards his computer chair. He backs up slowly, collapsing into it, eyes never leaving you.

“What are you doing?” He asks as you turn away from him.

“Proving a point.” You declare, the click of his lock emphasizing your words.

“Oh?” You turn back to him, finding him relaxed as ever, watching you with his legs spread wide. You saunter towards him, standing between his legs, hands on the arm rests. “You really think you can handle this baby?”

“If I impress you, you’ll save your work and we head over to the hotel.”

“And if you don’t?”

“You save your work and we head over to the hotel anyway.”

“Bet.”

“You might regret that, baby.” You push on the chair, sending it back until it connects with his desk.

“Oh really?” He asks, as you push his knees together slightly so you can straddle his lap. Your fingers trail from his shoulders down to the buttons on his shirt, popping them open one at a time.

“You talk too much.” You tell him, leaning forward to press kisses along his neck. Just as you hit his pulse point, he hisses, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “Ah ah ah.” You chastise, pulling away from his neck. “No touching.” You pull his hands away, dropping them on the arm rests instead. “Hands to yourself.”

“Oh you are in for it when we get to the hotel.” He groans as you nip at his skin.

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

#bang chan imagines #bang chan imagine #chris bang imagine #chris bang imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagine #almost smut #goodwriterwithbadhabits

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rosiehunterwolf · 3 years ago

Text

stuck with you (through bright and blue)

Prompts: Protective

Word Count: 4,400

Characters: The squad

Timeline: Pre-movie movie!verse

Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, Toxic Friendship

Summary: Kai only wants two things: to protect Lloyd, and to give him the best birthday ever. Unfortunately, Lloyd seems hell-bent on making that as difficult as possible. Kai’s always prided himself on achieving the impossible, but dealing with human emotions is much more complicated than beating up Garmadon’s generals or shooting enemies with fire, as he quickly learns. Movie!verse

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Read on Ao3

Tumblr work under the cut

“Woah, it looks like a massacre in here.”

At the sound of Cole’s voice, Kai, Jay, Lloyd, and Zane looked up from the map they had sprawled out across the table. Red pen was everywhere, circling different buildings and connecting them with lines.

“We’re having trouble finding a venue for Lloyd’s party,” Zane explained.

Nya rolled her eyes. “It’s not that hard! Just pick somewhere!” She held a hand out, shaking her phone. “We have five days until his birthday. Most places require at least that many to book a reservation. If we don’t decide today, we’ll have nowhere to go.”

“We can’t just pick anywhere,” Kai insisted. “It has to be perfect!”

“Why don’t we just go to the arcade?”

“It’s always so busy there.”

“It’s a Wednesday night! How many people are going to be there?”

“Trust me,” Jay said, “It’s still busy. It always is.”

Cole peered at the map. “Why’d you cross off the movie theater? Isn’t there a new Starfarer movie Lloyd’s been wanting to see?”

Kai shook his head. “Tickets sold out in like five hours. By the time school was over and we got over there, they were all gone.”

Jay frowned, running his fingers along one of the major streets. “What’s your favorite restaurant, Lloyd?”

“A restaurant? Are you serious?” Cole laughed. “We’d get kicked out in ten minutes.”

“Why can’t we just do it at my place?” Lloyd murmured. “I don’t need anything big deal.”

Kai frowned. “Your apartment isn’t that big, Lloyd. And I don’t want to bother your mom with all the decorations and stuff.”

Lloyd shrugged, looking down. “It doesn’t need to be big.”

“If you really want something simple,” Nya said, “why don’t we just do it at the warehouse? It’ll just be us, but there’s lots of space.”

Zane nodded. “That space would suffice. We would just have to ask Master Wu.”

“That is, if you’re certain that’s what you want.” Nya looked at Lloyd closely. “You sure you don’t want to do anything else?”

Lloyd nodded.

“Positive, bud?” Kai pushed. “Because it’s your birthday. We don’t mind at all.”

“I’m fine,” Lloyd insisted, getting to his feet. “It’s just another day on the calendar. Don’t make such a big fuss.”

The ninja fell silent.

“Lloyd,” Nya murmured, “it is a big deal to us.”

“Sorry. I’m just tired. And I’ve got homework. I should go.”

“Lloyd, wait-”

The green ninja pulled away from Kai’s outstretched hand. “I’m fine, Kai. I just have to go. Call me if you need anything.”

---

When they went back to school on Monday, their teachers loaded them with assignments, and Kai didn’t have a spare minute to talk to Lloyd in their shared classes. He couldn’t even talk at lunch because Lloyd had to make up a test. He kept his eyes peeled for his friend every time he was in the hallways, but if there was one thing Lloyd was good at, it was not being seen.

At the end of the school day, Nya texted him to meet up near their lockers. He got there and found her huddled around her locker with Cole, Jay, and Zane.

Kai walked over to them. “What’s going on? Where’s Lloyd?”

“He said he’d catch up with us later, which is why now is the perfect time for party preparation,” Jay said, gesturing towards Nya, who had a fiercely determined look on her face and was tightly clutching a clipboard. “Apparently she’s been waiting her whole life for this.”

“Alright.” Nya looked up from her clipboard. “I’ve already got streamers and gift wrap at home. What about you guys?”

“I’ve got a banner ordered with his name on it,” Cole said. “And of course, the shark tablecloths-”

Jay blinked. “Sharks?”

“Yeah. He loves sharks.”

“No, no, no, you’ve got it all wrong! We’re getting the dragon ones! He loves dragons!”

“Well, yeah, duh, but he’d obviously like the shark one better.”

“Are you kidding? Sharks would remind him of his dad’s mechs!” “Yeah, well, dragons remind him of his mech, which also reminds him of fighting his dad.”

“Totally not the same, plus dragons are way cooler-”

“Okay, we’re going with the Starfarer ones, then,” Nya grumbled. “What about balloons? Who’s covering-”

“I have balloons,” Zane interrupted. “Two hundred and seventy-five of them.”

They gawked at him.

“Zane… why do you have so many balloons just lying around?” Jay asked.

“They are new! In the package! I can blow them up for Lloyd’s birthday party-”

“Shhhhh!” Four pairs of hands immediately pushed over his mouth, silencing him, even though they were the only ones in the very empty hallway.

“No one can find out,” Cole insisted. “This is Lloyd’s special day. We’re not about to let anyone ruin it.”

“Okay, so Zane’s got the balloons.” Nya ticked another item off the list. “What about the cake? I have most of the ingredients to make one at home, but I’m completely lacking the baking skills.”

Cole nodded. “I can bake a cake. What’s his favorite kind?”

“Lloyd likes that Funfetti one,” Kai murmured.

Cole’s nose wrinkled. “I’m not baking a box mix. I can get him the rainbow sprinkles, though, and make a homemade one.”

“Okay, sounds good. Jay, could you pick up some confetti before his birthday? And Zane, we need some fun paper plates.”

“Zane, you should get shark ones.”

“No, dragons!” “Zane will pick out whichever plates he likes,” Nya snapped.

“What about gifts?” Jay asked. “What are you guys getting?”

“I’m not telling you,” Nya yelped. “I have the best gift ever and I don’t want you stealing any ideas.”

“I’ve been setting aside pieces of my allowance for a month,” Cole grinned. “It’s gonna be sweet.”

Jay blinked at him expectantly, and Cole smirked. “I’m not telling you, either, blabbermouth.”

“Blabbermouth?” he yelped. “I can keep secrets perfectly fine, thank you.”

“Oh yeah? What about that time you nearly gave away all of our ninja identities?”

“Or-” Zane added, “when he and Lloyd were working on those surprise mech upgrades and he accidentally said something in front of Kai and Nya?”

“Oh, remember when he spoiled the finale of Cole’s favorite show?” Nya grinned. “Cole was pissed.”

“Okay, okay, so there were a few times,” Jay spluttered. “But those were a while ago! I have many more secrets that I have kept than I haven’t.”

Cole crossed his arms, smirking. “Name one.”

“Well, there was that one time, where I- hey!” He stopped, glaring at Cole. “You’re trying to trick me into telling you a secret!”

“And it very nearly worked. So no. You can’t know.”

Nya shrugged. “Sorry, Jay. He’s right. When you have a secret, you get nervous. And when you’re nervous, you talk. A lot. It would only be a matter of time before you spilled everything to Lloyd.”

“Fine,” Jay muttered. “Keep your secrets.”

Kai jumped slightly as Nya elbowed him, and she frowned. “You okay? You’ve been really quiet.”

Kai shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Is it just me, or… did Lloyd seem like he doesn’t really want a birthday party?”

The others went quiet.

“We’re not going to not give him a party,” Nya insisted. “You know how he gets. He never wants anyone to make a fuss.” Her brow furrowed. “It’s like he still can’t get it into his skull that we care about him.”

“I mean, of course I want to, it’s just… we can’t force him to do anything he doesn’t want.” Kai bit his lip. “It’s been a rough past few months for him. I just want him to be happy.”

“We all do,” Cole agreed. “Lloyd deserves a night just about him, for once.”

Zane frowned. “But how are we supposed to give him the party that he wants if he won’t tell us what he wants?”

“Let me try to talk to him,” Kai said. “He might open up more if it’s just one of us there.”

---

Lloyd, in fact, did not want to talk.

He was more open during their classes the next day, and held casual conversation with him, but forcefully avoided the topic of his birthday whenever Kai brought it up.

He huffed with frustration. What kind of kid didn’t want to celebrate their birthday? He wished Lloyd would just tell him what was going on.

He wasn’t going to, though, so naturally, the next best thing was to follow him.

He wouldn’t call it spying- just finding another way of obtaining information when Lloyd refused to give it himself. Besides, he was doing this to help Lloyd, not to hurt him.

Kai jerked himself out of his thoughts as Lloyd nearly slipped from his view. He gritted his teeth, refocusing on him. Lloyd wasn’t an easy person to follow, either.

When he finally caught up to him, keeping a reasonable distance, of course, Lloyd was hovering near his locker. An unfamiliar, dark-haired kid was leaning against it, laughing at something as Lloyd smiled uneasily. Kai edged closer, his frown deepening.

“Where’s the spike head? And the rest of your gang?”

“Kai?” Lloyd shifted. “I dunno. He probably had homework and stuff to do.”

The guy shrugged. “I kind of found him annoying, anyway. You realize no one could ever get to you when your friends were around, right?”

“I guess that’s… kind of the point.”

“You can’t spend your whole life letting them protect you. If you block out any person who hurts you, you block out anyone who could potentially be a friend, too.” The guy smiled in a way that made Kai wanted to chuck himself between Lloyd and the guy.

“That’s… that’s the thing. No one wants to be nice to me.”

“Spare me the sob story,” the guy rolled his eyes. “I know your dad sucks, but at least you have one.”

Lloyd flinched. “Sorry.”

The guy laughed, putting a hand on his shoulder and shoving him. “Stop being so jumpy, will ya? No wonder kids pick on you, you’re as harmless as a flea.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Lloyd blinked. “I can’t hit them back, or I’ll be in more trouble than I already am.”

“You don’t need to hit them, just show them you’re not a total coward! Maybe if you actually listen to them instead of cringing away, things might change.”

“Listen to them? Are you saying they’re right?”

“What does it matter if they’re right? Look, Lloyd, you’ve already got it hard enough as it is, and you’re making everything more difficult. You’d be so much cooler if you actually hung out with important people and not the outcast-losers you’ve stationed yourself with.”

For the first time since the conversation had started, Lloyd appeared indignant. “They’re not- I mean, you’re not-”

The guy laughed. “See? You can’t even get a word out. You’re so pathetic. You don’t even need the fact that you’re Garmadon’s son to get picked on, you already got it all set up for the torment-”

Kai wasn’t aware of himself pushing forward, he just was, and suddenly he was gripping the guy by the collar of his shirt, a pair of wide, brown eyes staring fearfully up into his.

“Who do you think you are and what the hell are you doing?”

“I… um, I…” the guy swallowed, his throat running dry.

“You treating my best friend like a piece of shit?” Kai shook him. “Are you?”

“I’m sorry!” The guy squirmed. “I didn’t really mean it, we were just joking around, he says that kind of stuff to me all the time!”

“Really? Lloyd. Says that. You sure we’re talking about the same person? Because I do not take nicely to liars.”

The guy squirmed harder. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! Just please let me go, I’ll never bother you again!” Kai shot him the fiercest glare he could muster. “You better not.” He stepped back, dropping the kid, and he took off like a bullet.

Turning back to Lloyd, he saw his friend was staring at the fleeing boy with wide, disbelieving eyes, but it quickly dissipated to anger as he turned to Kai. “What the heck did you do that for?”

Kai’s eyes widened. “I was protecting you? From a bully?” Lloyd’s eyes flashed, and Kai actually took a step back. “I don’t need you to protect me! I can fight my own battles!”

Before Kai could even say anything, Lloyd was storming down the hallway and disappearing around the corner.

Kai just stood there for a moment, in shock. What was that all about? Hadn’t he done the same thing for Lloyd a dozen times? Why would defending him ever be bad?

A buzz in his pocket interrupted his thoughts. Kai pulled out his phone to see a new message in the chat from his sister.

irondragonfangirl: how r things going with lloyd

MasterofFiyaaaaa: honestly? i think i made it worse

irondragonfangirl: well u better find a way to fix it soon because his bday’s TOMORROW

MasterofFiyaaaaa: yeah i’ll find a way through to him

MasterofFiyaaaaa: i just hope he listens

irondragonfangirl: don’t worry

irondragonfangirl: he will

irondragonfangirl: just make sure u remember to listen to him too

irondragonfangirl: i have a feeling we haven’t been doing that enough

irondragonfangirl: i feel terrible

MasterofFiyaaaaa: yeah me too

MasterofFiyaaaaa: we’ll make it up to him though

MasterofFiyaaaaa: right?

irondragonfangirl: sure as long as cole doesn’t burn this cake

irondragonfangirl: seriously y did we let him bake it

irondragonfangirl: if i dont respond in the next hour just assume his house burnt down and im dead

MasterofFiyaaaaa: can i have your motorcycle if you die

irondragonfangirl: shut up

---

Kai spent an hour looking for Lloyd after their confrontation, but he couldn’t find him anywhere, and Lloyd, unsurprisingly, hadn’t answered any of the twenty-some texts Kai had sent him, either. Eventually, he had to give up looking for him and resigned to speaking to him at school tomorrow.

His birthday.

In the first class they had together, Lloyd avoided looking at him, and Kai felt an ache in his chest. Today was his birthday. He knew things weren’t going to turn out like he had imagined, but he wanted them to at least be better than this.

Swallowing back his nerves, Kai walked over to him, where he was doodling something in his notebook.

Kai cleared his throat. “Um. Lloyd?”

Lloyd looked up, an expression flashing across his face that Kai couldn’t read, but he didn’t immediately leave or turn away from him, which Kai took as a good sign.

“Happy birthday, dude.”

Lloyd smiled tentatively back. “Thanks.”

Things didn’t go immediately back to normal after that- there was still a tension between them, and Lloyd wasn’t saying much more than a couple sentences at a time, firmly avoiding the topic of the previous day- but at least it was back to a level where Kai didn’t feel absolutely horrible for ruining his day. Lunch, at least, got a smile out of him- as well as a bunch of embarrassed blushing as Nya stabbed a candle into his brownie (they couldn’t actually light it, lighters weren’t allowed on campus) and they insisted on singing to him so off-key that Cole looked like he wanted to punch them.

When the last bell finally rang, Kai headed over to Lloyd’s locker, hoping they could talk now that there weren’t other kids around, but he wasn’t there.

Kai relented, pulling out his phone.

MasterofFiyaaaaa: Lloyd? i know youre upset but can we plz talk?

He held his breath, staring at the screen intensely, as if that would make Lloyd respond.

While he was waiting, a message from a group chat popped up.

irondragonfangirl: what’s taking so long jay, we need those decorations

jaybird123: eta 5 mins

jaybird123: i literally just left class how’d you get there so fast

jaybird123: wait you didn’t use the tunnels did you

irondragonfangirl: no me and cole are bringing the CAKE remember?

irondragonfangirl: im not taking that through the tunnel

irondragonfangirl: we didnt spend 3 hrs on that for it to get squished

irondragonfangirl: i told the nurse i wasn’t feeling well so i could go home early

irondragonfangirl: why didnt YOU take them

jaybird123: i couldn’t exactly discreetly smuggle all these decorations into my locker

jaybird123: mmm cake. is it good?

irondragonfangirl: don’t even THINK about it, that’s not until Lloyd gets here

jaybird123: but im hungryyyy

jaybird123: do i need to pick up anything for dinner?

rock’n’cole: nah it’s cool, we just found out lloyd’s favorite chinese restaurant, the Bamboo Dragon, delivers so we’re gonna order from there

jaybird123: my mouth is watering already

ZaneJulien:0xD;): Jay, you shouldn’t text while driving.

jaybird123: tell nya to get off my case then!

irondragonfangirl: exCUSE me zane you are supposed to be putting up those balloons right now why are YOU on your phone

ZaneJulien:0xD;): Why are you texting me? We are in the same room.

irondragonfangirl: why are YOU texting ME

rock’n’cole: would you guys just stop being dumb and come help me

irondragonfangirl: great now you got cole in on it too

rock’n’cole: would you two just GET OFF YOUR PHONES

Kai was interrupted from whatever turn the conversation was going to take next when he finally got another notification.

thegreendragon: ok. you know where i’ll be

Kai blinked, turning towards the doors and pushing through them, walking out onto the school lawn. The main feature was the football stadium, although there were other things as well- large trees, garden patches for the science classes, picnic tables for eating lunch outside, if the weather permitted. And- although the students were too old for recess, now- there was still a small swing set- a simple, rusty thing, with only two swings, but it served its purpose. Sitting on one of them, gently rocking, was Lloyd.

Kai made his way over, sitting down beside him in the other swing.

“So, uh… can we talk? About yesterday?”

Lloyd nodded, and Kai titled his head at him, trying to gauge his thoughts. “Who was that kid?”

Lloyd breathed out slowly. “His name is Brad. He was my best- and only- friend in elementary school, but we were separated when I moved away. Brad’s family just recently moved to Ninjago City, and I… I was hoping to reconnect with him.”

Kai ignored the twinge of jealousy at the words “best friends.” Lloyd was allowed to have other people than him in his life, and things had obviously changed since then, anyway.

“I’m sorry, Lloyd. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, but from what I saw… Brad was being a jerk to you.”

Lloyd shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I… he’s changed since we were kids. The efforts at rekindling our friendship honestly aren’t going so well. That’s… that’s why I was in a bad mood. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You were only trying to do something nice for me.” “Don’t worry about me. But this Brad kid… anyone who treats you like that doesn’t deserve to be your friend.”

“I know, I just…” Lloyd sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I was so eager to make a friend other than you guys…” His eyes widened as he processed his own words. “Not there’s anything wrong with you guys, it’s just- I just wanted to actually earn someone who wasn’t friends with me because of a shared occupation.”

Kai elbowed him. “Hey. This whole ninja thing may be what got us introduced to each other, but we’re not friends with you because you’re one of the ninja. We’re your friends because we love you as a person. As Lloyd, not the green ninja.”

Lloyd sniffed, giving him a soft smile. “Thanks, Kai. I’m glad I have you to protect me.”

“You don’t need protection, but you’re stuck with me as a best friend, so you’re going to get it, anyway.”

Lloyd laughed. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His phone buzzed, and he quickly checked it.

irondragonfangirl: the party’s all set up, now the only thing missing is lloyd. did you get to talk to him?

MasterofFiyaaaaa: yeah, we’re cool now. on our way

Kai turned back to Lloyd. “C’mon, green machine. Let’s go enjoy your birthday.”

Lloyd blinked at him. “Huh?”

“Your party, remember? The one Nya and the guys have spent the whole week planning? Or is there some other celebration I don’t know about?”

Lloyd shook his head. “No, no, it’s just- I thought I messed it all up.”

“Don’t worry, we got it under control.”

“Really?”

“This is our teammates you’re talking about! Stubborn as mules. They’re not giving up on you that easily.”

“I… thank you. Thank you guys.”

“You can tell them yourself. We’re going to this party, and we’re going to have fun!”

---

Kai had to admit, he was impressed with what the others had been able to pull off in such a short amount of time.

It was nothing huge or extravagant, but it was a nice little party, and Lloyd seemed to like it better like that, anyway.

They were barely through the doors of the warehouse when Jay was launching himself into Lloyd’s arms, pulling him into a tight hug, the others close behind.

“Happy birthday!” they cheered.

Lloyd hugged them back, laughing. “Thanks, guys, I didn’t- I didn’t expect all this!”

“Are you kidding?” Nya put her hands on her hips, grinning. “We’re pulling out all the stops for our baby bro.”

Lloyd’s smile briefly flickered to a scowl. “I’m not a baby.”

“To us, you always will be,” Kai said, slinging an arm around his shoulders and ruffling his hair. Lloyd squirmed away, although he was unable to hide the grin on his face.

“Wow, this place really looks different.” Lloyd gazed around at the warehouse with wide eyes. They had pushed aside training equipment to make room for tables and chairs, and green and gold streamers decorated the walls, adorned by multicolored balloons. Someone had plugged a gaming console into the TV, as well as a DVD player next to a box of DVDs- which must’ve been Jay’s, he was the only person Kai knew, apart from Master Wu, who even had DVDs anymore- because Kai still hadn’t been able to convince Master Wu to buy them Netflix on the warehouse’s TV, getting the TV there in the first place had been hard enough as it was. On the far end was a buffet table, filled with rice, chicken, dumplings, and other Chinese staples from the Bamboo Dragon- as well as a beautiful, heavily frosted cake in the center of it all. It was decorated with rainbow sprinkles, making it completely and uniquely Lloyd.

Lloyd’s eyes were on the cake too, his eyes wide. “Cole! It looks amazing! I never knew you were so good at making cakes!”

Cole shrugged, trying to hide his smile. “I’ve had some experience.”

“Hey! What makes you think Cole made it?” Nya sniffed.

Cole blinked. “I did.”

“Well, I helped.”

Cole snorted. “Don’t know if you could call it that. From my point of view, it seems like I was doing most of the work while you were busy texting your boo.”

Both Nya and Jay turned scarlet.

“I was not,” Nya spluttered. “I was making preparations for Lloyd’s party!” “Yeah, yeah, whatever you have to tell yourself.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions too hastily,” Jay said, turning to walk over to the cake. “The true judge of quality will be how good it tastes.”

Nya stuck an arm in front of him. “Not so fast, mister! Dinner first.”

After laughing, playing games, and eating, they insisted on opening presents. Lloyd was all smiles and gratitude with each one, which ended up sparking a debate between the others about whose gift he liked best.

“He totally loved my gift!” “Nuh-uh! Did you see the way he smiled a little differently on mine?”

“Jay, you literally gave him a book. Why would he be excited about that?”

“Not just any book! A first edition Starfarer collector’s comic from when my parents were kids, and in mint condition, too!”

“Why would you want some dusty old comic when you could have the newest Starfarer video game?” Kai argued. “It took forever for me to find one of these, they were sold out everywhere.”

“Starfarer this, Starfarer that,” Cole sighed. “I don’t understand how he could possibly need any more Starfarer things. The record I engraved for him is way more personable and unique.”

“You guys are thinking about this all wrong! You should’ve gotten him a katana like me, something that he actually needs and uses.”

“Statistically, Lloyd spends more time drawing than any other hobby,” Zane said. “Which means my gift of an art book and new set of pencils is logically the best fit.”

“Clearly you guys all have it wrong in the head-”

“Guys, relax,” Lloyd laughed. “I loved all your gifts equally.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Jay… it means exactly what you think it means.”

“You can’t even pick one gift?”

Lloyd shook his head. “No way. These are all amazing. Thank you, guys. Really.” His gaze met Kai’s for a long beat. “For everything.”

“Of course. But, just to make things clear, you did like mine the most, right? You’re just saying you liked them equally, so that you didn’t make the others feel bad?”

Lloyd smacked his forehead as the others burst into protest again, and Kai shot him a sharp-edged grin. “I can do this all night.”

Eventually, Lloyd got them to stop bickering- the mention of cake got them all quiet pretty quickly- and after divvying it up, they went over to the couch and played the video game Kai had gotten him. He quickly lost track of time, but time didn’t matter. Even if it meant they would be tired for school the next day, seeing Lloyd like this- half sprawled over his teammates, brow scrunched in concentration as he mashed buttons on his controller, hints of frosting on his lips as he tried and failed miserably to bite back his laughter- it was worth it. He looked happier than Kai had seen him in weeks.

For that, he could even contain himself from bragging about how Lloyd obviously liked his gift best.

#ninjago #ninbingo #my fic #rosie writes #ninjago kai #lloyd garmadon #ninjago nya #jay walker #ninjago cole #ninjago zane #HAPPY BIRTHDAY GREEN BEAN #I LOVE YOU SO MUCH #XD guys i got so excited about lloyd's big day #maybe i have a bit of a problem but shhhhhhhh #hope this did him tribute #tlnm #thanks for reading!#reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!

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hanjizung · 4 years ago

Text

Stranger Danger.

Lee Minho x Reader x Bang Chan

Word count: 3.1K

♡ Warnings ♡: SMUT, stablished relationship, open relationship, threesome, drinking, use of alcohol, voyeurism, vaginal & anal sex, unprotected & protected sex, use of lubrication, name calling, mentions of jealousy, slightly choking, hair pulling, creampie.

This was a request i got some time ago from this prompt list. [ 35) “Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to.”] I hope you all enjoy this!

Completely drunk, you tripped with your own feet, separating from the needy kiss to laugh at your carelessness and then pushing the guy you were with against your front door, your fingers got a hold of your keys quickly and magically they found their way to the lock.

The handsome stranger whose name you remembered to be something like Christian, Charlie –or just anything starting with C– continued to kiss your neck, leaving purpling bruises along your skin.

You opened the door, making Chase fall backward when you turned the doorknob to open it and get inside to continue your passionate encounter in the privacy of your home.

Again, you laughed and helped him stand still and close the door behind you, throwing your keys to the coffee table and letting your bag fall to the floor. Clayton missed no time in getting back at you, pushing you against the door and pinning your hands above your head. At this point your legs were already starting to shake, all the buildup of the moment since he told you hello at the club had been a great start, the jokes he'd told you, the flirty comments he allowed himself to say with a smirk and the way he let his large hands travel all over your body when you two were pushed together when dancing were the cause of this.

Of course, maybe this unholy state of horniness was also triggered by grand amount of alcohol you drank since you arrived at the place, but also because since a few days before you were feeling extra needy, and your hands and toys weren't enough to satisfy you anymore, you were craving a real man.

And this Christoph guy really offered to help you, when you grinded against him for the first time while dancing and he held you tight and growled in your ear. It had been a fantastic view, your hand on his cheek, his on your hip and his eyes closed with his nose scrunched and moving so he growled right in your ear. It turned you like you've never felt before.

You jumped after he indicated you to do so, carrying you to the nearest surface where he could start what he was there for.

Taking off your top, you threw it to the coffee table behind you, returning your attack to his mouth, your tongue all the way on his mouth savoring the alcohol he was drinking earlier with you.

The guy was as excited as you were, his hands were on your hips, his grip there being strong enough to leave some mark, and your hands took advantage of the position, touching his well marked abdomen and feeling his muscles.

Unluckily, all the fun that was about to happen ended when the front door opened again and the light turned on, and standing by the front door with a case that you knew was full of his own clothes and some gifts for you, stood your boyfriend.

He wasn't pissed, clearly. You'd call the expression on his face something more like 'amusement', as he enjoyed the view of you on top of some other guy. A raised eyebrow and devilish smile soon replaced the previous expression of surprise.

"Who is that?" the guy under you asked, but you just rolled your eyes and tried to kiss him. He didn't seem to be a bit bothered, as you felt the lack of a bulge against you.

"Oh, she didn't tell you about me? I'm Minho, her boyfriend" he answered for you, taking his jacket off and sitting on a couch next to where you were with the blond hottie.

"You have a boyfriend?" blondie asked. You nodded, not ashamed.

"We have an open relationship. Now please, weren't you going to fuck me?" you pouted, going near his ear to murmur something only he could hear. "I'm so needy, I've been so alone and I need to be filled, please help me…" and you looked at him, with your best puppy eyes.

Muscles smiled, shrugging. "If your boyfriend doesn't mind, I might as well help the pretty damsel then" he said, pulling you in for a kiss.

Minho sat silently, his eyes looking at every move and every touch of you with the other guy, he was paying special attention when you left little moans that encouraged the other man to do what you liked.

No name had special skills, his hands ghosting on your thighs as you grinded on him desperately, his hard cock hitting you again where it was before, and surprisingly, in the blink of an eye, Nameless had you under him, your panties on the floor and his fingers tracing circles around your clit, teasing you and causing you to close your eyes with a sigh, enjoying the attention that he was giving you.

Having your legs wide open, you knew that Carlos wasn’t the only one paying attention to the way your body was reacting; the way his long fingers made you drip, and how hot it was to be supervised by Minho. You were enjoying every second of this situation; being the center of attention and feeling so spoiled from how good you were being treated.

Long fingers suddenly entered you, making you moan and bite your lip. The guy who was between your legs added his thumb to the mixture and started massaging your clit in slow circles, he was making you feel amazing, but yet when you opened his eyes, you couldn't look at him, focusing on Minho instead. He had his hands on his thighs, the bulge in his pants allowed you to know what you already suspected, he was enjoying the show, maybe a little too much.

Connecting his eyes with yours, Minho smiled. That's when you tried to provoke him, moving one of your fingers to your lips and playing with them before allowing it to enter your mouth. You pretended that it was his hand instead, licking the index finger once and once again, until he couldn't resist and succumbed to your game, undoing his belt and taking his cock in his hands. You could see his tip leaking some precum, which he used to lubricate the rest of himself before he continued to enjoy the performance.

The unknown guy inserted another finger in you, making you squirm and moan particularly loudly –mostly because you wanted to give a proper show to your beloved boyfriend, but truly the guy knew what he was doing– and one of your hands went to take off the clothes that covered your hardened nipples, pinchen them between your pointer finger and your thumb and biting your lip, trying to look as the sexiest person alive. Your eyes traveled down to where he had his hand busy, and your mouth watered.

Minho had his cock in his hand, he was stroking it lazily, his fingers were so elegantly wrapped around it and his length was slightly glistening from the lubrication he provided, the illumination wasn't very good, but you were sure that you were a lucky one for being able to see him in that state; he seemed like he was one of those old fancy paintings that was controversial during the old days, his expression of pleasure when he closed his eyes in ecstasy and the wink he gave you when he saw you looking at him, plus the fingers that were inside you… you saw him mouthing you name and that was all it took to have you orgasm around the hottie's fingers, mumbling pure nonsense because your mind was blinded from how you felt.

You lied there, with your legs open and panting heavily, trying to recover from how intense that orgasm had been. Once you opened your eyes again, you looked into the blonde's lustful eyes and went "I want you to fuck me real hard" with your best puppy expression.

The giggle that came out of his mouth was adorable, but you didn't have time to think of that when you pulled his hand so he would be above you, him trying to steady himself to not fall on you and once he was steady, he aligned his cock with your entrance, you could already feel it, waiting for it so expectantly like a kid on a toy store…

Only to be left disappointed when Minho stood up and stopped the guy by placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't think I ever caught your name," Mimho said, grinning at him because he knew he ruined the experience for the both of you.

"I'm Chris, or Chan if you like that better. Do you have a problem? I thought you guys were okay with this" he said, removing himself from you. You rolled your eyes, but said nothing, waiting for Minho to handle the situation.

"Actually, yes, now that you ask, there is a little problem, but I think we can work together to solve it, depending on what Y/N says, of course" you looked at him with wide eyes when you heard your name, then looked at Chan to find him looking at you as well.

"Y/N, baby, you know you're precious and real hot stuff, I've missed you too, sexy, and I'm a little jealous that you're letting him fuck you first. What if we make an arrangement, huh?" he asked.

With an arched eyebrow, you answered him "what are you asking me, exactly?"

And the answer to your own question didn't come from him, surprising you.

"I think he wants me to fuck your ass… are you really okay with that? Of course you don't have to, you can suck me off too" Chris said, looking at Minho who nodded, and then at you.

Not answering, you stood up and ran to your room, bringing a half filled bottle of lube that you handed to Chan who was still on the couch.

"Good girl, God, I knew that you would be greedy enough to take the both of us at the same time. You, stand up" he said to Chris, who quickly followed your boyfriend's order.

Minho sat on the couch, taking off all his clothes and then making you sit on him, pumping himself a few times before entering you. Your previous climax helped for you to adjust to his size, and once you felt ready you simply nodded.

Chan seemed to understand, squirting a bit of lube on your asshole and massaging you gently for a few seconds. He pushed your back to Minho's chest, exposing your bottoms to him, and being this close to Minho, you heard him clearly when he spoke to you.

“Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to, hmm? What do you think, would you like that, kitten? A pretty collar with my name on it so you know who's your owner?" he asked, voice deep and serious to demonstrate his dominant voice. You felt his hand petting your hair gently when he was done asking you. Your cheeks blushed intensely at his words, an inevitable whimper coming out of your lips caused by the effect his questions had in you, but said nothing because you knew the way your walls tightened round him were enough reaction for him.

Behind you, you felt Chan aligning his member to enter you, the tip of a condom that you've never realized exactly when he put it on making you squirm in excitement as you turned your neck to look at him through your lashes, waiting for him to finally enter you and be destroyed by the two of them.

Chris smiled at you gently, and placing his hands on your hips to hold you still, he finally entered you. He started slowly, afraid of hurting you much from this weird sensation that you'd never grow accustomed to at all, and you opened your mouth, face resting on Minho's chest as you felt every inch of Chan going deeper into you. It was like that until he stopped, staying still for you to get used to the feeling of something inside your ass.

"Y-you can move now" you babbled, not only at Chan but to Minho as well, you were positive your body could take them at the same thought.

After hearing you, Chan growled under his breath, pulling out from you at the same pace he had entered you; under you, Minho placed his hands on your thighs and tried his best to do the same as Chan and finally start the real party, there was no ending to his plans until he had you screaming his name in pleasure.

Soon, the three of you found a good pace to follow, and then all that could be heard on your small department was the hurried breathing of the three of you, along with the particular noise of naked skin against more skin and your moans, crying out from how overwhelmed you felt. It was weirdly unexplainable, you felt amazing being with the two of you, but you felt so good that you couldn't think straight anymore.

Chan's hand snaked on your back until he reached your hair, his fingers tangling themselves on locks of your hair and suddenly pulling it, dragging a surprised scream from your throat.

Minho took that opportunity to his advantage, having you away from him but still inside you, he could clearly see you from under, appreciating how much of a goddess you seemed, he was enamored with everything of you, also seeming amazed at the fact of how much he was enjoying to see you being used by another man while you still showed that you preferred him over them.

He raised one of his hands to play with your chest, playing with your nipples with one hand as the other hand went higher to wrap itself around your exposed neck, it became too much of a te ration for him to simply ignore, so he squeezed you gently, carefully because you had too much going on already.

Meanwhile, Chan pulled you towards by your hair towards his chest. He wasn't as gentle as Minhon was trying to be, but the contrast of that excited you more.

His hand traveled across your stomach, you felt his hand touching every inch of skin that was on the way to where he was going, and when he reached there, he started leaving little kisses on your back, his fingers rubbing your clit and making you shake a little.

Upon seeing what he was doing, Minho stopped playing with your nipples to grab one of your hands that were holding his wrist, tangling his fingers with yours. From the was your oussy started to contract and the tears forming on the corner of your eyes, he knew that you were close.

His other hand left your throat free as he looked for your other hand to hold it as well, he wanted to let you know that he was there for you, and that he was paying attention to your reactions.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!" you cried out, causing Minho to smile gently and to move his hips to thrust as hard as he could into you to bring you over the edge.

He succeeded, and your mind went blank while strange noises of satisfaction came from you and your interiors squeezed Minho deliciously, he loved the face you made when you orgasmed, and adding that he was still inside you, he came a few seconds after you, letting all of him paint your interiors with his seed.

Judging by the lack of thrust from his counterpart, Minho realized that Chan had also found his release, removing his hand from your clit to wrap it around your waist until his orgasm was gone.

You lasted like that for a few minutes, being hold by Chan's powerful arms and eyes lazily open to look down at Mimho with a soft smile, you weren't sure if you were done for the night, the only thing you knew was that you were feeling tired.

Removing his hand from your hair, Chan freed himself of your hair and let you position yourself however you wanted above Minho, pulling out from you and taking off the used condom, standing up from the couch to throw it to the trash without saying anything, giving you and Minho a bit of privacy.

"Round two?" Minho asked you quietly, kissing your forehead and then pushing you back so he could get out of your sensitive pussy.

"Let me rest for a bit and then we can start again" you replied, picking Minho's shirt from the floor and cleaning his cum from your dripping pussy.

Chan came back and looked at the two of you with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you say of a round two, Channie?" you asked him playfully. He made a surprised face at your sudden question.

"Are you sure you can take more?" he said. You heard Mimho scoff next to you.

"I told you, she's my greedy kitten, always want more" he told him, "you're up for a next round, then? This time I'll let you her pussy, I have an idea of how we can shut her up, it's late and we don't want to wake the neighbors, right?" Minho said, turning his head to give you a playful smile.

"Sure, let's leave them sleep" you rolled your eyes. "Before we start again, can I propose that we move to the bedroom?" you looked at Minho who simply shrugged and nodded, so you turned your head to Chan to tell him where it was located, not that he needed to know because he had already found the bathroom on his own, but to let him go before you so you could breath and get mentally ready, excitement flowing on your skin.

Chan left, leaving you and Minho alone again. Your boyfriend politely gave you a hand so you could stand up from the couch, pulling your hand towards him so he could embrace you, kissing you harshly and as passionately as he wanted to do since he entered the house again, haply that he was finally able to do it.

"You're gonna be the fucking death of me, Y/N. You're a demon, you know that, right?" he whispered on your face, before kissing you again and leaving you out of breath.

"My wicked little angel, we should've done this sooner, you look so fucking hot when you're crying from pleasure, baby" and after saying that to you, he left in the direction of your room, leaving you behind to think.

You breathed in before going after them, stretching and cleaning the sweat off your forehead, product of the activity done before, and when you felt like you were ready, you went to your destination.

"Let's start the second round."

#stayverse #skz smut #skz fanfiction #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #minho x reader #lee know x reader #chan x you #lee know x you #minho x you #chan smut #minho smut #bang chan smut #lee know smut #mine #original content

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charming-charlie · 4 years ago

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Washed Away pt. 3

Title // Washed Away pt. 3

Pairing // Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings // Teeny tiny swears, fear of dying/drowning/losing loved ones. Dead bodies unfortunately.

Summary // Who knew hanging out with Buck and Christopher for a day would lead to a life or death situation?

Word Count // 2.1k

Prompt // Hi! Can i request a fic where you were with Buck & Christopher when the tsunami hit? They could be dating or crushing on each other. If nothing comes to mind, then it’s completely fine to ignore this request! Have a nice day!’

Author’s Note // This is Part 3 of the Washed Away series. || Part 1 || Part 2

Tagged List // @aprildecker-blog @coffeewithoutcaffeine @daddysfavoritesexkitten @chenfordlove @comeasyoudar @carnationworld // If you want to be added or removed from the tagged list, please drop a note.

“I guess we are going to hang out here a little bit longer,” Buck said gently. He kept his voice smooth and low, and you knew it was to keep both you and Christopher calm.

The water was slowing down. The waves, while present, were no longer rapid and threatening. Still, you didn’t feel comfortable moving, and neither did Buck. He held onto Christopher with one arm and keeping the other next to you. It was extremely comforting having him there, despite everything that was going on.

Too bad it was suddenly short-lived.

“HELP!” a woman suddenly screamed, somewhere away from the firetruck.

Buck immediately sat up at attention and looked around. His arm slipped out of your grip and you instantly felt a sense of dread as you followed his eyesight. Just once you wanted a moment with him, just once.

Buck slowly started to stand up, staring eagle-eyed at the damage before him. He was scanning the area, sweeping his eyes left and right in search of a body to go with the voice. What was once a road full of cars and people was now a river, and there didn’t appear to be any end in sight.

“Help me!” the voice screamed again, and you knew you weren’t going crazy.

Buck was at attention, his ears trained for all sorts of desperate cries for help. There was a woman waving for aid in the water, screaming for help. You stared in horror, knowing exactly what she was feeling in that moment. The fear that this could be the end…

No, Y/N. Let’s not think about that right now. You’re fine.

“Chris, um… I need you to sit right here for me with Y/N. You promise me?” Buck crouched down to reach Christopher’s line of sight; his tone was serious.

“Yes,” Christopher said.

You wanted to shake your head and forbid Buck from leaving the firetruck. Forbid? Really?

He seemed to sense your fear and apprehension and he turned to face you. If it weren’t for the immediate danger that you were facing, you knew you would be leaping into his arms like a knockoff Disney princess, but it wasn’t that easy. It was very, very difficult to even think about letting him out of your sight, and here he was, being a damn prince and diving into the face of danger.

“I’ll be right back,” he said as he looked at you, frowning slightly, like he almost didn’t believe his own words, “watch Christopher for me. Please.”

The woman was still screaming for help and Buck couldn’t wait another second. He reached for your hand and you held it tightly, but it slipped out of your grip before you even had a chance to hold on.

The ex-firefighter did what he did best. He grabbed the ladder and catapulted it off the truck so that it formed a bridge between the truck and a pile of what appeared to be a random island of cars and vehicles. Was that stable? It didn’t look very stable.

He had the firehose piled on his shoulder to use as a rope and he began walking across the very unsafe ladder bridge. You were watching him, entranced by his knowledge of survival skills, but your breath was caught in the back of your throat with each step he took. There were more than a few times where the ladder shook unevenly below his feet and he had to steady himself by putting his arms out to the side like a tightrope walker. Watching this scene was painful and yet you couldn’t look away.

He had to jump into the water to reach the woman and you lost sight of him after that. Your heart was pounding erratically in your chest and for a second you thought you wouldn’t know what to do without Evan Buckley in your life. Damn, Y/N, is this really where your mind is going?

She was still screaming for help and you saw a flash of Buck’s orange shirt climbing over one of the cars to reach her. You would’ve let out a sigh of relief but nothing about this situation was relieving.

Christopher grabbed you by the pant leg and tugged on it. Immediately you turned your attention to the little boy, feeling the beginnings of a heart attack. Was he okay?

He seemed to be. He was smiling a little, probably having no idea just how dangerous the situation was. Oh, what it must be like to be a kid, naïve and unaware of things.

“Is Buck okay?” Christopher asked. There was a slight uncertainty to his voice, and you were surprised from catching it. Maybe Christopher knew exactly what was happening all along.

You turned your head to find Buck, but you lost him again. And… there was that panic building up once more.

“Hey, I need you to let go! Let go! You’re doing great!”

You heard his voice shouting over the waves and it took a few minutes to find him in the water. Apparently, he used the hose like a rope, just as you predicted, by tying the other end to a tree and letting a woman swim towards it and grab on. It was such an impressive maneuver, something you would never have thought of in a million years.

He grabbed the flailing woman and used the rope sort of like a zip line back to the truck. You jumped to action, reaching over the edge of the truck and helping her up. She landed on the roof with a bit of a thud and your hand reached for Buck’s to help him up next.

The moment he touched your hand, the two of you froze in fear, staring at each other with bated breath.

There were more cries for help. A lot more.

He turned to look behind him and you looked straight ahead, past him. Many people were swimming to the truck, calling for help, waving their arms for attention.

Buck’s hand slipped out of yours and you tried not to notice. When were you finally going to have your moment with him? It was scaring you inside, how dependent you suddenly became on him. It wasn’t the fact that he saved you, no. It was before that. And now, there was a possibility that you two might not live through this. You hoped it was a small possibility, but it was still there. And you needed that moment with him, a moment to show him, thank him, and appreciate him for everything he has done to enrich the quality of your life. You need that moment before it is too late.

“Watch him,” Buck said as he looked at you, pointing to Christopher.

You nodded, letting him know he could count on you. You couldn’t say anything. Your voice was frozen in your throat and you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

Buck clung to the hose bridge he made, and the other tsunami victims grabbed on. They half shimmied, half swam, down the hose to the truck and you were helping every single person on board. Occasionally, you would glance at Christopher, who was fine. The woman, the first one Buck saved, was next to the little boy and keeping a firm eye on him, allowing you to focus on helping the others onto the roof of the emergency vehicle.

Within minutes, the roof filled up and people were saved. Buck was the last one on board, and he flopped down, gasping for breath. You had no idea the amount of adrenaline it must’ve taken him, but yours was also wearing off. You felt exhausted, numb, and just downright over this whole thing.

He sat next to Christopher and you sat next to him, just like before everyone had to go play hero. It felt normal, and you thought that was weird. This shouldn’t be normal, none of it should, but it was. At least for now.

“You amaze me, buddy,” Buck said to Christopher. His hand reached for yours and you grabbed it instinctively as Buck turned to face you. “And you amaze me too.”

If it weren’t for the insane flooding and sitting on a firetruck boat, you knew your heart would be skipping beats left and right. Was this the moment?

“Oh, no. Do you see that?”

“Look over there.”

The other people in the truck started speaking up, softly at first, but enough to grab your attention along with Buck. Cool, this was not the moment.

You weren’t prepared for what you saw. Dead bodies started floating down and Buck immediately turned to Christopher and tried to distract the boy from seeing them. He picked Christopher up and sat him on the edge of the truck so that his back was facing the bodies as they floated down the watery road.

Your hand was on Buck’s shoulder to steady yourself as you tried to look away. You dealt with dead people often, it was part of your job as a nurse. But this… this was different. The people in the water shouldn’t be dead, and that’s what made the whole situation sick.

Buck’s smile turned into a frown as he watched the victims float on by, and he turned back to look at you. There was something unreadable in his eyes.

The horrible moment passed, and people took their spots back on the roof. Christopher, Buck, and you sat in your usual section toward the front of the truck and for now, you just waited.

“I don’t know what I’m going to tell your father,” Buck spoke up, speaking to Christopher, “I take you out one time and uh… look what happens.”

“You saved me,” Christopher said in reply, like he didn’t have to think about it, “you saved Nurse Y/N, and you saved them.”

The crowd of people on the roof of the truck were waiting, looking around, being quiet, but the gesture was clear enough. Buck definitely did something remarkable today and you were hoping he saw it. You hoped he saw just how amazing he was and how brave, heroic, and daring his decisions were to save everybody on the truck. Hell, he saved you, and that’s not something you plan to let slip from his memory. You owed him your life at this point.

“No,” Buck said, and he turned to look at you, talking to both you and Christopher at the same time, “we did that together. Me and you make a great team.”

Christopher moved in and hugged Buck, and the ex-firefighter wasted no time hugging the little boy back. Using his other arm, he pulled you into the hug as well, and it was nice. A small group hug with the three of you.

And then…

All the sudden, the water was rising and splashing around the truck. Harsh waves crashed against the truck, pushing against it. The vehicle lopped and shook within the water, feeling unstable for the first time. Trash and various items were scratching against the sides, sending piercing screeches to your sensitive ears.

Buck was on his feet quickly. He watched what was going on with eagle eyes, staring hard. It was like his brain was calculating the best course of action, but too much was happening too soon, and he couldn’t land on a solution quick enough.

People started falling off the truck and into the water.

Buck, gripping Christopher with one arm and you with the other, yelled at people to get down. Seeking shelter was the best course of action but it was hard to hear him over the waves.

It felt like another tsunami, another surge.

A man screamed for help, someone who had fallen overboard. You quickly rushed to the side, and Buck was right behind you. You held out your hand to reach for the man, Buck was holding onto you so that you wouldn’t fall in. You don’t know what propelled you to act this way, but you did. Instinct took over. You grabbed him, pulled him out of the water, and Buck moved next to you to help you. Together, the two of you heaved the man onto the hood of the firetruck.

But something happened.

Something crashed into the truck, so quick and powerful, that your grip on the man was broken and he fell back into the harsh rapids. Buck’s first response was to grab you firmly so that you wouldn’t fall in after him. Thankfully you didn’t but a certain realization hit you soon enough.

Both of you scrambled off the hood of the truck and looked at the people remaining.

Christopher wasn’t there. The little boy was nowhere in sight.

#Buck #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x you #buck x reader #buck x you #9-1-1 #9-1-1 on fox #9-1-1 fic #christopher diaz #oliver stark

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princess-earthquake-the-third · 3 years ago

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So.... Tumblr decided to delete that Xiaoven fanfic I wrote,so I'm gonna repost it, hopefully it won't be eaten by the abyss now I'd like to know what you guys think.

Title: a delightful breeze.

The night was quiet, the sky dotted with stars twinkling in a beautiful dance against a black canvas.The silver light of the moon reflected off the waters of Dihua march,and the residents of the wangshu inn all were asleep, except for one particularly peculiar yaksha.

Xiao sat at his usual spot, looking deep in thought, his golden eyes on the night sky,searching for answers.He let out an exasperated sigh,head down from frustration.

A small breeze passed by him,as if brushing his hair comfortingly,and with it came a dark haired bard,white feathery wings on his back,like an angel.Floating right infront of him,the bard smiled cheekily,Xiao returned the smile but his was less cheeky,and more tired.

"Venti,What brings you here?" Asked Xiao.

"Oh just passing by, thought I'd drop by the most beautiful person I know" Replied Venti, grinning in mid-air.

"Still ever the charmer,huh?" Chuckled Xiao.

"Of course!I'd be a terrible bard if I lacked charm!"

Xiao fell into silence,while Venti raised an eyebrow and asked "Is something bothering you?"

"W-what?no ,no I'm fine" Xiao said , unfortunately for him he wasn't the best at hiding his emotions, especially around Venti.

"Darling, it's very clear that something's bothering you, it's written all over your face" Venti frowned slightly, getting closer and closer to him.

Xiao backed away,"it's nothing worth mentioning" he didn't face Venti to try and hide his expression.

"Xiao..." Venti scolded, frowning even more and putting his hands on his hips like a disappointed mother.

He dropped down to the balcony, folding his wings, and approached Xiao,who was still looking away,Venti grabbed his hands,and whispered softly"I know talking about how you feel is hard for you,but it's better than keeping it bottled up,you know?"

They stood there for a bit,he sighed,and thinking to himself he came up with an idea.

"Aha!I know what to do!" He exclaimed, prompting Xiao to look at him with a questioning stare.

He snapped his fingers and a gust of wind carried both of them off the balcony,now in the sky ,Venti's cheeky smile returned,his white wings opened again,with stray feathers here and there, his hand still held Xiao's.

"What are you doing?"Xiao asked , trying to balance himself somehow.

"A change of scenery might help you feel better!" Venti answered ,but Xiao was not as amused as he was.

"Is this truly necessary?" He complained, although he didn't entirely mind the experience,"Yes!" Venti shouted back.

And so Xiao was reluctantly dragged into wherever Venti was taking him,after a while he was starting to get antsy,and by the time they crossed the borders of Liyue his patience was starting to run out.

"How long are we going to be flying?" Xiao nagged ,"a bit longer my dear,but this is fun, don't you think?" Smiled Venti.

"Barbatos" He grumbled,the only time he called Venti by that name was when he was angry.

"Okay okay , I'm going down,we've reached our destination anyway" Venti gave an apologetic smile and slowly lowered them,once his feet touched the ground,Xiao looked around him to find himself in windrise,by the enormous tree of monstadt.

The tree looked as beautiful under the moonlight as it did under the rays of the sun,the shadows of the trees,shrubs and bushes danced as they were moved by the refreshing wind circling the area.

Venti ran to the tree and flew up one of it's huge branches, looking back at Xiao "catch me if you can!" smirking,he jumped from one branch to another going up.

Xiao sighed and started following him,it wasn't hard at all,he could easily catch up to Venti,and he did, grabbing Venti mid-air bridal style.

"Oh my,who might this handsome fellow be?" Venti teased,Xiao's eyes were about to fall out of his eye sockets from how hard he rolled them.

"I'm going to drop you"He threatened jokingly, trying to cover the smile that was forming around his mouth,but failing miserably, honestly if someone had seen the face that he was making,they would've thought he was having a bowl movement, Luckily Venti has gotten used to the wierd faces.

"How cruel!" Said Venti, dramatically putting a hand over his chest,"the betrayal!how can I live with this!"

Xiao promptly dropped the bard,he fell into the top of the tree on a bed of leaves,which does sound very uncomfortable,but it was much more cozy than expected.

"Hey! that was uncalled for!"he protested, wiping off the leaves that covered his face.

"Was it?" Xiao laughed, picking the rest of the leaves that were stuck in Venti's hair,one two three four and much more,how did he even manage to gather that many in his hair?

"Well,Maybe not but still!"

The two of them finally settled down,Venti draped his wings, flapping them to get rid of whatever leaves stuck to them,he crossed his legs and leaned back,while Xiao hugged his and rested his chin on his knees.

The green hills,the rustling of leaves ,the shimmering light of the moon,the crystal flies slowly moving from one place to another, leaving a trail of shiny particles were all very inviting.

Xiao took a deep breath,the air was clear and soothing,like a pleasant song,it seemed as though every problem and every bit of worry simply vanished,even for a moment,but they still came back, haunting, stinging needles,Xiao buried his face between his arms.

"Why did you bring me here?" He wondered, breaking the silence.

"This is my favorite place,I come here whenever I feel down,so I thought I'd bring you here!"Venti answered enthusiastically.

" it's certainly very calming"

"I know, right?"

Xiao went silent yet again,but this time Venti felt that he was about to add more,he stared at Xiao expectantly.

Xiao took a deep breath,and finally said"I guess you're right, avoiding the problem does no good"

"Do you want to talk about it then?"

"I suppose so,yes" added Xiao"It's.....about lord Rex lapis"

"Ugh,what did that block head do?"

"He....didn't do anything"

"Huh?" Venti replied ,brow twisted in confusion.

"Do you know about what happened at the rite of decension?"he inquired .

"Yeah" Venti answered,the traveler had told him some of what transpired in their time in Liyue ,so he had an idea of the events that occurred,even if they didn't,he had asked Zhongli at that point.

"It has to do with that" Xiao added ,voice slightly brittle,"After what happened ,I....I started to think"

"About what?"

"About why lord rex lapis would feel the need to test us like that"

"I understand why he would do it,but part of me feels as Though I wasn't good enough,I wasn't worthy of his trust"he blurted out.

"And I know that thinking this way is a stupid thing to do,I know that" he was frustrated.

‌

"this doesn't stop the voice in my head telling me that if I was better at my duties,then maybe lord rex lapis wouldn't have felt the need to test us,to test me-" he stopped, burying his face in his arms"maybe he wouldn't have left....."

"And that makes me feel worthless,like all I did was for nothing" he added.

Silence seemed to sneak it's way into their little dates every now and then, usually it was a comforting silence,neither felt the need to be constantly talking,but this silence was suffocating for Xiao,face still covered by his arms ,he didn't move, simply waited for whatever Venti was about to say.Xiao heard the sound of a few leaves shuffling,when he looked up Venti had moved near him.

"what you do is important"Venti finally spoke"everyday you make sure the people of Liyue are safe, you're not worthless."He held Xiao's hand.

Xiao seemed somewhat relieved, although there was still something bothering him,Venti caught on to this.

"Do you miss him?" Venti probed.

"Yeah....." He whispered,face turning slightly red from embarrassment.

"Awww darling , don't be embarrassed, it's okay to miss your dad!"whether he was serious or just teasing Xiao remained to be seen.

"He's not my father!" Xiao exclaimed,now red as a tomato,he hid his face in his arms again.

"You know,you could always just visit him"suggested Venti,it seemed he wasn't jesting this time"you know where he is, don't you?"

"I.... don't want to disrespect his wish,he wanted to live as a human"

"Yeah,but that doesn't mean you have to stop talking to him"

"Doesn't it?" Xiao lifted his face, looking into the distance"he's a "human" now,and I'm an Adeptus"

"Think of it this way,You don't have to go as the vigilante yaksha, protector of Liyue ,slayer of demons yada yada" Venti flailed his arms around"you could go as just Xiao"

"Just Xiao....?" He didn't understand what Venti meant,what else was there to him? isn't that what he is?that was his duty,what else is there?

" there is much more to you than that" Venti smiled,this smile wasn't cheeky or sassy or sarcastic,it was a genuine smile,it made Xiao blush ,and he was just getting over being embarrassed.

"Xiao likes almond tofu,he thinks crystal flies are pretty,he likes snow" Venti listed,Xiao on the other hand was getting more and more confused,"he doesn't like meat rolls,he doesn't like crowds of people"

"Xiao is diligent,Xiao is caring,Xiao isn't alone,Xiao is loved,Xiao is-" Venti stopped mid-sentence ,he clasped Xiao's face in his hands and added"Xiao is amazing,and if he doesn't realize that, I'm gonna write a hundred songs to show how wonderful he is!"

The adeptus laughed"please don't do that,I can only handle so much of your singing" he didn't mind Venti singing,in fact he very much enjoyed it,but considering the bard's tendencies,he had to stop him otherwise Venti might have gone through with that.

"W-what if he doesn't want to see me-"

"What if he does?"Venti interjected"You shouldn't make that choice for him"

"If he doesn't,which is very unlikely by the way, it's not going to be the end of the world"the so called tone deaf bard added.

"You'll still have the traveler,the other adepti,and you'll still have me"

Xiao had an epiphany at that moment,it seemed as though his thoughts became clearer,like the fog was lifted.

"So?" Venti asked"what are you going to do now?"

"I guess a visit wouldn't hurt..." Xiao whispered.

The corners of his mouth slowly twisted, revealing an award winning smile,at least according to Venti,the adeptus rarely ever smiled ,but when he genuinely did,it was one of the most beautiful sight the bard had ever seen.

Xiao leaned closer to Venti , planting a kiss on his forehead,the bard was caught so off guard that his wings shot open,his cheeks were painted with a pink hue ,and he had the goofiest smile on his face,the adeptus leaned back and said "Thank you".

"That was a direct attack!" Venti replied"you know what that means!" He promptly tackled Xiao, sending both of them into the leaves, giggling like the idiots they are.

After the laughing died down,Venti set his eyes to Xiao's,and they were locked in a staring contest, although thier eyes were full of nothing but love,"You're welcome" Venti whispered, caressing Xiao's cheek,Xiao returned the gesture by holding his hand.

In that moment, nothing mattered,they were together,they were happy.

Epilogue:

The sun was slowly starting to set,the sky was painted a beautifully golden hue,and thus the end of another day for the wangsheng funeral parlor's consultant was marked.

Zhongli was organizing some random books, putting them on the shelf,when he heard footsteps behind him.

"Greetings,how may I help you?" He said, not looking back,he didn't need to,he already knew who it was.

Xiao looked so out of place,he was nervous,he rubbed his neck"I-Im just passing by,I can come another time if you're busy-"

"That won't be necessary, I'm already done with my duties ,so I'm currently free" Zhongli finally turned to face him"would you like some tea then?it won't take long to brew"

"S-sure-" Xiao stuttered, Zhongli slowly approached Xiao,the latter averted his gaze out of embarrassment,once Zhongli was close enough,he extended his hand and patted Xiao's head, smiling"I'm glad you decided to visit" he beamed.

"M-me too" although his eyes were on the ground,Xiao was quite relieved.

Once the tea was made ,the two sat down and talked for hours.

The end.

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clairecrive · 4 years ago

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“Small thing” - Alfie Solomons x reader

A/n: So, I failed to post this on saturday but here it is! Thanks again for requesting @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby! I changed a few things however I hope you’ll like this!

Summary: Alfie can’t help but step in when he sees that the man you were talking to was about to hit you. Then, one thing leads to another and eventually it’s your shared love for animals that’s what brings you together.

Word count: 2.2K (roughly)

TW: violence on animal, abusive behavior but fluff overall

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @of-love-and-of-the-sea, @shadow-of-wonder, @fandom--0verdose, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner, @ashesbelle (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

(this beautiful piece of art was made by @fortunetellingnonesense. she has other amazing art so go check her out!)

“Hey, stop! What the hell are you doing?!" Your voice resounded in the streets, its echo jumping through the buildings amplified. You weren't one to shout, nor did you get into fights easily. But if there was one thing you hated, it was bullying. Especially when those pieces of shit always picked on people half their size or age. It wasn't fair and showed how insignificant they were. However true that might be, the cuts and bruises that their kicks and fists would leave on them weren't insignificant. Especially compared to a smaller body such as the one of this little kitty that piece of shit on the other side of the road had decided to kick.

Unfortunately, it had taken the small kitten cries for you to notice what was happening. But now that you had, you couldn't turn a blind eye to it. Not even if you weren't a strong muscular person and there was no one in the streets could give you a hand. Given the hour, the street was deserted.

"This little shit has decided to pee all over my doorstep. That’ll show him." Not happy with the kick that had probably broken the kitten's ribs, the bloke spat on its trembling body and was about to keep going.

"Don't you see that it's a little kitten? They don't even know what a doorstep is." You pointed out incredulously but wasn't it obvious?

"You almost killed him", you added to show that it was totally unnecessary and simply a dick move.

"I don't fucking care. He peed on my doorstep and I taught him a lesson." His voice became even harsher as he bragged what he thought was a grand gesture. But really, he only proved your point further.

"You're a piece of shit." Simply put.

"Oi, lady, I don't know who the hell you think you are but ain't no one gonna talk to me like that." You could see that he trying to make himself look bigger and threatening but you didn’t expect anything less from him and were set on not let him win.

"If only you cared about yourself just half as much as you cared for others than I wouldn't have to point out the obvious." Dismissing him, you turned towards the poor kitten that was pathetically laying on the floor. Their breath was uneven and you could tell they were having trouble doing so.��

Your words must have confused the man, who apparently wasn't accustomed to a more complex way of speaking. You hadn't apologized but he wasn't sure that you had offended him either. By your tone though, he figured out that it must have been the second. And of course, his ego was bruised.

"Right, you sl*t, it seems that you need to be taught a lesson too." Too busy cooing over the small thing, his words didn't even register. It was probably going to be too late once they did but luckily for you, a guardian angel interceded for you.

"It ain't very manly to hit a woman, mate, right." A loud husky voice spoke behind you and you looked up, cradling the kitten to your chest, ready to make a run for it if it came to it. A tall figure of a man leaning on his cane with a big hat that cast a shadow over his face was the newcomer. You had never seen this man before but one look at him was all it took to understand that you did not mess with him. If you didn't want to end up bloodied and broken, that is.

The bully was about to shoot a retort but the burly man spoke again before he could, "Just like hitting small animals. What fucking beast would do that, hm." And then he spoke no more, only stared at the guy. You found amusing how big and mighty the guy was trying to be just a moment early when it had been only you, and how scared and spineless he was being now, under the stranger's unwavering stare.

It only took a minute, maybe even less, for him to lower his head and retreat.

"That's right, no more lesson teaching for you, bastard." You snickered, mocking him. When the man in question turned to send a death stare your way, you shivered and moved behind the stranger's back, just to be sure.

"Keep on going, mate." The stranger said fully ridding you of that menace finally.

"Asshole", you muttered under your breath as the man disappeared into his house. You must have been louder than you thought because that prompted the stranger to look at you.

"What are you doing, lass, getting head to head with a guy bigger than you, eh. Got a death wish?" As you were standing close to him now, you were able to see his face clearly since he was looking down at you for the height difference. What a lovely face. A guardian angel had sent him for sure because there was no way that such a handsome and kind man would stumble into your life by coincidence.

"Look, he almost killed this kitten and was definitely going to if I hadn't stopped him." You didn’t move to put some space between you. His eyes were too mesmerizing to look anywhere but at them and the way his lips trembled before forming a small smirk, was too endearing to miss.

The stranger’s name turned out to be Alfie, but that wasn't the only thing you ended up knowing about him. He was a fellow animal lover and the human of a sweet bullmastiff. He had a trusted vet and offered to take you to him. On the way, you got to know each other. Albeit, he did all the talking, only stopping to let you answer the many questions he asked you, it wasn't annoying as it may sound. His rumbling was… comforting, in a way. It gave your mind no room to think back about what happened or worry about what could have happened if Alfie hadn't shown up. It only allowed you to lightly caress the kitten's fur and hum now and then to what he was saying.

———————————————————————————

And after months of knowing him, you could vouch that it was.

He was an interesting fellow, this Alfie. Such a scaring looking guy, all burly and dishevelled. His cane angrily stomped the ground, his boisterous voice and confident stride successful kept away any wandering eye and unwanted attention despite how difficult it was to not notice them walking down the street. Of course, since you had just met him, you couldn't know that this happened mainly because of his reputation. And you would have never guessed either because despite his rough exterior, there was an underlying tenderness in the way Alfie looked at the small thing in your arms and how quickly and unprompted he had offered to help. It was the recipe for a sweetheart, wasn't it?

"Right, I reckon we should get him some help, don't we?" Alfie couldn’t help but find you amusing and was more than willing to spend a little more of his time with you. His day had been uneventful up until now. Besides, the small thing in your arms did need help.

After the kitten was entrusted to the vet's care and eventually saved, Alfie, moved by your love for animals, had asked you to take care of his boy, Cyril. Of course, you happily took the job. Yes, the money was good and certainly helped but you mainly agreed because of him. As naive as it sounds, Alfie had made a really good impression on you that day and always had been the portrait of the perfect gentleman around you.

He would welcome you in and offer a cup of tea when you’d get to his home in the morning and another one when he'd come home in the afternoon before you'd leave. And whenever he needed to stay at the bakery until late at night, he'd phone and tell you either offering to have someone walk you home or when you'd refused to leave Cyril alone - that was your job after all- he had given you one of the spare rooms for you to crash in and get some sleep, always with the promise of a raise for the inconvenience.

You were titubant at first, yes Alfie had always been nice to you but was it enough to trust him? Eventually, you caved and stayed the night. The door of your room locked and a route for a quick escape already in mind. You'd soon find out that you wouldn't need it though. Alfie had come home a little past midnight and despite the late hour, he didn't go to bed straight away. Instead, you heard some noises coming from the living room.

Curiosity got the best of you and you ventured downstairs. You had cooked a small dinner and left some for him in the oven. Alfie however, hadn't even noticed. The concept of a cooked meal was new and far away from him, his nightly routine mainly consisted of whiskey and the papers he'd brought from the office.

Coming home to someone was also something out of the ordinary for Alfie, so when your silhouette appeared in the doorway he thought he was hallucinating. The whiskey made him a little slow but his mind still worked quickly enough that you didn't notice his moment of disorientation.

That night turned out to be an interesting one for both of you. Looking back to it, it was also a kind of turning point in your relationship. Whiskey proved to be something that made Alfie even more prone to speaking and since the night is young, you two talked a lot, and you inevitably ended up feeling closer to him.

After that night, Alfie made sure to come home a bit earlier so that you could talk a bit before you had to head home. And you ended up spending more nights at Alfie's too.

Today was one of those days when Alfie said he would come home in time for tea. So, as usual, you had got everything ready, the cookies you had just taken out of the oven were nicely arranged on a plate beside the two steaming cups of tea.

———————————————————————————

"We are restless today, aren't we? But we just came back from our afternoon walk, so what can I do for you, eh?" You were sure you sounded utterly ridiculous, using a baby voice with him but you loved doing so whenever you talked to him. And you’d swear that he could understand you.

"A-ha, these are not for you sweet boy," you tutted at Cyril when he tried to help himself to the food.

It felt like a crescendo, your relationship getting out of the acquaintances’ stage and entering something blurry that you still couldn't figure out. All you knew was that it was warm and it felt a lot like home.

"Alright, alright, I'll give you some cuddles." Yeah, maybe you were a little soft on him but how could anyone be anything but when he looked so cute laying on his back with his little paws in the air?

Exactly.

The sound of the door closing caught your attention and you got up from the ground and walked in the hallway to meet Alfie who was taking his hat off.

"Welcome back, Alfie. How was your day?" Walking to him, you helped him take his coat off. After hanging it on the coat rack, you turn back around to listen to his answer. You expected him to have moved away instead you found your faces extremely close after you had turned around.

A gasp left your lips when your noses brushed whereas Alfie appeared unaffected. His eyes flickered between yours, his moustache tickled your upper lip as he spoke, "it's about to get a lot better, it seems pet. What do ya think?" He whispered on your mouth, referring to your previous question.

The kiss was slow at first, your lips were cautious of each other, tentative and shy. Then Alfie’s hand reached the back of your head and it was like a flip had been switched. Only a brief pause to get some air, your forehead touching, before your lips reconnected. This time with far more hunger, like you had been waiting for this moment. And in fact, you had been.

"Look who's decided to join, cheeky bastard", Alfie commented, amused at his dog who was now panting on his leg. Cyril barked as if he had understood his human and you couldn't help but laugh. This dog was something else.

Your hands trailed on his shoulders up to his neck while the kiss grew more desperate and Alfie pushed you to the wall behind the coat hanger. His hands began wandering trailing down on your body and his mouth was about to follow when something humid and wet interrupted them.

Your eyes bore into his then flickered to his mouth, so close to yours, before you answered him. "I wholeheartedly agree." And that was all he needed to hear before his mouth was on yours. A shot of electricity ran through you when he did.

"I'm sorry mate, but this is a dance for two," Alfie gave him a loving pat on his head, "now where were we?" he turned back to you before connecting your mouths again.

#alfie solomons #tom hardy #tom hardy imagines #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagine #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons imagines #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons one shot #alfie x reader #alfie solomons fluff #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine

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ad1thi · 4 years ago

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underrated stevetony fics rec list (P2)

this is ridiculously late and im so sorry, but here’s part 2 of this list!!

sweet lips on my lips (kiss like real people do).: @nethandrake

Frankly, if anyone told Tony that he’d be carried out of a burning building, well, he would’ve laughed in their faces. And if they were being extra mean about it, he probably would’ve even thrown them across the Atlantic.

After all, he’s Tony Stark. And Tony Stark always makes sure he has a safety net installed in his armor for emergencies, so it wouldn’t be out of commission before the building decided to collapse onto itself.

And yet, here he is, his armor out of commission, and being carried out of a burning building.

Carried out of a burning building by Steven Grant Rogers.

(In which Tony's from Civil War and Steve's from Infinity War. It's a problem.)

Rising: @withstarryeyes

Heat is licking up his sides and he groans, feeling his knees turn wobbly, and fumbles his way to the wall of the elevator. The metal is blessedly cool on his forehead and he sighs, eyes burning when he closes them. It’s still dark outside and every fiber of Tony’s being is telling him to go back to bed but he has work to do and plans to make and a blueprint open on his desk in the lab, Fury approved, and he can’t not do his job. So he musters all his strength and pushes off the wall when the elevator lands, ignoring his wet hacking as he moves.

He falls before he makes it to the bench, his top coated in sweat, and his eyes shutting to the whirling sensation that takes his breath away and leaves him panting in nauseated gasps. His hand shakes from where it’s planted on the ground, keeping him up.

the square root of infinity: @firebrands

steve and tony have their first fight. tony doesn't handle it well.

A Social Engagement: @finduilasclln

Written for the prompt: “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”

Steve agrees to something without fully comprehending what it means. Modern times are confusing.

Wounds Without A Bandage: @gotthesilver

Tony burrows deeper in his blankets, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to forget the last year. Taking control of Stark Industries was one thing, even if it had been a shock to Obie and the rest of the board when Tony came of age and started dispensing of all his dad’s old cronies, but SI’s exploration team actually finding Steve? Tony deciding Steve should come live with him? Tony has regrets.

Well.

He has regrets this morning.

Before last night, the most Tony regretted in relation to Steve was not jumping him the moment it became clear all his faculties were intact and that Tony hadn’t defrosted a brain dead Captain America.

Love Like A Hunger: @gotthesilver

Pushing the door open to the bedroom, Steve pauses at what he sees. “Tony? I—”

“Surprise?”

“I—” Steve swallows, taking in the sight of Tony, blood instantly going to his cock as he looks him up and down. “You look—wow.”

Tony’s got on a damn Princess Leia outfit, gold curling around his chest and hips, with red fabric skimming over his crotch, and Steve’s brain feels like it’s shut down.

The Night Shift: @weethreequarter

Welcome to the Emergency Department of San Antonio General where Dr. Tony Stark joins the team fresh from his most recent tour in Afghanistan and - much to the consternation of the other staff - strikes up an instant rapport with Nurse Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, new resident Bruce Banner refuses to give up on his patient, and Dr. Sharon Carter learns something from her own patients. Throw in a pissed off hospital administrator, Clint using the coffee pot as a mug again, and a major car crash and you have, well, just another night shift.

the james braincell: @starklysteve

“Right. How do we get them to admit they love each other?”

In front of him, Bucky brings out a metal flask and takes a swig out of it. “Hell if I know. You’re the genius who went to MIT.”

“I studied aerospace engineering,” Rhodey rolls his eyes, “not how to get two idiots to kiss.”

-------

Or, Bucky and Rhodey are the braincells.

In a desperate last ditch attempt, they set Steve and Tony up for a blind date.

Steve and Tony don't know that their date is each other. But they might have a braincell of their own. Might.

the good place (is next to you): @starklysteve

“I mean,” Tony tries his best shot at breaking the tension, “if you’re stuck with the wrong guy, at least I’m sexier than your real deal?”

Tony died and got sent to some sort of heaven, with Captain America as his soulmate. Except, they got the wrong Anthony Stark, and to stay in the Good Place, Tony must convince Steve to teach him how to be good.

-x-

(watching The Good Place is not necessary to understand this AU, but will help)

president captain america: @livingtheobsessedlife

He’s supposed to be campaigning to be elected as president of the United States, not pining over some billionaire he met at one of his campaign events. And yet, Steve can’t seem to get genius, philanthropist (and his newest big-time donor) Tony Stark out of his head.

come build a home out of me: @maguna-stxrk

Steve clears his throat.

“What if I went with you?” he asks nonchalantly, like his heart isn’t threatening to beat out of his ribcage.

Tony blinks a few times, looking at Steve, his mouth ajar. “As a— As my date?”

“Yeah.” Steve nods, feeling a little breathless.

“You don’t mind?” Tony furrows his eyebrows.

“I don’t. In fact, you can just tell them I’m your boyfriend. I’m sure they’ll back off, wouldn’t they?”

What.

“I— Huh?” Tony stares at him, brown eyes blown wide open.

What. What. What.

“Huh? Uh, I mean— You know, that way people will see that you have definitely moved on. Monica will see that you have moved on. Right?” Steve smiles, hoping that it masks his inner panic, because what?

Steve Rogers, what have you done?

Between Two Infinities: @/anonymous

The Titanic, 1946. Steven Grant Rogers did not think that going to war would end up with him being three times his normal size with superstrength and agility to boot, and... rich...but hey, he wasn’t complaining. Steve also didn’t expect to fall out of love- if it was even love in the first place- with the woman he was explicitly told to propose to, and instead fall for a formerly rich, formerly a playboy, still a genius, Tony Stark. Especially because, you know, it was a little tiny bit illegal, and he was supposed to be “America’s Golden Boy”, as Bucky put it.

All Tony expected out of the trip was to escape Europe with his best friend thanks to a lucky game of blackjack. He didn’t think he’d find himself having sex in the back of a car located in the cargo hold of the Titanic, or almost jumping off said ship. But that was just the life of a rogue Stark child, wasn’t it? At least Peggy was nice. Her dad, not so much.

A Thief Like Tony Stark: @dontholdthiswarinside

Tony is a high ranking criminal, known for his talent to disappear. Steve is a disillusioned soldier who needs some cash.

And some people will always be heroes, no matter what they do for a living.

The Things We Can’t Unsee: @/orphan-account

The mission was simple: get in, gather information, get out. Of course, Steve never really expected the enemy to follow this plan. One way or the other, something was bound to happen. They were the Avengers, after all. Nothing ever went easy for them.

What Steve didn’t expect was it going as far as it did; he didn’t expect having to make a decision that nobody should have to make.

Now Bucky’s lying there, bloody and dying all because of him, and Natasha’s poisonous words keep ringing in his head. Thinking about the ring he carries with him every day, Steve knows she’s right.

He’d never be able to make that call if it were Tony.

The Last Barman Poet: @nativemossy

Tony wasn't expecting anything more than dealing with a tequila-drunk Clint and a slightly wrinkled suit on this trip to Mexico. He got plenty more than he bargained for when he catches the eye of a handsome vacationer at the swim-up bar. Tipsy shenanigans ensue.

#adi's rec list #stevetony #superhusbands #steve rogers/tony stark #steve rogers x tony stark #steve x tony #underrated stevetony fics

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