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tadpolesonalgae · 3 months ago

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Dizzying Kisses

Feysand x reader

a/n: this started out so wholesome idk what happened 😭

warning: love at first sight trope; smut; f/f/m threesome; facesitting; oral (everyone); overstim; cumplay—Rhys using reader’s mouth like a shot glass

word count: 5,491

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It takes a bit of effort to unstick your eyelids from your lash line, but you eventually manage, rubbing at the sleep that’s crusted itself into an abrasive adhesive.

The sheets beneath you are soft and smooth, fragranced with something like vanilla and jasmine, a faint citrusy scent clinging to its edge and you wearily peer about, vision slightly blurred by a sleep addled brain.

Early morning sunlight has painted itself across the floorboards in a watery shade of cool-toned yellow, the diamond shaped panes of the glass windows casting thin, zigzagging shadows. The duvet itself seems to be cream covered, nestled beneath a rouge-rimmed quilt, stitched together with patches of dawn-pink, aquamarine-blue, dusky-orange, and tyrian-purple. Four wooden beams uphold the fabric draped overtop the bed, the curtains a shade of burnt orange on the interior, with a dark-red outside that has panels of maroon gossamer thinly veiling the material. A slight frill of burnished gold accents the hem.

A latch clicks from the far right side of the chamber, and you glance away from the window, blinking rapidly to clear away the fog as a female peers her lovely head around the door.

Not just any female, though.

You stiffen, hastily scrambling to sit straighter in the bed as you dip your head in a swift bow. “High Lady…”

She smiles, entering the room, her slipper-clad feet softly scuffing as she approaches. “You’re awake,” she notes, and you flush when she lays her palm across your forehead. “And better, by the looks of it.”

You blink, looking up at her quietly. “My Lady…?”

“Feyre,” she corrects, blue-grey eyes twinkling with life. “Please call me Feyre.”

You watch her silently for a second, attention flitting across her features for a clue to your circumstances—are you in her home? But you dip your head again, obeying her request.

Her eyes soften, and she pulls her hand away, your brow feeling faintly cool in its wake. “Do you remember last night?” She questions, and you shake your head, unease building in your gut as you worry your lower lip. Tuck your teeth away again.

Feyre hums to herself, her attention briefly skating over you, having not given herself the chance to beforehand. Skimming over your shoulders, the rumpled fabric of your night-gown, the soft roundness of your fingertips. How they’re dipping into the folds of the duvet. “You kissed me,” she says, glancing down at you, lips still curved gently. Mortification sets your skin ablaze, a delicate flame igniting in your flesh. “I— I kissed you?” You stammer, clutching the sheets as your fingers lock.

“Well, you kissed both of us, actually,” she corrects.

Your lips part with a sharp inhale, looking aghast. Deeply apologetic. “I— I’m so sorry, my Lady. I don’t know what must have come over me. Please, forgive—”

“We aren’t angry,” she interjects, holding you gaze firmly. She pries your left hand from the quilt, fingers warm and delicate beneath your own. “I believe it was a mistake on your part—the first time at least. Shall I show you? It may jog your memory.”

There’s nothing much for you to do besides nod, vaguely relaxing back into the padded headboard as she plies open your mind, slipping inside with ease.

The music is up-beat, strings playing a merry tune while the faelights shift in colour over head, panels of stained glass being slotted over them to give the illusion of the lights themselves changing.

I turn my head when I feel weakened fingertips seek out my wrist, gripping gently, only to be met with soft, faintly trembling lips being pressed to my own. I recognise the hint of the illegal drug almost immediately, and my eyes widen in time to watch as the female flinches, recoiling sharply.

At my back, my mate is swiftly approaching, a sure and familiar presence sweeping across the floor. It seems the female has enough sense left in her to recognise the thrumming power of the High Lord that’s already begun seeping across the floor in warning, other fae bodies instinctively making way so as not to catch his brewing mood.

Instead of cowering though, the female before me seems to panic briefly, before unsteadily tottering forward, making it just close enough to push onto her tiptoes and press a kiss to the High Lord’s jaw, before her legs give out and I’m catching her as she falls back, body limp.

Surprised violet eyes meet my own, brows raised as he glances down at the female passed out in my arms, head tipped to the side, laying across my breast.

Your lips are parted wider than they were last, but you don’t shut them. Instead panicking as the memories filter back into your mind, along with a faint pound of a growing headache. “I’m sorry,” you repeat, words tumbling in a frantic wash. “I— I remember seeing what had happened, and I had worried he might think I was trying to— So I wanted to kiss him to show I didn’t mean— Gods I’m so sorry.” An embarrassed flush heats your skin, simmering wickedly just below the surface of your flesh, head dipped in misery and shame.

“It’s perfectly okay,” the High Lady assures, squeezing your fingers. “I want you to know the male who drugged you has been found and dealt with—he will not be repeating his actions. We also had our healer check the concentration in your blood to make sure you were okay, and thankfully all you needed was a good night’s sleep to get everything out of your system.”

You flush, glancing to where she’s cupping your fingers, then looking at her again. “I’m still sorry for kissing you—both of you—even if there were external pressures…”

Feyre blinks slowly, her smile losing an ounce of its warmth. Barely noticeable, really, but you feel it. “Do you regret it?”

“I regret causing you discomfort, my L—” Her eyes harden, and you flush. “…Feyre. And your— and for kissing your mate…”

“And what about on your end?” She asks, tone softened only a little. You look at her questioningly but are unable to read the emotion in her blue-grey eyes. Cunning but deliberately blank. “Do you regret kissing either of us for your own discomfort?”

“No!” You speak hurriedly. “It’s an honour. I mean, hopefully that doesn’t make you upset to hear. I simply mean, to have been so close with either of you. I’m just so sorry I did what I did… How I did it…”

“You would have done differently had you been sober?” She asks, her hold tightening on your fingers, pulling your hand closer into her body.

You hesitate, fumbling. Glancing where her digits have begun twining with your own.

Feyre follows your gaze, and sighs, hands settling to the bed.

“My mate and I are divided on the matter,” she tells you, voice lowering to a hushed murmur. A guilty tug on her pretty pink lips. “He would rather give you space and time to warm up to us, since this meeting has happened so fast.” Fingers again squeeze your own, and she looks up at you with a glimmer in her heavy gaze. “But I’ve been on the end of that before, and hadn’t been pleased with his choices.”

You scan her features, trying to fit together the pieces but have the distinct feeling you’re missing something crucial. A fragment of memory that perhaps hasn’t yet allowed itself to resurface. Eyes flit to the curl of her digits between your own.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand?”

Feyre pauses in thought, then she presses her hand to your cheek, unlacing it from your fingers. Breath flutters in your chest as your High Lady leans in, her head tilted enough so her lips might slant diagonally across your mouth, and a faintly wavy lock of hair slides from her shoulder, tickling against your collar bones. You can feel each faint exhale. Mark how her pupils dilate, lashes flickering as she glances down at your mouth.

Your breath catches as something tugs at your rib, a small, tender thread wrapped around the delicate bone.

“Did you feel that?” Feyre questions, thumb stoking the curve beneath your lip, eyes following with each swipe. “What…what was…?”

It happens again, and your lungs stutter, mouth parting in awe as you stare at her.

You worry over voicing your thoughts for fear of reaching the wrong conclusion and only worsening your predicament. To be as brazen as to suggest a possibility that would defy logic and reason, when it’s likely fuelled by your own desires…

Feyre lays her mouth over your own, the flavour of her lips slightly musky with a hint of berry, and you wonder if she delighted in fruits for breakfast. Perhaps would like to swipe your tongue across the seam of her mouth to taste more of her. To sample more of this delicacy you’ll surely never have the chance of trying again.

A heady sound echoes in your Lady’s throat when you follow through with your fantasy. Her fingers dig into the soft underside of your jaw, both hands cupping your face to leverage her mouth closer, capturing your lower lip between her teeth and tugging on it gently. She’s close enough you can feel the faint flutter of air that her lashes bat your way.

Blue-grey eyes simmer with heat as she watches you, thumb stroking across the crest of your cheek before falling to the side of your neck, fingers sifting through strands of hair. With great attentiveness, she strokes her tongue across your own, her heart jumping when your body jolts lightly from the intimate touch, a lovely soft sound captured in your throat.

Her hands begin to wander.

At first it’s her thumb skimming across your throat, then she’s grazing her fingertips along the ridge of your collarbone, and then before you know it she’s trailed those nimble digits further, tracing the curve of your breast, knuckles skimming beneath the soft, feminine weight. Your lashes flutter against her cheek, before you’re pulling away to gaze down at where she’s touching you.

Feyre watches intently to see what you make of the touch. Heat warms your cheeks and your lips part on a trembling inhale, spine curving in an offer—one she’ll contentedly accept. The soft pad of her second finger teasingly circles your covered nipple, before clasping it between the sides of her index and middle finger, rolling. Your breathing deepens, sinking down into the pillows, subtly urging her to lay herself over you.

It’s when Feyre’s knee is pressing between your thighs, her faintly wavy hair ticklishly brushing your exposed skin—where she’s unbuttoned your night gown to bare your breasts to her—that a firm set of knocks are delivered to the door, a warning rather than a request. Your eyes fly open, arms instinctively slapping across your chest to conceal your breasts, nipples sensitive, and freshly-licked.

Violet eyes calmly take in your own, and the night comes rushing back, how you’d kissed his mate—accidentally, but it had happened nonetheless—then pressed your lips to his own skin, too.

You open your mouth to apologise, but Feyre’s talented fingers have linked around your wrists, and you squirm when she pushes them aside, so they sink into the pillows you’re lying on. Expelling a gasp from your lips.

“Looks like the two of your are becoming well acquainted,” the High Lord muses, stepping into the room, pausing beside the bed, gazing down at you with interest. “Do you mind my being here?” He asks, and you realise he’s bothering to question you. It makes sense, you suppose, you just hadn’t considered it. You flush, but shake your head, lungs stuttering when Feyre returns to your breasts, circling the hardened tip of her tongue over the peak of your right nipple, allowing a small amount of saliva to build before letting it unspool onto you, before repeating the circles.

“You look to be enjoying her mouth,” Rhysand muses, raising the backs of his fingers to gently skim your cheek, thumb idly swiping the corner of your mouth, dipping to the hollow beneath your lower lip. “Are you?”

Your flush deepens, thighs squeezing together against Feyre’s knee at the softly intimate touch, something fluttering beneath your ribs from the gentleness of the High Lord’s caress. Teeth pull at the interior of your lip, struggling to get a hold of the wild heat they’re igniting in your lower belly, a tingling feeling spreading between your thighs.

“Getting shy now?” Feyre coos, unlatching from your nipple much to your dismay. “You were perfectly talkative before… He’s not as scary as he looks.”

“Scary?” Rhys parrots under his breath, a note of incredulity to be found. Feyre raises an eyebrow as she glances over him, as if challenging him to disagree. But his lips fashion themselves into a mischievous, feline grin, capturing your chin with his fingers, directing your gaze upward to face him. “Would I be less scary without all these clothes on?”

Your face burns, lips parting on a softly stunned inhale, staring up at him in slight bewilderment, his words alone giving rise to a series of involuntary images careening through your mind before you can stop from conjuring them.

“Rhys,” Feyre scolds, “you’re overwhelming her. She doesn’t know what to do with all that.”

“We can show her.”

“Rhysand,” Feyre warns, but you can tell it’s playful. You want her attention back on you, sliding a little further down in the pillows so her knee is pressed closer between your legs. Blue-grey eyes mark the shift immediately, and you flush at having been caught, grip tightening in the sheets as you find elsewhere to look. Her rosey lips curve, leaning closer until they’re barely brushing your own, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “Something you want, birdie?”

You inhale at her proximity, spine stiffening from how close she is, how bare you are beneath her. How exposed.

You incline your chin almost imperceptibly.

Feyre smirks, and leans in, once again sealing her lips over yours, and you think she must be a slice of heaven. Your hands depart from the sheets, travelling up her thighs to her hips, spanning her delicate waist. Her hair tickles your shoulder, trailing away when Rhys’s fingers shift the curtain of silky hair, pushing the locks gently out of the way so he can see how his wife is kissing his…

A small noise is captured between your mouths when something tugs at one of your ribs, a delicate thread being plucked that has you jolting. Pulling away.

“A second mate is unheard of,” Feyre murmurs, looking at you with a mixture of awe and disbelief. “And yet here she is,” Rhys finishes, making you blink, glancing between the two.

“You said you were honoured,” Feyre continues, drawing your attention back to her. “Are you still of the same mindset?” You stare at her, comprehension dawning as you accept your belief as truth, fantasy merging with reality. “What she’s asking,” Rhysand clarifies, allowing his fingers to fall from Feyre to graze across you collar bone, tracing upward to your jaw, brushing your cheek, “is will you have us.”

“Yes.” It’s softer than a whisper, shorter than a breath, but they feel it. Feel the acceptance without reluctance or hesitation. Falling into their arms.

Feyre’s eyes go briefly hazy as it clicks into place inside of her, a flush of colour rising to her cheeks with biological satisfaction. “Good,” she breathes, “perfect.”

Her scent has shifted, floating over to you, and instinct tells you exactly what it means. When her blue-grey eyes return to yours, they’re dilated; hungry. Information you should have no access to flowing into your body, innately understanding their states of being.

“How are you feeling?” Feyre asks, voice huskier than before, dragging with arousal. A heat has begun sprouting in your body, beginning to simmer and bubble, more prominently than before, abruptly taking off. You swallow. Nod your head.

“What you’re feeling,” Rhysand supplies smoothly, the only one able to grapple with the biological instincts urging you together as the one who understands it the most, “is the effects of the mating bond clicking into place. Since our bond,”—he gestures between him and Feyre— “is already set in place, the symptoms will make themselves known much more swiftly, while yours may take a few hours or even a day to reveal themselves.”

Right. The frenzy.

You flush.

“Do you—” Feyre swallows, cutting herself off before trying again, having to wet her lips, “do you want to join us?”

“Join you?” You’re breathless.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to manage between us, if you would like to rest,” Rhysand supplies, though you have the impression it strains on him to give that safety net. As if reminded of the option, Feyre’s eyes flick to him, hungrily tracing the cut of his figure, watching with a heavy-lidded gaze. You shift your hips against her knee, and they return to you.

In your periphery Rhysand readjusts his trousers.

“Will you?” She breathes, her hand rising from the mattress, shifting her weight to her other arm to allow her fingers to coast upward between your breasts, playing with the dip of your collarbone, tracing the outline. “We’ll be careful,” she assures, fingers now tracing across your lower lip, transfixed as her instincts call for her to strip you bare, explore the flavour of your mouth and skin; the taste between your legs.

“We could start with just one of us?” She tells you, your heart fluttering wildly as her words drip over your skin. “You and me first…”

“Greedy,” Rhys mutters.

“Rhys can watch,” she amends. “We can play in my and his bed—it’s much larger than this one—and I could start with these…” You gasp when she lowers her hand to your breast, circling your nipple with a feather-light touch, tugging on it gently. “Then we could move further…” Feyre takes your wrist in hand, moving to straddle your hips as she brings your palm to her chest, watching you intently as her spine curves into your touch. “And you could try touching me, if you like…? Would you like that? Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“She needs a chance to respond, Feyre,” Rhys chuckles, leaning against one poster of the large bed. She peers at you intently, rocking her hips almost subconsciously. “You’ll feel so good,” she whispers, bringing your other hand to cup her breast so you have both palms over her. “What do you think?”

Your flush deepens, looking away, and you can feel Feyre’s grip loosening, crestfallen.

“I…” You swallow, finding her gaze again, her expression attentive, then glancing briefly over Rhys, nerves wriggling beneath your skin before you look away again, peering at the floor. “I don’t want Rhys to feel left out…”

You inhale sharply at the stark arousal that blares down the bond, your thighs squeezing together in response, Rhys shifting as he takes down a steadying breath. A noise escapes your throat with the staggering awareness the bond is affording you, able to feel their hunger in your bones, perhaps also affording you a little more confidence than usual.

“We’re all mates, aren’t we?” You ask, glancing skittishly between them both. When they nod, you continue. “So I’d like…I think it would mean more to be with both of you…all together.”

————

They make you so dizzy.

The soft press of Feyre’s narrow lips dragging up the length of your throat, nipping at spaces below your jaw, licking over the bite marks they’ve each put into your skin, forgetting which ones belong to who; the heavy drag of Rhys’ fingers as they dip along the interior of your thighs, palms cupping the round curve of your knees only to slip beneath and delicately raise both legs to your chest; the heat of watching clothes fall to the ground, buttons coming free and ties being loosened, hair pushed back over delicate shoulders and sterling silver bands removed from scar-flecked fingers, flexing before they settle into the rhythm of touch.

You crawl after Feyre as she pulls away, pushing her second and middle finger to your lips to still you, her own mouth curving with feminine satisfaction. And now the question she’ll ask: “Who do you want next?”

How many times have they taken turns making you answer that question. How many times have you shamelessly given an answer. How many times have they satisfied your desire only to ask again, “Who do you want next?”

Always a next; never an end.

You whimper, clit puffy and sensitive from relentless stimulation, pleasure budding through your body, liquid gold buzzing beneath your skin. How many more touches can you take?

“Answer me,” Feyre coos, fingers slipping beneath your chin to incline your lips, leaning forward to almost meet you. “Who do you want next?”

“Feyre…” You’re nearly crying, so turned around, so dizzy. So desperate for movement and friction. “Please…” The High Lady beams, cupping your cheeks between her palms and pulling you close enough your noses touch, “mhmm? You want me?”

“Please…”

“How do you want me?” Feyre crawls closer, her knees touching your own, “Tell me how you want me.” Your lips part, cheeks flushing. Tongue shifting against your teeth. You’re too embarrassed to tell her.

Tender claws scratch at your mind, and your walls give a few moments later, tentatively lowering enough for her to slip inside and nestle with you. Watching the image you present her with.

Blue-grey eyes glitter with hunger, her mouth popping open, blinking away her surprise before grinning. “I didn’t think you’d be so dirty,” Feyre purrs, palms wrapping around your waist to pull you with her as she falls back into the bed, walking you up her body.

“Are my girls done scheming?” Rhys asks from behind you, effortlessly sending a hot shiver up your spine. His voice alone contains enough power to make your knees buckle. And, my girls. You and Feyre. He’s seeing the two of you together.

You rest your hands on the headboard, leaning forward enough that Feyre can grin at her mate from beneath you, “We’ll always be scheming, High Lord.” Her legs open, and your mouth waters. “Think you can keep up, Rhys?”

“Always, for you.” Feyre’s hands begin to loop over your hips to pull you down but Rhysand reaches forward and you gasp when you feel his thick fingers skating up the line of your spine, hairs prickling as you shiver. “You, too,” the High Lord purrs, pushing your hair to one side so he can reach the top of your spine. Your throat closes up, heart fluttering as those deft digits descend down the knots of your back. Stiffening in anticipation when he pauses at the base. “Turn around,” he instructs, clearly. “I should be able to see you, too.”

The hot breath of Feyre’s moan caresses your inner thigh, and you tighten around nothing. With flushed cheeks you slowly turn, careful of the female lying beneath you.

Violet eyes glimmer with starlight, and millions of tiny, fluttery wings erupt into motion between your thighs.

“Better,” he says, quietly. A faint smile on his soft mouth. “Now sit.”

You part your legs, shakily sinking down onto Feyre’s mouth, Rhysand keeping your eyes locked with him—watching as you settle, watching as your hands find placement on her breasts, watching as Feyre licks up through your centre and you shudder. An adoring smile half-lifts one edge of Rhysand’s lips, his irises softening at their edges as he marks the pleasure unfolding within you. Only then do his thumbs press into the meat of Feyre’s thighs, finding the divot at the interior of her knees to hold them apart, aligning himself, and sliding in.

You can’t help the way your mouth waters.

Rhys catches you staring and leans himself forward, grinning as you flush with embarrassment, “Wishing that was you?”

Your lips part, eyes darting away but he grips your chin lightly, forcefully guiding your gaze back to his. He leans closer and you shudder as Feyre’s lips wrap around your clit, suckling tenderly. Rhysand’s hand cups the nape of your neck, and wild heat fills your skin as he slowly licks over your bottom lip, the tip of his tongue dragging over the bitten area to drag lightly over your top one. You’re frozen stiff, completely at his mercy. He chuckles, like he finds your awe amusing. Lightly appreciative of your reverence.

But then he kisses you once on the lips and pulls back, both palms falling to Feyre’s waist, his thumb grazing over the beauty mark that lies a little to the left of her belly button. His hips draw back and slide in, Feyre’s back arching when he meets her all the way, hips held tight to her own. You can’t help the way your fingers fall to graze over her abdomen, able to see the prominent outline of the High Lord nestled within his mate.

He’s been inside you the same way he’s inside her.

You have to lick your lips.

“Move,” you whisper, circling your hips over Feyre’s mouth, almost certainly smearing arousal across her lips; the tip of her rosey nose; her chin. The High Lady moans her agreement, inclining her hips from the bed and you watch as the muscles in her thighs and stomach flex. Feline grace contained within her flesh. You want to taste every part of her you can.

Rhys begins slowly, languidly moving inside of her, rolling his hips so he slides all the way in to his base. Soon enough he sets their pace, and your eyes nearly roll with the pleasurable warmth that’s being delivered to your body, fizzling and fluttering throughout. Heat is prominent on the High Lord’s cheeks, tan skin flushed with colour and you’re all so sensitive but needing of more that release is swift and fulfilling. Bright flashes of pleasure zipping down your thighs, bursts of heat fluttering in your lower belly, warm-pink flame heating and heating until you’re boiling and bubbling over.

Rhys grits his teeth, likely trying to cope with the pleasure of Feyre’s orgasm, and you can’t help yourself.

You lean forward, cunt still seated on the High Lady’s mouth, your palms sloping up his well-muscled chest to wrap over his shoulder to push your lips together, tongue licking against him, tasting him, devouring him. The High Lord’s control splinters, then fractures entirely, a groan of pure, male pleasure delivered to your mouth as he releases deep inside his mate. You want it to be as drawn out as possible, for him to fill her up as much as he can, until she’s dripping.

It’s only when he’s panting, breathless and with his head lowered that you know he’s finished.

Teeth prod into your lower lip, fresh arousal dripping from your cunt, cleaned away by Feyre’s tongue. Her fingers drum ticklishly over your thighs, knowing what you’ve been waiting for. You can practically see the smug, satisfied grin on her rosey lips.

The combined effort of the both of you has you taking her place on the bed in mere seconds, lying on your back with a blinking Rhys now positioned between your thighs. Feyre mounts your mouth like she’s descending onto her throne, thighs parted and facing you so she can run her fingers through your hair.

Rhysand freezes when he understands what’s going on. Then his warrior’s hands have shackled your ankles and you’re roughly dragged down the bed, swept out from under your mate and you whine, crying out and reaching for her. But there’s heat in his eyes, a wicked smile on his mouth, mischief and hunger twinkling between the starlight. “I did all the work, darling,” he rumbles, the words rough and gravelly from his chest. “The least you can do is let me watch.”

You flush as you’re repositioned: half-way up the bed with Feyre hovering over your face, your mouth open and her legs spread; further up the bed is Rhys, gazing down at you so he can watch every stroke of your tongue, every drip of his cum that’s mixed with Feyre’s own orgasm that you collect on your lips, tasting in your mouth.

“I should have known what you two were planning,” Rhys drawls, cock hard against his stomach from watching the show. He’s eaten his release out of Feyre before but it’s different watching someone else do it. It’s different having a mate to watch do it. “So dirty indeed.”

“And it was all her idea,” Feyre muses proudly from atop her perch. “You were so shy to show it to me,” she coos.

“Looks like she’s a wicked one.” Violet eyes flick to Feyre. “She’ll rival you for your mischief.”

“I think you mean she’ll rival you. You’re the dirty one.”

Their eyes simultaneously drop, and you flush beneath their attention, hair spread out messily across the mattress, licking Feyre’s cunt whenever you please. Rhys’ fingers trail across your forehead, playing with a few stray strands of hair. “You like that? Tasting us together?”

You moan softly, licking up and circling Feyre’s clit, causing her to moan.

Butterflies start fluttering anew when Rhys wraps his hand around his cock, still achingly hard, cum beginning to drizzle down his tip. Your temperature spikes, mouth watering further. Rhys’ eyes twinkle, his mouth curving before he’s shifting onto his knees. “You know,” he muses, looming so comparatively high above you while Feyre keeps you pinned to the mattress, “let’s find out how dirty she is.”

Your thighs have to squeeze together at the blatant lust in his voice, clit pulsing as you rub your legs together.

Violet eyes meet your own, and you shiver. Rhys grins. “You look pretty happy, down there.” You moan, licking at her hungrily, wanting her to stop hovering and to finally just sit. His hand continues stroking himself to the sign, up and down, slowly building his pleasure again. There isn’t much time you need to wait—you’re all so stimulated, so sensitive to touch. Rhys has to grit his teeth through the first series of strokes before the tension is being released and he’s panting again, muscles flexing in his stomach and forearms.

“Think you can take some more?” Rhys groans, and you watch with desperate eyes as a bead of cum slips over his head. “Answer me.”

You nod your head. “More,” you pant, watching him intently. Rhys’ eyes nearly roll, but then yours nearly cross as he shifts his hips, the tip of his cock nearly bumping into Feyre’s clit. He’s intending to finish straight into your mouth.

You can’t help it, then. Your hand lifts from the bed and trails down your body, fingers slipping between your thighs. It’s a mix between painful and perfectly oversensitive, clit hard and puffy beneath your digits that slide right down your centre, two fingers sinking inside yourself and curling.

It doesn’t take long from there.

“Gods, you’re such a good girl,” Feyre praises, biting her lip as she palms her breasts, cupping them and thumbing across her nipples. “Isn’t she perfect, Rhys?”

“So perfect.” He agrees. “So dirty.”

You whimper in protest but Rhys cocks a brow and you shut up. He smirks. “So good, and so obedient, isn’t she?”

“Perfect for us,” Feyre agrees, moaning as she circles her hips faintly, seeking the attention of your tongue which swiftly returns to attend to her, flicking over her clit and licking up her centre. “A perfect little mate to play with.”

Rhys groans, the noise rumbling in his chest as his orgasm finds him at last, release pouring from his tip, shooting down between your lips and filling you up. His hip buck, his fingers flexing around his cock as pleasure pulses through his body, his eyes shutting tight as his muscles tremble.

The tip of your finger drags back up over your clit and you come undone.

Feyre watches, utterly content, as her two mates reach completion around her. She can just make out your eyes, half-rolled as your own high filters through your blood. Then there’s Rhys, whose hand is shaking as he pumps himself, hips seemingly moving of their own accord as he tries to keep himself going for as long as possible, throwing himself into overstimulation for the sake of your pleasure.

She sits happily on your mouth when he’s done, his blue-black hair falling against her shoulder as hot breath fans down her front.

How lucky they are to have found such a sweet, mischievous little mate to match them.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover @mrsjna @acoazlove

feysand taglist: @girlmadeofavocados @zara-aliza08

#feysand x reader #feysand x reader smut #dizzying kisses #feysand x you #feysand #feysand x you smut

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penkura · 7 months ago

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where you belong [1/10]

Summary: As Luffy's big sister, you've viewed it to be your job to see him become King of the Pirates in place of your absent parents, even as you try to find where it is you belong in the world. You never really expected to draw the attention of Trafalgar Law in the process.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader

Warnings: Discussion of feelings of abandonment, age gap relationship (four years), brief secret relationship, mentions and heavy refences to sex, mentions of alcohol, typical One Piece stuff. Other warnings to be added if needed.

Notes: Hi, it's me again! Another fanfic here for you all! When this goes up, I'll be on my last day of vacation before I fly home, so I hope that you'll enjoy this! I know Straw Hat Reader x Law is popular, and I wanted to write my own, but with the Reader being Luffy's biological older sister. So for this, Reader is three years older than Luffy, 20 at the start and 22 after the timeskip, making Law four years older. I personally like older men, and age gap fics are just delicious reading material for me (within reason, nothing illegal).

Note 2: This is NOT the Law with vitiligo series. That one is actively being planned but will be separate from this one.

“And I’m gonna be King of the Pirates!!”

Luffy standing your tiny dingy boat worries you a little, but you still grin at him and nod.

“Hell yeah you will be!”

“Your turn! What’re you gonna do while we sail??”

Rolling your eyes, you make Luffy sit down while you stand up.

“Easy. I’m gonna chronicle your journey and write the greatest story ever told!”

Your younger brother watches you, tilting his head when you don’t continue. He believes there has to be more you want out of life, and tries to make you say what else is in your plans, what you have on your mind.

“And?”

Taking a breath, you nod. Of course he knew you had more, it’s Luffy, he’s been by your since he was just a few weeks old. Things you’ve said over time, to him and Ace, they’d both known for a long time what you’ve always wanted to find once you went out to sea.

“And find where it is I belong.”

+!+

Your arrival in Sabaody was a trip, in more than one way. You'd been excited to explore the place, hoping you could pawn your younger brother off on Camie, Pappag, and the others so you could have some time on your own to shop the stalls, maybe with Nami and Robin, turn it into a girl’s day. Of course, though, nothing could be so easy when your brother is the captain of the Straw Hats. You all find yourselves at the human auction hall, Nami willing to spend all the money possible to save Camie, but it makes you itchy while being there. You cringe to think about the things that happened in this place, how many people had been sold to Celestial Dragons. Your and Luffy's loss of Sabo due to the actions of one had severely soured your opinions on them.

You scan the crowd in the auction house, scratching at your arms which never seem to calm down while the rest of your crew discusses their plan to save Camie, and you end up locking eyes with another pirate captain there, unknown to you at that moment but somehow familiar.

A furry white, spotted hat, dark hair you can barely see, oddly enough you think his facial hair is attractive, and those yellow eyes that you almost would believe see right through you.

Trafalgar Law simply stares at you, realizing you’re a Straw Hat when he recognizes the rest of your crewmates. After a moment of fidgeting slightly you give him a nervous smile and a wave, which he returns with a nod before turning back to the auction stage as they continue to call bids on people.

Weird girl.

Strange guy.

Although she’s busy watching for Camie to be brought out, Nami still leans into you when you pull on her sleeve and start to whisper. “You see that guy in the white spotted hat?”

“What about him?”

“I think he’s Trafalgar Law, captain of the Heart Pirates. He’s more attractive than his poster makes him.”

Rolling her eyes, Nami pulls her arm away from you. “I don’t have time for you to be horny about some guy.”

“Wha—Nami!! I’m not! I’m just saying.”

She doesn’t listen to you anymore, focusing back on waiting for Camie and sending you to watch for Luffy, just so you don’t get distracted by the attractive enemy captain and defect to another crew.

You swear you never will, but do as you’re told to watch for your brother. Maybe one day you’ll get to properly meet Law, you’re quite curious about the young man.

+!+

“Another one?! Are you kidding me, Dragon?!”

You’re three years old when you wake up to your grandfather yelling at someone in the middle of the night. Normally Garp is sure to keep things quiet so you, his sweet little princess angel granddaughter, can sleep peacefully. He’d leave early in the morning once your nanny showed up for the day, returning before dinner so he had the evenings with you before you had to be off to bed, to do the day over again the next morning. It’s rare for you to stay up late or wake up early, but the few mornings you’ve woken up before he left were some of Garp’s favorites.

You quietly slip out of your bed, blanket in your hand as you rub your eyes and go to the door, opening it just enough to see what’s happening. Garp is there with someone in a green cloak, you can’t see the other person’s face, but listen anyway.

“He’s the last one, there won’t be anymore.”

“You said [Y/N] was going to be the only one!”

“Things happened.”

“Obviously something happened, babies don’t appear out of thin air!’

You tilt your head, the man in the cloak catching your eye, which makes you shy away behind your doorway, glancing away before back to him as he looks to Garp again.

“Take care of them.” He goes to leave and is gone before Garp can even stop him.

“Dragon, wait--! That…damn idiot.”

“Grandpa?”

Garp is surprised to hear your voice, turning around once he closes the door, giving you a smile while you start to focus on the bundle he's holding.

“Hey there, princess, what are you doing up?”

“I heard yelling…”

Nodding, Garp apologizes as he picks you up, letting you settle on his free arm. “Sorry about that, angel. Just… an unexpected visitor.”

“Oh…”

Garp sees you staring more at the bundle of blankets in his arm than at him, and he sighs a bit, taking you to the living room and setting you on the couch, before showing you how to position your arms as he sets the now squirming bundle in your arms.

“[Y/N], this is your baby brother. His name is Luffy.”

How unexpected! You’ve never thought about having a sibling, just enjoying your childhood and life with your grandpa, but seeing this tiny little boy in your just as small arms makes you grin while you look at him. Dark black hair and just as dark eyes, scrunched up little face and tiny hands in fists while he starts to fuss and whine.

“Luffy…”

+!+

Luffy…

You hope your prayers aren’t going unheard, that Luffy will return to you safely. Ace’s death has long passed, but you’re more worried about your little brother than anything else right now. You’d both been sent off to Amazon Lily by Kuma, but after they’d all agreed to let you both stay, and Boa Hancock seems to have fallen in love with him, Luffy left you there to go rescue Ace, that was nearly three weeks ago now, you think. You want him back, both of them, but want to see Luffy more than anyone else.

“Luffy’s returned, [Y/N]-san!”

“He has?!”

Marguerite nods and you quickly get up from your seat and run after her to wherever Luffy is. The newspapers kept implying he was dead, you were terrified you’d lost him and Ace that day, no updates from anyone apart from the papers cheering for the Navy’s alleged victory, for the deaths of Ace and Whitebeard. The Amazons, all so kind to let you stay while Luffy went to try and rescue Ace, were unsure of how to help you the last two weeks once Ace’s vivre card burned to nothing in your hands and made you nearly inconsolable.

Despite that, your prayers hadn’t gone unheard.

Once you’re at the beach that Luffy should be at, you notice immediately the big yellow submarine with the word DEATH on it and it freaks you out more than anything. You don’t know who owns it, but when you catch sight of someone you’ve only seen in person once, you worry that he’s done something to Luffy. You don’t say a word, but someone in a jumpsuit (boiler suit you think?) calls out “captain” just in time for him to turn towards you as you shove the older boy to the ground, placing yourself on top of him and your knife to his neck.

Part of you wishes it was poisoned right now, just in case this Trafalgar Law has done something to your brother.

“Where’s Luffy?!”

The knife you have at his neck doesn’t phase Law even a tiny bit, it’s the fact that someone so much shorter and smaller than him was able to catch him off guard and shove him to the ground the way you did. You’re angry for some reason, giving him a nasty glare but look like you’re about to cry on top of it, as he just stares at you, his crewmembers shouting for you to get off their captain before he raises a hand to stop them.

“Who—”

“Tell me, where is my brother?!”

Oh so that’s what’s wrong, that’s who you are. Whether you’re related to Luffy by blood or by ritual cup like Ace was, Law doesn’t know, but he’s sure you want reassurance you haven’t lost two brothers in one day.

“Are you [Y/N]?”

You turn your head to look over your shoulder at Jinbei, still glaring. “Who’s asking?!”

“I was friends with your brother Ace, he told me about you and Luffy while we were in Impel Down.”

“He…did?”

You’ve calmed down so quickly hearing Ace’s name, retracting your knife just slightly, while Jinbei explains things to you. You don’t move off of Law though, listening quietly, fighting the desire to cry more. You’ve done enough of that, you don’t want to anymore today.

Law doesn’t even try to move you off, knowing, like Luffy, you’re emotionally hurting right now. He doesn’t want to risk you slicing his neck either, even as Jinbei finishes telling you everything Ace did, and you still don’t move or look at Law.

“Ace hopes you find what you’re looking for.”

You clench your jaw a bit at first, before smiling sadly and nodding, thanking Jinbei for the information before Law speaks up.

“If you get off me, I can take you to Straw Hat-ya.”

You blink, finally looking back to Law, and you feel your face burn with a blush when you realize your position and scramble to get off him, apologizing the whole way while he shakes his head. Once he’s on his feet, Law let’s you onto the Polar Tang and leads you down the hallway to the infirmary, updating you on Luffy’s condition the best he can with the knowledge he has.

“If he pulls through this, the most you’ll have to worry about is his mental health.”

“Mm.” You nod, grabbing Law’s arm as he stops to open a door, making him look back at you. “I apologize for shoving you down.”

“I’ve been through worse,” Law shrugs, you could tell just from looking at him, though he does smirk a bit at you, “Never had a girl push me down and hold a poisoned knife to my neck before though.”

“It wasn’t poisoned,” you almost shout, but keep your voice down to not wake Luffy, “…this time…”

He almost laughs, but when you see Luffy finally, you’re instantly but his side, taking his hand and trying to keep yourself from crying seeing him in such a state. He’d been injured badly before, but never like this, never this close to death.

“Luffy…oh Luffy, I’m here, Lu,” you brush his bangs away from his face before kissing his forehead, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, I should’ve come with you…”

Law doesn’t bother you for the next several minutes, stepping out so you have some privacy while you make sure Luffy is all right, your quiet prayers that he wakes soon and heals quickly don’t go unheard by the surgeon of death, who thinks back to his own sister and the prayers he’d once prayed for her health as a child.

As an older sibling, he gets it. While he still doesn’t know yet if you’re related by blood or sworn siblings, he does see how much you care for Luffy, and for your sake he hopes your captain wakes sooner rather than later.

+!+

You spend the next two weeks in and out of the Polar Tang, checking on Luffy and praying over him to wake soon, Law being the one to take you in and lead you back out most of the time, even though you’ve memorized the path already. The next time you leave Luffy to continue recovering, the friends you and Luffy have made from Amazon Lily have shown up in the time you’ve been with him, bringing food and drinks for you all. As you walk over to where he’s seated, Law offers you a drink that you reject with a shake of your head, sitting on the other side of the tree and bringing your knees up to your chest, hiding your face in them.

“Any signs he’s waking up?”

Shaking your head, you sigh and lean back, looking at the people around to distract yourself from worrying over Luffy.

“That your crew?”

“Yep. All twenty of them.”

You smile a bit, watching the Heart Pirates goof off while some have their meal and share drinks. It almost reminds you of the Straw Hats and makes your heart ache from missing them deeply.

“You have a nice group there.”

“They can be a handful.”

It makes you laugh a bit, nodding before you decide to stop wallowing and get back up, standing beside Law where he stays seated.

“Think you should hold this for now.”

Law tosses Luffy’s straw hat to you, and you grit your teeth a bit while you stare at it. You had wondered where it was, seeing it wasn’t around when you were with Luffy. You hold nothing but the highest regards for Shanks, he'd been an inspiration for you and Luffy when you were children, he helped end the war and helped Law save Luffy, but how you wish he’d shown up sooner. Maybe he could’ve helped Ace too.

“Thank you, for holding this.”

“Seems important to him, he’s not Straw Hat-ya without it.”

Smiling a bit, you nod. “He’s certainly not.”

“How do you—”

“I’m his big sister. I was three when our dad dropped him off with me and grandpa. We’ve been together almost every day since.”

“I see.”

You’re not entirely sure you trust Law, despite his saving Luffy, but you’re willing to give him a shot. At least let him know a bit about your history with Ace too, since he'd been there when you hadn’t been. Where Luffy asked you not to go.

“We met Ace and another boy when I was ten, and become sworn siblings with them soon after. The other boy died a few months later,” you grip the straw hat a bit tighter, but loosen your hold after being stabbed in the hand by sharp bits of straw, “a Celestial Dragon did it, we’ve not been fans of them since, so Luffy punching that one in Sabaody felt like some payback.”

“That makes sense.”

After a few minutes of silence, you finally realize something and turn to Law, sticking your hand out for him.

“Never introduced myself. Monkey D. [Y/N]. I don’t really use my last name though.”

Law takes your hand after a moment, nodding. “Trafalgar Law.”

“Thank you for saving my baby brother.”

“Don’t thank me until he wakes up.”

As if almost on cue, the door comes flying off the Polar Tang and you both whip your heads over, Law running ahead of you as you follow, and Luffy’s the next thing to almost fly out of the ship.

“Luffy!!”

You’re about to run to him before Law grabs hold of your arm, pulling you to himself and holding you still, even while you thrash around and listen to Luffy call for Ace. It breaks your heart to see him so upset, and you just want to console him, have him do the same for you, while you both continue to grieve for Ace. But Law won’t let you go to him, fear or concern your brother might hurt you while he fights through pain and raging emotions, before he disappears into the forest.

“Luffy, come back!!”

You barely register Jinbei asking what’ll happen if Luffy continues to flail and run off like that, before Law speaks and your heart almost drops to your stomach at the thought.

“If he continues to move around like that he could reopen his wound and bleed out. He’ll die.”

Quickly you turn around and Law isn’t at all shocked to see the tears welling up in your eyes as you grip his shirt, still holding Luffy’s straw hat.

“Don’t let that happen!! Please!! He’s all I have! Luffy is my whole world, I can’t lose him!!”

Unsure of what to do, especially once you lay your head on his chest while you cry, Law hesitantly wraps his arms around you and watches Jinbei go off to Luffy. Maybe he’ll be able to calm your brother down before he really hurts or kills himself.

You’ve both been through a lot the last few weeks, losing Luffy would break you more than losing Ace did to him.

+!+

“I’m sorry I got snot on your shirt.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll wash.”

You glance away and keep your eyes averted while Law changes shirts, having taken you onto the Polar Tang while Jinbei attempts to calm Luffy down. He didn’t fully mean to bring you into his room, but he never let go of your wrist while he led through the ship, making you sit down to hopefully calm you down. You do catch sight of his tattoos, wanting to say something but you don’t want to sound like a creep or a pervert at the same time.

“Why don’t you use your last name?”

Law surprises you once he’s changed shirts, this one almost the same as the yellow one he’d been wearing, but now a dark blue with a furry, feathery collar that you really want to pet, it looks soft. But again, you don’t want to seem like a creep.

For a moment you’re quiet, before you cross your arms and lean against the wall, shrugging.

“Why should I use the name of someone who abandoned me? I only have one memory of my father, and it was when he dropped off Luffy.”

“Your grandfather is Garp, isn’t he?”

“I love my grandpa like he’s my dad…but I don’t want to use my last name.”

Law nods a bit, seeming to understand. You felt abandoned, and wanted nothing to do with your biological father, instead viewing Garp in that light, which makes sense.

He'd viewed Corazon in the same light at one point.

“Your mother?”

“I know nothing about her. It’s like…” You start to bury your head in your knees again, almost digging your nails into your arms, “Like I don’t know who I am half the time…”

He gets that too, the same feelings after Flevance, after losing Corazon and leaving the Don Quixote family, leaving Doflamingo behind. Many times of looking in the mirror and asking “who the hell am I”.

Law is about to respond, before one of his crewmembers yells for you both that Luffy and Jinbei have returned to the beach, and you’re out the door so fast he isn’t able to believe it. He follows you out, not all surprised to see you and Luffy hugging each other tightly once he exits his ship.

Your bond with Luffy would be on full display the next few days, Law truthfully does wonder if he and Lammy would’ve been the same.

+!+

“I met some people who are friends with our dad.”

“You what?”

Luffy nods, giving you this information during dinner one evening, while you stare at him with such a blank look that Law thinks you’ve completely shut down. You didn’t say too much about your dad while you relayed some of your childhood to him earlier that day, apart from your perceived abandonment, but the look you have isn’t a very happy one.

“They’re were some cool people! They helped me escape that prison and…tried to help me save Ace.”

“So they were revolutionaries.”

“Yeah, they…they said they didn’t even know we existed.” Luffy scrunches up his face a bit while you frown, then pat his head.

“I’m not surprised, Lu.”

Luffy makes a face now, one that’s almost disgusted but annoyed but upset maybe. Law swears he isn’t trying to eavesdrop, you two are sitting too close to him anyway, you’re practically pressed up against his side. You both appear to have problems with your father, after the little bit you’ve told him and how you confessed to feeling abandoned by your parents. He wonders briefly is Luffy feels the same, even as your younger brother leans against you, pushing you fully into Law’s arm and making you glance up at him apologetically. He doesn’t move, once again doesn’t push you off, instead shifting his arm enough for you to be comfortable.

When Luffy falls asleep, you finally speak again.

“Luffy met our dad once, in Loguetown”

“Oh yeah?”

“Neither of us knew until grandpa told us…he didn’t even stop to say anything to me…”

“…I’m sorry.”

You shrug, watching Luffy. It still stung to know that, to know that Dragon didn’t even seek you out when he must’ve known you were on Luffy’s crew, that you’d never leave him to do this alone. When Garp told you he’d been in Loguetown that day, it felt like a knife in your heart that you didn’t even get to see or speak to your father.

Law, while he watches you start to drift off to sleep yourself, thinks about his own dad and Corazon at the same time. He had two fathers in the end, who both cared about and loved him deeply, both wanting to protect him as long as they could. He had his mother and Lammy too, you had Luffy and Garp, but it wasn’t enough for you, and it makes sense. To not have that connection with the people who gave you life, Law can’t even imagine how difficult that must be.

He ignores the slight snickers and comments from his crew when they see you leaned against him, even has he slightly tilts his head towards yours, not going all the way to lay his against your own. Even when Shachi makes a small comment about ‘love’ being in the air at Amazon Lily, Law doesn’t open his eyes to respond or even Shambles his friend away.

You won’t see each other again for a long time after this, most likely, so he’s willing to give you some comfort and allow his crew to see him a little softer than normal.

+!+

“Bye, thanks for your help, Traffy!”

Law tries not to grimace at the nickname Luffy’s given him over the last few days, nodding to you both as his crew also shouts goodbyes and wave to you both, you personally sad to see them leave. You’d spent so much time getting to know them while taking care of Luffy, that it felt like you were losing friends again. You’d probably see them one day, maybe as friends but maybe as foes, yet, you’d like to see more of Law and learn about him like he had you.

Luffy notices your face, the sad look it has, then looks back to the Heart Pirates as they start to disappear below deck. You’ve already chosen to stay on Amazon Lily the next two years and learn from the women there how to fight, but even watching you the last couple days, he could see your heart wasn’t in it. You more so loved using your knives and making poisons, he remembers the one he and Ace mistakenly drank thinking it was lavender tea from Makino. You weren’t an archer or a swordswoman, you much prefer close combat and paralyzing your enemies. Your work during Enies Lobby earned you your $25 million berri bounty, the Navy having trouble recreating antidotes from the one you’d left with a knocked out marine, they knew you’d be trouble one day.

With all that in mind, Luffy sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around you in what you first believe to be a hug, before he lifts you up and you look at him. He’s got a grin that concerns you greatly as the color drains from your face.

“Luffy.”

He giggles a bit, nodding at you to brace yourself.

“Luffy, don’t you dare.”

“Have fun with Traffy for two years!!!”

He doesn’t give you anymore room to argue, flinging you towards the Polar Tang, making you yell for Law to pay attention, and he barely does in time to catch you, knocking both of you to the ground, several Heart Pirates making sure both of you are all right and that Law didn’t hit his head on anything.

You’re up and holding onto the railing, yelling at Luffy, “You’re an idiot!!!”

He pretends he can’t hear you, waving widely and shouting another goodbye, but to you this time.

Once Law is sitting up, realizing what the hell has happened, he sighs a bit while you look back to him.

“I’m sorry, Trafalgar. You can turn back and I’ll beat some sense into him!”

One of his crewmembers, you’re pretty sure it’s Shachi, leans down to ask him, “Should we? Kinda seems like Straw Hat wants us to take her along.”

He sighs, taking his hat off and running his hand through his hair, shaking his head.

“You can stay.”

“…huh?”

You tilt your head in confusion, Law doesn’t think it’s cute at all no matter what that weird feeling in his chest is, while he stands up and nods at you.

“The Amazons might get angry if we return without permission, so we’ll just…take you along…and then bring you to Sabaody.”

Blinking several times, you’re still confused while some of his crew laugh, Penguin coming up to pat you on the back.

“You’re a temporary Heart Pirate! We’ll take care of you!”

Nodding, Law turns to go below deck.

“Say your goodbye, we’ll be going under shortly.”

While the rest of them follow after their captain, you turn back and see Luffy still waving at you, which makes you sigh and shake your head. You do smile though, you had wanted to continue getting to know Law and his crew, this was a perfect opportunity, and maybe he could help you with creating effective antidotes for your poisons.

“Luffy! Love you, see you in two years!”

“Okay!!!!”

Once you go below deck, Penguin being the one to wait for you in order to close the door properly, he starts to show you around a bit, the rest of the crew happy to see you’re staying with them for now, while Law keeps a slight distance unless he’s asked about something. You looking around and being so impressed by the submarine caused another weird feeling in his chest, and he fights to ignore it, especially when you thank him for letting you stay with a smile, which he waves off with an “It’s nothing”.

It's going to be an interesting two years.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #where you belong #fem!reader

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floshav · 1 year ago

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part 2 to my last rodrick fic which u can read here !

part 3 out now !

summary: Rodrick proves his likeness for y/n through a spontaneous kiss leaving her smitten and dazed. However, thoughts of Heather still lingered in her mind, constantly being reminded of the blonde girl whenever she passed by. "Does Rodrick still like her?" "Does he even like me?" What happens when Heather suddenly takes interest in Rodrick after ignoring him for years just because she can't let y/n get what she wants.

wc: 2k plus

warnings: allusions to smut, heavy make out

2 weeks later...

the kiss, no not just the kiss but the two kisses rodrick and y/n shared that night resulted in their relationship. She had been left smitten and the feeling was one of those that even if you wanted to forget, you couldn't. The heart racing, blush inducing feeling of getting kissed on by rodrick the boy she'd been crushing on for years, with his rough boy lips which still managed to be soft and plush because well, he was Rodrick after all.

It was now a plain old Monday and she was lost daydreaming in her Calculus class, or was it english? She couldn't bother to take notice.

"Alright, take out your calculators and flip to page 56. We'll be grinding through the workbook today class!" Ms. Smith yelled whilst her big buggy glasses fell down the tip of her nose bridge, stopped by her finger which shoved them back in place. Y/n couldn't care less. Her mind was swarmed with what happened 2 weeks ago.

His lips grazed hers one more time, this time softer and one might say more lovingly if she was in a state of delirium. She felt his slender hand creep up the side of her hip brushing it against her shirt so so gently. He broke off the kiss and his face was so close to hers she felt as if she might faint right then and there. The boy who was rough, impatient and borderline rude crumbled in-front of her. She'd never seen Rodrick like this before. Each freckle, each fine line, each perfect imperfection visible to her now. She'd imagined this image thousands of times before, but never had she imagined it to come true. Rodrick hesitated before saying his next words "I- I really like you y/n. And- and i just want to set that clear before you try showing up to my house drunk silly again. You were being so wreck less you know that?" He chuckled dorky-ly ever so slightly which made her heart pound just a little harder. Her heart fluttered at how he cared for her.

"M'sorry I-i just, m'just so jealous." She slurred as her eyes began to tear up with a mix of happiness, jealousy, anger and most of all, sadness. "Why? You know i'm here for you and you only, stupid." Rodrick whispered so softly against her lips but y/n's mind swarmed with confusion. "B-but you always *hiccup* talk about Heather." She sighed as she let herself fall into her hands. "Makes it *hiccup* hard to believe" She said again. "I-" He moves further back and a familiar ache rises to her chest, one of abandonment. "She was just someone I was infatuated in. Nothing more. Fuck. If i really liked her, would i have kissed you back? Let alone kiss you again?" He said making eye contact this time. He looked absolutely illegal. The way his hair was his usual mess, his blown out eyeliner smudged beneath his fox eyes. His puffy lips. Everything about him made her feel unreasonably hot in the cool weather. "S-so no more feelings for her?" "No. no more." he said so seriously it made her scared. "In fact, she's an asshole and i don't want any part of her in my life." He said whilst memories of what Heather did earlier fled his mind. Rodrick plants a kiss at the corner of y/n's lips and this time she knows it was meant lovingly. Still, at the back of her mind, the one aching question lingered, didn't he say he loved her?

"Y/n?" "Ms y/n?" She blinked and the memory was interrupted by an annoying voice. "Do you care to open your workbook? Or do you intend on staring at the cover for the next hour?" Ms Smith's breath tickled the hairs on the back of her neck waking her from her daydreams of what happened that hazy night.

"Yea, sorry ms smith." She smiled tightly before flipping to page 66 or 57 the page number was was a blur to her, but an open book would do.

He planted a soft kiss at the crook of her neck.

suddenly her mind wandered to what happened later that night.

Hand riding up under her shirt. "is this okay?" His voice was earnest and soft against the skin of her neck.

her thighs clenched together unintentionally and she felt ashamed for imaging such lewd things. She'd been daydreaming about that night for the past few weeks. Each week making her crave for more until she felt sick. Rodrick hadn't made a move like that on her ever since, and she was just too shy to even ask so images in her mind would do for now.

He unclasped her bra in one swift motion and it made her question if he'd done this before, with... Heather? No, can't be, she doesn't even care for him. Right?

The kissing started to turn into making out and y/n felt his breathing falter when she brushed her pinky against his crotch by accident.

"Fuck do you even know what you're doing right now-"

"Ms. y/l/n!" Just as quickly as it started, her daydreaming had come to a halt.

"I've been calling your name for the past 5 minutes. Care to share your answer to the whole class? I assume you didn't even hear the question number i gave you. Number 5! Now." Ms. Smith tried to hush her yelling down to be more precarious.

"Sorry Ms." Y/n sighed before making her way to the black board with a dumb empty mind filled with Rodrick.

------------------

The same could be said about Rodrick. His usual sleepiness that was met with classes vanished ever since that night. Instead of sleeping, he was putting his pretty dumb brain to use by thinking. Thinking about y/n. Every night, everyday, every moment. He'd be lying if he said that she was the only girl he'd ever gained feelings for, because Heather Hills did exist. But it was true when he said he didn't like her anymore.

"Mmm- Aaah- R-rodrick p-please not my neck."

"Shhh, just one more kiss y/n, please."

"F-fuck!"

"FUCK FUCK FUCK FUC-"

Before Rodrick's dream could get any steamier he was awoken to the sound of Heather cursing just beside him, clearly to get someone's attention.

"FUCK! how am i going to do this!!!" Heathers voice was painfully exaggerated and Rodrick couldn't help but cringe. Was this the girl he was smitten by before?

"Oh- Hey Roddy!" Heather smirked as she twisted her body to face him.

Rodrick's head was rested on his arm and he couldn't help but look at her with dead eyes, clearly annoyed.

"You.... you play the drums right?"

"Mmm" Rodrick groaned as he scratched his temple, he was surprised at how much he didn't care for THE Heathers presence anymore.

"Was wondering if.... You'd wanna play a gig at my birthday party?"

Rodrick's eyes lit up. A gig? That was a once in a blue moon occasion to rodrick's ears. But reality struck him when he remembered it was Heather who was asking.

"Mmm sorry Heather, don't think i can." Though it ached him to decline the gig, he knew you wouldn't like it so he sucked it up. Rodrick felt a sense of pride when he realised he didn't stumble over his words around her anymore.

"Awwww but why! I'll pay you 50 bucks an hour, and you know my parties last long." She feigned a girly voice as she batted her long eyelashes which icked Rodrick out.

50 bucks an hour..... The offer was tempting but, you were even more tempting.

Before Rodrick could answer, you walked in the class with a goofy smile, ready to see your Rodrick with..... Heather.

Heather shot back daggers through a fake soft smile. The type she'd give to a teacher after almost being caught doing something.

"Oh... Hello there y/n! Sorry, Rodrick was just telling me about how he'd love to play drums at my party. Isn't that right Rodrick?"

"Wh- No?" Rodrick scoffed out, eyes squinting at the mischievous blue eyed blonde.

"Oh c'mon, don't lie to y/n just because you pity her! You're a man! Act like one." Heather said as she got up from her chair slightly agitated at the fact Rodrick didn't play along.

"See you there Roddy." Heather said before smirking and popping out her ass dramatically.

roddy... That nickname made y/n's blood boil and she never wanted to hear it again.

"I swear! I-I did not agree to any of the shit she just yapped about." Rodrick panicked whilst stumbling over his words like a nervous teenager, that familiar feeling rising again but this time towards y/n.

"Hard to believe Rodrick. Or should i say Roddy... God! i shouldnt have been so naive. I'm so stupid! I thought you were over her." Y/n lashed out before storming out the classroom in a hurry, not thinking straight.

"Wait! Fuck. That fucking bitch Heather." Rodrick sighed out as he reached for the class door.

You found yourself slanting against a crusty brick wall beside a half broken vending machine. You don't know why you overreacted so fast without even bothering to hear Rodrick's explanation but maybe it was because you were so stupidly insecure. You quickly fumbled around your pants pockets to find an old packet of ciggs you remembered you left there. There were 2 left so you lit one up and breathed in the pure comfort. It felt nice to not care just for a second with the cigarette around. When it could have gotten more peaceful you heard a set of obnoxious dorky feet approach you.

"Hey." Rodrick said lightly as he squatted down to your eye level, lanky hands hanging by each sides of his knees.

It made you jump a little and your facade of wanting to remain mad slowly revealed itself. You couldn't help but suppress a tight smile from leaking out.

"What" You said as you blew a whiff of smoke away from his face. His heart fluttered at the small gesture.

"I really did not agree to what Heather told you." He said seriously which was a rare look on Rodrick.

"Are you sure? Cuz it seems like you two are getting along just fine" Y/n sighed as she pushed her hair back, Rodrick's heart beat pounding harder by the second.

"Please, believe me I- I really did not agree to anything, I-I really want you to believe me please." Rodrick was pleading which was something she only saw when he was lovesick. At that moment she knew he couldn't harm her emotionally.

"Alright. Fine, I believe you." Y/n said with a tired voice, though deep down she was glad she could read Rodrick like an open book.

"Im so sorry." Rodrick sighs before nuzzling his head in the crook of her neck, still a nervous wreck whenever he handled her.

She releases her cig and reaches in to hug him back tightly and lovingly before breathing in the intoxicating scent of him. Far better than a cig.

Just around the corner was a cheeky little Heather, listening in to every single decibel of the convo. Heather tightly rolled her eyes and scoffed before it turned into a smirk. Something clicked in her head. She knew what she had to do.

She was going to fake it till she made it.

---------------------------

lol i feel like this story deserves a pt3 so if this does well i will continue it! I know this has been a long times worth of progress but i've been procrastinating writing like crazy lately and i've only started getting back into it. Anyway please do request because i'm always bored and free !

#rodrick fanfiction #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley fanfiction #rodrick imagines #rodrick smut #smut #rodrick #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick fanfic #rodrick heffley #rodrick x reader #rodrick rules #rodrick x y/n #not my rodrick

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dailynnt · 24 days ago

Text

FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE

Summary: What happens when two best friends try to get along under the same roof? You've been living with Jungkook for three months now, but your cohabitation is still a challenge for you. He continues to live like a real bachelor without following the rules you agreed upon from the beginning of your decision to live together. Should you find a compromise or should you find a new place to live?

Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hosuk.

🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

📕 Number of part: 15/?

🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words. Tags will be added as the story is written.

👩🏼‍💻 From the author: I can't believe I wrote the second part. I am so happy with how it turned out. I hope you will also enjoy it and look forward to the sequel. I will try to write it as soon as possible. I tried to create tension between Y/N and Jungkook. In part three, you'll find something very hot, so stay tuned for part three. Thanks to everyone who liked my story, I will do my best for you.

⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

→ Part 1 → Part 2 → Part 3 → Part 4 → Part 5 → Part 6 → Part 7 → Part 8 → Part 9 → Part 10 → Part 11 → Part 12 → Part 13 → Part 14 → Part 15

Part 2. In theory

Today was a day off. Sunday. The one and only day when you could devote it entirely to yourself and not to your studies. Even though exams were about to start before the New Year holidays, you still recognized that you needed to rest, otherwise you might go crazy. This day could have started better if not for the morning's fight with Jungkook. And that's why you feel uncomfortable. You seem to have resolved everything and he has apologized, but there is some unpleasant residue. The emotions that you've been holding in for so long have left behind this very residue.

It wasn't just the quarrel you had this morning that made you feel uncomfortable. Jungkook. That's who was really making you feel as if you were detached from reality. His "question" about your love life kept repeating in your head.

Why did he suddenly want to know? Did you behave in such a way that he wanted to ask you about it? You had conversations on this topic, but it turned out that most often it was when you got together with a large group of your friends. One of them would start, and the evening would turn into a discussion of sexual achievements. Not infrequently, when you were drinking with Jungkook, he would also start such conversations, but you tried to avoid them.

But the truth is this. You only want to know one thing: why did he want to know if you had sex? What business is it of his?

You beat your fists on the bed. This question was tearing at your brain. Why are you lying here thinking about this? Don't you have anything better to do?!

You heard the sound of the combination lock. Jungkook had returned from the store. Your heart beat faster and felt like stomach was being stirred with a spoon. You sat on the bed and stared at the front door of your bedroom.

You need to calm down. You need to act normal. This is Jungkook, your best friend. You've known him for so long, so why would you have any problems with him now? You stood up and clenched your fists. "I'm going to make it through this. Nothing strange has happened. I'll treat my friend like I always do!" You straightened your hoodie, pulled up the sweatpants you loved to wear at home, and confidently opened the door to the living room.

Jungkook was on the doorstep, taking off his shoes. His black jacket was already hanging on the nightstand at the entrance. Two large bags of groceries were standing next to him. Noticing the white containers, you concluded that he had bought ready-made food. That's why he was gone for so long.

Your best friend noticed you. When your eyes met, you felt a twinge inside. And you literally lost to yourself. Your heart started pounding again, and your breathing became rapid, but you tried to hold on. In a split second, you ran your eyes over his figure, and you liked what you saw in front of you very much. Jungkook was dressed in all black. He liked to dress like that, 90% of his wardrobe was black. The other 10% were white clothes. For some reason, he did not wear colored clothes. The black Calvin Klein hoodie fit him perfectly. His pants were the same color with many pockets. His hair was slightly disheveled, probably because he was wearing a hood.

Jungkook picked up the bags and smiled broadly. "I decided it would take too long to cook, and we were already hungry. So I bought some ready-to-eat food." - He rustled the bags. You smiled awkwardly. Mentally scolding yourself for acting like a fool, you walked towards Jungkook, who had already come to the table and started to open up the containers of food.

"You're such a smart boy for thinking of that, because I'm really hungry." - You said as you helped Jungkook take out and open the lunchboxes.

"But you had breakfast!" - Your friend protested. "You fried some eggs for yourself and didn't even leave me a piece!"

"Two eggs without anything is not breakfast. Consider it as if I didn't eat anything. And I didn't fry them for you because you thought deserve them?" - You jabbed your finger at him. Jungkook giggled.

"I really didn't deserve breakfast this morning. But to make it up to you, I bought something for you." - Jungkook said. You looked at him. He was taking something out of the bottom of the bag. And as soon as the craft rectangular box appeared, you squealed with happiness.

"Donuts!" - You squeaked. You had no idea that Jungkook would buy your favorite hazelnut and chocolate-filled donuts. You loved all the donuts in the world, but these were your favorite.

You threw your arms around Jungkook and hugged him. And you kept squealing with joy. Donuts were the only thing that made you feel good, and your friend knew it. So it couldn't have been better. Jungkook hugged you around the waist with one arm, laughing, and tried to hold the box of dessert in the other.

"Thank you!" - You were still squeaking over Jungkook's ear. You probably would have hugged your friend for another 5 minutes and mocked his eardrums, but at that moment Jungkook's phone rang. You had to let him go. Handing you a box of donuts, your friend picked up the phone.

"Hello!" - Jungkook said. He went to the sink, and you continued to set the table.

You opened all the boxes and looked forward to finally having a good meal. Jungkook bought pork jangmyeon, kimchi, pickled radish, five packages of cooked rice (Jungkook eats a lot of rice for lunch), your favorite pulgogi, pocheeji (tofu stew), and stewed vegetables. You were almost salivating at the sight and smell of the food. You walked over to the chopstick stand and heard Jungkook talking.

"...Nothing special. I don't think I even asked her name." - You realized who Jungkook was talking about and with whom he was talking. It was Jimin, and conversation was about this morning girl who you had seen in the morning. You looked up at Jungkook. You had to nudge him to the side to get the chopsticks.

"I drunk but remember all. It was good, I don't think I'll call her again." - The irritation reappeared. But why would you care what Jungkook is talking about? But your mood disappeared easily. You were annoyed that he was talking with Jimin about the this morning girl. The image of her in your head made you think back to the fight, which made you feel uncomfortable. "How annoying... let him start telling him in detail about what they were doing there!" - You were angry. Why do he have to discuss it so loudly? You feel like you're eavesdropping, but he's talking so loudly that you have to be deaf not to hear.

You sat down at the table and started eating without waiting for Jungkook. Your movements were sudden and loud. Jungkook noticed that you started eating without him and smiled slyly. Your sudden, irritated movements could not escape his eyes.

"But you know what, Hyung? I haven't had a blowjob this good in a long time." - You spat out the pulgogi you had put in your mouth a moment before. You coughed, covering your mouth with your hand so that you couldn't be heard.

Jimin didn't know you were living with Jungkook, no one did. You were the one who asked don’t to tell anyone. You explained that you might be misunderstood, because everyone already suspected you were dating. But this did not happen. Even though you spent most of your time with Jungkook, it didn't mean that you were dating. You were just really good friends. Like soul mates. Although, considering the last three months, you were like sworn enemies.

Jungkook walked over to you and lightly patted you on the back while he continued to talk on the phone.

"I can give you her number if you want." - You heard your friend's voice somewhere above your head. He sounded like he was smiling. You wanted to strangle him. How can you say such things when a person is eating? You looked up at him. He was standing over you, smiling slyly. Jungkook was no longer pounding you, but stroking you. You beat his hand away and gestured that he was a fool and needed to end the conversation because the food goes cold.

"Anything. I was going to have lunch and bought some food." - A big sly smile graced Jungkook's lips. He sat down next to you and grabbed the metal chopsticks. Your eyes were completely focused on the lunch dishes, but with your peripheral vision you saw what your friend was doing. He was opening his portion of rice and still listening to what Jimin was saying to him.

"Tonight? I'm free..." - Jungkook answered. You looked up at him with anger eyes and encounter with two black buttons. "Ahh, I mean I'm free, but I promised Y/N I'd eat samgyopsal with her. We haven't seen each other for a long time, and she's going crazy because of the exams..." - Your friend made up a lie on the spot. You raised one eyebrow in surprise and question. Would he really refuse to meet Jimin? You love Jimin, he's also your friend, but whenever Jungkook is "free in the evening" like this and Jimin calls him, it always ends the same way. Jungkook is either gone for a day or he brings someone home. Jungkook probably feels guilty and, taking into account his words about following the rules, decided to lie. The guy sitting next to him nodded his head with a sweet look on his face, confirming to you that he wasn't going anywhere with Jimin. You lost interest and went back to your plate.

"If you want to join us, I won't mind. After all, we've been wanting to eat samgyopsal with you for a long time. But you need to text Y/N. She needs to know you're coming too. She's been very nervous lately." - You heard that irritating smart guy. His side was instantly hurt by your punch.

"I'm not a nervous, fool!" - You said with one lip. Jungkook could hardly contain his laughter. He talked to Jimin for another minute and finally said goodbye. You didn't say anything, although at first you thought about killing Jungkook as soon as he hung up, but you changed your mind. It's better to restrain yourself. God, why are you so angry with this guy lately? Has he really always had such a big mouth?

The only sound in the kitchen was the sound of metal chopsticks hitting a plate. When Jungkook finished talking on the phone, several minutes had passed. And all this time you were eating in silence. Each of you was thinking about something different. For example, you were wondering why Jungkook hadn't spoken to you yet. Why he didn't ask you if you liked the food, or why you were angry, or if you wanted to go to a restaurant tonight and have samgyopsal with Jimin. God, what's wrong with you? You're ready to go off like a bomb. How soon is your period due? Maybe you're so angry because your period is coming up.

"How's the food, baby?" - Jungkook finally broke the silence. You took your time answering. He surprises you sometimes. How he knows what you want him to do. He almost always does exactly what you think. You've known him for so long that you can just guess what he's going to do?

"It's good." - You said, finishing the radish. You tried to keep your tone calm, but it came out too dry. Jungkook smiled, surprisingly. You heard him sigh.

"You wanted to eat samgyopsal, so I thought we'd go to a restaurant not far from here tonight. That's why I made up this story for Jimin..." - Your friend said. But to you, it sounded like an excuse. He said it after you gave him a look full of lightning.

"Really? For some reason, I thought that when you told Jimin you were free, you wanted to continue yesterday's fun!" - You said in a sarcastically sweet voice.

"No, I didn't. I really wanted to invite you to eat out." - Jungkook said seriously. "But if you don't want to..."

"I do. I need a drink." - You said, getting up from the table.

"You've already eaten?" - Jungkook was surprised. You grabbed a box of donuts to eat alone in your room. Jungkook had bought them for you and you didn't want to share them.

"Yeah, you talked on the phone too long. I'm already full. What time should we go?" - You asked.

"I don't know, what time do you get hungry?"

"Okay. I'll tell you when I'm hungry. Thanks for lunch." - You turned on your feet and walked toward your bedroom.

***

You spent almost the whole day in your room. After lunch, Jungkook went out without telling you when he would be back. You only knew he had left when the door slammed shut. Trying not to think about what business Jungkook could have gone on, you turned on a drama to distract yourself from the annoying thoughts of your friend and your constantly irritating attitude towards him. You didn't get to watch the drama properly. First, you got a call from Suyong, a friend from the university. Then you called your parents and talked to your mom on the phone for almost two hours. It had been a long time since you had talked to her for that long. Given your busy study schedule, conversations with your parents were usually late at night and it was literally to find out if you were okay.

After talking to your mom, you received a text message from Jimin inviting you and Taehyung to join you with Jungkook for grilled pork and soju tonight. You agreed, saying that you missed the guys and that you'd love to spend the evening with them. You really needed to dilute the company of Jungkook, who had been annoying you lately.

Finally, when you finished texting Jimin, you could devote yourself to watching a drama.

The drama turned out to be so interesting that you didn't notice how you watched 6 episodes at a time and it was getting dark outside. You felt very hungry, because your last meal was well past lunchtime.

You went out to the living room to look for Jungkook. He must have come back when you didn't hear him, but the light was off. You noticed that Jungkook's jacket, boots, and bike helmet were missing. It's so late, almost eight o'clock in the evening. Where could he be for so long? Maybe he was called to work because of something urgent?

You didn't know where Jungkook worked. The only thing you knew was that it had something to do with security. He was some kind of manager or something. You repeatedly tried to ask Jungkook where he worked, but he was skillful at avoiding answering.

You went back to your room to call your friend and tell him you were hungry. A few long rings and he picked up the phone.

"Hello!" - Jungkook said.

"Hello. Where are you?" - You asked.

"I went away for work. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I had an emergency." - Jungkook's voice was quiet in the background.

"Mmm. I'm already hungry." - You said. "You promised we'd go to a restaurant."

"Yeah. How long until you're ready?" - You heard Jungkook walk outside. The sound of the road and the wind reached your ear.

"Are you coming to pick me up?" - You asked hopefully.

"If you want." - Jungkook said gently. You didn't think for a second. You answered immediately.

"I want to. I'll be ready in about 30 minutes."

"I'll be there in exactly half an hour. I'll call Jimin and have him come too." - You heard the sound of Jungkook's bike engine.

"Taehyung will be here too." - You said as you went to the shower.

"Great. It'll be more fun!" - Said your friend. "I'll be there soon. Get ready." - You gave a short "Okay" and ran to take a shower.

After quick showers you washed face and put on light makeup. If it were just you and Jungkook, you wouldn't have done this. You're used to not wearing makeup around him. But Jimin and Taehyung are the kind of people who shouldn't see you without makeup. You can't really trust them. In December, you wore a warm beige sweatshirt and jeans to keep warm on motorcycle. It might have been warm in the restaurant, but you don't want to freeze to death while Jungkook is riding his bike. So a warm puffy jacket is perfect. You were just putting on your hat when Jungkook called. He told you that he was waiting for you.

You arrived at a restaurant that was a block away from your house. It was a cozy place that was always crowded. Jungkook parked his bike and you went inside together. To your surprise, Jimin and Taehyung were already there, grilling pork. When they saw you, they waved their hands energetically to invite you to the table.

"Hi guys!" - You greeted your friends, taking turns hugging them. Jungkook shook his hands and helped you undress. There was a hanger near each table. You sat down at the table and felt the smell of roasting meat warming your appetite to the max. Jungkook sat down next to you.

"How are you? Did you come together?" - Jimin spoke to you. You followed his movements and the way the pork was being cooked, fascinated.

"I picked up Y/N on the way to the restaurant." - Jungkook said as he stuffed his mouth with rice and kimchi. You decided to wait until the meat was ready and then start eating.

"Taehyung, pour me some soju." - You asked him gently, noticing the four bottles on the edge of the table. He smiled kindly and grabbed the bottle closest to him.

"Don't drink on an empty stomach. I'm not going to carry you home on my shoulders." - Jungkook said, still chewing on something. He waved his hand at the shot glass you were holding in your hand and you saw that his knuckles were knocked off. You abruptly put the stack down on the table before Taehyung could finish, causing some soju to spill onto the table. You turned to Jungkook, grabbing his injured arm.

"What happened to your hand?" - You asked with horror in your voice. Jimin and Taehyung looked at you, puzzled. Jungkook wanted to pull his hand out, but you were holding it tightly. Jungkook carefully hid his other hand.

"Hey, did you fight with someone? Let me see your left hand!" - You demanded. Jungkook used a little more force and this time pulled his arm out. You looked at your friend in displeasure. Jungkook looked at you, and then at his friends, who were also looking at him.

"It's nothing. I just fell off my bike." - Jungkook replied, ignoring his friends' looks and continuing to eat. Jimin and Taehyung lost interest as well, the former continuing to grill the meat and the latter starting to eat as well.

"How did you fall off the bike?" - You asked. Of course you didn't believe him. How can you fall so hard that you hurt your knuckles? Or is it possible?

"Simple, I didn't calculate the rise when I parked. I forgot to put on gloves, so I bruised my hands." - Your friend explained indifferently. You continued to look at the wounds on his hand with suspicion. Jimin had already finished grilling some of the meat and put it on your plate first, followed by the rest to everyone else . You didn't notice because you were too busy worrying about Jungkook. He continued to ignore you and stuff his stomach. You sniffled, went back to your plate, and started eating. Why do you care so much if he doesn't care? You hadn't seen Jimin and Taehyung in a long time, so you decided that you would pay more attention to those two and your wonderful dinner.

The friendly get-together was a great decision for you. Jimin and Taehyung were perfect for a casual conversation on a Sunday night. You had fun, delicious food, and warmth. For some reason, Jungkook, who was sitting next to you, hardly participated in your conversations. You found out that Jimin had been promoted last week, and Taehyung told you how he lost a bet with a friend in the military (Taehyung was in the military special forces) and had to do some hellish set of exercises. He also said what it was called, but you didn't remember because you were already a little drunk. What's the point of making excuses, even sober you couldn't remember the name of this exercises. You encouraged your friend, telling him that he would become even cooler and stronger than he was before after the bet. Taehyung almost went to kiss you for that compliment.

Sometimes, when you looked in Jungkook's direction, you noticed that he was constantly texting with someone. And a few times he even went to talk on the phone, although he lied about taking a smoke break. Jungkook did smoke. Although it didn't fit in with his lifestyle and sports, which he was obsessed with, but yes, he smoked. Once in a conversation, he shared that smoking helps him calm his nerves. Don’t good reason, if ask you. There are many other ways to calm your nerves. But if smoking is the only thing that helps Jungkook, what can you do?

In the afternoon, Jungkook was gone all day. He said he had an urgent call to work. Could his distant behavior have something to do with it?

Jungkook returned after another smoke break. When he sat down next to you, you caught the smell of cigarettes and his perfume. It wasn't a good combination, but you liked it. You turned your head to the black-haired guy who was your best friend and roommate. He picked up a shot of soju and drank it in one gulp without even a wince.

You were shocked when he suddenly started drinking after a while of sitting there. Although he didn't mean to at first. He was driving and it was logical. When you protested who would take you home, he said "taxi". You stopped worrying. It's not far anyway, you can walk at least.

Jimin and Taehyung left the table, one to go to the restroom and the other goes to order more appetizers and soju.

In a short moment, Jungkook drank another shot of alcohol. What caught your attention were his bruised knuckles. Some of them were just red, even blue, and the first three were bruised to the point of blood. This was evidenced by the healing wounds covered with a blood crust.

"They should have at least put band-aids on them or something." - Suddenly you said, drawing Jungkook's attention. He gave you a look.

"No need for that." - He smiled. You rolled your eyes.

"Of course, we're so cool. There can't be any infection or contamination at all. You fell on the road. Is asphalt ever sterile?" - You answered sarcastically.

Jungkook smiled, his smile seemed sly. He leaned in and whispered almost in your ear.

"You care about me that much?" - A wave of heat rushed through your body. Your alcohol-red cheeks flushed even more. Your heart started to race. That self-assured, sly smile on his handsome face again.

"Get over yourself, Jeon. I'm just saying the obvious. If you've hurd, you need to take care of yourself." - You said calmly. But if Jungkook could hear your heart beating so fast it could jump out of your chest, you were doomed to fail. Jungkook laughed again, confidently, still too close to you. How he loved this kind of talk. Teasing you was probably his favorite thing to do.

"I’d rather when someone cares about me." - Now it was your turn to laugh. That's what you did when he said. "When we get home, will you take care of me?" - Jungkook whispered in your ear. His breath was hot, and his whisper set your insides on fire. You couldn't give up so easily. He was teasing you and you knew it. This thing was that manner of his, probably the same way he traps the girls who fall into his bed. Ahhh that fox! But you rarely lost in such cases.

"You want me to take care of you, of course I could, but on a condition." - You joked. Jungkook raised his left eyebrow with interest, while playing with a lock of your hair.

"What condition?" - You heard his playful tone.

"You will do me good." - You answered. Jungkook froze, and the curl he was playing with slipped from his finger. "I win," you thought, laughing with difficulty.

Jungkook probably wanted to answer, but his friends came to the table at the same time.

"Just look at them!" - Taehyun said to Jimin with indignation. "And then they say they're not dating. They're openly flirting with each other!" - You straightened up sharply and tried to pull away from Jungkook. Your best friend also returned to his previous position, folding his arms on the table.

"Really. Perhaps you two confess to us at the end. Who is this hypocrisy for?" - Jimin said as he poured soju for everyone. You were outraged. Again, these talks about relationships. Especially from Jimin, who knows that Jungkook fucked another girl this night. If he was in a relationship with you, how could he do that?

"Hey guys, come on!" - You started to get angry. "We've discussed this topic a thousand times. We are not in a relationship. It's never going to happen." - You knocked over a stack of soju Jungkook waiting for anyone to respond. Jungkook looked at you, struck by how harshly you said it.

"Living with him is a nightmare, what kind of relationship you talking about?" - You blurted out. The table became quiet. Everyone was looking at you, trying to understand what you had just said. Jungkook tried to hold back his laughter. You were gave yourself away.

Panic filled your thoughts. But you had to act quickly, given the looks on Taehyung and Jimin's faces. You threw a quick glance at Jungkook, who was almost laughing.

"Do you live together?" - Taehyung asked, squinting his eyes.

"No." - You answered too quickly. "I mean, he's impossible to stand in life, we argue all the time, how would I date him?" - You justified yourself.

"We argue because you're always unhappy about something." - Jungkook suddenly spoke up. He sounded irritated.

"I'm unhappy about something?!" - You punched Jungkook in the ribs. "You're the one who's always acting like a piece of idiot!"

"Okay, okay, calm down." - Jimin tried to calm the two of you down. "Otherwise, people are all staring at us." - You turned away from Jungkook. This guy really annoys you.

"Let's talk about this specifically." - Taehyung began to think out loud. "You've been best friends for a long time. Ever since high school. You went to taekwondo school together. You spend a lot of time together. Have you ever thought about dating?"

"No!" - You and Jungkook said in unison.

"Well, don't you attract Jungkook’s appearance? He was very popular in school and college." - Jimin joined the conversation. You chewed your meat and answered indifferently.

"I know and I've never denied that Jungkook is handsome, but dealing with his character is a mission impossible." - You said. Jungkook started to complain again, exclaiming "what the hell is wrong with my character?!" as Jimin ordered him to be quiet and continued his interrogation.

"You mean you admit that you like him... Appearance!" - Your friend clarified.

"Well, yes. But I don't look at his looks..." - You said. "You know It's like when you eat chocolate every day and it gets tried and you just stop enjoying it, even though it tastes the same. Besides, I always had only one problem with those girls of his. And it continues to this day." - You finally finished. All three guys were puzzled.

"How about you. What do you think Jungkook? Do you like Y/N’s looks then?" - Taehyung asked. Jungkook clicked his tongue.

"What are you guys, matchmakers? Stop asking stupid questions."

"Hey, have you lost your mind? I answered so you answer too!" - You snapped, glaring at your friend.

"So you want to know if I like you, baby?" - Jungkook purred. He was amused that it was you who insisted on answering. You blushed. Him calling you "baby" in front of everyone didn't make it any easier for you.

"I swear, Jeon, I'm going to kill you tonight." - You were seriously angry. And for Jungkook, there was nothing more amusing than your expression right now. He took another drink, keeping the three of you waiting.

"Y/N is hot. And her looks are beautiful." - Jungkook finally said. Hearing those words about yourself is like a miracle. Jungkook really thinks you're hot? Oh my God, you were ready to fall apart. "But she's not my type. So we'll never really have anything with her." - It's like a bucket of cold water was dumped on you after his words. You froze, but there it was expected. Yes, you've always known it. You are not his type and he would never like you. So there's nothing to talk about. You were upset, but you couldn't show it. You faked a laugh to support Jungkook's words.

"You see, there's no way we're going to be able to date. I hope this is the end of the matter." - You said.

"Come on!" - Taehyung persisted. "If you were to live together in the same apartment, wouldn't anything happen between you?"

"Do you mean sex?" - Jungkook asked. You almost choked on the rice bun you were eating. Jimin jumped up to you and gently patted you on the back to save your life.

"Yes. In theory." - Taehyung asked with a sly smile.

"I don't know." - Jungkook shrugged. "In theory, it could happen if we lived together." - It was at that moment that you really thought you were going to die.

↰ Previous chapter ● Next chapter ↱

#jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #bts #jungkook x f!reader #jungkook smut #jungkook friends with benefits #jungkook #bts mafia au

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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months ago

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cw: discussion of past parental death due to overdose, mention of drug use

Steve stumbled upon the article when he was helping Robin collect articles for a project for her Industry Studies course.

He didn’t think much of reading about another small time musician getting caught up with the wrong crowd, and overdosing or getting in a drunk driving accident. It seemed like a pretty common theme. It was terrible, sad, horrible, but he’d seen about 30 stories like that in the last two days and he was kind of getting numb to it all.

Until he saw the name Munson.

Until a picture of a woman with long, curly hair and Eddie’s smile stared back at him next to a headline that read: “Kentucky Country Queen Dead at 27.”

He read the article with tears in his eyes.

Elizabeth “El” Munson, a hopeful country singer and guitarist, was found dead in her home by her six year old son, Edward. The boy reportedly tried calling his father at work with no luck before finally calling his uncle, Wayne Munson.

Toxicology reports show that she overdosed on multiple illegal substances. At this time, it is believed to have been accidental and no foul play is suspected.

It has now been made clear that Elizabeth was seeking a divorce from her husband, Al Munson, but had not been successful as lawyers were unable to locate him until her funeral. Their son has been put in the care of Wayne until further notice.

Robin found him 20 minutes later, staring at the page with swollen, red eyes. She took the paper, read the article, and put it back in the files wordlessly.

“I don’t think he wants us to know,” she finally said.

She was probably right.

But Steve had grown pretty close to Eddie over the last six months, had opened up to him about his parents, his fake friends, his concussions and nightmares. Eddie had started opening up to him, too.

He thought he had, anyway.

He told him about how his mom died when he was young and his dad was awful so he moved in with Wayne. He told him about how his dad appeared every couple years looking for money or a place to stay and Wayne always turned him away.

But he never really talked about his mom, always said he barely remembered her.

Did he know what happened?

——

Steve asked Wayne the next morning.

He’d come by to pick Eddie up for a day with the kids, but Eddie hadn’t set his alarm and was still asleep.

Perfect opportunity to find out more.

“So. Eddie’s mom.”

Wayne tensed over his plate of toast and scrambled eggs. He didn’t look up, just took another bite of food.

“Does he know how she died?”

“Do you?”

“Newspaper said overdose,” Steve tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh. “Says Eddie found her.”

“Trauma messes with your memory.”

It was final, a statement that left Steve with more questions, but a certainty that he’d get no answers.

“Yeah.” He gulped. “I’ve heard.”

——

Steve doesn’t bring it up to Eddie for a while.

He figured Wayne’s reaction said a lot about what Eddie knew or would be willing to share.

But they were a little high and alone and Eddie’s hand was warm in his and his filter was broken.

“I’m sorry you had to be the one to find your mom.”

The air around them was thick. The silence was deafening.

“Me too.”

Eddie’s voice was quiet, nothing like his usual playful tone.

Steve immediately wanted to put this conversation in reverse, pretend his curiosity didn’t matter.

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie moved closer to Steve, his arm a constant pressure against Steve’s. His head leaned against Steve’s shoulder.

“Wayne doesn’t know I know how she died. He doesn’t know I know my dad gave her bad drugs, convinced her all the up and coming musicians were doing a new strain of heroin. She’d kicked him out of the house,” Eddie’s breath caught. “She shouldn’t have let him come back that day. I heard them arguing before I left for school. She told him she was finding a manager and recording an album and that she was divorcing him. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew it was bad.”

“Eds, you don’t have to tell me.”

“I know, Stevie. But you know everything else.” Eddie’s face turned until his nose and mouth were pressed against Steve’s arm. “I went to school. Didn’t think about it. Figured my dad would be gone when I got home and might come back in a few days once they cooled off. But when I got home, he was gone and my mom’s bedroom door was closed. And I opened it and there she was.”

Steve turned so he was face to face with Eddie, cupping his jaw and rubbing his thumb along his cheek in encouragement.

“I don’t even know why I tried calling the store first. I didn’t even know if he still worked there. But then I called Wayne and it’s like he just knew.” Eddie’s eyes closed for a moment. “Don’t think he’d ever gotten to our house so quick.”

“Did he know all this?”

“He knew enough. I stayed with him and then my dad gave up his rights. Lied to the counselor about what I knew so Wayne wouldn’t freak. Kept it up for a while,” Eddie let out a small exhale that slightly resembled a laugh. “I read the article about eight years ago. A kid in my class made a joke about me being an orphan because of the drug problem in America as if he even knew what that meant and I decided to see what the newspaper reported.”

“Do you play because of her?” Steve asked.

Eddie blinked back at him.

“I play for a lot of reasons. But I started because of her, yeah,” he whispers. “You’re the first person to ask me that instead of give me that look of pity.”

“I’m sad about how it happened, but giving you pity doesn’t change it. I’d rather hear how it changed you,” Steve whispered back.

They were close, legs intertwined, hands touching bare skin under shirts and on faces and necks.

“It changed everything for me. Wayne packed us up and moved us here as soon as he legally could. Probably for the best. Well,” Eddie gave a small smile. “Definitely for the best. Wouldn’t be here with you if he hadn’t.”

“Do you ever go back?” Steve did his best to ignore the fluttering in his stomach.

“Her birthday every year. She’s got a nice spot near her mom.” Eddie bit his lip. “It’s actually coming up in a couple weeks. Maybe you could come with me?”

“Me? Are you sure?”

Eddie nodded. “If it doesn’t weird you out that I talk to her. I like to give her updates on my life, Wayne’s life, music. Think she’d find it quite funny that I bring the guy I’ve had a crush on for two years.”

It takes a minute for the words to sink in.

“Two years?” Steve’s lips curled up into a smile. “I hope I live up to expectations.”

“I think she’d like you. She’d definitely make fun of me for having a boyfriend who wears polos though.”

“Is that how you’d introduce me?”

“If you’re okay with it.” Eddie leaned his forehead against Steve’s. “I know we haven’t talked about what we-“

Steve pressed his lips to Eddie’s, nearly knocking their noses together painfully in the process.

After the initial shock, they both relaxed into the kiss.

“I’d love to go. As your boyfriend,” Steve said after pulling away for air. “What was her favorite flower?”

“Gardenias. Always wore perfume that smelled like it. Why?”

“Because I have to impress her, right?”

“You realize she’s not gonna actually see or hear you? She’s definitely dead.”

Steve snorted. “I know. But she can still have nice things. Maybe us bringing her nice things in death is a way to apologize for the not nice things she had in life.”

“You’re a pretty incredible boyfriend, sweetheart.” Eddie kissed the tip of his nose. “And you now know more than Wayne, so it’s time for a pinky promise.”

Steve giggled before holding up his pinky. “I swear I won’t tell Wayne anything.”

“And you’ll kiss me whenever I want…”

“That’s a guarantee.”

“And you’ll let me win at Go Fish…”

“Not a chance, Eds.”

Eddie laughed. “Worth a try.”

Steve curled his pinky against Eddie’s. “So do you think she’d like me?”

“Oh. Oh god. She’d love you. You’re exactly who she’d want for me,” Eddie rolled his eyes when Steve flipped his hair back confidently. “And she’d braid your hair every night while you gossiped and sipped tea.”

“And what would you do?”

“Probably just soak it in. Appreciate having her and you around. You’ll just have to gossip with Wayne.”

“Wayne doesn’t strike me as-“

“Oh, he’s got you fooled! He’s a worse gossip than the ladies at the hair salon. Just ask him about the mailbox at the end of the road sometime. Make sure you’ve got an hour to spare.”

“Really?” Steve’s eyes lit up. “Is he home now?”

Eddie pulled Steve forward until he was flush against his front. “No and I have much better plans than gossiping with my uncle.”

“Oh?” Steve’s brow raised.

“It involves my bed and handcuffs. You in?”

“Hopefully you’re in.”

“God, you’re ridiculous. C’mon, now I’m even harder from your stupid flirting,” Eddie sat up and tugged until Steve followed. “Can’t believe this is how my night’s going.”

“Believe it, baby.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #picturing Eddie’s mom as someone similar musically to Wanda Jackson #she was big in her part of Kentucky #might’ve made it even if not for Eddie’s dad #cw: parent death #cw: mention of overdose #cw: mention of drug use #first kiss #getting together #angst with a happy ending #sorry for the sad part #they kissed about it at the end tho

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piracytheorist · 1 month ago

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There's something interesting about how Twilight's secret could be more dangerous to Yor, than Yor's secret could be to him, and how on an immediate level, Twilight knowing about her could be more beneficial to Yor than Yor knowing about him could be for Twilight.

Like, the person Yor feels she has the most ties to is Yuri. But she can't tell him about her real job, even if she finds out about his, because doing so will immediately make him an accomplice. So her keeping that secret is her protecting him, but it causes a rift between them as she can't be truly honest with him.

In contrast, Twilight is already not only going against the country's law, the fact itself that he lives in that country is against that law. There is nothing (so he thinks) tying him to Ostania aside from his missions, and he changes identities all the time.

Which is to say, if Yuri finds out about Yor's real job, he'll become an active criminal by keeping it a secret from the police (his own work) and he doesn't really have the option to leave. But Twilight is already an active criminal, an accusation of accessory to murder would be the least of his worries, and going away and living as someone else is literally his job.

And I think Yor will be relieved, after she's grown to trust Twilight again, that he knows about her and isn't judging her nor posing a threat. It'll be a new kind of relationship she never got to have, of someone who knows the truth about her and is at the same time trusting of her (closest she got to that was Olka, and we saw how close she got with her before Olka had to leave).

But the vice versa will be harder. Yor finding out about Twilight's secret would add to her list of crimes in the same manner, but again she doesn't really have the option to leave. And she lives in a society that will be more suspicious of her.

Like, think about a possible scenario where the police finds out about Yor. They will interrogate Loid, as her husband, and if he lies (which he's much more experienced in) and says he didn't know anything, they're more inclined to believe him because he's a man and he has a biological daughter (according to the papers they have). But the opposite, if they find out about Twilight, they will interrogate Yor as his wife but they'll be less inclined to believe her, because the society is sexist, and Yor's status as Anya's mother will hold no weight because the whole "illegal adoption" thing will be revealed. Plus her marriage to Loid will be annulled, since there is no Loid Forger, so again nothing for Yor to stand on as a credible citizen (aside from Yuri vouching for her to his work).

And I really feel that Twilight won't let himself really feel loved until after all the secrets are out, including Anya's, and probably even longer than that. It won't be easy for him to accept Yor as a friend who knows his secret. Besides, Franky already knows all about his secrets, but you can barely call Twilight's stance with him friendly. (The narrative wants us to see them as friends, but what Twilight believes for himself is a different thing!) He first needs to come to terms with his own emotions, before he can allow himself to feel them.

But Yor doesn't have that problem. She's already accepting her place in the family, already fully sees herself as Anya's mother. It will be much easier for her to accept Twilight as a friend who happens to know her secret.

So, yeah. Yor's secret is less dangerous to him, and it will be easier for her to feel accepted after it's out to him. Twilight's secret has more potential to shake things up, and it'll take him longer to feel accepted after it's out.

(anime only fan here, don't spoil me for the manga)

#Spy x Family #sxf meta #idk how much sense that makes lol #I have very precise thoughts #I just hope I worded them right lmao

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shywhumpauthor · 10 months ago

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You Can’t do This

Cw: kidnapping, restraints, torture, mentioned mouth/eye whump (doesn’t actually happen), non-con touching, knives, threat of asphyxiation/choking

“Wait- wait,” Villain sputtered, the words tripping over their tongue, snagging in the back of their throat. “You can’t- Hero, this is illegal- you can’t do this!”

They twisted their wrists against the restraints that bound them to the chair, flexing their fingers to try to relieve a fraction of the pressure. The movement only pushed the cables deeper into their skin, dragging a hiss from their clenched teeth.

A warm hand wrapped around their neck from behind, turning their exhale into a wheeze as their head was shoved against the back of the chair.

“Since when have you cared much about what’s legal?” Hero responded, amusement adding a drawl to their words. They circled the chair, grip on Villain’s neck adjusting so their palm lay against the villain’s wind pipe, fingers digging into the sensitive skin on the side of their neck. Just enough pressure to fear, for Villain to feel the threat of their airway being crushed, but not enough to cut off their breathing. Not yet.

“He-Hero, this isn’t funny, stop.” Villain grit out, shrinking as far back as the chair would allow. Hero only pressed closer, moving in so their legs were on either side of Villain’s, their ankles bound to the chair legs.

“Was it funny when the roles were reversed? All those nights I spent tied up in your basement, bleeding and cold? Was it funny then?” Hero hissed, their other hand raising to Villain’s face with the speed of a strike. Barely in time, Villain braced themself, only for a warm hand to press against their jaw, fingers brushing over the curve of their cheekbone. The touch was stark against the chill in the air, a misplaced comfort—artificial. Hero’s stroked their thumb below Villain’s eye gently, before coming to a pause with both hands cradling either side of Villain’s face. “Was it?”

“No, no Hero, it wasn’t,” Villain’s voice wavered now, threatening to crack. “You can’t do this, you’re s’posed to be the good guy-”

Hero stepped back suddenly, tearing their hands away from Villain’s face like their skin had turned toxic. Villain tried to ignore the ache that swelled in their chest as the cold air drowned any remnants of the warm touch in moments.

“I guess I am, aren’t I? The ‘good guy’?” Hero repeated, turning their back to Villain. They stepped to the side of the poorly lit room, to something that resembled an old workbench, their body blocking Villain from seeing what they were doing. “I wonder what the press will say about your sudden absence. They’ll publish anything I tell them to, you know? I could feed them some story about you fleeing the city, the country even, and your name would be forgotten in a week.”

Hero turned around, bracing their palms against the workbench and leaning back.

“Everyone always believes the good guy, don’t they?” Hero shook their head. “No one cares about another pesky street criminal, do they? All they care about is Supervillain, the papers would move on from you the next day and you’d be forgotten. You wouldn’t even get one of those ten year follow-ups.”

“Hero, let me go. You can’t do this. You can’t,” Villain twisted their arms against their restraints in one last pitiful attempt to free themself, accomplishing nothing but to make Hero chuckle.

Hero pushed themself forwards, striding closer. It was only then Villain noticed something in their hand, slender and orange—a box cutter, they realized quickly, as the hero closed the distance between them in three steps.

“Tell me exactly what I can and can’t do, Villain? What can’t I do to you?” Their hand twisted in Villain’s hair, shoving their head back against the chair while the other flipped out the blade on the box cutter.

The words died in Villain’s throat. Their lips parted, eyes tracking the blade as Hero lifted it up to their face.

“I can do anything I want to you.” Hero’s eyes stared directly into Villain’s as they placed the blade against their skin, just below their eye. “You should be glad, your eyes look so pretty when you’re scared. Otherwise I would’ve plucked them out by now,” Hero began to move the blade to the side, putting just enough pressure to split a thin line of red below Villain’s eye.

Villain didn’t dare breathe as Hero paused, gritting their teeth against the sting as they felt the blade puncture a bit deeper. A drop of blood rolled down their cheek like a tear.

“I thought about this moment every night in your basement,” Hero muttered, pushing the edge harder into Villain’s flesh as they followed the track of the blood, drawing a half suppressed yelp from Villain as the pain suddenly intensified. “Planning out exactly what I would do to you, how I’d pay you back for everything you’ve done to me.”

Hero accented the last word with a sudden sharp twist, finishing the line to Villain’s jaw before pulling their hand back. Tears burning in the corners of Villain’s eyes, welling faster than Villain could suppress them.

“Ple- please, Hero, you can’t,” Villain’s voice trembled, any thoughts of maintaining their dignity gone with their fear.

Hero’s palm cracked against their bleeding cheek, catching them off guard. Pain like fire burned from the cut, their head snapping to the side with the force of the blow.

“This will be your only warning,” Hero began, their empty hand grabbing Villain by the chin and tugging them back to look at them. “I do not have the same reservations about your voice as I do your eyes. Another word from you, I’ll cut out your tongue and shove it down your throat and it’ll be the only food you get for a month, got it?”

#whump #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #its me coal #coal wrote something #whumpee #whumper #whump prompt #whump prompts #hero whumper #villain whumpee

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waayoutofline · 9 months ago

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MRS.CLAUS AND HER HELPER

PROMPTS: “This is just pointless” and “Fine, I’ll just do it myself then.”

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Tags: Grumpy x Sunshine, fluff, awkward Nat, resident sunshine reader, christmas fun! (yes, I’m aware is actually eastern but idc).

Summary —> Natasha has feelings for you. Feelings that make her feel grumpy whenever you are near. Unfortunately, she has no opportunity to avoid you as she is assigned to a holidays mission with you.

WORD COUNT: 2927

“Miss Y/L/N, you are being requested in the conference room,” Friday announced through the speakers, causing you to halt in your tracks, the dummy of practice finally getting a break. Wiping the sweat off your forehead, you stretched your limbs before grabbing a towel. It’s only been three days since you returned from your last mission, so it catches you off guard to be called in already.

After quickly hitting the showers, you head to the lift, pressing the button while humming. But just as the mechanical doors are about to shut, a hand slips in between. “Hey, sorr-…Oh, it’s you,” a rather dry voice comments.

A smile spreads across your lips in a matter of seconds, your eyes following the figure of Natasha Romanoff slipping almost in resignation. “Good morning, Nat!” you greet her cheerfully.

“Morning,” she grumbles. “Where are you going?”

“Conference room,” her eyes widened, enough for you to connect the dots. “Oh, you too? That’s great! Perhaps they assigned us a new mission.”

Natasha, usually a morning person, grumbled. “Oh, yeah… joy,” she says, her tone lacking enthusiasm.

You might think that the red-headed spy isn’t too fond of you. Most would believe she really didn’t like you. She’s always scoffing, complaining, and even whining when forced to be in the same space as you.

But quite the contrary. She is fond of you. That’s the problem.

These fuzzy feelings did nothing but anger her. She has always been in control. She’s supposed to be. She’s a trained assassin, cold and ruthless. And yet, there’s something about you that makes her nerves betray her.

It’s her secret. Well, she is convinced that it’s a secret. The truth is that the whole team is aware. They know how Natasha Romanoff has a soft spot for the resident sunshine. Tony even has a pool going around for when she is going to actually do something about it.

Not that either two of you are aware of this fact.

You seem to be clueless. Unaware of the way Natasha’s ears turn pink whenever you smile at her. Of how her heart aches when you do as little as laugh, the sound so clear and joyful. Of the way she silently but deadly threatens anyone who dares to even tease you. Once, the team, except Wanda and Natasha, devoured your stash of sweets, not aware that they belonged to you. Unfortunately, that day you were particularly sensitive and a few tears slipped away before you could mutter, “It’s fine, don’t worry.”

And unfortunately for the boys, Natasha’s darkened eyes watched silently as the tears caressed your cheeks. The following events that happened are not to be mentioned. Just know that the next day, they all bought bags and bags of your favorite goods, besides apologizing like crazy. Confused, you accepted everything with a “Thanks?”

You aren’t aware of any of that.

She just disconnects as you happily chat away, talking about how excited you were about the incoming Christmas festivities. Plans about decorating the whole tower and baking cookies and brownies and watching Christmas movies with the team and….The ding sound in the air as Natasha practically throws herself out of the lift. You giggle softly, “Where’s the fire at, Nat?” You tease, walking calmly in different ways to her wide, fast-paced steps. Natasha curses to herself, cheeks blazing. It should be illegal to be this cute at such hours.

“I just don’t want to be late,” she snaps. You shrug, not affected by her harshness. That’s another thing that baffled her. Usually, she intimidates even the senior agents with her direct personality and ironic comments and yet, you never seem to be hesitant or scared at all to approach her. It’s like you are immune to it.

Is she losing her touch? She feels like she is losing her touch.

Her hands go to the handle, opening it before doing a painfully awkward gesture for you to go in first. You smile in gratitude when passing next to her, the familiar scent of vanilla making her hold her breath.

“Y/L/N, Romanoff,” Nick greets, dramatically turning around. You say a cheery hello, Natasha just nods. Let’s get this over with. “I know you both just been on a mission, but we need your assistance on this.”

Natasha feels her stomach drop. Taking a seat, the director gives you both two copies of a report. Skimming through it, Natasha’s eyes widen. “Oh no, absolutely not.”

“I knew she was going to say that,” Tony chimes in.

“Don’t give her more reason to not do it, Tony,” Steve sighs.

“Are we sure it’s them?” You ask dubiously, eyes still on the paper. Fury nods.

“Yes. We have had surveillance on them for the last month, all points that they have they must have their next exchange somewhere in this mall. They are using the upcoming festivities to go more unnoticed.”

Natasha sighs. “So what, are we supposed to go and possibly catch them in broad daylight?” Fury shakes his head.

“Not exactly. We need you two to go undercover, keep a low profile and watch out for more suspicious activity. A few boxes of cargo isn’t enough to take the entire operation down. While we know they maybe are dealers on the area we don’t exactly know if it’s a full on operation. ”

The Russian’s eyebrows furrow. “Why not send an agent then? Have them confirm.”

“This is too delicate. A couple of rookies are less likely to draw attention. I need your eyes, subtlety, and Y/N’s enhanced hearing,” Fury explained.

Natasha sighed in frustration, pushing the folder away. “So, you want us to go into a mall full of late Christmas shoppers and look for suspicious drug trade that you’re not even sure is happening there?” she summarized.

Fury nodded. “Aren’t you perceptive, Agent Romanoff.”

Natasha opened her mouth to protest further, but Fury beat her to it. “Now, how do you two feel about Santa?”

***

“Oh no, absolutely not,” Natasha huffs indignantly. The sounds of the rushing people are muffled by the door, the lights already making Natasha dizzy. You turn your head to look at her over the shoulder.

”Oh. Do you want to be the elf, then? I don’t mind-“ She cuts you off with a grunt.

”No, I don’t want to be anything. This is absolutely ridiculous. Just wait until we return to the tower, Fury is going to hear it.” A laugh escapes you at the scowl on her face. She sends you the mean look, but you don’t even flinch.

“It’s not that bad. Think of it as a Christmas spirit operation.” You try to cheer up, not really finding the zipper of the disguise. A scoff.

“We’ve been following this narcotic clan for months now, all leading us into dead ends. Perhaps we should start to consider the fact that they aren’t even in America anymore. This is just pointless.”

You shrugged your shoulders, putting the green suit on your shoulder and going to the changing room. “Fine, I’ll just do it myself then.” The spy’s arms, which were crossed, almost get out of their place as she grabs your arm. Gentle enough to not hurt, but firm enough to stop you.

You look up at her and she feels like she is about to faint. “What- no. What if they are here—…”

“You just said they may not even be here, so there’s nothing to worry about.” The reassurance doesn’t seem to calm her, but you keep walking away. Your legs are barely out of the storage room when she calls you to stop.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, fine! Fine. Just…” She stops you, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Let’s get this over with.” You clap in excitement and face lighting like a christmas tree, spinning happily. A satisfied grin on your face that she doesn’t get to see. “Great! See you in five minutes, Mrs. Claus!” You sing as you finally exit. Natasha almost hits her head on the wall at how easily she just gave in.

She has definitely lost her touch.

***

“Mommy, why is Mrs. Claus looking so grumpy?” a little kid asks her mom as they pass by, the woman giving you two a disapproving look. You nudge Natasha’s side with your elbow.

“Yeah, Mrs. Claus… light it up a little, will you?” You mutter with a tight smile. “And also, don’t sit like that.” Natasha huffs, but changes position on the tall, red velvet-covered chair.

“Shut it, elf, or I’ll have you sent to the North Pole in no time,” she answers snarkily, but you were too distracted relocating the wall of fake gift boxes to have a better view.

Still, you look at her with an eyebrow raised. “What was that?”

A gulp. “Nothing.”

For as sweet as you were, you did know how to throw a mean glare. Was Natasha into it? Absolutely not.

“That’s what I thought.” The cheers of children echo, Natasha’s face paling as they all line up. Before she can say something about it, you put a hand on her shoulder. “Now, smile bright and be nice to the kids.”

”Bet you wouldn’t be so happy about having small people sit on your lap.” Faking a pout, you bend slightly to look her in the eyes.

”Aw, does that mean I won’t have a turn later?” You tease. And suddenly, all the remarks that the redhead had disappeared into thin air, never to be found again. You giggle. “Careful, your face is matching with your disguise.”

She is still sputtering indignantly by the time you redirect your attention to the crowd, a big bright grin on your face. The fact that she finds you cute even in the ridiculous elf suit you’re wearing speaks volumes.

“Merry Christmas everyone!” You greet happily, dramatically doing a reverence. “See, Santa has got a bit too many sweets before going to sleep situation.” Everyone cheers sadly. “But lucky for us, someone came all the way here all the way form the North Pole to save the day, give a big applause everyone for…Mrs.Claus!” Everyone claps excitedly as Natasha does a big, strained smile and salutes everyone to the public. The children (and even the parents) cheer loudly.

“Marry christmas. Who is ready to sit on my lap?” Natasha asks in exaggerated happiness, flushing some more when you give her a sneaky wink. What did she do to deserve this?

***

Ten or so children go by, all asking for their gifts. You want to think that everything is going well so far, no sign of any undercover trafficking, and everyone seems to be having a great time. Even Natasha.

“What do you want, kiddo?” The little boy grins toothlessly.

“I want a pink pony with fire breath and Pegasus wings!” The redhead hesitates.

“Well, those are rare… Anything else that you want?” The kid stops and thinks for a bit.

“Mmm, oh yeah! I want for mom and dad to bring their adult friends home instead of hiding them from each other. That way we can have a party!” Natasha’s eyes widened, choking on air. Your hand flies to your mouth in surprise as Natasha looks at you in panic. You send her a look that screams “You better fix this.”

“A pink flying, fire-breathing pony it is then!”

Besides that one, of course.

As fewer and fewer kids are in the waiting line, you feel yourself relax. If anything were to happen, at least there won’t be people who will get hurt. Natasha stretches lightly on the chair. When looking at the next kid, a little smile appears on her face. “Would you look at that? You look exactly like a smaller version of someone I know,” she mentions as she pulls the kid onto her lap.

The girl smiles, and you get an idea of who she reminded her of. “Really? From the North Pole? Is she magical?” Natasha makes an exaggerated thinking face while you scoff lightly.

“Well, she is a little bit of a troublemaker at times…” Natasha says dramatically, making the girl laugh. “But yeah… you could very well say she is magical.” Her voice is soft, sincere. You can’t help but blush a little.

***

“Ugh, I’m sweating. Why is this thing so hot?” Natasha complained as you two walked side by side, finally being able to catch a break. You nodded absentmindedly, your eyes wandering until you suddenly froze. Still wrestling with the disguise, Natasha didn’t notice. “I’m suffocating. This can’t be legal…”

“Natasha,” a couple of men scurried into a door next to the bathroom stalls. You recognized the characteristic tattoo of a crossed couple of spears on their necks until they both disappeared.

“It has way too many zippers and—” You hit her with your elbow, startling her.

“Stop it! Give me some room to complain, woman. I’ve already accepted plenty of your side eyes this morning.”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled her along by her hand. Her eyes stuck where you two were touching. “What are you…” As you opened the door, you followed down the hallway, being careful not to be spotted. Shushing her and slightly pulling her against the wall to cover with the shadows, you pointed to the now visible men, who were around the corner in a small operation room. There were gift-themed boxes scattered everywhere, alongside bags of bright purple powder. Still, for anyone, it could be said this was a normal management room.

“Pretty sure there aren’t any Barbie houses in those boxes,” Natasha muttered. You nodded, counting the number of guys. “So that’s how they do it. They benefit from the holidays to smuggle the drugs…” She trailed off.

“…and because there is so much activity and shipment movement it goes easily under the radar.” You finished happily, looking up at her with a grin, only to notice that she was already watching you. Her eyes locked on your hand, which still rests softly on her upper chest, the space between the two of you being almost nonexistent. In your excitement, you didn’t notice how close you were.

For a second, you didn’t say anything. No happy comments or quick remarks. She didn’t say anything either, no sarcastic retort or reproach. The only sounds were your breaths and the faint pulse of a frantic heart.

Even if it felt like it was frozen, there was this notion that one of the two was moving slightly closer. If not both of you. But as it turns out, time didn’t actually freeze, and it didn’t take much for someone to spot you.

“Hey, what are yo-… Oh shit.” Someone exclaimed, making both of you jump away from each other. You caught the movement of Natasha reaching for the taser that (you didn’t approve of) was strapped on her back. However, a quick analysis of the man’s face told you enough to make her stop. She looked at you in confusion before reading the spark in your eyes. A nod.

“Oh, sorry, we thought this was an empty closet…” You giggled, dramatically grabbing Natasha’s arm and putting your face on Natasha’s shoulder, nuzzling her neck. You felt her tense before her arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer. You were pretty sure that extra beat wasn’t because of the adrenaline.

“This place is restricted to the public,” he muttered, flustered.

“Sure. How about we try the changing room, sweetheart?” Natasha muttered, loud (and suggestive) enough for the man’s awkwardness to grow tenfold and leave.

“What was that, man?”

“Nothing, just Mrs. Claus and her helper making out.”

It wasn’t long until you both returned to the first level of the mall. “Alright, this should be enough distance…” Natasha mutters, looking for any more tattooed men. Suddenly, an unusually soft, warm sensation process on her mind, looking down she can still see both your hands enterwined. You are looking to, but don't make any attempt to “fix” the situation.

“C’mon, let’s go inform Fury to bring in the team.” Immediately after that, you are pulling her along, Natasha’s face now fully complementing the same shade of her Mrs.Claus dress. If it was because of embarrassment or another feeling entirely she will not tell.

One thing she can say for sure. Perhaps this whole “christmassy operation” wasn’t bad after all.

***

—extra

(A FEW MOMENTS LATER, IN THE TOWER…)

”Great job, agents. I appreciate your work.” Fury hangs the calls, turning to the rest of the team. “Apparently, they found out actual activity of the smuggling. Have plenty of high ranked operators and shipment cargo.”

“Why the surprise?” Bruce questions, while Tony laughs.

”Shit, they actually did?” Everyone looks at him confused. “What? You guys don’t know?”

The room fills with puzzled looks as Steve exhales audibly in his chair. “This operation was merely a facade to orchestrate a charming little rendezvous between Natasha and Y/N. It’s rather remarkable they stumbled upon anything, considering the slim odds,” he elucidates nonchalantly.

”And Fury greenlit this?”

“I did. I’ve grown weary of witnessing Agent Romanoff’s infatuation with Y/N—it’s proving distracting. Even the junior agents are indulging in speculation about their eventual…get together. Sooner rather than later, I say,” Fury explains, shrugging indifferently.

“You did what?!” Natasha growled, practically kicking the door down.

Most people have never seen a single emotion on the director's face. But the ones who were there that day would forever remember the flash of fright that flashed in Nick Fury's good eye.

#mcu #marvel #natasha romanoff #fanfic #nat x reader #natasha x reader #fluff #oneshot #short prompt #christmas #grumpy nat #reader insert

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