#and then after im too exhausted to do anything else and we BARELY made any progress so i just get farther behind because im not DOING- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

connieluvsr · 1 year ago

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ONE OF THE GIRLS | part 3

pairing: (electric) guitarist!jungkook x singer!reader(f)

genre: band au, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

summary: when your main guitarist gets sick and can't perform at your show, you get help from someone unexpected.

warnings: swearing and some making out, hot jk:)), drinking, mention of drugs, smoking, slight smut, angst, reader is complicated.

word count: 6.9k

a/n: FINALLY after 2 months of not posting. i swear i want too many things to happen in this series but still didn’t know what to write. im so sorry for you waiting that long, please enjoy this chapter!

__________

"Woo! Amazing!" Avery's claps echoed through the room as she leaped onto the plush leather couch, sending vibrations that jolted Zac into a celebratory dance.

The much-anticipated day of the show was drawing near, and we had been tirelessly rehearsing. Despite everyone's praises, I felt there was always room for improvement.

"I'm utterly drained. Let's call it a day," I declared, collapsing onto the couch next to Avery and Zac.

"Are you sure? You practically begged me for extra rehearsal hours," Jungkook teased, concern etched on his face.

"My throat feels like it's on fire, and my head is pounding," I confessed, my voice hoarse and tired.

Avery gently rubbed my back, suggesting, "Take some Strepsils; you'll be fine."

Zac stood up, nodding in agreement. "Should we head out?"

"Yeah, let's go," Avery chimed in, following Zac toward the door. "Bye, guys!"

As they left, we waved our goodbyes, and I closed my eyes, sinking back into the couch. Suddenly, I felt Jungkook's presence beside me.

"Are you okay?" he inquired, his voice laced with concern.

"Yeah, why?" I replied, meeting his gaze with weary eyes that threatened to shut at any moment.

He sighed, clearly sensing something was amiss. "I feel like you're not telling me something."

"Do I have to spill every detail of my life to you?" I snapped, my exhaustion making me unusually irritable.

He looked taken aback, his confusion evident. "No, I didn't mean—" Before he could finish his sentence, he stops. He looks at me with such sad eyes. "Get some sleep. Talk to me when your eyes aren't threatening to close on their own," he retorted, his words sharper than intended. He hesitated for a moment, as if wanting to say something more, but eventually, he stood up and silently closed the door behind him. I let out a heavy sigh and covered my eyes with my palms, hoping to find a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

He knew you’re not being yourself, you kept the distance a lot more these days since what happend with Ander, everyone noticed, including Avery, who wanted to hang out but you politely declined everytime with another made-up excuse. You don’t want to sing — you mean you can’t sing with someone else, It’s not … what you’re used with. You hate new, you want the ordinary, the basic you’ve been doing.

Jungkook’s an amazing singer, you know it and he knows it too, but everytime you step into the practice room, a knot tightened in my stomach, you know how much he wants to help you and you know how much you need him, so you let him, but deep down you think about Ander and how quick he left and you’ve got someone else.

His voice resonated with passion and talent, filling the room with melodies that should have comforted me. Instead, they only intensified my insecurity. I compared every note he sang to the echoes of Ander’s notes, the memory of our duets haunting me like a ghost.

Did Ander try to contact you? Well His messages were filled with empty apologies, excuses that felt like salt on my wounds. I blocked him on all platforms, so he sent pointless emails.

The clock says 04:55, I found myself tossing and turning in bed, unable to shake off the tension from earlier. Unable to bear the suffocating feeling inside, I quietly slipped out of my room, barely seeing anything, I put on one of my hoodies and leave the house in the hushed darkness of the night.

The cool night air brushed against my skin as I walked aimlessly, trying to clear my mind. The city was silent, so, so, silent.

It was cold outside, I was in some Hello Kitty PJ’s and a hoodie that barely makes me warm, but I keep walking until I don’t feel the cold anymore.

The sun will rise in about half an hour now.

You wanna wait for it, making sure you’ll see it clearly, you go to the park that’s some miles away.

Suddenly, a cute dog start following you, you crouch down to him to pet him and he start licking you, gross but cute. “Come!” You smile and lead him to a small bench.

“Brianna?”

You turn your head, pulling the hood of the hoodie off to see better and you can’t belive who’s here. At this fucking hour.

He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone a mixture of concern and annoyance. He approaches me. “I knew I heard your voice. I thought- I thought I was crazy for a sec.” He looks up and down on me like he’s seen a ghost I wonder if I look okay, I didn’t bother to look in the mirror.

"I needed some fresh air," I replied, my voice cold, mirroring the chill in the night, trying not to make eye contact with him.

"Well, you should have stayed at home," he snapped back, his frustration apparent. "You can't just walk around in the middle of the night alone."

"I can do whatever I want," I shot back, my temper flaring, looking up at him. “I don't need you to tell me what to do." My attention goes back to the dog as he bites my finger in a playful way. Jungkook just stares at it looking down on me.

“Brianna, I want to understand-“

In the midst of our vulnerable embrace, a sudden surge of frustration and anger overwhelmed me. You get up, he takes 2 steps back. “You think you can just swoop in and fix everything?" I snapped, pushing Jungkook away. "You don't know what I've been through. You don't understand."

Jungkook's eyes narrowed, his own temper flaring. "Maybe I don't, but that doesn't mean I don't care. I hate seeing you like this, shutting everyone out, including me." He points to himself and talks in an exhausted way.

I scoffed bitterly, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "And what? You think you can change that? You think your concern will magically solve all my problems?"

He clenched his fists, his jaw set in determination. "No, I don't think it will magically solve everything. But at least you won't have to face it alone. We're friends, aren't we? Friends support each other."

"Friends?" I scoffed again, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. "Friends wouldn't fight all the time. Friends wouldn't constantly push each other's buttons."

Jungkook's expression softened, hurt flickering in his eyes. "Maybe we're more than just friends," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Maybe I care about you more than I'm willing to admit."

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. I felt a pang of guilt, realizing that my anger had overshadowed his genuine concern. "I don't know what I want," I confessed, my voice breaking. "I'm scared of messing things up, of losing the people I care about. Again.”

Jungkook stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup my cheek. "You don't have to have all the answers right now," he said softly. "Just know that I'm here for you, no matter what. We can figure it out together."

In that moment, the fight within me crumbled, replaced by a flood of emotions. I let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of my fears lifting, if only a little. Jungkook pulled me into a comforting hug, and for the first time that night, I felt a glimmer of hope.

We stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the night around us slowly coming to life. In that moment, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I didn't have to face everything alone. Perhaps, with Jungkook by my side, I could find the strength to confront my fears and conquer the challenges ahead.

As we stood there, embracing each other under the moonlit sky, I felt a sense of warmth and security wash over me. It was as if Jungkook's presence had cast away the shadows that had clouded my thoughts. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Jungkook pulled back slightly, his hands cupping my face again as he looked into my eyes with sincerity. "You'll never have to find out," he said, his voice soft but resolute. "We're in this together, remember?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I nodded, feeling a newfound sense of resolve. "Yeah, together," I echoed, realizing that I wasn't alone in my struggles anymore.

We continued our walk, no longer in silence but with a comfortable ease between us. We talked about our fears, dreams, and everything in between. With each word, the connection between us deepened, and I found solace in sharing my thoughts with someone who truly understood.

As the night turned into dawn, we returned home. The sun was beginning to rise, painting the sky with hues of pink and gold, signaling a new day and a fresh start.

He walked me home but before he could leave I stop him. “What were you doing alone at that hour? you didn’t tell me.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment before he starts “Thinking.”

“About?” You ask couriously.

“You.”

Before you could try to make him explain what the fuck was that he left.

“Rehearsal today at 4 ok?” he shots from the street.

You giggle and give him a thumbs up.

What the hell did just happen.

______

"You know, I think they make a great couple," Avery mused, her voice laced with a sense of certainty. She reached out, deftly taking the blunt from Zac's hand, her fingers brushing against his in a fleeting touch. Zac's gaze followed the movement, his expression a mix of annoyance and intrigue.

"Hm?" Zac responded, his curiosity piqued as he took in the mention of Jungkook and Bri.

Avery settled into his lap, the weight of her presence grounding him in the moment. She exhaled a puff of smoke, blowing it up. "Jungkook and Bri, don’t ya think?" Avery's words hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of mari*uana. Zac's eyes flicked towards Bri's image in his mind, then back to Avery. He hesitated, the smoke clouding his thoughts momentarily.

"Um, yeah, sure, but they don’t seem like they like each other or shit," Zac replied, his voice a low murmur as he tried to make sense of the situation. Avery's eyes met his, a playful glint dancing in them as she inched closer. Before she could take another puff, Zac leaned in, capturing her lips in a pressed kiss.

"I think they really like each other," Avery murmured against his lips, her words muffled yet sincere. Her fingers traced a thoughtful path along his jawline, her touch a gentle caress that seemed to ease the tension in his muscles. "I know Bri is afraid, I just know it, but JK? What would he be afraid of?" She furrowed her brows, deep in contemplation.

"Afraid of moving too fast and lose her?" Zac suggested, his voice barely audible, his thoughts unraveling like the tendrils of smoke surrounding them. He shrugged, the uncertainty evident in his gaze.

"God, you're really smart," Avery whispered, her lips brushing against his cheek in a tender peck. With a soft sigh, she slid off his lap, the absence of her warmth leaving a lingering sensation. Rising from the couch, she reached for her phone, her fingers gliding across the screen as she dialed a number.

____

Avery's eyes widened in disbelief, her excitement palpable as I recounted the bizarre events of the previous night, or was it technically today?

"I can't believe it! No way, you did what?" Avery exclaimed, her voice echoing with a mix of shock and exhilaration.

The weight of the situation pressed down on me, making my palms clammy as I buried my face in them. "I don't know, I feel so weird right now," I confessed, my words muffled against my hands. "I have a rehearsal with him in an hour."

Avery's eyes glinted with determination as she seized upon the moment, her excitement bubbling over. "You gotta ask him what was that!" she urged, her words rapid, punctuated by animated gestures. She jumped up and down on the sofa, the energy radiating from her contagious enthusiasm.

"I'm scared," I admitted, my voice barely audible as I grappled with the overwhelming vulnerability that threatened to consume me. "I'm scared to let someone into a place so important in my life again. Music means everything to me. I… I can't. I feel like I'm betraying someone."

Avery's eyes blazed with fiery determination, her frustration palpable as she unleashed her pent-up emotions. "Gosh, you're not betraying Ander! That fucker literally could've made you lose your show!"

I shook my head, my thoughts racing. "I'm… I'm not talking about him," I confessed, my voice quivering. "I just don't know what to do. I don't know if I can do this. I feel like I let him in too much. What if I lose him too? What if, on the day of the show, he'll say he won't come? What if—"

Before I could finish my sentence, Avery's hands shot out, shaking me and pinching me sharply. "Ouch!" I yelped, wincing from the sudden pain.

"You're like a crazy person talking right now," Avery retorted, her frustration palpable. She glared at me, her eyes fierce with determination. In a moment of impulse, I grabbed my phone and dialed Jungkook's number, my fingers trembling as I pressed the call button.

"Hi, it's me," I said, my voice catching in my throat. "Yeah, don't come today... No, don't. Bye."

Avery's jaw dropped, her eyes widening in disbelief. "What the hell was that, why?!" she screamed, her frustration boiling over. She pulled at her hair in exasperation, her voice tinged with desperation. "You're not thinking straight!! The show is in 3 days! Come on! Once this is over, you'll find someone else if you're so scared of falling for him."

"Falling? What do... You think I love him?" I stammered, my words trailing off as I tried to make sense of my own feelings.

"You definitely love each other," Avery stated matter-of-factly, her tone unwavering. "You're both two dumb fuckers. Call him to come to rehearsals, for god's sake, I'm out."

"W-wait, Avery!" I shouted, but she was already gone, her footsteps fading into the distance.

"Fuck, it even started raining!" she screamed from the porch, her words carried away by the wind as she drove away.

I sigh in frustration as I collapse onto the plush couch, my weary eyes scanning the ominous clouds looming outside the window. With a heavy heart, I receive a notification alert on my phone, urging me to stay indoors due to an impending danger and an imminent rainstorm. The familiar sense of dread washes over me, and I can't help but mutter a resigned exclamation under my breath, "God... not again."

I pull the notification bar down, revealing a series of alerts detailing the severity of the situation. Flash flood warnings, gusty winds, and potential power outages are mentioned, intensifying my sense of unease. With a deep breath, I rise from the couch, my footsteps heavy as I move towards the window to get a better view of the darkening sky.

The atmosphere outside grows ominous, the clouds swirling in a chaotic dance, painting the sky with shades of deep gray. The wind starts to howl, rattling the windows as if nature itself is echoing my inner turmoil. I glance around the room, contemplating my options. The dimming light emphasizes the urgency of the situation, urging me to make a decision.

Taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I quickly assess the supplies in my home – candles, emergency rations, and a flashlight. I grab them, creating a makeshift emergency kit, hoping it will be enough to tide me over if the storm takes a turn for the worse. As I secure the windows and doors, I can't shake off the feeling of vulnerability, a reminder of the unpredictable nature of life.

I return to the couch, clutching the emergency kit tightly, and stare out of the window once more. Raindrops splatter against the glass, blurring the world into a surreal painting of water and shadows.

I make myself some hot coco and before the power is out, which will probably be by the night, I turn on the TV to watch Brooklyn 99 and put a nice comfy blanket.

My heart pounds in my chest, the echoes of the thunderstorm still reverberating through the air as I try to calm my racing thoughts. The glow from the TV screen illuminates the room, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Just as I start to regain a semblance of composure, the knocks on the door pierce the silence like a gunshot. I jump, my breath catching in my throat, and I shoot a fearful glance towards the entrance, my mind racing with possibilities.

"Fuck..." I mutter under my breath, hesitating before the door. I entertain the fleeting hope that whoever it is might just go away, but my hopes are dashed when another round of four loud knocks reverberates through the house, each one intensifying my anxiety. The situation feels surreal, the storm outside mirroring the turmoil within me.

My hands tremble as I reach for the doorknob, my heart pounding in my ears. Then, amidst the chaos of the storm, a familiar shout cuts through the air, calling my name. "BRI. IT’S ME… OPEN." The sound of his voice sends a mixture of relief and concern washing over me. Without a second thought, I throw the door open, my eyes widening in surprise at the sight before me.

There stands Jungkook, drenched from head to toe, his clothes clinging to him like a second skin. I try to push away the distracting thoughts about his perfect abs and body, focusing on the immediate concern. "Get in the house; you're shivering," I say urgently, my hand reaching out to pull him inside. His shivering intensifies, and I can't help but worry about his well-being.

"Fuck—let me get—"

"Bri."

"Let me get towels and clothes and—"

"Bri." He stops me, his eyes locking onto mine with a depth of concern that sends a shiver down my spine.

"I—" I start to protest, but his worry silences me. I nod, my determination to help him overpowering any embarrassment. "Let me grab you something. Please. I don't want you to be sick." I manage to tear my gaze away from his intense eyes and hurriedly make my way towards the closet, pretending not to notice his actions as he starts to undress behind me, though my cheeks burn with an undeniable awareness.

As I fumble through my closet, my hands search for something that might fit Jungkook. Finally, I pull out an oversized T-shirt and a pair of sweats that used to be snug on me when I was a bit chubbier. I hold my breath, hoping against hope that they'll fit him. I mutter a silent prayer under my breath, my fingers crossed as I bring the clothes to him.

"Here," I say, my voice a little shaky, trying my best not to meet his gaze directly, feeling the weight of his presence in the room.

"Thanks," he replies, his voice carrying a mix of gratitude and amusement as he accepts the towel and the clothes. After he dries himself, he starts to dress, and a soft laugh escapes his lips. "They're a bit... tight."

"I—yeah, I don't have anything else—" I stammer, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. My eyes dart away, not wanting to acknowledge the situation, even though his laughter is contagious.

"Bri," he says, his tone serious now, his laughter fading away. "I can't believe you told me I shouldn't come... I wanted to speak to you in person.”

His words hang heavily in the air, and I feel my heart skip a beat. I struggle to find the right words, my emotions in turmoil. "Jungkook... look, it's—" I start, my voice cracking with a mix of vulnerability and affection, wanting desperately to express what I feel but not sure how to articulate it.

"It's complicated," I finally manage to say, my voice barely audible over the distant rumble of thunder. I glance up, meeting Jungkook's eyes, searching for understanding. "I've been through so much, and I'm afraid... afraid of getting hurt again."

Jungkook's expression softens, his eyes reflecting empathy and sincerity. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup my cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. "Bri, I understand. I know it won't be easy, but I'm willing to try if you are. We can face the challenges together."

His words hang in the air, a silent promise that sparks a glimmer of hope within me. I find myself leaning into his touch, craving the comfort he offers. The storm outside mirrors the turbulence within my heart, but in this moment, Jungkook's presence provides a sense of calm amidst the chaos. “I thought we talked about this this morning. You were so committed-“

"I... I don't know. But all i know is i don’t want to lose you." I admit, my voice barely above a whisper, my eyes locked onto his. The vulnerability in his gaze resonates with my own fears and insecurities, creating a connection that goes beyond words.

He leans closer, and closer, and closer,

before I know, his lips meet me in a moment of sweet surrender, Jungkook's touch is gentle yet firm as he cups my face, his fingers warm against my skin. I close my eyes, savoring the softness of his lips, the taste of him like a bittersweet melody. His kiss is tender, a silent promise of affection and understanding.

A rush of emotions floods over me—desire, vulnerability, and a profound sense of connection. The air crackles with electricity, the charged atmosphere intensifying the intimacy of the moment. My fingers find their way into his soft hair, tangling in the strands as I pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

Jungkook responds with a soft sigh, his lips parting slightly, inviting me in. Our tongues meet in a slow, sensual dance, exploring each other with a hunger that transcends words. The kiss deepens, becoming a passionate exchange of emotions and desires, a silent conversation that speaks volumes.

I can feel the steady beat of Jungkook's heart against my chest, matching the rhythm of my own pulse. The world outside may be in chaos, but in this moment, there is only us—two souls intertwined in a kiss that feels like coming home. Time seems to stretch, the kiss becoming an eternity, a stolen moment of bliss that leaves us both breathless and wanting more.

When we finally pull away, our breaths mingling in the air.

In the dimness that followed the abrupt power outage, Jungkook's voice cut through the sudden silence, his words trailing off in the darkness. "I'm sorry if-" he began, but the sentence hung in the air, abruptly interrupted by the blackout.

A frustrated groan escaped my lips as I fumbled in the dark, desperately searching for my phone. "Fuck," I muttered, realizing the futility of the attempt.

“Bri, where are you?" Jungkook called out, his voice tense in the darkness.

My hands reached out, seeking his in the pitch-black void. "I'm looking for my phone. It should be here somewhere," I explained, patting the couch in vain.

"Can you give me your phone?" I asked, hoping for a glimmer of light to guide us through the oppressive darkness.

"I forgot it at home," he admitted with a nonchalant shrug, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness. "I rushed here! It's your fault!" he defended himself.

"How could you just leave without it?" I questioned, genuine disbelief coloring my tone. The realization that we were stranded without any source of light intensified the surreal nature of the situation. A deafening thunderclap reverberated through the house, adding an extra layer of tension to the already charged atmosphere. "Fuck, that was a big one," I remarked, my nerves on edge.

Finally, Jungkook's hands found mine, and he grasped my hand firmly, ensuring we moved in the same direction. The house enveloped us in impenetrable darkness, and my thoughts raced, thinking how we just kissed but we act like nothing happend.

Breaking the uneasy silence, I suggested, "My iPad is in my room. Let's get there to have some light."

"Don't you have flashlights?" Jungkook inquired, his grip on my hand tightening, revealing a touch of vulnerability.

"I took them out about an hour ago, but I have no idea where I put them," I admitted with a sigh, frustration lacing my words.

"Damn, Bri," Jungkook sighed, a subtle chuckle escaping him.

"Hey, you left your phone at home," I retorted, a laugh bubbling up in response to the irony of our predicament.

“Lead the way then,” Jungkook sighed, and we navigated cautiously through the darkness, the air thick with tension. Suddenly, a soft bump resonated through the space, and I winced. “Be careful,” he urged, his hands now assisting me in ascending the stairs.

Reaching the second floor, I extended my arms, feeling for familiar surroundings. The second floor has my room, a guest bathroom, my parent’s room and a guest room. Mine is right next to the stairs.

"Here," I announced, finding my bedroom door. Inside, my fingers fumbled on the nightstand, searching for my iPad. "Damn it, I forgot to charge it. It only has 10%," I exclaimed in frustration. When I looked up, Jungkook's big doe eyes met mine, and I felt a strange warmth despite the chilly darkness.

"I can't believe it," he mumbled, plopping on the bed and reaching for the iPad to illuminate the room.

"I don't really use it," I defended myself.

"Good excuse," he teased, scanning the room with the makeshift light. His attention shifted to a framed photo on my dresser. "That's you?" he asked, pointing to a picture with me and Avery.

I nodded, picking up the photo. "Yeah, next to me is Avery."

He wore an impressed expression. "You sure had a glow-up. How old is this?"

"Like five years ago?" I guessed, placing the photo back on the nightstand.

"And you're..." I realized I hadn't shared my age.

"20," I quickly added, feeling a sudden twinge of self-consciousness.

"Aw, you were just 15," he smiled, studying my face.

"Yeah, and ugly and dumb," I self-deprecated.

"Hey! Don't say that! Now you're just not ugly," he teased, his characteristic smirk on full display.

"What the hell?" I playfully pushed him, and he burst into laughter.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he reassured, still chuckling.

"Sure," I sighed, opening the wardrobe to grab a hoodie. The room seemed to grow colder, prompting me to put it on.

"You cold?" He asked, looking over at me.

"A bit," I admitted, biting my lip.

“Damn.” Jungkook muttered, his gaze lingering on me as I pulled the hoodie over my head. The dim light from the iPad cast subtle shadows on his face, emphasizing the uncertainty in his expression.

I caught the hint of something unspoken in the air, prompting me to break the silence. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. I sit next to him now laying down, covering myself in the blanket.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Just thinking about how crazy tonight has been. I mean, I came here on a storm, we went from a blackout to searching for an iPad in the dark.”

I chuckled, the tension easing a bit. “Yeah, it’s been quite the adventure.”

He lays down next to me.

His eyes met mine, a flicker of something more intense passing between us. “And there’s that,” he added, his voice softer now.

“What do you mean?” I inquired, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Moving myself completely to face him.

“You know,” he started, choosing his words carefully. “The kiss. It happened, and now we’re here in the dark, and it’s like it never did.”

I felt my cheeks warm, the memory of our unexpected kiss replaying in my mind. “Yeah, about that,” I began, unsure where the conversation would lead.

He cut me off with a gentle smile. “I’m not complaining. Just trying to wrap my head around it.”

“Do you wan-“ He cuts me off.

.“I don’t know. Do you want to play 20 Questions or something to pass the time.” He seems very agitated.

“Sure, why not?” I agreed, eager to divert our thoughts. I try to not show how i really feel about just getting over the kiss subject.

“Okay, first question: Where did you grow up?”

His expression shifted momentarily, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features. “Seoul,” he replied vaguely, not offering more details. “You?” He asks curiously.

“Brooklyn.” I sensed his reluctance to delve into the topic, so I changed course. “My parents actually moved to another state a while ago. It’s been strange not having them around.”

Jungkook looked genuinely interested. “Really? Why’d they move?”

“Work,” I explained. “They found better opportunities, and I guess they wanted a change of scenery. It’s just me here now.”

His eyes softened with understanding, and I could tell he wanted to ask more.

Instead, I diverted the conversation to his parents.

“And your folks? What about them?”

I noticed a subtle shift in his demeanor, a guardedness that hadn’t been there before

“They’re around,” he replied vaguely, avoiding eye contact.

I sensed his reluctance and decided not to press further. “Fair enough.

“I’ve been wondering about Ander- If you wanna talk about it. Like how’d you two met and how did you start a freaking band?” He asks, his eyes searching for mine.

“Ander’s been my friend since high school. We both had this crazy obsession with old music, and we bonded over that,” she began, a nostalgic smile playing on her lips. “He initiated that we should make a ‘band,’ and I’d be the lead singer while he’d be the guitarist. He was really talented, playing all day in school, driving teachers crazy. He’s still good, but, you know, people change who they are, not their capabilities.”

Jungkook, his eyes reflecting genuine interest, listened carefully to her story. Brianna, embracing the newfound openness between them, decided to steer the conversation toward Jungkook’s passions.

“Let’s get over that topic,” she chuckled, nudging him playfully. “Tell me, aside from music, what are your other passions or hobbies?”

Jungkook, a plushie of a cat in hand, smiled as he confessed, “Well, I’m into photography.”

“Really?” Brianna’s curiosity sparked, and she straightened on the bed.

“Yeah, I like capturing moments, you know? I’d love to take pictures of you one day,” he said, his smile accompanied by a playful wink.

“If I let you,” she replied, giggling. “Have you ever traveled outside of the US?”

“Yeah, um, I went to almost every country in europe with my family, we stayed like 2 days in each for the summer break when i was in 11th grade. I loved Santorini.”

“Wow. Impressive. So you’re rich rich.” she elbows him. Actually, she was so much impressed than she showed him.

“My parents are, yeah, not me.” He corrects, modesty in his tone.

“Yeah but-“ I got cut off by him again.“You? Have you traveled?”

“Only in some states where i have my aunts or uncles.” I pout and get jealous of how much he’s seen.

“If you could change one decision from your past, what would it be and why?” I ask.

Jungkook paused, then confessed, “I think there’s a part of me that wishes I had pursued music more passionately from the beginning. I held back a bit out of fear.”

I remain silent as I take the cat from

his hand.

“What’s your biggest dream, Brianna?” Jungkook now looks at the cat but his eyes shift to mine, looking for truth.

“To make people feel connected to my music, to make people feel happy, feel sad, party to it, cry to it, to have thousands of people coming to watch me sing for them.”

“Well i’ll tell you a secret, i’m from the future and what you said it’s gonna happen.”

“Come on.” I laugh and punch his arm lightly. “Ok now me again.” I pause and think. “If you could have dinner with anyone, dead or alive, who would it be?”

“Such a “What to ask on a first date” from Wikihow or Buzz Feed kind of stuff question.”

“Fuck off!” they laughed, playful shoves exchanged. “Tell me!” I keep pushing him.

“Ok ok, Elvis Presley. I absolutely adore that man’s music.”

I nod, trying to find someone I’d go to dinner with. “I’d go with Freddy Mercury”

He looks at the ipad that now has

1% “Good choice. Hey, this is about to die.”

“We also don’t have internet connection or signal to see when we’ll get the power back.”

I sigh. Does that mean he’s gonna spend the night? I question myself.

“So lucky of us.” I sigh and look at him

again.

“Yeah.” he shrugs and when the Ipad finally ends it life, we stay in the darkness.

"I'm so bored," Jungkook announces, his voice echoing the monotony of the dark room.

"What's your body count?" I blurt out, surprising even myself with the sudden boldness.

"Damn, straight forward, huh?" he giggles, the dimness concealing the sly grin on his face. "I don't know, I don't count them."

"Approximately. Like you gotta know," I insist, pushing for a hint of revelation.

"I really don't know. You tell me," he challenges, turning the tables on me.

"I'm not telling you," I assert, maintaining a semblance of mystery.

"Why should I then?" he counters, his playful defiance hanging in the air.

"Fair," I sigh, but just as the silence begins to settle, Jungkook decides to unravel a bit of his own mystery. "It's around 15."

Leaning in, I tease, "Oh, I expected much more."

"Do I look like such a fuckboy? Don't answer that," he injects, his tone suddenly serious, only to be met with an eruption of laughter from me. He continues: "Even 15 is much. I wish it was like 2 or 3."

"Yeah, it may not be the best number, but still better than a lot of guys. Mine is 2," I confesses, revealing a surprising layer of vulnerability.

"Boyfriends?" He inquires, sensing there might be more to this story.

"Myeah," I acknowledge with a casual nod.

"I see. Have you ever… had anything with Ander?" Jungkook probes, curious about the dynamics between us.

"Hell no," I asserts "Well, he tried many times, but I friendzoned him until he got over and started liking other girls. He also tried to kiss me but nothing more. If he tried anything else… well, let's just say I'd be singing alone all the time."

"I see," He respond, the room now buzzing with a different energy, laughter and revelations dancing in the dimness. He stays silent a bit before continues in a low voice: “Do you have kinks?”

My hand trembled slightly as I took a sip of water, trying to mask my surprise at Jungkook's unexpected turn in the conversation. His chuckle cut through the awkwardness like a lifeline, and he leaned back, a playful glint in his eyes.

"If you're going to ask me such a personal question, it's only fair I get to ask you one in return," he declared, raising an eyebrow as if challenging me.

"Only if you spill first," I countered, unwilling to let him off the hook.

"I asked first," he retorted, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"I don't care," I shot back, determination in my tone.

"Me neither," he sighed, his gaze holding mine in a playful standoff. The room fell into a sudden, uncomfortable silence, amplifying the sound of tree branches scraping against the house and the howling wind outside. It was still dark.

"When the iPad died, it was around 10 pm," I mumbled, my attempt to bridge the gap with a practical detail.

A wry smile played on Jungkook's lips, his eyes holding a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "And now? Any guesses?"

I shook my head, realizing the absurdity of trying to estimate time in the pitch-black darkness. "No idea. Feels like we've been here forever."

He chuckled, a sound that carried a subtle reassurance. "Time flies, especially when you're in the dark with someone interesting."

A playful smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I navigated the intriguing twists of our conversation. "So you think I'm interesting," I remarked, my smile lingering even though he couldn't see it.

He responded with a sly challenge, delving into a more personal territory. "I might think that if you tell me if you have kinks. I really think everyone does. I was thinking about it some time ago, discovered mine recently."

A mischievous idea crossed my mind. "If you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine."

"I don't want to; I asked first."

"And I don't care you asked first."

"Fuck, Brianna, what do I gotta do to make you say it?" he sighed, frustration evident as he let his head fall onto the pillow.

"Are you really that curious?" I teased, the dim room masking the playful glint in my eyes.

"Fuck yeah, now I am!" he exclaimed.

I pat his arm until I feel his hand, it was big, if you might add, and veiny, full of tattoos, even tho i couldnt see them, i knew they were there.

"You have a... hand kink?" He inquired, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Well, if that's how you call it, then yes."

I confess.

"What exactly do you like about hands?" He now sounds serious and curious, like he really wants to know.

"They're hot. I just... they're hot," I admitted, and as his gaze met mine, I found myself captivated by the intensity in his eyes.

"Do you think mine are?" he whispered, a vulnerability underlying the question.

"Well, I do," I replied, almost hesitating. His hand found my waist, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through me.

"What do you like, Jungkook?" I asked, the air between us charged with anticipation.

"Hmm, everything, especially you."

“W-what.” I whisper as he gets on top of me. I feel our bodies lean closer together, the heat between us rising with each breath. I run my fingers through Jungkook's hair, caressing his neck and tracing his shoulders. I draw him closer, his lips just moments away from meeting mine. Our lips finally meet, the passion finally released, our tongues mingling in an intimate dance. His hand squeezes mine, the other hand running down my body to my waist. I draw him closer, our bodies tangled intimately. I feel like I’m kissing him for the first time, even if I’m not.

Breaking the kiss, he looked into my eyes, both of us breathless. "Is this okay?" he asked, seeking affirmation for more than just the kiss.

"It's more than okay," I assured him.

"I really like you, Bri," he confessed, his hand gently caressing my face.

"I like you too," I finally admitted, and before he could say anything else, I pulled him into another deep kiss. Fingers entwined in his soft, fragrant hair, our connection deepening with each passing moment.

Suddenly, when everything was almost too perfect, we hear a loud beep, tv starts playing downstairs, the room now being all bright again, outside you couldn’t hear anything anymore. the storm has stopped. lucky us.

My heart raced as I pushed him away, the sudden intensity leaving an awkward tension in the room. "Now that's cringe," I mumbled, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Really?," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. He reached for my face, planting a small, lingering kiss on my swollen lips. Laughter escaped him, and confusion etched my features.

"W-what? Why are you laughing?" I stammered, feeling a surge of insecurity.

"Your cheeks, and nose, and forehead—you're blushing so hard," he chuckled. Before I could protest, he gently pushed me back onto the pillow, peppering my face with soft pecks.

"H-Hey!" I managed to utter between giggles, his kisses playfully tickling every inch of my blushing face. He finally stopped, getting up with a mischievous smile.

"Let's go downstairs," he suggested. I gathered myself, taking off my hoodie, revealing a simple tank top and sweatpants. As I left the room, the familiar sounds of a Brooklyn 99 episode echoed through the house. Retrieving my phone, I noticed a slew of messages and the late hour, now reaching 10 o'clock.

"It's late. I think I'll just leave now. When should I come for rehearsals? Also… I'll bring your clothes tomorrow," Jungkook said.

"No problem, maybe, uhh… like 1 pm?" I suggested, my newfound awkwardness betraying the earlier intensity.

"Right. I'll be there," he agreed. Cupping my face, he planted a final soft kiss on my lips. "Take care."

"You too," I replied, closing the door behind him. The weight of the moment lingered, and I couldn't help but reflect on the unexpected turn of events. Oh my god.

———

#bts jk #bts jungkook #bts #jeon jungkook #jeongguk #jk x reader #jk x you #jungkook and reader #jungkook #jungkook x oc

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bingo6776 · 2 years ago

Text

Amber Freeman x Reader

disgustingly unedited, ive never written for Amber freeman before but shes bae and hot so yk heyo. if theres any feedback or ideas, my asks or dm are open

probs ooc? again idek im just sleep deprived

1.6k

You were tired.

You were completely and totally exhausted.

You had barely slept last night after you had heard about the murders, another fuck face trying to make a name for themselves whilst hiding under the Ghostface mask. Why did you still live in Woodsboro? Fuck knows.

You were scared shitless, who knew who the next victim was going to be? Whilst as far as you knew, you had no ties to the original Woodsboro murderers or actual reason to be targeted, that didn’t prevent the anxiety that consumed your entire being, feeling like you were edging closer and closer to a break down as said anxiety played ‘keep aways’ with your sleep.

So yeah, its suffice to say that 8 hours of the barbaric education system was not good for your health, mental or physical.

Hence, why you were more so dragging your feet than actually walking through the hallways. You didn’t even have the energy to dodge most of the students that were too caught up in their own worlds to pay attention to the fact that other people actually existed and wouldn’t just part like the red sea for them. Instead, you made a mental list of the all the people that slammed into your shoulder, swearing that one day you’d smite them down – the kind of thoughts only a sleep deprived, and still overly caffeinated person would have.

All you wanted to do was go home, get into the baggiest, most homeless looking outfit you had and watch movies.

And at some point spam Amber until she ‘caved’ (jumped in her car the first chance she got) and came over to indulge in your lazy evening.

Which is why, when your eyes finally laned on your girlfriend, you felt some of your tension leave your body, a warmth filling its place.

She was leaning up against one of the wall lockers, a scowl on her face as she watched Wes and Mindy argue you with one another, rolling her eyes occasionally as if they were something much more important she should be doing than listen to the childish bickering her friends had daily.

As you shuffled closer to the group, you let a small smile tug at your tired features as Amber’s gaze landed on you, her bored, aggravated expression softening slightly at the edges as her face relaxed, her lips titling up slightly in a smirk instead of an actual smile.

Amber Freeman may be soft as fuck for you, but she was very much still the dark, brooding Amber everyone else knew. Just with you, she was slightly warmer, less sharp edged.

Once you had gotten close enough to the group, she wrapped an arm around your shoulder, the other hand simultaneously pulling your bag from you as she flung the backpack across her own shoulder, ignoring the teasing look from Mindy and the eye roll from Wes as he tried to reegange Mindy in their conversation.

At seeing the way your body seemingly slumped in on itself, every movement taking more energy than it plausibly should, she placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Is everything okay, my love?” she uttered lowly, looking at you with such an openly worried expression you almost melted on the spot.

You simply hummed in response as you leant into her body, your face landing in the crook of her neck as your arms encircled her waist, “just tired.”

“Aww, would you just look at these adorable little love birds we’ve got here?” you heard Mindy tease, no doubt a cocky grin on her face. If you actually cared, you’d pull yourself away from Amber’s grounding embrace to flip her off, but did you care? Honestly, not a single fuck was given.

You were far too sleepy, and much more comfortable with the warmth Amber exuded to give a fuck about anything, actually.

One of Ambers arms left you shoulders, probably doing the flipping off for you. “If you don’t shut the fuck up, and fuck off right now, I’m going to kill you,” the sweet voice Amber forced on made the threat seem even more haunting. “Very slowly.”

You lightly poked at her side, you knew she’d never actually hurt one of her friends, but you’d spoken about the right time and place to threaten people with death. School after an attempted murder was most definitely not one of them.

“C’mon, Amber, you know I could take your ass,” Mindy quipped, knowing full well that whilst you had wrapped yourself around the taller girl, Amber wouldn’t move a muscle until you let her go.

“You fucking wish,” you girlfriend practically growled out. “You wouldn’t even last two minutes.”

“Oh, yeah, wanna bet? Come at me right now then, if you’re so big and bad.”

Sighing heavily, you placed a soft kiss on Amber’s neck. “I swear to all that is good and holy, if you even think about moving right now, I’m going to be the one killing you, do not test me.”

Mindy could barely hold back the laugh that overtook her body at the murderous glare Amber shot her way instead of, well, actually shooting her – unbeknownst to Mindy it was a very real, and a rapidly growing, possibility.

It was honestly comical to see the sarcastic and at times outright scary, Amber Freeman trying to intimidate the other girl, whilst you were clinging to her body like Amber was your saving grace, the only source of warmth in the middle of the Antarctic.

Yet, as amusing as it was, even Mindy eventually got bored of the banter which eventually simmered to one sided taunts as you silently soothed Amber’s simmering anger. So, being the mature person Mindy believed she was, she wandered away to go see how riled up she could get her twin instead.

Once you heard Mindy’s steps retreat in the emptying hallway, you pulled away slightly from Ambers body, keeping your arms around her waist.

“You know, if you keep wishing death on your friends, people might start to think you’re the new Ghostface,” you looked up at her, eyes trailing how her lips drew up in a lazy smile, your eyes eventually locking onto her own, and the all too familiar feeling of falling into the dark orbs encompassed your body.

“Please. Little old me? I wouldn’t hurt a fly,” her voice was gentle, her gaze soft as she slowly leant down, her lips grazing yours as she whispered the last of her sentence before she finally planted a soft kiss onto your waiting lips.

it only lasted a few seconds before Amber pulled away, one of her hands running through your hair before landing at your neck. For a few seconds you just stood like that, arms around each other, letting the rare instance of quiet fall over you.

You knew for sure that if you had walked in on such a seemingly intimate moment between another couple at school, you’d gag and cringe as you poured bleach into your eyes.

But with Amber it was different, everything was just so overwhelmingly perfect that at times you found yourself wondering when it was all going to go shattering to the ground, leaving you heartbroken. As soon as those thoughts would take hold, Amber would be there. Whispering sweet nothings to you as she held you close.

Before you fell too deeply into your thoughts, you felt Ambers arms leave your body, her hand clasping onto one of your own as your arms fell to your sides.

“So, go ahead. Spill, what’s got you so tired today, hm?” she gently ran her thumb up and down your hand as you began walking towards the parking lot, where your friends where waiting before the group eft for the lunch period.

“After everything that happened with Tara, its been hard to do anything, let alone sleep,” for a second you saw something flash across Amber’s face, but it was gone as quick as it had come, the only sign that anything had changed at all was in the way she pulled you close as she stopped walking.

Placing a delicate kiss to the back of your hand, Amber tried to keep her voice steady, “as long as you’re with me, I promise you with every ounce of blood in my body that you’ll be safe,” she looked deeply into your eyes, trying to convey that she’d lay her own life down if it meant you could keep yours, “I’ll protect you.”

Shocked by the sudden deepness to her words, a deepness you didn’t completely grasp, you only blinked up at her.

After a beat of silence, you smiled up at her. “I know, I know. I trust you,” not liking the heavy silence that weighed on your shoulders, a far cry from the way you could both usually spend hours in a comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s presence, you smirked up at her, “plus, you know I’d have Ghostface on his ass before the bitch could blink.”

A mischievous smile crept onto Amber’s face, “oh, really?” she jokingly leant back slight, as if she was assessing how likely that would be – you both knew it was complete bullshit, but hey, you never know right?

“You best bet, bitch,” you resumed the walk to your friends, tugging your girlfriend behind you as she let out a loud laugh, the sound you rarely ever heard outside of the confines of one of your bedrooms leading you to laugh alongside her as people around you both gave you concerned look as the ever so stoic girl laughed in a way that sounded… free of sadistic intent?

Yeah, Amber was most definitely a simp.

#scream #scream 2022 #amber freeman #amber freeman x reader #reader #mikey madison #bitches be gay #id let her stab me

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futureplayboibunnie · 2 years ago

Text

‘Exhaustion’

Dr Strange x fem! Avenger! reader

SMUT SMUT SLUT SMUT

im so tired, i’m sorry if its shit pls bare w me.

omg Stephen and you stuck in a cabin forced to get along…God knows what’ll happen.

MDNI leave nooooooow.

'Stephen,' You stifled in warning and surprise, slinging your bag onto the bedroom door, 'why is there only one bed?'

He rushed to see if you were jerking his leg, to see if you were actually telling the truth and not sneaking around like a cat in the dark. He rolled his eyes and groaned as his feet found his place in the doorway of the bedroom, his eyes rolled at the sight infront of him and he let out a low exasperated groan.

'I'm just gonna make a quick call." He whisked away as fast as he came, your heart was littered with goosebumps and a shiver ran a course between your shoulder blades. You heard the richness of his voice as he buzzed against the landline phone.

'Tony, your attempts to make me play house with everyone on the team is all in vain and a waste of time. You're not that idiotic are you?' Stephen winced as the phone was nestled against his ear, his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in a fit of frustration. His patience was wearing thin at Tony, trying to make him play nicely with everyone on the team just to torture him.

'I'm going to ignore the fact you called me stupid because I'm that generous. This all started with your inability to get along with any of us, so therefore you're reaping what you're sowing thus it is actually not my fault. See the equation?' Tony snorted back at him.

'Here's what I don't understand,' Stephen let out a dry sarcastic laugh, 'for all the others you've made me stay in the safehouse with so we could 'get along' there were two beds. Two. So why is there only one with Y/N?'

Tony huffed a laugh against the phone.

'Uhm, becuase you don't give goo goo eyes to anyone else but her. I have this feeling that she's the one that can fix you for me.’

'Fix me?' Stephen raised an eyebrow but he wasn't denying Tony's goo goo eyes comment.

'Dear God, you need to get laid.' Stephen could hear the humour play on Tony's breath, and it made him annoyed as well as self conscious. Way too self conscious about something he shouldn't even be entertaining or thinking about.

'You took our phones away, what the hell are we supposed to do for a weekend? '

'Sex. Hate-sex. ' Tony stated briefly before hanging up, Stephen heard the death of the line and felt his eye twitch after hanging up the landline.

He was frenzied and stormy, Stephen was fiddling with his fingers which he never usually does probably because he was alone in a cabin with you. He never worked in a team, never due to the pompous demeanour of his ego and his inability to harbour empathy for people he didn't like but you were more than willing to challenge him, play at his final game. The others just moaned and groaned in frustration at him and his ministrations but you playfully insulted him, no holding back, going right for the jugular when he least expected it. He couldn't help his feelings be hurt a little and he didn't like that you had the ability to do that.

And now he was here alone with you, he hadn't really dabbled with the idea of fucking you, he was slightly intimidated if anything but you could see right through him; the flaws that he was too blind to see. Tony lodged that thought into his head now and he couldn't shake it no matter how hard he tried to push it out of his mind.

Stephen went back up the stairs and he found you sitting at the edge of the bed in the bedroom. You were absolved in your own thoughts, quiet in a way he'd never seen and it stunted him. You were chewing at your lip and it piqued his interest. You were rubbing your hands atop of your thighs as if you were...impatient. He cocked his head to the side and psychoanalysed you as he does with everyone else since he had full view of you now.

Pretty. Really pretty. Pretty eyes, magnetic eyes. Lips. Kissable lips.

No. Not now. Not ever.

You were knocked out of your daze when you saw Stephen's frame by the door.

'So what'd the asshat say?' You quipped with a monotonous tone.

'One bed, gave no reason as to why.' He lied and again he feared you saw through him once again. He feared that a sweat was about to break free from his forehead when you squinted your eyes and raised an eyebrow.

You gazed up at Stephen with big doe eyes, your thoughts were running rampant with all of these outcomes. Sleeping on the same bed? No way.

'Ever slept with a real life woman before?' You crossed your arms as you questioned playfully, pondering upon socially forbidden grounds when it comes to a man you don't consider even an acquaintance.

'Yeah, lots. Made them cry in pleasure and die from exhaustion.' His mouth was forming words on their own, he didn't mean to have his voice sound as low as it did but it just happened.

You recoiled an inch until an awkward smile appeared on your face due to the misinterpretation of your question, of course he thinks he's the shit in bed. You secretly didn't expect anything else.

'I meant sleep as in sleep next to a woman.' You clarified. Stephen should be embarrassed but if anything he was feeling confident, he didn't know where this sudden surge came from but he was tapping into it.

He hadn't given in that easily, ever.

'No, no woman has ever interested me enough for me to actually stay the night.’ A massive dumbass smirk encased his face and you wanted to kick it in.

'You sure you even like women at this point Strange? Is it because you constantly lose to women such as myself?' You played your hand at flirting by disgusing it as an insult. It was fun playing this game, it's the most fun you've had with another Avenger and you were feeling your oats.

'You're unbearable.' He shot back at you with creased eyes.

'And your insults are lukewarm at least. It's almost as bad as your Avenging. Come on, what happened to you being the cold and mean big bad of the team?' You teased, mimicking the same facial expressions. You stood up and finally made your long awaited way to him.

On a whim, he immersed himself in that goal. He cqn play at the insulting game.

'I think you're a spoiled daddy's girl who doesn't take no for an answer and expects every man to sleep with her, sorry I mean fuck you because spreading your legs are easier than admitting you have no real asset or skill whatsoever.' Stephen's sly cheshire cat smile and the roaring insult made your breath halt.

Damn, but playing along is easy for you too.

'Misogyny, Doctor? Well, I think you couldn’t tell your face from your ass even if it was plastered in Times Square. " You inched closer, ‘'I think the Sanctity of Life means nothing to you, you only share your gospel of goodness onto other people so you can convince yourself that you own the moral fucking highground and that your moral compass is more intact than any of ours.’' inching closer again, ‘'You've killed people but you try to convince yourself that you're still a Doctor that wants to save people from death well guess what..? You're an Avenger now- casualities happen.’’ You inched for the final time. '’You wave around your doctorate as if it means anything to anyone, if anything I think your doctorate is compensating for something that you lack.'’ Your eyes cast down to where his dick was, you were so close to him your eyes connected like an unbreakable chain. An unbreakable bond.

'Hm.' He smirked as he let out a short exhale from his nose, staring down at you as if you were gratifying him of sorts which confused you.

"Struck a nerve?' You questioned lowly, he wasn't sure if it was rhetorical or not but it made his mind whirr in ways he hadn't stretched out before.

"Teach me then.’

'What?'

'Teach me to be a good Avenger then since you're so good at it.' He responded in an abnormally soft tone and it internally stunned you as well as confused you. He was asking you to teach him, the man that was furiously independent wanted your notes on how to be better.

You jumped at the opportuntity to give it to him.

'Fine.' You swiftly made your way past Stephen, giving him incentive to follow you down the stairs, and like the 'obedient' man he was he traced your steps along with you. He hated the way you hypnotized him, your smart mouth was something admirable as well as annoying.

'I could really hurt you, you know." He sucked at his teeth in prolonged frustration as you both found yourselves in the living room. Swivelling around, your eyes radiated a dangreously playful yet warm and welcoming glow.

He knew a plan was devising in your head, the cat chasing after the mouse.

'You're pretty shit at combat Stephen. Let's not sugar things up and beat around the bush.' You voice was laced in blatant sarcasm; this man was so full of himself in every aspect in life and you decided to make it your own pesonal mission to knock him down a peg or seventy two.

You had noticed his small smirks when he thought you weren't looking and you found it very odd considering he despised every single member on the team, it perked you up a little. Maybe he was bringing out a new side of himself. And it was towards you.

'You wound me.' He pouted in faux mockery, you were stunned by his playful attitude and the fact that he was finally beginning to loosen up, the knots binding his ego were starting to unwind. If you said that to him infront of the others he would have started yelling at you and you would have both butted heads with steamed ears entertaining a screaming match.

Without hesitation, you swung at him with a fist and he instinctively ducked.

'Show me then, show me that you can't get your ass beat by me." You breathed with a smug smile splitting your smug face in half. He hated that you were so pleased with yourself and so ready to prove yourself right, but what he hated the most was how hot you looked doing it.

'Your own stupidity is gonna get your ass beat actually.' He tutted at you like a condescending parent.

He swung a fist at you first this time and you dodged it with ease. You grasped at his outstretched fist and twisted his arm enough that made you travel to the back of him, your front facing his back. He winced in pain and to top it all off you kicked the back of his knee and he dropped to his knees on the floor.

'Fuck.' He groaned softly and under his breath, to say that it caught you off gaurd was an understatement. His voice. So deep and...attractive. Your surroundings went blurry as your eyes unfocused, you grip on him loosened.

He lit up at the feeling and stood up and elbowed you in the face a lot harder than he meant to.

Your pained grunt snapped him back to reality and he felt an overwhelming wash of guilt course through him. Stephen turned to console you and absolve himself of fault. Your hands covered your nose and the skin of it made your groans buzz and muffle.

'Oh shit, I'm sorry I did that way too hard. Let me see, is it bleeding?'

He said softly, his eyes pleading blue. His hands were placed on the sides of your arms

Annoyance haywiring through you, you shook his hands off of you and you started mumbling as you made your way to the bathroom to check if you had broken it or not. Without warning, you felt a latching and a quickfire tug on your waist. Stephen conjured an orange fuzzy Eldreich whip with a quick quirk of his fingers and made it latch onto your waist, he tugged it back a bit and it made you clumsily twirl back into his arms.

In a swift daze, the world went blurry until the only thing you could view was Stephen's stern yet worried face. It took you a while to notice that your hands rested up on his forearms to steady yourself. A surpised exhale exited your mouth, your eyebrows creased and knitted in confusion.

Your heart dropped into your lungs as his hands were placed on your waist, the whip finally dissapating into thin air to whence it came.

'I said let me see.' He clarified with the same stern tone as his same stern face. Stephen lifted his hands to touch tenderly upon your face to inspect your injury. You weren't sure if you were red because of the hit or red because of the heated blush that was readily expectant on your skin.

'It's fine Stephen.' You tried to wriggle your way out of his hold but you were stifling against him, as you felt his stare boring into you…you finally made eye contact with him once more. You blinked up at him dumbly and his hands found hospice on your waist again, your breathing became more shallow and laboured. His eyes flitted to your lips and how the parted for him so readily and you began to melt into him, your body had a mind of its own.

Stephen was done fighting the urge to kiss you to make you shut up. He felt that gravity was collapsing beneath him and the air in the atmosphere felt thicker than before. Every breath, every pupil dialation was palpable by you both. Stephen's gaze darkened and you felt more seen than ever

'You okay?' He whispered.

'No.’

You had more balls than him and made that clear by leaning in first. Your lips shattered against his and no hint of finesse was found in your midst, he mirrored your eagerness and you opened your mouth for him to taste at. And like clockwork, he did. You tasted like cherries, no doubt due to your incessant chewing of gum and he revelled in the sheer sweetness of it all. His tongue discovered a new flavour, you. And it instantly became his favourite. Your hands carded through his hair and tugged slightly making him breathe into your mouth.

You ripped your lips away from Stephens to take a much needed breath. Eyes still screwed shut, your foreheads rested against one another.

'Aren't you supposed to hate everybody?' You let out an exasperated exhale, your warm breath fanning his face.

'Yes.’

Stephen didn't give you enough time to respond, his mouth crashed against your again but this time he bent down to feel up and grab the back of your thighs to hoist you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms slung around him with no time to lose. He smirked into your lips at your forwardness, you were insatiable and it drove him mad. Completely mad. Stephen walked you up the stairs and it felt like time was moving at a snail like pace, you thought he was doing it on purpose just to torture you. You tugged harder on his hair in retaliation.

Stephen kicked open the bedroom door and placed you onto the side of the bed, you were desperate for him to just rip your clothes off already but he was enjoying the slowburn. The delicious slowburn. Being between your legs was a wet dream come true for him, he was so full of pent up frustration annoyance and arousal and he needed an outlet, he needed you as an outlet and so much more it was bordering on pathetic but he couldn't deny his need for you any longer. He was fawning over you now, lips still connected, as you were sitting on the edge and he was standing.

'Stephen, touch me.' You breathed sensually, just begging for him to finally put his hands on you. Your petty arguments all had to inevitably lead up to this moment and your patience was thinner than ever.

'There's so many things I want to do to you. Say you want me and I'm yours.’ He grunted lowly at you, his eyes met yours in an animalistic daze.

'I want you.' You clarified, slightly annoyed that you had to pump up his ego.

'How bad?' Stephen smirked down at you.

'Stephen.’ You cautioned and warned in a cold gaze, of course he wanted to drag this out and inflate his arrogance even more in the process.

'Show me how bad.' He ignored your warning.

Your lips thinned into hard line. Without thinking, you aggressively undid his belt and unzipped his pants. Stephen let out a low gasp at your actions, he couldn't believe all of this was unfolding infront of his eyes. Your eyes flitted from his crotch to his face and you knew what you wanted to do next.

You couldn't control the ferocity of your fuck me eyes. You stuffed your hand into his pants and boxers.

'Woah..Easy, easy.' He whistled as he tried to tame you but he was the one who asked for this.

'You can take it.' You gritted.

You pulled his cock out of its confines and you were irritated at the fact he was...um...huge. Secretly, you dreamed it was but now he had the means to actually be full of himself. Your slender hand wrapped around him and slid up and down with ease due to the spit you slicked him up with, each quirk of your hand sent a jolt through him. You continued to edge him with just your hand before you finally put your mouth on him. Stephen's hand grasped at the roots of your flowing hair.

'Fuckkkk.' He groaned and slung back his head in pleasure.

Your mouth was so wet and warm and your saliva was just dripping out of you and onto him. It was sensational. He was so big that you had to wrap your hand around what couldn't fit. He obviously perked up at that. You suckled on his tip and your lips were becoming raw, red and swollen. Stephen could hear you gagging and choking on him and he almost felt bad. He could feel himself about to hit his peak and cum in your mouth, he wanted to wait to cum inside of you and feel at you but he physically couldn't do it. He released himself in your mouth was a gutteral rumbling groan.

He pulled you off of him and used his right hand to pinch and cradle your face upwards to stare him right in the eye. Stephens eyes were the bluest of blue but now they were black with lust, it made you spiral. He paused.

'Swallow.' He ordered softly and the wetness collecting inside of your panties was becoming increasingly prominent, your thighs rubbed together impatiently.

Your eyes didn't dare blink as you swallowed ever so obediently and stuck out your tongue to show the evidence. He completely lost it at that. Stephen reached back and pulled off his plain tee and pushed you down onto the bed harshly and all you could do was blink up at him like a surprised idiot His hands ripped off your shirt with ease and you gasped at the filthiness of it all. Your tits were exposed to the cool air.

'No bra?' He remarked like a horny teenager as he discarded the reminents of your top. Stephen pawed at the tender flesh and twisted your nipples and it made you whine into him.

'Shut up.' You kissed him to make him stop talking, you caught his lower lip with your teeth and bit down on it as punishment, he winced in pain and you smiled like a maniac.

His hands went doen to your waist to strip you of your leggings and they came off as quick as ever due to the sheer need of his to get you naked. Your body was magnificent, a temple and he wanted to worship it every day not just for tonight. Your underwear was barely visible and he bit his lip at the sight of your unclothed long legs and clear torso, he thought he was akin to that of a child at Christmas. He ripped down your underwear and the elastic burned against you.

Stephen felt his pants tighten at the mere sight of you. Your hair was strewn delicately over the pillows and your eyebrows were knitted in tense pleasure, your eyes were glowing with desperation and frustration and it was the sweetest of views. Stephen finally kicked his pants and boxers on and his skin was in contact with yours once again. He was obsessed with the feeling.

'You look good like this.' He complimented lowly and it made you blush surprisingly.

'I want to make you feel good Stephen.' You confessed breathlessly and dear God that shit eating grin was going to be the death of you.

You moaned at just the weight of him of being ontop of you. His body was carved to such a perfect degree you where visibly mad at it, everything about this asshole was so damn attractive- even his assholery was hot. Your arms scratched at his rippling back like a carnivore, you nails dug into him and he hissed into your mouth. Your lips were so damn soft and inviting, it was like he was sewn onto them.

Stephen guided his cock through your folds and you felt your back arch into him and your skin instantly felt hotter. Without warning he rammed himself into you and didn't give you the time of day to adjust, he just needed to hammer his cock into you until all you knew and could understand was him. Your walls were beginning to clamp down on him at a faster rate than socially acceptable, any other day you would've felt embarrassed but tonight you were brainwashed with desperation- too needy to even care. Your mouth was agape in pleasure.

You felt so wet and amazing, so slippery and it was all for him. He didn't think he would've ever got you in such a situation; finally biting the bullet and fucking you instead of arguing. The scene was all so filthy. Your eyelashes fluttered as you began to screw them shut but Stephen stopped you. His hand pinched and cradled your cheeks as he continuously rutted in and out of vou at a brutal yet delicious pace.

'No, let me see those eyes.' He growled at you and as obedient as ever, you obeyed. Your eyes were connected in firey carnal passion, it all felt like something out of a dream.

'Fuck Stephen! I think I'm gonna cum.' You cried at him as your fingers intertwined with his hair and tugged harder as if that made your point get across more.

He thought that was music to his ears.

'I can't get enough of you, you're so good...feel...you feel so good." He finally spat out inbetween prolonged breaths.

Stephen bit down at your neck and that sent you spiralling into another dimension, the scream that ripped out of you was other worldly and that set him off too. All you saw was white spots as delicious pleasure and pain warped through you and as if it was fate, Stephen came alongside you too. It was all so vulgar.

He breathed into your mouth and left a quick, swift, chaste kiss on your swollen lips before ultimately rolling off and laying beside you. Mouths suddenly dry but the excessive panting. A small smug smile began to form on your face and Stephen could literally hear it.

'I think you broke me.' He quipped and you turned to face him, he tried to conceal his smirk but he failed miserably.

'You liked it.' You raised a knowing eyebrow and he hated that you saw right throuh him again.

'I'm supposed to hate you, aren't I?' Stephen's eyes bore into yours and you instincitvely raised your hand to play with his salt and pepper hair and he melted into your touch once more.

‘Well, you proved that wrong, haven't you?' You rubbed salt into the wound playfully. You finally rested your entire weight on him by slinging your leg around him and resting your head at the base of his neck. He wrapped an arm around you and you felt so safe in his arms.

'Well who am I to deny someone who looks even hotter with their eyes rolling to the back of their head.' He laughed into your hair

"Thank God you didn’t make me die of exhaustion then.’’

—————

dear god i got so lazy at the end 😭😭

#dr stephen strange #dr strange angst #dr strange fluff #dr strange x fem!reader #dr strange x y/n #stephen strange smut #dr strange smut #stephen strange

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absolutelyfizzing · 3 years ago

Text

angels and demons

warren worthington x reader fluff

@shuckfaced-fangirl Hi! can I request a warren worthington x female mutant reader where her powers are shadow summoning? So I guess everyone in the school kind of views her as some sort of demon? With a lot of fluff? Thank you!!

Description - Y/N is a shadow summoner and is isolated from her peers. Warren helps her see that not everyone fears her and that she is worthy of affection.

warnings - its so fluffy. fem pronouns. some angsty stuff (isolation, depression, sadness), one innuendo, devastating fluff, warren being an angel. i tried to make it POC inclusive, please let me know if it feels restricting or excluding and i will edit it.

word count - 3700, i got carried away

A/N - im so sorry this took so long, i took a break from writing while i am working on moving to college. i will still be spotty for the next few weeks but hopefully, i will post a few more things in that time and then get back on a normal schedule. also, thanks so much for this request, i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope it is something you enjoy reading!

MASTERLIST

You walked through the halls with a lowered head. You knew that you made others uncomfortable and so you chose to try to make yourself as small and unthreatening as possible. You had been 'gifted' powers with which you could manipulate and create darkness. You were a shadow summoner. That wasn't a name that many found reassuring or comforting.

There were a few who could see past it and who was close to being what you might call friends but those people were few and far between. There were overwhelmingly more people who believed that you must have been a scary and mean person, that you were some sort of demon. This couldn't have been further from the truth if one were to look past appearances. Your shadow was larger and darker than that of your peers and it trailed behind you with a mind of its own, moving and growing without you even meaning for it to happen. Your hands were constantly covered in something darker and dustier than the rest of your skin, a deep and pure black. It trailed from the tips of your fingers and faded on your forearm so it looked as though you had just dipped your arms into a chimney or that shadows were crawling up your arms.

When you first got them, you thought they were sort of cool. They made you look sort of goth and that was fun. That feeling quickly faded when you saw how others, even your family, reacted. They said it was a curse from hell. You were barely convinced otherwise.

You sat away from others at the school during free periods. During lunch you sat alone and in the sun when you could, you hoped it might make others be less scared of you as it might make you look brighter but your shadow, dark and ominous, maintained a spot near you. You wore clothes that made you look more approachable to try to maintain that you weren't scary. Your brightly colored outfit didn't ever seem to work though, no matter how hard you tried.

You looked down at the food in your hands, the sandwich only half-eaten, and you noted your hands. They were so normal looking, your nails were well kept and you thought they were a good size. That they might even be a good size for someone to hold. The only thing was the unnaturally colored dust that seemed to cover them. It was a cool black, it glistened and sparkled in the sun when your fingers moved. It never moved or transferred to anything else, always stuck securely to your skin. You were distracted by the way your fingers seemed to shine when a shadow came near yours, wings outlined in it. You looked up to see a tall blond boy above you with curly hair and bags under his eyes. He nodded to a spot on the grass near you.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

You shook your head and even scooted away from the spot to give him more space despite the fact that you were in a large field.

"Do you want me to move?" You asked gently, wondering if maybe he wanted this particular spot and you took it from him unknowingly.

"I mean, I think that would sort of take away the whole point of me trying to sit with you." He smirked and you felt blood rush to your cheeks. "I like your hands" He hummed and you looked at him in shock. When his eyes met yours you tilted your head a bit.

"They don't bother you?" You tried to speak softly.

"No, I think they're awesome. They make you look punk." He smiled and you felt the corners of your mouth tug up a bit too.

"I like your wings." You almost mumbled as you allowed your gaze to move to the large feathery wings behind him. They moved in the wind and you found yourself wanting to run your fingers through them. "They make you look like an angel." You smiled and he groaned dramatically.

"I'm trying to look grunge." He pouted and you giggled a bit. At the sound, he looked up at you and blushed a bit. "Maybe we should trade."

"If I could trade you I would. Everyone is scared of how I look." You gazed back at the grass.

"I'm not." His simple statement made butterflies erupt in your stomach and you smiled a bit. You looked back at him and made eye contact for a moment.

"What's your name?" You asked and he maintained his gaze into your eyes. It was the most contact or conversation with someone else you'd had in a long time.

"I'm Warren." He smiled a bit and stuck a hand out to you to shake. You looked at his hand in shock. Nobody ever voluntarily touched your hands. Most of them worried that whatever was on them would spread. You hesitantly brought your hand to his, purposefully giving him plenty of time to remove his hand if he felt uncomfortable. But he didn't. Instead, your hand reached his and he shook it before letting go as if it was no big deal.

"I'm Y/N." You smiled a bit more and you felt a giggle come out of you from the joy of realizing this wasn't a dream, that someone was trying to talk to you and they weren't afraid.

"Is my name that funny?" He teased.

"No, I just-" you paused to think, "it's been so long since anyone has done this with me."

"Talked to you?" He questioned, obviously expecting you to say no and explain what you meant. Instead, you just nodded and his heart clenched for a moment. "Well, you can stick with me then."

"I don't know if you want your reputation to take a hit like that."

"My reputation is 'the angry and damaged kid', I'm sure it can handle the breaking news of me talking to a nice and pretty girl." He reassured before he even realized what he was saying. You could have cried at the feeling that rose up in your chest.

After that day, you stuck to his side like glue and he took no issue with it. The more you got to know him the more you appreciated the fact that he had taken you in. With his help, over the coming months, he helped you develop a stable friend group. That group included people like Ororo and Jane who had heard rumors about you and never bothered to check and see if they were real. They apologized profusely, especially Jean as she felt like she could have easily found out that you were kinder than she thought with her abilities but just had never done so, and you gladly accepted, just happy to be within a group.

You and Warren had developed a reputation. He was overly protective and gruff while you were overly nice and empathetic. You balanced each other well and if you were honest, you were in love with him. That always felt weird to say, you'd never been in love with anyone before but every second you spent with him made you more and more sure of your feelings.

When you and Warren were together, you would daydream about what it would be like to be in a relationship with him. Being held by him and wrapped in his wings. Getting to play with his unkempt hair. Holding his hand.

Sometimes he would try to encourage you to hold his hand. He would hold it out to you when he was helping you jump down from somewhere high. He would ask you to hand him things and then make decisive contact as he took it from you. He knew that it meant a lot to you, you practically gasped and blushed every time he did it. He had never met anyone so touch starved. He wanted to give you all the affection that you craved.

Unfortunately, Warren was rather oblivious, especially towards things like feelings and emotions. He had no clue that you had any interest in him, even though he hoped you did every day. If he wasn't so attached to your friendship, he might ask you out. Instead, he tried to maintain a friendly distance so he didn't cross any lines while also being as affectionate with you as he could be. You followed a similar path.

The person caught in the middle of this was poor Jean Gray. she had watched you pine over each other since you met and had heard every thought that went through both of your heads. She knew you would never complain or ask for help about anything so she liked to keep tabs on your thoughts every once in a while to make sure you were okay. Still, she tried her best to not listen very often or when you were thinking about anything very personal, she honestly did. But she was a romantic. All she wanted was for you two idiots to get together but you were both oblivious. She decided, probably 3 months into you becoming friends, that she had to do something about it.

She was sitting on your bed while you sat across your bedroom on your small couch. She fiddled with her thumbs while she tried to ignore your constant thoughts about Warren, his hands, his wings, his smile. She was exhausted. she took a small breath while she planned how she would try to say this to you.

"Do you want to know what I heard today?" She called and you looked up at her from the book you were pretending to read.

"Do you mean heard or 'heard'?" You laughed and she rolled her eyes.

"Either." Then she tilted her head. "Both."

"Yeah, I wanna know! What's it about?" You asked while leaning forward in your seat. Jean always had the best gossip to tell because she could literally hear it.

"Warren." She stated simply and watched your reaction. You flushed and stopped breathing for a moment.

"Wha-" you stuttered, "what about him?"

"That he has a thing for you." she winked and you flushed even more.

"You're lying." You assured, a questioning look on your face.

"I'm not and I'm tired of watching you two longing after one another while the rest of the school watches." She smiled and your heart picked up.

"I thought I told you not to look in my head!" You scolded but you weren't actually all that upset. You knew that it was very hard for her to control.

"I cant help it! Both of you think so loud. And I wouldn't have to anyway, Ororo mentioned it to me the other day and she definitely cants read minds." She giggled and you smiled a bit.

"Does he actually like me?" You almost whispered in disbelief.

"Yes! He's been obsessed with you since you started talking."

"But like he would want to actually go-"

"Y/N, I swear to god. If you don't go and talk to him right now I'm going to have a fit." She laughed and you glared at her.

"Okay okay fine, I'm going," you grumbled as you stood and walked toward your door. "If you are wrong I'm gonna be so upset with you."

She just laughed again and you started to walk down the hallway. You thought he might be in his room or outside. You decided to check his room first.

You knocked on his door but you were met with silence. You tried the handle and it moved.

"Warren?" you paused, "I'm coming in," you warned and pushed the door open. When you looked inside, he wasn't there. You took a moment to gaze around his room, it wasn't the first time you had been in there but every time was a bit exciting as you got to see all of the things he had that represented him. He had a boombox and a CD collection on his dresser. Some of his clothes were thrown around his room haphazardly and some of his drawers were open. You looked at the wall next to you where he kept photos that you took. You would carry around a camera or take pictures on your phone of everyone around campus. He always asked for them and then printed them out so he could hang them up. He had even managed to get a couple of you. You smiled a bit before heading back into the hallway, closing the door behind you.

You instead moved towards the door to get out onto the lawn where you thought he would probably be. He often sat under the big oak trees or on the roof if he wanted to get away from people. When you made it outside, you looked around for him.

"Y/N!" you heard him shout. You turned to look for him and saw his silhouette flying from the roof. You paused to admire him and his wings. He always looked so angelic to you. So powerful. You thought about how your power emanated darkness. That you would never appear angelic to someone and would more likely look like a demon. You looked down at your hands for a second, a habit you had when you were thinking about your powers. They sparkled a bit in the sun but it did little to quell the distaste in your mouth.

Suddenly there was a shadow in front of you that was not part of the darkness that surrounded you.

"Y/N?" he asked gently. "Are you okay?" he tried not to startle you. Being empathetic wasn't something that came naturally to him, but he tried extra hard around you. he noticed the way you were staring at your hands. The growth of your shadow as you thought about your powers more. He moved to touch one of your hands but you flinched back a bit. He brought his hand back and looked at you with concern. "Whats wrong, angel?" He asked lightly and you looked up at the pet name. He had started calling you that soon after you became friends. You thought it was out of irony but he really was convinced that you were some sort of angel. He also loved the way that your eyes would light up when he said it. You stared at him for a moment in silence.

"Do I scare you?" You asked quietly and your voice shook. He looked surprised by your question and you were surprised too. You didn't know why you were suddenly getting emotional. Why this was now all you could think about. Why it had to come up now when you were trying to express your feelings for him. Instead of responding he reached out to your hand, holding onto it when you let him, despite flinching away slightly. He started to walk, leading you toward the same tree you had met under. Once you both reached it he sat down and looked up at you, waiting for you to sit down too. You did, maybe a bit farther away from him than you needed to be.

"Do you think you scare me?" he asked genuinely and you took a second to think, looking back down at your hands which were now pulled back into your lap.

"I scare me," you stated simply and paused.

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know." You mumbled. "I think I freak everyone out. Including you I guess." Your voice was quieter than you meant it to be. you really hadn't thought about it in a little while. It had been on your mind plenty when you first started talking to him. You were extra conscious of not pushing him to be around you or near your shadow. You knew that he would move away if he needed to but you also had so many memories of everyone around you fearing you, running from you, telling you that you were a curse. Instead of responding he held his hand out in between the two of you, palm up. You knew that he was inviting you to take it but that he wouldn't push you to. Instead of taking it, you placed your hand near his on the ground and he left his next to yours, not trying to take it if you didn't want him to.

"You don't." He let out, sounding sure of himself and slightly pained. "You don't scare me." You looked at each other. He had tears in his eyes. He was never one to get emotional so you were surprised. "Do I scare you?" he questioned, already knowing your answer but trying to prove a point.

"Of course not." You sighed.

"You have a lot more reason to be afraid of me than I have to be afraid of you." he looked at your hand again. "I'm the one who has a rough history, I'm the one who is angry and has a reputation of being aggressive."

"But, Warren, your mutation is-"

"Mutation has nothing to do with it, Y/N." he sighed. "You have control over your abilities, I have control over mine. The only difference between us is our personalities and I have never had any reason to fear you or dislike you. You're the kindest person I know and everyone in your life who has let you think that there was something wrong with you was terrible. And that was on them."

Your hand reached for his and you laced your fingers together. He squeezed your hand and ran his thumb over the back of it.

"I love you." The words came out of your mouth faster than you could think and you sucked in a breath, almost hoping he didn't hear you. When you glanced up at him he had a gentle smile on his face. He brought the back of your hand up to his face and kissed it before placing it against his cheek.

"I love you too, Y/N" He reached out for your waist and pulled you toward his lap, giving you plenty of time to give him a sign that you were uncomfortable. Instead, you put your leg over his waist so you were straddling his thighs. You held one of his hands in between you and fiddled with his fingers, admiring how your hands contrasted with his. Somehow, him holding your hand made it seem less out of place. You almost felt pride.

You were suddenly surrounded by warmth and shadow, the sounds of the quad around you becoming muted. You looked up around you and his wings were wrapped around the two of you, closing you off into your own little world. You felt the urge to reach out to them but you had never asked. You had never seen him let anyone touch them and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"Go ahead." your eyes snapped to his in shock.

"Warren, you never let any-"

"I want you to," he admitted and it was true. He had thought many times about asking you to run your fingers through his wings. He would never complain about it but they were a little high maintenance and also sensitive. He never let anyone touch them because most people weren't gentle or he didn't trust them. He knew though that you were the gentlest person on Earth and that he could count on you to be careful.

At his reassurance, you smiled a bit. You reached a hand out to the part of his wing next to his shoulder. You both gasped a bit when your fingers made contact. Warren was a bit surprised at how sensitive they were to your touch and it had been a long time since anyone but himself had touched them. You were entranced by how soft they were. The feathers were delicate and there were so many. You were very careful in how you moved your hand along his wing, looking at him often to see if he was uncomfortable. As you were carding your fingers through his feathers, one came out. You gasped slightly horrified that you had hurt him.

"Hey, it's okay!" he rushed out as he saw your panic. "They just sort of... shed sometimes." He almost seemed embarrassed. Feathers would come off occasionally and he would often have to brush through them himself to release all of the loose feathers, sort of like brushing your hair. He reached to pick up the feather and held it in front of you for you to take. You gladly did and you twirled it in your fingers. "Maybe sometime, if you wouldn't mind, of course, you could help me brush through them?" he asked quietly and you smiled.

"Yeah of course. They seem like they might be a lot of work." you were touched that he trusted you to do that and you thought about how hard it must be to take care of them by himself when they were so big and most of his wings were behind him.

"You should see what it's like to shower with them," he grumbled and then his eyes widened at what he had said. He hadn't meant it to be an innuendo but now he was worried he offended you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and you fell into a fit of giggles.

"I might have to take you up on that offer." Your gentle gaze made him blush. He had never felt this comfortable with anyone. This safe. He decided right then that he would do anything you ever asked of him.

After that day, you and Warren became the cutest couple at the school. You were opposites in multiple ways and your relationship was more wholesome than any of your friends could handle. You got more confident in yourself and your abilities and he allowed himself to be more vulnerable. everyone agreed that you were a match made in heaven.

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gemstone-roses · 3 years ago

Text

breathe

otto octavius x reader

summary: at the moment you can't bare to be alone with your thoughts

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, mentions of intrusive thoughts, anxiety, nightmares, exhaustion, fluff.

AN: this is an 18+ blog as is all my work including this one. likes/comments/reblogs appreciated🥺

"You look exhausted", a mug of tea appears in front of you.

"Thanks very much" you said sarcastically, you are in fact, exhausted, you were just hoping he'd be to polite to point it out.

"Are you okay" he asks with a small smile and with such kindness you feel bad for being so mean.

You take a deep breath "thankyou for the tea doctor"

"Please, call me otto". He chuckles, he gives your shoulder a squeeze before settling back into his lab work.

You sigh, leaning back into your chair and rubbing your forehead, taking a sip of the tea you immediately spit it back out

"I take it your not a fan of chamomile then" you hear otto tease

"It is soap powder in a cup and no I won't explain why I know what that tastes like" you huff.

"Sorry" you smile, really though that was kind of you to bring me tea, even if it was awful tea.

"You should go home and get some rest, take the rest of the day o-

"No!" You say a little too quickly. "I just, I gotta finish these reports or Norman's gonna have my head, or my job, probably just my job definitely my job because you know how he gets and -

Otto chuckles at your words.

"Mr Osborn is on vacation"

"So?"

"He has been for 3 weeks, and he didn't leave any instruction about your reports"

"Fuck" you huffed

"really though, are you alright?" The concern in his voice almost almost made you waver.

"I'm fine, thanks otto". He gave you a smile before returning to his work.

"Your still here?". The Concern etched into ottos voice bought you out of your daydream.

"Mm" you looked up to notice everyone else had gone home, except for you.

You rubbed your head in frustration

"Come on, why don't we go sit on something more comfortable"

"You know for a man with so much money you'd think Norman would get half decent furniture" you complained.

Otto chuckled at you again

"What?"

"Oh, nothing, you make me laugh thats all" he said.

"Sit" he said, pouring out some coffee and indicating to the couch.

He sits himself next to you and hands you a mug.

" thankyou" you smile.

"So, are you going to tell me the real reason your still here at almost midnight?"

"Im just trying to get ahead with my work" mumbled looking down, you fiddled with your sleeve

Otto grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze, causing you to look up.

"Y/n" he sighed

You gulped

"I, uhm, fuck, I just can't stop my mind from, well thinking, and i cant sleep because my stupid brain wont shut off and when i finally think im done with all these stupid thoughts im reminded of something that starts it all over again and it's just one thing after another, I keep having graphic nightmares all night long and my normal distraction methods are doing shit". You almost yelled.

You looked away from him,tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

"look at me" he tilted your head to face him.

"It's okay" he said, his eyes were so kind

The tears threatening to fall, fell and otto opened his arms for you.

You felt so safe in his arms, the kind doctor who would do anything for the people he cared about.

He held you for a while, tight, while your sobs eventually turned into sniffles

"Your coming home with me tonight"

"I am?" You sniffed

"You are" he smiled, getting up first he offers you his hand.

"Thankyou, otto". You smiled at him. Otto grabbed his coat and draped it round your shoulders.

#otto octavius x reader #doc ock x reader #spider man nwh imagine #doc ock imagine #marvel imagine #marvel hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort

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wizkiddx · 4 years ago

Note

hiii!!! omg please please pleasee do a part two of 3 hearts broken cus it fucking slaps miss girl

part 2 to 3 broken hearts!!! ive been so 🥺 at all the lovely comments+interest pt 1 had so thanku all !

summary: serious serious angst again will tom somehow get it back (unlike looking cos boy is a fool)

warnings: again lots of swearing (im British sorry not sorry) / wayyyy too much tea / slating Dom abit (obvs fictional but idk if I like the guy sorry his opinions are :/) / commitment issues

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

read part 1 here!!!!

That was three days ago now. Three days since you'd spoken to your boyfrien- well, Tom. It wasn't evident what the situation was.

The typical British weather brought with it the most ironic pathetic fallacy you could ever see. The clouds were dark and glooming, firing angry pellets of rain out as hard as they could. When you had pulled up on the roadside, it had just been a light drizzle but synchronised with your anxiety levels rising - so did the rain. When you finally opened up the car door, you threw your hoodie open with a sigh before running up the pathway to the front door.

It was the same burgundy red that you knew so well, but this time instead of just letting yourself in - you stood in the rain used the brass knocker thing twice. To be honest, you were hoping that no one was home - but in that house, it was pretty unlikely. After 30 seconds of getting drenched in the downpour, you were about to let yourself in with the spare key before the door swung open.

"Oh! Er Y/n?"

"Yeh um hi." You had to shout a bit over the sound of what must now be classified as a storm.

"Toms not-"

"I know. Can I come in?" As awkward and stunted as this conversation was, if you didn't get out of the rain asap you would literally end up drowned.

“Oh er yeh-yeh yeh come in.”

Harry stammered as he held the door open, gesturing for you to enter into the tiled hallway. Gratefully, you followed, throwing your sopping wet hood back down and wiping your feet on the floor.

"Sorry for just showing up, but I left some scripts here. My management are on my arse to read them and-"

"And you waited till Tom left for mum and dads?" The fluffy-haired boy has caught you red-handed; there was no defence, so you didn't even try.

Because yes, you knew on a Friday afternoon when Tom was home he would always, like clockwork, go to his parents just to kick back and watch gogglebox with both of them. It was only natural then that you chose Friday afternoon to come and pick up your stuff.

"I've been waiting in my car for half an hour till I saw him leave." Harry half laughed at that, still the two of you standing opposite each other in the hallway. "Um, do you… do you hate me Harry?"

Clearly, he hadn't quite been expecting your question going by the way his eyes almost bugged out his head.

"No, I-I, of course, I don't… look, I'm home alone so you fancy a cuppa?" Not being able to help the small chuckle, you nodded appreciatively, following Harry through the house.

"Your answer to everything is tea."

Harry had prepared the two mugs in silence as you sat at the table waiting patiently - if nervously too. You didn't miss how Harry had still used your favourite mug, having had to dig through the cupboard to find the weird square-shaped thing. Once done, he rounded the kitchen island and placed it in front of you, which you instantly cradled in two hands - for the hope of warming you up.

"You cold?" Obviously, it was pretty evident that sitting in your rain-soaked hoodie was not cosy at all. "Hang on a sec."

The boy sprung up again, returning moments later with a hoodie in hand, one he offered out to you with a little smile. The issue was that him and Tom shared clothes, so the hoodie he was kindly offering to you also had been worn by Tom before. Which made it hurt a little bit to wear. It was better than sitting soaked through though.

"How have you been then?"

"Not the best, to be honest, but uh… how about you?"

"Being with Tom while he's fighting with you? Oh, it's a barrel of laughs. You might've escaped it, but I haven't." He was trying to lighten the mood, and you appreciated it, offering him a half-smile that didn't really meet your eyes.

"Yeh sorry about that."

"Don't apologise; it doesn't sound like it's your fault Y/n."

That surprised you. Tom, especially when he was in moods like he was when you argued, wasn't one to admit when he was wrong. It was usually how the world was against him and how he was so hard done by. Accepting responsibility was something he hadn't said to you yet - but at least, small steps.

"He say that?"

"Pretty much… doesn't seem like he's angry at you, but-but he's still angry."

"At the world?" You rolled your eyes; this seemed to be the same old Tom through and through. Still immature. Still not with the right mindset.

"At himself." Harry countered, slightly entertained, when he saw the flash of surprise in your face as he sipped his drink. "And me… if I dare to so much as breathe this week."

This time you properly laughed, and Harry joined in too before the room fell back to silence - except the noise of the rain hitting the garden patio slats. You swirled the tea round in your mug, feeling the brunette's eyes on you. He'd always been your fake little brother too, since you'd met the Hollands way back 3 and a half years ago. Tom and yourself were barely adults, which meant the twins were still proper children. Harry had always been the one that understood you. Hollands, by nature, loved humans - loved to talk, to chat, to gossip. But sometimes, doing all that socialising got too much for you, as it did for Harry. He was the only one that seemed to understand social exhaustion. So when those moments had hit, you'd kept each other company in silence.

He got you, sometimes in ways your own boyfriend didn't.

"You know why he got so worked up, right?" You shook your head, looking up curiously. "Dad got under his skin on his birthday zoom thing."

Ah, now that did seem to coincide with the start of Tom's more petulant phase. To be fair, Tom had been asking to move in together for near enough a year now - but it was only in the past month it seemed to be the only thing you'd talk about and obviously only three days since the flight back. Dom's birthday barely a week ago, whilst you and Tom were both filming - except Tom had managed to get a day off where you hadn't. So you hadn't heard this conversation.

"What'd he say?"

"Was talking about how he and mum were settling down at Toms age, joked about how you rejected him, said maybe you were holding out for something better."

"Something better?" Harry sighed, leaning forward onto his elbows.

"He'd seen an article just off a trashy tabloid… it named you Hollywood's golden girl or something, said you could have the pick of any person on the planet…"

Of all the people in the world, why is Tom affected by shit journalism? He knows how much bullshit people write. He knows how it's all made up, exaggerated nonsense. And what he should know, completely and totally, is how much you love him. And if he didn't, was that your fault? Had you done something wrong, something to make him doubt you?

Harry seemed to notice the internal dialogue going on in your head, adding to the point. "It wasn't the article though, it was the fact dad said it."

Hmmm.

You and Dom got on; it wasn't like you hated the possible future father in law or whatever. Just…. you had very different outlooks. As much as Tom prided himself on how' grounded his family keeps him' -to you at least, they aren't entirely at sea level either. They'd never really had any particular struggles in life. They were the definition of middle class, and that's about it. They lived in a posh suburb of London, had all their family still around. It was the perfect family.

And whilst you were in no illusions about how privileged your life was now. It hadn't always been. You'd never had the 'nuclear' family. Instead, only your dad and a string of dodgy and fleeting stepmothers while struggling to make ends meet. So you were just always wary of Dom, of his opinions that so often his boys took for gospel. They always seemed pretty sheltered and close-minded.

And yet, Tom was a grown man.

"I get that, I just… Tom should know that we know more about our relationship than his dad. I mean,… have I done something wrong? Made him think I'm not in this for the long haul?"

"No nonono Y/n he's just… well he's an idiot, isn't he? I don't think he properly understands why you're cautious about moving and everything. He's just an idio- "

Harry was cut off for lightly insulting his brother by the sound of the front door opening, both of your heads swivelling towards the source. You then met Harry's eyes in a panic, to which he replied relatively simply.

"Just talk to each other. For my sake." You would've argued if it weren't for the fact you were so focused on Tom's shuffling around in the entrance hallway - back early from his parents.

"Baz? Where you at? I thought I saw Y/n's car and-"

"Kitchen!!!" Before Tom could say anything else, possibly landing himself in more trouble, Harry interrupted as his chair screeched while standing up. And then Tom was just there. Standing in the doorway, his arms dropping limply to his side as he noticed you. Everything about that moment seemed to freeze, when you locked eyes with him for the first time in three days. It didn't go unnoticed, the way his Adams apple bobbed, the way his eyes widen. The boy looked plain and simply terrified.

It was Harry who broke the silence, after giving you a stern look that said 'stay'. The younger Holland boy walked up to Tom and spoke.

"Try actually talking and actually listening about your problems with each other." And then he was gone, down the hallway and up the stairs.

For a few moments, Tom stayed absolutely stationary, now staring at where Harry had been when speaking to the both of you (but mainly Tom). Long enough to put your sense of unease at an all-time high, ready to make a break for it.

"If you don't want to talk, then I can leav-"

"NO!" Apparently snapping out of it, Tom exclaimed loud enough to make you flinch from your seat. "Sorry! I-I just… I wasn't expecting to… you know, to see you."

"Yeh I just uh- just came to pick up some scripts… Harry cornered me with a tea, though; otherwise, I'd be…."

"Baz thinks the whole world could be fixed with tea."

"that's what I said!" You instinctively responded, forgetting the fact you're supposed to be mad at him, and just for a second falling back into your normal flow.

Tom didn't even try to hide his grin in response, until you quickly corrected your face- then he did too. Turning around to put the kettle on for himself. Because right now, he needed to fix his whole world, and he needed all the help he could get. For a period, the only noise was the sound of the kettle boiling, then the teaspoon clinking against the mug as he stirred - until he padded over, taking the seat across from you.

"So."

"It's been a while," Tom stated the bloody obvious.

"You never called."

"Didn't think you'd want me to."

You thought that the early signs weren't all that auspicious. His ability to read a situation once again failing.

"I wanted you to say something."

"Say what?"

"What do you think Tom?" He replied to the sarcastic tone by sucking in a sharp breath, holding it for a second, before slowly exhaling. As if trying to compose himself, take time to think of a response - a mature move for him.

"Well, I think you want me to say sorry? For being so moody and not waiting for you and for upsetting those kids. And thanks too, for covering for me?"

You just hummed. Waiting for him to continue. Because yes, you did deserve all those things. But you also deserved more. An apology for, oh I don't know, saying he didn't think you loved him? It was a wait that never ended, he had nothing more to add.

"Going by your face, I take it I missed something?"

The bloody cheek of it.

"Theres nothing else? Nothing else at all? …" You gave him that chance, the opportunity but all he could respond with was a shake of his head. "You thought I was fine about you saying that I don't love you?" You hadn't intended on raising your voice, but really you hadn't realised you did till after the fact. To blinded by rage at his ignorance.

"You want to talk about this now?"

"When else Tom?" You sighed, realising he perhaps wasn't ready for this conversation. Maybe he needed more time to think things through, have sense talked into him by various wiser family members. Or maybe, he never would be. That was the worst-case scenario. But also… you're most likely prediction.

He shuffled in his seat, clearing his voice but not saying anything. Not a peep.

"I have spent three years of my life with you. I've had countless nights of too little sleep because that was the only time you could facetime. I've exposed my relationship to the world and people's opinions because you didn't want to hide. All I've done is love you. How could you even say that?" There might've been tears in your eyes, yet you were determined to keep them at bay. You needed to have this out, one way or another, to be clear and cohesive and logical. No time to cry.

"Y/n I know that, I…" He sighed, instinctively reaching for your hand, but you were quicker to pull it away. There was hurt in his eyes, but so there should be. "It just sometimes feels like that's it for you. That yeh you love me but you just want to standstill. That this is as much as it'll ever be."

Your emotions were suddenly uncontainable. Your voice croaked as you whispered, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No love, nonono if that's how you feel then that's okay. But it's something I'm not… shit this is hard." He took a pause to take a sip of his drink, your glazed eyes never leaving his. "I don't think I can stand still anymore. And yeh I was pissy and childish the other day because my dad got under my skin about the whole moving in thing… But these past few days, it just has got me thinking. Because I love you, so much."

This time when he reached out to grab your hand, you actually leaned into it yourself. Not because you were giving in, but because this hurt. This hurt so fucking much that you needed something to ground you, or else god knows. Because the way he was speaking, it sounded so finite.

"I love you too."

"I do know, which is…is why this is so hard." At the very least, Tom had conceded that.

The conversation ceased to silence yet again. The room felt so cold; even Tom/Harry's hoodie was doing nothing to keep you from the endless empty cold that seemed to be coming from within.

"When I re-registered my health card last month, and I made you my emergency contact on it. I-I made you my next of kin on everything actually. I didn't think about it twice. And-and this-"You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, immediately pulling up the app onto the open page. "This is my Pinterest board for our baby's nursery theme. I know-" You paused, to quickly wipe your cheeks clear of the tear tracks that may or may not have been there. "I know it's probably a long way away, but I just love the Scandinavian theme." You laughed at yourself, suddenly embarrassed at your blabbering and quickly pulled up a different app. "And this… this was from the other week when I was helping Y/bf/n start her vows." Hands trembling as you turned the phone around for Tom to see again. "She was finding it really tricky so she said, what would you say to Tom on your wedding, so-so I made this list." You only dared to look at him when you were sure he'd be reading through that note.

It was bizarre because he looked… well, he looked happy. Here you were feeling traumatised, showing things that you'd barely even deeped how committed they were - and he was pleased? Feeling the fire burn once again inside of your chest, you quickly swiped the phone away and back into your pocket. Only then did he look up, eyes widening - presumably at quite how psychotic you looked.

"So don't you dare say that I don't want a future with you."

You said it with such force, there was a pause. Tom letting those words sink deep into his brain. The way his expression flickered minutely gave you hope. You thought he got it. You thought he really understood now.

"But why don't you want to move in then?"

There it was again. He knew why. But he didn't get it. And, probably, he never would.

You were about to crash completely. So you ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even aware of your chair crashing to the floor in your wake. You ran out of that house and away from him. Away from who you had thought was the love of your life.

?give tom a final chance w one last part?

feedback is always v v appreciated <3

tom taglist : @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08

people i think might be interestd in this (sorry if not just let me know and i'll remove the tag!!!): @obiwanownsmyass @wildxwidow @parkersvogue @coffeewithoutcaffeine @tomhollandlol @thefallenbibliophilequote @clumsymandu @hiraethenthusiast @mannien @abrielleholland @evermorehabit @niallberry @greatpizzascissorstaco @runawayolives @annathesillyfriend @letsgotothemoonlight @lovelybarnes

#tom x reader #tom holland fic #tomholland #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #famous!reader #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x actress!reader #harry holland

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somnambulants · 4 years ago

Note

i love your writing!! could you maybe do something with exes to lovers with nat?

word count: 3.9K notes: thanks for the request! i’m glad you like my writing! i also may...have started thinking about writing a second part because im super attached to this fic. let me know if thats something you guys would be interested in!

“Barton, you’re such a –“

Your world stops turning at the sound of that voice, everything else becoming static. It doesn’t matter that you’re standing in a room full of people that you’re supposed to be impressing.

It’s been over ten years since you’d last heard that voice.

Vaguely, you know that Captain America is speaking to you but the only thing you can pay attention to is her.

You turn slowly, and the second you lay eyes on her you know for sure.

It’s definitely her.

You see it the second she spots you too.

In all the time you’d known her, she’d always been so much more proficient at hiding things than you but you still see the way her eyes widen as she takes you in and the way her face shifts into something that resembles shock before she manages to mask it.

“Nat!”

You startle a little, having now somehow completely forgotten that Captain America was next to you and that you were in the middle of a tour of your new workplace the second you’d landed eyes on her.

Oh god.Your new workplace.

Your new workplace that was also clearly her workplace.

As she approaches, you futilely look for every possible way you can escape. “This is Y/N. Fury’s informant while Agent Emery is on reconnaissance. Y/N this is Natasha Romanoff.”

Natasha? Romanoff? Absurdly, you have the sudden urge to laugh.

She really couldn’t have come up with a better name after fleeing the country all those years ago? It’s a surprise to you that you hadn’t heard about her sooner with that alias.

Pushing that thought away and hoping that your face shows the professionalism you’re trying to convey, you straighten your spine and clear your throat. “Nice to meet you.”

Captain America’s eyes flick between the both of you. Maybe you’re not doing as good a job as you’d thought.

Natalia-Natasha takes the hand you extend to her and shakes it. “Likewise,” she says, and you hate the way your body still reacts to her voice all these years later; hate the way her touch still makes you feel.

Even more so, you hate that you don’t know what it is you’re feeling more of as you look into her eyes: fury or heartbreak.

She makes a flimsy –well flimsy to you – excuse and leaves the conversation after that. You watch her walk away, clenching the hand she’d touched into a fist as you resist the urge to put it through the wall next to you.

Somehow you think you’d have a hard time explaining it to the man still standing next to you, who is now watching you with a thoughtfully puzzled but not suspicious expression.

Not yet, anyway.

Your dreams that night are fitful and full of her. The first time you’d met, you’d been nothing more than children.

There are no children in red room though. Only fighters and a fighter, she definitely was.

You? Not so much. You’d never been designed to last more than a day in that place and you wouldn’t have, if not for her.

Natalia throws you back against the mat, again and then again and again. Each time you stand up with more difficulty until eventually, she throws you down so hard your vision blurs for a second.

You never had a chance against her, something you knew before you even stepped foot into the room and you know they must have known that too when they set you up against the most experienced fighter here.

It’s abundantly clear you’ve been set up to fail.

The next time she hits you, your legs give out beneath you and you can’t bring yourself to get up this time, even though you know what’s going to happen to you if you don’t.

You know how this works.

Bracing yourself for impact, you close your eyes and wait. It’s pathetic. You know.

The final blow never comes. When you finally crack open an eye, you find Natalia, arms crossed, just gazing down at you.

It might have been your imagination but her eyes don’t seem quite as hard as they had been before.

She extends a hand after a second of her just watching you and you watching her. A little part of you is convinced it’s a trick; that the second you take her hand, you’re going to fail whatever test this is.

Still, against your better judgement you take her hand and, rather than the macabre images playing out in your mind, instead she actually helps you stand, surprisingly gentle as she does so.

She gives you a second to reorient yourself and then her whole demeanour changes, turning cold and stiff as she crouches down back into a fighting position.

“Try again.”

Just as abruptly, you’re thrown into another and another. Quick flashes of the past that still haunt you.

Natalia taking you on your first mission.

Natalia holding your hand as you cried over the body of the first man you’d killed.

Natalia lying beside you on your mattress, running her hands through your hair gently when your nightmares became so bad you’d go days without sleeping.

Years and years of training. Years of bruises and broken bones. Mission after mission. Somehow, it’s all maybe not-quite worth it but it almost is – almost – because of her.

When you kiss her for the first time, you think that might be the first time either of you has had any control over what you do with your bodies.

You can't remember a time where you'd had something you'd ever wanted and you wanted her so badly.

You can’t get enough of it. Or her.

And then, one day, you wake up and she’s just... gone.

The next morning, feeling irritable and exhausted from your disturbed sleep, you walk into the avengers training room and find the one person you’d been hoping wouldn’t be there.

Of course, your mind spitefully whispers because of course it wasn’t enough for the universe to thrust her back into your life but it had to throw her in your face too.

When you enter, she has her back to you but you know she knows you’re there by the way her back stiffens slightly.

You watch as she stands up straighter at the words you throw at her back, unable to help yourself: “What is this? Babysitting duty? I think we’re passed that, aren’t we?”

She turns to you. “I usually come here early,” is all she says. She doesn’t respond to the bite in your voice.

You make a non-committal sound and then just decide to ignore her, stomping past her to make your way to the far corner of the room. You work by yourself in peace for about ten minutes before you hear the sound of footsteps and all of a sudden she’s in front of you.

“I need a partner,” she says.

You have the urge to laugh in her face, before it strikes you how cathartic it would be to punch her right now, no matter how childish it might be, so you stand, letting the weight you’d been holding drop back to the floor with a loud thud, and follow her across the room.

You both crouch down in anticipation and you take a second to really look at her.

Her expression is unreadable. The pang you feel when you realise that surprises you.

There had been a time when you’d known her like the back of your hand and now she's nothing more than a stranger standing in front of you.

It hurts a lot more than you’d thought it would.

This continues for weeks. You don’t know why you let it happen but you do. You get up early; you go to the gym; you spar with her and then you fulfil the duties you’d been hired to do.

It’s almost easy to slip back into that headspace of your whole life revolving around her. Because it does. All you do is think about her when you’re not around her.

Over those weeks, you still barely speak a word to her because at least if you don’t speak, you have some kind of power.

To your surprise, she lets you ignore her, lets you pretend you don’t hear her whenever she speaks and you resent her a little more for that. You’d rather she hated you as much as you want to hate her.

It would make it all so much easier.

Eventually, though, you break.

You’re not strong enough to ignore your desire to know everything; to know how she’d ended up here. And why she’d clearly cared enough to stick around and try and save the entire world when you, a single person, hadn’t even been worth enough for her to stay.

“Why,” you pant, mid spar one morning. She’s kicking your ass, as usual. “Why here? Why the avengers?”

You’d sworn to yourself you’d never ask her this question but the yearning to know has been burning inside you since you’d walked into this building over a month ago now.

Equally as breathless, Natasha drops the careful façade she’d had up and looks at you with those eyes; the ones that could have made you do anything at one point in time. You’re not convinced they still couldn’t. “I wanted to do better… be better than what we were…. Isn’t that why you’re here, too?”

That answer hurts you more than any of the hits she’s landed on you this morning. And there’s been a lot. She’s still the superior fighter, even if she had left so long before you.

God, those words hurt to hear. Especially to have you lumped in with the clearly bad part of her life, whether it was her intention or not.

Maybe that’s why you say what you say next. Maybe there’s a little part of you wishes this whole situation would hurt her as much as it hurts you.

“How… uncharacteristic of you,” you ignore the last part of her sentence because honestly: you don’t know why you’re here. You feel like you’ve been lost and drifting your whole life and the only thing that had ever made sense to you was her.

You know your bitterness has bled into your voice with your words but you don’t make any effort to mask it. And if you can hear it, she definitely can too.

In the blink of an eye, she stops sparring with you, straightening up quicker than even you can catch. You let out a breathless huff of air as she grabs the front of your shirt pulling it so you’re forced forward until you’re almost nose to nose with her.

You hate that for a split second, before you can control yourself, you lean in slightly. As much as your mind can’t stand her, your body has no such feelings and it still wants her. You know you have no hope of hiding it from her so you don’t even bother.

“You don’t know me,” she says. The words come out of her mouth fiercely but the look in her eyes is soft, beseeching, like she wants you to hear her. “I'm not that person anymore.”

Like it matters.

It’s like you’re suspended in time for a second, and all you can think of as you look into her eyes is of the woman you knew.

You hate that you still miss her.

There’s a flicker of something in her eyes that you want to believe mirrors the torrent of emotions currently taking over you – the sadness, the anger, the grief – but you know better than to have hope when it comes to her.

You know all too well how it ends. And you’ve had enough of false hope.

Typically, in a fight, you know Natasha would come out on top – has every time -- but she’s never had your anger directed at her the way it is now and she isn’t expecting the way you’re practically vibrating with it as you shove her away, so hard that she stumbles backwards, only just managing to stay on her feet.

“Clearly,” you spit at her as you straighten up, and start walking towards the exit.

You know she’s still just standing there in the same spot. You can feel her eyes on you.“Yeah, run away,” she mutters under her breath.

It’s the first time she’s shown you the attitude you’d been giving her for weeks and her reaction is justified, you can admit it, but you don’t care.

You spin around, fury overtaking you as you advance on her until you’re pinning her against the wall behind her. “Sorry,” you hiss, glaring into her eyes. “I forgot you’re the only one who can do that.”

“That was different.”

You laugh. It’s not a nice one. It sounds like an injured animal trying to claw it’s way out of your throat.

“Why? Because it was you doing it? Excuse me for not being —“

All of a sudden, she’s kissing you. Or you’re kissing her.

Either way, you’re kissing and you don’t know how exactly it happened but you know that you can’t get enough of her; can’t get her close enough even though there’s no longer even an inch of space between you.

She flips your positions, tugging you closer, and you’re abruptly bathed in cool air as she rips your shirt off you, shoving you against the wall.

Your heart picks up rapidly as she kneels in front of you, easing the rest of your clothes off in one fluid moment.

“I hate you. So much,” you tell her as you step out of your pants and it’s not convincing even to you. Still, you repeat it again and again as she kisses down your body – so tenderly and gently that your voice starts to wobble.

You hate it. You hate her.

She looks up at you from in between your legs, now on her knees. It’s such a vulnerable position that you find you can’t look at her and you have to close your eyes. Natasha digs her nails into your thighs as she forces them apart.

“Look at me,” she demands. Her grip tightens until you obey; you know you’re going have crescent shaped bruises tomorrow. Her gaze is soft and tender and just all consuming. You know there’s no coming back from it. You’d never had a chance, even back when you didn’t mind not having one. “Don’t look away.”

You don’t, not even when she finally, finally, touches you and your head falls back against the wall.

You hold her gaze the entire time knowing how incredibly stupid this is and not caring at all about how much you’ll regret it later when you’re thinking straight.

And regret it, you do.

You stop working out early. You walk the other way in the halls if you see her. You know people are catching on that something is going on between the both of you; have caught multiple avengers giving you quizzical looks whenever you’re in the same room and it makes you feel even worse than before.

You channel all that regret into something more meaningful and commit to doing a damn good job at what you were actually here for. And you do. You can admit you do a fantastic job.

Every time you hand a report in or come back from a mission, you swear see a glimmer of approval in Fury’s eyes. Something you’d heard was notoriously hard to come by.

You must have done something really shitty in a past life though because after weeks of throwing yourself into your temporary duties, you walk into your temporarily office and are immediately flagged down by Fury, who debriefs you on the details of a mission he’s sending you on.

You’re thrilled for about three seconds until you see the name of the person you’re going with.

Agent Natasha Romanoff.

Fury is looking at you with a scrutinising expression when you look up from the file. Every time he looks at you it’s like he can see inside your soul. “Is that a problem?”

You grit your teeth and force yourself to smile. “Of course not, sir.”

It is a problem. A big problem, in fact.

You don’t speak to her on the flight there. Even though it’s only the two of you confined in the aircraft. You don’t even so much let yourself look at her. You can feel her looking at you multiple times, though, even though she’s piloting and should only be looking at the course in front of you.

There are no words exchanged between you all day beyond the times you absolutely have to speak.

At least not until you reach the tiny hotel room you’d been given.

The second the door closes behind you both, she turns to you and opens her mouth and maybe it’s cowardly but you cut her off before she even start speaking.

“I’m going to have a shower,” you say and flee the room with your entire carry-on, worried that if you pause to sift through your things, she’ll keep talking.

Still in the same spot, the look on Natasha’s face when you emerge from the bathroom is full of clear exhaustion. You hate the way it makes you feel. Empty. Sad. It’s exhausting for you trying to convince yourself you hate her.

“I’m sorry I left,” she says and you freeze. “I wanted to come back. Find you. I just didn’t know - i didn’t know if you even wanted me to.”

You’ve wanted to hear those words for so long. Now you have you don’t know what to do. “Why did you leave?”

She hesitates. The look in her eyes tells you you’re not going to get a full answer. That as open as she’s trying to be, you still don’t get to know why she abandoned you. “It’s a long story.”

The evasion stings. “An apology means nothing if you won’t tell me why.”

It’s an unfair thing to say. You know that but you don’t really feel like being fair right now.

You chance a look up when she doesn’t respond and find her looking down at the floor. It makes you wonder what — or who — she must still be protecting by not telling you.

It becomes apparent that she’s not going to say anything else after the silence between you drags on long enough that the tension in the air becomes almost unbearable.

You don’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing the tears in your eyes so you flick the light off and turn the lamp on your shared nightstand off, throwing the both of you into immediate darkness. It’s definitely too early to be sleeping but you don’t care.

Eventually, after laying there rigidly for what feels like hours and listening to the sounds of Natasha tossing and turning in the other bed, you finally fall asleep and are immediately thrown into dream after dream that quickly turn into fitful nightmares.

Nightmares that may be more aptly called memories. After one particularly bad one that thrusts you back into consciousness, you bolt upwards, still half asleep.

You only narrowly manage to avoid bumping straight into Natasha, who’s hovering above you, because of her hand on your shoulder holding you in place.

You flinch away from her instinctively and she backs up to give you a little space.

The only sound in the room is your heavy and desperate gasping for air. Natasha, now perched on the very edge of the bed, bites her lip, looking at you as if she knows exactly what you’d been dreaming about.

She probably does. It doesn’t take a genius to guess.

“Are you –"

“I’m fine,” you say flatly. You stare up at the ceiling, absently counting the tiles as you try to slow your breathing.

You’re hyperventilating, you know it, you just can’t get yourself to stop. You’re also sweating, it’s disgusting. You can feel how all of your clothes are stuck to you. Your hair flattened to your neck.

If you hadn’t been dealing with this for so long, you’re pretty sure that you’d think you were having a heart attack instead of a panic attack.

But you have. Been dealing with it. It’s just something you’ve come to expect now. You just never thought she’d be here to witness it.

All of a sudden, as you’re still trying to calm your breathing, the bed dips below you.

Your eyes fly open in shock to find Natasha sliding onto the mattress beside you, still on top of the covers.

Gingerly, she rests her head on the pillow next to your head and fixes her gaze on the ceiling.

It’s slight but her hand brushes against your own a few minutes later.

You suck in a breath between your teeth, but despite yourself, you let her move closer, until she’s so close you’re almost touching, and you can hear her quiet breathing.

Against your better judgement, you let your eyes slip closed again. Seeming to understand you’re not going to push her away, Natasha shifts closer, until you’re both shoulder to shoulder, the way she used to lay next to you when you had bad dreams when you were kids.

She grabs your hand, and slowly, hesitantly, she moves it to her chest where you can feel her heart thrumming rapidly under your fingertips. Surprisingly, it still works; you breathe in and out, in out in out, in time with her heartbeat.

You must at some point fall asleep because all of a sudden you can hear birds chirping outside the window and the sounds of people outside in the street.

When you open your eyes, you expect to find the spot next to you empty and the covers unruffled, as if she’d never been there at all but to your shock she’s still there beside you, awake and on top of the covers.

The circles under her eyes make you think she must not have slept at all.

You slide out of the bed and head towards the bathroom without saying a word, where you turn the shower on and just sit under the spray for what must be at least an hour, letting the water run over you and trying not to think.

This time when you return, she’s gone.

The rest of the mission goes smoothly. If nothing else, you both work well together as a team. You can still read her movements like a book, and she knows to anticipate what you’re doing before you even know yourself.

The days go fine. The nights not so much. You don’t speak about it but every night you’re woken up by the same dreams and every night you wake up to find her kneeling beside you.

If you were stronger willed, you would’ve shoved her away the first time, but you can’t bring yourself to. Maybe it’s a little selfish but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

The last night of the mission is when you finally break, though. Something shifts in the air when you wake yourself up gasping and meet her eyes. The same eyes that had been blank and lifeless in your dream.

You know she feels the shift as well by the way she’s looking at you, cautiously hopeful.

You don’t say anything though and neither does she. You just lay there, side by side, and watch each other carefully for what could be seconds, or it could be hours.

Her eyes are begging wordlessly: Truce?

Despite yourself, as you gaze back at her, you find yourself giving in. For tonight at least.

Truce.

#natasha romanoff x reader

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rommahh · 4 years ago

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I Carry Your Heart

Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 4k

{Ahhhh ok so this is my first work like ever. There will definitely be a second part because ive got more to say and it needs a second part. I hope whoever sees and reads this imagine enjoys it. I appreciate comments, likes, reblogs, ideas on what could go into the story, and any form of help and redirection as to how i should write things. Much love, R.}.

Part two

All Y/N wanted tonight was to hang out with her boyfriend, eat a mass amount of junk food, and watch a marvel movie or two. That was all she wanted and that was all she asked of her boyfriend. Instead of any of that happening, she found herself sitting on the nasty kitchen island of her boyfriend's frat at a party that she was trying to avoid going to.

This party was supposedly ‘the party of the year.’ The last rager before finals and then christmas break. Y/N had spent the whole week studying and finishing up end of semester projects hence the want for a chill night. When Harry came to her saying his frat was throwing a party tonight and that he just HAD to be here, Y/N didn't feel like she had a choice but to let him go. She came because she thought this would be the only time she would be able to have some time with Harry after a long week of barely seeing each other. With two vastly different majors, the couple wasnt able to find a lot of time in the middle of school work to make time for just the two of them. Obviously her hopes of quality time with her man were futile because here she was sitting by herself in the kitchen of the frat while Harry drank and got high with his friends in other parts of the house.

Of course she was disappointed. She felt a knot in her throat and a weight on her chest just sitting there in that kitchen. Her white claw was warm now- not that it was any cold when she opened it. She was starting to form a small headache from the too loud music and the ache in her heart was growing.

She stood from the countertop on the search for her boyfriend, hoping he wasn't too far gone from sober. Wiping the back of her jeans from anything that was left on the island, she began walking around the house. She doesn't remember the last time the two of them spent time together by themselves. Of course they occasionally ate dinner together in the dining hall but they were normally surrounded by friends. Y/N wanted to be alone with her boyfriend to talk and bask in his presence.

After pushing through groups of partying humans, she found Harry and at least ten other people sitting around playing some sort of drinking game.

“Y/N! Where have you been?” Luca, one of Harry's frat brothers yelled out to her from the circle. Luca was cool, he was one of the only tolerable boys in this frat aside from Harry. Hearing his girlfriend's name, Harry turned around from where he sat on the ground and reached out for his girlfriend to sit beside him. Much to Y/N’s dismay, Harry was wasted. His eyes were half mass and his words bumped and slurred together. “We are playing truth or dare, wanna play?” Luca asked.

“I don't wanna play but Ill sit and watch.” Sitting next to her boyfriend, she grabbed one of his hands holding it in her lap. She was annoyed at him but it did her no good to show it when he was this drunk.

This game of truth or dare was childish. Dares of licking people's shoes and taking multiple shots had been done and truths about money and relationships were being spilled among the group. It had finally become Harry’s turn to do something, making Y/N tense.

“Ok Harry, I dare you to…” One drunk frat boy started looking around the room trying to come up with something clever. His eyes landed on a pretty girl in the room, Yara, a stuck up girl who for sure got her way no matter what. “I dare you to kiss the hottest girl in the room- obviously not your girlfriend because that defeats the purpose.” The frat boy smirked knowing what his intentions were. Everyone in the group giggles and gasped shocked by the dare but ready to see what was going to go down. Y/N’s brows furrowed as she became angry with the stupid dare.

The ache in her chest seemed to tip over the edge when she felt her boyfriend in the room move to stand up. She grabbed at the bottom of his shirt as a way of stopping him. Harry halted his movements to look down at his girlfriend. He giggled a little.

“You’re not actually going to do this right?” She asked Harry with wide eyes of shock. Harry laughed at her like she made a joke, making her heart hurt even more.”Harry I do not want you to do this just take the shot and lose the dare.” Her tone held warning.

“Don't be silly of course I'm going to. It's just a dare, nothing serious. Don't be so clingy.” He stood walking over to Yara and planted a wet kiss on her mouth. Yara gripped Harry’s shirt and kissed him harder. The kiss went on for a few more seconds, the room absolutely silent out of shock. Harry stepped back from Yara slightly sobering up from his actions. Yara smirked at Y/N, hand gliding down the front of Harry's shirt.

Y/N stood from the seat she was in and scoffed. Scoffed because she should've known Harry would do something like this. Scoffed because it hurt to see her boyfriend do something so careless without any regard for his girl's feelings. She pulled herself together, feeling her throat tighten once again. She was quick to leave the room and down the hall of the frat.

Harry's clumsy steps could be heard from behind her as he mumbled her name. Or at least he tried to. He was still so out of it, his words not making much sense. Y/N was crying now, the strength that she had slowly dissolving as she walked further away from her boyfriend.

“Y/N wait. P-please wait. I cant-” Harry stumbled over his legs behind her falling into the grass of the front yard. The girl couldn't help but turn around looking at her stupid boyfriend. She was choking on sobs now. She wasn't crying over a measly little kiss but over an extreme amount of burnout from school and exhaustion from simply existing. She was crying because her boyfriend ignored her boundaries, crushing and erasing the boundaries she had set in their relationship. Harry tried reaching for her once she had stopped walking. His hand clasped around her wrist, he laid his head down on her shoulder. He hated seeing her cry even if he was too drunk to see why.

“Baby don't leave, Im-Im Sorry.” He hiccuped and burped due to the alcohol. Y/N felt her rage build. Shoving Harry off of her, she crossed her arms across her chest as a way to shield herself from Harry physically. He was hurt by her distance and the wall she put up around her.

“You're an idiot Harry. An idiot!” her sobs grew louder, some stray party goers watching in amusement- some even snapchatting it for shits and giggles. “I didnt want you to kiss her and you did. What provoked you to think that was ok? All I wanted was for us to hang out tonight and just be us and you did this!” She was yelling now. Her hurt is beyond her now. Anger and rage simmered throughout her body making her head dizzy and her fingers curl within themselves. She didnt like being angry. It wasn't an emotion she liked acting on, it felt impersonal.

“Baby I don't under-” Before Harry could finish his sentence he was barfing at his feet. Y/N stepped back disgusted with her boyfriend. She couldn't even feel remorseful because of how angry she was. Luca, the frat brother from earlier, caught up with Harry and his girl only to find Harry doubled over heaving. Luca wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders.

“I'm sorry Luca but I can't do this tonight. Can you please make sure he gets some water and goes to bed. I-I can't do it tonight, I wish I could but I can't.” Y/N didn't want to leave her boyfriend in this state but she didn't deserve this. She wasn't going to care for her drunk boyfriend when all she wanted to do was care for herself. Selfishly, she enjoyed seeing him this way because of the anger he caused her.

Luca shook his head in understandment. “Of course, I'm really sorry for tonight. He's going to seriously regret this in the morning, especially since it will be circulating all over snapchat in the morning.” Luca waved to Y/N then proceeded to pull Harry into the house. Harry called out for Y/N not wanting to be away from her but Luca pulled him harder.

Harry woke up the next morning feeling like the bottom of a dumpster. He wasn't shocked by that. He knew he got trashed last night, he had planned to. He, just like Y/N, spent all week studying and completing projects while also fulfilling certain responsibilities for his frat. He wanted one night to be a normal teen. So he drank and drank and drank and maybe even smoked some weed. As he tried to recall last night's events he came up with nothing. He didn't understand why Y/N wasn't here with him like she normally would after a party on the weekend. They were normally always together during the weekend. A bad feeling loomed over him. He could tell something wasn't right but decided to put his feelings to the side.

He saw a bottle of water beside his bed making him think she was probably here and left early. Chugging the water he started to go through his socials to see if anyone had posted about the party. He had multiple tagged pics and videos in his notifications from snapchat. Way more than he normally would.

The first video he saw was a video of him and Y/N standing in the front yard of the frat house. Turning the volume all the way up he could hear Y/N yelling, it shocked him. She doesn't normally raise her voice, especially not at him. The angle changed showing her face which was red with anger, eyes filled with unshed tears. He could hear her yelling about him kissing someone else. He felt his heart stop. He had kissed someone else? On the next snap was a picture of him keeled over vomiting on his shoes with the caption saying, ‘are yall seeing this shit?’ Harry was embarrassed but he was more concerned than anything.

His head was hurting but it didn't stop him from rolling out of bed, washing up, and putting on a fresh set of clothes. He checked his phone hoping Y/N had messaged him but nothing was there. He walked into the kitchen only to see luca sitting at the counter eating cereal.

“Hey Harry….” Luca said warily. Luca pushed the cereal around his bowl feeling the tension begin to rise in the room. He felt horrible about his friends.

“Luca...what's up?” Harry was confused by Lucas' wariness.

“So do you remember anything about last night?” Luca asked, setting his cereal down in the sink behind him. Harry started playing with the frayed edges of a bracelet Y/N made for him. It had little beads with her name on it. They made them together at an event on campus.

“I don't, I only saw the videos of Y/N screaming at me. I think I fucked up but I- I don't know what happened.” Harry's cheek flushed with even more embarrassment. Luca awkwardly chuckled scratching the back of his neck.

“You got dared to kiss the hottest girl in the room and um actually did it in front of Y/N...even though she didn't want you to. Which led you guys outside and yeah you know the rest...Im sorry dude, I wish I had stopped you.”

“Who- who did I kiss?” Harrys stomach lurched when he heard Yara’s name come out of Lucas' name. Y/N didn't like Yara and it was understandable. Yara has been pining after Harry since their first year of college. Harry couldn't breathe. He felt disgusted with himself. He could only imagine how Y/N was feeling.

Y/N woke up the same morning, eyes puffy and crusty from tears and head hurting. She probably cried herself into dehydration. She was lucky enough to have no roommate because she wouldn't have wanted someone else to see her breakdown. She still couldn't believe last night went down the way it went down. She couldn't tell if she was just being overdramatic or if her emotions were in the right place. She didn't want to be mad at Harry. He was everything to her, she had an odd connection to him. Meeting him during their freshman welcome week they quickly became best friends with a growing romantic connection in the mix. They started dating before Christmas break. They had grown close so fast that he even came home with her to meet her family for the first few days of break. Even though they were in their junior year of college, Y/N could see them beyond college. She's imagined them getting married, travelling, sharing a home. She saw the whole future with him. She had her doubts though. He was immature just like every other boy in college. He was dumb with his actions and tended to only do things if they benefited him. He had a lot of growing to do as a person, so did she but she wanted to grow with him.

She heard a knock on her door hesitating to answer it because one, it could be Harry, and two, she looked like a wreck. Answering anyways, she was met with a very sorry looking Harry holding a small coffee and bagel from their cafe.

“Hi baby…” He sheepishly said holding out the items. She silently let him through the door not once looking him in the eye. He stepped into her room, setting her treats on her desk. He could see that her bed was messy meaning she recently woke up. Y/N never went about her day without making her bed. He turned back to her and finally their eyes met. He took in all of her facial features, from her puffy eyes, to her downturned lips that looked chapped, to her flushed cheeks that longed to be held for warmth. He hated to see her like this, the last time he saw her so upset was when her parents moved out of her childhood home. It took alot to make Y/N this upset. She was normally really headstrong and vigilant. She knew how to ease her way out of problematic situations and could talk her way through anything.

Harry opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Y/N holding her hand up in front of his face. “Don't talk. I'm really hurt Harry, so if your plan was to come over here and apologize over bagels- think again.” She snapped, backing up to put space between the two of them. She sat down on her bed while Harry pulled the desk chair out and sat down. He much preferred to be on the bed with her holding her tight but he didn't want to overstep boundaries.

“Love, I don't know where to begin. I'm really sorry for what happened last night. I was really drunk and obviously wasn't in the right headspace.” Harry reached out and touched the tips of her fingers with his. She wanted to move but it felt good to be touched by Harry.

“I told you that a measly little apology won't do Harry. I didn't want you to kiss Yara and you did anyway. You know how Yara feels about you and you just let it happen!” She pulled her hand away remembering the prior night's events. Harry felt himself getting angry too. He felt like he needed to defend himself- even though it would be a very bad idea.

“I think you're being over dramatic.” Wrong move Harry. “It wasn't like I was making out with her!”

“You're joking right?” She scoffed and scooted further up her bed to create more distance. “Harry it's the simple fact that you did something that made me uncomfortable that shouldn't have even happened. I see myself getting married to you and it makes me worry that right now in our relationship you can't respect my boundaries!” She yelled. Harry’s eyes widened as he laughed sarcastically.

“Married? What the fuck are you on about? I'm a junior in college. In what world would it make sense for me to be prepping a relationship for marriage? Once again I think you're being over dramatic.” Her eyes watered hearing Harry's statement.

“I- I guess I'm the only one in this relationship thinking about the future? I thought we were on the same page. I'm not planning our marriage now, obviously. I'm thinking about how elements of our relationship now could play out in the future when we do want to get married. You cheated on me last night. I went to a party you begged ME to go to only to be there for you. I wanted to be here cuddling with you, pigging out on fast food but I was at a party with you and got cheated on!” Her volume rises once again, making Harry shove his chair from underneath him when he stands up.

“You're doing too much right now. I'm not planning a future right now because I don't want this future! I want to be myself without thinking about how to appease my girlfriend. I invited you to the party so you could lighten the fuck up. I love you, I do, but I'm not thinking of marriage and futures. I'm thinking about my life right now and having fun.” Harry snapped right back at her. Her chin wobbled. Obviously her and Harry were on different pages. It hurt so much to hear him say that he didn't want a future with her. Harry didn't mean it though.

“Ok, well I guess that's my fault for assuming we were thinking along the same lines. Um, I don't want to hold you back from being yourself so with that being said, you are a free man Harry.” She pushed herself up from her bed walking to the door ready to escort Harry out.

“Huh? Love, what?” Harry was confused on how they got to this point. Just a few days ago they were in love, meeting in the library to share a lunch and exchanging sweet words determined by their love.

“Listen I have a day full of exams tomorrow so if you could just leave that would be best. You don't really want this so I'm letting you go, Harry.” She had tears rolling down her face, falling from her eyes down to her chin where they fell to the ground in droplets. Harry’s eyes welled up watching his love cry before him.

“I don't-”

“Harry, leave, please.” She opened the door making room for him to go through. He walked through the door turning to look at her. She turned her face away from him whispering a small goodbye before shutting the door. Harry was left in the silent hallway, so silent he could hear his thoughts and the tears hitting the tile floor beneath him. He thinks he stood there for at least thirty more minutes before accepting what had happened and walking away.

Leaving Y/N in her room sobbing like she had never done before. Her tears coated her face and she thought her head could explode right then and there. She didn't want to accept what had happened but she had priorities. She composed herself enough to start studying for her exams.

The week rolled by quickly, Monday meeting Friday in a flash. Exams were done and Christmas break was on the horizon. Students were piling off of campus in a hurry ready to get home to their loved ones. People were outside by cars loading up their winter necessaries and saying their goodbyes to their close friends.

Harry cried everyday this week. He wasn't normally a crier. He hated crying, he hated the feeling of crying and the headache that came from it. He cried because he realized how wrong he was. He missed Y/N. He missed finals week dinner together where they tried to get off campus at least once and be alone for a moment. He missed watching her relax while eating food that wasn't from their school's cafeteria. He would pay for their meal just so she could have one less thing to worry about. They would normally get frozen yogurt right after too, Y/N getting as many toppings as she wanted because Harry would be the one paying. He missed her tight after exam hugs. She would squeeze his shoulders tight, smiling into his neck, telling him how proud she was of him. She would bring him tea in the morning when they met for breakfast. Sometimes they would spend the night in one or the others room so they could have time together to destress and just talk.

Y/N wasn't doing any better. She normally went into exam week feeling confident. She studied too hard not to. But this week she felt like shit. Her heart hurt and she kept thinking about the fight. She feels like she overreacted but hearing Harry talk about their lack of a future hurt nonetheless. She really assumed that they did have a future that included marriage and a life together. She didn't understand where his sudden lack of commitment came from. She regretted dumping him but at the same time she wished he did more to get them back together but he was silent. He hasn't contacted her at all and avoided all of their spots on campus all together.

She stood by her car prepping for her six hours car ride back home. Packing away her clothes and some essentials in the trunk of her car, she heard light footsteps behind her. Closing her trunk she turned to see Harry standing with his hands in his pockets.

“Hi.” He said. She looked at him, putting her own hands in her pockets. It was cold outside, the nippy air hinting at a possibility of snow.

“Hi Harry.” They shared a moment of silence together. Just staring at each other. It felt good to be near each other again. They felt like they could breathe again.

“I had to see you before you left. I know the break is only a month but I didn't want to leave without seeing you.” He replied quietly. She made him feel so shy. Her beauty always made him awestruck. Even in a hoodie with their college's logo and some large sweatpants and some fuzzy crocs, she was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

“I don't know what to say harry.”

“It's ok. I don't deserve anything from you after what I said. I just wanted to apologize and wish you a good break before you left. I also wanted to give you this.” He pulled a small box and envelope out of the front pocket of his backpack. “I know we agreed on no presents but I think thats a dumb rule and I love you too much to not get you something.” She smiled at his words, taking the gift from his hands.

“Thank you Harry, it means a lot to me. So what are your plans for a break?” She asked him, the tension that was in the air slowly dissipating.

“I couldn't get a flight home until next wednesday so i'll stay here on campus until then.” He shrugged.

“Oh ok. Well tell Anne I said hi. I have to go Harry but I'll see you after the break, ok?” She didn't want to leave him but she didn't want to drive through the dark.

“Ok, love. Drive safe. I lov- I mean have a good break.” Her chest tightened at his hesitation. She wants to hear him say the words but she knows he won't.

“Have a good break Harry.” She whispered. Before getting in her car she stood on her toes placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Rubbing her thumb across his cheek and turning away and into her car.

She drove away knowing that her heart was left in that parking lot in the hands of someone she loves way too much.

Harry stood in the parking lot watching his heart drive away for winter wanting nothing more than to be with her.

Part two

#harry styles x reader #frat!harry #i carry your heart #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #college!harry #part 2 coming soon #harry styles smut #fratrry #boyfriend!harry

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gaeasun · 4 years ago

Text

When was the last time

Since I love Fox and this prompt, exhaustion, made me inspired cause Im tired, here’s s little fic. the fluff is inspired by @amikoroyaiart ‘s art of Fox, Cody, and Wolffe all together.

Day 1: Exhaustion

Fox was tired.

But that was nothing new.

If Fox was being honest with himself, he couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t been tired. It was a constant feeling, sometimes a lighter lethargy that hovered behind his eyes and clung to his yawns. More and more often it was a heavy fatigue that soaked his limbs and mind, dragging him down and making everything much harder than it needed to be.

Fox had accepted this, though. Long gone were his energetic cadet days, running around with his batchmates. Fox was tired, and he was going to be tired until the day he died. Maybe even after too.

The CMO for the Coruscant Guard, Croissant, told him again and again he needed to sleep more than 3-6 hours a night (even that much was nice though). But Fox just… couldn’t. The more he worked the fewer vode were decommissioned by cruel senators, or more relief supplies approved, or less work on the other Commanders of the Guard.

He was the Marshall Commander, he was the vod’alor of Coruscant, he was the ori’vod of the Guard. His vode were under his protection, and Fox would rather let his own soul be cursed than let any of them be harmed from this Force-forsaken war.

It was all Fox could do not to pass out then and there when he was told that the war was over.

Of course, this didn’t mean Fox’s job was over, he knew. No, if anything, he had more to do; the Guard could not slip, not even a little. They were made for war, what if the Senators decided there was nothing more they were needed for? Fox was determined to show they were still useful, that they didn’t have to be decommissioned.

So he worked even harder, slept less, took more shifts, and drank enough caf that it was probably running through his veins at this point.

Fox distantly wondered if his body would simply give out or shut off at some point. Probably soon. It was getting harder and harder to sleep, with his mind and body so used to being awake. Even crueler, every morning was a fight to escape his cot, as opposed to his struggle to stay in it the nights or day before. But he was determined to squeeze every last drop of use from himself, as long as he could help his brothers.

He was supposed to have seen Croissant weeks ago for something about a behavior chip removal. But Fox knew if Croissant got even half a look at him he would never escape the medbay. The chip was activated by Palpatine’s voice, and Palpatine was dead. So he was safe, from that at least.

When Fox opened his door and saw Cody and Wolffe on the the other side, he didn’t have the mental energy to be surprised. He muttered a greeting and motioned for them to walk with him.

“Fox, no.”

The words didn’t really register in Fox’s head. Neither did the firm hand around his vambrace. Fox kept walking like he was on autopilot, tugging loosely against the restraining arm.

“Fox. Fox?”

Fox finally stopped, the gears in his head struggling to turn, to process.

“Yeah. You’re done, vod. Come on.” Wolffe pulled harder until he was dragging Fox back inside his? the room. Office with a bed.

Fox finally found his voice. “Got things t’ do. Le’ go.”

Cody put a warm, concerning hand on his shoulder, and Fox shivered. He didn’t have time for this anymore, soft touches and kindness. That time could be better spent doing something.

“The other Commander are handling it. Thire called us in, told us he was worried about you,” Cody said.

“No. Busy. Lemme go.”

“Absolutely not vod.” Wolffe sat him down on his cot and reached for his helmet. Fox clumsily jerked away. No one had seen him without his helmet in… in… a long time.

“Fox.” Wolffe growled. “You sound like osik, I’m sure you look like osik. You even smell like osik.” Wolffe’s nose wrinkled, and Fox found it funny enough for a slow laugh. “When’s the last time you took a sonic Fox?”

Fox hummed. He didn’t remember. The days sort of all blended together now.

Wolffe snorted. “That’s it. Cody, help me out.”

Before Fox could even wonder, help him out with what? he felt a tugging on his vambrace, before it came off.

They were taking off his armor. He needed his armor.

Fox pulled backwards, whining in protest.

“Fox’ika,” Cody murmured. “Don’t you trust us?”

Fox had forgotten was trust was.

Maybe… maybe his brothers could help him remember.

Fox tried to relax, but ended up tensing more and more as each armor piece was stripped from him. By the time they had taken all of his armor off except for his helmet, he was shaking, shuddering in drawn out intervals.

Stop, he thought. Waste of energy.

He flinched as a hand went on his bare shoulder. “I’m taking off the helmet now,” Cody informed him.

Fox let his head droop down as the helmet came of. His eyes were still closed, though he didn’t remember when he’d stopped opening them.

Warm light from the setting sun brushed his eyelids, and Wolffe rumbled, low and frightening.

“You need to sleep now,” Cody decided.

“Can’t,” Fox whispered.

“We’re not letting you do anything else.” Fox could picture Wolffe’s teeth baring.

“No… can’t.”

There were a few moments of silence, then Fox heard the sounds of more armor being taken off. But his armor was already off?

“We;ve got you, Fox,” Cody murmured. Fox felt strong, warm hands pulling him gently, carrying him off the small cot and onto the floor.

But not entirely on the floor. He was nudged until his head was resting on more warmth, something softer and more alive than his cot. Fox blinked slowly a few times, and saw he was on Cody’s shoulder. Cody wrapped one arm around Fox, and one around Wolffe, who looked relaxed and… happy.

Fox hadn’t been happy in a while. But… he curled up on Cody, and tentatively put a hand on Wolffe’s chest, feeling his heart beat thump thump thump again and again.

The rays of the setting sun were nice, but the warmth of his brothers was even better, chasing away the painful and cold part of his exhaustion.

And Fox thought, maybe he could be happy again.

#commander fox #commander fox week 2021 #exhaustion #maybe a little bit of projecting onto Fox #commander wolffe #commander cody

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enderwoah · 3 years ago

Text

ORIGINS SMP HEADCANONS (because i love them): SEASON TWO EDITION BAYBEEE

(this is really long ENJOY :gun:)

tommy

he is phil's son smile

phil's most recent son at least

he's got like one more somewhere

he picked this one up off the dangerous streets a few years ago and he's been sticking with phil ever since

his wings are small- not too small to fly, but they're untrained to the point where it would take a lot or work to get him off the ground

but at first, he didn't really seem to want to learn all that much?

(he has three scars on his face- all from trying to learn how to fly when he was younger)

(he gave up after the third one)

("if at first you don't succeed; try, try again" is his motto, and he tried all three times)

but!! phil and wilbur are very persuasive :) and now that he knows he can fly, he's not going to rest until he does

he's a little manipulative to get what he wants sometimes, but can you blame someone that lived on the street for so long?

he had to do that to survive! it's not his fault.

(it's a great excuse.)

he laughs like a kookaburra amen

he squawks when he gets scared

he chirps. he tries not to because it makes phil go absolutely bird-brained but he does sometimes and he hates it.

tubbo

NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A B[GUNSHOTS]

god he is. so fucking annoying (/rp)

he simply does not know when to stop

he ignores social cues to see when someone is annoyed

(see: he can read social cues. he does read social cues. when you get annoyed that's when he starts being more annoying, because you're more likely to give him what he wants to get him to shut the fuck up.)

he loves talking to (at) people, especially people he doesn't really know that well

so he's trying to be friends with ranboo, but the absolute prick keeps trying to avoid any actual conversations, so that's not working

he buzzes when he gets excited-happy

his fingertips are completely blackened and horrendously sharp, functioning as ten individual stingers

they don't do any actual damage but he's working on that

techno

wither hybrid (??)

how can you be a wither hybrid?? nobody got down and dirty with the wither

he's an experiment

the reason we haven't seen him yet? he's staying away from the main area of the smp

he doesn't want to ruin its natural beauty with his withering effect, so he keeps to himself on the outskirts of the smp

which sucks

withers get health from killing things

he's not fully a wither, so he gets energy from being around people and sort of draining their life force a little bit

he feels terrible when he's with just one person because they are Literally his life support and it makes the person feel like shit

when he's with a big group of people its great!! he only has to take a little bit from everyone and its barely noticable!!

but then there's the wither part. so he has to stay away.

he's always tired

always exhausted

he's a farmer, so taking it from animals works, but god does he miss people

but he can only visit a few times and for very short

(he's afraid that one of these days he'll get so bad that the next time he sees someone he'll accidentally kill them)

(it already happened once. he's blessed that he's been forgiven, even made friends with by the victims, but he doubts he'll be able to pull that off again with no consequences like last time)

wilbur

phantlings are dead elytrians, and given that wilbur was phil's son...he's a phantling

he died in the late 50s and was a librarian when he was alive, so he's very possessive (ha) over all of his things

you should never ask to "borrow" anything from him, he will hound you about it until you give it back

it's best to just say that you want something from him to keep

even if youre going to give it back

just for your own peace of mind

phantlings can feel fear and get a genuine feeling of elation from scaring people

of course, sometimes its unwelcome (feeling large amounts of fear from someone they care about in a bad way just makes them pissed)

but for the most part, wilbur loves appearing in the corner of people's visions just to jumpscare them a few minutes later

all in good fun, of course!! it's just hilarious :)

being the lighthearted, fun guy he is, he's not particularly secretive about his method of death

"how did i die? well, it all started -- ended -- on november 16th, 1958!"

"i walked out of the library late, since i took the shift for my wife since she was feeling sick and i worked there anyways,"

"the streets were dark and only lit up by gaslamps...and out of an alley...appeared..........."

techno.

he didn't mean it. wilbur isn't at all mad at him (anymore)

he was starving. he didn't know that one touch would be enough to fully revitalize him...

and murder wilbur where he stood.

sneeg

has details on everyone on the server

you Cannot Hide Shit From Sneeg

its impossible

if you find of his any shittly little mouse holes then you're doomed

you find one and there are twenty more

he's under your floorboards while you're having your important discussion about trapping the nether roof

sucks to suck ig??

he seems to be the favourite of many, which is weird since he rarely goes out of his way to actually talk to many people

he's the only person that tubbo doesn't actively try to annoy (or maybe he just doesn't find tubbo's antics all that annoying)

he's the only person that ranboo stays around (or maybe he stays around ranboo- he and Phil seem to be the only ones not off-put by his slightly sadistic and whiny demeanour (not counting tubbo, who annoys him anyways)

phil seems to be more protective of him than he thinks is normal (he lets sneeg ride on his shoulder while travelling, so he doesn't really complain)

niki is completely protective over him (again, not complaining)

contrary to popular believe, he does not get high from sugar

if anything he gets

high-per

(get it)

(high-per)

(hyper)

he's literally just a nine-year old getting a sugar rush leave him alone

phil

take the normal "bird-brain" headcanons and multiply it by like sixty-four

and you've got origins phil

he can't see glass- or, rather, he can, but it doesn't register that 'hey, this is a solid surface i am going to slam into'

its very funny for everyone else but he's pretty sure he has permanent brain damage from the blunt force trauma

if there is ANYONE on the server who dares to chirp, bird or no, they must understand that they are signing away their privacy and giving phil the right to go absolutely bonkers over them momma bird style

(shoutout to tommy, wilbur, ranboo, and fundy for having to suffer through this)

"oh??? you don't have wings?? you don't have feathers?? omg?? then what's this im preening?? what do you mean im just braiding your hair?? nono this is preening smile"

god help you if you dare to have wings

poor tommy, wilbur, sneeg, and tubbo

phil can't help himself alright

do you think he wants to be any sort of protective over sneegsnag?

no!! but he cant stop himself!! sneeg might damage his wings if he keeps flying those super long distances!!! nnnno! carry the bug man!!!

it's weird, he's always had that protective sense over ranboo, too

but ranboo very obviously doesn't have wings, so he doesn't get it...

ranboo

yes ur a peasant

yes ur poor

yes im cooler than u

what r u gonna do about it

the enderdragon's son! partially a dragon, partially enderman, partially human (don't ask, his other mom is a hybrid), all spoiled brat!

given that he has a ton of dragon genes, he's extremely possessive over his stuff and Yes He Does Do The Hoarding Thing

he has a pile of rings and gold chains and necklaces and most of his jewellery hidden underneath his bed

(if you ask him, no, he doesn't)

not to wear

just to Have

one time, fundy stole one (1) bracelet from the hoard and ranboo was sent into a panic for a good 24 hours

he wouldn't leave his cave and kept counting and recounting as if that'd make the missing piece reappear

(when fundy had to give it back because of the guilt, he expected to get his face bitten off)

(instead, he just watched as the prince was flooded with relief, telling him to get the hell out and nothing more)

it's weird, he has so much gold and even a crown, and yet here he is

living with all those people ^^^

truth be told, the enderdragon isn't a very nice dragon

nor is she a very kind queen

nor was the other queen

nor was her son

there was a mutiny in the end, leading to the dragon queen and her wife being killed brutally by the crowd of angered people

they went after their son next, who had ordered executions and worked servants to the bone just as much as they had

they cut off his wings in the middle of the square

he was sure he was going to die until a random person (a peasant) jumped up and yelled at them for publicly torturing a child

but ranboo didn't really catch all of it, given he was delirious from pain

he got to get some stuff quickly and escape with his life

this wasn't too long ago, either, so he's still trying to...adjust...to people talking rudely to him

(he's also trying to adjust to not having wings)

(hence why he hurls himself off the edges of cliffs and then has to teleport to the bottom instead of glide. he keeps forgetting.)

#this is so long #origins smp #originssmp #ranboo #tubbo #philza #philza minecrft #sneegsnag #wilbur soot #technoblade #tommyinnit #help this is so long

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sukirichi · 4 years ago

Text

earned it [06]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. attempted murder and suicide, angst ig i feel nothing at this point because NAOYA 😭

notes. i’m rolling with the earned it jokes that reader is shippable with everyone so HAH enjoy this chapter because I didn’t enjoy the last LMAO (IM SO EXCITED FOR TOJI TO APPEAR!)

series masterlist

Your muscles throbbed, the pounding of your heart felt even through your skin. You’ve spent hours in the training room, taking punch by punch, landing blow by blow – yet no matter how hard you tried, you kept falling on your ass. At this point, your backside was beyond sore, skin drenched with sweat and clothes sticking uncomfortably to the surface. Meanwhile, your ‘savior’ barely felt the need to catch his breath, instead gazing down at you with disappointment written all over his face.

“Why do you expect so much from me?” you panted, fists clenched on the mat. “Didn’t you tell me you just needed me to get your money back and that’s it? I didn’t ask for you to do anything so stop telling me I’m indebted to you all the time.”

Naoya clicked his tongue, clearly disappointed by your lack of resolve. Above you, he swept up his cane and finally balanced himself. You previously thought he didn’t struggle because he looked so calm and composed, easily overpowering you even with his injury, but his lips were strained, jaw clenched tight that perhaps he was just good at concealing his pain. It made you shut up and watch his every move; his back faced you – probably to hide whatever fleeting moment of vulnerability he had.

“I won’t always be there to save your sorry life,” he said calmly, “You need to learn how to be strong on your own no matter how tough it gets. Now if you’ll keep complaining instead of finishing your training, I could happily lock you up and force you to do my dirty work for me.”

“Then why don’t you go ahead?!”

“I don’t want to,” Naoya responded without missing a beat. He easily closed the distance with a few staggered steps, his head tilted to the side as he surveyed you.

You wondered what went through his mind. Did he see a weak woman? A woman who must be so helpless, so useless that you stayed there, legs too tired and muscles aching too much you couldn’t move? There was no telling with Naoya, and his guarded gaze didn’t help either. Satoru had always been difficult to read at most, but with Naoya – it was practically impossible.

Even as he cupped your chin and twisted it sideways, his eyes narrowed over all your features like he saw something you didn’t, he was too guarded.

“I need you in taking down Gojo Satoru. In order to accomplish that, I have to use his weakness against him. You showing up won’t be enough. No, I want to hurt him…and what better way than to take what was once his, right? Dangle right in front of his eyes what he let go of, make him regret his actions?” his smile turned dark, and for the first time since you’ve met him, you got a glance of what his heart really looked like.

It wasn’t true that Naoya was heartless – no, he just had a dark, sinister heart that didn’t beat the same tune as others. He played his own music with the bones of his enemies, drinking their lifeline from a gold cup and drowning in them, his ominous laughter the perfect antithetical melody of what could’ve been angelic hums.

“Don’t you want that?”

His question made your heart skipped a beat. This whole time, you’ve been so hell bent on achieving something, but what you wanted to reach had never been clear. You were too driven by emotions, by the pain Satoru’s absence had caused, and now that the opportunity was presented before you, you faltered.

“I don’t know what I want.”

“Well, if you ask me what I want…” he tilts your chin up with his finger “It would be to see you strong enough that even you would be capable of taking me down. So be strong, keep fighting – I’ll be there with you every step of the way. You only have one job, and that is to live. I am not allowing you to give up at the slightest of minor inconveniences.”

“And if I get weak?” you questioned with an oscillating tremor, the bite of his cold skin against your heated ones spiking. “If I want to give up? Would I fail you then?”

“I don’t think you’re someone who cares about failing others, so don’t fret whether you’d please me or not,” Just like that, Naoya’s scornful tone had risen again. He let go of you until you dropped down to your palms, blinking back at the sudden change of atmosphere. “Like I said, just do what you need to do, keep going. Don’t look back or be afraid to take the next big step because I’ll always be there right beside you.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“I’m not asking you to, princess,” he snickered, already half way to the door that only he was allowed to go in. Even though you’ve been staying in his manor for quite some time, there were still some things Naoya didn’t trust you with, leaving you only more curious to find out the secrets within.

“Only time will tell. But once you’ve made your decision, know that my ring is always waiting beside your table,” his voice echoed through the large room, stopping in his tracks to look at you once more. This time, he had no haunting features, only the cold emptiness likened to staring back to an infinite void of nothingness.

“I expect an answer when I get home.”

You still remembered the day you decided to wear his ring. Naoya had come then, tired and aggravated from matters he didn’t bother explaining. You stood on his doorway, lips shut tight as you nervously fiddled with your ring, unsure if whether you should tell him or allow him to piece the puzzle himself.

Thankfully, Naoya was a lot more observant than you gave him credit for.

His eyes slid over your face before he followed the motion of your fingers, smirking as the jewel glinted under the bright lights of his home. Wise choice, he’d once told you, and you believed it.

Your life hadn’t been the same ever since. Your spontaneous marriage equated to hellish training of perfecting your image as his trophy wife, spending hours in his secret laboratory and discussing business plans through a glass of wine. Naoya wasn’t around much to teach you everything and it pained him to be your own trainer too so you had to ask help from his guards, refusing to give up and fall down even as your muscles screamed at you to take a break. For Naoya, with Naoya, giving up and running away felt like a myth; a buried solution in the past that should never be brought up again. But now that he was gone, you did exactly that.

You’d given up. Satoru had made you run away.

“Miss,” a deep voice cut you from your thoughts. You tore your gaze away from the glowing night city of Milan to turn to Satoru’s right hand man, the tall figure looming rather shyly instead of imposingly. “You haven’t eaten since we got here. Would you like anything? Mr. Gojo will cover your expenses.”

“I want to go home.”

He froze at your deadpan statement. Finally meeting your gaze under his lashes, Geto pursed his lips. “You know we can’t do that, Miss. It’s unsafe back in Japan.”

“And who’s to say Toji won’t follow us here?” you snapped, pushing your weight off the Cleopatra set and uncrossing your legs. “Why can’t your stupid boss just activate the account and give it back to us? I think we’ve made it clear we’re more than capable of handling our finances, and I’m pretty sure Satoru doesn’t need any more money when he can afford all this.”

“Mr. Gojo…has his reasons for everything he does.”

You laughed bitterly. Maybe it was the fact that Satoru had left this morning for whatever business he had that you didn’t have anyone else to let your anger out to that you’d swiped your gun under your thigh holster and dashed his way.

Geto’s back slammed against the wall, the cool barrel of your gun pressed to his jaw. He swallowed nervously, eyes darting to your weapon, and you laughed heartlessly. “Oh, please, do tell because nothing makes sense,” you crooned, flipping the safety off and letting your heated gaze meet his rather docile ones. You almost felt bad for him. Almost.

“I could easily put a bullet through your head and hijack his plane. I’ll be gone before you know it and who’s to stop me from doing that? Why should I stay here any longer with you?”

“Because your husband asked you to,” Geto responded softly. You stepped back with wide eyes, yesterday’s event crashing all over you once again. He must’ve sensed you no longer held any hostility because he used his pointer finger to move the barrel away from him, gently peeling your hands off his suit. “Because you know, if you go back to Japan, there will be nothing waiting for you there.”

You balled your fists. “I will kill Fushiguro Toji myself. Then I’ll kill Satoru.”

“Even if he used to be your lover?”

“Especially because he used to be my lover.”

Okay…maybe your plan of escaping and returning to Japan hadn’t worked out that well. Exhaustion finally crept up to your senses that you passed out not long after attacking Geto – who reassured you to no end he wasn’t mad you tried to kill him – and days have passed ever since. You hated to admit it, but being stuck in an overseas hotel wasn’t so bad. Geto’s presence was a lot more comforting than his master’s that you didn’t mind having him watch your every move. Plus, he was really nice to immediately follow your every whim. You wanted hot chocolate? Extra pillows? A really expensive wine that you refused to pay for because you were petty and dramatic? He provided it all without question.

Except he probably should have, because you’d stripped off to your underwear, head tipped back to take one final swig of the nearly empty bottle as you slid deeper into the tub.

Your fiery nature of rolling your eyes at Satoru every time he came around (which was rare, for some reason) couldn’t fool anyone – not even yourself. The moment Geto retired to the living room, you would bite the pillows to muffle your cries, thinking back to when Naoya was still alive. It was an endless torment of what if you had stayed, what if you had pushed the rubble off him, what if you just saved him?

Would he still be alive? Would he have survived? Would you be back with him in the Zen’in Estate instead of holding your breath under the tub in a desperate attempt to conceal your tears?

It hurt so bad. It hurt everywhere.

Your lungs begged you to rise up and breathe, but you stayed still under the water, eyes shut tight and hands clenched around the tub’s edges so hard your knuckles turned white. Soon, you grew dizzy and your grip slipped away. Finally, fucking finally, you were falling, falling way too deep that your legs bent inside the tub. Bubbles erupted from your lips in one last breath. At the back of your mind, you let out a sincere laugh for you’d meet your husband soon. He’d be disappointed, probably scold you all the way to the afterlife – until strong arms pulled you out of the tub and into someone’s chest instead.

“Shit, what are you doing?! You could’ve drowned!”

You coughed out water and fisted Satoru’s button-up shirt that had now clung to his skin from the water. Looking around you, you were still very much alive, the uncomfortable twisting of your heart a painful reminder of that. Above you, Satoru sat you in his lap while he remained cross-legged on the floor, muttering curses under his breath as he wrapped a towel around you.

Scoffing, you pushed his hands away, though you kept the towel anyway to lessen your shivering. Why the fuck was the AC so damn strong here?

“Dying seems like a better option, don’t you think?” you snarled at him, teeth chattering from the chill that had begin to seep in.

Momentarily, you worried on how much of a hot mess you probably looked like. Smudged eyeliner, wine-stained lips, unbrushed hair and remnants of the wine mixing with the once clear bath water – you shook your head at the thought and glared at Satoru.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“I was out contacting friends to ask for help. We’re going to need a hundred pairs of eyes watching anywhere that Toji could possibly come through.”

“Is this your pathetic idea of ‘keeping me safe’? Locking me up in this stupid hotel and having your man watch me all the time?” you pushed yourself off him, the sudden motion of standing up giving you wobbly legs. Satoru reached over to steady you but you slapped his hand away, your glare warning him to not take another step.

Seeing his face, seeing him worried as if he didn’t just cause your life to turn into absolute hell, you wanted to grab the wine bottle and smash it right at his pretty face. He had no right to look at you with pity.

You hated him, utterly and terribly despised this man with your entire being.

“What are you really planning, Satoru? Why can’t we just come back home and attack Toji with all we’ve got? Why don’t you just give back our fucking money so we can end all this for once and for all and I can leave?!”

“Because I don’t have the money!”

“What?”

“The money…” Satoru’s back slid off the wall, his palm coming up to thread through his hair. He sounded weak, defeated. “I don’t have it.”

“Gojo,” you snatched him by the collar, teeth bared as you demanded, “What do you mean you don’t have it?”

Satoru paled. “When I stole the money from the Zen’ins, the figures were all fake. They’re not real, there’s no actual money hidden behind their accounts and it was too late before I realized that,” his lips trembled as he continued, “Whatever Toji placed in there, it’s not his actual account where he hides everything and it would make sense too because I stole it too easily – almost as if they wanted me to take it. A few hacks here and there and it was immediately wired to me but after meeting you…” Satoru shook his head, chin dropped down low. “I checked again and the account never existed. It’s a fake one. The digits are just there for show.”

“So then why would Toji want it? Why did my husband have to die for nothing?!”

“I don’t know, okay, I don’t know anything!” he argued back until your faces grew closer, his nose brushing with yours.

Somehow, you couldn’t pull away. His knees had drawn up, forcing you to rest on his thighs as you both breathed heavily, your grip on his collar almost havered.

“Whatever the Zen’ins are hiding, that’s beyond me. I may be in the business for far longer than they have, but they have always been notorious with their possessions that I’m not surprised even I can’t find where it really leads back to. Whatever Toji is hiding there, your husband must’ve known something about it. Why else would they fight tooth and bone over it?”

“If there was, Naoya would’ve told me about it.”

“He would if he trusted you,” Satoru suddenly grabbed your wrist and shook it until you stared at your ring. “How are you even so sure he could trust you with that information? Have you forgotten you’re just a pawn to his game and you’re nothing but a bed warmer?”

“Don’t you ever speak about us that way. You don’t know how much he cared for me.”

“If he really did, then why didn’t he tell you why his cousin is after you? He’s using you as bait, Y/N. I’m not the bad guy here. That man you’re so deeply in love with? I can’t guarantee he’s better than me. We’re all men in the mafia, love is the last thing we would care about.”

You pushed yourself off him.

His words stung too much, not because it was a lie, but because you know there was some sort of truth ringing behind it. You trudged out of the bathroom and sat on the bed, unstirred by the fact you dripped all over the carpeted floor. From behind you, Satoru’s rushed footsteps echoed, but you didn’t care. You simply threw on a robe with your back turned to him.

“And you’d know that better than everyone right? Considering how easy it was for you to leave me?” When Satoru didn’t respond, you chuckled humorlessly and sat on the bed. “What Naoya and I had…it was a friendship that healed my soul. I don’t…I don’t know what to do without him.”

“Friendship?”

You smiled sadly. “I wasn’t actually in love with him, idiot. Men like Naoya don’t know what love is, but he sure does know how to protect family.”

The notion of talking about him, of accepting that maybe he really was gone…somewhat reliving.

Satoru was the last person you wanted to talk to your late husband about, but Geto – which is the much better company – wasn’t around, and you hugged your knees to yourself, refusing to let Satoru see through your vulnerability.

“You know, I trusted him more than I did myself. He was always there for me, no matter what. His soul was dark, angry, corrupted – he’s not the man I would fall for, but despite all that, he was the friend I needed,” you buried your face in your knees, voice muffled as you cried, your heart shattering again and again and again.

The ring on your finger had never felt so heavy ever since you wore it.

“I loved him as much as I hated you.”

Satoru was silent, so much so that you wondered if he was even in the same room at all. You sat there crying, too hopeless to even try to conceal it anymore. Shivering, you close your eyes and forced the image of Naoya’s last moments away from your memories, desperately praying to whoever had mercy that you could just forget all about it.

“Geto told me you tried to kill him,” Satoru murmured after a beat, “You could’ve easily escaped and went back to Japan if you wanted to, so why didn’t you? Was it because of me?”

You remembered what you tried to do today.

Just like that, Naoya was alive once more. You were brought back to the day of your wedding when he’d clasped your sweaty, clammy hands in his, rubbing some warmth in them before pressing a kiss at the top of your knuckles. He’d asked you to promise him something then – an entire contrast from his constants orders over your well-being – and it was a promise you’d momentarily forgotten; a promise you’d broken out of mourning.

“Naoya once told me,” you reminisced through dry, cracked lips and even more shattered heart, the picture of his disappointment as clear as day. “Death was the only place he can go where he would never allow me to follow.”

It took a lot, but it somehow got better. After allowing yourself a faint moment of weakness where Naoya resurfaced in your mind to remind you of our promise and your purpose, you felt stronger, somewhat steadier with each step you took. You were still wary around Satoru, although that was a given.

His friend, Geto, was really nice, on the other hand, and you couldn’t explain why you always lowered your guard around the formal dark-haired assistant.

You and Geto were playing chess when Satoru barged in out of nowhere, a plate and a syrup condenser on his hand. “So I got you breakfast,” was his greeting, nodding at Geto once as a silent order to give you two privacy. You pouted as the latter left, but soon your attention had been diverted to the heavenly aroma filling in your senses. Seeing your approval, Satoru hid a smile behind his dark sunglasses. “Still like pancakes?”

“Trying to get into my good graces now?”

“I’m just trying to cheer you up.”

You rolled your eyes but snatched the plate from him anyway. “So I talked to my lawyer,” you begun, pouring syrup all over the fluffy bread until it was almost spilling to the sides. Beside you, Satoru’s snickers were barely muffled, to which you ignored wholeheartedly. “They’ve already processed my inheritance over Naoya’s possessions and assets. Once we return to Japan, I’ll be the next leader of the Zen’in Clan, much to the disappointment of his elders, of course, but they can’t do anything about it,” you informed him with your fork hanging in mid-air, the words falling thickly. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

“That we’re back to being enemies?”

You offered him a sarcastic smile. “Naoya lied about strengthening his alliance with your family. He doesn’t actually give a fuck about you.”

“I figured that much,” he snickered to himself, shifting his weight until his elbows rested on his thighs. “Listen…a friend of mine is flying to Milan tonight to meet us. They have strong connections with banks all over the world and they brought in some information about that hidden Zen’in account. I think we’re finally getting off to somewhere and finding out what really is in there,” Satoru gauged for your reaction, but you kept eating – more like stuffing the pancakes inside your mouth for you were finally free of having to act perfect without your husband.

Satoru’s hand landed on top of yours. “I promise…I’ll give it back to right where it belongs. As soon as it’s wired back to you, I’m setting you free.”

You stared at the unwanted figure over you, and you snatched your hand back, waving a bread knife below his lashes. “You can’t set me free when I was never yours,” you sang breathily, the tip of the blade hovered right at his lips. Satoru raised a brow at you, but you quickly retrieved the knife back with widened eyes. “Now that you mention it…I think Naoya told me something about his family stashing secret weapons and even heirlooms through offshore accounts and buried under islands. He was a little sleepy during that time but I remember it,” pushing the plate away from you as you lost your appetite, you clutched your palms under your chin in thought. “He said he was looking for something he lost as a child, possibly an heirloom.”

“He’s doing all this for heirlooms?” Satoru immediately coughed his words back when you glared at him, raising his hands in surrender. “I mean, I was just saying. I didn’t think he was a sentimental type of guy.”

“The question here is what both Toji and Naoya could’ve both wanted from that account. It’s not just an heirloom, obviously there’s something there worth more than money,” You argued and slapped your knees, heading straight to your (unfortunately) shared room. “Whatever. I’ll get this over with as soon as I get the money back.”

Satoru, as always, was hot on your heels. It annoyed you how he trailed over you like some sort of puppy or shadow – Naoya had always been too classy to not give you space.

The difference between them just kept getting more and more uncannily obvious.

“Whoa there, stop. Did you really think I’d give back the money to you and that’s it? Are you forgetting the fact Toji is out there to kill you just so he can have his hands on it?”

“He can have the money for all I fucking care,” you shrugged and sat on your bed, scrolling through numerous piles of emails and records that Naoya entrusted you to keep. Surely you could find something. “I just need to find whatever Naoya’s spent his whole life killing for.”

“Why don’t you care about the money? Didn’t Naoya expect you to take over his business?”

Your thumb froze over a file. Suddenly, your throat grew dry, and you quickly flashed Satoru a stinky eye. “I-it’s not my main concern.”

“It’s not safe for you. If Toji finds out—”

Got it. You bookmarked an email Naoya had forwarded you around three years ago and resent it to an old friend, pocketing the phone back to your pyjamas before Satoru could see. “I’ll handle it. I’ve been doing well so far before you came into our lives again,” you finalized, stopping for a bit as you waited for that all-too familiar footfall matching with yours, only for the room to be coated in silence.

Satoru stood there on the other side of the room, eyes deep in thought before he sighed. “I’ll meet you at the hotel restaurant tonight. We have a lot to discuss on what our next move should be,” nodding once, Satoru left the room.

The hotel room was eerily silent.

Dinner came around faster than you expected. With Geto out to run some errands for Satoru, something about ‘establishing bases’ or whatever, you were locked in your room, using Naoya’s black card to get enough amount of clothing to last you for your stay here. Even though Satoru had promised he’d take care of everything, you didn’t want to be in his debt for any longer. You weren’t his, you were Naoya’s, and you shot down his curious looks when heaps of shopping bags had been delivered to your door.

An hour later, you left the room, struggling to zipper the back of your dress. Satoru was already in the living room buttoning up his suit jacket, just as handsome as ever (though you’d never tell him that.)

His hands froze in the last button once his eyes landed on you, and you huffed at him, too distressed to even act cute or bothered while pointing to your dress. Satoru strode to you in three long steps, his cold fingers brushing against the dip of your spine when he clutched on the zipper.

You had to bite your lip down to prevent the shivers from spilling through, his lips dangerously close to your ear as he whispered, “You look great.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

If Satoru was bothered by the lack of sincerity in your voice, he didn’t comment on it. He removed his hands from you and watched as you slipped black velvet gloves through your arms – just in case you had to end up killing someone; leaving fingerprints was a risk you couldn’t take.

“Did you really get dressed to kill?”

“I came here to negotiate,” you corrected, “I’ll do everything I can to find out whatever’s behind that offshore account. And you, sir,” Frowning at him, you pulled Satoru closer by the tie, perhaps a little too harshly since he nearly knocked his head with yours. He was quick to steady himself as you fixed his tie, flattening it down with your fingers. “You need to know where you should stick your nose in. This is more my business than yours so don’t get in my way acting all hero and shit. I assure you I can handle myself.”

“You’re really going to berate me for worrying about you?”

“You can no longer worry about me,” you disclosed, snatching your black purse from the counter before doing the come hither motion at his shock-still figure. “Now let’s go. We have a case to crack.”

“Case to crack? You sure sound like a detective.”

You snickered, but made no further comment. The elevators dinged and you arrived at the restaurant, which you really regretted not visiting soon enough because the place was grand. Red carpeted floors, golden chandeliers, soft jazz music playing in the background as the lights dimmed down low, the faint clinking of utensils against plates and light chatter of the guests so heartbreakingly nostalgic.

It seemed that even after his death, Naoya had every intention to never leave your side. The setting reminded you too much of your never-ending late night fancy dinners.

Naoya being Naoya, he didn’t blink twice in flaunting his money and renting out entire restaurants all for himself, claiming that he just ‘wanted to have an intimate moment with his wife.’ Sure, it mostly consisted of you discussing what move you should make next, but it was the most affectionate gesture you’ve received after spending years in the quiet and cold environment of the Zen’in Estate.

The outside world wasn’t any better when you and Naoya were marked as targets by the entire government, so it made sense, that only with him that you’d find comfort in.

You must be so out of it you never even noticed Satoru leading you to your seat, a warm meal that should’ve been comforting right under your nose. It was too much – too similar that you headed straight for the wine, ignoring Satoru’s questioning gaze. You noticed from the corner of his eye that he opened his mouth too many times in an attempt to make light conversation, but this dinner wasn’t for you to rekindle your old flame.

No, you were here to wait for his ‘friend’ and review important matters. You were determined to fulfill that purpose alone and only that alone that you never once made eye contact with him, even standing up to reach the salt shaker near him instead of asking him to pass it.

Just as you leaned back to your seat, the music grew louder. A foreign man walked to the stage where he was basked in the spotlight, all heads turning to him when he tapped the microphone, sending little echoes all over the hall. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s loosen up tonight with a drink and bring our lovers out here on the dance floor,” he sang while swaying side to side, snapping his fingers to the beat that had turned into calming to sensual. “It is a fine evening, isn’t it? Come on, don’t be shy, the night is still so young!”

You dropped your fork beside the plate. “Did you know about this?”

“I swear, I had no idea.”

“Those two attractive lovers in table 42, the dance floor is still much too spacious!”

“Pretty vulgar for a five star hotel,” you commented under your breath and dabbed the pasta sauce off your lips with a napkin, slapping it down the table as you stood up – much to Satoru’s surprise who’d tried to make himself invisible from the host’s eyes. Stupid him; did he really think he could blend in with his sunglasses and snow white hair?

If you were to be honest, you’d rather choke on shrimp than dance with him, but you had an image to upkeep. If you couldn’t gather with the crowd and pretend to be one with others, both your true natures would be fished out even with innocent eyes. You were left with no choice but to be comfortable in the dance floor, sighing deeply as you placed your hands down on Satoru’s wide shoulders. He furrowed his brows at you but said nothing else; strong, cautious hands sliding down from your back before they settled at the curve of your hips.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Mister. I won’t hesitate to stab a fork through your jugular right here.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I know you’re not my little angel anymore.”

Angel. It was what he used to call you back then – when you were still but an innocent, naïve being who never believed in monsters until you fell for one.

He was right; you were no longer his angel. The woman he loved had been left abandoned in the street, the purity of her soul tainted with anger and heartbreak that soon bathed in blood and the need for revenge. His angel was no more – the woman he danced with was nothing but a replica of the face and body he adored the most. Now, you danced with him, not as his angel and neither as his rival’s wife, but simply as a woman whose kindness had long vanished into thin air.

Satoru danced with the devil.

And he should be disgusted just as you should be repulsed with how sickeningly smooth and graceful he was in everything he did, but the wine – yes, it was the fucking wine – messed with you that you actually enjoyed it. Your bodies moved in rhythm and syncopated with the beat, the romantic high notes of the violin and the tender embrace of deep trebles like a classical painting coming to life and you were its subjects to be expressed.

Perhaps…you were just sad. You grieved and mourned too much you’d momentarily forgot what love was, in turn making you forget what it felt like to be constantly unsafe and peeking over your shoulder in case someone tried to kill you.

Satoru just felt so warm, so safe and alive that you found your head dipping lower, your muscles relaxing around his soothing and undeniably tender touch, the space between your bodies diminishing until you surrendered to the power of your desire. You were so close, your ear about to press on his chest to listen to the blissful sound of someone’s reassuring heartbeat along with the music, and then you saw him.

A tuft of blonde hair, a chiseled face, a nude cream suit and a deep blue shirt beneath – what the fuck was he doing here?

The spell was broken in an instant.

Satoru must’ve been under the same trance for his hand trailed lower to pull you closer, your chests grazing with one another before you placed your palm flat on his body, lips thinned into a grim look that resonated with the sick, twisting feeling in your guts.

“I,” you croaked out, clearing your throat when it went dry. “I need to go to the ladies.”

You left Satoru without another word, bunching your dress up to run to where he had disappeared. He was still walking coolly and inspecting the paintings hung in the empty lobby with faux interest – although knowing him, the bastard probably did enjoy classical pieces and studied about them in his free time; which he didn’t have much to begin with.

As if sensing your presence, he stopped right in front of a replica of The Sleeping Venus, his hands dug deep in his pockets. “The shape of being is the visual demonstration of a state of being in which idealized existence is suspended in immutable slow-breathing harmony. All the sensuality has been distilled off from this sensuous presence, and all incitement; Venus denotes not the act of love but the recollection of it. The perfect embodiment of Giorgione’s dream, she dreams his dream herself,” he narrates in his baritone voice, “A little cordial, is it not?”

You took your gun out from your thigh holster and lowered it right at the back of his skull. “Don’t move another inch.”

“No need to be so hostile in a public setting, Y/N. I’m only here to look out for you and making sure you’re not forgetting who you are. Killing me isn’t part of the plan.”

“Neither was murdering my husband,” you growled, pushing the barrel harder against him, though the man didn’t budge before you. “I know that it wasn’t Toji who set off the bomb, Kento, you did.”

“We simply saw an opportunity that couldn’t be wasted. Two notorious mafia leaders in an unsuspecting supposed safe environment?” The fact he didn’t even deny it left you speechless. Kento spun around until your gun rested between his eyes, and he languidly pushed his glasses up his high nose as he looked down on you. “We could’ve killed two birds with one stone had you not been in the way.”

“You guys are out to kill me too now?”

“Don’t act too surprised. The Organization isn’t patient enough to wait for both leaders to die.”

“So you killed my husband?!” you argued, “He was my friend, I told you not to touch him!”

“Only in the exchange that you hand him to us,” Kento echoed, jogging your memory until you were kept up to date. “But it’s been five years and what has happened so far? You’re fraternizing with the enemy and even manufacturing drugs for your so-called husband. Now that he’s dead, you’re here in Italy, looking as stunning as ever as you wine and dine with a former lover,” Kento tilted his head to the side to study your appearance – smiling at how you seemed too bright and fashionable for a woman in supposed mourning.

“I hardly believe you’re actually affected by this at all.”

“How dare you! I’ve proven to no end my loyalty of the higher-ups!”

Kento didn’t bat an eye at your outburst. If anything, he stepped closer to your weapon. “Kill me if you wish, Y/N, but know the moment you put a bullet in my head, the Organization will place you on the same pedestal as Naoya’s and Gojo’s. I wouldn’t recommend such methods considering we’re already at unease on whose side you’re really on. If you do this, you will be our enemy.”

“I did everything for the Organization. What else would you want from me?”

“The contract was easy. We want both leaders – whether dead or alive – in our custody. If you don’t hold your side of the deal, it’s not only your life that we’ll take from you,” Kento pulled out a red coin that made your heart sink deep into your stomach for it served as a threat over the consequences of your actions.

He lowered your gun with the coin and smirked at you, his lips right beside the shell of your ear as he purred, “I suggest you be careful with what step of action you take next.”

“Oi, Nanami, you’re here!” Satoru’s voice suddenly boomed in the hallway. Nanami was as unbothered as ever from taking a step away from you, nodding to your gun which you quickly concealed right before Satoru arrived. You were frozen – rendered immobile with the flashing red metal from his palm – that you couldn’t even protest against Satoru wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I see you’ve met Mrs. Zen’in already.”

“Hmm, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam,” taking your hand in his, Kento’s eyes were nothing but eerie as he kissed your knuckles. “Shall we start our discussion?”

SUKI RANTS! Nanami quoted Sydney Joseph Friedberg (an art critic) in one of his dialogues. A little backstory on the painting was that the portrait was originally made by Giorgone, who had a student and also his lover (if I’m not mistaken) called Titian. Giorgone never finished the portrait because he died from the plague but Titiane finished it for him, symbolizing that Y/N still has a mission that connected her from Naoya even after his death and she has to finish something he started. The portrait is of a nude woman that symbolized oneness of nature and that the woman isn’t posed for the gaze of men, but rather they are dreaming, hence the quote: “Venus denotes not the act of love but the recollection of it. The perfect embodiment of Giorgione’s dream, she dreams his dream herself.” Nanami said the painting’s meaning resonated with Y/N’s situation too much since she wasn’t in love with Naoya, but she had a recollection of their moments that still represented their relationship, and that Naoya’s dream (goals) are also shared by Reader. I was gonna ask you guys what your theories are on that scene but I think this makes me sound cooler if I explain it so *lip bite emoji because I’m still broken over Naoya’s death*

taglist open (lmk if you want to be added/removed):

@sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @asshxcm @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo @evesmores @ambiguous-something @lilith412426 @kakashiharusohma @aizawap @yumeneji @dora-the-grownup @jotazinha @themrsgojo @d34r-s4t4n @marai-t @toji-bee @hai-cool @badsadbby @stesphy @peach-buns-unicorns @misslezah @gracefullyfallinglikeanime @iwaplant @mikiminaccch @riri-marley | bolded users cannot be tagged

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domthedevil · 4 years ago

Note

AHHHH SO CUTE, how about doing mammon next?

Of course our first man is excited to do this hahaha. Mammon is truly the most honest about his feelings for MC so I got all soft.

Be Gentle pt 6

Warnings: Mammon x afab!mc, loss of virginity

Mammon was furious. The fact that anyone else thought they had a chance of being your first was absurd. He was your first pact. He was your first friend. And you were his first love. There was no way he’d let anyone trivialize your wants and needs. Even if he wasn’t fully aware of it himself. So when he shouted the loudest and left the most dramatically, the other brothers could tell how upset he was. But they let him be. Too busy continuing a new conversation.

In his room, Mammon sat on the edge of his bed. Mindlessly scrolling through Akuzon for something, anything to take his mind off how angry his brothers had made him. But soon that anger turned to anxiety. Maybe you wouldn’t choose him. No matter how hard he fought to be your number one, maybe he still wasn’t...

A chime on his phone snapped him out of the depressive thought. Smiling a little, he opened the message you had just sent him.

“Are you busy?”

“Nope. What’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking about something, and I wanted to ask you a question.”

A question you couldn’t text? He frowned a moment, not sure what to say or what to expect.

“I’m in my room. C’mere.”

As soon as he sent the text, Mammon rushed to tidy his room. Cleaning was just too much, but he could at least move his dirty clothes off the bed and put his magazines in a neater pile. He froze when he heard you knock. Using a second to compose himself, Mammon slowly answered the door. Giving his confident grin he swung the door open.

Taking a step back you laughed at how eager he seemed, despite knowing he was probably preparing his room before answering. Wasting no time, you headed straight for his bed to sit down. You patted the spot next to you. Taking his hands in yours you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. You knew you were ready the moment you saw his reddened face.

“.....” Mammon was speechless. Absolutely lost for words as his face felt like fire. Your request was expected and yet not.

“Do you...not want to?” Your meek question snapped him out of his daze.

“N-no! I mean yes! I mean- ugh!!” Mammon pulled you I to a tight embrace. “I...I love you MC. I’ll be gentle.”

You felt yourself sink into the mattress as he rested beside you. Slowly you turned to face him, both of you leaning in for a few soft kisses. Looking into your eyes for any doubt, Mammon kissed you more cautiously than you’d have liked. Taking initiative, your hand rested against his chest while the other ran down his side. Like an invitation, Mammon’s eager hands traced your body with a methodical but clumsy touch.

“I wanna touch you more.” Mammon’s heated whisper cut through the sounds of your kissing and heavy breathing. Shedding your clothing, he watched as you tossed each article aside. Moving so that you were under him, the demon ran his fingertips in light trails from your chest to your thighs. A shiver ran over as you felt his eyes burning into you.

“M-Mammon...” he snapped out of yet another daze. As he locked lips with yours he made quick work of his own jacket and shirt. Not wanting to spoil the surprise just yet as he worked you up more and more, he stopped just after removing his pants. But you could see the strong outline of his hardening length. You could feel yourself getting wet as he began to touch you more roughly.

Nipping and biting at your neck, Mammon distracted you from his roaming hands on your chest. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he teased you. He felt your hips buck against his cock, still barely separated from his underwear. You heard a deep growl as he moved his face lower. Sucking and leaving small marks as he ducked between your legs. Now your hands tugged at his snowy locks, pulling gently as his tongue lapped at your sensitive clit. A small jolt of pleasure shot through your core as he slowly, teasingly prodded the hood of your clit. Dragging out each sensation. Your thighs pressed against his head as he added his fingers into the mix. Suckling your pearl, his finger tips coated themselves in your slick; he began moaning at how wet you were.

You whispered how good it felt. How he was stretching you and touching places you’d never felt before. His hips rutted against the bed while you spoke. Mammon was getting desperate for attention. He hovered above you once again as his fingers moved faster, curled higher. Your expression was irresistible. Eyes half shut, mouth slightly open, panting and breathing heavy. All at his touch.

“I can’t take ya whisperin like this...MC...”

“I’m ready. I want it.” Your confident tone reassured him once again.

Kissing you soft at first, but quickly gaining momentum Mammon removed his underwear. You watched as his impressive cock moved between your folds. Spreading your legs wide for him, you got a much clearer view. You could see the way his dick glistened with your essence. Parting from you to meet your eyes, Mammon pressed himself against your entrance. Slowly, too slowly, he pressed the head of his dick inside you. It was nothing at first, but the sudden and sharp pain startled you as he kept moving. Trying not to make a sound was too much, the whimper you let out scared him too.

“M-MC! Are ya okay...?”

You nodded, now that he had given you a moment to adjust you could feel the pleasure of being full. With a wide smile you kissed his cheek.

“It feels good now, you can move.”

You heard him audibly gulp.

“Fuck that’s hot. Lemme know if...it’s too much.”

Mammon’s hips moved in gentle waves inside you. The feel of his entire length burying in you had you clutching the sheets. But yours eyes stayed open and focused on his. His deep colored eyes made a fire in your core build. He would always be your first man now.

“Mammon...it feels tight. And...full.”

Any comment you made had him thrusting deeper insider you. Leaning down he kissed and nibbled at your chest. Tasting your skin turned him on so much, and the glisten of sweat on you only added to your flavor.

He hissed as his hips unconsciously moved faster. Your moans grew louder as he tried his best not to. He wasn’t sure what kind of sounds he would make, obviously over excited for this moment. Your bent legs pressed against his waist as he moved. Mammon’s fingers intertwined with yours against the bed. The extra leverage helped his hips move faster. Though his pace was even, his cock seemed to hit a new spot every time. Your lips chanted his name while your voice cracked. The warmth from your core began to spread like wildfire.

“Harder...”

Mammon obliged immediately, loving the way your walls squeezed around him. He could feel how badly your body wanted to come.

“I’m so hot. Mammon I feel like I’m close.”

“Yeah? You like getting fucked like this?”

“M-Mammon...”

Your whine was all he needed. He wanted to tease you more, say dirty things to you while you both got closer to climaxing. But he promised to be gentle. This time at least. His words definitely stirred something in you. Made your toes and fingers tingle. Mammon’s cock hit deep inside you at a relentless pace. He was overindulging, but he was the Avatar of Greed.

“Come for me MC...I’ll come with ya.”

Pressing your lips against his neck, you couldn’t help biting him slightly as your body shook and quaked around Mammon’s cock. Feeling it so deep made your whole body sensitive. His hips continued to move and drove you insane. It felt good but too good. The spasming inside you grew in intensity. Mammon let out a low grunt and buried himself inside you again. His moan was almost a gasp as he released his thick seed into you.

Mammon composed himself with a quick shake of his head. Your face was a mix of pleasure and exhaustion, but his worried expression made you laugh.

“Hey! Don’t laugh!” His flustered state returned as he hugged you tightly, hiding his face in your neck. “...you’re not suppose to laugh...”

“Not at you. Im just...really happy.”

Mammon met your warm gaze again. Seeing your soft expression he kissed you deeply. Showering your cheeks in small pecks. Your arms held him just as tightly, and this time you hid your face in his neck.

“Can we...do it again?” Mammon couldn’t see your face, but he felt the heat on your cheeks.

“O-of course! THE Great Mammon is always ready.”

This is a continuation of a request, read more here:

Be Gentle (Levi x AFAB!MC)

Be Gentle (Belphegore x AFAB!MC)

Be Gentle (Satan x AFAB!MC)

Be Gentle (Beelzelbub x AFAB!MC)

Be Gentle (Asmodeus x AFAB!MC)

#obey me fanfic #om! fanfic #ns//fw #obey me smut #om! smut #obey me #om!#be gentle #obey me mammon #om! mammon

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queenshelby · 3 years ago

Text

A New Life

Part Eleven: Wrestling

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,486

Warning: Smut

Two weeks had passed since your trip to Kerry and you believed that Laura had finally realised that Cillian was not interested in her.

But, even if she was, this didn’t change anything between you and Cillian as you continued to hide your little affair with each other. One could hardly call it an affair though. You were friends. Friends with some benefits and tonight was one of those nights he visited you after Max had gone to bed.

You only had four weeks left with each other before you would return back home to Australia and you most certainly wanted to make the most of the time you had left.

Unfortunately, Cillian could never stay over which was something that bothered you and you always wondered whether it bothered him too. But if Max knew, everyone else would know too, so, after you had slept with each other, he would normally leave and then pretend the next day that nothing had happened.

Whilst, as an actor, this was easy for him, you struggled with it, wanting to kiss him and touch him when you were amongst friends. But that clearly wasn’t part of the deal and all intimacy was reserved for when you were alone with each other.

Because of this, you couldn’t keep your hands of each other when he finally did come and visit you and tonight was no different.

Within ten minutes of Cillian’s arrival, you were both completely naked on your bed and Cillian’s hands were on your thighs, spreading your legs further as he went straight to work with his tongue.

You moaned as the heat of his tongue mixed with the cool night breeze and Cillian moaned as he plunged his tongue inside you, tasting you. He made short work of bringing you to an orgasm leaving you breathless and needy for more.

‘Fuck you are so good at this’ you huffed out as you slowly came down from your high but Cillian didn’t give you any time to relax.

‘Turn over’ Cillian growled and you complied with his request and went onto all fours, wiggling your ass suggestively.

‘Take me Cillian’ you groaned as Cillian ran his hand over your bare back and down over your ass. ‘Cillian, please... I need you inside me’ you demanded.

You had spent all day together and couldn’t touch or kiss, but now you were desperate and needed to have him.

‘As you wish’ he smirked as he pressed the firm head of his cock against your opening.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as he held your bare hips and pushed his length inside you from behind.

Being pressed against the pile of pillows in front of you made you feel fuller somehow and you pushed back against him with his thrusts, hungrily taking every inch of him. He moved his hands up to hold your shoulders as he pumped his cock into you, causing you to moan loudly.

‘Ssh Love, you have to be quiet’ he reminded you while covering your mouth with his hand despite the fact that the noises you made spurred him on.

‘Fuck me harder’ you demanded, moaning into his hand, and it wasn’t long until he was pounding you roughly from behind.

While Cillian kept one hand on your mouth, he reached under you with the other to pinch your nipples, sending you over the edge again.

‘Oh god yes yes yes’ you groaned into the palm of his hand as your orgasm washed over you and, within moments, Cillian cried out as well as he came and filled you with his warm cum from behind.

‘Fuck Y/N’ he groaned as his cock was pulsating inside you and his cum mixed with your own liquids before running down the inside of your thighs.

But, just because he came, didn’t mean that he was done. He had great stamina and, shortly after he pulled out of you, you found yourself beneath him.

‘Eager are we, Mr Murphy?’ you asked, causing Cillian to smirk.

‘Always Y/N…I just love being inside of you’ he said and, just as he did, you whimpered as he drove into you again as deep as he could. You couldn't think straight enough to say anything by this point, but he didn't seem to be waiting for a response.

‘Fuck Cillian, I'm going to cum...’ you gasped after another fifteen minutes of passionate love making and, just as you did, he adjusted his position which allowed the area above his cock to rub against your clit as he thrusted into you with circular motions.

‘Yes, fuck…yes’ you moaned loudly as you came again, hard and fast, forgetting all about Max sleeping in the room next to yours.

Ignoring how loud you were, Cillian continued to pound into you and you cried out again while running your tongue across his neck and throat.

Cillian growled and increased the speed and force of his thrusting, making you cry out even louder as he dragged out your orgasm.

When you finally came down from your high, but Cillian hadn’t reached his just yet, you thought about something different, something you had read about in a magazine the other day.

You wrapped your legs around Cillian’s waist as he continued to fuck you, indicating to him that you didn’t want him to change positions which was what he would usually do after you came.

Then, you pulled him close for a passionate kiss while you reached between the two of you to collect some of the slick juices from your extremely wet core while feeling his cock thrusting in and out of you with your fingertips before playing with his tight balls.

The sensation of your fingers running over his balls made him groan into your mouth but, little did he know that you hadn’t reached your destination yet.

After teasing him a little, you moved your hand away from in between you and ran your wet finger through the crack of his ass while he continued to make love to you.

Then, slowly and carefully, you slid your finger into his tight hole. Just a little bit at first and, after he groaned again loudly into your mouth in between passionate kisses, you added a bit more.

The sensation overwhelmed Cillian completely and he broke the kiss to let out a loud groan while his chin dropped open.

‘Does that feel good?’ you asked as Cillian’s movements became more erratic and his moans became louder and louder by the second.

‘So good...’ he murmured, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. ‘I'm going to cum inside you so hard...’ he then huffed out and you were incredibly turned on simply by the thought of it.

‘Oh god yes…fill me up... Cillian I want you to fill me with your cum’ you moaned, racing closer towards another orgasm yourself.

Cillian grunted, fucking you hard, his cock wrapped in your snug pussy while your index finger was buried in his ass, teasing him.

You could feel the layer of sweat between you, making everything feel dirty as your slick skin rubbed together. You gasped again and shouted out his name as, suddenly, you came again and Cillian grunted several times, as thick bursts of cum filled your tight pussy once more. You could feel his legs trembling as he rode out his orgasm and you kissed him and pulled him close, too exhausted to move.

Eventually, when you both came down from your high, you removed your finger and Cillian pulled out of you which is when, suddenly, you heard a noise coming from near the bedroom door.

Quickly, you pulled the doona over you both which is when you noticed Max opening the door.

‘What are you guys doing?’ he asked, rubbing his eyes before telling you that he had been hearing some weird noises coming from your bedroom.

‘Uhm…Max…uhm’ you stammered, cheeks flushing red, unsure what to say.

‘You guys look funny and all sweaty. Are you sick?’ he then asked and you continued to stammer something of no substance ‘And why is Cillian in your bed? Is he sleeping here tonight? Why didn’t you tell me?’ Max then asked which is when, finally, Cillian responded to his many queries.

‘We were wrestling’ Cillian said with an awkwardly serious facial expression, causing you to swallow your giggle.

‘Why?’ Max then asked.

‘Because it’s a sport I’ve taken up and your mum is helping me train’ Cillian explained, causing Max to nod.

‘Why do you wrestle in mummy’s bed without wearing any clothes though?’ he then asked and Cillian took a minute or two to find an explanation.

‘You guys are weird’ Max finally observed before asking for a glass of water.

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