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stuckybarton · 4 years ago

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Sucker For Pain i

SUMMARY: You were new to the team, but what everyone didn't know was you weren't so new to the God of Mischief. CHARACTERS: Loki Laufeyson x Ex!Reader [Ex to Lovers again?] WARNINGS: Profanities. Suggestive Themes. Slight Angst and horrible self-image. Grammar Mistakes. English not being my first language. [Not Beta’d tho] WORDS: 2,956 CHAPTERS: [1/3] A/N; Life happened and yeah, didn’t have much time to write. Not my best work for this mini-series, but I’m fighting through for this. Hope you guys enjoy~

PART TWO | PART THREE

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"Agent Y/N Y/L/N." You introduced yourself the first moment you were escorted into the compound by Director Nick Fury. Multiple sets of faces both new and old had come to greet you. For a moment you wouldn't even believe that this is was the new life you would find yourself to be a part of from now on.

Years in the job for SHIELD before disappearing off the grid to get as much information about HYDRA, everyone had thought you had betrayed them and you had accepted that they would think so lowly of you after all the near-deaths you had to endure on the job. Even with the mission becoming more of a death wish, you had accepted the role Nick had given you all those years ago and now you were rewarded, immensely. A spot on the Avengers as part of the Earth's Mightiest Heroes.

The familiar face of Nat was the first to greet you with a hug. A fiercely tight one, it had been so long since you've seen a friend. Then your eyes fell towards the rest of the team; Bucky Barnes, who you had a few close encounters with during your time with HYDRA. You had witness everything they had done to him and stood on trail to clean his name. Steve Rogers, who, with Sharon Carter, had assisted in guarding Steve while SHIELD was still under HYDRA's control. But among the familiar faces, one stood out the most.

Loki Laufeyson.

To many, the man was a snake, a God that had once brought death and destruction in New York. But to you, he was different, this was the man that you had spent your lonely nights with while under the guise of a traitor. It had once just been a physically thing between the two of you, neither wanting to know about each other's lives. You knew he was a God, a man that had wronged the world, but he had never known about you, the woman that had painted yourself as a traitor for the better of the world. The one that had been called every name on the book for the sake of making sure you did your part right.

Then it got serious between the two of you. Admission of love was told between both of your lips. But it was dangerous for you two to be together especially when you were already told by Fury that you can come back to the surface. You didn't know what side he was on, and you did not have the heart to make him choose if the time would come.

So you two parted. A month ago. The pain still throbbing you like an unattended bullet hole right through your heart. It was still so painful to look at him and not remember him crumbling on his knees begging you to stay. The first sob that escaped his lips and forever haunted your dreams. A never-ending loop in the back of your head as your demons screamed at you for breaking an already broken man.

"I for one am happy you're finally here. Another woman to add to an already Man's Man world in the compound." Nat teased glancing towards the other individuals that had come to know the new face. "With introductions out of the way, you've got a lot of explaining to do for the past few years."

You could only smile at your friend. You did have so much to explain to her, things had been murky between you and Clint, but after everything, Nat had refused to believe you would betray them, betray her, and it was finally a relief to be able to return back home, seeing the people that mean the most to you.

"Tell me about it." You muttered allowing Nat to quickly pull your away from the crowd, but it missed your eyes how he was still looking. Ice blue eyes a contract to the burning gaze he had towards you.

Forget about him. Forget about him. You were here for a new opportunity. No him. Never him.

For the next few weeks, everyone had grown to accept you in your new role as part of the Avengers. You kept up with Steve, Bucky, and Sam during their runs. Sam more than happy to finally have someone that had the same pace as him, but only for you to laugh and out run him just to get a reaction out of the high flier. Tony and Bruce had also found a kinship in you, having provided them enough information about HYDRA's experiments and location made most of their missions easier. Then there was Nat and Clint, your confidant in this new life. Every single moment that was not dedicated to a mission was spent with them; may it be movie night or a simple get together outside the compound, often times bringing Wanda and Vision along just to mess with you and call you a 5th wheel of the group.

But among number of members on the team, everyone had noticed you constantly avoided one Thor Odinson and one Loki Laufeyson. The only real time you would even dare talk to either of the brothers would be during training--other than that, you tried your best to avoid them, Loki most especially. Every single moment that would force the two of you to be in the same room, Loki had a glare while you tried your best to avoid his gaze.

Everyone noticed, everyone didn't seem to worry too much. It comes with having a former-villain part of the team. They thought you would eventually get used to the God's presence just as much as they did.

"You ever gonna tell me what's going on between you and Loki?" Nat inquired avoiding your punch.

What you hated the most about sparring with Nat was her capability of multitasking. Talking and snooping about someone else's business while also kicking their ass in the process--this was the predicament you were in right in this very moment.

"Nothing is going on." You muttered landing back first on the mat after being thrown like a rag doll by Nat. Eyes looking at the ceiling, you wondered if it was a good idea to actually come clean to her about her past with the God of Mischief. "I know what he's done to New York and I think you can't blame me for taking precaution when it comes to him."

Nat now comes hovering on top of you, the narrowed eyes and gentle smirk was all you needed to know--she knew it was bullshit. But when she had stopped pushing you for more information, it was enough for you to just change the subject.

"They found Dominic?" You inquired. One of the first big missions that everyone was focusing on was one of the leading Scientist for HYDRA. With the exposure of HYDRA to the world, some of them had moved away and found themselves in much shadier company, much to everyone's radar now spiking.

Dominic Wagner was, in part, partially responsible for the Winter Soldier program in the modern era. One of the pioneers in moving the project into a much younger sets of test subjects. You lost contact with the man as soon as your got back into the surface, but it had also meant a target was on your back when they found out you were a double agent.

"He's in Russia. Wasting away all the funding for the program with parties" Nat points out. "Still a better way to spend the money that abducting kids everywhere."

You nodded, memories of files upon files for the prospects still haunted you to this day.

"When are you taking him out?" You inquired. In your time with the SHIELD, the red in both of your ledger had made you two a hot commodity if the situation present itself as shoot to kill. Neither of you would hesitate. You knew you would now, after everything, but if it means one less bad people in this earth, you would swallow your new morals.

"Fury wants him alive." She pointed out finally standing back up to her own two feet, leaving you on your back, staring at the ceiling in deep thought. "I know as much as you do, we want him dead for everything he has done, but we need him alive so we can get the others."

You nodded, this was one of the few things you had to get used to as part of the team. Death was best solution in SHIELD--at least in your team, not here. As long as you were part of Steve's team, you would need to choose whether or not killing would be the best option. Hope that you weren't so blessed to be given in your time under.

"I get a first shot when we don''t have any use of him anymore." You muttered finally standing back up with Nat's help. Steps faltering at the sight of the God of Mischief, training with the likes of Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, and Bucky Barnes. A weird mix up, but wasn't hard to understand why.

"Why don't you shoot your shots with him for now." Nat teased, finally making you break from staring at the plain black shirt and green sweatshort-clad Loki Laufeyson. "If we try to ignore the death count during his attack, he is sort-of your type in men." Nat wiggled her brows. quick to avoid you as you attempted to swat her in the ass, eyes now turned away from God and his training partners.

"By type, you mean psychotic with possible Daddy-issue? Then you might just be right." You snort.

"I'm offended you think of me as such, Darling"

Jerking your head to the owner of the voice, how the hell did he sneak up behind you without you noticing. You glanced at Nat in panic and like the traitor that she was, made a terrible excuse of being needed in Bruce's lab. Now being left in the man's presence, you could all but remember the last time you had been this close to the man.

Heartbreaks.

Words that you didn't mean.

Words that he didn't mean.

It still hurt you, and you were sure it hurts him just as much, if not more now, finally realizing why there had been a need for a breakup between the two of them all those weeks ago.

"Here I thought I would have someone to trust. You mortals continue to disappoint me." He hissed.

Your eyes glanced at the other training trio, noticing all three of them were in their own little world to even noticed what was going on between the two of them.

"Tell me, Darling..." He whispered, head leaning towards the shell of your ears. The familiar shiver run through your skin as just his voice. Memories of the very things his silver tongue had whispered had you flustered and breathless, more than from your earlier training with Nat. "Was it satisfying to play with a God?"

Before you could even mutter a word, his constantly gentle hand now covered your jaw, emitting a squeak from your lips and stopping you from saying a word. He was never this forceful, nor did he do anything that would hurt you. Was this the true nature of the man you had finally thought you have been the best part of you. To have loved a man that everyone was right to stay away from?

"Or is it shame finally coming to you, to be ever involved with someone like me?"

You tried to pry his hand away from you, but he was too strong--stronger than you could ever think of being.

"Or is this you taking your opportunity to move from one bed to another? Who will it be this time, Y/N? My oaf of a brother or will it be Soldier out of time? Who will you whore this time?"

And you finally snapped. With a resounding slap, all three individuals had heard your attack on the man and Loki finally releasing his hold on your jaws. A chuckle escaped his lips and only brought the first line of tears to fall from your eyes. You never wanted to believe him to be a monster, but here he was, proving her wrong.

"I am in doubt of the foundation of our relationship for the past years, Y/N. I am the God of Mischief and Lies and the only mortal I had ever truly opened to had done this to me. Lied to me for such a long time, lied about the entirety of our relationship."

"You will never understand."

"Oh no," he chuckled darkly, eyes glaring straight into your own. "I understand well enough to know, you would never love someone like me and I deserve every lie and heartache I am enduring because of everything I have ever done in my past."

Before you could defend yourself and the genuinity of your relationship with the God, he had made his excuse. Leaving you to ponder of the true damage of your breakup with Loki, and the aftermath it had now held for the both of you. He was right, you had lied, and either way, their relationship will fall apart because of those lies.

He was the God of Mischief and Lies.

Yet, he did not expect for this biggest lie to break him the most. The separation had been painful, he had always hoped for a better life with you. Then a month passed since your breakup, he sees you, it hits him like a sharp knife to the chest all over again. He experience the pain of a stab to the chest, but it would never compare to the pain of seeing you in this very compound with the truth of your life that you refused to ever open to him.

This was karma coming to haunt him it seems.

It had been well over a week now since the first time he had actually confronted you about everything. It wasn't how he planned for things to go through. He never wanted to hurt you, but he was a monster after all. A monster that his own father had told his people to avoid. A bedtime story to scare mischievous kids into submission.

He had always thought after everything he had to endure, had to do, had to escape, he could finally live a peaceful life. A life to finally start anew. A life where he could finally change for the best. A mortal woman had made him make those ideas come into reality, you had always became the reason why he would never have his redemption in life.

A bitter idea with no possible resolution.

How could he have ever believed that anyone would ever love someone like him? After everything he had ever done, he was never allowed to be loved. You had proved that somehow.

'Mr. Laufeyson, you are needed for a meeting with the team'

Breaking from his little bubble. He sighed finally returning back to reality, into the little comforts the library could give him. The week had been gruelling for him, three individual witnessed the altercation between himself and you. It had spread like wildfire, but thanking the Gods that no one was able to listen to the conversation.

He had to endure most of the questioning. In everyone's eyes, he was, after all, still under everyone's constant scrutiny. A man that no one could trust. But he refused to say a single word knowing you did the same thing. It was better to keep your mouth shut instead of letting people know exactly what had happened. Somehow that brought a smile on his face. He might not share a future with you, but might as well make the most out of making your life a living hell, as much you did it to him.

Shutting the book he was barely even reading, he placed the book back into the shelf before walking his way towards the meeting room.

He could easily teleport, but he preferred to enjoy his moments of peace without his oaf of a brother breathing down his neck or Stark constantly testing his patience with his quips. It also gave him a moment to school his features, he knew well enough about the mission to know you would also be in attendance. Be more invested in this mission than anyone else.

It was a few things he was relearning about you now that you were out in the open as everyone claims you to be. You were a free spirited being that could meld with anyone you were in the area with. He had watched you throw relentless jabs at Tony during your first few days that had the man surprisingly raise a white flag. But the most dangerous thing he had to learn was the familial relationship you had with one Natasha Romanoff and Clint Burton, two people that he kept his distance with the most.

"Professor Snape has finally graced us with his presence."

Loki has learned since joining the team to choose his battle when it comes to Tony. This was one of those moment. Finding a vacant chair besides his brother, he had taken his seat. A big mistake on his part as he finds from across the table, you sat. In between a glaring Romanoff and Barton.

Wearing a smirk, just to get on the two super spies' nerve, he turned his attention right back into the meeting. He begins formulating a few little schemes to not only get on the two's nerved, but most especially yours.

#loki laufeyson oneshot #loki laufeyson one shot #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson imagines #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki one shot #loki oneshot #loki imagines #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki x you #loki angst #loki fluff #sucker for pain

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mk-wizard · 3 years ago

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Sailor Moon 90s Anime is STILL the best

Hi. I know I am on a Sailor Moon binge here, but after seeing all of Crystal, Eternal and on R (season 2) of the first anime, I want to get this all off of my chest... and before I go further, since these are all animes, I will refer to them as 90s, Crystal and Eternal. And after watching them all, I have to say that the 90s takes the gold medal as the best Sailor Moon anime so far and this is why;

1- It had the best pacing. - While I admit that sometimes, it went too far with the filler, 98% of the time, it worked with the 90s. It took its time to make you get to know the characters for better or for worse, it made you see different sides of them, it gave them a chance to truly develop and be multi-dimensional, and it made you care about them. When a death happened, it felt tragic. When a victory happened, you cheered. And when you saw what side characters did, it mattered. I mean, who can ever forget the contribution 90s Naru Osaka had to the story? And everyone who has seen the 90s anime cannot forget her. More on the character development and getting to know characters later.

Sure, it wasn’t true to the manga and even the characters had different personalities, but I let that slide by because when Crystal and Eternal did follow the manga to the letter, we didn’t get a chance to digest anything. The only characters who develop are Usagi, Chibi-Usa and the outer guardians, and for the last bunch, it was the bare minimum. Crystal and Eternal were fun rides and I would be lying if I said I didn’t like them, but they were like roller coasters. They gave you a thrill, but fast and been done. The 90s was like a slow scenic ride that gave you surprises, emotionally touched you, made you cry, made you laugh, made you root for the heroes and even at the age of 37 years now, I keep rewatching this series.

2- The art of the 90s was better because it was sketchy, dark and edgier. - I know Sailor Moon doesn’t seem like this on the surface because the heroines are lovely girls in cute costumes, it emphasizes femininity and all things pretty, it has a romantic theme and is all about love, but Sailor Moon is also one of the darkest, grittiest, edgy and violent magical girl animes I have ever seen since Magic Knights Rayearth. Sailor Moon has on screen deaths which were permanent most of the time, on screen stabbings and the drawing of blood, and fights that got so hardcore, that real punches and kicks were thrown. The dark edges, black line art and sharp edges worked with the atmosphere of the story. I mean, look at the difference between the halls Dark Kingdom of the 90s (above) and that of Crystal.

And if that is not enough to win you over, the characters were much more animated, organic and conveyed more emotion whether they were exaggerated or serious.

In Crystal, the expressions and body language was very dulled down. Not to mention, very stiff.

Everything is also too bright and soft which makes the characters look like velvet dolls with too much make up especially with the line art. I will give them props for adding better details, cleaner lines, the glow of magical items, and details in the gems, but everything else is all wrong.

Eternal was better, but still not quite there. The colours are still way too bright and the characters still look too much like dolls from having line art that is too wispy. And I really do not like how the eyes have this unnatural glow to them. The edgy scenes become lost with all this brightness.

3- We got to see that there was so much more the characters than just heroes or villains. - Since Usagi is the titular character, let us just talk about her in the 90s since I could go on forever about how much we learned about the characters. In any version of Sailor Moon, Usagi’s role as a Sailor Guardian has always been the core of the story and she does indeed show progress as one. However, the 90s tells us that no matter what, she is still going to be herself too which is just as important and she shows character development as just plain old Usagi too. The manga, Crystal and Eternal which only paint Usagi as not doing anything right except be a Sailor Guardian, but the 90s show her hidden talents and learning new skills. For example, she was bad at cooking at the beginning of the series.

However, by Sailor Moon R, she gets the hang of it and is able to cook a meal by herself. Yes, she is messy, clumsy, never gets the hang of making cookies and is nowhere near Makoto’s level especially when it comes to presentation, but she is good at cooking food.

Another hidden talent of Usagi’s is her drawing skills. She isn’t just good at drawing. She’s got talent at it, so in the 90s, Usagi is quite the artist.

And it is admirable that 90s Usagi is open to trying new things even if she isn’t good at them. She practices, she explores and tries to enlighten herself. Sure, academics, coordination and organization will never be her fortes, but she really does have other and tries to discover more.

In Crystal and Eternal, she is good at being Sailor Moon, she is a good friend and a good girlfriend, but that is it. She is one dimensional here and she isn’t the only one to painted like that. Everyone is only the obvious and that is all the audience gets.

4- Better character redemption. - I mentioned before that Sailor Moon had grit and was dark, but the 90s also made it more complex and did character redemption right. It was open to the possibility of bad people becoming good. For instance, the Black Moon Clan Specter Sister are unforgettable for being successfully redeemed.

Yes, I admit that the monster of the day would get killed by the hands of the Sailor Guardians, but they also clearly showed that the monsters were not people or even alive. They were made of energy, clay or sand. When the monster of the day was a possessed innocent, they were saved through exorcism. Very rarely was an actual person ever killed and even when they were, it was either by the hands of another villain, their own hand, self defense or as a last resort. They never used killing as means of dealing with every single bad guy.

Furthermore, the bridge arc about the Makai Tree that also served as a prologue to Sailor Moon R could be seen as a story about mercy, kindness and love. It stands out as the one time the big bad was actually a misunderstood big good being the Makai Tree herself. And even Ail an An were never bad, but were raised bad. And even then, they changed. This story is unique only to the 90s so far, but it was great and stood out for that reason.

In Crystal, the heroines will kill a person without a second thought which I am shocked that no one brings up how repetitive and contradictory that is. The pretty warrior of love and justice should by all means protect the Earth, but doing so by killing off the bad guy all time is not love or justice. I also think the caption in this picture sums up how I feel about how the one and only time bad guys were given a chance to be redeemed...

Eternal was better because the Asteroid Guardians got redeemed and saved. However, even then, I feel like there is still a double standard. They were one of the good guys to begin with and Sailor Guardians. In the 90s, the Amazoness Quartet wasn’t, but were given a chance to change anyway. I find it cool that the Quartet turned out to be Sailors and even better that they will go on to become Chibi-Usa’s team, but mercy is not just for your allies or for your own benefit. Everyone should be given at least one chance to fix their mistakes.

5- We got to know Mamoru better. - I admit that no matter the incarnation, Tuxedo Mask will never be as powerful as Sailor Moon except when he is King Endymion, but the 90s take on his character made him better even if they did omit his super attack being Tuxedo le Smoking Bomber. What the well dressed masked man lacked in firepower, he made up for in intelligence, insight about the enemy’s weakness, courage and skill. The only times he ever did get overpowered was either by bad luck or because it was intentional because he was taking a hit for Sailor Moon. And even then, he always got back up. He’s a real man like that.

More importantly, we get to know him as Mamoru too. Even before he confides being an amnesiac to Usagi, we see his struggles with feeling alone in the world from having no memory of his life before a tragic accident which also killed his parents. Now, him being a stern cynical person makes sense because I probably wouldn’t be pleasant to be around either if I lived with that. Once his walls come down, we see that deep down, all he wants is to belong somewhere and have a family. It should also be noted that 90s Mamoru doesn’t love Usagi because he is “destined” to. He loves her because he wants to. Even during that brief period where he broke up with Usagi was an act of love. The thing I also always liked best about 90s Mamoru is that even though he loves Usagi more than life itself, his life doesn’t revolve around her which is a healthy thing and he tries to encourage Usagi to be the same way for her own good. He is studying to be a doctor, he has a job and he even has his own crowd which I think is great.

In Crystal and Eternal, while I do see an attempt at trying to follow this trend by showing that Usagi and Mamoru were on their way to falling in love even before they got their memories back, I still find he was one note and we never really learn much about him that has nothing to do with Tuxedo Mask, Endymion or anything royal related. Sure, we know that he’s studying to be a doctor and is a genius to an extent too, but that is it.

I would like to end this by admitting that the 90s was not perfect either, but out of all the takes on the tale of Sailor Moon as of date. Crystal and Eternal were ok, but they just cannot stand up to the quality of the 90s. The only thing I can say I find Crystal did better than the 90s were the costume designs. Specifically, how they let Venus keep her chain belt, Pluto’s key chain belt, Uranus and Neptune’s shorter gloves, Uranus’s sword, Uranus having two earrings, Mercury’s suit is shoulder less which I always found suited her better, and I liked Sailor Moon’s brooch and necklace better in season 1.

And even then, I should have liked it if Jupiter’s antenna was always on display as it is just something I always found cute in the manga, I liked Mars’ five point star earrings better in the 90s, and I like how in the 90s, each of the Inner Guardians’ sailor stripes were a little different.

Of course, this is all my opinion. I would like to hear which of the animes did Sailor Moon right in your opinion and why. Thanks for reading and stay safe, and have a great day.

#sailor moon anime #sailor moon reboot #sailor moon crystal #sailor moon eternal #pretty guardian sailor moon #pretty guardian sailor moon crystal #bishoujo senshi sailor moon #90s anime #sailor moon 90s #character development #storytelling #quality #critique

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90spumkin · 4 years ago

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Invisible

Request: hi can you please do a spencer reid x bau fem reader and can it based on the song invisible by 5sos where the reader feels like she is invisible because everybody talks over her and trips her and nobody does anything.also they hate her besides spencer, rossi, penelope and hotch and they hate her because of jj because she is jealous of how the reader and spencer are close together so one day the reader gets kidnapped and is forced to read her song journal or her journal.so spencer gets mad at the team when they try to confront him

A/N: I really hope this is what you were looking for when you made the request. I hope it’s not absolute trash. Thank you for the request anon! The song that was apart of the request is Invisible by 5 Seconds of Summer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU! Reader

Warnings: slight swearing, angst I think, description of torture

Word Count: 1875

It was a nice sunny day in Virginia, one of its less humid days. That should be a sign it was going to be a good day, right? Wrong, y/n had a bad gut feeling it was going to be a very bad day. Worse than normal.

Y/n was sitting in the BAU parking garage watching a few people from her team walk in the building. Emily, JJ, and Morgan were genuinely nice people…except to y/n. They hadn’t always been rude or distant towards her that just started up recently, and y/n knew why. She took a deep breath and exited her car, making her way inside the same way the others had.

She knew her gut feeling was right as soon as she walked through the double glass doors. She tried to make a beeline for her desk, keeping her head low to avoid eye contact. Things didn’t go as planned.

Y/n tripped over a box of files bumping into Morgan who bumped into Emily who spilled coffee all down the front of her white blouse. Y/n instantly started to panic, “Oh my God, Emily I am so sorry! I’ll get some towels!”

Emily gritted her teeth and just said, “Don’t!”, she stormed off grabbing her go bag to change out of her now ruined blouse. Morgan just huffed and made his way to his desk.

Y/n made it to her desk finally with no other accidents. She sat down and put her head in her hands trying to choke back a sob. She felt a presence next to her but didn’t look up till she felt a hand on her shoulder, “Y/n are you okay?”

She looked up to see Spencer Reid standing before her with a worried look on his face. She gave him a small smile. He didn’t seem convinced due to the worry line between his eyebrows deepening. They stared at each other a little longer than what was probably necessary. JJ got their attention by walking by waving files and announcing, “We’ve got a case.”

Y/n saw JJ pause and look at Spencer’s hand on her shoulder and gave y/n a quick glare before continuing her way to the round table room. Spencer moved his hand and started to trail behind JJ while having a conversation with Morgan. He glanced back over his shoulder to make sure she was following and when he went to wait for her, she shook her hand urging him on without her.

Why was it so hard to push him away? She knew the others no longer liked her because of how close the two of them had gotten. They felt as if she was stealing Spencer from them when all she wanted was to be friends with them all. She let out the second sigh of the day and made her way to the briefing, falling in step with Hotch and Rossi who both gave her a warm smile.

The briefing went by in a flash. It was a whirlwind of information and thoughts being bounced back and forth, and like always y/n’s insight was overlooked. The flight went by just as fast. After going over the files and new information from the bubbly Garcia, y/n had gone to sit at the back of the plane. The entire time ignoring Spencer’s worried glances.

Once they arrived at their destination, the team split off to do their assignments given by Hotch. Y/n was with Spencer putting together the victimology. The whole time she felt his eyes on her, but she never said a word hoping some how she would become invisible to him like she was to the others.

She didn’t realize how much time had passed when they got a call from Hotch telling them they were closer to the warehouse Garcia had said belong to one of the suspects. They grabbed their vest and took off as fast as humanly possible.

The warehouse was a dark and looming building and y/n felt the hairs on her neck stand up. Spencer walked around the SUV and said, “There’s no time to wait for the others we��re going to have to split up. Meet me in the back, okay?” She nodded and went to scope out the left side of the build, but Spencer grabbed her hand and search her eyes for a moment before giving her hand a quick squeeze and letting go.

She crept around the building, gun aimed and eyes looking for any sign of movement. She thought she heard something behind her, but when she turned, she was met with absolutely nothing. She turned to continue her way towards the back of the building, and that’s when everything went black.

Y/n woke with an ache on the left side of her head and she was pretty sure there was blood running down her face. She was tied to a chair in a big empty room with a light fixture hanging above her. Once her eyes fully focused, she realized there was a camera aimed towards her and man standing behind it.

“Ah you’re awake. Time to have some fun.”, his voice was raspy like he smoked 50 packs of cigarettes a day. Y/n knew the unsub liked to toy with his victims, she saw all the videos in the time before the call from Hotch. He was going to torture her darkest thoughts and deepest secrets from her. Y/n’s lips tingled, and her stomach twisted into knots.

“I know you know what’s about to happen, but I found something that’s going to make this a little more interesting.”, the unsub walked around the camera showing it the journal he held in his hand.

----

Spencer was absolutely frantic, there was no other way to describe it. He felt so stupid for splitting up from y/n. It was his fault she was kidnapped, and it was his fault they were seeing her on the screen. The others were rushing around and he could hear them talking to Garcia trying to figure out where he was keeping her.

On the screen the unsub was waving around a book and Spencer could see the pleading in y/n’s eyes. At the sound of the smack that went across y/n’s face everyone stopped.

“You’re going to read this so your little team watching this really knows what you think of them.”, the unsub was gripping y/n’s jaw tightly. She shook her head viciously which landed another smack across her already bruised cheek.

Tears stung Spencer’s eyes and he said, “We need to find her now!”. JJ put her hand on his arm trying to calm him, but he shrugged it off, “Don’t touch me.”

He turned back towards the screen at the sound of y/n’s broken voice, “Um the first part is part of a song. No one sees me I fade away, lost inside a memory of someone's life It wasn't mine Just me and my shadow and all of my regrets Who am I? Who am I when I don't know myself? Who am I? Who am I? Invisible Wasted days, dreaming of the times I know I can't get back.”. She stopped reading which earned her a cut down the side of her neck, she let out an ear shattering scream. Spencer turned away and looked at Hotch begging him for something. Hotch just shook his head, they don’t have a clue where he was keeping her.

Y/n continued reading but Spencer could no longer watch so he listened, “I never meant to upset anyone. I wanted to belong; I want to be everyone’s friend. I guess I became friends with the wrong person first. JJ was the first to become my friend, but when I told her- when I told her I was crushing on a certain young doctor, that’s when she decided to make my life a living hell. I’m invisible now. My thoughts don’t matter, I don’t matter. I no longer know why I try.”

Y/n stopped and started to beg not to read anymore. Spencer couldn’t move, he could only glare at the woman who claimed to be his best friend. She knew he had feeling for y/n and yet she chose to be cruel to her and keep them apart.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Garcia’s voice through the speakers of the tablet laying on the table telling them she has an address of the unsub’s parent’s lake house. Just like that the team stormed out of the police station in a blur of grim faces and vests.

----

With every word she read, y/n felt as if acid was being poured down her throat. She had paused once again and this time the unsub slammed the journal shut in anger and aggravation.

“That’s it I’m bored.”, and before she knew it there was a rope around her throat and her lugs were burning as she gasped for breath. Her vision began to blur, and darkness was surrounding her mind. Before she passed out, she heard a shout ring out and saw a flash of blonde hair.

When y/n woke up she winced in pain and at the fluorescent lights above her. She let out a groan as she tried to sit up. There was a hand on her shoulder as someone said, “Hey woah take it easy.”

Y/n realized it was JJ and it took everything in her not to flinch away, “What are you doing here?”. There was sadness in the petite blonde woman’s eyes. She glanced down at the floor than back up at y/n as she said, “I’m so sorry for everything that I put you through, what I influenced the others to put you through. I don’t have a good excuse or reason to why I did it, but hearing you saying all those things it broke something in me. Can you ever forgive me?” Tears began to stream down her face as she asked for forgiveness.

Y/n finally saw a glimpse of the woman she had met on her first day at the BAU. She gave her a real smile and nod. Both women let out little chuckles which made the buddle of limbs in the chair in the corner of the room stir. Y/n hadn’t realized Spencer was there asleep. JJ stood to leave saying, “I’ll give you guys some space to talk.”

As soon as Spencer realized y/n was awake he raced to her side mumbling and repeating himself, “I am so so sorry, y/n. I should never have left you.” Y/n grabbed his hands that were clinging to her, “Spencer it’s okay. I’m okay. Nothing that has happened is your fault.”

Spencer turned his head away from her, she brought her hand to his cheek turning him back towards her, “Hey it’s okay I promise.”

“It’s not just that, I didn’t realize how much you were struggling with the others. I want you to know they aren’t going to hurt you anymore, no one will ever hurt you again. I love you, y/n.” He kissed the palm of her hand that was resting on his cheek.

She smiled down at him and she finally felt peace as she said, “I know. I love you too.”

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #anon request #request finished

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kth1 · 4 years ago

Text

Cut Shot [MYG]

Cut Shot [Yoongi x Reader] ⟶ Credit: @kimtaehyunq ⟶ Genre: Smut | 21+| Boyfriend AU | One Shot ⟶ Warnings: Established relationship, explicit, oral (M/F), alcohol use, condom sex, massage oil, lovey-dovey-flirtations, hint of cute jealousy, etc ⟶ WC: 10k+ ⟶ Summary: He hates the water, he hates the heat, and he hates the Sun. Any form of physical activity is a big no-no, yet Min Yoongi will go out of his way to show that he loves you on your mini vacation. ⟶ Teaser: “Breathlessly nodding your head, you drone at the loss of his fingers. You beam a hazy smile, the post orgasm paradise you swim in radiates off you. “Let me help you,” your arms stretch out to him.” ⟶ Beta Reader: None other that @shadowsremedy (thank you for doing this in a timely manner 🧡 you’re awesome!) ⟶ Author’s Note: This fic is apart of @jamaisjoons Summer Bucket List Collab. This is my very first collab I have been apart of and I am very happy to have been associated with this project!

The blistering sun beams from above, heat rising scorching hot off the sands. Seagulls squawking in the distance, some scavenging around for disposed food – or snatching some from the unattained.

Yoongi trudges along the beach, black Raybands sit on the bridge of his adorable button nose, a large sunhat, sandals, an excessive tropical theme button-up shirt, and obnoxiously colored swim trunks to set his attire. With each step he takes, his feet kick up sand behind him, a half empty beer in hand in a pink koozie snuggled around the bottle as he sips away at his delicious beverage, merrily.

He sees you ahead, prancing around on the beach volleyball courts with your pony-tail rung high and skin glistening in the light. Right beside those said courts is his destination – the row of canopy tents that provided him his only relief. Shade!

Groups of people huddle around the area, humans of all ages, shapes, color, and size. He secretly hopes the smaller children applied much more sunscreen than normally, especially how they’ve been in and out of the ocean’s water at least five times now. But who’s counting?

Yoongi trails himself back to your shared designated tent, plopping himself down on the double wide reclining lawn chair. Here, he gets a front row seat at your court and some relaxing shade. Feet up, cooler full of snackable food and drinks besides him, and the best view in town – you.

You, the outgoing bubbly beauty, are playing a fun pick-up game with the rest of your party along with a handful of locals. Volleyball is your game much like music is Yoongi’s muse. Even with several differences in interest, the two of you get along quite well emotionally.

Many times Yoongi catches you thanking Hoseok for introducing you to him, in all honesty that is the only way he would notice you. Yoongi prefers to stay in isolation, nose shoved deep in a music sheet or much too invested in staying in bed all day. Once in a while he will strike up a game of basketball with his friend group, but only on a good day.

At first Yoong was incredibly confused towards you. Why would you want to meet him? Who even were you and when or how did you guys ever run into another? Upon Hoseok’s persistent pleading, insisting that he ‘has a good feeling about the two of you’, Yoongi eventually agreed to meet up with this friend of Hoseok’s.

It was a small date, nothing fancy, just a warm afternoon coffee meet up in the middle of September. Yoongi sat with phone in hand, iced americano in the other, at the bar seats set up at the windowpane in the front of the store of the local café. He was so indulged at tapping away on his phone, he didn’t even register the presence of another standing right next to him. You found it utterly adorable how Yoongi nearly spat out his drink as he stood up to greet you properly, profusely apologizing for his behavior.

Yoongi admitted, he remained skeptical throughout the date, though he was completely intrigued by you. Not only were you attractive in his eyes, cute with a bit of a feisty bite, he admired the way you spoke. You had a hidden passion behind your words – you spoke with confidence, sometimes even assertive… and he liked that.

But, what he enjoyed most is how you would get lost in your words, ranting long sentences when you hadn’t realized you had said too much. Something about the way you talked perked his ears like a silent harp playing in the background of the world. What Yoongi noticed after that date was how you kept his attention the entire time. How it seemed that the two of you were vastly different in many ways, but he found something in you that reeled him in instantly. Before bidding goodbye after the cheap coffee date, he reached for your hand as he asked if you would like to do this again sometime.

Nine months later, he finds himself sitting court side to your beach volleyball game. On vacation with a few of his closest friends at a beach house along the coast. A quick getaway from home, promises of having some game nights and visiting a few touristy areas. The group was partially here to support you at your annual volleyball competition, but other than that they came to party.

“Got it!” you shout, alerting Hoseok – your current teammate – that you were receiving the ball. Yoongi watches as you dive forward into the tan sands, getting an arm under the ball just in time to pop it up for Hoseok to assist.

On the other side of the net, acting as your current rivals were Jungkook and Hoseok’s long-term girlfriend, Haru. They readied themselves up for a freeball to come over, acting fast when Hoseok sent the ball to the deep back corner of the court.

It is worth it to Yoongi to see your beautiful smile light up as you were enjoying the hobby you love most, watch you ravish the sport as if it were your natural element. The sweat beads off of your brow, forearms, even soaked the fabric slightly under each of your breasts of your bikini top.

A small bickering emits from Jungkook by the looks of it, clearly arguing about something that he finds unfair but it soon washes over from Hoseok kicking up sand at another for the sake of giggles.

You walk your way over to the tent with Haru after the two rambunctious men chase another towards the ocean. Your boyfriend, who looked completely unbothered by the environment around him even though you knew he’d do anything to be back inside with the cool air conditioner, welcomes you with a warm smile and an iced cold water bottle from the cooler that he has been monitoring because it harbors all the beers.

“Hey babe,” you lean down, placing a quick peck to Yoongi’s plump lips. He tastes the salt of your sweat, and you taste the alcohol on his breath. “Day drinking much earlier than yesterday?”

Yoongi shrugs in his chair, tilting his head back to finish off his current beverage, “It’s 5pm somewhere... It’s a vacation after all.”

You guzzle down your fresh water, towel wrapping around your neck to help pat down the glistening sweat that coats you. “I’m not judging,” you smile with a wink, “just observing. I don’t want you to be bored.”

“I’m not bored when I watch you. Plus it’s fun to see Jungkook get riled up.”

Grabbing hold of one of the many randomly scattered candy bags, Jungkook’s unhealthy snack choices at it’s finest, you settle with a few gummy worms to toss in your mouth. “He does get worked up fast when it comes to games.” The two of you laugh while looking over at the ocean to see Jungkook having Hoseok flipped over his shoulder and walking deeper in the water for a proper body slam.

“What should we have for dinner tonight? Home cooked or take-out?” Haru inquires, scanning over her phone for local restaurants that may peek the group’s interest.

Yoongi checks the time on his watch, grimacing at the thought of food shopping so soon when it nearly took you all three hours. A wad of cash was eliminated from his bank account, in the store to pack for the trip in the first place. Thankfully you had offered to him that he wouldn’t have to pay a single dime the entire vacation to make up for covering everyone that day.

“Let’s grab a bite somewhere, I’ve been to a place called Poseidon’s, lots of seafood and such! My treat.” You gleam a smile towards Yoongi who’s eyes widened at the word seafood, knowing very well how your man enjoys himself some nice cooked lobster.

Another day, another play.

Ever since visiting this great spot, your party visited the beach nearly every day! You on the other hand had no choice in the matter because you were practicing for your tournament at the end of the week with your partner. Annually, your old high school best friend and you would sign up for this beach tournament, catch up with another and reminisce on the younger years. It was only for the first week that you’d be tied to this obligation and luckily your group booked the rental house for two weeks, giving you more time with your friends afterwards.

Maggie, someone who you grew up with ever since befriending another in middle school, was your go-to gal for years before college separated another. She continued to a division one school on an all paid scholarship for volleyball. Your interests were a bit more separate from hers and you find yourself attending a creative arts school, division three, but you still continued to play for your schools team. As much as volleyball will forever be embedded into your blood, you found a new focus when it came to creativity and joined a school where you’d learn how to become a creative director of some sorts.

Together, Maggie and you spent most days making up the lost time. Your group was more than understanding prior to even agreeing to this vacation, and you all promised to make it worthwhile. One day, Yoongi had joined Maggie, her boyfriend Taehyung, and you on a lunch date. You were happy Yoongi showed up, given the fact that he’s a bit introverted and shy, but regardless the lunch went smoothly and to both Maggie’s and yours surprise - the two of you had found out that Taehyung and Yoongi knew another because they, too, went to the same high school.

Now, as you practice your heart out on the beach courts, Hoseok and Yoongi are padding their feet across the hot sands, hauling the belongings with a small wagon, far away from sight.

“I know the basics - the idea of how to play.” Yoongi insists, “I just want to be able to play with her. Nothing fancy.”

“Sounds pretty fancy to me. C’mon she’s the first girl to get you up off your ass. You must like her enough to endure the summer heat, exercising, the sun…” Hoseok counts off his fingers one by one.

“Alright, alright. I get it.” Yoongi shoves Hoseok in the shoulder. “Just get on with it and show me what I need to do.”

“Ok, first, you smile wide like this!” Hoseok giggles and manages to duck just in time from Yoongi’s flying hand.

The two pivot themselves off in the distance, much further down the beach than the volleyball courts could see, and far away from your view. To your knowledge the entire group dispersed to enjoy whichever activities they wish to do while you practiced with your partner. What you didn’t know is that Yoongi had asked Hoseok, on one of his drunken moods, for some one-on-one training so that he can pick up on the hobby you love most - to surprise you by the end of vacation and play a game of pick-up with you.

“Pass this!” Abruptly, Hoseok chucks the beach volleyball at Yoongi - only for him to naturally catch it with his hands. “No! Shake that basketball reflex, arms together! And extend! Make a platform - now pass it.”

Biting back his sharp tongue, Yoongi tosses the ball back for Hoseok to repeat the action, this time now he is prepared to pass it effortlessly with his forearms.

“Great!” Hoseok squabbles, “but, now you need the proper position. Bend your knees.”

“I have to bend them?” Yoongi reacts with a distasteful gesture.

“Center of gravity needs to be low for movement. Don’t plant your feet! The sand makes it much harder to move in.” He scolds with a push of his hands to Yoongi’s back, knocking the older man off balance. “See, you’re off center!”

Yoongi scoffs, “Pushing me around isn’t helping!” He fixes his friend with a stern glare through his cat-like eyes.

“Yeah, but it makes you focus. You do better when someone’s on your ass. I hear it all the time back at the apartment, Y/n is a bit… assertive in the bedroom.” Hoseok winks, eyes squinting from corner to corner.

“It’s no better compared to the amount of broken furniture that came from your room,” Yoongi quickly retorts, “even the damn couch is still broken!”

Hoseok shrugs, “not my fault both Haru, and you enjoy being bossed around by their significant others.”

Yoongi retaliates, “It’s not being bossed, maybe in your case, but not mine. We go both ways.”

Hoseok tosses the ball once again, hoping to pepper aimlessly with Yoongi and get him used to moving around, “You sure about that? You’re a passive person, Yoongi. Even I can pick on you and get away with it.” Hoseok taunts with a light heart, returning the ball back and forth between the two of them.

“Not everything is about being physical.”

Hoseok smirks, a judging last look before lightly hitting the volleyball down into Yoongi’s platform with the snap of his wrist, “We have a lot to work on, especially when it comes to hand setting. Maybe tomorrow when Y/n isn’t around we can snag a court and play a game with Haru and Kook.”

“We’ve exhausted spades, go-fish, and even tried blackjack.” Jungkook slurs his words around the neck of his beer bottle. He curls up along the armchair where he aimlessly stares up at the ceiling fan, counting out how many times it spins until forgetting where he left off.

“Well, it’s not the weekend just yet, so the bars won’t be that fun right now.” You speak, a small smile spread across your face as you glance over the table at your boyfriend who is nose deep into another playing card manual.

Jungkook’s large eyes look at you with hope, “will you go bar hopping with us when we do?”

“We’ll see how tired I am after the tourney, but I would love to, Kook!”

“Bullshit!” Hoseok’s voice pierced through the sound of pop music playing from Haru’s phone, hand slapping the table timed at the sound of his voice with a finger pointed up on the other as if a lightbulb had gone off above his head. Everyone glances over at him from the sudden outburst, “we haven’t played bullshit yet!”

You blink, shock value very evident on your face at Hoseok’s accusation. “For a second I thought you were calling me out, saying I wasn’t going to go out.” Laughing, you gather up a handful of playing cards that scattered the tabletop and begin shuffling the deck.

“Well, that too. We’ve been here only a few days, but you’ve been a bit too busy for some things. And a bit cranky at night too.” Haru jabs Hoseok with her elbow to his side, making him wince the moment her pointy bone contacted him.

Raising a questioning eyebrow at him, you briefly peeped over at Yoongi who only raised his shoulders to indicate his indifferences under your stare.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter. “This tournament is important to me, and it’ll be over just after the weekend. We’ll still have a few extra days for activities.”

“Yeah, noona is going to dance with me. It’s already set.” Sweet, drunken Jungkook sighs, head tilt back on his chair. His lips pursed, eyes closed as he imagines the upcoming bar crawl.

Yoongi interjects, head snapping up to glare over Jungkook, “You’re not going to get all handsy with my girlfriend.” He frowns, tossing a handful of papers to the side. “There’s plenty of single locals here. You’ll have no problem picking one up at a bar.”

Jungkook peeks one eye open, a cocky grin drawn to his face, “Worried about me taking Y/n?”

You sit there rolling your eyes, Hoseok too preoccupied by Haru snuggling up against him, and Yoongi death staring Jungkook - probably lighting him on fire in his mind.

“As if.” Yoongi challenges, grabbing hold of his almost empty drink to finish off with one swig.

“Guess noona never told you about Valentine’s day weekend? It was magical.” Jungkook snickers, until the push of Yoongi’s chair alerts the younger one of his hyung standing up, ready to go straight for Jungkook. Quickly, the tyrant Jungkook, jumps himself off the chair, throwing a pillow back towards Yoongi as he scampers his way down the hall, away from Yoongi’s wrath and out of view.

Yoongi shakes his head, “this kid is always so scared of me.” He collects the litter of empty bottles from the coffee table, gathers up the useless waste of napkins and food wrappers around the room to dispose of them in the trash.

“I’m sure he has many reasons to fear you. I had only given him a kiss to his hand when he burnt it when taking the pizza out of the oven. Guess that’s enough leverage for him to toy with.” You laugh, joining him along with cleaning up the table where you sit.

“I know,” he chuckles. “The moment it happened he came running into the living room to tell me. He acts like there was more to that.” Yoongi side-eyes you skeptically, almost playfully, “better be all that there was.”

For some time now, Haru rests her head against Hoseok’s shoulder and you were sure she was probably too tired to do much else, especially at the way she nearly tilts forward when Hoseok moves his body. Haru braces herself quickly, eyes shot wide, and glances you with a sheepish smile.

“Go to bed.” you urge, “both of you. Aren’t you going to the festival in the morning with us? Get some rest.”

Both Haru and Hoseok sluggishly get up from their spots, placing a few empty glasses to the counter before departing the room to their quarters. It is a bit late after all, and once the alcohol sinks in a bit everyone starts feeling a bit tired. You’re sure by morning everyone will be rejuvenated, energized to go straight back to partying.

Without notice, Yoongi stood behind you, resting his hands on both of your shoulders. “Hey…” He whispers.

You make a noise of acknowledgement, raising one of your hands to lay on top of his to rub soft circles around his knuckles.

“You okay, babe? You seem… stressed.” His hands emphasized the word by lightly squeezing the tendons of your shoulders. He feels your body react instantly, the tightness of your back slowly being worked over with his firm thumbs. Rolling over a tight knot, the flick of his thumb forces you to jolt from the straining muscle.

You laugh at your reaction, “Yeah. I guess I am. I’ve been so busy with practicing for the tourney, I guess I haven’t noticed my body has been so –“

“Stiff?” He is quick to finish your sentence, dipping his head down to peck an innocent kiss to your head. You nod with a sigh.

“You’ve been so occupied,” his lips came back down, “you probably forgot that you’re on a vacation.” He smirks into your hair, running his fingers up your neck to your jaw. Yoongi tilts your head back, enough to kiss you upside down.

It's lazy at first, soft pouty lips peppering another in sync. Until Yoongi deepens the kiss, daring himself to push his tongue into your mouth. The wet muscle met with you in a savory passion.

He tastes just as you expect, a hidden spike of whiskey and the odd flavor of mint lingering on his breath.

“Come.” Yoongi breaks away. Walking in front of where you sit he takes your hand in his, leading the two of you back to your bedroom.

“Yoongi…” you drawl out the syllables of his name with a sigh of defeat. “Yoongi, I’m sore.”

Before making it completely down the hallway, he pulls you into him with an arm snaked around your waist and a hand lifting your chin. With a soft smile across his face he gazes down at you with mirth, “I know babe, I’m here to make it better.”

You smile, raising your eyebrows in question, “Oh, yeah?”

Yoongi almost matches your mannerism, but instead gives you a sly look with a poke to your nose. “Yes. Now come.” With a flip you’re facing forward. His arms securely around your middle, Yoongi proceeds to waddle the two of you the rest of the way down the hall and into your room with a fit of shared giggles.

He kicks the door close behind him, ushering you to the edge of your shared bed. Before he let you turn, nuzzling his head between the crook of your neck to leave fleeting kisses across your supple skin.

“Can I take this off?” he whispers, picking at the hem of your shirt.

You hum a tone of acknowledgement, smirking as Yoongi raises the loose material off your body. From here he can see your tan lines complemented by your sports bra, a slight shade darker than your beautiful natural skin tone.

He lightly tugs at one of the crossed straps, allowing it snap against your back. “This too.”

You look over your shoulder with a playful smile, “Of course.”

Cuffing the bottom of your bra you raise it up, allowing freedom to your soft set of mounds before Yoongi is fast in scoping both up with his hands before you could toss away the piece of clothing.

After disposing your athletic top his lips peppered along your shoulder blade.

“Now what?” You question while topping your hands over his.

“Lay down for me,” he directs with a loving slap to your right ass cheek, “face in the pillows.”

Cautiously, you kneel your way up the length of the bed, watching Yoongi who had walked over to a bag besides the dresser. He shuffles through its contents before pulling out a clear bottle with a rosé color top. Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion while pressing your cheek to the fluff of a pillow.

Reading into your quizzical look your boyfriend responds with a wink, “Amber and argan oil.” He teasingly shook the container while stepping closer to the bed.

“You brought massage oil?” You ask, stunned.

“Thought we’d try it out.” Yoongi shrugs, lifting the remainders of your hair off your back, clearing up his workspace.

You groan with satisfaction as Yoongi perches himself over your body, resting his ass on the back of your thighs. “Mmm, I fucking love you,” you giggle into the sheets.

The sound of the cap popping off the bottle arouses your ears and soon enough you feel the lukewarm drizzle down the base of your spine. Its lightweight aroma is subtle, but has a soothing sweet smell.

Instantly your body melted into Yoongi’s fingertips, they diligently work the slippery liquid across your skin.

“I love you, too.” The smile is heard through his voice. He enjoys the way your back arches towards his hands, the way it chases his touch. He isn’t featherlight, his deft fingers are trained well against the taught muscles of your back, aiming to help un-knot you a bit.

His thumbs are quick to find the tightness along your shoulder blades, taking note to pay special attention to the areas with rigid and stressed muscles.

You deeply sigh into the pillow; eyes close comfortably in relaxation by Yoongi’s skillful digits.

A soft chuckle resounds from his chest, “you’re already moaning for me, babe?”

You nod your head, unashamed.

He watches the scattered goosebumps decorating your back appear and deplete in small fractions. Takes in your sun-kissed skin, the smooth gleam of oil slicking the surface. He smirks at your soft noises and the pleas that ask him to go softer or harder.

Boldly, Yoongi makes an effort to venture lower, dipping his hands into the waistband of your shorts. He rests the elastic below the swell of your ass, grabbing a firm handful of cheek in both palms.

You grumble in submission, not particularly upset with his choice of massage pattern.

Involuntarily, your body acts on its own accord. Arching yourself to further lift your bottom into his kneading hands.

“Careful, Y/n.” Yoongi spiritedly warns. “You’re going to make me hard if you keep that up.”

His thumbs hooked into the muscle of your exposed butt, applying a strong prod into the tenderness. You squirm under him, teeth trapping your bottom lip as a small mewl escapes your nose.

“Easy, easy!” He lets up, moving his hands to your hips. Running circles into your skin with the pads of his fingers, he continues to coax you. “I’m just trying to loosen you up.”

“I know. It feels good. It feels really good, Yoongi.” Huffing with a laugh, “I can’t believe how sore I am.”

Yoongi leans up, clutching his hands around your shoulders and casually dipping himself closer to you. “I can,” he whispers. Yoongi plants a small kiss between your shoulder blades, his hips leaning closer to the round of your ass. There you feel it – a slow drag along the crack of your cheeks of his hardening dick stuffed insides his shorts. He hums when you purposely push up to feel him more.

“I see that someone else also needs to loosen up a bit.”

Yoongi leaves room for you to spin in your spot. Once face-to-face he dips his head closer to yours, nudging your nose against his. “Maybe. Will you help me?”

Your hands raise the material of his shirt up his thin torso, watching Yoongi expertly yank it off in one swift movement.

“Of course, I’ll help you.”

Your smile met his lips with a soft peck that soon turns into a more heated make-out. Your tongue grinds against his just how his hips did into your pelvis.

Those nimble hands of yours traveled the expanse of his sides, legs raised for him to slot between. The kiss races into fervor, your fingers brush against his undercut, tugging at his thick locks and his fingers are desperate to tease your nipples.

You missed this, you missed him.

“Hold on, let me grab a condom.” Yoongi detaches his lips from yours reluctantly, retrieving a foil pack from a nearby drawer.

Your tongue quickly swipes between your parted lips, watching with a craned neck at your boyfriend who exhausted no time clearing his shorts and slinking the rubber snug along his swollen length. With a few languid tugs at his cock he wiggles his eyebrows towards you.

Whining almost pathetically, you rub your thighs together as you take his image in. Your boyfriend is handsome after all, you yearned to meet him many months ago because of your massive attraction to the way he looked. Learning to love him, and how dedicated and invested he is with parts of his life which make him happy – you being one of those things.

You grow more attracted to his whole being, ethos and all. His intuition, spirit, and character as a whole is what draws you into him every time. He makes you feel normal and special at the same time. Yoongi has a way about him that always makes you think about how deep his mind actually can be, always surprising you when he opens up.

Yoongi saunters back over to you, hands at your knees and running up the plane of your thighs to pull your bottoms off with your assistance.

“Wanna see how wet you are,” he rasps with the spread of your knees. Yoongi positions himself between your limbs, groaning when your slick glistens in the light. Inserting two fingers with little resistance, he listens to the high pitch breath that catches in your throat. With a thumb at your clit and two fingers knuckle deep – he sets a speedy pace.

You clench and unclench in unison to his pads stroking against the rough spongy area embedded in your walls. Yoongi stares at the rise and fall of your chest, the way your mouth parts with each soft moan. You’re beautiful and he knows it, but he wants you to know it – and feel it.

The warm sensational build up lingers in the pit of your stomach, an all too familiar sign to tell you’re coming close to your peak. Yoongi smirks, noticing this behavior, if not by the way your legs wiggle more and the way your head tosses to the side, but also by the way your cunt tightens around his two slim digits.

“Yoongi –“

His name rolls off your tongue as lustful as ever, your hand latching around the wrist connected to the fingers that assault your in a blissful manner. With his unoccupied hand now holding your hips in place, he inclines his head closer to your core. He replaces his thumb with his mouth, matching the rhythm of his deft fingers.

You shutter underneath him, both hands carding his hair for purchase while waves of pleasure vibrated through your cunt and the expanse of your body. The cream gathering around his fingers made its way into his mouth, savoring your natural essence.

“Feel good?”

Breathlessly nodding your head, you drone at the loss of his fingers. You beam a hazy smile, the post orgasm paradise you swim in radiates off you. “Let me help you,” your arms stretch out to him.

Gladly, Yoongi careens closer, angling himself expertly so that the tip of his condom-covered cock dipped within your folds. Without dithering he pushes forward, sinking his cock in your wall-hugging slippery warmth. Inch by inch he disappears inside you, hitting the base of his pelvis against your clit. With arms snaked around your naked body he rests his head against your shoulder, turned enough to nip along your jawline.

His dick fills you up completely, deliciously. If it wasn’t for the slow shallow deep thrusts he gave your cunt, you’d be completely happy just holding him inside you for hours. In this position it was easy to grind himself into your clit, also easier to lock eyes with your flushed-out expressions.

The two of you exchange pleasurable moans that boosts another’s confidence. Audible noises that turned each other on even more, stroking your lustful pride that the both of you are fully enjoying the dirty act.

“Faster, please.” You match your hips up with his. Squelching noises fill the room with the snap of Yoongi’s thrusts. The wetter you get, the more tempting it is for Yoongi to ram straight into his your pretty cunt.

The jutting of his body scoots yours up with each stride, your legs locked around his waist and arms hooked around his back to anchor yourself.

Sweat coats around his hairline, threatening to form droplets that eventually would escape his body. The summer night’s dry air hugs the two of you, rising temperatures amplifying your bodies. The smell of sex loiters in the room, no doubt. And you silently thank that famous engineer for inventing the air conditioner, the one that sat in the window to your right - you’re positive the both of you will rush straight to it after this intimacy ended.

Between grunts, Yoongi whispers profanities. Swearing under his breath and murmuring dirty words into the shell of your ear. “Did you like my fingers in you?” “Like this cock deep inside you?” “You feel fuckin’ fantastic.” “I want to bury myself inside this pussy every night.” “I love you.”

Each sentence fills your mind, swirling your emotions and hormones. It is hot. You sang back your appeals, smiled wide as he sends your body into pleasure.

“Flip.” You request, hauling Yoongi enough to make him roll with you.

You settle atop him, dick still very much intact inside your body. Yoongi gazes at you with hooded eyes, his hair fanning around his head. The beat of his heart matched the same pace as your own, both panting for oxygen and running with the enjoyment your bodies are experiencing.

Bouncing on him with what little strength you still have, you fuck yourself on his swollen cock while Yoongi’s hands are gripping your waist like a vice. The bed squeaks under your weight, his head bobs along with your ministrations, Yoongi’s jagged breath warns you that you’re doing exactly what his body wants.

“Babe, I’m…“

“Me too.” You gasp once his thumb locks onto your clit again, drawing figure-eights quickly. Your walls squeeze around his tender length, body jerking with each ambitious dive of his cock into your cervix.

Yoongi’s head tosses back, brows furrowed in concentration while his bottom lip traps itself between his set of teeth. The erratic moment of your body convulsing on top of him made him lose it – draining himself in the condom with lewd moans and nails digging into the flesh of your hips.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he chants with declaration. Mere seconds after his orgasm, you find your second one. A cry breaking free from your mouth, you rock yourself on his shaft throughout your fervent ride, arousal seeping all around his pubic hairs.

Leaning down, you kiss another between labored breaths, “Thank you so much.”

He snorts a laugh, holding you against his chest as his softening dick slips out from your spent hole. “You feel a bit better?”

“A lot better.”

As much as you love to cuddle against your boyfriend, the two of you became much more socially aware of how agonizingly sticky your bodies have become. Unenthusiastically, you peel yourself off the top of Yoongi, rolling yourself to your back. You stare senselessly at the air conditioner that mocks you, frowning about how far of reach it is from the bedside.

“You think if we turn it on full blast, by the time we’re done with a shower it will be super cold in here?” Yoongi asks, sitting himself to the edge of the bed to carefully yank off the condom without spilling his seed. He looks over his shoulder to you, back and buttcrack exposed to your view and you couldn’t help but smirk fondly at him.

“God, I hope so. I feel so disgusting right now.”

Giving yourself enough recuperation time, the two of you finally lift yourselves off the bed, turn on the air conditioner and work your way to the bathroom. The brisk shower remains lukewarm, the sticky sweat washes away with soap sudz and water. Your boyfriend and you came back to a frigid bedroom, a perfect temperature to slink bodies together and canoodle another under the comfort of a blanket for the rest of the night.

Rejuvenation at its finest, indeed.

Now that it’s Friday - a day before your tournament - you join the group along with the festivities taking hold at the beach front. You share a way-too-sweet customized coffee, some delicious chocolate dipped churros and apple fritters with Yoongi. Battle Haru and Hoseok with the water-shooting contest and also were able to pick out a few hand-made beaded bracelets to gift to your entire party.

Jungkook and Yoongi went head to head at being the winner with the highest score on the dunk tank, earning one of the larger stuffed purple koalas. To your amusement, and Jungkook’s ego, he gifts you the prize after rubbing his victory in Yoongi’s face.

“He does it on purpose, Yoongi.” your arm linking around his, watching Hoseok share a singular strawberry malt with Haru between two straws. A corny-coupley thing that you find cute.

Yoongi tips his hat forward, rubbing his nose quickly to act as if he wasn’t bothered. “I let him win that.”

“Right,” you peck his shoulder with a kiss. “You reacting the way you do only compels him to continue.”

“Yeah, one day he’s going to get it,” he pouts, turning over to look at you with a concerned look. “Can’t have him thinking he has any chance.”

You bite back a smile, squeezing his arm tighter to your body. “Never. Kook isn’t my type.”

“And what is?”

“You,” you coo, grabbing hold of Yoongi for a kiss now to his lips. “Your voice, eyes, that gummy smile of yours.”

“Irrelevant.” Yoongi smirks, nudging you forward toward a booth with swinging basketball hoops.

“That deep sexy voice of yours, especially in the mornings when I wake up next to you.” You continued to list more things off despite Yoongi’s pleas for you to stop. “I even have a thing for…” you look down his front with a playful smile, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“Enough, enough!” he laughs, shaking his head at your ridiculousness.

Even though from the outside it never seems like Yoongi enjoys attention, compliments, or too many loads of love - you know he appreciates everything positive you say about him.

“But, what I like most,” Yoongi pays a staff member a few dollars for his shot at the game. You watch his first throw, sinking the ball straight into the moving basket that is purposely bent to rig the game. “The way you are very genuine about everything. You wear your heart on your sleeve. How you can’t hide your fond expressions when someone you care for does something endearing. When you shy away from affection but secretly crave it.”

Yoongi turns his head to look you in the eyes, even with puzzlement dressing his soft face you can see the wonder lurking in his sharp eyes. He shuffles his basketball between his hands anxiously, anticipating your next words.

“You have one of the most kindest of hearts I have ever had the privilege of getting to know. And I love you.”

With another flick of his wrist his ball goes to the air, bouncing against the backboard of the moving basket and lulls itself into the hoop. You see the bob of his Adam's apple, a slight furrow of his brow, but what you can’t realize is how your words truly affect him. You live with the comfort knowing that Yoongi has a hard way of expressing his emotions, the thoughts in his mind that race in and out can not form coherent sentences to explain what he is feeling.

Managing to score four out of the five throws, Yoongi alternatively wins a prize from the top shelf. His hand skims the small of your back, drawing you closer to his side as he requests you to pick one to your liking. You point at a stuffed flamingo, excitement runs through you when the item turns out much more softer to the touch than what it looks like - much like your boyfriend who now stares down at you with precaution.

“I love you, too.” he mutters, a small coy smile spreading across his lips.

You had practiced one last time with Maggie before the tournament day, during which Yoongi and Hoseok managed to snag in more volleyball learning without your notice. Even this time they had Haru and Jungkook to help with learning, and surprisingly Yoongi had caught on to the game fairly fast. Even shocking Hoseok with the way Yoongi became a very strong setter with lack of experience. Something about Yoongi with his hands made everything come a bit natural.

You try - try - your best to go to bed at a decent hour that night, considering that you had to wake up and check-in to your tournament by eight in the morning, set up your canopy and figure out which court you’d be playing on. It was hard to fall asleep at a reasonable hour no thanks to Hoseok’s obnoxiously loud laughter and sputtering words that broke through even the heaviest set of walls. Not even the hush of the air conditioner blowing cold air on high could overcome the harsh vocals of tipsy Hoseok.

Thankfully, your boyfriend who checks on you a few times within the early night solves the problem of the loud outbursts emitting from the living area of the house. Mainly after the death glare you had shot him with only out of annoyance and a curse under your breath saying “i’m going to fuckin’ murder Hobi if he doesn’t shut the hell up.”

It was quiet after that and the moment your body found solitude to drift itself into slumber it was comforted by the warmth of Yoongi’s arm slinking around your waist, drawing your body against his as his warm breath fans out of his nose into the back of your neck.

Your eyes remain shut until the blurting noise from your cell phone awoken you in the morning.

Now you find yourself in your first match, first set against an opposing team. The air runs from the ocean, a cool breeze before the hot summer sun decides to warm up the sand below your feet. Pool play usually is hit or miss, sometimes a random good team would dominate the other teams in the pool, and luckily you were that very team.

As the day runs, both you and Maggie go against the other four teams - coming out on top in each match, besides one where the teams split wins. You’re feeling great, Maggie and you become a massive threat towards nearby courts, people knowing who may be the future competition once pool play is over and the winning teams advanced to the next level.

During the middle of your games, your party finally joined Maggie’s boyfriend under the tent, in favor to help support you to the fullest. It makes you happy to see your favorite humans watch you do well, a boost of confidence always spiking when you can hear the loudest cheers from the sideline knowing damn well it was your good friends rooting you on.

Tip-toeing along the hot sand side-by-side with Maggie, you run over to give Yoongi a quick hug as you collapse yourself on his seat. “Slept in later than expected?” You tease, noting the time on your watch.

Yoongi ticks his head towards the youngest who had found purchase in a lounge chair, beach blanket covering his body, “He got a bit more wasted than he expected. Took Hobi and I three different styles of waking his ass up.”

“And what was the solution?” You laugh with the twist of your water bottle cap, graciously taking a well deserved swig of fresh water.

“Titty-twisters.”

You hear a subtle groan from under the blanket of which Jungkook lays, earning a chuckle from the crowd around him.

“I see,” you snuggle yourself closer into Yoongi’s embrace. “Guess Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to dance with me tonight after the tourney...”

“Wait - no! I’m fine!” He jumps up, blanket falling off abruptly to unveil the round, red, puffy, sleepless eyes of Jungkook. They wince due to the sunlight bouncing off the surroundings, hair array every way possible. “We’re dancing!”

“Get more rest and some tylenol in you before even thinking about going to the bar tonight.” You scold, tossing him a random snack from the side pocket of your duffle bag. “And start eating some non-greasy things.”

Both Maggie and you had finished your lengthy beach tournament; ending up losing in the finals against one of the recurring top teams known to play at this competition. It was close of course, only losing by a few point differentials but it didn’t matter to either one of you at that point in the day because second place has been the farthest the two of you ever had come in the years of playing in this tournament. After surpassing through the semifinals, the two of you were content with whichever outcome you had coming.

And hey, you guys still won some cash prizes for being in second seat!

After packing up your canopy, riding back to your temporary vacation home to wash up and take a small nap before heading out for the night, you had promised the entire group that you’d take care of tonight's bill and urged the drinkers to go buckwild.

Poseidon’s pub and nightclub is one of the top hotspots in this area, great live bands every weekend with two different decks and three separate bars, this establishment was your top priority to show off to your friends. By the time your party shows up to the club it’s blasting out loud pop music and flashing lights all around.

Jungkook, who had slept off his previous night’s hangover, has been completely recuperated and is ready for another night of binge drinking. Hoseok and Haru were first at the nearest bar, darting over to grab a handful of shots to start up the night with courtesy of handing over your card to the bartender for the tab. Yoongi holds you close throughout the waves of bodies dancing and lingering around the floor, your eyes set to your phone as you text Maggie that you had arrived and hope to see her - eventually.

It wasn’t long until everyone found their inspiration to party, exhaustion aside and now jitters coursing through your body like fireworks, perhaps it was thanks to the alcohol sinking into your system. Bioluminescence lights glisten off the top of your boyfriend's hair in which you run your fingers through, reflecting off just how it did to everyones; his dark sharp-cut eyes even darker with the lighting around him. He smells of fresh aftershave, a minty aroma tingling your nose as you drive your face into the crook of his neck.

You two enjoy a slow grind to the current song, swinging your hips in sync with another’s, hands never daring to leave each other’s body. Yoongi milked his beers after the first round of shots, tried claiming that liquor before beer you’re in the clear, until Jungkook slides the two of you each a larger drink; a bright red concoction of something massively fruity with a single cherry topping above the ice.

“It’s called the Red Devil! Haru had one, I had one, now it’s your turn! It’s so good!” Jungkook yells above the music between the two of you, slinking his body against Yoongi and you due to the small areas between other bodies. Jungkook practically shoves a glass into your lips, the other in front of Yoongi’s chest, forcing the two of you to separate enough to clutch each glass.

“It smells like shit.” Yoongi grimaces, mouth turning downwards into a harsh frown.

You on the other hand, have no choice but to taste the alcoholic drink because of the clink of the glass against your teeth. It was sweet at first, an indistinctive flavor touching your tongue, causing you to inspect the red liquid as you ponder. Until you see the wide smile from Jungkook, teeth beaming towards you with a mischievous grin. That’s when you notice the tang of flavor spikes, an after taste of cinnamon practically burning its way down your esophagus.

Coughing, you push the glass back to Jungkook, eyes slightly watering from the sudden flavor. “Oh god, you know I can’t handle spicy shit. That thing is vile!”

“It’s called Red Devil for a reason!” He laughs, taking the drink back and gulping down a portion of it. At this point Jungkook is going to revisit another nasty hangover in the morning, but you can’t blame him for enjoying his vacation to the fullest.

Yoongi pushes the glass back to Jungkook, “Give it to Hobi, I'm not drinking this.”

Infuriating enough, the youngest pushes the glass back, “you give it to him. It’s about time I get my dance with Y/n anyways. You’ve been hogging her all night.”

“She’s my girlfriend!”

It’s possible that the larger crowd and uncountable ounces of alcohol that Jungkook has taken, causes him to be much more bolder, brasher than usual. He ignores the glare Yoongi sends his way, especially when Jungkook steps between the two of you; back now facing Yoongi.

You raise your eyebrows at Yoongi, shrugging into your sentence, “Just one song. I’ll come right back to you. I did promise him I'd dance with him.”

Yoongi doesn’t stay mad too long, but now both of his hands occupy glasses of an unfavorable drink as he walks away to search for Hoseok. He knows Jungkook is just going to pester them the rest of the night if he refuses to allow it and a dance isn’t harmful at all. Even when he perches himself against the wall besides Hoseok and Haru, eyes watching you stare back at him with a smile.

“You going to pick up any of these people around us?” You question Jungkook who gyrates around you to the new upbeat flow of music. It’s more cluby now, the song switches between motions of fast pace and a slow break down during the chorus, Jungkook perfectly matching the synergy of the music. You glance over at Yoongi a handful of times, shaking your head at Jungkook’s perky dance moves and laughing with the amusement that dresses his face.

“Actually, I have one coming back with us already - if that’s cool.” Jungkook swings your body around, his front now facing your back. He places his chin on your shoulder as he scans the bodies dancing around. “Long black hair, mini skirt, nine o’clock.”

“Oh, i’m impressed, you’re a fast worker.” You laugh, spinning back around in place. You push Jungkook softly against his chest, “I expect you to go dance with them instead of me.”

Jungkook pouts, hair falling short in front of his eyes from bopping his head, “but I have a vendetta with Yoongi, gotta get in my daily annoyance. Plus you’re fun to dance with.”

“You really do enjoy messing with him.”

Jungkook nods excitedly, eyes scanning the perimeter until he spots the dark haired elder leaning against the wall staring straight back at him. He takes both of your hands in his, raises them up to make kissy noises against each of your knuckles as he laughs along with you. The second Yoongi pushes himself off the wall, Jungkook snaps his head back towards you, bids you farwell and rushes himself through the crowd towards his new acquaintance.

You match Yoongi’s trudges, meeting up with him halfway before he could go any further towards Jungkook. By the look on his face you can tell he was ready to show his dongsaeng who’s boss.

“Ya know, you’re kind of cute when you get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” Yoongi rebukes.

“Are you mad?”

Looking over Yoongi’s features, his posture remained relaxed but his eyes looked like they were burning holes into the back of Jungkook’s head. “Nah. I just think Jungkook wants to play. It’s funny, honestly. Just don’t tell him that. I’ll just let him believe that i’m mad.”

His hands lock themselves around your waist, drawing you in closer to his frame. “If anything,” Yoongi latches his lips to yours, “he’s the one who’s jealous. He can’t have you.”

Soft moans escape through Yoongi’s parted mouth, lips slightly trembling with pleasure building up within his body. You hollow your mouth as much as possible, dipping your head as far down as you could take him before your gag reflex threatens to betray you. Saliva accumulated around the base of his cock, your free hand wraps around the skin you couldn’t fit inside of your mouth just to help add sensations to his entire length.

It was early, you can see the subtle light leaking through the crack of the curtains of your room; light chirping of seagulls out in the distance along with the winds banging against the chimes outside on the deck. Yoongi’s hand assists with holding your hair up as your head towers his cock, bobbing it up and down beneath the covers.

The two of you did sleep quite well once you got home, even managing to ignore the random bumps and noises coming out of Jungkook’s neighboring room - he did end up taking that random person back home.

Though you couldn’t get as drunk as you’d like between the tiredness your body has already undergone, holding Haru’s hair back from puking her stomach out in the club’s bathroom and dealing with a much more drunken Yoongi. Once you rallied up your troops you closed your tab, called a cab and headed home for the night.

“S-suck harder.” Yoongi begs you in a whisper, cock twitching inside your mouth.

You slurp, hard, on your next drag up his length. Yoongi inhales sharply, fist tightening within your hair and hips bucking up to chase your mouth. He was coming close to unfolding himself into you, visions of dressing your mouth with his white hot cum rushing through his mind.

By introducing your free hand to his balls you earn a low guttural groan from Yoongi. Massaging them gently within your palm as you tease your tongue right under the head of his dick. He chokes on his words, hand abruptly forcing your head down to take his cock deeper as he empties himself deep in your throat.

After swallowing what you can, you wipe your lips off with the back of your hand; other hand lazily tugging Yoongi’s softening cock. You smile up at him.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, voice croaky.

He was half asleep when you began to suck your boyfriend off but now you were sure he had become wide awake.

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

“I can’t complain.” He smiles lazily, eyes closing as he embraces his post orgasm state.

Climbing up the side of his body, you card yourself into his arm as you snuggle closer with the blanket. Yoongi looks so at ease with the moment even with the disheveled bed head he’s rocking and puffy cheeks.

His hand slowly rubs against your back in a soothing pattern, fingers featherlight with each tender stroke.

“Do you want me to make you some coffee?” You offer, knowing well that Yoongi needed some substance other than alcohol to enter his system.

Yoongi shakes his head, deciding to curl himself up against you instead, “No, not right now. I just want to stay like this.”

You weren’t sure how long the two of you remained in each other's embrace, Yoongi quickly fell back asleep against you. The soft pitter-patters of feet outside your room notified you that somebody - probably Hoseok - was up and shuffling his way to the kitchen. Silently, you slip yourself out of Yoongi’s arms and throw on a pair of shorts so you weren’t walking around in just a shirt and underwear.

“Morning,” you chirp as you enter the kitchen, seeing Hoseok staring at the coffee machine as it drains itself into his awaiting mug. He grumbles his acknowledgment, clearly a bit cranky.

“Jungkook keep you up?”

“No.” Hoseok sighs, rubbing his hands over his sleep-crusted eyes, “Haru wouldn’t stop crying. She kept saying how sorry she was for throwing up and was worried that she would spend the entire day in bed with a hangover.”

You voice an ‘oh’ as you place your own mug to the coffee machine after Hoseok takes his in hand, wrapping around the island counter to sit on one of the stools.

“What time did you manage to sleep?”

“Six.”

The automatic clock hung on the kitchen wall and flashed a few minutes after eight. You clench your teeth together and you see Hoseok nod in affirmation. “Yeah.”

You pat Hoseok on the back after grabbing your fresh coffee before shagging his hair up, “Try to get a nap sometime today. I think Jungkook wanted to go to the beach again after hitting up a few shops, you’re more than welcome to come along.”

“I had already told Yoongi I'd help him with something but we’ll meet you guys at the beach!”

Before leaving to go back to your room and hand over the cup of coffee to Yoongi, you give Hoseok a confused look. He avoids your eyes, averting his own to the magazines scattered around the counter.

“You literally have twenty minutes before Y/n comes back here with Jungkook. He’s been trying to stall her as much as possible.” Hoseok warns Yoongi as he stomps his way through the sand and back to the court, hands rubbing the extra sun-screen across his skin.

“I shouldn’t have drank so much last night.” Yoongi frowns at the volleyball in his hands; he stands at one endline and waits for Hoseok to walk on the court on the other side.

Haru, who also is suffering from too much intoxication, holds her own as a setter between the two courts, ducking herself beneath the net everytime the ball gets sent over. As long as Yoongi and Hoseok maintained control of the ball they could pass it to her zone so she didn’t have to do as much work.

They play a game, not massively competitive, but enough to get warmed up before you come back for Yoongi’s surprise. He has worked incredibly hard in secrecy. Also, Hoseok proved himself as a decent volleyball coach in the making.

“Burn it off. I saw you chug a good amount of water already. Work through it and you’ll sober up.”

“I just don’t want to be a complete ass when I play with her.” The sun beams down hard from above; Yoongi’s hat, arms, and feet burn from the contact of the extra exposure. He made sure to apply his own sunscreen at least three separate times ever since he’s been outside, and as much as he loathes the heat and unbearable humidity, he still chooses to play the sport you love most.

Yoongi serves the ball enough to lollipop the ball over the net in Hoseok’s vicinity. They practice, all three of them, enough to rally the volleyball around. Yoongi still has his moments where he refuses to bend his knees for a pass, insisting that the ball was ‘too high’ for his liking. But what surprises Hoseok the most is Yoongi’s ability to jump fairly high in the sand, it must be the basketball skills that help him perform much better.

In the middle of a play the group hears a yell from afar. As they turn, they see Jungkook waving his hands in the air with a cheerful smile in the distance, bags in each hand swing aimlessly with his movements. “We’re here!” he screams across the beach, ignoring all the curious bystander’s stares.

You trail behind Jungkook, tugging the cooler on wheels behind you. Even as you walk towards the courts, your head tilts left and right like a puppy trying to understand what you think you had just seen. Did you see what you think your eyes saw? Is your boyfriend standing in the open sun, on a volleyball court, with a volleyball in his hands right now?

“What are you doing?” You question Yoongi as you step closer, plopping down the cooler under the pitched tent. You’re befuddled, looking between Haru, Hoseok and Yoongi as you try to process any ideas on what is actually going on.

“I wanted to surprise you.” Yoongi, who now seems incredibly embarrassed with his hand rubbing the back of his neck, spoke softly towards you.

You smirk with joy, touched that Yoongi has gone out of his way, out of his comfort, to surprise you with a sweet gesture. “Where did you? How? When did you learn?”

“Hobi’s been helping me a little, i’m not great, but i’m alright.”

Running over to hug your boyfriend, you giggle into his chest. “This is the cutest thing, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Say ‘Heads or Tails’.”

“What?” You turn to look at Jungkook who holds a coin in his hand, prepping it to flip in the air.

“You and Yoongi verses Hobi and I.” He smiles wide, tossing the coin up high into the air. “Call it!”

In unison both Yoongi and you declare tails, and as the coin is caught and flipped in Jungkook’s hand, it reveals that very end.

“We’ll take recieve.” You chime in, excited with the way Yoongi challenges Jungkook with playful banter.

Enthusiastically, the groups plant themselves on opposite sides. Whispering small strategies and goals. You tell Yoongi to aim for Hoseok, keep it away from Jungkook, mainly because Jungkook was the stronger hitter of the two. Haru sat in the shade, choosing to be the referee and scorekeeper.

The game started off light, a few points given to another over silly mistakes and miscommunications. Yoongi shys away from the ball most of the time, thinking you should take most balls because of your experience and that you were generally better at the game. If it wasn’t for you yanking his arm to make him snap out of whatever trance he was in, he’d probably end up letting a ball drop two feet in front of him.

He was nervous after all, he wants to play well.

It wasn’t until Hoseok started scuffing up some small trash-talk through the net, more like a taunt towards Yoongi, a tactic to see if Yoongi would step up his game.

And it was working.

Especially after Hoseok discusses openly how Yoongi only does well when he’s being bossed around. A small inside joke only the two of the men understood. But what had tilted Yoongi the most was once Jungkook pitched in, adding his own form of toxicity in the mix. Which they all knew would be one thing… using you as leverage to piss Yoongi off.

“Y/n and I had so much fun earlier today. We shared some snacks together, went in a few clothing stores where Y/n tried on a few nice pieces…”

You roll your eyes, sighing as you look over to Yoongi who stares straight into Jungkook. “Here we go again,” you mutter to yourself.

The next play felt more intense, you even noticed Yoongi stepping closer towards you to pick up the ball more than normal. He wants the ball, he wants to do something with it.

Yoongi continuously aimed his hits towards Hoseok, nothing too hard, but it was noticeable how he was favoring his spikes towards his roommate. That alone motivated Jungkook to tease Yoongi some more, “Can’t hit at me now? Are you scared or something?”

The fun laughs and giggles turned into grunts and pants, both you and Yoongi work hard on your side of the court, and you love every second of the heated game that blazed along the summer heat. Jungkook manages to swing very hard, directing his spike right in front of you, but you had just enough time to stick your arm out and pass the ball up before it lands.

Yoongi rushes over, a dive with his foot, kicking the ball up high enough for you to pass the ball deep into Jungkook’s corner. The youngest scurries himself quickly across the sand, almost colliding with Hoseok in the process. He saves the ball from landing, freeballing it back over to Yoongi’s area.

“Go outside!” You yell towards Yoongi after he passes the ball high enough for you to square yourself up by the net.

The pass, the set, the entire momentum of the play came out pristine and this was the golden opportunity for Yoongi to show off his skills. Jungkook sees the chance Yoongi is about to make and runs himself up to the net and readying himself to block Yoongi’s oncoming hit as Hoseok adjusts his positioning in the back court.

Both men jump, Yoongi winding his arm back to fling it forward, snapping his wrist on top of the ball the moment his hand came in contact with it. He angles his swing, cutting the direction of the ball to the open area just inside the ten-foot line that remained uncovered.

In the process of the hit, Jungkook leaps himself up, arms raised high in an attempt to block the spike. He does manage to block the direct path of the volleyball… but with his face instead.

The volleyball smacks hard into Jungkook’s face, cutting straight down into his side of the net as Jungkook stumbles back to save the ball from completely falling, but fails as he lands on the ground. His nose quickly turns red from impact, scrunching his face as his hands cover the sore appendage.

Both you and Hoseok sputter out words, asking Jungkook if he’s alright as he locks eyes with Yoongi. Yoongi stands stunned at the incident, eyes wide and mouth gaping as Jungkook smiles back at him after making sure his nose wasn’t bleeding.

“Guess I deserve that, huh?”

Yoongi shrugs, holding his hand out for Jungkook to help lift himself up, “Yeah, probably.” The two of them laugh it off, shaking the sand from their bodies.

Before ending the game and walking back to the shade of the tent, Yoongi pulls you in for a hug, kissing your temple. “Told you he was gonna get it.”

“Yoongi!” you scold with a laugh, shaking your head in disapproval yet he knows you find it enjoyable.

#houseofddaeng #ficswithluv #btsbookclub #bangtanhq #magicshopnet #networkbangtan #suganetwork #armysource #bangtanarmynet #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #suga #bts fanfic #one shot #kimtaehyunq #cut shot

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kaeyas-beloved · 4 years ago

Note

Hi!

Could I please ask for IkeRev HCs for Ray, Fenrir and Luka. What are they like as Older brothers to a younger sister who’s still a teenager, 16/17 ish?

Thank you!

Ray Blackwell, Fenrir Godspeed, Luka Clemence || Ikemen Revolution

Warning(s): Slight spoilers for Fenrir's & Luka’s route (nothing major tho), maybe some OOCness since I haven't picked up IkeRev in some time - but other than that none (do tell me if I’m wrong though ^^)

Note: Hello! I’m really sorry for taking such a long time to write this (honestly I wrote and re-wrote this a handful of times and I still don't even know if they're that great...)

Still, I hope they’re good enough and that you enjoy them - thank you for requesting!

She/Her pronouns are used to address the reader/younger sister

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

Older Brother to Younger, Teen Sister HCs

Ray Blackwell

Ray’s such a calm older brother in the sense that he’s both never intruding in on your personal space & gives you your freedom while still being able to know when he has to step up and protect you (even though he wants to protect you all the time)

Growing up the both of you were close (Fenrir was thrown in that mix too with how often the two boys hung out) But after Ray joined the army, steadily climbing the ranks and you stuck focusing on your studies you guys kind of drifted apart for sometime

You aren’t sure who started it but soon you found yourselves sending each other letters as a way to stay in touch (your letter more often than not having a picture of Belle tucked inside)

The little kitty loves you by the way - you’re his second favourite hooman (it’s cause you spoil him with cuddles), Ray’ll sometimes get jealous when the feline snuggles up to you because he thinks that his own cat loves you more than him

One day though you were walking home from school and passed an alleyway, faintly hearing someone baby talk to something. Curiosity got the better of you and that’s how you found your older brother, cross legged on the dirty street coddling one too many street cats

Though you do travel to that particular spot a lot now (usually as a way to procrastinate destress from school (or simply because you love cats like Ray does)) You’ll also keep them company when Ray can’t

Ray hates it when you go out late at night since anything could happen to you. It nags at the back of his mind a lot, that one day something might happen to his precious little sister and that he might not be there to save you. Old wounds and feelings resurface at the list of possibilities that come to mind.

He doesn’t want history to repeat itself, he doesn’t want to be unable to protect you from danger. So anytime that you visit headquarters and you stay late you either simply stay the night or have an escort take you home. You can choose which option you’d like but Ray’s not taking a ‘no’ as any form of an answer

Calls you dufus just because he can (but affectionately). Might also ruffle your hair and/or pat you on the shoulder

You call him an old man because he can’t stay up past 10PM (Ray’ll then make some kind of comment regarding Sirius and how he’s more of an old man, to which you both laugh until the man himself makes his presence behind you known)

Absolutely the kind of brother to move things you need off a shelf out of your reach before proceeding to walk away with a satisfied smile on his face

Also the kind of brother to tease you about any cute boys/girls/people that he catches you staring at or gushing about (but he’ll stop if you tell him seriously to stop)

Do you like books? Ray likes books. He has a lot of books. Take a book, please he has too many--

If you enjoy reading, Ray is constantly recommending you novels, letting you read them before casually asking you your opinion on certain characters or events when you’re returning it. But even if you're not an avid reader he may still hand you a book or two that he knows you'll enjoy

Like mentioned earlier, Ray is very busy with Army work and such but honestly, out of everyone in the Black Army, he’s the second best person to come to with homework (second only to Sirius). Especially with history. Like, you need the entire history of the Black Army or Cradle? He’s got you, he had to read up on it when he was on the road to becoming the King of Spades.

Really, you could just pop right into his office at anytime, ask your question and Ray will be able to answer without missing a beat before going back to whatever he was doing

You can always come to Ray for anything. Questions, complaints you name it he’ll listen to your woes/answer however he can.

You guys bond over your teacher(s) giving too much homework; Ray reminiscing when he was your age and in high school - he completely understands the struggle (it was excruciating. All the work prolonged the sweet embrace of a good night’s sleep T~T)

There’s someone who’s picking on you? Don’t worry he’ll deal with them >:)

He might not always know how he can help or comfort you since he’s not the best with words when it comes to certain things, but that won’t stop him from at least helping where he can

Will never let anything happen to you -- Ray protects you with his life and he'll use any power he has if it means that you can walk out unharmed, that’s how much he cares for you

Fenrir Godspeed

Fenrir doubles as both your older brother and your best friend

110% flaunts how you’re the coolest little sister a brother could have to anyone that will listen (most of the time it’s the Black Army tho)

Flips between calling you by name, ‘sis’ and any other ridiculous nickname he can come up with (but don’t worry - you have an equally stupid name for him)

Considers you his best buddy (aside from Ray that is)

Fenrir’s also the kind of brother to pat his sister’s head, ruffle her hair, give gentle noogies and shake her around by the shoulders/poke her playfully then go ‘wasn’t me’. Just like these wholesome little things that mean no harm or anything

I also like the idea of Fenrir giving his sister piggyback rides - it's just a nice thought, please don't take this away from me I beg of you T-T

Best bro Fenrir picks you up from school every day, no ifs, ands or buts! Usually, he’ll buy you your favourite sweet/snack and give it to you when he gets there.

Brings Shu Shu along as well and the three of you will talk about what happened at school or anything exciting that may have happened as he walks you either home or to the barracks

You’re both very chaotic + Ray joins in too most of the time. Quite a few pranks happen when you’re at Black HQ (RIP the Black Army when you come over and you three triple team them).

Harmless pranks I promise!

Fenrir may take one of your belongings (a brush, your favourite book or an accessory) and run around the place with the only way of you getting it back is to catch him

There was this one time you snuck tomatoes into his food to see if he’d notice.

Spoiler alert: he most certainly did

After that he kinda ignored you for the rest of the day as payback, pouting and pretending like you weren’t there, saying stuff like ‘huh? Did you hear that?” At the end of the day though he wasn't mad and was able to laugh it off (it doesn’t erase the betrayal he felt tho)

Once in a while you’ll also poke fun at his fear of ghosts, saying off hand that there’s one at the end of the hall, down in the cellar or behind him. You never go too far though - not after the time that a prank of yours left him really shaken. You’ve never seen him so scared in your life and don’t plan to again.

Oliver’s soul nearly left his body when he first met you and learned that you took after your troublesome brother

Fenrir loves helping you with any school work you have cause he likes being a dependable brother for you! …The only problem is that sometimes he doesn’t know how to. Like, he grasps the basic concepts of what you’re talking about, but if you ask him how to calculate acceleration or a parabola he draws a blank - you’ve lost him.

Pls cut him some slack tho he’s trying his best and just the thought alone is sweet 🥺

Compared to his best buddy Ray, the Ace of Spades has quite a bit of free time, which he spends by dropping by the family home where you still live for surprise visits.

Most greetings start with “There’s my favourite sister!” with you adding on “I’m your only sister Fenrir…”

You still welcome him with a smile, open arms and a hug :)

Swears up, down and on his life to keep you and army affairs separate, he’s NOT going to expose his little sister to the violence that comes with his occupation. He stands firm on this decision. This topic is one of the only times you’ll see him actually serious

You’re not stupid though, you know what goes on, and, because of this, every time you hear in passing that the gun crazed Ace of Spades was at it again - launching himself straight into battle - there’s this pang of anxiety that rattles you to your core. You’re sure that there always will be no matter how much times passes

As a sum up - very loving and goofy brother/best friend with the addition of lots of pranks and battle scares 😎✌️

Luka Clemence

You know how in game Luka starts off as kinda cold to MC/Alice? Yeah there's none of that with his little sister

Usually when hanging around her he's most of the time adorning a small smile cause he finds joy in being around her

The relationship you have is a VERY close one considering that, while growing up in the prestigious Clemence household, it was basically you and Luka against the world

Sometimes Luka fears that you’re really lonely back at home because he’s not around as much as he used to be ever since joining the Black Army. Therefore, every week he’s set aside at the bare minimum a whole day (or at least an afternoon/evening) to go visit you - or for you to visit him!

Y’all cooking buddies and I’ll die on this hill

Luka teaches you any and everything he knows about cooking all the way to baking. He’ll even write down recipes for your favourite dishes so you can make them when he’s not there.

Whenever you’re visiting the Black Army and it’s Luka’s turn to make dinner you pitch in and help. He’ll make some of the dishes while you make the others.

The Black Army adores your cooking since you have such a great teacher/brother

Luka lets you hold/pet/feed/take care of Stone. You’re the only exception he makes when it comes to his furry companion

Don’t swear around him he’ll die (that is, after getting told by the other Black Army officers why it's such a bad thing and a big deal)

Lets you hold his sword once but you ended up nearly toppling over because it was heavier than you first anticipated.

Would play the violin for you while you study if you asked him, especially if you bring up that it helps you concentrate better

Sibling fights are non-existent. The only time that there’s a chance of you butting heads is when Luka starts pushing himself too much with training or the conversion involves Jonah

Speaking of the Queen of Hearts--

It’s a constant tug of war between the two brothers on who gets to spend the day with you. Luka’s scowling, Jonah’s pouting and you’re wondering what you have to do to get your brothers to get along (or at least have it where you’re not in the middle of it all)

Very supportive of whatever you want to do with your life. Luka also tells you every once in a while that you can always come live in Black territory or even the barracks when you’re a little older if you want to

All the more should Jonah/your parents ever try to enforce something on you (like some kind of lesson/social norms for Red Territory that you don’t like etc.). Luka will 100% whisk you away into Black Territory to get away from it all, just say the word.

All in all each of the boys are wrapped around their little sister's finger and would do anything to keep her safe and happy :)

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

Thank you again for requesting!

[Masterlist]

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castiel-barnes · 3 years ago

Text

MYTHASOURS

Pairing: Ice Hockey! Din Djarin x Reader.

Summary: Yourself and Din adopt a little one, who Din teaches to skate. Ice Hockey AU.

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: Slight mentions of injuries. Soft Din. Swearing mentions.

A/N: This is based of @shanediomorrissey Hockey Din AU fanart, which is absolutely amazing and you should totally check out their work.

Tags: @phoenixhalliwell @scribbledghost

Your husband had been part of the Ice Hockey World since he was very young. That was one of the first things, his adopted father taught him. Now he was on a professional team, in the Intergalactic Hockey League (IHL). His team.

The Mythasours.

One of the best teams in the entire IHL. Home to the late Jango Fett, who's career ended far too soon in a deadly incident. After the incident, the Fett memorial was created and gifted to the Most Valuable Player.

You felt Din move in the double bed, his arms detaching from your waist where they had been for the majority of the night. It must've been 05:35am. Run time. His routine was pretty much the same every day. Run. Shower. Get breakfast ready for you both. Gym and then the training session at the rink.

You groaned as you felt his warmth leave you, and you wrapped the blanket up around around your head.

"Hey Cyar’ika, it's gonna be a good day at the rink today. Wanna come?" He asked as he got his running clothes on,

"What's happening at the rink?" You groaned peaking an eye open. You smiled slightly as you saw the V cut at the bottom of his abs.

"There's uh a charity thing going on today. We're teaching kids from the orphanage, how to skate and play. I just thought you'd like to come with, you're usually really good with kids." Din explained giving you a small kiss to your head,

"Yeah, I'll come with. I like watching you teach little ones." You replied smiling tiredly. You laid in bed for five more minutes, before getting out and showering then changing into warm clothes. No matter what time of year it is. The rink is always cold.

For a change today, you made breakfast and let Din take his time in the shower and getting ready. After breakfast, you packed a few snacks into your bag.

You always took a book with you when the boys where in the gym, although you did sneak glances at Din every now and then.

Before the kids from the orphanage came into the rink, The Mythasours and their opposing team The Twin Sun's skated onto the ice.

As you and the other sat down, you over heard a girl 'bragging' about being Din Djarins girl to her friends? Oh you could not have this.

"Excuse me, I think you should reconsider before you brag about something you're not." You stated standing up,

"And who might you might you be?" She asked in a sneering way.

"I just so happen to be his other half." You replied calmly,

"Oh yeah? Then prove it. Otherwise your just another bitch who wants attention from my hubby." She tried to continue to pretend.

"I'm Y/n Djarin. I'm married to Din Djarin, the Captain of the Mythasours and our anniversary date is March 7th. Now why don't you go before I have to call security." You stated slightly seething, and standing straight to gain height advantage.

At this she backed off and went to the other side of the rink, whilst her friends abandoned her. Din witnessed this whole confrontation, and you went over to him as he called you over.

"What was that about baby?" Din asked holding your hand gently,

"Just another fan who thinks they can get what they want. Don't worry about it din." You replied giving his cheek a sweet kiss.

"Hey look the kids have arrived." You continued smiling. Din turned and smiled as all the kids filed in. He noticed out of all the kids with black, brunette, ginger and blonde hair. There was a kid with white hair, who was slightly smaller than the rest and seemed to shy away from the rest.

As the kids oogled at the professional hockey players, each player got to know the kids individually. Din decided to speak to the little white haired kid that had caught his eye.

"Mr Djarin." Peli Motto stated smiling at him. "It's so nice to see you again." She continued,

"Please Peli, there isn't much for formalities on the ice. Please call me Din." Din replied smiling awkwardly.

"Very well Din. I see you spotted our youngest here today." Peli said as the little white haired kid looked around scared,

"Yeah, what's the little guys name?" Din asked curious.

"Grogu. He is a selective mute we think. He hasn't talked since we got him at the orphanage." Peli explained with a sad look,

"Just sad that a cute one like that can be left with no parents." Peli continued.

"Do you mind if I.. like if I go over to him?" Din asked,

"Of course I don't mind. It's what we came here for." She smiled. Din smiled and skated over to Grogu, he wasn't really standing with anyone else. As he got to Grogu, Din kneeled down and smiled.

"Hi Grogu, my name is Din. How are you today?" Din asked,

All he got from the considerably small kid was a shrug and a nervous glance. But it was better than nothing.

"Do you wanna learn how to skate?" Din asked, at that Grogus eyes lit up like seeing a festival for the first time. Grogu nodded and smiled, causing Din to smile. You watched as Din helped the child, putting the skates on and trying them properly.

Grogu was a little hesitant at first to go on the ice, but Din was there to help him.

"It's okay buddy. I'm gonna help keep you steady." Din said quietly to Grogu. Grogu looked up at him, his big green eyes finally losing some of the fear he had earlier. Din smiled and held Grogus hands, as Din skated backwards.

"You're doing so good buddy. Do you wanna be a professional one day?" Din praised,

Grogu nodded and continued to concentrate on keeping balanced. Din smiled brightly and looked at you for a brief moment, and you were smiling right back at him. After a while the kids had their break, and watched the professionals skate around for a bit.

"I see you got a new best friend baby." You stated giving Din a kiss,

"Yeah, his name is Grogu and he's a mute. But he is so kriffing adorable." Din replied smiling ear to ear.

"He's adorable, you two look so cute together." You said quietly, earning a blush from Din.

After hours, it was finally time to go back to the orphanage. For Din, letting Grogu go back felt wrong. Grogu reminded him of himself when he was about that age, before his adoptive father found him.

When the two of you got home. You could feel something slightly off with Din.

"What's wrong baby?" You asked wrapping your arms around him,

"I just feel kinda bad for leaving Grogu at the orphanage." Din said quietly burying his head into the crook of your neck.

"Well baby, we could always maybe adopt him. If you wanted. Cause seeing you and him earlier. I honestly couldn't of thought anything better." You suggested nervously,

Din whipped round with one of the biggest smiles on his face.

"Really?" He asked, trying to gauge if you were serious or not,

"Yeah. I mean, you'd make a great dad. Watching you with Grogu was amazing. Maybe we could speak to Peli." You replied. Din continued to smile and hugged you tightly.

The next day, you and Din went to the orphanage. You could tell he was nervous but that was a good thing. After some discussions with Peli, Din went by himself to Grogus room.

"Hey buddy." Din smiled kneeling down,

Grogu turned around and smiled brightly. His white hair tousled slightly.

"What do you think about coming home with me and Y/n?" Din asked,

Grogus face went into an expression of disbelief. He nodded and launched his tiny body into Dins. Din laughed as he hugged Grogu back, and helped pack the few belongings Grogu had. The two boys came out into the main area, Grogus small hand in Dins. And the two of them smiling brightly.

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

Time skip:

Grogu had been your adopted son for many months now. His skating ability increasing significantly, and starting to become one of the best on the kids Death Watch team.

9 times out of 10, Grogu watched Dins games.

This one game though was very different. The Twin Sun's had a new player. And even Cobb Vanth and Boba Fett had their queries about this player.

The game was heading towards a victory for the Mythasours. And this didn't settle right for the new comer. He saw his opportunity as Din skated forward with the puck, and the new comer shoved Din into the boards.

Din grunted falling to the floor hard, hitting his head against the ice. The game was called to a stop and IG-11 the medic, came onto the ice.

Boba went up to the new comer and got right in his face.

"What the fuck do you think you were doing newbie?" Boba growled,

"I was stopping him. Just cause he is the mighty 'Din djarin' doesn't mean he has my respect." The new comer explained. Boba was about to punch him, until Cobb stopped him.

"It's not worth it Boba." Cobb whispered.

Din was helped out, and Grogu was extremely upset trying to follow.

"I know buddy, I know. We'll go see your buir in a moment I promise. He's gonna be fine buddy." You croaked out trying not be scared for Grogu.

The two of you followed the ambulance to the hospital. And waited in the waiting room for almost an hour. You sat with Grogu and tried to distract him for a while.

Finally the doctor came out, and you stood up with Grogu in your arms.

"Is he alright?" You asked quickly,

"He only has a mild concussion and some slight bruising on his side. We'll have to keep him observation for the next few hours, you're able to go see him if you would like." The doctor spoke, showing the way to Din's room.

Din opened his eyes slightly, and smiled as he saw the two of you.

"Hey baby, how you feeling?" You asked quietly,

"My head hurts. A lot." Din replied. He smiled at Grogu and watched Grogus hands as his signed.

'Are you okay papa?' Grogu signed,

"I will be buddy I promise. Its just a part of hockey." Din replied ruffling Grogus white hair.

After a few hours Din was able to go home, and get sleep. For the next few weeks, Din rested making sure to listen to the doctors.

He eventually went back to the rink, slowly getting back into the swing of things. Din attended a lot of Grogus training sessions, sitting on the sidelines giving him tips. He did stay for the Mythasours practice and watched.

When Din finally returned playing, everyone including Boba and Cobb.

"Din! My Vod how are you feeling?" Boba exclaimed smiling and hugging Din,

"A lot better than I was, that's for damn sure. What happened to the kid who gave me a concussion?" Din asked.

"Got kicked out. Turns out he's done this in a bunch of other teams just never been reported properly." Boba returned.

Din's first game back was amazing. Everyone, even the Twin Sun's fans showed their excitement of the Mythasours captain making his return.

The game went to the Mythasours.

At the end of the game, Din done a speech giving his thanks for the support.

#pedro pascal #writing #hockey au #star wars #din djarin x reader

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pyroclaststan · 3 years ago

Text

CW: This is the softest shit I’ve ever written

You’d asked Kingsley to come over and do your hair as a joke [mostly]. You knew they were hesitant to be in your space on the best of days, and almost always avoidant of any kind of touch or personal interactions on any given day. It was made very clear very early on in your friendship how high Chrysanta’s walls are but it’s always made you try harder, tease more, push often—never too much.

Not out of disrespect for their boundaries, but because it was also made very clear early on in your friendship that they had no friends, and if there was one thing you could say Kingsley needed in this world it’s friends. Maybe also someone to pry the stick up their ass loose, too, but even your hero self can’t work miracles.

And here they are: ringing your doorbell, hood up over that ratty cap you’re dying to throw away, feet shuffling, and a bag over their shoulder. Maybe the look on your face as you opened the door shouldn’t have been such a cross between excited and shocked, because they flinch immediately upon seeing you stand in the doorway, arms held wide.

“Do you want me to w-wait until you get dressed to come back?” they ask, looking pointedly away towards the bottom of the stairs for someone tailing them.

A mental note to figure out what’s up with the ‘who’ of that situation one day, but for now you take a look down at yourself. Gym shorts and a tank top: who knew they were such a prude? You that’s who, but only when they are outside of their uniform and around you it seems. That’s why you chose to ditch the sweatshirt you’d had on before answering the door… and it’s also the height of summer in this godforsaken city.

“What do you mean?” you cross your arms and tilt your head, playing innocent, making sure your braid falls over your shoulder. “I’m in my own home, firstly, and secondly: I am clothed. Not all of us need to be covered head-to-toe with eighty layers in this heat.”

They shuffle again, and you know the hand that isn’t holding the strap of their duffle bag is in their jacket’s pocket doing their tell: the clenching and unclenching of long, strong hands; vascular and calloused, often bloodied or bruised at the knuckles but still beautiful in their rough way. You squeeze your eyes to cut that random thought right there, disguising it as a reaction to the intense orange-toned daylight bleeding into your cool apartment.

“Chrysantamum, get the hell inside: looking at you is making me overheat,” you chide playfully, pulling them in by the strap of their bag and catching them off-guard, so much so they half-stumble through your front door, ducking lower than even they need to.

Jodidamente gigante…

Pink cheeks are quickly hidden as they reach up to pull their hat down lower, head bent in attempted irritation. Closing the door and setting the lock as they walk past, you watch as their back hunches so much that it makes you worry about their spinal health, and not for the first time.

“Jules, you can, uh, you can just say ‘come in’ like a normal person,” they huff, removing their bag from their shoulder but keeping it in hand.

“I could, but when have you ever accepted an invitation of mine?” The gaze you direct at them is cutting: visual representation of all the times you’ve extended your courtesy and company only for them to shut you down, cold and completely.

And speaking of cold, is that a bead of sweat on King’s face? You figured they were immune to the heat: they’ve never been about anything but dark colours and multiple layers.

Maldito lagarto gigante. You know, you didn’t curse nearly as much before you two became friends. Not as creatively either.

“That’s… fair,” their shoulders sag, defeated by their own admission and unaware of their agreement to your internal insult. You win two in one. “I should’ve expected you to get h-handsy anyway. You’re tactile.”

“I’m tactile? How many times are you gonna squeeze that hand of yours?”

They freeze at your smug face, hand immediately retreating from their pocket and down to their side like they’ve been caught red-handed. Anathema used to keep a tally of how often they did that but the whiteboard turned black.

A small sigh escapes your lips as you step past them to head towards the couch: neutral territory that keeps you from crowding King until they relax. You know the drill by now. “Oh! And you know the rules: no hats on indoors.”

“W-what?” it’s almost a whine. “I always wear a hat when I’m with you guys.”

“That’s at HQ—this is a home, Sidestep, it’s basic etiquette. Were you raised in a barn?”

“On a farm,” they murmur, giving in to your request. They’re a little bit of a shit from time to time, but they’ve always been respectful of basic manners in private—raised right by someone at some point, you suppose. You’ve always noticed how well they set a table, pull out a chair, take a coat. Classic manners instilled young, that much you can tell.

There’s a coat hook that you put up on the wall recently—for them—and after setting their bag by their feet, their top two jackets adorn it. A bomber and an all-weather? They had to be boiling walking out there. That ratty cap is pulled off and placed over them, too, so you watch as they take down their thick curly-coily hair, swiftly collecting strays back into the bun to no avail. Fidgeting begins once they’re done and realise there’s nothing to thread their hair through, unused to being uncovered.

“How do you not melt out there?” you ask in disbelief, fanning yourself dramatically. “Can you seriously not just put on a single t-shirt, like a regular person?”

“I like the weight.” It’s a short tone that tells you that string of questioning is closed, and instead their focus goes to taking off their shoes and setting them down neatly below their jackets, heels against the wall as a sign they’re staying.

Deliberate motions, unsure emotions.

“Sure, okay.” Leaning far to your left you pat the seat of the couch three times, signalling them to sit their ass down which they do slowly, taking their bag back into their hands.

It settles into their lap as you sit back and watch them: eyes running all over—casing for exits—and hands fidgeting nervously. Inviting them over always feels like entering a kennel pen with the way you have to sit back and wait for them to settle into your space with you, but you’re used to it. It’s kind of endearing, really… in some kind of vigilant way you can’t quite explain. Or at least, it’s become endearing. Traitorous eyes once again find themselves settled on Kingsley’s hands.

“What do you want?”

You startle, face flushing at the thought that they caught you staring and got annoyed, but when you look up they’re still staring straight ahead. This is an opportunity to take in their profile, always having been drawn to their sharp jaw and the pronounced line of their cheekbone since they’ve been unmasked—tracking the cloud of freckles on their skin and some faint scars here and there. Counting the numerous ball hoop earrings that cover the entire edge of their ear, you’re reminded of your old therapy tricks, the calm helping as you quickly gather your composure. Keeps you cool and sane while they become a ball of unrest.

Five things you can see, four you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell, one you can taste—or whatever combination works best for your surroundings. It’s been a long time since you’ve needed that trick.

Realisation hits that they’re still expecting a response.

“What are my options?” you tease in a soft flirty tone you can’t fight; teasing them is just so second nature nowadays.

King sits a little straighter as they pick up your double meaning, then cover their face by leaning forward into their propped-up palm as if bored—fooling no one in the room. You know they’re anything but bored by how their fingers tap, and soon the leg starts bouncing just as you knew it would.

“That’s up to you th-this time. Just don’t pick anything that’ll have your PR team suing me or breathing down my neck. Remember when, uh, when you dyed it blue?”

“It was temporary!”

“And they still freaked.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you concede with a pout. Not as much freedom as you’d like has came of your stint in the Rangers so far. Sure, you can walk, you can fight, you can muck around to your heart’s content, but you’re still on a leash. One that you’ll be expected to pay off. “I don’t know—I didn’t really plan on you actually showing up.”

A quick frown in your direction. “Gracias por el voto de confianza, polla.”

Okay, geez, so you both rubbed off on each other.

“No offence!” you put your hands up as a gesture of peace. “You just don’t like coming around.”

“I’m not used to coming around,” Kingsley corrects, looking at you, “I like coming around...”

As they trail off your heart leaps at that; your stomach flips, you’re about to respond when—

“…you’ve got A/C” they finish, turning their head, smiling that dammed crooked smile at their own joke.

There’s a quiet huff from you that mimics theirs as your ego deflates a little. That was a jab in true Sidestep fashion, sure, but you can’t help but feel a little… disappointed.

Sidestep—Kingsley, King, Chrysantamum—is looking at you expectantly now. “Well?”

“Dealer’s choice,” you get up, looking anywhere else as you pace. Can’t stand sitting this still this long much less with their gaze on you.

The sound of them lifting off the couch quickly stops you in your tracks.

“What? Y-you’re just gonna let someone do whatever they want to your hair?”

“Not ‘someone,’ you—I’m letting you do whatever you want to it. It’s just hair.”

“It’s not just hair!” they exclaim walking fiercely up the edge of your personal space, surprising both of you. They take a long step back, a pause of quiet as they collect themself and stand straight, making them taller. “Hair is… it’s personal. It’s…” a look of discomfort as they trial off, “intimate.”

You didn’t expect this: for them to get some up-in-arms about hair of all things. Looking at theirs, for the first time you start to think about all the work that goes into those long curls. The care, the maintenance, the time. Cultural and personal significance as well, you assume.

You smile with a softness that melts through you, “That’s why I asked you to do it.”

The look that passes over their face is the closest thing to affection you’ve ever seen. There is sorrow in their brow, but the tiny smile on their lips and the way they hold eye contact with you says… everything. Then it’s gone as quick as it came, eyes averted, hands pulling at the sleeves of their hoodie, their feet shuffling. Those tiny little things that they consist of, live by, exist with. It is always about the little things with them: it occurs to you that this may be a big thing. Maybe they need more time to—

“Alright,” a cracking voice cuts you off before you can ask the question that was still building, “grab a dining room chair, a tall one, and meet me in the kitchen.”

Kingsley’s already moving, mechanically yet fluid in the way they walk over, picking their bag, and navigate around and past you as you’re walking in their path. Nervous muscle and hyper focus—so like them it makes you smile. You diverge by the dining room, heading over to pick up a chair as directed, confused as to why you’re taking it to the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t we be in the living room or bathroom?”

“Living room has nothing we need, bathroom’s too small—I uh, take up most of the space as is.”

You avoid imagining the two of you crammed into that private space.

Looking at them again as you approach, you watch the way they deftly unpack: eyes locked on the contents, right hand grabbing items and tossing them to the left without a single shift in their line of sight. Thinking. These little pieces of themself that Kingsley leaves around your apartment always make it hard to resist inviting them.

It’s too much, too fast for them, sure. But there is something about Chrysanta’s presence in your home compared to anywhere else. It is quiet—it always is despite their size—but it is rooted, in a way they never are to any thing or place or moment. Their steps are slower, their movements more eased, the calm they feel reflected in how little they stutter or panic because they can’t feel you in their confusing telepathic way.

“Where should I set the chair?” you ask softly.

“At the sink.” Not bothering to look at you to respond.

As soon as you set it down, facing the sink, Kingsley’s hand reaches out and turns it around.

“One more, please,” absently said as they set up all of whatever it is they’ve brought, set to boiling water, and wash their hands at the sink.

You muse on how they’ve always reminded you of a surgeon, the way they wash up or are exacting in their ministrations. Absentmindedly, you ponder if they’d have made a good med student, leading you to wonder if they’d ever had plans of what they wanted to grow up to be when they were young—outside of a vigilante. You nearly bump into them with the chair during your daydream before their hand quickly snakes out to catch you by the shoulder.

“This one is for me later, we can leave it over here.”

As swift as they stopped you, the chair is out of your hands, and you realise you’ve never seen Kingsley so… in charge. The way they move through this small space like it’s their own world in yours.

In charge of Charge, you chuckle to yourself at such a dumb joke. Sounds like a tag line to one of those adult movies they make about the two of you. They spare a glance your way.

“Alright, I’m just gonna g-grab some towels. Go ahead and sit.”

“Yes, sir, Marshal, sir,” you call out cheekily as they walk out, following orders with a small laugh.

There is a small well of feelings that has been bubbling in your stomach and you’re not quite sure what to call them. ‘Sir’ sent a small ping of questioning to the back of your mind. The two of you never quite discussed what kind of words Kingsley likes being directed at them. Masculine or feminine, in the way words are gendered. They’ve told you they’re not a woman, but they’ve also expressed that they’re not a man either, or maybe they’re both—it’s new to you, in the sense that you’re not sure where you stand without pre-conceived societal notions as a guideline between the two of you.

Would they like to be called handsome? Or beautiful? Is there something else that fits? Would attractive be a safe word to use? Does anyone compliment them? Should you do it more?

You shake your head, focusing on undoing your braid instead, settling your face back to a small smile as soon as they walk back in. They move the saucepan of hot water off the burner, setting a jar of oil in the centre, then busy themself with a small box they pulled from their bag.

“Shall we?” they ask, looking at you as they put on a pair of tight black nitrile gloves.

“Is this an examination?” you joke nervously, pointing at their hands.

There’s a cringe when you think of your last mod check-up, invasive and impersonal. Your brain can’t help but carry on, thinking of hospitals and your various stays in them. You don’t like them as is, but Kingsley’s proximity to you has made you even more wary of them; the panic they show when you bring up medical attention sometimes is sobering.

“No? I mean… uh, I’m not calling you dirty, but I don’t know how clean your hair is, and you d-don’t know how clean my hands are.”

The look on your face must have been either offence or murder because they take a step back, hands up.

“It’s a health precaution! I’m just being careful,” they croak.

“I wash my hair!” Your tone is indignant.

“I know! I’m just being safe!”

“I feel like I’m going in for a pap sm—“

“Alright alright!” they yell to cut you off, face red up to the ears at your unfinished sentence. “I’ll take them off as soon as I’m done washing your hair.”

“Thank you,” you give their hands one last nervous glance, only eased by the thought of how attractive the gloves makes them look. You sincerely hope the sudden mortification at that is not showing on your face, but they’re already turning their back to you.

“Wait, Kings,” you interrupt, “take off your hoodie.”

“W-what?” You do not miss the look of absolute panic on their face.

“It’s gonna get soaked handling all my hair,” you clarify.

“And my sh-shirt is gonna get wet if it isn’t on.”

“But your shirt will dry faster.”

“You have a dryer—my sweater can be dried.”

“Well… about that...” your exasperated laugh and a wiggle of fingers from your raised hand tells them all they need to know.

“Julia. How the hell did you break your dryer again? I just fixed it!”

“It wasn’t on purpose this time—there was a static build up!” Your hands slap you in the mouth as soon as the sentence finishes. Your eyes widen as Kingsley’s narrow.

“This time?” their voice is low, their eyes sharp.

“I uh, may have broken it to get you over here for dinner that time…” The half-hearted chuckle you let out is fake even to you.

“Julia.” A stern glare.

“…Kingsley?” Utter avoidance of eye-contact.

“That’s incredibly dangerous, first off. And I’m not a maintenance worker. You don’t pay me for that.”

“I can absorb any electricity that comes my way and I pay you in food,” a quick retort, regaining composure. “And I got you to stop avoiding the simple notion of a meal together as if I were threatening you with a gun.”

There is a specific face they make at that, and for the umpteenth time in your life you wish you knew what it was they were thinking.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever—just sit down and shut up.”

From anyone else that would sound rude, but that’s simply Sidestep’s tone. The impact is also lessened by the movement of them removing their hoodie, leaving behind a loose long-sleeve that briefly reveals a long-sleeved compression shirt tucked in beneath. The upper layer had lifted while they were pulling the hoodie over their leaving the outline of Kingsley’s back muscles and bra lines on show before they fixed it.

Just a friendly look at your friend’s back. Friendly-ly.

Mouth not at all dry.

“So what’s on the menu? What are we doing?” you cough as they position themself in front of you, looming even more than usual now that you’re sitting.

They reach behind your head and your heart skips; they gather all of your hair carefully and lift it with the gentlest touch, moving a hand to guide you to sit all the back by the shoulder.

“Luckily your sink is low enough that I can lean you back for this to work,” they hum, setting your hair into the sink and tilting your head back, “I’m uh, only used to doing my hair texture… I’ve never done someone else’s hair.” They swallow hard, suddenly nervous. “First: shampoo, maybe a deep cleanse. An oil or deep treatment mask, heat treatment to that for thirty minutes. Rinse it out, then moisturise, comb, and braid.”

“You’re gonna give me braids?” you smile up at them, the orange light of outside slipping through your blinds against their skin and yours. They look bronzed in the lighting. “Like yours?”

“Not quite,” they laugh. “Something more l-like French braids or not-quite-cornrows. I don’t think your hair could support the protective styles I do. I don’t… think so at least? My curls are much tighter than yours.”

“You don’t know?” Teasing.

“I’m not a, not a fucking aesthetician or cosmetologist or beautician, Ghoulia. I’m a vigilante—I don’t get paid the big bucks to make people pretty, I’m usually the one fucking ‘em up. For free!” They sigh heavily, pulling at their gloves to make a loud slap noise as they let go to shut you up.

You giggle quietly, only for it to grow louder and your shoulders to start to shake as Kingsley pulls you forward to set a towel around your shoulders, then let’s you fall back into place before they lean over to turn on the water and pull out the sink hose, adjusting your hair once more.

“What are you laughing about?” they ask, looking down at you, smiling softly and holding you by the back of the head with one hand.

“Did you just… did you just call me fucking Ghoulia?” you burst out laughing uncontrollably.

“You literally call me Chrysantamum—that’s not a worse pun?” they ask, spraying the top of your head with water playfully before setting to work rinsing the rest thoroughly.

“I mean… yeah! That’s so much worse!”

The laughter carries on for two more minutes, much to Kingsley’s displeasure—and your abs’.

“Sidestep Spa… you could make good money with this.”

“No,” they cut you off. “Hair is… like I said, I’ve never done someone else’s. Hair is personal. It’s trust.”

You stare silently at them, considering their words. Is this you showing trust? Or them? For you, this had been a joke but… not anymore. You understand now, as their fingers carefully and dextrously work through your hair: you feel the mutual connection, respect and trust. It feels like a ritual; some kind of magic never really touched on by most.

A thoughtful look at Kingsley. You think of the things they share with you, and that seem to mean something to them. Food, space, and hair. Those must be their love languages: how swiftly they make sure you’ve eaten and how careful they are right now. How often they sit with you on rooftops for a sunset and a beer. The light pulls and parts; the way their fingers massaging into your scalp threatens to make you melt into your chair, and the rinsing calms you.

You think, suddenly, to your mother. The days of your youth spent sitting between her knees as she pulled your curls and waves into a neat braid before you ran off to cause a ruckus. Of her styling your hair the ways her mother styled hers. Hair that connected to your culture, your roots, your family. It dawns on you that this is what that must be for King, too—especially having grown up viewed as a woman.

Time flies by while you’re lost to the memories and motions.

Even now, as you sit in the chair with a warm towel wrapped around your head and with the hot oil they prepared working it’s magic, they don’t sit still. Instead their hands are busy with small bowls, a brush, and a fork, mixing things together into a larger bowl.

“Making your hair mask,” they comment absently, feeling your gaze on them. “Fresh ingredients are better. It’ll help repair what your stylist’s constant flat-ironing damaged.”

Pelo malo, you remember unkind neighbours saying to you. You remember your mother yelling at them in turn, before pulling you close on your walk home, petting your hair.

You think of your mother’s hands as they mix with a fork. It takes you back to a different kitchen, to the sounds and smells of pancakes sizzling on the cast iron griddle. The ingredients they mix reminding you more of a meal than a hair product: honey, avocado, yogurt, brown sugar, banana, apple cider vinegar. You don’t even bother to ask how they came across some of those ingredients here in the west, you know they have more tricks than they let on.

Chrysanta’s movement back into place directly in front of you drags you back into the present fully, tracing details of their face in the rarest moment of absolute openness. No shields, no walls, no topics. Just their hands as they carefully unwrap the towel, taking great care not to pull your hair or have anything drip onto you instead of the towel.

As they rinse your hair, once again focused on threading fingers gracefully and massaging your scalp and hair, your eyes close.

You wonder what Kingsley’s life is like, outside of you and the Rangers. What their childhood was like. What their youth was like. What their teen years were like. You’re not even sure how old they are now. You wonder about questions you know you can’t have answers to, because you know they won’t tell you. Questions you think might hurt them if you asked.

More so, you wonder what their family was like. Your eyes open and you wonder if Chrysantamum ever sat in a chair like this, with their mother lovingly washing her daughter’s hair at the kitchen sink like a right of passage. If kind hands cared enough to catch every curl, with kind eyes at her child like they were the sun—the light of her life. If she’d smooth down King’s baby hairs with the same long, swift fingers and small smiles, or brush them down just-so. You think she would have been beautiful: both young Kingsley and her mother. You look at them again, while they’re focused, and wonder if their grandmother is in their features like your’s is in yours.

You think about how Kingsley can’t cook: was she not there to teach them? Was their mother not there either? With their hunger now, you bet they needed to eat so much as a child, and it hurts to ponder if they ever went hungry from the way you see them ration their leftovers.

You close your eyes as they part sections of your hair, cool bare skin on your scalp now, and the occasional rat tail of a comb catching stray hairs. Part, a dab of oil, a clip to hold the section: you can practically hear the steps light up in their head. As careful and precise with hair as they are with machines.

You think maybe they like machines because they don’t muddy the waters with feelings. Feelings—accepting or giving—do not come easy to them. And you have learned by now that what they feel is best determined by their actions, not the words they use as sword and shield against others. You wonder how they feel. Looking up at them does not make it any clearer, but…

They rub the mask between their palms to warm it, and you know somewhere in you this is love. This is as close to love as they know, and that is enough for you.

There may be lingering confusion in your feelings: you have always been attracted to men, and they are not a man—but they are also not a woman. There may be some hesitation to take a step from friendship with someone who means so much to you. But whatever you both have to give, when you’re both ready, will be enough for you.

You can imagine that little girl: too tall and lanky and active for their own good. Bruised knees and scratched arms and torn dresses every time they came back into the house in the evening, like you when you were young. Maybe the two of you would have been good friends back then, too. Maybe the world wouldn’t have gotten to Kingsley so much if you’d been there with them. It’s nothing you can change now: you know better than anyone that the past stays behind where it can only hurt you if you try to go back to it.

They look down at you now, the mask application finished, and survey the soft look in your eyes, the light smile on your face with a mirrored one of their own. You too, see the small traces of confusion flash by, but it melts away. The eye contact held as their bare hand comes up, brushing against your forehead softly as if to move stray strands away you know they’ve collected, then down the side of your cheek as if to catch some oil left behind they never dropped. Excuses for intimacy that does not come naturally to them. And right now that is enough.

“Do you think I should cut my hair?” you ask softly, hoping they see in your eyes how much their opinion truly matters to you. More than anyone’s ever has.

The question brings a sharpness to their brow, eyes still soft and searching.

“Do you want to? If you want to, do it—I’ll help. However I can.” Their face hardens. “Don’t ever let those stylists tell you what you can and can’t do for yourself. Don’t ever let them make you their doll.”

The last sentence is spat like venom; there’s a deep bitterness in those words, in that choice of words, but you know that’s a question you cannot ask.

You reach up and gently pull a curl that freed itself from Kingsley’s bun. You watch it stretch, far longer than it looks, and let it rest again, pushing it from their brow. You wonder what Kingsley looked liked with hair as long as yours, or what they’d look like with it even shorter. You wonder what colour they’ll braid in next, what length of braids, and if anyone ever gets to help them.

Their soft gaze breaks, reaching for the hose one last time to rinse the mask from your head. There is a new kind of quiet blossoming between the two of you as they rinse: a maybe, an almost, a sort of. An electricity even your mods can’t match, a feeling in the pit of your stomach even hunger couldn’t touch.

And when they begin to carefully dry your hair you ponder what it will mean in the future—what it means now. There is a soft tap on your forehead, twice, and you know that means to lift the mask but you’re not the one who wears it, so you turn your gaze upwards instead. Chrysantamum is leaned down, far enough to be close to your face, and their face is soft and their ears are red. That bright green gaze looks to your lips and back to your eyes, the tilt of the head a question, one you know well: may I kiss you? Your question. Just as you know the answer as you smile softly like they do, and lean in for them to catch your lips, always soft and questioning—never wanting to lock you in, never asking for more than you’re willing to give, never staying long. You part slowly, smiling softer than you have all night.

They suddenly knock the towel off your head and flee to the living room cackling, knowing you’ll give chase. Always one step ahead. You don’t disappoint, throwing the towel after them and bolting over to catch them in a kiss as they turn around. Charging in. For just a few minutes more you stay entangled, hands at the back of each other’s necks—another small intimacy with grand connotations.

When the two of you settle back into the living room— King on the couch and you between their knees—you wonder if this will one day become a memory you can fondly look back on. If you will remember the sepia tone streaming in through the window, the feeling of their fingers as they separate your hair—moisturising and combing, and of the soft pulls as they carefully weave braids along your scalp.

“Think PR would be pissed if I p-put a teal ribbon in your braid?” they ask with a surprising cheekiness.

“I’m a hero, not a cheerleader,” you complain with no actual objections. “Put a piece of jewellery or something instead.”

You hear their hands ruffling in their pocket, so you turn to look, curiosity piqued. They remove a few small charms, the kind you’ve seen in their own braids, twists, and locs. Pumping their brows at you cheesily, they put the hair tie in their hand between their teeth, moving to get a better grip on the braid they’re working on.

A few pulls you don’t quite feel later and you hear a little “Ta-da!” as your braid falls over your shoulder. You lift it up to get a better look and you see a charm woven in seamlessly: a small piece of turquoise more teal than blue.

You lean forward a little, drawing your knees to your chin with an arm around them, fiddling with it as the two of you fall into silence. The sensations of their hands on you, and the comfort of your home around them.

Right now, this is more than enough for you.

#I owed y’all something Sweet #the mischief scribbles #Fallen Hero: Rebirth #Pre-Rebirth #MC: Kingsley Chrysanta #Julia Ortega #Chargestep

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miraculouscontent · 4 years ago

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Didn’t Need Burrow (April 11th-16th)

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: After the Truth episode occurs, Luka will either not appear nor be talked about(not even by Marinette, Juleka, Sass, or Anarka) at all, or, if he does appear, he'll avoid Marinette like the Black Plague. Guess who's fault it'll be(Kagami will still appear and be on good terms with Adrien, though, since anything that makes Marinette happy needs to be either ruined or gotten rid of, while anything that makes her miserable needs to stay around just to be rubbed into her face.).

I s2g if they have Adrien and Kagami patch things up immediately just to make Marinette feel awkward--

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: The idea that Nino's hat is a keepsake from his late brother comes up during an episode where it inevitably gets damaged and/or destroyed. Marinette is somehow responsible/blamed for this, and/or is forced to try and repair it regardless of feasibility, while being guilt-tripped/ridden every inch of the way. Bonus points for Adrien making some clueless comment about buying a replacement and STILL being treated as more empathetic to Nino's feelings even while ignoring them.

“Bonus” if everyone pressures her over the hat, which eventually leads to Marinette realizes that it can’t be fixed to be the exact same way, so she hides it and lies about it, leading to the episode blaming her for hiding things from her “totally understanding friends” (who are suddenly “totally understanding” and are only upset that she lied to them/”thought so lowly of them”) instead of her friends for making her feel like she had to be perfect.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: A Sleeping Beauty-inspired akuma will ensnare Ladybug, 'forcing' Chat Noir to kiss her awake. While Adrien/Chat naturally claims that he would 'never take advantage of his lady', he is openly gleeful at the prospect and taunts her afterwards, complete with a call back to Oblivio as he tells her to 'check the LadyBlog' to find out what happened. Her dismay over this is played entirely for laughs.

*flashbacks to the “jokes” in “Prime Queen”*

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Just like in countless Salt Fics, Alya will get upset at Ladybug for claiming that it's 'too dangerous' for her to be Rena Rouge anymore after Miracle Queen. Regardless of what she does/how she lashes out, Marinette will be held 100% responsible for the fallout, with Su-Han criticizing her for selecting Alya/the others in the first place AND for 'allowing' their identities to be exposed.

That’s what you get for trusting people, Marinette (apparently).

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Alya will expose more Miraculous-related secrets on the LadyBlog, such as posting the identities of the heroes who were 'already outed' by Miracle Queen. Marinette will be blamed for this, with Su-Han reading her the riot act for every single choice she's made.

And also, Alya will get no flack for this because “she’s a journalist!! she’s just doing what she’s supposed to do!”

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: After spending most of the season taking the piss out of Marinette at every available opportunity, Su-Han will start warming up to her just in time to be taken out of the equation by something like Alya posting another 'big scoop' on her blog revealing his existence to the villains. Marinette will be left with even less support and all of the guilt, while Alya learns absolutely nothing from the experience because why would she?

Considering “Truth,” I just automatically presume that characters who support Marinette lovingly/unconditionally will either be abused or kicked to the curb.

Anonymous said:

Don't need Burrow: "Queen Banana" will be like typical episode with Chloe akumatization. 90% Chloe drama and angst, 10% akumatized Chloe (and probably 0% sense)

Show, I’m begging you, just let this character’s focus die already. We are SO tired...

Anonymous said:

didnt need burrow: the show ends with hawkmoth (now shadowmoth i guess) being defeated, heavy implications that the LS will be canon, but no solid proof, any other plot holes disappear in the cheery end music and all fans are left annoyed at the open ending filled with plot holes (bonus: That Guy says smin like "you would know if you watched carefully" to anyone that asks wtf happened)

Fun for us love square salters at least so there’s that? :P

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Trixx wants to return to Alya despite the danger/her past exposure, and ignores Marinette's concerns, leaving/reuniting with Alya over her protests. This is either played as 'It's fine, and Marinette should have trusted Alya more' or 'It's not fine, and it's all Marinette's fault for trusting Alya in the first place and letting Trixx get so attached'. Or both.

Astruc would totally use the opportunity to brag about the whole, “She’s already taken!” line in “Truth” being foreshadowing.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Bunnix reveals that there is an alternate, 'better' future in which Lila never worked with Hawkmoth and became a heroine instead. The turning point was, naturally, that Ladybug never called her out for lying/stealing from Adrien. (Possibly because Adrien never snooped in the safe in this timeline, yet it's still depicted as Marinette's fault.) May couple with confirming she's the future Hawkmoth and that it's all Mari's fault the heroes are still fighting her years later.

Which means that Chat makes the “reversible” mistakes (i.e: Cataclysming Bunnyx’s miraculous) while Ladybug makes the “permanent” ones.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette/Ladybug will get accused of being a selfish glory hound who needs to learn how to share the credit and 'be a team player'... after Adrien/Chat slacks off during a fight and refuses to help. Bonus points if this is tied into the exposed heroes' predicament somehow, implying that the REAL reason she won't give them 'their' Miraculi back is that she's selfish/short-sighted/not good at working with others/insert other bullshit excuse here.

T_T

I’m so tired.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Marinette will do something unbelievably selfless and self-sacrificing, only to promptly be slammed by the narrative and treated as though her decision was incredibly selfish.

Honestly you could just ad lib that.

“Marinette will do [something positive], only to promptly be slammed by the narrative and treated as though her decision was [negative].”

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Su-Han will pressure, belittle and berate Marinette until she breaks and agrees to give up being Ladybug/the Guardian. This is naturally treated as the worst thing she could possibly do, with everyone (including Su-Han) ripping into her for it. There is no equivalent of Plagg's 'I've had many holders, but nobody can replace you, Adrien' shilling, beyond Marinette being informed that she MUST continue and deal with her many inadequacies by becoming BETTER. She has no choice.

“You’re the worst Ladybug!”

“Okay I’ll stop being Ladybug.”

“HOW DARE YOU”

“?!?!?!”

Anonymous said:

Don’t need Burrow to know that the writers will retcon Marinette allowing Adrien to BORROW her lucky charm so that Marinette actually GAVE it to him instead.

Bonus: of course, the birthday scarf issue/secret is never addressed. RIP in piece, Marinette gift number xxx0

Technically, this has already happened even back in “Befana,” so I don’t count it. Adrien has said that Marinette gave him that lucky charm forever.

Definitely adding that scarf one though.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: We get Love Square scenes (shipping fuel) in the next episode (even though Maribug and Adrichat just broke up with Luka and Kagami).

I mean, we got love square shipping fuel in the Adrimi and Lukanette episodes, so :|

I’ve just come to expect inappropriate timing at this point.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: In a future episode Chat Noir will be even worse than he was in Lies and still be portrayed sympathetically. I don't know how you can get that low, but I have faith that the writers will be able to pull it off and that's not a good thing

“I don't know how you can get that low“

they’ll find a way, I’m sure

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Kagami will become an antagonist/team up with Shadow Moth post-Adrimi breakup for the plot twist "the main villain has been in the show all along." ((This is based on the end card for Lies. I really hope they don't do this because Kagami is one of the only reasons I'm still watching the show.))

I’d only be here for that if her endgoal is getting Luka and Marinette as far away from the plot as possible.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: We STILL don't know how the Peacock Miraculous got damaged and how Emilie Agreste fell sick. Bonus points, we find out in the season/series finale or on social media.

Double bonus if Astruc claims that the decision is good and they did it on purpose (probably to keep people talking).

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: Zoe debuts as the new Bee holder on the same episode Chloé is akumatized.

I’m 100% expecting Chloe to be salty at all the adoration that Zoe gets.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow: if Adrien is ever in the wrong about something, it will only be for about five minutes and it will ultimately be blamed on Marinette.

Marinette: *breathes*

writers: Yes! Something we can blame on her!

Anonymous said:

Didn't need burrow: The relationship between the Couffaines and Jagged will not be explored. They might perform a song together and that's all, Luka forgives Jagged for abandoning him (his daddy issues just magically disappear so he doesn't bring it up anymore) while Juleka doesn't interact with Jagged at all

I’m torn between, “Luka will basically never appear again,” and, “Luka will suddenly appear much more often now that he’s no longer a ‘threat’ to the love square (Marinette didn’t break up with him because of Adrien but sure).”

Anonymous said:

Didn't need Burrow: "Gabriel Agreste" will be all about how he's not really evil just misunderstood. He had a lonely childhood or some garbage and we should feel totally sad for him you guys.

wow i hate it

#Didn't Need Burrow

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annamaximoff24 · 3 years ago

Text

Double-Up

Nat x Reader: angst, mild smut, fluff

WC: 1.5k

Description: Set during Age of Ultron, the team goes to Clint’s house to lay low. There aren’t enough rooms for everyone so you and Natasha have to share.

“We’re still a few hours away,” you heard Clint say as he piloted the Quinjet through the night.

You and the rest of the team had just faced Ultron and the two enhanced, who seemed to be working with him now. The boy, Pietro, was fast. The girl, Wanda, could manipulate minds. He was an inconvenience, but she was considered a serious threat to the Avengers. Working her magic, she was able to hypnotize the whole team, leaving you all a little shaken.

You didn’t know what the others were forced to see, but you would never forget the visions she put in your head. With a wave of her hand she had thrown you back into your childhood. You were twelve, huddled in your room. Your younger sister was curled up next to you. She had been crying and you were trying to comfort her. Beyond your closed bedroom door you could hear your parents screaming at each other. This happened often but it was worse this time. They sounded like they were at the top of the stairs but suddenly your mom’s screaming stopped and you heard a gunshot, followed by the sound of her body falling down the stairs.

You screamed, trying to cover your sister’s ears. The police showed up later that night after a concerned neighbor called. Your dad was arrested and sent to jail for the murder, and your sister was never the same after that. You always blamed yourself for that night. You felt like there was more you could have done to protect her and maybe even save your mom.

“A few hours away from where?” Tony’s question snapped you back to the jet. You looked around. Bruce was rocking back and forth, a blanket wrapped around him. Natasha was sitting quietly, staring blankly ahead.

“We’re going to a safe house,” Clint responded. Safe. That sounds good, you thought to yourself. With that slight comfort, you felt the weight of the fight fall on you and you slept for the rest of the ride.

*****

The next morning you were woken up by Steve. The Quinjet had landed in a field, you didn’t know where, but there was a large house on the lot. You and the rest of the team brushed yourselves off and walked inside.

You all met Clint’s very pregnant wife and two kids. He had never mentioned them to you before but the kids knew Nat, and they were ecstatic to see her standing in the doorway.

“So we’re staying here for a few days?” Steve asked.

Clint and his wife, Laura, nodded. “Unfortunately,” Laura said, “There aren’t enough bedrooms for everyone. Some of you will have to share.” Tony rolled his eyes at this before claiming the living room couch as his own.

Thor couldn’t stay past nightfall, so Steve and Bruce decided to room together. That left you and Nat.

“What do you say, Y/N?” Nat crossed her arms over her chest and smiled. “Why don’t you and I have a little slumber party?”

You and Nat had become good friends after working together for a year. Being the only two girls in the tower pushed you closer, but there was still a lot you didn’t know about each other. There was something intimidating about sharing a room with her, even just for a night or two.

“Sounds fun,” was all you said, smiling back at her.

You, along with the rest of the team, spent the day helping out around the house and keeping the kids entertained. Shortly after dinner, Natasha disappeared, going up to your shared room.

Once you finished dessert the conversation had started to slow. Tony had made one too many comments about Cap’s “Language” incident, and everyone was getting tired.

“I would see myself out, but it appears you’re all sitting in my bedroom.” Tony said. Steve got up and went to sit on the porch. Bruce decided he should go to sleep, and Clint and Laura went to tuck the kids in.

“Goodnight guys,” you called out before making your way up the stairs.

“Goodnight Y/N,” they all responded.

You walked up to the bedroom, the second door on the right, Laura had said. You opened the door, surprised to see the room was empty, the beds still made. Where’s Nat? You thought. As if on cue, another door across the room clicked open. Nat walked out, a cloud of steam escaping with her. Her hair was wet and she was in nothing but a towel.

“Oh, sorry.” You blushed at her before quickly turning to face the wall.

“Don’t worry about it,” she laughed. “We’re both girls here.”

You let out a quiet laugh to couple hers, still focusing on a painting that hung in front of you.

“You can turn around now,” Natasha called. You turned slowly to find her in a pair of shorts, slipping a tank top over her head.

“I should change too. Do you know where I could find some clothes?” You asked. “Ones that would fit me, at least,” you added, knowing you were substantially smaller than both Nat and Laura.

“I have something.” Nat walked to the dresser by the door and pulled something out of the top drawer. “What do you think?” She held up a lacy black and red nightgown. “I left it here the last time I visited.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely not wearing that.”

“Why not?” Nat pouted. “It would look so good on you.” She gave you a playful smirk. Was she…flirting with you?

“Because,” you started, swallowing nervously, “I’m sure it looks amazing on your curves, but I have the body of a twelve-year-old boy. I would drown in that thing.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Nat started to close the space between you, driving you up against the wall.

“Natasha,” her face was inches from your own, “what are you doing?”

“Are we not allowed to have a little fun? You’ve been so tense lately.” Her gaze traveled down your body and you felt shivers run down your spine. “I think you need to loosen up a bit.” Natasha ran her hands up your arms, stopping to rub your shoulders. You let them fall, relaxing your muscles for the first time in days.

She smiled at you as you let out a relieved sigh. What the hell, she’s right. One night of fun couldn’t hurt. “Just so we’re on the same page…” you looked up at her and, with a sudden burst of courage, cupped the side of her face with your palm and kissed her lightly. “You mean this, right?” You said, pulling away.

“That was bold,” she noted, a smile working its way across her face.

“I hope that’s not a problem, Agent Romanoff.” Deciding to roll with it fully, you threw extra sweetness in the last few words.

“Not at all.” She reconnected her lips to yours. They were soft and warm, and her hands traveled down your back, pulling you closer to her. You yelped as she picked you up, not breaking the kiss. She walked back towards the bed, and you wrapped your legs around her waist to stabilize yourself.

Nat placed you on the bed gently, trailing kisses down your jaw. She pulled the collar of your shirt down and worked her way lower. Your head was thrown back into the pillows, and your eyes were closed. You just wanted to enjoy this for a while.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Nat stopped, rolling next to you as you sat up on the bed. “Who is it?” She called.

“Laura,” the voice on the other side rang out.

“Come in.” You said, running a hand through your hair to erase any evidence of Nat’s hands in it.

Laura appeared in the doorway, an extra set of clothes in her arms. “Hi, I just wanted to bring Y/N something to sleep in.” She offered them to you.

“Oh,” Natasha flashed you a teasing look, you glared at her, trying not to blush. “Thanks.” You took them from Laura and placed them on the bed next to you.

“Let me know if you need anything else.” You and Nat both nodded. “Until then, I’ll leave you two alone.” She walked back, you and Nat giggling quietly to yourselves. “And girls,” Laura paused at the door, “Don’t make too much noise. The walls are thin, and Lila likes to wander around late at night.”

“We won’t, Laur.” Nat rolled her eyes. “Goodnight.”

Once Laura closed the door behind her, Nat turned back to you. “So?” She raised an eyebrow. You hit her arm gently. “Ow, what was that for?”

“You are a tease, Natasha Romanoff.” She feigned offense at this, knowing you were right. “Now, I’m going to change and go to sleep.

“But-” Nat protested as you got up.

“Thin walls!” You called back as you walked to the bathroom to get ready for bed. It felt good to have a little control over her.

#blackwidow #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #mcu #marvel #marvel women

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rachelbethhines · 3 years ago

Text

Robin Hood and His Merry Band

list of characters for an original series I’m working on

Alan-a-Dale - the gloomy and cynical bard, the grumpy voice of reason who doesn’t give a fuck, wonders why he hangs out with these crazies, knows it’s cause they’re family to him but won’t admit it out loud, besties with Friar Tuck even though they never agree on anything, is clearly a bi disaster

The Archdeacon of Canterbury - The aging head cleric of the church of England. He supports King Richard but is becoming increasingly impotent because of his failing health. Still holds a lot of political power because of his title though.

The Azure Assassin - A deadly mercenary and rival to Robin Hood. Orphaned at a young age Azure had to steal to survive. She stowed away on a pirate ship at the age of ten and has spent the pass eight years studying fighting techniques the world over. They call her the Azure Assassin because her blue eyes are the last thing you’ll see before dying. She’s gained a modest fortune and fame as a spy and assassin, however she can never stay in one play too long due to her reputation getting out. Prince John has offered her a pardon and a place in high society if she brings in Robin Hood’s head. Shame she’s fallen in love with his brother Will Scarlet, as that complicates matters.

The Bishop of Hereford - Conservative asshole who supports Prince John’s rule and shares his beliefs on ‘bringing order to the kingdom’. Wants to usurp the Archdeacon as the head of the church. Is Friar Tuck’s and Sister Clara’s arch nemesis.

Dame Brianna DuBois - Also known as the The Black Knight, DuBois is loyal to the throne of England and whoever sits upon it. She’s Prince John’s personal bodyguard and unbeknownst to all a double agent for King Richard who is in hiding. However she is conflicted when her duty places her lover Yua in jeopardy. Yes, she’s totally a butch lesbian.

The Duke of Essex - Prince John’s adviser and right hand man. He only cares for power for power’s sake but is sneaky and conniving and willing to play the long game to get it. He prefers poison to swords, but is surprisingly good at hand to hand combat when cornered. Has a pet snake. It’s the only living thing that he loves.

Elenore of England - Prince John and King Richard’s sister and Maid Marian’s mother. She died when negotiations during a worker dispute turned violent. Unable to quell the people’s rage, she was stuck down during a riot. Richard, blaming himself for losing his temper and causing things to escalate has since tried to follow in her footsteps and become peacemaker. Prince John went the opposite route and blamed the ungrateful peasants (criminals in his mind) and resented Richard for even bothering to negotiating in the first place.

Friar Tuck - The jovial and optimistic heart of the team. He tries to keep everyone’s spirits up and believes that helping people is the ultimate expression of god’s love. Is a hopeless romantic and also very, very gay. He butts heads with more traditional leaders of the church often. He also has a not so secret crush on his best friend Alan.

Guy of Gisbourne - From pauper to nobleman, Guy is Robin’s opposite in everyway. He crawled up from the bottom rung by using and stepping on others and he’s always looking for the opportunity to climb the ranks. Don’t let his foppish ways fool you though, he is both a cunning and ruthless foe and isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. His latest scheme however is to marry Maid Maiden and become next in line for the throne as Prince John has no other heirs save his ward.

King Richard - Good Richard the Lionhearted is no longer a bloodthirsty crusader in this alternate universe but a peacemaker. He wishes to end wars, not start them, however his more abrasive, uncouth, and impulsive nature can often clash with his loftier goals. Many feel the king would do better to stay at home and tend to domestic matters instead of concerning himself with the conflicts of other far off lands. At the start of the story he has disappeared on one of his diplomatic visits. In reality Prince John has stuck a deal with the king’s enemies and he is currently on the run.

Lady Tiffany - Little John’s little wife and the daughter of the Sherriff of Nottingham. She acts as the gang’s ‘man on the inside’ helping Robin Hood sneak in and out of places and feeding the team needed information. She’s stubborn and spoiled but also very kind hearted. She usually can get her father to give into her demands with just a pout and when that doesn’t work a full on tantum will do. She a woman who knows what she wants and what she wants is her man. Unfortunately daddy dreariest would never approve of their union and so Friar Tuck marries them in secret.

Little John - Robin’s best friend and right hand man. He’s a simple man who loves life’s simple pleasures, good food, good friends, and a good brawl from time to time. He adores his partner, Tiffany and would like nothing more than to marry her for real, in a real church, in front of the whole world. However their relationship must remained hidden from her father, the Sheriff, since the violent lawman would sooner see him hanged then have a thief for a son-in-law.

Lord Locksley - Robin’s and Will’s father. He is arrested for ‘not paying taxes’ but in reality it’s for supporting King Richard and secretly helping the displaced monarch. His arrest leads to Robin and Will becoming outlaws and the series kicks off two years later.

Maid Marian - Prince John’s ward and niece. Her mother died when she was young and her beloved uncle adopted her. Prince John is the only parent she’s ever known and she at first believes him to be a kind and just man. She’s completely oblivious of Prince’s John’s underhanded dealings and oppression of the poor and at first is skeptical of Robin Hood. However as the two grow closer, Marian learns how harsh the real world is and just how much her father figure has lied to her.

Miss Yua - Maid Marian’s lady-in-waiting and best friend. She’s the daughter of Sir Ivanhoe and longs to be a knight as well. She’s a stickler for rules and doesn’t trust Robin Hood and his gang of thieves. At first anyways, over time she too learns of Prince John’s cruelty and even becomes a victim of the tyrant’s schemes. Which puts her in direct conflict with her love, Brianna DuBois.

Much the Miller's Son - born as Midge the miller’s daughter, the young Much longs to be accepted as a boy. As such he’s ditched his dresses, cut his hair, and ran away to Sherwood Forrest in order to be free from society’s expectations. The rest of the merry band accepts Much for who he really is, but at only 13 won’t let him join their gang. He still winds up caught up in their misadventures anyways due to his refusal to listen to anybody, and his determination to get away from his overbearing mother.

Nurse Agnes - Maid Marian’s wet nurse and the closest thing to a mother that she has. Agnes believes in the ‘old ways’ and is very superstitious. She’s also very critical of royalty in general, but is smart enough not to say so out loud. She’s tried to raise Marian into a better person than Prince John, but eventually was dismissed once Marian had come of age. Since leaving the court Agnes has become the witch of the woods and a healer for the poor.

Prince John - The main antagonist. Prince John believes that he needs to bring order to the kingdom of England and feels like his brother King Richard has neglected his duties as ruler and placed the kingdom in danger. He'll do whatever it takes to protect the country including subjecting it’s undesirables.

Robin Hood - Leader of the Merry Band and archer extraordinaire, Robin Hood had to go on the lam when his father was arrest for ‘treason’. While his first priority was to keep his baby brother, Will, safe, the two of them met other outcasts in need over the years have built up an underwound network of rebels who fight against Prince John’s rule. Seemingly suave and cool at first, Robin is actually a bundle of nerves as he tries desperately to keep his friends and family safe...even if it’s mostly from themselves. His world is turned upside down though when he meets the lovely Maid Marian.

Sheriff of Nottingham - The spiteful and cruel sheriff tries to keep the small town of Nottingham under his thumb. He hates Robin Hood and his Merry Band with a passion and sees their continued exitance as a personal insult. The only thing that will deter him from his goal of putting those outlaws in their place is his devotion to his beloved daughters Tiffany. Who distracts him with her seemingly impulsive and shallow whims.

Sir Ivanhoe - A respected knight who once served under King Richard has returned home only to find that his king has not made the journey back as planned. He suspects that Prince John is up to no good, but is afraid to make any risky moves so long as his daughter Yua lives among the court. Her safety is the most important thing in the world to him.

Sister Clara - The resident nerd of Sherwood Forrest and the brains of the team. Clara had joined a convent in order to receive an education and to study science, however her experiments were frowned upon by more traditional leaders of the church, like the Bishop of Hereford. She’s since renounced her monastic vows and has joined Robin Hood’s Merry Band in the pursuit of science! She’s allowed free rein on the sole condition that she doesn’t blow up the camp. She still manages to blow up the camp, at least once a month. Still her inventions are invaluable to the team and she’s absolutely feral with her chim-bombs.

The Trapper - A mysterious hermit who sometimes visits the local pub. He’ll often corner patrons with crazy drunken ramblings and loves to give Robin cryptic prophecies and disjoined ‘clues’ whenever they run into each other. (turns out this is an act and he’s really a spy for King Richard)

Will Scarlett - Robin’s younger brother. Will was 15 when they lost their father and now at 17 wants revenge. He’s a hothead and is constantly picking fights with everyone and anyone. While he is dismissive of Robin’s overprotectiveness, he both loves and admires his brother. Even tries to emulate him in some ways. He also would like to think of himself as a smooth talking clever con artist and ladies man but more often then not his temper gets the better of him. Like most teens he’s obsessed with the latest fashion tends and loves to wear fancy clothes (that he’s usually stolen) He’s favorite article of clothing is his impractical red feathered hat. He’s in love with Azure and is best friends with Much.

#robin hood #robin hood and his merry band

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joontier · 4 years ago

Text

mile high memoirs | oneshot

synopsis: you and the two other rappers of the global sensation BTS make a collaboration of sorts

pairings: namgi (namjoon and yoongi) x reader

rating: R (18+)

genre: fluff, humor, smut | au: idol! au; established relationship! au

warnings: pwp basically hnngnhng; and yes sex on a private jet bc why tf not ; cunnilingus, oral sex (m and f receiving), cum swallowing, dom! Yoongi undertones, threesome, double penetration, anal sex, multiple orgasms; i have nothing else to say at this point except im dragging yall with me to thirst hours

word count: 5.9k

g/n: NAMGI NATION RISE!!!!!! anywho, this is a lovely gift for @mintseesaw for being an awesomesauce person in general and yes, we’re thirsting for the same men bUT SHE WONT SHARE HNGNNNG SO I’VE WRITTEN THIS INSTEAD (in the hopes that this might satiate my obviously unquenchable thirst for the hyung line!?/1!?!?) ALSO THIS IS HEAVILY UNEDITED KJFSKDJFSDJF please let me know what you think! x

between the lenses navi. | navi. | m.list

“_________! Please look this way!”

“How do you feel about New Day becoming the number one streamed song in more than forty countries after being released just last week?”

“Is it true that you’re in a relationship with BTS’ Suga? Or RM? Or are the three of you engaged in a polyamorous relationship?”

The last one catches you off guard and you look away from the cameras to hide the amusement on your face. The last thing you need is people speculating about your personal life once they see your reaction to their questions, so you continue on your way to immigration, face down and expressionless.

If you were being completely honest, there was always a crowd that came with you when you had schedules overseas, fans and paparazzi huddled together as they took pictures of you. But today was different, especially considering the fact that you were also at Gimpo, and not Incheon.

With Gimpo, a significantly less busier airport than Incheon, you had only anticipated a smaller crowd but you seemed to have forgotten that you were scheduled to fly with two of the rappers of BTS to Amsterdam today to film the music video for your collaboration, “New Day”.

Upon your arrival, a throng of security guards placed themselves as barricades to bar the large group of people from crowding the hallways. Your team successfully weaves your way through the massive crowd and arrives safely by the immigration.

You soon see your boyfriend lounging by the private boarding area, and Yoongi immediately stands to greet you. You place a quick peck on his lips when you meet. Namjoon stands to greet you as well and you turn to the younger man to give him a huge hug. “It’s been a while since I saw you Joonie!” The tall rapper gets shy at your nickname, dimples peeking as he looks down.

“It must have been wild out there,” Yoongi says, giving you a once over as he checks if you got hurt or injured on the way to the boarding area. You coo at your boyfriend, face crumpling at his concern even after years of being in a relationship. Nuzzling your head onto the crook of his neck, you inhale the wonderful scent of the perfume you’d gave him when you came back from your US tour.

“Yeah it was! Honestly whenever I leave Korea, the amount of people who’d send me off isn’t even half of the crowd out there – and that’s already in Incheon! Not Gimpo! I always seem to forget that you guys are worldwide superstars!” Yoongi just laughs at your observation, shaking his head at you as he offers his iced Americano.

Unbeknownst to those outside your private lives, you had initially met Yoongi pre-debut. You used to attend the same school back in Daegu and fun fact: you were the same ex-girlfriend he’d composed a letter for during high school and sent the same to a radio station to have it aired.

You had both met at a tender age, and admittedly, there were a few petty reasons for your break-up, but one of them was because you both wanted to pursue a career in music, and with the kpop industry not exactly big on the idols dating, you had decided to remain friends, for the time being.

It was Yoongi who contacted you first when you debuted in late 2012, and as you caught on with your lives, sharing similar stories during your trainee days, he’d also asked you to anticipate their debut in a few months’ time as well.

True to his word, their group debuted the following year in June, and you had sent congratulatory flowers to BigHit, praising them for their powerful stages and a very promising career. You and Yoongi had kept in touch ever since. Nothing wrong about rekindling an old flame, right?

Funny enough, dating under the radar seemed to have fallen naturally for the two of you as you both prefer staying indoors and improvising dates rather than having to go out and risk getting caught by the media. Besides, it would have been easier just in case things got a little bit heated. Which happened most of the time. In your defense though, being able to meet at least once a week was already a blessing – so occurrences like that were bound to happen…

One day while you were trying to work out this melody for a song you composed, Yoongi sat next to you and pulled you on his lap as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Why don’t I help you with that love?” He lets you rest your back on his chest as his fingers fluidly move against the piano keys. Genuinely satisfied with what he played for you, you placed a kiss on his cheek as a token of your gratitude. “Thanks, Suga PDnim.”

“Speaking of that… do you want to have a collab – you and me?” You look at him, expectantly, mouth slightly open at surprise of his proposal. Truthfully, you had thought about that even before you actually got back in to a relationship, but you could never really bring the subject up because he always seemed so busy and you didn’t want to burden him any further by asking for extra work.

And that’s what you told him, but your boyfriend only laughed at you, intertwining his hands with yours on the piano. “Baby, I would’ve dropped all the other collaborations if you had just said the word.”

You were beyond elated, and honored, and when Namjoon came in to check on Yoongi, the latter asked if he had any opinion on a collaboration between Yoongi and you. Your boyfriend even convinced the younger rapper to get involved in the track. With the blessing of Bang PDnim, you’re finally here, scheduled to travel overseas to film the music video for the track the three of you had worked on which went global in mere hours, thanks to the very talented men you got the chance to work with.

You take out your camera from your bag to film a little, just in case you’ll get to release a ‘behind-the-scenes’ vlog for your collaboration. You make an attempt to film Yoongi who’s half-awake but all to no avail. Namjoon gladly offers some screen time for your video. The younger rapper laughs shyly when you squeal in excitement asking him for a few words about your collaboration. Namjoon does so like a professional: telling the camera where you’re headed off to today, thanking the fans for their never-ending support, and wishing them to anticipate the upcoming music video.

It doesn’t take long before someone tells the lot that your plane is ready to board, so you wake a dazed Yoongi and bid goodbye to the rest of the staff who were taking a separate flight to your destination.

Ever the hardworking idol, Yoongi decides to make some revisions on a song he’s working on while you take this time to finally finish a book Namjoon himself recommended a while back. You don’t notice the hours that have passed by when you check the window, and it’s already pitch-black outside, save the occasional gray because of the clouds.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you head over to the lavatory to relieve your bladder. On your way back to your seat, you glance Namjoon’s way and see the flesh-colored screen your eyes getting glued to the screen watching two men pound a girl into the mattress. You get drawn back to reality because of some minor turbulence and you quickly avert your eyes from the screen.

“Babe, Joonie’s watching porn,” you whisper as you get to your seat, snuggling into your warm blanket. “And who told my girlfriend it was right to snoop into other people’s preferential pastimes?”

You roll your eyes at him, “It’s not like I purposely watched what was on his screen! Just in case you needed the facts, he was seated with his back facing me, so it’s just natural that I’d get a glimpse of whatever ‘preferential pastime’ it is that you he was doing on his phone! It’s not my fault he didn’t dim the brightness if he truly wanted to watch it privately- “

“You didn’t need to go off, babe,” Yoongi laughs, placing a kiss on your head. “Should we head to bed now? I wanna sleep…and cuddle. Sleep, really, but since you’re here, I guess we could cuddle.”

“You make it sound like it’s a chore!”

Yoongi gives your indignance no attention, just tugging you up from your seat towards the bedroom. “Joon, we’re going to go to sleep now. You should go do the same soon.”

Namjoon’s lips part to reply, but Yoongi beats him to it. “And don’t even think about attempting to sleep in that seat. There are two beds back there for a reason. _______ and I will just share one. Feel free to take the other.” A small smile graces the younger man’s face in gratitude, nodding his head as he wishes you both a good night’s sleep.

Of course, life is bittersweet – so even with an insanely comfy bed and your boyfriend beside you to snuggle freely – a good night’s sleep is the last thing you get. Restlessly turning to lie on your back for what seems to be the hundredth time tonight, you heave a sigh as you stare at the jet’s ceiling. Must’ve been the iced Americano you shared with Yoongi before you boarded. Damn him and his triple-shot Americano.

Namjoon enters the room and notices your state of restlessness. “Can’t sleep?”

“Sort of.”

“There’s warm milk by the galley if you want some.”

“I’m too lazy to get up…”

Namjoon chortles, finding it’s moments like these that remind him of your likeness to Yoongi. “I can get you some if you want?” Namjoon offers, already turning to leave the room but you grab his arm, stopping him from doing so.

“No, please! You really don’t need to. I know I’ll be able to sleep in a few more minutes….”

“The average person falls asleep in twenty, and you and Yoongi hyung came here about an hour ago,” Namjoon points out. Giving him a blank stare, you reply, “Why don’t you head to bed and rest? We’ve still got a long day tomorrow.”

“Okay. Good night, noona.”

“Night Joonie.”

You have proven all of Google’s methods of falling asleep faster to be false. Warm milk, the 4-7-8 breathing method, relaxing music, even counting sheep in vain. You’d even tried working on your vlog to Amsterdam (that you probably aren’t even going to release), giving up when you couldn’t make out Yoongi’s slurred speech when you tried to interview him while he was napping (you don’t know why you even bothered at this point, but you probably thought it was funny earlier this afternoon).

Nada. Nothing was working, not when you’ve still got three shots of espresso coursing through your veins.

There was only one way left and you had a feeling that this was going to definitely knock you out. You need to get exhausted, and the only idea left is sitting cross-legged at the back of your head, blowing a huge bubble with her gum as she files her nails. She looks at you with taunting eyes. You glance over to Namjoon’s bed, analyzing his features to see if he had gone to sleep already or not. A light snore that escapes his lips assures you so.

Letting out another exhale, you turn to face Yoongi on your left, studying his features. Your boyfriend wakes when your lips graze his cheek as you place a light kiss on his milky skin. One eye pries open to peer at you. “Babe, what are you doing?” His groggy voice shouldn’t have appealed to you as strongly as it did now, but your desperation to get some sleep had seemed to travel south.

“Just kissing my beautiful boyfriend,” you shrug innocently, fighting the teasing lilt in your voice when you see the corner of his lips rise at your sudden compliment. “You don’t fool me, Miss _____, Billboard’s Top Female Solo Artist of the Year, MAMA’s Best Rap Performance, Golden Disc Awards’ Best…”

“Okay, okay, you got me.” You giggle as Yoongi pulls you closer to meet your lips in a chaste kiss. “What’s wrong princess?” You state the obvious, pointing to your eyes which now probably had bags under them. “Can’t sleep,” you pout, slipping your hand underneath his shirt to give him a back rub as you snuggle to his chest.

“And what do you suppose we are to do about it?” Yoongi asks, chest rumbling as he speaks. You take your bottom lip between your teeth as you look up at him expectantly, giving him a knowing look.

Yoongi looks at you incredulously, the lack of rest still visible in his features. You instantly look away, guilt spreading across your chest. You internally scold yourself as you had to wake up your boyfriend for selfish reasons. Your boyfriend senses your sudden hesitance and places a finger under your chin, ordering you to look at him. “Hey, hey, look at me darling. Right here, right now? I’m gonna be honest with you, I don’t have the energy to-“

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll do all the work.”

“And Namjoon, who’s just a mere meter away?” His pitch lowers, voice now barely above a whisper. You nod shyly and Yoongi’s eyes darken at your unspoken offer.

“You’re a naughty little slut, aren’t you?” Yoongi hisses, placing his hands on your waist and lifting you easily to have your sit on his thighs, just below his crotch. “Wanting to fuck on a plane, while another member is sleeping right beside us?”

Placing your hands on Yoongi’s chest for support, you move your hips forward, grinding your crotch against your boyfriend’s. Yoongi pulls you forward by your arms, just enough that your face is merely centimeters away from him. Wasting no time, he presses his lips against yours, darting his tongue out to deepen the kiss. He expresses his desire to help you with your dilemma by thrusting upwards gently to join your gyrating hips.

You peek sideways to check on Namjoon and breathe a sigh of relief when he finally turns to the other side, back facing the both of you.

You hastily discard your top and your bra in desperation, hands roaming all over your torso and eventually letting them end at your chest, fondling with your breasts and tweaking your nipples between your fingers. Not satisfied with your own ministrations, you guide Yoongi’s hands to your breasts, letting him squeeze them as he pleases beneath his open palms.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” Yoongi murmurs, bending his knees to push himself upwards to make himself more comfortable. Yoongi quickly attaches his moist lips to one of your breasts, sucking at the supple flesh. You grind heavier against him in response and Yoongi takes this as an opportunity to fist a handful of your hair and tug sharply, baring your neck to him.

You barely manage to hold in your whimpers when he sucks on a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, definitely leaving a purplish mark there that you’ll eventually have to cover up with foundation. Nothing you’ve never done before. “Remember that short dress you wore on stage last week with that dangerous cleavage?” You nod shakily, remembering the way Yoongi tried hard to not stare at you too long as one of his fansites might catch onto something.

“Guess what baby? It’s payback time.”

“For what?” You flutter your eyes innocently at him and you suddenly feel the temperature rise a few degrees with Yoongi’s intense stare.

“You knew exactly what you were doing that night, naughty little tease.” Okay, maybe you did, and maybe you bit your lip in front of the camera at the exact moment you knew he was looking. Needless to say, he avoided your eyes for the rest of the evening during that particular awards show.

He thrusts up harshly, his clothed hard-on grinding deliciously against your likewise covered cunt. “Mhmm, Yoongs… I- I wanna…” You don’t find the need to say anything else, just one look at the bulge inside his sweatpants was enough for him to understand.

“Yes please.” Yoongi sighs in contentment, raising his hips to help you remove his clothes. You include his boxers as you take his sweatpants off, cock slapping against his stomach as it springs free from the confines of his underwear.

Giggling excitedly, you hide beneath the covers, fitting yourself snugly between Yoongi’s legs. You take your time as you stare at his dick, long and girthy and curved just the right amount – always a tight fit inside your walls. You couldn’t wait for later when he’ll let you impale yourself on his cock as you ride him – the vivid picture makes you even wetter.

Building up his anticipation, you start placing kisses from his happy trail down to his groin, kneading his balls gently while you’re at it. Finding it difficult to communicate his feelings is one trait of Yoongi that definitely has its pros and cons. For one, people actually think Yoongi doesn’t care for others but it’s actually the complete opposite, but along with this, he gives the most genuine reactions, one which you are thankful for, especially during times like these.

Yoongi’s pretty responsive, and vocal at times when he’s really in the mood, and when you tentatively flick your tongue against his frenulum, the instantaneous quiver of Yoongi’s body has you reveling, giving yourself an imaginary pat on the back.

Momentarily leaving his red, angry shaft, you gently take his balls in your mouth, sucking on it, and gently massaging it with your tongue. “Quit the teasing, _______.” Being the good, obedient girl that you are, you comply immediately, paying attention to his dick this time.

You see his abdominals contract when you finally take him in your mouth, veiny hands grabbing at your temple to fist a handful of your hair. Inch by inch, you let his cock sink into your mouth, swallowing when he reaches the back of your throat. Yoongi hisses at the sensation, cursing to a throw pillow he’d taken from the seats.

Not wanting to agonize him any longer, you get to a pleasurable pace, bobbing your head up and down his length. Yoongi’s chest starts heaving and his grip on your hair tightens – the tell-tale signs of his impending orgasm. “Shit, baby…” Your boyfriend warns you that he’s about to cum, and you pull back a little, just to feel him release ropes of his cum inside your mouth.

Yoongi beckons you closer, weakly pulling at your arms to have you lie on his chest. He’s still panting when you get closer, “You, darling, are perfection personified.”

Slapping his chest lightly in jest, you reply, “You’re only saying that because I just gave you the best blowjob of your life.” Yoongi pulls his head back, facial features exaggeratedly contorted to fake being offended. “Okay first of all, you always do. And second, do you want me to get sappy and make a list what makes you the perfect woman ever?” He asks, letting two of his fingers dance on the bare skin of your belly, eventually leading southwards, “Or…I could just show you how much you mean to me by doing something else? Something you and I will both enjoy, hmm?”

Expressing your approval with a hum, Yoongi wastes no time, meeting your lips in a feverish kiss. Gasping at the sensation of his wet lips trailing all the way from your cheek, down to your jaw then your collarbones and onto the valley of your breasts, you squirm impatiently underneath your boyfriend.

“Patience, darling,” Yoongi chuckles, sending you a flirty wink as he gets down on you, teasingly pulling at the waistband of your shorts before removing them. His gaze darkens when he notices your underwear choice – a lacy red thong just for him. You’ve meant to have him remove it from you once you reach the hotel in Amsterdam, but doing it in a jet seems just as hot.

When he gets the thong off of you, he quickly pockets it inside his discarded sweatpants by the end of the bed. Getting back to his task at hand, you’re unable to control the gasp that escapes your lips when Yoongi brazenly flattens his tongue on your bare core.

Keeping your folds open with two fingers, he curls his tongue around your clit, thighs subconsciously squeezing his head in between because of the stimulation. With one hand, he keeps your legs spread open for him. Alternating between your clit and your entrance, Yoongi makes sure not a single region of your core is left out.

Wanting to put your limits to the test, your boyfriend tentatively slides a finger against your folds, the coldness of your couple ring on his digit making you quiver to the bone. He slowly slides a finger in, prepping your hole for what’s to come. You plead for one more, fully aware that your greedy little pussy isn’t contented with one. Yoongi complies with your request at once, pumping his digits inside of you and occasionally curling them inside. That familiar coil inside you tightens with every second, and with one particular curl of his digit and his mouth on your clit, you reach your high.

Your body trembles with the intensity of your orgasm, and Yoongi won’t stop just yet, still licking long stripes on your cunt. Your boyfriend stops abruptly and rises, resting all his weight on his arms as he crawls forward and lowers himself to whisper something in your ear. “He’s awake. You want me to do something about it?”

Legs closing subconsciously while in thought, Yoongi gives you a few choices to ponder on. “We could pretend he’s not awake and get done with this, or…” Yoongi looks at you, carefully studying your facial reaction, “we could have another collaboration of some sort…”

“It’s really up to you baby, I’m honestly okay with both.”

You raise your eyebrows at his statement, never really taking Yoongi as the type to explore your deepest sexual fantasies. But then again, Yoongi has always been one to support you in everything, even with your kinks. Maybe the idea didn't surprise you as much as it should have considering the level of trust that came with living with someone for almost ten years already.

Yoongi gently falls to your side for a moment as he lets you decide. “You know, Namjoon used to have a crush on you,” your boyfriend informs, twirling a loose strand of your hair around his finger. Now that was a surprise. “He did?”

“Mhmm. At one point, he even had you as his phone wallpaper when you released your second single.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, I really don’t mind if you wanted to indulge him, you know, as an early birthday present? We actually had this kind of conversation a few years back and honestly, we’re both willing to try a threesome… what better way to do it with a person you trust right?”

The bluntness of his words catches you off guard - several trains of thoughts scattered throughout your brain. Namjoon had a crush on you? Birthday present? Threesome? How did you even get in this situation in the first place? Yoongi shifts a little as you continue contemplating, then you take notice of Yoongi’s bare lower half, cock still stiff and upright. Shit!

“You’re still hard,” you comment lamely, staring at his dick. “I know, and I’d greatly appreciate it if you tell me your decision quickly…”

You look at him again, checking if there is the slightest hint of uncertainty in his eyes. When you see none, you ask him again, “You’re really sure you’re okay with that?”

“Of course, as long as you’re comfortable with the idea. Honestly, I’m willing to have it any way because we still have a very pressing problem,” Yoongi points to his crotch, “and honestly, I think Namjoon is too. There’s nothing more that can turn a man on other than a woman’s moans,” he shrugs.

You want to laugh at Yoongi being totally nonchalant about this whole situation, but if you’d listen to your gut feeling, you’re sensing it’s Yoongi’s outstanding self-control that has him so calm and collected about this proposal.

Once you tell your boyfriend of your approval, he calls Namjoon at once. When the younger man won’t budge, you look at Yoongi who just shakes his head at you with a playful smirk on his face. He points at you then back to Namjoon, gesturing you to do the talking.

You gulp before saying a short plea to the heavens above. Surely, they’re bound to hear you better since you’re already in the sky right? “Joonie, darling, it’s okay to look. We don’t mind.” You cringe at the tone of your voice, surprised at how convincing you sounded while you were having an inner turmoil.

When you see Namjoon’s head raise a little, you subconsciously bite your lip in anticipation. Wanting nothing more than to see what he has to say about this. Yoongi probably senses his hesitation so he starts to speak, “It’s okay, she’s covered with a blanket.”

“But you’re not!” Yoongi juts his head forward, a grim look on his face. “As if you haven’t seen me naked before!”

“That’s different! T-This is a completely different situation.”

“Listen to me you kinky ass motherfucker, I just know you’re hard. I am too, and you know damn well it’s painful and uncomfortable. So, unless you want me to fuck her while you’re watching or pretending to be asleep, I suggest you take your clothes off and come here.”

“Are you both sure you’re okay with this?”

“Didn’t you just hear our conversation a while ago? I mean your bed is just a meter away.”

“I know, I heard,” Namjoon says, hands already at the hem of his hoodie, then instantaneously looks at the older one dead in the eye, “But, hyung, did you really have to call me out like that?! The whole crush thing and the wallpaper - jeez!”

Namjoon takes his phone out of his hoodie first, placing it by the window, then removing the rest of the clothes he has on quickly under your heated gaze.

“Try having a conversation while you’re hard,” Yoongi mutters, rolling his eyes. Yoongi scoots closer to you when Namjoon moves forward, standing with only his boxers left on. Your mouth waters at the outline of his straining bulge while Yoongi clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Why don't you show your Joonie what that mouth can do?”

The tall man makes a sound between a cough and a groan, and you lie on your stomach, crawling a little bit closer to come face to face with Namjoon’s crotch. You just know he’s longer than Yoongi judging from what you’re seeing, but Yoongi’s definitely girthier and fuck - the thought alone is enough for you to come undone, completely untouched.

Namjoon shivers lightly when you trace a finger along the length of his boner, placing a light kiss atop his cloth boxers. Impatiently, you hook a finger on the waistband of his Versace boxers. Holy fuck - you send another prayer to their hard stans, wishing them an equally intense life inside the bedroom.

His cock springs free, and you scoot closer, wanting to have a better look at his pretty dick. You get into action quickly, hand wrapping around the base of his cock. You place a kiss on the leaking head, before licking a wet stripe along the length of his shaft.

You get more confident when Namjoon inhales sharply at the simple action. A few more licks and you decide to finally take him in his mouth, gradually moving lower until you have at least a third of him in your mouth. Namjoon sighs, fingers carding through your hair as you pull your mouth off him with a pop. Once more, you sink down, shallow and easy as you tease the younger man.

The grip on your hair eventually tightens, goading you on and encouraging you to go deeper. Namjoon becomes more vocal when you pick up the pace, and when you go down all the way to the hilt, you pause for a moment, then swallow. “Holy fuck!” Namjoon cries out, head lolling backwards in pleasure. “God, I wish I had a girlfriend too.” Yoongi chuckles from behind you and you almost forgot he was there too with Namjoon’s pretty length keeping you preoccupied.

Yoongi praises you and calls you a good girl. Beaming at your boyfriend, he tells you to continue giving Namjoon the blow of his life. Under Yoongi’s compliments, you work harder, ignoring the slight burn in your jaw. Namjoon starts bucking his hips, desperately chasing his high in your mouth. As you feel that coil slowly forming in the pit of your stomach, you gather some of the blankets between your thighs, bunching them up against your cunt so you have something to shamelessly grind your folds with.

Namjoon’s breathing gets strained, and you feel a tap on your leg, causing you to momentarily stop with Namjoon. Yoongi says nothing as he tells you to flip over. Settling your weight on your elbows, you watch Yoongi hand Namjoon a silver packet. “You really think you won’t get caught wetting the sheets babe? You’re not the only who gets to have fun here.”

He peppers a few kisses on your things before placing a hand between, spreading your legs open. “What are you waiting for, princess? Wanna leave Namjoon hanging just like that?” Unsure of what he has in mind, Namjoon helps you guide his shaft back to your mouth. As Namjoon returns to a rhythmic pace inside your mouth, you feel Yoongi settling himself between your legs. Good lord, was this really about to happen?

Your back arches when Yoongi starts with light vertical licks from the bottom to top. You feel his hand trail upwards, gently caressing your breasts. You’re mewling by the time Namjoon increases his pace, and Yoongi starts and toying with your clit mercilessly.

The feeling gets too much when Yoongi sucks on your nether bud, then proceeds to tease your rim a little, using your essence to slowly ease a ringed finger inside your hole. Namjoon hisses with your every moan, the vibrations coming from your throat an added blessing to having fucked your mouth.

From your view, you see Namjoon’s balls tighten and seconds later thick ropes of cum slide down your throat and you swallow before pulling back and licking your lips. Not wanting to be left out of the fun, Yoongi, once more, asserts his dominance, ordering you to get on your knees.

You feel your heart hammering against your ribcage in exhilaration, secretly hoping that this will finally be the day your deepest fantasies will come to life. Yoongi scoots over a little to lie horizontally on the bed. He calls you over, index finger curved like a hook to beckon you to ride him.

You move over to him in shaky legs, hooking a leg over his body to straddle his hips. “No, no, not facing me…” Yoongi waves his hand as he helps you up. “Facing him,” your boyfriend points to Namjoon whose mouth falls open in shock. Yoongi rips a packet open and rolls a condom onto his shaft.

“Hyung…” This was plain torture.

“I thought this was supposed to be an early birthday present for me?” Namjoon mumbles, scratching his neck with the small silver packaging between his fingers. “I know. But great things never came easy right?” Namjoon visibly deflates at the older rapper’s words. He had a point yes, but some points weren’t supposed to be applicable to all fields of life…

Not wanting to prolong your waiting any longer, you lower yourself onto Yoongi’s cock, inch by inch until he’s fully seated inside your warm, velvety walls. Your head falls back at the feeling of his cock inside you. Every time feels like the first.

Once you feel you’ve adjusted enough to Yoongi, you stabilize yourself on Yoongi’s thighs, sliding up until it’s only his head left inside before sliding back down. Your thighs get tired after a while, and Yoongi helps you by gripping your hips and thrusting upwards. As you move up and down and grind back and forth in circles, Yoongi calls Namjoon over just before you reach another climax.

“It’s about time you join the fun here, no? Joonie?” Yoongi playfully mocks the taller man, using your nickname for Namjoon to rile him up even further. You whine when Yoongi pulls out for a moment, closing your eyes as he places a quick kiss on your shoulder

You hear the ripping of a packaging and as you open your eyes, you see Namjoon near you until his thighs are hitting the edge of the bed. You let out a wanton moan when you feel Yoongi prodding his cock against your other hole, shallowly dipping the head in then pulling out. He repeats the action until he deems you’re ready, the slowly lowers you down onto his length.

“Namjoon…” Yoongi says breathily, having difficulty with his self-control with your rim having a vice-like grip on his cock. The other man in front of you doesn’t need to be told twice, slapping his dick against your folds. The action sends lewd sounds resonating throughout the small room, which only sends a jolt of pleasure down your spine.

Namjoon rests one of his knees on the bed, lowering himself onto your cunt. “Noona, you’re so wet. Fuck… I could just…” Namjoon finally pushes himself inside, “easily slide right in…” he lets out a deep exhale once he’s balls deep inside you.

You’re not doing any better than any of the men, thinking you could just orgasm from the fullness alone. And much to your surprise, you do. And both men keep their hands on you as you tremble like a falling leaf in autumn. “Holy shit!” Namjoon explains, staring at you with his mouth open. Once you stop quivering, they both ask you if you were still okay, and you take a breather before answering them, “I’m good. Just… nothing great ever came easy, right?”

You can practically feel Yoongi smiling from behind you. “That’s my girl.”

“Can I?” Namjoon asks, looking down to where your bodies are connected. You nod once, and Namjoon and your boyfriend start thrusting into you alternately. It doesn’t take long before you reach your climax again, with a ton of help from Namjoon who toys with your clit while snapping his hips into you.

They reach their orgasms not long afterwards. You let them ride out their highs until their cocks gradually turn softer inside you. Feeling spent and immensely satiated, you fall over to Yoongi’s side, falling asleep in mere seconds.

The two rappers collapse onto the bed, but sit abruptly sit upright when they hear a very familiar voice coming from Namjoon’s phone. “Fucking hell! That was the hottest shit ever!” Hoseok exclaims from the screen.

“You called him?!” Yoongi asks, hitting Namjoon’s forearm. “No! I- I must’ve contacted him while I put my phone there…crap.” Namjoon looked completely bewildered.

“Hyung, can I come to Amsterdam too? Please?!”

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