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imaginativeamateur · 3 years ago

Note

HEY!!!! I read your kakashi x reader in which kakshi takes care of tired reader and it was *chef’s kiss* so i was thinking if you could a kakashi x reader in which the reader gets poisoned during a mission. They get a small scratch so it does not work quickly. So when they get home, they start to feel a bit dizzy and then start coughing up blood LOTS of blood ( if you don’t mind). So kakashi gets worried and takes them to the hospital. When they get there tsunade tells them it is a rare type of poison so they will need a day or two to make the antidote. So the reader is in pain and coughing up blood. Kakashi tries their best to comfort them. Sorry it is long. Feel free to ignore it. Sorry for bad english. THANK YOU ✨

[Kakashi Hatake X Reader] Unbearable

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x gn!Reader

Note: Firstly, I'm glad that you like that piece, anon:D and your idea is fantastic!!! Okay, this one is a bit longer than what I usually write for, probably around 2,000 words. It's a mix of angst and fluff, the ending is fluffy though. And I didn't know what to name this one either:D Without further ado, please enjoy!

You pushed the door open, exclaiming happily when you finally got to sniff the familiar scent of his signature dishes, “I’m home, Kakashi!”

“How was your mission, love?” Wiping his palms on a handkerchief, he lifted his eyes from the pan to quickly examine if you had any injuries.

“Absolutely successful! We captured and brought the rebels back for investigation. My captain will be reporting it to the Hokage so I’m off for now!” You made your way next to him in the kitchen, pulling off your gloves in the process, “What are you making?”

Kakashi went off talking about the dishes he was preparing for your dinner but your mind turned fuzzy in the middle of his sentence. You lost your balance and tumbled backward as your sight blurred, not able to see anything clearly. With his quick reflex, the Copy Ninja caught you by your forearm and guided you to the floor, constantly asking if you were okay. Kakashi’s visible eye widened, brows furrowing as his hands roamed to search for any injuries that his eyes did not catch. You had no fatal wounds except for several scratches here and there, and he could sense your depleted chakra level. Lifting your body up in his arms, he whispered as he carried you to your shared bedroom, “You probably overused your chakra again. You should be back to normal tomorrow after a good rest.”

You sprawled tiredly in your bed, having no appetite for a meal and Kakashi respected it, he knew when it came to reviving a Ninja’s chakra, nothing would be able to beat some decent sleep. He let you stay by yourself for a few hours and went to finish his reports, returning to check on you once in a while. When he was finally done with work, Kakashi quietly slipped under the blanket on his side of the bed, carefully scooted closer to your warmth, hugged you close, and peacefully closed his eyes. In the middle of the night, you were woken up by the burning sensation that coursed through your entire body and a terrible headache, having just enough time to flip onto your side in case you would vomit right then and there. And you suddenly coughed, your throat was torn when the crimson liquid spattered onto the white tiles, bled your shirt, and dripped down from your chin. Being a light sleeper, the silver-haired immediately shot up from his pillow, switched the lights on, and scrambled down to the ground. You were trembling for the time being, and within a split second, Kakashi scooped your motionless body in his arms, rushing for the hospital.

He knew for sure that you were poisoned given the symptoms that were starting to surface. The hospital workers were greatly intimidated by the threatening aura that he sent, still hugging you tight as he brought you to the operation room himself. You continued to cough in his arms, and he did not mind his turtleneck being covered entirely by your blood. Tsunade arrived with a hurried disposition, and Sakura followed close behind her lead. Kakashi immediately reported your condition to the Fifth Hokage, grimacing when he saw blood pooling on the hospital bed as the Medic’s chakra slowly entered your body. He fought to retain himself—to not sprint to your side and cradle you tight, to not bring his hand up and wipe the blood staining the corner of your lips. It was all too much to him to see you panting in agony—

“Sakura,” the blonde Medic commanded, “set up for poison extraction. Get three more people.”

The pink-haired left the room after her teacher’s assignment, fleeting on her feet when she saw your tightly shut eyes and Kakashi’s scary expression as though he was going to burn the place down. Tsunade turned to the Copy Ninja, who was leaning against the wall with a visible eye that settled a tone darker, and called, “Kakashi, I need you to hold Y/N down when I extract the poison.”

He shuddered, unsure if he would still be able to maintain the last bit of composure left. The silver-haired found it impossible to remain himself when came to your safety, but he padded to your side, shaking hands reaching out to the pale face of yours. The Godaime assured him that everything would be okay and the man took a deep breath, moving his palms to rest on both of your shoulders as the rest of the team arrived, getting to work the second they passed the door. Kakashi held onto your upper body and arms, pinning you down onto the bed when the blonde started to focus chakra on her hands. “It’ll hurt, make sure Y/N stays still,” she said before the glowing green entered your body.

Kakashi could feel his sweats running cold against his temple, his uncovered eye fixed on Tsunade's hands, periodically glancing back at your face to make sure that you were fine. His grip on your wrists was tight but not bruising, fearing that it would add to the pain that you were already enduring from the poison. The Copy Ninja had his other forearm across your shoulder blades, pressing your torso in place as the Medic worked diligently. It hurt and you yelped, shrieking from the pure pain every time her chakra seeped inside. Kakashi was restless, biting on his own lips to halt himself from releasing his grasp and hug you tight. Your eyes turned dull when Tsunade finally got the last bit of poison out of your system, heavily placing your head back onto the damp pillow as the silver-haired wiped the sweats on your forehead. When all of you thought it was over, things took a different turn—for worse.

Pain suddenly shot through your body, and you started to cough more vigorously than earlier, blood covered the white sheets of the hospital bed. The whole room turned their attention back on your figure, your eyelashes fluttered, wincing when you felt the tiniest bits of your muscles being squeezed and ripped apart. Kakashi stepped back when he looked at his hands smeared by your blood, and grimaced, “… Didn’t you get the poison out already?”

The Medic furrowed her brows, examining the extract she got in a test tube, “It’s my first time seeing this type.”

Kakashi went feral, “How long?”

The sounds of your coughs filled the quiet atmosphere of the operation room. Every ticking of the clock seemed too audibly loud each passing second the blonde observed the Copy Ninja’s face. She eventually sighed and turned to the exit, “I’m not sure. It will take a while for us to create the antidote.”

“You can’t leave Y/N suffering like this, Lady Tsunade,” he breathed out laboriously, “I can’t.”

Kakashi’s words left his lips like a desperate plea as he stared at the ground. Tsunade shut her eyes to summon enough vigor to walk out of the room. Sakura hesitantly left shortly after, silently closing the door after sending her former sensei a sympathetic look. With shaking legs that were almost unable to hold him up, the silver-haired made his way to a chair beside your bed, tracing his thumb across your lips to wipe the bloodstain away. As a Shinobi, he was too accustomed to seeing open wounds and deep gashes—too familiar with his body covered in blood after a mission, especially when he got injured. But seeing you in this state made him crumble in dejection and turmoil.

“Kakashi,” your inaudible whisper pulled him out of his deep thoughts, “what if I…”

Before you were able to finish your sentence, Kakashi hushed you with a sign as he pulled the blanket up to your chest, “Don’t say anything, love. I’m not going to let you…” And he trailed off, finding it hardly possible to continue what he was saying. You were still in pain, forehead scrunched up to restrain the groans from eliciting, tight fists hidden under the cover because you did not want him to be more distressed than he already was. Kakashi slouched his back, head dropping into his palms, cursing under his breath, “I should’ve come with you, should’ve been more careful, should’ve gotten you to the hospital sooner. I-I’m sorry, Y/N… Please, please just be okay.”

His words fell apart, slipping past his lips muffled and croaked. It had been a long while since he last felt the wet droplets tittering on the edge of his lash line—range and misery boiled in his veins as he swore to himself this would be the last time he would see you like this for as long as he was alive. He did not dare to look at you, not when he had to helplessly witness his dearest person suffering. Your breathing decelerated, the sweats beading your hairline and neck had long evaporated, and you fell asleep between his soft whispers, exhausted and drained.

Every hour passed with dread for everyone. Each time Tsunade came back to check on you set up a thin wall of hope but it all shattered shortly when she shook her head and withdrew out of the room. You were coughing less, but that did not ease the Copy Ninja because you were shriveling impossibly lifeless. You could not swallow whatever food they supplied, only able to intake water and intravenous fluid. It was after lunch when Tsunade knocked on the door—two days since you were brought to the hospital, one day since you went unconscious—and Kakashi went to slide it open for her. No longer displayed a hopeful expression, he could not bear the disappointment and emptiness from the Medic’s shake of her head. But this time, Tsunade came with good news.

“We found the antidote.”

A single sentence from the blonde levitated the somber atmosphere that was clouding Kakashi’s mind. A contented smile found its way across his lips—though covered by the mask, Tsunade could clearly see his pupil dilating and the furrow between his brows starting to slowly vanish. With a quick move, she injected the solution into your arm with Kakashi watching closely, not letting any details went unnoticed.

“The fever should be gone after lunch, I’m not quite sure when Y/N will wake up though. That depends on an individual’s ability to recover.” She stated, “You two take care.”

The silver-haired thanked the Godaime and shut the door after she had left for several seconds. Then, he went back for a quick shower—the last thing he wanted was you worrying for his enervated appearance after two days without rest—not forgetting to plant a kiss on your forehead before leaving. When he returned, Kakashi brought a basket of fresh fruits with him, carefully peeling oranges and placing them on a plate for you in advance. He even went as far as bringing your pillow because you would be staying for another few days, and he wanted to make you feel comfortable. After checking over everything, he leaned his head back and closed his eye, stealing a quick nap with your hand in his—so he would know when you wake up.

The moment your eyes fluttered open, you quickly scanned the room, and your gaze settled on the very Hatake sleeping peacefully, then to his fingers intertwining yours. You let out a soft breath, “Thank you, Kakashi.”

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

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @thenightfallingstar @iam-gaaras-loveintrest @animepickle7

#kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi imagines #kakashi hatake x you #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi fluff #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake #kakashi angst

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griffintail · 4 years ago

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Here’s some sad juice lmao. So fundy ends up having to raise his kid sister that ghostbur adopted because Wilbur was revived and dosent have ghostburs memories

His Sister’s Keeper

Pairings: Fundy x Sister! Child! Reader

Past Ghostbur x Child! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of resurrection, Mentions of Death, Mild Angst

A/N: There’s references to Lost Ones but this is not Lost Ones storyline.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phil had been successful, after many trials and finally, with no errors, he managed to bring Ghostbur back as Wilbur. When Phil was confident, fully confident, Ghostbur promised his little girl he’d be back to take care of his little blue. The ten-year-old had sat on the stairs at Techno’s house, humming to herself as Fundy paced and Friend grazed on some of the grass that managed to live close-by when the door opened and Phil was grinning widely.

“It really worked…?” Fundy asked.

“Yes, Wilbur’s back. He just woke up and getting used to…living again. But, you two can come in.”

“Can Friend come? He misses daddy too.” (Y/N) stood up.

Phil chuckled lightly. “Maybe later, come on.”

(Y/N) gave a small pout before smiling again as she bounced slightly as she followed behind Fundy. Wilbur was stretching his arm out, getting used to the feeling of having a full form again, as the group walked in. He looked, grinning when he saw Fundy.

“Fundy, my little champion.” Wilbur spread his arms.

Fundy’s ears flattened but he gave a laugh as he smiled. “Hey, dad.”

“You’ve grown quite a bit, haven’t you?” Wilbur came over, putting a hand on Fundy’s shoulder. “It’s been, how long you said Phil?”

“Little over ten years.”

“That seems short.” He muttered to himself before spotting the child tilting their head as they looked at the man before her. “And did you have a child?!”

That’s when a heavyweight settled on Fundy and Phil as they shared a shocked look. No one considered if Wilbur would remember…

“I uh…no dad that’s…” Fundy put a hand on his head.

“You like a lot like my daddy, but he’s see-through.” (Y/N) piped up now. “My name’s (Y/N), what’s your name?”

Wilbur frowned, looking at Phil. “Wait, is she saying…?”

“Ghostbur took her in,” Phil told him. “I-I thought you’d have his memories.”

“Hey…(Y/N), let’s go outside,” Fundy muttered to her.

“Oh…but where’s daddy?” She asked him.

“I…uh…I’ll tell you in a minute,” Fundy told her, showing her out. “Let’s go play with Friend.”

“Friend loves to play!” She grinned before running to play with blue sheep, Fundy staying at the front door to watch her and listen to the conversation.

“He took in a child?!” Wilbur exclaimed.

“She was in a bad spot Wilbur. I’m sure even you would have done the same.”

“At the time, maybe but now things need to be done, Phil! I need to be stronger, that’s why Casper wanted to be back right? I can’t do that while taking care of a child! I don’t even know her!”

“Wilbur.” Phil tried to change his mind. “She’d not like other children, she’d going to need her father.”

“You know her, you take care of her.”

“Wilbur!”

Fundy heard enough. He was fuming to himself. Even after being resurrected, still the same old dad. Fine, if the bastard wasn’t going to take care of her…

“(Y/N), why don’t you and Friend come with me to my house?” He smiled gently at her as he came over.

“But what about daddy? He said he’d be right back.”

Fundy folded his ears back before crouching in front of her. “(Y/N), you know the man inside?”

She nodded.

“And you know how Ghostbur would talk about Alivebur?”

“Yes, he talked about how he made L’Manberg a lot.” She smiled.

“…Well, that is Alivebur, his real name is Wilbur. Which, was also Ghostbur’s name.”

“I’m confused.” She muttered.

“Ghostbur was Wilbur’s ghost and Phil brought Wilbur back. Which means, he put Ghostbur back into him.”

“Then…Where’s daddy?” The little girl mumbled, scrunching up her eyebrows in confusion.

“Wilbur is your dad but…he doesn’t remember…”

“Oh, does he need some blue?” She asked.

“No, I—” Fundy groaned into his hands before looking at her. “Ghostbur isn’t coming back (Y/N). Wilbur is Ghostbur and he can’t remember anything about being a ghost.”

The poor girl was confused. How did her father forget her? He did forget a lot of things but he never forgot her! She was little blue. He also promised that he’d be right back.

“He’ll come back though, he promised he would.” She wrung her hands together, the sheep nudging her side. “Friend and I are here! He wouldn’t leave us…”

Fundy sighed now, seeing her panic. “He thought Wilbur would remember, but that’s not the case. So, I think it’s best if you come with me. Alright? Maybe until Wilbur remembers!”

He was lying through his teeth with the last sentence but he needed to say something. Anything to get her to come with him. That perked the little girl up before she nodded.

“Ok. I’m sure he’ll remember. Maybe he just needs some blue.” She reasoned, before hugging the blue sheep. “We’re going with Fundy, Friend! You’ll like his house, there’s lots of grass.”

Fundy didn’t know what he was in for, but he’d make sure she was alright. Especially if Wilbur didn’t give a damn about the poor child, he had called sister the past few years.

…

Fundy was not ready for how much energy the ten-year-old had. Phil knew that Fundy had taken the child and told him that Wilbur did indeed not place a current care on her. He offered Fundy help if he ever needed it and Fundy was sure he’d be fine because she shouldn’t be too bad, she’s Ghostbur’s kid.

He was wrong.

She was all over the place, running around or dancing as she giggled. She liked to spend a lot of time with the blue sheep and that was Fundy’s biggest assurance. If he needed to know where she was, look for the one blue sheep. When it came time to sleep came as well, she was extremely difficult about sleeping.

He had woken up groggily in the middle of the night and she was standing there, hugging the fox plushy Ghostbur had given her forever ago.

“I can’t sleep.” She muttered.

“What do you need me to do?” Fundy yawned.

“Can I sleep with you? I always slept with daddy.”

Fundy’s ears folded back at the sad thought but he nodded, letting her into his bed. She cuddled against him and before he knew it, she was asleep. He tried other ways to get her to sleep, but every night, he was back in the same spot. She cuddled into him and she was out like a light and stayed like that as long as he kept her there.

Her naivety also was problematic too.

“Fundy! Look at the salmon!” She giggled as she leaned over the pier at the lake Fundy had taken her to, to catch some fish.

He looked over and yelped, dashing over and catching her before she fell into the lake.

“Wow, you’re fast Fundy.” She smiled as he folded his ears back with a frown.

He was working the hardest with that.

“Don’t. Wander off.” Fundy grabbed her hand with practiced ease as she got distracted on a simple walk to Church Prime.

He wasn’t prepared for any of it. But, day by day, he learned the ins and outs of taking care of her. She would…sometimes ask if Wilbur remembered her and every time, he lied to her…but he was scared about how the girl would react knowing that Ghostbur would truly never come back.

Today was a good day though, (Y/N) had stayed by his side and was talking to him about a book he had given her to read in order to calm her a bit. They were walking to Church Prime once again together when Fundy saw Wilbur walking down the path towards them. Fundy’s ears pointed back as he carefully took (Y/N)’s hand, pulling her closer to him. She barely noticed, just enjoying the warmth of his hand as she continued on.

“Fundy, and…(Y/N) right?” Wilbur asked as he stopped in front of the two.

“Yes sir!” She smiled widely. “You remember me?”

“I remember you from Techno’s house, yes.” Wilbur nodded.

“Oh.” She gave a small pout before smiling again, Wilbur raising an eyebrow.

“Good talk, come on—” Fundy went to lightly pull the girl forward when Wilbur spoke.

“So, you’re taking care of her?” Wilbur questioned his son.

“Yeah, no one else would.” Fundy huffed. “She’s my sister anyways.”

“Fundy’s the best brother.” (Y/N) nodded.

“She’s not really your sister, Fundy. You could have left her with Phil.” Wilbur told him, (Y/N) turning confused.

Fundy gripped her hand tighter. “No, she’s my sister. And right now, we’re going to church for the day.”

“She’s not my child so she’s not—”

“She was!” Fundy snapped, pulling (Y/N) behind him. “Just because you’re a bastard and refuse to know her, doesn’t mean she wasn’t yours! You could have easily done it! I didn’t know her and now I know how to take care of her just fine! And want to know why I did? Because she’s my fucking sister, whether you like it or not. I don’t care if you remember and probably never will. She’s my sister. So, leave it the hell alone.”

With that, Fundy pulled (Y/N) along. He didn’t look at the girl for some time as they made their way to the church, but he did when he felt something go into his hand and his anger faded. Looking, he saw (Y/N) had slipped a piece of blue into his free hand and she was holding her own.

Stopping his walk, he crouched in front of her.

“Are you ok?” He asked her gently.

“It was a bit scary that you yelled.” She muttered, looking at the blue in her hands. “But the blue is helping.”

“Ok, well, you don’t need to use blue all the time ok? I’m here to talk to and you can talk to me about anything because I’m going to always be here to take care of you, alright little sis?”

She paused before nodding, smiling at him. “Ok. He remembered my name, so hopefully, he’ll remember more soon.”

Fundy sighed in his head but he put a smile on his face, nodding.

“I’m sure. Come on, let’s go to Church Prime, and then maybe we’ll go home and take Friend on a walk.”

She gasped excitedly as she nodded.

He’d make sure she was always happy because he was now his sister’s keeper and he couldn’t imagine her any other way.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #fundy x reader #ghostbur x reader #dreamsmp x reader

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gotnofucks · 4 years ago

Text

Lover’s Quarrel

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Summary: You have the powers to resurrect if you’ve been murdered, and a jealous Steve Rogers indulges heavily in your abilities. He would not let you steal his best friend, that was for sure. So what, if your rivalry regularly caused fire and harm to public property? You just couldn’t let the other win.

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Smut, enemies to lovers, violence, killings and murders (but reader cannot die, it’s weird. She has some sorta powers that help her revive when she’s been murdered), language, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Is this crack fic? Idk. Maybe?

The sixth time Steve killed you, you decided he needed to be dealt with in a similar way. It doesn’t matter that he cannot come back from the dead like you. He just needed to go. You were tired of him offing you every time he felt threatened by your existence. But this was the last straw. He had pushed you off the Quinjet while flying home from a mission and you’d fallen into the lake and drowned. You would NOT recommend dying that way.

Bucky had dragged out your dead body and watched over you as the blessing of the necromancer worked its magic over you and brought you back to the world of the living. The first words out of your mouth as you spewed out water were, “I am going to kill your best friend and you can’t be mad at me for that.”

Bucky, far too happy to have you back – poor guy still mourned every time you died – ignored your comment and pulled you into a hug. He’d never quiet gotten used to seeing you die. You patted his back, muttering a few there-there’s until he was calm enough to press quivering kisses on your head and temple.

“You need to stop dying.” He said into your hair, holding you close.

“I would not be dying if your best friend didn’t murder me every time! He is a menace, Buck!” You cried in exasperation. The said best friend was watching you from a few yards away, and he rolled his eyes as your words reached him. He scoffed loud enough for you to hear and you sharply turned your head to glare at him.

“You!” You shouted, quickly standing up and marching over to him. “You rascal!” And then you pried out your wet shoe from your feet and threw it at his stunned face. Unfortunately, it didn’t hit his face but smacked against his chest, leaving the wet print of your soles against his far too tight t-shirt. He gaped at you open mouthed before baring his teeth in warning.

“Oh god, every time you come alive again, you’re even more awful than before!” Steve shouted, and then just because he is fucking drama queen, he threw out his hands. You sneered before turning to look at Bucky meaningfully, the most obvious ‘see what a dick he is’ look on your face.

Bucky shuffled uneasily, caught between your quarrel once again. He came behind you and gave you his jacket to wear to shield you from the cold. And just like that, your anger melted a little. Somehow, with his steel blue eyes, Bucky Barnes could sooth every wound you’d ever had. Even those given to you by Steve Rogers.

“I am so sorry. I should have seen what he was about to do. I wouldn’t have ever let you fall had I known.” He apologized and you swore your heart physically quivered. You pulled Bucky into a hug, hiding your face in his chest, savoring his arms coming around you to hold you tighter. You could have stayed in his embrace forever, but it was an annoyed groan that ripped you both apart.

“Is there any way you can stay dead a little longer?” Steve asked, breaking your moment. “I mean, I’ve tired a bullet and knife and water and poison. What can I do that you’d be gone for just a little longer?”

He was worked up, a red flush creeping on his face and neck. Pacing, he was muttering, and you wondered for the millionth time how Bucky could be friends with him. He was just so extra! You wanted to tell him to shove a stick up his ass, along with the one already there when he turned swiftly like the wind and threw a dagger at you. A metal hand caught it before it could hit you and you were pulled into the warmth of Bucky’s body quickly.

“Steve! Cut it out.” Bucky yelled, glaring at Steve. “You will not kill her again. I don’t care if she can come back alive again. You won’t hurt her.”

With that, he dropped the dagger on the ground and walked away with you. Unable to resist, you looked over you shoulder and flipped Steve off. Fucker could kill you a hundred times and yet he would not be able to do anything. As far as you were concerned, Bucky was as much your best friend as his. And if Steve Rogers couldn’t control his jealousy without trying to behead you every time he felt you were stealing Bucky from him, you would just have to make his death look like an accident.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that you can’t kill him either?” Bucky said teasingly, his eyes soft and fond. “I need you both to survive.”

You groaned, bumping your shoulder in his and snuggling into him as a cold breeze hit your wet clothes. He could read you like an open book.

“You are no fun Barnes.”

There was rubble and fires and shrieks. Natasha was yelling in Russian as she ran about with a fire extinguisher and Clint crawled out of his vents to help Bruce out who was turning a dangerous shade of green. Tony was sitting in the ruins of his kitchen, his mouth half open as he spied on the ensuing battle in the middle of it.

Sam was using his shield to push Steve away who was shouting curses that had probably not been invented yet. Bucky was holding you back by your middle, yelling in your ear to calm the fuck down but all you could think of to do was smacking Steve’s face with that chair that was currently on fire. You suppose once everyone was calm, you’d feel guilty about your part in destroying the Avengers kitchen but right now that wasn’t important.

What was important was that Steve had tried to kill you. Again. He had actually thrown a fucking grenade at you. You barely had the time to kick it away where it exploded in the kitchen and then Steve was on you, calling you a bitch in all the 9 languages he knew.

“Calm the hell down, Steve!” Sam yelled, struggling to keep Steve at bay from you. You were glad to see that Steve’s nose was busted. That will teach the bastard to ‘look down his nose’ on you now.

“She pierced my ears! The fucking bitch pierced my goddamn ears!” Steve yelled. Even you had to admit, the golden hoops looked amazing dangling from his ears. Just perfect.

“You are lucky I didn’t stick a knitting needle in your eye Rogers!” You sassily replied, “The only reason you’re still in one piece is because I promised my best friend that I wouldn’t hurt you.”

The muscles in Steve’s arms tensed and Sam groaned, barely keeping his own footing. A dark shadow seemed to have crawled over Steve’s face, turning the blues of his eyes an angry shade and had you been a weaker person, you would have trembled. This was the face of someone who had stood against armies alone and came out victorious. But for all you cared, he could kiss your ass.

“He is MY best friend. Mine. Not yours, not anyone else’s. Bucky Barnes is mine and I will kill you a thousand times until it sinks in your thick skull!” Steve growled. You scowled, a scathy remark bubbling on the tip of your tongue when you suddenly stopped. Why say when you can show? So, looking Steve directly in the eyes, you went limp in Bucky’s arms, turned around and cupped his face. And then you kissed his cheek.

Steve let out a strangled cry behind you, but you focused on Bucky who was blinking in disbelief at your audacity. And so, just for the heck of it, you kissed his other cheek. And then his forehead.

“Bucky Barnes, you are my best friend and always will be!” You said, hugging the life out of him. You heard Steve break away from Sam, heard Bucky yell out a curse and holding you protectively as his jealous pal came rushing to claim him. And all through that and the chaos that ensued later, you just smiled broadly.

Tony was giving a lecture, and he sucked. He gesticulated too much for your liking, and you really didn’t like how he kept emphasizing things by looking pointedly at you. It wasn’t even that much of a big deal, and even if it was, it was not your fault. Like every other time, the only person who could be held responsible was the blond super soldier sitting beside you, wearing the same shade of annoyance on his face as yours.

“I repeat” said Tony, his hair askew, “we do not use Friday to settle idiotic, absolutely ridiculous personal vendettas!”

“You have Friday tell you how pretty you look every day!” You countered and Tony slammed his hand on the table.

“Because I am!” He huffed. “You, on the other hand, stopped a mission in the middle to ask Friday who had a higher score! I mean, what the actual fuck? And what score?”

Steve had the decency to look at least a little sheepish. You however didn’t put up with any of that nonsense. It was his idea anyway, and you wouldn’t take the fall for him. Not when Tony looked murderous like this.

“Rogers bet me he’d take down more enemies than me. We only asked Friday to keep a count. I had literally nothing to do with it.”

Tony turned the ire of his glare at Steve who was too busy giving you a dirty look. He was just pissed you won, and that Bucky had spent the entire ride back tending to your wounds rather than Steve’s. It wasn’t your fault his jealous ass always threw a fit whenever he saw you and Bucky together.

“You said the team could use Friday as we saw fit.” Steve said, though he did look a little guilty. It wasn’t like him to lose command and control. Even when he’d been Captain America, he had never let anything rattle him. Not until you had come prancing in his life and stealing his best friend.

“I said the team could use Friday, not stop everything in the middle of a high risk mission to see who has a bigger dick.” Tony said, and then he just collapsed in his chair. Poor guy had been working too hard to carry the team forward, and in that moment, even you felt guilty. Your rivalry with Steve shouldn’t have to affect everyone else, not when they had been so welcoming and loving to you ever since you joined.

You walked over to Tony and dropped a kiss on his head, caressing his hair. “I am sorry Tones. You won’t have more trouble from me.”

Tony looked at you as if seeing an angel. He looked at you as if you were the solution to all his troubles. Despite every furniture of his you’d broken and set fire to, he was so grateful to have one sane voice between them. Cupping your hands, he looked imploringly at you and asked, “Really? You’re gonna stop fighting with Steve?”

At that, you solemnly nodded and patted his hand gently. Poor him and the poor team going through hell because you and Steve couldn’t settle your differences. It was obvious what had to be done.

“Of course I will” You said magnanimously, because of course you were the better of the two. “Steve just needs to find another best friend and there won’t be any reason to fight anymore.”

If any of them had been drinking water, they would have spit it out. Since they didn’t, they just kind of choked on their saliva and sputtered at you in absolute disbelief. Tony actually looked betrayed and Steve seemed to have licked a lemon, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

“She” He said, voice thick with contempt, “needs to go away. We can launch her in outer space or somewhere from where she can never return. You know why? Because Bucky is my best friend. Since we were yay high!” And he raised his arms a foot off the ground to show just how high.

And just like that, the moment was gone. Rogers opened his mouth and any goodwill you had had went poof. So, you did the only reasonable thing any sane person would do right now and that was to flip him off and call him a pig. You knew he was inching to strangle you; you could see his fingers twitch. A part of you was anticipating it, for Bucky would never forgive him for killing you again. Just as he would have lunged at you, push Tony out of the way and did you away for good, Bucky burst into the room with the expression of a cantankerous 100 year old grandpa who had had enough with the world.

“For fucks sake! Just shut up you both!” He yelled and paced the room. His eyes were bloodshot and hair disheveled, a clear sign that your rivalry was taking a heavy toll on him. Steve opened his mouth to say something when Bucky raised a finger to shush him. “No no no! You listen to me you oblivious, utter moronic fucklets!”

Your mouth dropped open. Bucky never cursed at you. He had never called you a fucklet before.

“You two need to stop. You hear me? You need to STOP!” He raked a hand through his hair before kicking the ground in frustration. “I can’t eat. I can’t sleep! I can’t fucking breathe without you both arguing over who is a better friend to me. So, here’s an idea. Instead of fucking me over in the middle of your sexual tension, why don’t you find a room and fuck each other? Because I tell you now, I cannot fucking take it!”

Silence sat pregnant in the room. You blinked at Bucky. Steve blinked at Bucky. Tony blinked at Bucky. And Bucky didn’t blink at all.

“That – uh – what?” You said, eloquent as ever. “That is so stupid.” And you laughed awkwardly.

Steve glanced at you and then stammered, “What? That – I haven’t – that has nothing to do with it. She and I – what?”

You both found each other’s eye, quickly looked away and just became silent. The tension in the air was suffocating you, and a terrible heat was settling in your stomach. Without another word, you walked out of the room, muttering about how ridiculous the whole idea was. The three men watched your exit, and a moment later, Steve left too, still very much in disbelief.

Tony and Bucky sighed, sitting across from each other and just taking in the fact that the elephant in the room had finally been address. A moment later, Tony began drumming on the desk, looking up at the ceiling.

“I couldn’t have put it any better myself.”

You felt antsy, as if staying one more moment in your room would drive you mad. You kept jerking your legs and arms, a weird restlessness in every action of yours. What the hell was Bucky saying? The sheer nerve to imply that you…you and Steve had some sort of feelings for each other. You hadn’t heard that kinda crap since you nursed your nephew who’d had diarrhea.

The only reason you and Steve fought was because you wanted Bucky. He was supposed to be your best friend, and clearly it was his inability to decide who he preferred more that had led you here. And to pretend, on top of that, that it was you who was at fault was just ridiculous. As if you’d touch Steve Rogers with a ten foot pole.

But…would you? You suppose he couldn��t be that bad to touch. He did have gorgeous eyes that got all dark and dilated when he fought with you. And his breath hitched when you got him mad and he bit his lip to stop from cursing you and he flushed a very becoming shade of red that started from his cheeks and disappeared down the neckline on his tight shirts that –

Holy fuck!

The realization rocked your world. What the hell? When you thought about it again, it seemed as if you’d just described Steve being aroused. Did you really fight him and got him mad to stimulate yourself? Oh god. Bucky was right. You wanted to fuck Steve.

This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all. You quickly changed into your work out gear and rushed to the gym, intent on sweating out whatever feelings you might have for Steve. After all, nothing says fuck you like imagining someone’s face on a punching bag and just going to town on it. Thankfully, when you arrived the gym was empty.

You’d been working on your stretches for only a few minutes when your worst nightmare entered the gym. He probably had the same idea as you and froze the moment your eyes met. His blue eyes narrowed at you and you stood up straight. You hated Bucky for putting the thought in your head. Now all you could think of was tackling Steve to the ground and fucking him senseless. You still wanted to beat him, but in a very different way.

As Steve entered, his eyes fixed to your form, you decided it was time to leave. After that fiasco in front of Tony, you didn’t think yourself capable of talking to Steve. Staying alone with him was something you didn’t trust yourself with. So you picked up your bag and started for the door when his voice stopped you.

“Running away? Am I to believe that there is something that finally scares you?”

Anger, red hot anger simmered under your veins when you turned to face him again. He had a mocking smirk on his face that made you grit your teeth. His eyes, dark and challenging beckoned you to him, but they didn’t hold resentment there either. Something between you had changed today. The very air around you was different, thick with tension and apprehension that had your nerves tingling.

“Scared?” You scoffed, dropping your bag on the matted floor and walking until you stood right before him. He towered over you in height, but he’d never been able to actually look down at you. “Me, scared of you? You wish Rogers.”

One corner of his lips lifted up, and he put his hands on you. One hand hooked around your waist and pulled you closer, the other trailing a finger down the side of your face to your neck, following the path down your arm until his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Oh, I so do wish” He whispered and his lips met yours. You rose up on your toes, mashing your body against his and mapping the planes of his body with your palms. The smell of his sweat and soap surrounded you, your arms coming to hold him around the shoulders as he hitched you up so you could wrap your legs around him.

Like everything in your relationship, the kiss was explosive. You didn’t melt against each other like people do in books; you collided like two warring armies intent on conquering the other. You collided like night and day, basking your surroundings in the dawn and dusk of your lust. Steve took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, smiling as you shamelessly moaned.

“What do you say?” He asked, pushing you against the wall, his hardness digging between the heated center of your legs.

You pulled him closer, letting your lips trail over his jaw and neck before you branded him with a quick bite. “You’ve always been so aggressive Steve, let’s see you let loose some other way. I sure do hope you fuck better than you fight though, or I’ll just be disappointed.”

Steve growled, kissing you again as he ground his cock against you, trapping you between the wall and his hard body that prevented any escape. Your hands slipped under his t-shirt, meeting the firm muscles on his abdomen that rippled under you. He pulled back just enough to allow you to remove your clothes, his own being flung sideways without any care.

Even before, you’d never thought of Steve as anything but beautiful, but now, seeing him in all his glory, you could only look him up and down in appreciation. He was trembling slightly, as if holding himself back with effort, his eyes not leaving you for a second. You both looked at each other, naked and unashamed before frantically coming together. His hands were everywhere, squeezing your ass and thighs as his lips pulled at your breast.

Your fingers rolled his nipples softly until he moaned, and then you pinched them. He jerked under your touch, kicking the back of your knees so you collapsed down, and he covered your body with his. Anger, arousal, lust and longing, all emotions built together in a storm of incoherent desire that had you both rolling over each other, fighting for dominance and power. Steve pinned you down with effort, holding your wrists in one hand over your head as he gave a smug smile to you.

“Will you finally surrender today?” He asked, positioning his cock at your entrance that was drenched. You would have loved to taste him, to have him taste you, but as of now, all you wanted was for him to slide inside you. You hungered for him, burnt for his touch. For years you’d been left wanting, and now with the prize so near, you weren’t about to wait any longer.

“The only surrender today will be yours.” You whispered sweetly before slamming your head against his. Steve jerked hard in surprise, allowing you the opportunity to free your hands and roll over him. You sat on his pelvis proudly, his throbbing member right underneath you and as he blinked at you, stunned, you rose up over his tip and slowly sunk down.

Steve groaned as your wet channel fell like velvet heat along his shaft. You had never been so full before. He stretched your limits, as he had always done, and you decided you very much preferred rendering him speechless like this under you than your usual punches and throws. His hands dug into your waist, helping you bounce on his cock and you threw your head back at the feeling.

It was a beautiful ache, one that took your breath away. As you rolled your hips and clenched down there, Steve’s voice rose in appreciation and you grinned. You finally had the golden boy at your mercy. You fucked him, changing your pace to punish him, never letting him up. For every time he killed you, you bit on his lips and neck, marking him. It was punishment and cherishing, a culmination of feelings you didn’t understand.

“Touch me.” You brokenly said, and his fingers found your nub. The slapping of skin, the sounds of debauchery and the smell of sin filled the air. You leaned over him to meet his lips, the heat in your gut bubbling until you snapped and came atop him, falling blissfully. It was one moment of weakness and the world titled, Steve having finally pushing you on your back.

“You’ve always been strong, because I’d hate to break you when the fun has only just begun.” He said and thrust into you hard and fast. He was an animal in heat, a man possessed, and you didn’t mind one bit. You met his every thrust with a raise of your hips, you clawed at his back until he bled, your lips tasting of the salt of sweat and tears and desire. He brought you impossibly closer, looking right into your eyes as he took you.

For the life of you, you couldn’t look away. You couldn’t get enough of his grunts and moans, of the breathy whispers of your name that slipped between curses, of the way his lashes would flutter over the dark blues that kept your eyes captive. He had you completely in that moment, mind and body; and for some reason, his gaze felt infinitely more intimate than his cock that was currently spearing you open. You keened in pleasure, whimpering as he touched your overly sensitive clit and had you coming again.

A minute later, he twitched inside you, his warmth flooding your core and you sighed. You laid entangled and sweaty, both of you spent and tired and yet completely overtaken by the urge to be closer still. To think this is what you’d both missed for all these years.

“So, what do you say, still feeling aggressive?” Steve asked and you looked at him with a grin that you couldn’t have suppressed had you wanted to. Oh yes, some battles were never meant to end, but they sure could be altered to meet new demands.

“With you? Always.” You replied, kissing him deep until he couldn’t think of anything but you. “Just remember one thing.”

“Oh yeah, what?”

“I am still a better best friend to Bucky. I did fuck you to keep him happy after all.”

Steve frowned darkly and before you could blink, he was over you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I think this time I’d fuck some manners into you.”

“I think this time you should actually put your back into it. I did all the work before.” You taunted and he dived at you.

Meanwhile, in Tony Stark’s office

“Friday, what’s the score?” He asked smugly, offering Bucky the packet of blueberries. Bucky was sitting with his feet on the desk, a small smile on his face.

“I am afraid I am not at a liberty to say Boss.” Friday replied. If the AI could blush, she would.

“Seems like they are at an impasse.” Tony suggested, and Bucky shrugged, licking his lips.

“Well, some things never change.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #bucky x reader #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #crack fic #i think lol

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alicee1 · 4 years ago

Text

Finally back

Revived! Wilbur x Reader

Warnings: talk of death, grieving, character death (Wilbur), reunion

Word count: 1.7K

Synopsis: After Wilbur got revived by Dream he first rushes off to find you, right in the place where you had spent the night before L’manburg got blown up together with you. Angst followed by fluff/comfort

Request:

what if revived wilbur returning to a (he/him or they/them) reader and the reader who was with wilbur the night before l'manberg went boom being like super over emotional and stuff because they hadnt seen their lover in a while and just good ole comfort coming out of the reunion :0 (please the wilbur revival has had me craving wilbur content </3)

A/n: Not gonna lie, this was really hard to write at first cause of the pure angst, but i figured out a way! I really hope you enjoy it and it was really fun to write actually. Thank you for requesting!

Rules, Masterlist

"I'll come back to you."

Maybe you had been a fool to believe his words. Both you and him knew the chance was small that he would come back unscathed yet in that moment, those promising words that left his mouth were all that mattered.

The night before the bombing of L'manburg you had spent together with Wilbur. It had been calm and comfortable, spending the night in each other's arms and reminiscencing past memories. Neither of you had spoken a word of what would happen the next day.

He had built a small cabin in the woods where he stayed with you, his little escape from the outside world and all the problems that came with it.

For a while you had seen Wilbur start to slip, his sanity slowly seeping away under the pressure and responsibilities he carried.

He didn't speak to you often about L'manburg and Pogtopia, wanting to keep you seperated from his work and worries.

You had been his escape.

No matter what had happened outside the walls of your small comfortable cabin, it was as if a switch was flicked as soon as he stepped inside.

Even if it was just for a moment, he could leave all his worries and problems behind and seek comfort in your arms.

You were his cliff against the stormy sea that were his thoughts and problems, an unrelenting barrier he could escape to.

But as the day crept nearer he had explained to you what his plan was, sitting down with you as he explained what could happen.

You had known where he was when you awoke to an empty bed that morning. His warmth lingered in the blankets and his scent in the air. Leaving behind his promise to return to you from the night before.

His words were believable, you truly believed he would return to you. For the past days he had made up his mind, through cracks you thought you could see glimpses of the Wilbur you had once known.

Nothing could have prepared you for the news that Phil brought with him.

It felt as if you were torn apart piece by piece before getting out back together, yet his death left a gaping hole behind.

You had etched his name into the large builder that laid in your back garden, without a body to bury it was the most you could do as memorial.

Desperately you had clung onto the traces that he had left behind in your cabin. The pack of cigarettes left on the table, his spare beanie that hung discarded on a chair. A small pile of crumpled up papers discarded as he attempted to write letters to his father.

He never send the majority of them. After everything had gone south and he had retreated to the woods and Pogtopia it just seemed like he couldnt keep up the lies anymore.

You never touched anything he held left behind, afraid it would get rid of his last traces in the cabin. The objects were cleaned often but other than that remained untouched.

It was a few months until a see through apparition had found its way to the small cabin. It was one of the first times you had left the comforting space after Wilbur's death only to be faced with someone, something, that looked so much like him.

It had made you curl up under the protective blankets of your bed as tears streamed down your face as you grieved.

Although it had taken a long time, you learned to move on. Despite that his last traces in the cabin stayed untouched, but you healed. Slowly, step by step, but it happened.

You returned to the way you lived before. Besides the crater in your heart that you weren't sure would ever heal, you picked up your activities one by one.

You started gathering wood again, hunting for meat and gardening in your back garden where you had started a small vegetable farm beside the memorial builder.

Each time you passed it you traced your hand over the stone, lingering for a few seconds as you remembered him before moving on with what you were doing. Although you would always make sure there was a small bouquet of fresh, hand picked, wild flower laid on the stone.

The apparition didn't appear again, making you believe you had imagined the entire ordeal in the first place.

The fireplace was lit again when you were at the cabin, the windows opened to let in fresh air. Due to the secluded nature of the woods you could easily leave the windows and doors open as you gathered for materials.

Wilbur hurried away from the crater where L'manburg once stood. He left Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo, who he had just met, behind there. Plans and ideas shot through his mind although he needed to figure something out first.

He reached the cabin in the woods, he didn't even have to think to remember the way, his body leading him down the path automatically despite it having been 13 years.

The small clearing was still exactly the same as he remembered, the cabin stood peacefully in the middle of it.

Wilbur could see a new vegetable garden beside it, surrounded my fences with lanterns attached to light it up in the dark.

The windows and doors stood open, making his entrance effortless as he entered.

The place still looked exactly the same, although he could see the small changes that had occured over time. But in general, it looked as if time had stopped flowing inside.

The pack of cigarettes laid unmoving on the bedside table that stood on his side of the bed. His spare beanie hung from the side of the clothing chair that stood in the same corner it had been in 13 years ago. The fireplace that always spread warmth and a soft golden glow when he returned to you was reduced to a smouldering pile of ashes, indicating you hadn't been gone for too long.

A small hand drawn map hung from the wall that hadn't been there before.

The only thing missing was you.

Today you had chosen to go fishing, something you had enjoyed doing before but a hobby you had left neglected for a long time.

The ripples in the water were calming as you breathed out, instantly you knew why you had always enjoyed it. There was something peaceful in watching the sun's reflexion in the small ripples the water created as the red and white striped ball floated gently along the stream.

You stayed by the river for most of the day, only returning at the end of the afternoon, satisfied with the catch of today.

As you returned home, you were caught of guard by the steady smoke that gently rose from the chimney. You could see it from a little distance away, making you question if you had checked that the fire had died before you left.

The sack you had stored the fish in hung from your hand as you gently opened the door with the other, the setting of the sun had allowed the fire to cast it's golden glow through the cabin.

That wasn't however what caught your attention. Instead the cloaked figure in the middle of the room did.

A dark cloak you could recognize between any other, paired with a beanie similar to the one you saw every day as it hung from, what had once been your shared, clothing chair. Underneath messy brown hair could be seen.

It was an appearance you could recognize in a heartbeat as tears gathered in your eyes, the sack slipping from your grasp as Wilbur turned around at the sound of the door opening.

He didn't say anything, just opened his arms invitingly as you stumbled forward, crashing into him and burying your head in his shoulder.

His hold on you was tight, he breathed in deeply through his nose, inhaling your scent as his arms squeezed harder around your form.

He had missed you so much. In those 13 years spent at the station, all he wanted was to see you one last time, to apologize for leaving you behind.

There had not been a single moment where he hadn’ t longed for your touch, for your presence, in comfort.

All that time he had thought he truly wanted to die, that this world wasn't for him. All that time you had been his deciding factor without even knowing.

But now that he had experienced it, was there and seen what it was like, he was sure of the truth, his truth.

Ha had a new lease on life and this time, he wouldn't throw it away. He had learned.

He melted into your touch as you leaned back, cupping his cheek and wiping away the stray tears he hadn't even realized that flew down his cheeks.

In your eyes he could still see the same love for him as he had seen that night. You still looked exactly like you then.

He pulled you closer, inhaling your scent as he realized he was holding you, the real, physical you, in his arms once more. You smelt like water, grass and the forest. It was a scent he would burn into his mind of he could.

You pulled him towards the bed gently, forgetting what you had been doing before entering the house and tackled him onto the bed in your hold.

His voice was rough as he spoke, pulling you closer against him as he mumbled against your skin. It may have taken him 13 years to do it, but he did it.

"I promised you I'd come back to you."

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stylistiquements · 4 years ago

Text

There was the silence and there were the stars | Corpse husband x reader -Among Us AU

Among us AU : There was something. Something in the silence and the harsh coldness -that only space was capable of- that turned your brain into a sarcastic and bored mess. Maybe that’s why you found yourself so interested by any sabotage pulled on the crewmates, maybe that’s what made him so interesting to witness. He was different from the rest of you. Different to an extend you were about to understand.

❚ Word count : 4.2k ❚ Warning : A bit angsty but you will get that fluffity fluff and touch starve feeling you require I promise ; swearing ❚ Note : there will be no mention of death or killing as it is basically a real life Among us, just some shenanigans. Y/C : your/color

A/N : This little thing was inspired by -⭐️ anon. It was a fun thing to write even though it took me way too long because I asked my brain “sir may I pls have the focus capacity I need” and brain said no (: so yeah, this is litteraly just me ranting n complaining about space. This is a bit angsty but as what if is way too happy for me that was a nice opportunity. I hope you won’t mind and appreciate it anyway. As always just let me know. As it’s my first time writing like a one shot thingy I’m really curious to know. Also it’s supposed to be proofread but if you find any mistake just take ur glasses off. Thanks. Enjoy the wild ride.

You met him again. He was fixing wires while you were downloading some files on the computer. Difficulties happened regularly around here; various oddities that occurred from time to time, sometimes a few times a day. It would go from doors closing mysteriously to no electricity, you never knew which one it would be. Those inconveniences used to draw a smile on your lips, a grin you tried your best to hide from everyone else. The sound of the urging siren resounded in your head like a call, reviving the last spared spark left in your brain. At this point, you were pretty sure it was one of your crewmates’ doing, too many coincidences for any other options to be left. You didn’t mind though. The game started months ago but still amused you to this day.

He never let a word escape his mouth. To your awareness, no one knew anything about him, no one had ever heard the sound of his voice which you could only dare to imagine since the two of you met. It felt silly, you fabricated this voice inside your head, a half-finished melody you played to keep your mind busy. It would have sounded just as an old piano would. So slightly out of tune that maybe, if you didn’t care enough or wished for it not to be true, you wouldn’t even notice.

You called him black. It resonated with the color of his suit and the darkness that emanated from his soul. Not that he looked like a mischievous character, but rather like someone who would have been gnawed by life for years. A shade that reminded you of the bittersweet feeling 4 AM forced you to taste. Describing that presentiment was a challenge you couldn’t take. It was one of those things that had to be felt, not narrated.

Shit.

He caught you staring again. How could you look any other way? There was something with him that appealed to you, that pulled your eyes toward his direction every time. Probably only a peak of unwarranted curiosity you couldn’t really be blamed for, probably the oh-so mysterious aura that floated so carelessly around him. He always had this way of sneaking in and out, just as if he was nothing but his own shadow.

Yet, being near him was easy. Silence only felt comfortable when he was in your surroundings. The whole world stopped existing -and it had in fact since the first day you two met.

He had dark charcoal hair which fell so perfectly in curly strands around the two horns that crowned over his head. Paired with two ruby hued eyes, he truly was a sight for sore eyes. A wicked and breathtaking beauty, so unique it gave you the impression that he wasn’t even human.

He used to hop in a vent after finishing his tasks. As if his true home was there; a secret hideout for him and him only. You didn’t even know it was a thing before you watched it with your own eyes. Who wouldn’t blame him. If you could have escaped that warmth deprived place too, even for 5 minutes, you would have.

That’s why you never asked any question about it nor tried to investigate further. Being stuck in space was only a kid’s fantasy, nothing a fully conscious adult would inflict to themselves. Which, in itself, was pretty much self-explanatory about everyone’s mental condition in here.

It was also a pre-established rule, no questions. No one ever expressed it out loud, but you would have to be a fool not to guess it. Every crewmate grew accustomed to the deadly silence only space had to offer. A giant timeless hole where nothing really happened. With nothing but the smell of technology and the constant purr of engines as the only distractions left. See, living in a spaceship was no ordinary lifestyle : days and nights melted into each other until it became nothing but a groundless concept. The crewmates perceived it as comforting for some reason. You used to shrug it off, no questions. How unethical would you be to disturb their peace?

If you had to be honest, you would probably say that you felt bad for Black. Nothing like pity, but being alone in this stark and brutal silence for this long must have been pretty life-consuming. That’s why, even though it made your cheeks and the tip of your ears flame up in a raw and unforgivable tint of pink, you always kept looking into his eyes for one more second after he noticed you. Just to be sure he knew that he wasn’t alone in this shit hole. You stared into the depth of those ruby eyes, hunting for silent answers to questions you weren’t even sure of in the first place. He never quivered, only stood motionless until his task was completed. Just locking the eye contact. After that, he always ran away as silently as he existed. Leaving your head disturbingly empty.

Every single time.

Something changed one day. You were about to prepare some test samples when it happened. He jumped off a vent and you followed his movements from the corner of your eyes, too distracted to remember about the task that was assigned to you. He ran to the door and proceeded to shut it. Within the last second, the one that always lasted hours, he put an index in front of his mouth. Silently asking for you not to say a word. And before the steel door could obstruct your vision completely, you noticed a smile on his lips. A smile that made the whole spaceship turn inside out, draining the blood out of your body in a painstaking, almost sore way. There you stood, intoxicated by stupefaction and trapped as a cat.

Black mutated you into a self-depreciating joke : in here, you were only interestied in the impostor. The only one who made your day a little better was the one giving nightmares to the others.

It was him, from the beginning. It was him and he smiled. A grin that twinkled maliciously from his lips to his eyes, wounding your heart in an insoluble way. It made every prejudice you had about him crumble : he was no longer that miserable existence you sensed he was but a quiescent sun that could radiate all around him once unleashed into the world. How did he do that? How could he be both the tunnel and the light at the end of it?

When red came to the rescue, she described you with a glare. She judged you in the not-so-pleasant way. You could always count on those glares to know their opinions about you. Because their judgment would have to be expressed one way or another. She thought you looked suspicious, with your half poured concoction into a hand and the rest of it in the other, just staring blankly into the void. You wouldn’t blame her for that.

It stuck with you for days, filling your empty mind with the sight of a smile that could no longer be experienced. The scene shamelessly repeated itself in your mind until it became nothing but a progression of disassembled images, forcing you to taste the astonishment over and over again. The problem was, you hadn’t seen him for days. And, even though you wanted to know what happened, you couldn’t ask. That was the rule.

What would you say anyway ? Black is the imposter and I watched him close medbay’s door ? Yeah, I don’t think so. You should have stopped him in the first place -and you would have if you weren’t just mesmerized.

So, you took each day -or night … or piece of time, whatever you wanted to call it since it was no longer existent- with composure. Forcing yourself to do any task with a meticulousness that didn’t look like you. Just to make sure your brain was busy enough not to think about it or him. Being trapped in a place and being trapped in your own mind are two different wrestles, yet in here those two intertwined perfectly. Just like the rest of it, it didn’t even make any sense : the guy smiled at you for ten seconds and here you were, an absolute clutter of questions and recollection. You were probably just too bored and he, as always, was the perfect distraction. That must have been it, right?

You walked in admin. Your heart skipped a beat before your eyes could process who stood in front of them.

Look what the cat dragged in.

His hair twirled flawlessly above his face, almost hiding a grimace that indicated so transparently his mind. You leaned against the door frame and crossed your arms, unabashedly watching him as he swiped his card frantically while sighting heavily every time that “bip” of failure rang.

Eventually, he looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. You tried anyway, staring at him as if he was some sort of work of art that needed to be decrypted. From the way his chest moved heavily under the pressure of the irritation to the way his glowing eyes witnessed you. This expression on his face gave him a funny look, a scowl which made the laugh that tickled your throat hard to hold back.

“Y-you have to do it slower. Otherwise, it won’t work” you stuttered. “I guess it’s harder since …”

You walked to him carefully, so carefully you forgot your words. Just as if he was a wild animal who could run away if scared. Making sure no step would fall out of line. He was so close, so close, maybe if you tried to catch him this time he would stop running away.

“Since it’s not my job, right ? Is that what you were about to say ?” he asked with a low voice, a voice you would have never dared to picture for him. Not the broken tone you pictured but a melody so sweet and so unique it felt like it was made just for your ears to enjoy, taunting you to dive into his mind.

“Do you need help” ?

“I- hum- You’re not supposed to help me, you know ?” he stuttered, visibly amused, judging by the way his eyes wrinkled under his smile.

“Are you gonna lock me in the room once again ?” He shook his head as a chuckle escaped from his lips. “Then who cares” you finally breathed.

Your fingers brushed against his warm skin as you grabbed the card. You tried to appear unbothered, hoping so intensely for the swipe to be a first try success. That way, maybe he wouldn’t notice the way you breathed heavily under the weight of your pounding heart. But those red eyes piercing through the depth of your soul were hardly bearable for those like you who suffered from unbeknownst afflictions.

You grew aware of his every move, the way those eyes fell on you, the perfume that emanated from his skin, the sound of his slow yet noticeable respiration.

You gave him his card back and he captured your fingers in the palm of his hand, making it impossible for you to escape his grip. Hiding those blushing cheeks from a sight that seemed to see everything was a defiance only the proudest people would be capable of. It wasn’t your case, but you counted on preserving the last sane cells left in your body.

“Your secret is safe with me.” You whispered, avoiding any eye contact.

“I know that.”

A simple answer that would never be enough to satisfy you. Yet, before you could review the best option of an answer, he left. Just as he always did, he walked away silently -still this time it seemed to last an eternity- while you just stood there inertly as you watched his black silhouette disappear into the endless gray hallways.

You finally caught the breath you had been holding this whole time. Leaning over, you observed your reflection into the screen of the digital tablet as you rubbed your hands together, hoping for that strange spike of electricity that ran through your fingers to fade away quickly. A mess.

“There you are, Corpse” green said as he sat cross-legged in black’s secret place “I’ve been looking for you.”

Corpse was the name green chose for Black, feeling like it would be the most suitable image for the one who always worked in the shadow. Not the most refined nickname, yet black ironically related to that. Silent as a Corpse, he thought. A level of sarcasm that amused him and which probably led to him immediately falling in love with it.

Corpse observed the little sprout on the top of Green’s head. It floated lightly and followed his every move. What a little freak. Just a thing deprived of any sort of self consciousness, out of this world just like he felt he was. Corpse remained fixated on it, hoping he could get as self-aware as it was. The last impromptu reunion he had with you was nothing he had planned, nothing that should have happened. He wouldn’t exactly call it a mistake and still, he had no one else but him to blame.

“Did something happened with y/c ? You seem a little flustered.” Green asked, pulling Corpse out of his overflowed mind.

“I don’t know, I think I kinda fucked up.” He replied with a shrug. “I’ve been spotted.”

“Was it really a mistake ?”

Green was the only one who was granted with the privilege of learning how to understand Corpse. Because, deep inside, they grew up to be the same kind : the kind that didn’t belong here. Two sides of the same coin.

Green’s social intelligence, on the other hand, Black didn’t like it that much. Thanks to that guy, he would be able to work comfortably in the darkness, where no one could see him, but it also meant that he saw clearly what was going through Corpse’s mind. Actually, it didn’t take him too long.

What was the surprise when he realized it was you who lived rent-free in his thoughts? See, in Corpse’s eyes you were different from the others : too conscious about the reality that happened before yours eyes. It made you interesting to observe. What a delightful sight it was to watch you rolling your eyes in your crewmates’ face, to notice the serious look you had when you were focused on a task, the way your eyes sparkled every time a new sabotage was made. He wouldn’t track you, yet he would never resist a peek once your paths crossed. It happened often, more than you actually realized.

Yet, Corpse was no fool. You and him never belonged together. You were destined to a bright destiny and he was the obscurity. That’s why he was more than careful not to get too close, not to see his bare mind get burnt under the exposition of those peculiar feelings in the pit of his stomach.

That’s why his previous reaction made no sense to him. But what could he say? You took him aback when those words were directed at him. You made his short-circuited brain unable to be sensible anymore. He just wanted to know what your touch would feel like under his fingers. Why was his skin blazing with electricity now ?

Corpse swallowed it all. From the blossoming feeling inside his body and mind to the warmth and the softness of your skin. He couldn’t feel that way. “I’m not really sure.” he finally said, as honest as he could be with himself.

He would spend his next few days planning with Green, cornering you to a small part of his brain. You couldn’t be there, you had no right to be. The game was progressing faster than they anticipated it. It made him thrilled, accepting the challenge no one but the two of them could bear.

However, a new unwanted seed grew into his mind. The idea that, maybe, you were only by his side in this game. That, maybe he would never be able to witness your existence in the real world.

“Have you ever noticed how weird the stars look sometimes ?” Corpse asked as he joined navigation. You jumped and your mind turned into a scattered place stuck between a task you battled to achieve and the proximity left between the two of you. Your heart beat in rhythm with his echoing, never ending footsteps. Still you had, indeed, noticed. “It’s like they’re not even real” you answered with a smile that made your voice higher. A melodic lift that betrayed your intention of ever finishing your job.

When you finally looked at him, his lips moved into a satisfied curve. Shivers tickled your arms and your neck. Maybe because he was just standing so perfectly still in front of the glass window. So perfectly still that, among all those celestial bodies, he appeared to be the most beautiful one. “Mind keeping me company for a bit?” Your mouth betrayed you when the question escaped your grip. But Corpse snorted faintly and shook his head.

“From all the people in here you want to spend time with me ? That’s probably not your wisest decision.” He said as he tried to muffle a high pitch laugh with a hand that covered his mouth.

See, that’s the words he had been afraid of since the first time he saw you. The words he would have to turn into derision since he knew he would have no strength to refuse. Yet, you stood there with those glimmering eyes and those eyebrows that arched in a strange manner, cutting every single inch of air out of his lungs. Even if he wanted to say no -and he should- he wouldn’t have been able to.

It was never meant to happen, not judging by your two so hostily opposed nature. Fuck that shit. Who cared about that speech when you were here and you were so beautiful?

You moved closer to him, a strenuous and slow tense that shouldn’t be disregarded. You’ve had seen the same scenery for months yet never it made you feel the same way as you did at that very moment. Because those balls of lights floating into the void shimmered in his ruby hued iris just as a dozen of fireflies would. He made your world a little blurry, narrowed to his presence at your side.

“You forgave me really easily the last time we met.” He noticed. “That’s a little sus if you asked me.”

“Well, what can I say ? You’re the only distraction I have left, so I’m not really in the position to hold grudges.” You shrugged sarcastically.

“You’re really funny, I have to concede that” he said as his smile made its way to his eyes.

Your brutally honest words intertwined with his chuckles and crewmates never heard the spaceship as lively as that time. That time when you got to discover who Corpse really was. A man who hid his blooming existence behind a silence.

“Why did you stay silent this whole time ?” You dared to ask before the silence fell upon the two of you, a silence that maybe you wouldn’t be able to endure this time.

“Because I never wanted to lie”

“I- ...hum- there’s really nothing I could say against that, right ?”

With every grin, every chuckle, every abrupt eye contact, your proximity kept embedding his mind a little deeper until you stole the stars’ show completely. It’s no good, you held his breath hostage when he realized he could feel the warmth stemming out of your skin. So tempted to get closer and witness it with further clearness.

Thus, he lifted a hand that starved connection. He tried to close the gap between your two touches so prudently, so discreetly that you didn’t even notice. A touch, that would go beyond his movement, more like a proof he needed to make sure someone like you really existed in a shithole like this.

He was so close.

Yet, the alarm rang before he could embrace the object of his desire. “Better check that out quickly” you said with a sigh. Somehow, it felt peculiar just knowing that, this time, you were the one running away. A sense of some sort of joke played by space. As if space hadn’t done enough. When Green cut the communication, he couldn’t realize -If only he knew the double meaning of that sabotage. Ah, the irony of it all.

“I’ll see you soon” Corpse informed you, more of a promise than a farewell and he stayed there long enough, staring numbly at his hand.

You ran until the communication room, holding this bittersweet feeling on the tip of your tongue. You tried to swallow it and almost found yourself praying that no one would arrive before you could. This way, maybe your fugue would make more sense.

Blue was already sitting on the floor, trying to find the good frequencies. “I’m already on it.” she said on a plain, monotone voice. Of course, she fucking would be.

Now what was left to do ? Corpse was probably already gone and-and the silence … the silence had returned. A dead, cold, cruel silence. It tested out your nerves, built up some pressure down your throat that made keeping your composure barely possible. Corpse slipped between your fingers again. The game was no longer a funny and pleasant diversion from the plain, austere daily life you had. You grew tired of that cat and mouse game. You just wanted him.

After going back to the oh-so empty navigation room, you completed your tasks. And you were finally done. You wandered around for hours, days -who knows-, searching for a purpose.

The game was coming to an end, you could feel it. Something in the air changed, it became dryer than ever. Unbearable on your skin that ached for something you couldn’t apprehend. The crewmates were agitated, everyone kept running around day and night just to make sure the last tasks would be completed as soon as possible. New difficulties were triggered almost as soon as the last ones ended. Chaos.

Just as if he wasn’t ready to end the game so soon, as if he didn’t want to get the hell out of this place as much as you did. From time to time, you almost found yourself eager to ignore the alarm. Taunting him one last time by neglecting his call.

Maybe that way he would show up, maybe that way he would stay with you. Yeah, maybe that way he would stop being nothing but an ephemeral being that almost made you wonder if you finally gave up on your mind to the silence. Because at that moment he only felt like a chimera your brain created to protect you. Because you were just so fucking bored.

You gave up on that idea, turning on the CCTV as you sighed. Just to see more colorful suits running around, trying to hold their shit together for what appeared to be the ultimate hour. Despite all the sabotages, it seemed like your number made your strength. You imagined Corpse’s face, probably piqued. A dark frown covering his pretty eyes. It made your lips twitch for a second. Who knew it would end this way ? Definitely not you.

Yet that amused smile faded away when you heard the familiar sound of the door closing, locking you in yet another time. You rolled your eyes and turned around, unprepared to witness who locked themselves with you. His body laid against the door, guarding it as his chest moved frenetically under the weight of his rushing breath.

“This is the end” he whispered frantically under his breath. He doesn’t look as worried as you thought he would, but it didn’t matter. You moved impulsively toward him, never stopping until he snaked a hand around your waist and slipped the other one in your back. That way, this time, there were no escape.

He let his head rest in the hollow of your neck, soaking the divine and comforting warmth you had to offer. His warm breath on your skin sent shivers through your body which responded by squeezing him a little tighter, holding him as close to your heart as humanly possible. You could feel his, beating so fast.

“This is the end.” His whisper grounded on your skin.

He lifted his head to dive into your eyes with the same sweet smile you offered him. The one which expressed the happiness, the relievment it felt to embrace him.

“If it were for you, I would do it all over again.” You said, pressing your forehead against his, sharing a breath as you closed your eyes. One last attempt to memorize everything about him. You sensed his smile, so wide you didn’t even have to look at it to see. He left a trail of kisses on your cheeks and your hand wandered in his hair as a faint gasp escaped your lips.

Corpse looked back at you. And then, as his thumb drew light circles on your cheek. With glowing eyes that translated all the adoration he felt for you, he whispered “Maybe it was just meant to be”. And then, he closed the distance between the two of you, brushing your lips softly at first before capturing them completely once he was sure you felt the same way as he did. A kiss that tasted like 4AM and home.

“I’ll find my way back to you, my love. I’ll find you in the real world.” He promised.

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband fic #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x you #corpse husband x y/n #among us au #corpse x you #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse scenario #corpse imagine #corpse among us #corpse fluf #corpse angst

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the-untamed-obsession · 4 years ago

Note

AAA- Changes of Regret h u r t-!! It was so good,,, qwq If it's alright, may I request the reader being brought back to life post Guanyin Temple? Kinda like a continuation but our poor Xichen finally gets some sort of happiness. Stay safe!<3

Haiii!! I kinda couldn’t resist 😅 I hope you like it! It’s longer than the original!

Side note: Alessia and Scarlett are my OCs! They’re my good ocs ^w^

PART 1 HERE

Word count: 2.4k

Changes of Regret II

“It’s here.” The blue-haired woman mentioned as she tapped on a headstone. There were small wisps around her that lit up the extremely dark cemetery. “(Y/n)’s buried here.”

“Thank you, Alessia.” Scarlett spoke as she touched the large headstone. She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and smiling. Both women stood back as Alessia waved her hands, causing a burst of energy to destroy the headstone and creating a large opening right above the coffin.

With her magic, Alessia was able to lift the coffin out of its grave and placed it on the ground. She tore the top off, allowing Scarlett to look inside. Her gentle green eyes scanned your features before a smile appeared on her face.

“Perfect.” Reaching down, Scarlett’s hand touched your chest, a golden glow starting to emit from the touch. It glowed brighter and brighter, outshining the wisps Alessia had. The said mage watched from behind, ready to help in case anything went wrong.

Scarlett had been practicing Necromancy for a long while and her ultimate goal was to revive a corpse to its original form. She wanted no negative effects of the summoning which were prone to happen due to the nature of such rituals.

The glow finally started to dim, transferring to Scarlett’s eyes instead. The light was almost blinding in the final moments of the spell. Finally, she pulled away and watched you; Alessia joining seconds later.

“Did it work?” The mage inquired as the two stared down at your form. Your fingers twitched before your eyes shot open, glowing a bright pink before returning to their normal color.

“Yes. It worked.”

***

It had been about two years since you were brought back from the dead. The entirety of that time was given to Scarlett as she took care of you while you recovered. There had been two main problems with being brought to life. One unexpected side effect with bringing someone back to life was the healing process. Yes, even you needed to heal.

The typical healing time depended on the person. Children often took four to five years to fully heal, while adults took one to two. Your healing process lasted a little over a year and a half. You learned how to walk, talk, eat, and co-exist with others. Although it seemed rather simple, you had a very hard time readjusting.

The other problem was the lack of memories. As you started to heal, you realized you knew nothing of the past. Not one memory surfaced the entire time. Alessia had promised once you were fully healed and ready to go, she’d help bring them back. Until then, you only knew one thing. Your name.

Currently, you and Scarlett were making your way to Alessia. You had been fully healed for about three days now and as promised, Alessia wanted to help recover your memories. The walk from Scarlett’s home to Alessia’s was a little over five minutes.

“We’re here.” Scarlett announced, as she entered the home. She never knocked but her friend never seemed to care. Alessia came out and greeted you two with a bright smile.

“Today’s the big day! Are you excited?” You mirrored her smile and nodded, letting her lead you into another room. Scarlett waited outside, knowing this was private matters, and although she was like your mother this entire time, she knew some things were just too personal.

You laid down on the bed that Alessia had prepared while she sat down on the chair beside you.

“Close your eyes and clear your mind.” She instructed as she held her hands over your form. You obeyed her and did your best to not think of anything. Warmth wrapped around your form and your mind started to feel fuzzy. You felt so tired… almost as if you were about to fall asleep. You wanted to warn Alessia, but found yourself too exhausted to do so.

Instead, you fell into a deep slumber. It took a few seconds before you felt your feet hit the ground and when you opened your eyes, you found yourself in an unrecognizable garden. There were many small wisps flying around, some even twirling and dancing around you. You giggled and reached out to touch them, when a particular wisp flew up to you.

It felt so… familiar. To the point where you’d forgotten about the others and followed where it attempted to lead you. You followed it through the garden and to a large door. It was connected to nothing, just a doorframe in the middle of the pathway. The wisp stopped at the door handle and you assumed it wanted you to walk through.

You followed its instructions, entering a forest. As you followed down the path with the wisp, you saw small visions. Were… these your memories?

“Wei Wuxian! Nice to meet you!”

“I’m (y/n)! It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, young master Wei.”

That… was Wei Wuxian. Your best friend… someone you’d give your life for. Literally. You walked up to his transparent figure, his smiling bringing a sense of nostalgia and melancholy to your heart.

The wisp garnered your attention once more and led you further down the path, where you saw another vision.

“You must be (y/n), it’s nice to meet you.”

“Y-you’re Lan Xichen! One of the Twin Jades of Lan!”

His humble chuckle sent a wave of butterflies through your stomach. His handsome smile made your cheeks light up, but his voice made your heart ache. Why? What happened?

You followed the wisp further into the forest, coming upon yet another vision. This… was Wei Wuxian. He seemed… different from the first vision. Why… were you guarding him?

“Stay back!”

“Get away from him, (y/n)! He’s the Yiling Patriarch!”

“I… I know. But I won’t allow you to hurt him!”

What? Who was the Yiling Patriarch? As you thought that, your mind answered your own question. He became the Yiling Patriarch when he was thrown into the Burial Grounds, where he’d go on to invent Demonic Cultivation.

Why… did you defend him?

You placed a hand on your chest and closed your eyes, seeking the answer. No less than two seconds later, you had it.

Loyalty.

You and Wei Wuxian were fiercely loyal to each other. No matter what, Wei Wuxian always protected you and you protected him. You stood by his side, no matter what. Even when Lan Wangji had started to question him, even when he abandoned the Yunmeng Jiang Clan, even when he’d accidentally killed Jin Zixuan, when he’d ultimately lost control of Wen Ning, you were always there to help him. In turn, no matter what, Wei Wuxian strived to keep you safe and sound.

Then what happened? Why did you hurt like this? You knew you died for him… but what happened?

As you continued to follow the wisp, you came across another vision.

“Don’t do this, (y/n)!” Lan Xichen begged, but you’d looked away.

“I’m sorry. I’ve made up my mind. I’m staying with Wei Wuxian… goodbye.”

You watched your transparent figure leave and when you looked at Lan Xichen, you felt your heart shatter. The look of pure agony and pain in his eyes as he watched you leave brought everything back.

That’s right. You’d abandoned your boyfriend because your loyalty to Wei Wuxian was stronger. You knew you’d hurt him, but at the same time you felt he understood. It still hurt to think about.

The further down the path you went, the more memories you unlocked. Towards the end, you found the same door you did at the beginning. The wisp touched the handle and you reached out to touch it. Instead of it walking you through, however, it vanished. You looked back at the forest with solemn eyes before walking through the door.

Who knew your past had been so lonely and broken?

***

“You’re awake.” You blinked to get the haze out of your eyes before looking at Alessia. “Did you recover all your memories?” You nodded as certain memories rushed back at you. Already, your cheerful demeanor had been crushed.

“Did… you see?”

“No, I can’t. I can just help bring them back… but I can tell from your face it wasn’t pretty.” You shook your head and sat up.

“I… have to go see someone. Now.”

“Ok, let’s go.” With that, you three were off. You knew exactly where to go and you hoped he was still there. Your Xichen. It was a long journey, one where you contemplated turning back numerous times. You were scared. What would he say? What would he do? What… would happen to him?

It had been about three years since your death, added with the two years from the recovery period, you had been “dead” for five years. How was Xichen now? Did he move on? Was he married? There had been so much that had happened and the way you died without being able to tell him everything you wanted sent a deep sense of regret through you. But you wouldn’t quit. No, you would see him and you would explain everything to him.

If by the end of it he wanted you to disappear and never return, you would do so. If he wanted you to stay, you would do so. You’d only hoped it would end well and that all of your worries were just that.

“We’re here.” Scarlett announced as she stopped. You three stood at the base of the mountain, one that was so familiar to you even though you hadn’t seen it in your new life. You remembered many memories here, but only one stuck out at you.You looked at the two women behind you who gave you a supportive smile.

“Go on. We’ll be here when you get back.” Alessia smiled, with a little wave.

“Take care and don’t be scared.” Scarlett added, patting your head. You gave them a bright smile and nodded before running off up the stairs. You couldn’t wait any longer. You had to see him.

***

Xichen sat at the table, his eyes glancing over the letter he’d been sent a few days ago. It had been expressing concerns about recent events that had taken place nearby, all relating to demonic activity. He sighed, feeling the stress build up. The paper slipped from his hand and fell onto the ground, but he didn’t care to pick it up.

He stared out the window, seeing a cloud rolling by. Immediately, his mind left from his current concerns and to some fantasy world. He daydreamed about you often. Even now, years later, nothing had changed. Xichen was the same mess as before. He was clumsy, unable to concentrate on anything, and often had to be forced to do any work. Even then, any progress he made was either painstakingly slow or none at all.

Xichen had given up all efforts in trying to heal. He didn’t care. He didn’t want to get better, he didn’t want to move on, he didn’t want to try and become what he used to be. He wanted you and nothing else, unfortunately, he couldn’t have you.

He barely registered the door opening, someone walking in, and sitting down in front of him. He just stared off into the distance as your smiling face came into his mind. He did his best to remember you, never wanting to face the day where he couldn’t recall what you’d looked like.

Finally, a hand waved in front of his face, making him blink back into reality. He sighed and looked at the person in front of him. At the sight, he was immediately startled.

You sat there with a look of concern on your face. You moved a little closer, slowly in fear of him moving away, but he didn’t react at all.

“Are you ok, Xichen?” You… sounded exactly the same.

He’d lost it. Xichen had officially lost it and now he was hallucinating. Great, as if he couldn’t get any worse. But… was that so bad? He’d lost interest in life the day you left him, so what did it matter now?

At least now it felt like you were here, that you were real. When you smiled at him, his heart fluttered like never before. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheeks. They were warm.

“(y/n)...” he murmured as he looked over your features repeatedly. If you were a hallucination then that meant you’d disappear soon. He had to make sure he studied every inch of your face before you left him again.

“Xichen… you’ve given up.” You whispered, making him look away shamefully.

“I… don’t care. I don’t want anything. I don’t care for anything. I just needed you.” This is what you’d done to him. You’d taken a powerful, kind, graceful man and turned him into… nothing. Although it wasn’t on purpose, you couldn’t help but feel responsible. Both of you had made mistakes, but this was never the outcome you’d imagined.

You knew Xichen never blamed you, he just wasn’t like that. You were positive even now he didn’t blame you. But you blamed yourself. Someone needed to be held responsible for this...

“I’m here now,” you said, taking his face in your hands, “I’m back so I want you to come back too. I want you to be the same as you were before.” He shook his head with a sad smile.

“You’re not back. You’re… just a hallucination. You’ll disappear and it’ll be like I lost you all over again.”

“I’m real! Look!” You took his hand and placed it on your chest, where he could feel your heart beating. That was… odd. He must’ve really lost it if you were this real.

However, his negative thoughts were crushed when he heard the door open. In ran his brother, Lan Wangji, who stared at you with wide eyes.

“(Y/n)...” he whispered as he fell to his knees beside you. He took you by the shoulders and stared at you with pure shock. “You’re alive… you’re actually alive.” He looked at his brother who seemed to be just as surprised. Up until now, he hasn’t even considered the idea of you actually being alive. He genuinely believed he had gone crazy.

“It’s r-real?” The broken question pained your heart but you nodded. Lan Wangji nodded too, confirming the “hallucination” was indeed real.

“I’m real, Xichen. I’m real.” Almost instantly, you were taken into his arms and he held you so tightly. You had many questions about what had happened since your death, but they could wait until later.

Right now, you two just needed… this. You needed to be close to each other. Especially Xichen. He needed to be reminded that you were actually here and that you wouldn’t leave him again.

#mdzs reader insert #mdzs x reader #mdzs #mdzs imagine #mdzs lan xichen #mdzs lan xichen x reader #lan xichen x reader #lan xichen

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jeonsjiddies · 5 years ago

Text

8 letters | knj (m)

summary- If all it is is eight letters. Why is it so hard to say? If all it is is eight letters, why am I in my own way? Why do I pull you close and then ask you for space? If all it is is eight letters, why is it so hard to say?

8 letters - why don't we

or, emotionally constipated Namjoon is too scared to admit he's in love with you.

rating- explicit 18+

word count- 6071

pairing- namjoon x reader

genre- fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: mentions of jimin x reader, daddy kink, rough sex, edging, jealous Namjoon

a/n: thanks again to @sweetnspicy93 for beta reading and helping me bounce ideas back and forth. Love you <3

Find Jimin’s happy ending here (both stories can be read alone.)

Namjoon typically thought of himself as a pretty intelligent man. He was clumsy, but he was competent. He could solve an equation in his head in under a minute, he’d learned English on his own. He could read a novel in a few hours, and constantly sought out new knowledge. Namjoon was book smart. When it came to love though, Namjoon felt like an idiot.

He wasn’t in denial or anything, he was aware of how he felt and he could name it. It’s not like Namjoon didn’t know he was in love with you, he just couldn’t bring himself to tell you. He wanted to, god he wanted to. He wanted to tell you everything and pull you into his arms and show you everything he’d bottled inside over the past few years.

If he could just shut off his brain long enough to throw caution to the wind, he would tell you everything. If he could stop thinking about every possible thing that could go wrong, he would take a chance. If he could stop worrying about ruining everything, he would do something. But Namjoon can’t figure out how to turn his brain off, so he just sits. And stares.

You’d met Namjoon in college, both of you timid freshmen in a large lecture class who got paired together for a research paper. Namjoon had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life, and spent far more time looking at you than looking up sources to site for your paper. You were pretty sure your cheeks never went back to normal after that, permanently painted a slight shade of pink at the handsome man who couldn’t stop watching you.

Despite the heat in your cheeks and the way Namjoon couldn’t keep his eyes off you, you both quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm. You’d never felt so close with someone so fast in your life. Strangers one day, best friends the next. You felt like you’d known each other your entire lives within a matter of days. You’d both spent the entirety of your college career attached at the hip, and you still were to this day.

Now, you shared a two bedroom apartment with your best friend and spent every moment you could together. You never got tired of each other’s company. Lately though, you’d noticed Namjoon was acting a little weird. Namjoon wasn’t shy when it came to affection, and would often pull you into a hug or let you cuddle up to him while you watched a film together.

But the past few weeks he had been very hot and cold. He’d pull you in for a cuddle then stiffen and shuffle away, avoiding your gaze. He’d lean into your touch when you played with his hair then squirm away and mumble apologies before disappearing into his room for the rest of the night. It felt like Namjoon was pulling away from you and it was breaking your heart. You didn’t know what you were doing wrong. You were determined to revive your friendship to its’ former glory.

“Joonie!” you called, shouting down the hall as you made your way towards his room.

You knocked lightly on the door and he called for you to come in. His head lifted to look at you as you hopped your way over to him excitedly.

“What are you doing?” you grinned, leaning over his shoulder and pressing your body against his back as you surveyed the contents of his desk.

Namjoon coughed uncomfortably and leaned away from you. You frowned and stood up straight.

“It’s a proposal for work on Thursday. We’re going to be expanding the marketing department and launching a new social media campaign and they want me to come up with the pitch to give the director for our new campaign.” he explained.

“Why are you working at home?” you asked, your brow furrowing in worry.

“Because I need to have this done in two days.” he sighed.

“Oh Joon, please don’t overwork yourself. Look at the bags under your eyes! Aren’t you exhausted?” you cooed, letting your thumb run under his eye in an attempt to soothe the bags.

Namjoon closed his eyes and sighed happily while leaning into your touch, relishing the feeling of your skin on his for a moment. His breathing seemed to even at the comfort he felt when you were close to him. You smiled fondly at the soft man under your touch before Namjoon snapped back to reality and jerked away from you.

“I should get back to it…” he cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze.

“Joonie…” you sighed, wanting to reach out to him.

“Hm?” he asked, not looking up from his laptop where he typed away.

“Nothing. Good luck with your project.” you sighed.

A few hours later, Joon emerged and immediately fell onto the couch next to you, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck and snuggling up against your frame.

“My head hurts.” he whined.

“You’ve been staring at that computer all day. Of course it does.” you accused, but began running your fingers through his hair gently the way you knew Namjoon loved.

He sighed and leaned into your touch, letting you bring comfort to his aching brain. Namjoon melted into your touch, and you hummed quietly, hoping to soothe the pain at least a little. You hated how hard Namjoon worked, you hated seeing him suffer in any way and just wanted to hold him and make him relax.

Soon, Namjoon’s weight against you grew heavy and you knew he’d fallen asleep. You maneuvered his head off of your shoulder and into your lap so you could watch him. His unconscious body seemed to seek yours out. He snuggled closer to your stomach, resting his cheek against it and smiling. You giggled quietly and let your fingers gently trail over his features.

You traced the bridge of his nose, up over his forehead, and he hummed happily in his sleep. You giggled and let your tender touches float down his cheeks and over his lips. You traced the outline of his full lips more than once, wondering idly what they might feel like against your own. They were soft and thick. You wanted to taste them so badly.

You sighed and moved your fingers back up to his cheeks, starting your journey over again. Between the soft sounds of his even breathing to the warmth of his body on yours, you didn’t really stand a chance and ended up falling asleep too, your hand on his cheek and your head lolled back against the couch.

You woke hours later in your own bed tucked into your duvet. You frowned at the cold air surrounding you and the lack of Namjoon in your arms. You huffed in annoyance and flung the blankets off your body, stalking towards Namjoon’s room to ask him just what his problem was. You were about to fling his door open and give him a piece of your mind when you heard a quiet moan from inside.

Was his headache that bad? Poor Joon. Maybe he’d just needed to lie in a dark place. You cracked the door to glance in and check on him, and froze as your eyes soaked in the sight before you. Namjoon lay naked on his bed, sweat slicked hair stuck to his forehead as his massive hand worked up and down his equally massive dick. Your own hand came to cover your mouth in shock but you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

Joon grunted softly, running his thumb over the tip and jerking his hips at the action. Moisture pooled in your panties while you watched his abdomen constrict with the pressure building as he tugged and moaned. Joon’s moans were sinful, beautiful, melodic. You wanted to draw the lovely sounds from the man, but you just watched him pleasure himself. His breathing picked up pace and his moans turned to whines as he got closer to release. Joon met his high and spurts of white shot from his length as he bit his lip to hold in the loud groan. You quietly shut the door so you wouldn’t get caught peeping on your best friend, but couldn’t shake the image of his body shuddering under his ministrations. The scene played on repeat in your brain the whole night, invading your dreams as well.

***

“You had a sex dream about Namjoon?” Jimin coughed, spitting out a little of the coffee he’d been drinking.

“Yes. Ugh. And… it’s not the first time.” you admitted, avoiding his gaze.

“Ooh, who would’ve thought you were such a dirty girl.” Jimin teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Ughhh. Jimin help me. The dreams didn’t used to be this vivid but when I saw him jerking off the other day-”

“YOU WHAT?” he choked.

“Oh yeah. Ummm… I kinda accidentally watched him masturbate?” you said it like a question.

“Accidentally?” Jimin raised an accusing brow.

“I was checking on him since he had a headache and… I saw him jerking it.” you hid your face in your hands.

“Oh my god.” Jimin laughed. “Wait how big is he?”

“Jimin!” You chastised, but grinned knowingly.

“I knew it. Damn. I feel insecure now. Joon really has it all.” He laughed.

“I’m sure you’re fine.” You giggled. “Now help me!”

“He doesn’t know that you saw, right?” Jimin confirmed.

“No!” You blurted out, a little too loudly for the small cafe.

The barista glared at you. You lowered your tone, sending her an apologetic smile.

“No. I could never look him in the eye again. I’d have to move.” You gushed anxiously.

“I bet he was jacking off to you.” Jimin smirked.

“Oh shut up Jimin. I’m the one with the crush not him.” You sighed.

“Y/N. You’re both clearly into each other and neither of you has enough balls to do anything about it.” Jimin tutted.

“There’s no way.” You shook your head in denial.

“Wanna bet on it?” He smirked. “$50 says he likes you too. He just needs… a push.”

“A push?” You asked.

“Let’s make him jealous.” Jimin grinned.

“How?” You asked, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

“Pretend you’re into me. We’ll flirt in front of him, cuddle a bit, see if he snaps.” Jimin’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

“That will never work because he doesn’t like me.” You argued.

“Well if you’re right you’ll be $50 richer. What do you have to lose?” He shrugged.

“Well… I guess you’re right.” You nodded. “Fine but only to get you to shut up about Joon liking me. And when I win you have to help me get over this weird lusting phase.”

“Phase.” he scoffed “Like you haven’t been dying to get that man inside you for years.”

Your face turned bright red and you flipped him off, but didn’t object with his words. You couldn’t. It’s not that you hadn’t been attracted to Joon before, it was just intensified after the events you witnessed the night before. It seemed to be all you could think about when you looked at him.

So for the next few weeks, you’d slowly introduced PDA with Jimin while watching to see if you got a reaction out of Namjoon. It started off light, hand holding here, a kiss on the cheek there. Namjoon seemed uncomfortable, but not jealous. You were ready to collect your $50 and call it quits but Jimin kept insisting that if you took it a little further, Namjoon would crack and be unable to hold back his jealousy.

And that was how you found yourself on your couch straddling Jimin’s lap.

“Jimin this is stupid.” You whisper-hissed, trying your best not to make contact with his crotch despite your position.

“Trust me, if Joon walks in on this, he’ll lose his shit.” Jimin assured you.

You heard the door unlock and sent Jimin a panicked look. He grabbed your hips and ground your body down on his and quickly moved his lips against your neck to leave a mark on the skin. If you weren’t so gone for Namjoon you might have actually enjoyed it. You did your best to put on a show, leaning your head back and letting out quiet moans.

A loud crash came from the direction of the front door of your shared apartment and you gasped, looking up to see Namjoon frozen in place with his jaw nearly on the floor. The grocery bags he’d been carrying had fallen from his now limp hands. Jimin’s lips stilled against your skin and you both looked towards Namjoon feigning shock.

You scrambled off of Jimin’s lap and stood up, smoothing your clothes. Jimin stayed on the couch, just observing.

“Joon! I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.” You squeaked.

“I-uh… yeah, I just… sorry.” He mumbled, ducking his head down and picking up the spilled groceries.

You dashed over to help, but Namjoon flinched away from you so you backed up and let him finish the task. You gnawed on your lower lip, waiting for him to say something else. You glanced at Jimin who sent you an encouraging smile and a thumbs up.

“If you guys don’t want to be interrupted maybe you should do that in your room, and not the shared living area.” Namjoon finally spoke, trying and failing to hide the venom in his tone.

Jimin stood up, walking over and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, resting his head at the crook of your neck and peppering soft kisses at the exposed skin, licking over the previous lovebites he’d placed there, making sure Namjoon saw them. Namjoon stiffened.

“He’s right, let’s take this somewhere a little more… private. Poor Joonie shouldn’t have to witness the things I’m about to do to my dirty slut.” he purred seductively, hot breath fanning over your ear.

You shivered and glanced at Namjoon who was staring daggers at Jimin. A gasp escaped your lips as Jimin rolled his hips into your ass and you felt a very real erection. You turned to look at him and he grinned with no remorse, tugging your wrist to lead you to your bedroom. He closed the door and slammed your body up against it, hands pressing into your shoulders, but kept a distance from you now that Namjoon wasn’t watching.

“Jimin, what the fu-” you began.

“Moan. Loud. Make it believable.” he whispered. “If he thinks I’m fucking your brains out in here he’s going to lose his shit.”

“Jimin why do you have a boner?” you hissed.

“Y/N.” he scoffed. “I am absolutely team Namjoon okay? But I am a man, and a beautiful woman was just grinding on my dick. Sue me.”

“I-”

“It doesn’t mean I’m into you or anything, but that was hot. I’m not going to try anything but I can’t stop my anatomy from functioning properly. You can’t tell me you’re not a little turned on.” he grumbled, removing his hands from your shoulders and stepping back so you could peel yourself off the door.

“Okay. You’re right. Now what?” you asked.

“Be a good girl and moan for me.” he winked, sitting on your bed and pulling out his phone.

“Fuck, Jimin!” you did your best impression of a moan despite how uncomfortable you felt, sitting beside him and holding a pillow in your lap.

Jimin’s eyebrows shot up.

“Damn. Okay.” he whispered, then got louder as he groaned. “Fuck baby right there. Mmm… your pretty little mouth feels so good wrapped around my cock.”

You stifled a giggle and shoved his arm and he shot you the cockiest grin you’d ever seen on him, which was saying something. Jimin continued to moan loudly, until he decided it was time for things to kick up a notch.

“Okay, show time baby.” he winked, and stood up.

He began shoving your headboard against the wall rhythmically. It was loud enough it shook you, so you knew Namjoon could hear.

“Fuck, YN. You’re so tight.” Jimin groaned, sending you a pointed look.

“Ugh! Right there!” you whined loudly.

“Who owns this pussy?” Jimin smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Jimin!” you cried out, then tried not to laugh when Jimin dramatically fanned himself.

“Harder! Oh god don’t stop!” you called out, and Jimin gave you a thumbs up while he continued shoving your headboard against the wall.

“Are you going to cum on Daddy’s cock?” Jimin grinned.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” you screamed, honestly a little impressed with how realistic you sounded.

Jimin joined in your chorus with loud moans of his own, and stopped slamming your headboard against the wall. You suddenly got very embarrassed he’d heard such intimate sounds out of you, even if they were fake. Your cheeks burned cherry red and you avoided Jimin’s gaze.

“Damn. That was hot.” he whisper-laughed, knocking his shoulder into yours as he sat beside you.

“Shut up.” you giggled. “Kinda was though.”

“If things don’t work out with Joonie, call me.” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Please, you couldn’t handle all this.” you joked, gesturing to yourself.

“You’re right, you’re an emotional basket case and I am not as patient as Namjoon.” he laughed, flinching when you punched his arm.

“Asshole.” you giggled.

“Come here.” he suddenly said, reaching for your hair and messing it up.

“What the fuck!” you hissed.

“Do you want to look fucked or do you want to look like we faked it?” he narrowed his eyes.

“True.” you agreed, reaching over and doing the same to his soft tendrils.

“Ooh, scratch my neck. Wait no. Should I walk out there shirtless and have you scratch my back?” he smirked evilly.

“Take your shirt off.” you instructed.

“Damn round two already? You’re insatiable!” Jimin chuckled.

You rolled your eyes and waited for him to rid himself of his t-shirt, then thought about the most realistic angle. You put your hands up to assess, turning and standing and checking your options. You finally decided the only way to get realistic marks was to act it out.

“I think you’re gonna have to get on top of me.” you concluded.

“I thought you’d never ask.” he smirked, exaggeratedly rolling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Shut up, I just want it to look real.” you hissed, laying back while Jimin hovered over you.

“Suuure.” he grinned, looking down into your eyes from his position above you. He smiled.

You wrapped your arms around his torso and dug your nails experimentally into his back. Jimin shivered involuntarily. You bit your lip to conceal a giggle and raked your nails down his back, making sure to dig into the skin a little so the marks would stay. A quiet whimper left Jimin’s throat.

“You’re enjoying this too much.” you accused.

“You’re probably right.” he laughed. “I’m going straight home to jack off after this.”

“You’re disgusting.” you laughed.

Jimin shrugged unapologetically. “You should probably do it a few more times to make it look like I fucked you real good.”

“You just like it.” you laughed.

“That too.” he agreed.

He had a point though, so you repeated the action a few more times, desperately trying to ignore the noises that erupted from Jimin as you did. If you weren’t so in love with Namjoon you’d probably jump Jimin’s bones at this point. You did your best not to focus on his toned abs when he finally rose from you, allowing you to inspect your marks.

“Looks good.” you smiled, giving him a thumbs up.

An idea struck you so you shimmied your pants off and slipped on some pajama shorts and changed into Jimin’s shirt. He nodded in approval.

“Show time.” he sing songed, pulling your bedroom door open and sauntering down the hallway.

You followed him, noting Joon on the couch watching some new Netflix documentary. You didn’t say anything as you breezed past him, following Jimin into the kitchen to brew some tea.

“I need a snack to replenish my energy. You really wore me out, baby girl.” Jimin teased, pinching your behind and causing you to yelp.

“Do you want me to make something?” you asked.

“Mmm… cooking for me? Maybe we could use some leftover whipped cream for round two.” he suggested playfully.

“Stop.” you giggled, covering your face.

“I really should get going though, it’s getting late and I have to work tomorrow. I wish I could just stay here, in your bed. I don’t think we’d get any sleep though.” he chuckled.

“Let me change out of your shirt real quick.” you offered but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you against his body.

“Mmm… keep it. Looks better on you anyway. Plus, I wanna show off my battle scars.” he wiggled his eyebrows.

Namjoon got up off the couch, turned off the tv, and stalked to his room, slamming the door shut without a word. You looked to Jimin in surprise. He smirked victoriously.

“Check. Mate.” he grinned.

“He’s probably just annoyed because we’re being obnoxious.” you sighed.

“Trust me, Y/N. He’s jealous and filled with rage. If looks could kill, you’d be planning my funeral right now.” Jimin assured you.

“If you say so… do you really not want this back?” you asked.

“Nah. I got a spare in the car.” he smiled, “good luck, okay? Don’t chicken out if the opportunity presents itself. You like him. He likes you. You guys could be happy. Let yourself be happy, yeah?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and let yourself be comforted by your friend’s words and his warm embrace. He hugged you back even tighter, then pulled away, holding you at arms length so he could look into your eyes.

“I mean it. Let yourself have this. Don’t be scared.” he coached gently.

“Thank you, Jiminie. I love you.” you smiled up at him.

“I love you too. Now go get your man.” he grinned, walking out the door and leaving you alone in the living room.

You took a deep breath and walked down the hall past Namjoon’s room, slowing as you heard crashing from inside. You knocked lightly on the door.

“Joon? You okay? Did something break?” you questioned, hand on the knob.

The door flung open and you were greeted with Namjoon’s chest as he towered over you. The look he gave you made you feel even smaller though.

“I dropped something. Not like you can complain about my noise level, Y/N.” he huffed.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” you said quietly.

“I’m fine. I actually think it might be time for me to find somewhere else to live.” he stated.

You froze, panic filling your chest.

“What?! Why?” you squeaked, tears welling in your eyes despite your urge for them to stay away.

“If you’re going to be seeing Jimin, it’s clear that you guys need your own space. I don’t want to listen to you have sex with him all the time, and I’m sure you’d appreciate the privacy.” Namjoon sighed, avoiding your eyes.

“But I… we… it’s not-” you tried, but your mouth wasn’t cooperating with your racing mind.

“It’s fine. It’s about time you got a boyfriend. It’s probably weird that we’re both single and living together.” Joon shrugged.

“No it’s not!” you argued, a pout on your lips.

“Don’t you want to fuck your boyfriend in peace without having to worry about your roommate hearing?” Joon challenged.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you blurted out.

“What?” Joon tilted his head in confusion.

“He’s not… he’s not my boyfriend. We didn’t have sex. We only pretended to. Jimin had me convinced that if I pretended to be dating him that you’d get jealous and that you’d make a move because I’m too scared to. I told him you didn’t like me and that it wasn’t going to work but he wouldn’t shut up about it, he kept saying-” you began but Namjoon cut you off.

“You made out with Jimin on our couch and pretended to have sex with him to try and make me jealous?” he clarified.

“I know it’s stupid I told him-” you rambled on, wringing your hands together anxiously.

“You didn’t fuck him.” Joon clarified one more time.

“No.” you confirmed.

“Oh thank god.” Joon sighed in relief, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

Your eyes widened in shock but you soon melted into his embrace, your entire body alive and buzzing with adrenaline. Joon guided you towards the wall until your back hit it with a gentle thud and he pushed his body closer to yours until you were flush against each other. His hands came to cup your face, thumb rubbing soft circles on your cheek. He pulled away, but remained just centimeters from your lips.

“That was extremely immature and childish.” he chided, “But it worked. I wanted to kill him.”

“Mmm…” you hummed happily.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of another man kissing you,” he sighed, letting his lips gently brush against your own. “Another man marking you,” he whispered, his kisses moving to your neck and sucking his own marks to claim you. “Another man touching you…” he trailed off, hand running down your side until his fingers brushed against your nipple, barely concealed by the thin fabric of Jimin’s shirt. Joon’s soft touch froze for a moment.

Without warning, he ripped the shirt you were wearing over your head and tossed it aside, revealing your shorts and barely-there bra. He smirked in satisfaction. “I don’t like you wearing another man’s clothes either.” he purred, bringing his lips back to the skin of your neck and allowing them to travel down to your collarbones.

Upon hearing your real whimpers, you couldn’t believe how fake you’d sounded earlier. The noises Namjoon managed to elicit from you were real, raw, and desperate. Namjoon grinned against the flesh of your collar bones, moving his kisses even lower to the swell of your breasts. Namjoon had fantasised about these breasts more times than he’d care to admit, and he was about to bust in his pants now that his fantasies were coming true. He was determined to give your body the attention and admiration it deserved.

He reached behind you and unsnapped the flimsy bralette you were wearing, letting it tumble to the floor unceremoniously. You shivered as the cool air hit your nipples, causing them to perk and harden. Or maybe that was the effect Namjoon had on you. You didn’t find time to ponder the reason because soon, he had those delectable, pillowy lips wrapped around one of the hardened buds, nimble fingers rolling the other.

A haggard moan left your lips and your head lolled back, hitting the wall while Namjoon rolled his tongue over your sensitive flesh. He let his teeth graze it gently, and your body jolted off the wall closer to his. He took the opportunity to guide you towards his bed, shoving you down onto the mattress. Your body bounced with the impact and he hovered over you, ripping his shirt off and tossing it aside. Your eyes locked on the smooth planes of his stomach. Your mouth watered as your gaze trailed lower to the trail of hair that led to the part of him you’d been dreaming about since you caught him with his hand wrapped around it.

You reached up and pulled him back down to you and Namjoon took the opportunity to slip his hand between your bodies, slipping it under the fabric of your shorts and panties.

“Mmm… so wet. Is this because of me, baby?” he grinned.

You thought about teasing him and saying it was Jimin but you’d waited too long for this moment to fuck it up now.

“All for you, Joonie.” you whined, bucking your hips up to get some friction.

“Mmm.. that’s not my name baby doll.” he smirked.

“Fuck… daddy.” you whimpered.

“That’s right baby girl.” he praised, “You want daddy to make you feel good?”

“Please.” you begged.

Namjoon smirked and began rubbing lazy circles on your clit, spreading your juices along the swollen nub. You groaned, leaning your head back. It felt so good, but it wasn’t enough. You needed to be filled.

“Fuck me, daddy.” you whined.

“So needy.” he tutted, dragging your shorts and panties off and tossing them to the floor.

He shimmied out of his shorts and boxers and your eyes locked on his cock. Thick, long, and leaking precum. Your tongue involuntarily darted along your lower lip, wetting the surface as you stared at Namjoon’s length with desire. You leaned up and tentatively licked at the tip, gathering the pre-cum on your tongue before swallowing and humming happily. Joon closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling for a moment before pushing your shoulders back.

“We can try all that later. I want to cum inside of you, and I won’t last if you wrap those pretty lips around me.” he sighed, “but let’s get you ready, hm?”

You nodded and laid back against the pillows while Namjoon slipped two fingers in your drenched hole. You moaned loudly, finally feeling something fill your aching pussy. Joon curled his fingers and pumped them in and out of you, thumb rubbing circles on your clit. His lips crashed against yours again, swallowing up your moans and whines while he finger fucked you. The ridges of his fingers sliding against your velvety walls had you in a state of bliss. It wasn’t long before the familiar fire built deep in your belly and you were rocketing over the edge. Joon worked you through your high, never relenting in the slightest until you whimpered and pushed his hand away.

“Are you ready for me, baby?” he asked.

“Yes. Yes.” you let out breathlessly.

Joon smiled and rolled the condom onto his shaft before slowly sliding inside of you. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the way Namjoon fit perfectly in your walls. You could feel everything, like he was made to be inside of you. The stretch burned for a moment, but Namjoon remained still until you were comfortable. Once you gave him the signal that it was okay to move, Namjoon held nothing back.

His hips snapped into yours at a merciless pace, making your body bounce with the impact and incoherent gibberish leave your lips. Your arms found purchase around his neck while he rode you like there was no tomorrow. Namjoon had a lot of pent up sexual frustration when it came to you and he had every intention of unleashing it on you. He brought your nipple in his mouth once more.

You didn’t think you could last long with the way Namjoon was hitting that spot inside of you with every thrust, every time his cock landed against your walls it was just right and you were a mess beneath him in minutes, writing against his movements, bucking your hips up to meet his.

A chorus of his name slipped from you like a prayer, or a chant. You didn’t know. All you knew was that Namjoon felt so good and the only thing you could focus on was him and the impending orgasm he was unleashing inside of you with his relentless thrusts. Your nails dug into his back and your walls clenched around him as your orgasm built until you were just over the edge.

Namjoon stilled inside of you, and the orgasm ebbed away. A sob escaped your throat and you looked at Namjoon in confusion. He slipped out of your heat and you felt empty at the loss. He simply smirked and moved his head to begin kissing at your inner thighs.

“Joon, what-” you tried to ask, panting.

“Mmm… only good girls get to cum.” he hummed against your thigh. “Teasing daddy by grinding on your little friend… you weren’t being a very good girl, were you, baby doll?”

“But I…” you whined.

“I know why you did it.” he nodded in agreement, “and I agree. I needed a push. But I still didn’t like seeing your sweet little cunt grinding down on him. That pussy is mine.” he growled, possessiveness filling his eyes.

“Yes, I’m all yours daddy.” you sighed.

“That’s right.” he smirked.

He moved back up your body, leaving a trail of kisses as he went until his lips met yours again. His fingers brushed teasingly along your inner thigh and dipped in your heat, pumping in and out of you at an agonizingly slow place. His knuckles grazing your walls, his hot breath in your ear, whispering dirty things like a secret for just you to know, it was all too much.

Namjoon brought you to the edge over and over again before ripping your orgasm away from you each time. Tears welled in your eyes at the frustration. You were a complete mess beneath him and he only smirked in satisfaction, lazily rubbing patterns on your sensitive clit.

“Mmm.. does my baby want to cum?” he cooed.

“Fuck. Yes. Please. Joon please please please.” you nearly cried.

“Hmmm.. do you think you’ve earned it? Has daddy punished you enough? You sure did like showing off and making me angry.”

“Please, I’m sorry. I’m yours, only yours. PLEASE.” you whined.

Namjoon hummed and seemed to think deeply about your request. He nodded in approval and soon he was pounding into you again like he’d never stopped. It didn’t take you long to reach your end after that, so riled up and sensitive from the edging. You were so close, so close again.

“Cum for daddy.” Namjoon breathed in your ear, his voice low and husky.

You screamed his name as your vision went white hot and your back arched off the bed. Blissful euphoria enveloped your whole body while Joon rode out your high with you, soon meeting his own end. You were panting breathlessly to the point your lungs were burning as you both came back down. Joon discarded the condom and wrapped his arms around you, gently smoothing your hair away from your face and whispering encouraging things to you.

“You did so well for me baby.” he praised, kissing your forehead.

You nodded, snuggling closer into his frame. You were too exhausted to formulate a reply. Your brain was jello after the fucking of a lifetime you’d just recieved. Joon held you quietly, hands roaming tenderly to soothe your aching muscles. You leaned into his touch and when your heart finally returned to its’ normal rhythm, you looked up into his eyes.

“You know, I’m kind of thankful for Jimin.” Joon spoke.

“Hmm?” you questioned.

“I think if it weren’t for you assholes trying to make me jealous, I would’ve never pulled my head out of my ass.” he sighed. “I was just so scared that you wouldn’t feel the same way and I didn’t want to ruin everything we had, you know? You’re so important to me, Y/N. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

“You won’t ever lose me.” you confirmed, fire in your eyes and passion in your voice. “But I get it. I was scared too.”

“Every time I see you, I get these words stuck in my head. All it is is 8 letters and I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, Y/N, but I was terrified of being rejected.” he admitted, eyes downcast.

“Joonie?” you whispered warily, moving your head back so you could look into his eyes.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you.”

“I love you.” he smiled, kissing the tip of your nose

You bit your lip to try and hide the smile threatening to cover your face while looking into Namjoon’s eyes.

“But if Jimin ever puts his hands on you again I will kill him.” Namjoon grumbled.

You giggled and hid your face in his chest.

“I love you.” you repeat, unable to find a better response, and to be honest, it just felt good to say it out loud after all this time.

Joon’s grumpy expression morphed into one of fondness and affection, he caressed your cheek in his large hand, bringing his lips gently to yours in a chaste kiss.

“I love you too.” he sighed happily. . “So very much.”

#kim namjoon #namjoon #bts #smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #rm #rm x reader #rm smut #bts smut

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secondhand-trash · 4 years ago

Text

A/N: words cannot described how entertained I was when I was writing this...

Warning: suggestive themes

Word count: 1888

(click here to see more of Osamu’s bento)

(taglist in the notes, please go to the link in my bio or send me an ask to be added to the bento taglist uwu)

Previously...

You were so determined to tell him everything as it was, but you immediately didn’t have the heart to do it when you were met with his round eyes fixed on you.

You had it coming…

“Yeah,” you said, “we are going through this real big project right now and everyone is on edge.”

He took your hand and pressed it against his cheek. You smiled as he leaned into your touch, caressing his jaw with your thumb. He was lucky that he’s cute, you thought to yourself, silently deciding that maybe you would try to be a little bit more openminded the next time he turned your lunch into a meme canvas.

“Then I should try to bring you some excitement with your bento then! Something that both taste good and can motivate you visually!”

You might have deliberately left out that the true reason to your exasperation was the fact that your brain was squeezed dry after playing a game of edible pictionary under Osamu’s drive, but you didn’t exactly lied about anything either. There was really a big project your department was undergoing and it was pushing everyone’s mental well-being to the edge. Your friend, the one who sat at the cubicle opposite to yours, nearly had a meltdown in the office the other day because the drafts of a powerpoint was printed in greyscale instead of in colour. The head of the department, a middle aged man who looked like a round department store mascot and never raises his voice, was heard sobbing in his office after getting off a conference call with the management board. Needless to say, you had been walking on eggshells in every waking minute and you felt like you had aged by years just from theses few days.

The only bit of joy you had in the office was the short 30 minutes you were mercifully given each day to fuel your body with food so you could continue to be tortured by work. Osamu kept his promise with changing up what was in your bento every single day with no repeats. Making count of what you had seen in your bento had become part of your daily routine. You had gotten several different pepes, a few cat memes and some very ambiguous looking faces (most of which you assumed to be him). You were hesitant to accept his new hobby of using your lunch as a creative outlet but now you appreciate it to no end.

Slamming the door shut, you placed your palm flat on the wall and sighed as the soreness in all the muscles you did not know was in your body started getting worse and worse.

God could give you 48 hours in a day and it still wouldn’t be enough.

“I’m home...” you muttered, kicking your shoes to the side as you limped into the living room.

Osamu appeared from the doorway and took your bag from your hand. You groaned at the weight that was finally off of your shoulder, rolling your neck to feel each joint cracking. He caught you in his arms swiftly when you latched onto him, putting all your weight on him as you allow your tired legs the rest they needed.

“Urgh...” your voice came out as an inaudible noise as you groaned into his chest, rubbing your face against the fabric of his shirt. He let your bag fell onto the ground with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around you as he felt you sinking deeper into his embrace, “if it goes on like this I’m not going to live to see tomorrow’s sunrise..."

You whined as he rubbed soothing circles on your back, the warmth reaching from his palm to your body. You felt your limbs slowly reviving under his touch, his hand trailing from your back to your shoulder blades then down your spine again. You could feel the rumbling from his chest as he spoke, his voice low by your ear and his breath ticking your neck, “Do you need me to give you some motivation?”

A sound that resembled a choked moan slipped from your lips when his hand pressed down at a particularly stiff spot on your back, “Please do.”

The corner of his lips curled up at your breathy reply. Brushing your hair away with his finger, he dipped down to the sensitive skin of your exposed neck.

“Can you make nanban chicken for tomorrow’s bento?”

He froze in place at your request. Ah, you had taken his suggestion towards a completely different direction. He thought that he sounded pretty sexy when he was whispering in your ear but perhaps the suggestive tone lacing his words went lost in your tired brain.

He bite back the sigh that was threatening to leak out, “Of course.”

Osamu didn’t try to initiate anything again the next couple of days, mostly because you came back looking like your soul had flown away from your body every single night that he felt bad for even thinking about doing anything that might tire you out even more. Was it bad that the thought of not being able to do anything actually made him even needier? Perhaps. But it had been a while and quite a while since you had done anything intimate and being a normal young man with normal needs, he felt like the even the slightest bit of skinship he could get from you was setting off something indescribable in him.

Like right now, on the long weekend that he had been looking forward to every day for the past week, he swore he would combust if you shifted around next to him for just one more time on your couch that felt particularly crowded today.

You smelt so nice, he silently thought to himself as he buried his nose in your hair, and your skin was so warm. Your body fit against his perfectly, each sharp corner and soft bump molded together like the world created you two to fit with each other like this.

This was good, and all he needed was a slight push...

His arm around your waist tightened and his hand started wandering to the side of your thigh, "You know, it’s been a while since we... you know...”

He tried his hardest to not press against you when you pushed your hips back as you turned around to face him, “Hm?”

“And I miss you...” his voice was dripping with honey as his lips ghosted over where your ear connected to your neck.

You grinned, feeling the way he got more and more handsy all over you, “Is that so?”

Osamu felt his chest swelling when you didn’t push him away, “Uhm.”

Your hand was on his toned chest as you slowly sat up and he couldn’t help but let out a heavy breath in anticipation when you inched towards him.

He nearly lost balance and fell off the couch when the doorbell rang.

He wanted to scream when you perked up, snapping towards the door in excitement, “Oh it must be my parcel!”

A million different curses in all the languages he didn’t know he knew ran through his head as you leaped out of his arms, leaving his hand hanging in the air as you hopped over to the door.

His eyes followed your frame like a puppy who got kicked to the side as you, not sparing him a glance, happily walked into your room with the card box in your hand.

Running his hand down his face, he let out a muffled groan as his plan was spoiled. Throwing his head back in frustration, he felt the dread building up inside of him when he felt the familiar stuffiness in his pants.

Oh. Oh hello.

Not that you were aware, but he had gotten rather familiar with the shower and its temperature settings the past week and as he once again shivered under the cold water that rained on his head like a waterfall, he contemplated the possibility of being drowned in a cold shower.

Your hand was shaking as you moved the mouse so that the arrow on the screen hovered over the send button.

Was this all? Was there anything you needed to add? You paused, your mind in a state of blank before your finger bounced against the key. You stared while the page buffered, before it returned to your mailbox.

You blinked, processing this sudden overwhelming feeling that was the fact that there was nothing you needed to do anymore.

It’s over. The earlier hollowness caught up to you in the form of thundering joy and trumpets going off in your head. You finished up everything.

You could not help the little squeal that you let out as you stretched your arms wide, rolling your shoulders bac to reward them for carrying you through. Clasping your hand together, you almost felt like humming when you saw that it was just in time for lunch.

You could not be in a better mood. Your work was done and you managed to get it cleared out before lunch. How long had it been since you last had the leisure to really savour your food instead of gulping it down to squeeze out more time?

You paused when you opened the lid of the bento, tilting your head to the side as you took in the very oddly shaped onigiri that was sitting in the center.

Hm- oh? Oh.

You scrambled to shut the box up with flailing hands when you realised what it actually was, looking around in panic to check if anyone had seen what was inside just then.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck?

What was he thinking? Your chest was pounding and your face was steaming with embarrassment at the very visual representation of the last thing that was safe for being shown in the office. How the hell would he think that this was a good idea?

Sliding your lower body off your chair, you carefully lifted up the corner of the lid so that you could peak inside to confirm your suspicion.

For fuck sake.

You attracted the bewildered gaze of a few concerned colleagues when you flopped down onto your desk, hiding your burning face on the cold surface to calm down your mind that was going haywire from what you have noticed in addition to the what you had figured out earlier.

That dummy did not model it after his own...

You were not sure if you wanted to be angry or amused when Osamu gingerly, but also a bit anticipatingly poked his head out from the doorway to observe you from afar when you came home that night.

All that was left was for him to have a tall to wag behind him when he stared at you with his round eyes like he wanted to say something but was also too scared to bring it up.

“Samu.”

He immediately stood up straight, “Yes?”

“I’ll give you 10 seconds to explain yourself.”

He blinked, his eyes skittering around the room before focusing back on you, “Was it not obvious enough?”

You found yourself unable to question his logic. Palming yourself, you did not know if laughing was the right reaction when he snuck up next to you and very awkwardly pulled you closer to him before resting his chin on your shoulder, looking up at you with a look that he deemed to be extremely irresistable.

Fine, he looked kind of cute.

You wanted to smack him when he very eagerly latched onto you when you turned to face him, his hands being everything but well-behaved as he leaned over to kiss you square on the lips.

His eyes widened when you put your hand on his face right when he was almost touching you.

“Should I worry about you doing that again?”

He shook his head frantically, looking at you from behind his bangs with a pleading look.

You laughed, before moving your hand away and let him close the distance between your lips.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu imagine #miya osamu imagines

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scandeniall · 4 years ago

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not a good day

pairing: akaashi x reader

summary/warnings: um yeah i was sad yesterday, started this. idk sad!reader. this isnt edited at all and idk if it even makes sense

wc: 981

The art of attentive listening is one Akaashi considered himself to be an expert at. In fact, he priced himself on the ability to listen and read others and work accordingly. It’s a skill first developed during his volleyball days, and even now as an editor he uses it frequently . When a writer says one thing he can easily decipher the underlying meaning.

However, Akaashi would admit to anyone who asked that it was you to help him fine tune the ability. Listening to your hopes and dreams, fears as happiness. Listening is what built trust and that is ultimately the foundation of love

Akaashi knew the day was not a good one the first glimpse he caught of you. He’d woken up due to a clap of thunder so loud and deadly that it shook the structure of your house. Wiping the accumulated sleep out of his eyes he glanced up, his eyes narrowing on the 3am displayed in red. Shifting to his other side, he’d been met with the back of his love.

Akaashi watched in silence for a moment before his forehead crinkled in confusion. He shifted his body closer to your back, before propping up on one shoulder to peer down at you. He wordlessly presses a kiss onto your own cheek, mumbling a soft “I love you” in your ear.

He watched the tiniest movements in your body as you inhaled and exhaled. He knew you were awake and he knew the tell tale signs that today would be one of those days. By the way you blinked all to easily he could tell you’d been up for quite a while. The stillness in your body told him movement was entirely too draining. The way your eyes seemed hyper focused on the darkest corner of the bedroom told him that your mind waged its own storm similar to the one outside. Akaashi knew today would not be a good day and he picked up on that the first glimpse he saw of you.

The morning came and the storm continued. It was now nearing 10 am. As Akaashi sat up he’d noticed a change in your movements within the last few hours. While only your lower half had been covered my the comforter, now it had been pulled over your head and your body cocooned.

He wordlessly peeled the fabric away from your face to barely brush his lips over yours. “Do you want to be alone for now,” at the nod he bit back his own sigh before agreeing. The decision to leave you alone was one that came over time. Listening to the fact that you preferred to spend dark days alone paired with his insistence that he would always be here. It was easier before the two of you resided in the same house. Much easier to shut off your phone and for him to go run errands and return to his own home. Now he was forced to watch you in frustration yet respect your own wishes. However, you’d managed to compromise. He agreed to check in on you every few hours in between going about his own day.

By the time lunch time rolled around akaashi had decided to make his first check in of the day. He sat the sleeve of crackers and leftover soup on the bedside table before turning his attention. You’d managed to go from your side to rest on your stomach, the pillow covering your head. You heard his soft greeting as you felt the dip in the bed.

“I brought some lunch up.” The words were accompanied by a warm hand slipping under both the cover and your shirt to rest on your back. When he revived no response, Akaashi opted for rubbing comforting circles across the expanse of your back. “(Y/N). You should eat something.” He carefully moved the pillow away to get a look at your own tear stained face.

You watched with bleary eyes as Akaashi briefly locked his own jaw before letting out a sigh. The hand on your back had halted its motions before it moved to stroke the skin of your cheek. “I’m here when you need me.” After a nod, his lips found the corner of your mouth before he made his own exit.

Night came before either of you knew it, and Akaashi had given up on getting you out of the bed for the day. As he neared the end of his Netflix show he’d decided to call get it an early night. But before, he could tune out and find his way back beside you a dip in the couch caught his attention.

“Hey,” The words came out horse. An effect of not using your vocal cords for the day paired with the silent crying. Carefully Akaashi made a movement to get cider and once he knew it were ok to do so his arm found its way around you and your neck buried in his shoulder. The follow up to one of your bad days was routine and this was the first step at getting you back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Akaashi found himself nodding at your promise of later before pressing a kiss to your clothed shoulder. Minute by monthly found yourself relaxing more into his touch as the two of you started another episode. The warmth he’d missed from you paired with the ultra soft blanket you said the living room had to have.

Slowly you began to offer your own bits of commentary on the show, him nodding along and occasionally offering a whisper of his own. Akaashi knew you were back once you’d finally placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“Thank you for everything”

“I’m always here”

On days like this, those words conveyed all the love, and affirmation that either of you could need.

a/n: yeah um im coming back from my vacation soon so ill probs get back to really writing soon

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu imagine #akaashi x reader #akaashi imagine #hq imagines #haikyuu imagines

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sdottkrames · 4 years ago

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We have seen each other through it all

By: @sdottkrames for @an-odd-idea, my pinchitting for @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: general

Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker, Tony Stark & May Parker & Peter Parker

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, May Parker

Summary: Peter's first year at MIT was a bit harder than he anticipated, and Tony plans a road trip to help his spider-son feel better. But of course, there's some mishaps along the way!

Link to AO3: Here

“Tony, I thought this was supposed to be fun ?” Peter tried to grin, but it turned into more of a grimace through his chattering teeth.

“Yeah, it was. Until this hunk of junk decided to quit working.” Tony gestured to the heater in the corner of their motel room, which was wheezing and sputtering in an attempt to stave off the cold of the Wyoming winter. It wasn’t working. Tony had tried to fix it, multiple times, but it was so broken there was no repairing it. It needed to be completely replaced. He and Peter had decided to tough it out in favor of getting sleep, but they were quickly regretting that decision since neither of them were sleeping.

The pair fell silent, their breaths making clouds in the air. Tony could hear Peter’s teeth chattering and Friday reminded him quietly in his earpiece that spiders couldn’t thermoregulate. Tony forced himself out of the relative warmth of the ratty, though thick, blanket he was under and went in search of another one. He hissed as the little warmth of the blanket was abandoned, but pressed on.

What I wouldn’t do for this kid, he thought ruefully as he walked to the closet, which ended up being empty. Every closet was bare, and the front desk had already given them their allotted one extra blanket each. Tony groaned quietly and headed back to the bedroom, looking at the lump that was Peter on one of the two twin beds.

“FRI, how’s he doing?” He asked his AI, panicking a little when he didn’t hear Peter’s chattering.

“Peter’s temperature has dropped to 96 degrees Fahrenheit. Hypothermia occurs at 95 degrees. I suggest warming Mr. Parker up as soon as possible.”

Tony cursed. Last Christmas, Peter’s first Christmas back after the blip, had seen record cold temperatures. New York had nearly frozen. But when May and Peter’s heater broke, they hadn’t said a thing. May too proud to admit she needed help, and Peter too unsure of himself to ask for it. That had ended badly. Tony had received a panicked phone call from May when she came home from working at the hospital to find Peter barely conscious and ice cold. They had learned the hard way that their spider baby couldn’t thermoregulate. It had taken nearly three cups of hot chocolate, 5 blankets, and lots of cuddling to revive Peter.

Cuddling.

In a stroke of inspiration (and kicking himself that he hadn’t thought of it sooner), Tony grabbed the blankets from his bed and padded over to Peter’s.

“Scoot over, underoos,” he said, nudging the kid’s side.

Peter sluggishly rolled over, and Tony threw his two blankets over him, then crawled under the small pile. The warmth from their shared bodies and the extra blankets was almost immediate. They both sighed in shared contentment at the same time. He quickly wrapped his arms around Peter, rubbing briskly to encourage warmth.

“Are you s-s-sure you’re okay w-with this?”

Tony shook his head. Even after all the movie nights Peter had fallen asleep on him, the cuddles last winter, the hugs Tony had given him, the kid still didn’t believe he deserved to be loved and held and taken care of.

“How many movies are you going to fall asleep squished into my side before you believe that I really don’t mind it?”

Peter hummed unintelligibly in response, and Tony felt him burrow closer, Peter’s face finding a home in Tony’s neck, the soft curls tickling Tony’s nose. Peter’s eyes drooped shut.

“Alright, I know you’re tired, but no sleeping until we get your temperature up, okay?”

Peter nodded, but his eyes stayed closed.

“Okay, bud, talk to me. What’s been your favorite part of this trip so far?”

Peter lifted his head, and Tony grinned as he saw a little more light in the young hero’s eyes. It took a minute for Peter to think. Tony guessed it must be a hard decision. They’d been on the road for almost a week, and had stopped in a different spot every night. Philadelphia, the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame, Chicago, the St Louis arch, Mt. Rushmore. It had been a fun trip, albeit a bit chilly, but tonight had taken a turn for the worst.

The wind whipped outside their window, accentuating the thought and making Tony shiver. It was cold enough inside, he didn’t even want to think about the outside.

“I’ve loved all of it, but mostly just because I’ve been able to spend time with you.” Peter’s voice was small and unsure, but Tony’s eyes burned with tears he quickly tried to blink away as his heart melted . What had he done to ever deserve this kid? Suddenly, the bed felt a whole lot warmer.

“Don’t go making me soft, kid,” Tony joked, but his voice was thick and his arms tightened around Peter.

“You’re already soft, old man.”

Tony scoffed. “Alright. If you have enough energy to crack jokes, you’re warm enough to sleep.” Just to be safe, though, he called out to Friday. “What’s his temp, Fri?”

“97.8 degrees Fahrenheit.”

“Bedtime for the spider baby!” Tony said, and Peter made a few snuffling noises as he burrowed impossibly closer to Tony. Within a few seconds, Peter’s breathing had evened out and Tony knew he was off in dream land.

Tony took a few moments reveling in the warmth and comfort of holding his son before he drifted off as well.

***

“Tony, they are huge !! Like, I knew they were big, but they’re ginormous!”

Tony chuckled as they continued driving through Yellowstone national park, just 10 feet from a herd of buffalo (the cause of Peter's excitement).

This was exactly why he had planned this trip with Peter. Peter had come home from his first semester at MIT and Tony had instantly known something was wrong. There was a spark missing from those doe eyes, he spoke a little less, picked at his food a little more. It had worried Tony sick. So when May had suggested the two of them take a road trip together during Pete’s three week Christmas holiday, he had jumped at the opportunity. He instantly knew it was the right decision when Peter’s eyes lit up as they planned their trip. Tony let Peter pick all the spots, too excited by Peter’s excitement to shoot down any idea.

“Can we go see the geysers next? Old faithful has been on my bucket list for forever!”

“Sure, kid.” How could anyone say no?

Peter continued to stare and smile.

***

“You’re going to kill me. You’re actually going to kill me. When I die, I’m going to haunt you so bad.”

“Pete, if you can survive the vulture and green goblin, you can survive the bunny hill.”

Peter grabbed Tony’s arm, panic overwhelming him. He couldn’t seem to stand up right on his skis, and there were so many people around. He was sure that he would fall and someone would ski right over his hands or legs, or he would run into someone and knock them over and be left with crippling embarrassment.

“Nice and easy, underoos. The hill isn’t that steep. If you start going too fast, move your skis like this,” Tony turned his skis horizontal. “You’ll stop pretty quick, okay? I’m gonna stay with you the whole way, I promise.”

Peter swallowed and nodded, slowly inching his way down the hill.

Tony had learned how to ski many years ago. His father had deemed it below the Stark name, so Tony made a point to learn as a way to rebel and had fallen in love with the sport. Living in Malibu had hindered his ability to really practice, but he went once a year to Colorado or Utah and spent a week on the slopes, usually joined by Rhodey. When they’d planned the trip, Tony asked to stop at his favorite resort in Colorado, and Peter had enthusiastically agreed.

Now he seemed to be second guessing it.

“Pete, it’s okay.”

“But what if I’m not good?” Peter looked at Tony with such open vulnerability, and Tony’s heart ached for the anxiety he could see in Peter's eyes.

“Listen, the first time I skied, I fell on my butt more times than I can count. More times than I want to count. Everyone falls down the first time! If you fall, nobody is going to laugh, I promise.”

Well, Tony lied. Because when he fell, Peter laid there giggling, his worries forgotten in the thrill of speeding downhill, and Tony couldn’t help but laugh along. Then he fell down and it made them laugh even harder. It was a good 5 minutes before they were able to get up and ski again.

When they got back to their hotel room (thankfully one with a working heater), their noses red and legs sore, they collapsed together onto the couch. Tony automatically put his arm around Peter, and he felt the young hero snuggle closer.

“Are you having a good time, buddy?” He asked, his hand running through Peter's soft curls. Peter moaned quietly, his body slumping as the tension left under Tony’s gentle ministrations.

“Yeah, the best.”

***

It wasn’t until the second to last day of their trip that disaster struck again. They were driving in the middle of nowhere Iowa, Peter was asleep while Tony listened softly to AC/DC to keep himself awake, when suddenly Peter bolted up, wide awake.

“Everything alright Pete?” Tony asked.

”Bag. I need a bag,” Peter’s eyes were wide with panic as he looked for a plastic bag, and Tony knew exactly what was happening. He quickly pulled over, and Peter jumped out before the car was stopped. Tony got out and walked around, rubbing Peter’s back as he heaved into the snow.

“Get it all out, Pete. It’s okay.”

“This is so embarrassing,” Peter moaned.

“Oh, if you only knew how much Rhodey had to see me puke. Have fun your freshman year, but not that much fun,” Tony said, soothing his hand in circles across Peter’s back. “Feel better?”

“A little weak, and my stomach hurts still, but I think I’m okay to keep going,” Peter said, his legs shaking as he stood up. Tony looked on in concern, but Peter wouldn’t meet his eyes as they walked to the car. He hugged his arms around his middle, effectively closing himself off, so Tony let it slide to not embarrass him further.

They drove on in quiet for about a half hour, and Tony’s concern just continued to grow. “Pete, you know I’m being serious that you don’t need to be embarrassed, right? You musta eaten something bad. It’s okay, bud. We’ll just stop and get you some nausea medicine at the next Convenience store. It’s really no big deal.”

Peter didn’t lift his head. “I hate that you keep having to take care of me.”

“Whatdya mean?”

“I mean, like, you invented time travel for me! You nearly died for me. And then I can’t even handle college by myself because I just miss you so much.” By now, Peter was crying. Tears streamed down his face, and Tony had to use every ounce of his self control not to take his hands off the wheel to wipe them off. “And classes are so hard, and I just...I don’t know what I want to do with my life and I feel like I will just fail and disappoint you and May. And you take me on this trip to make me feel better,” he glanced at Tony. “I know you did it because you could tell I was having a hard time, so don’t try and deny it. And then you have to take care of me cause I can’t freaking thermoregulate and I’m scared to ski and then my stomach hates me,” he broke off in a sniffle, seeming to deflate after laying down the burden he’d apparently been holding on to for months.

Tony let the silence marinate for a minute before reaching out a hand and placing it on Peter’s knees. “Peter I need you to listen and really get this into your thick head, okay? I do not regret for a single instant going back through time to save you. When I lost you…” Tony pressed his lips together and willed back the panic inside him, though he knew Peter could hear his heart rate change. “It was the worst moment of my life. Having you back is the greatest gift in the world because you complete my family, Pete. So I don’t regret anything. And as for taking care of you, bud, I literally signed up for it when I decided to give you that suite. I made you my responsibility. And I don’t regret that either.”

He glanced at Peter and was relieved to see a watery smile on the kid’s face, so he pushed on. “And as for school, it’s hard your first semester. It is. But you are doing much better than you think you are.”

“Really?” Peter asked, his voice breaking.

“Guarantee it. And I promise you, you will never disappoint me or May.” He grinned at Peter, before amending his statement. “Well, we were pretty disappointed when you ran into a burning building with no back up, but you will never be a failure to us. You don’t need to be perfect or know exactly what you want to do right now. We love you just the way you are, bambino .”

Peter sniffled. “Okay.”

Tony squeezed Peter’s leg. “Well, now we got that outta the way, how bout some tunes?”

Peter laughed and plugged his phone in, playing some AC/DC softly. He was asleep again by the time they got to their next hotel, and Tony gently shook him awake.

“Ugh,” Peter groaned, before his eyes shot open and he desperately searched for a trash can. His eyes zeroed in on one by the hotel entrance and he rushed over, barely making it there before his stomach emptied its meager contents.

“Alright kid. Let’s get you to bed,” Tony said, rubbing Peter’s back, and guided him gently to the front desk and then their hotel room.

Peter flopped onto the bed and started snoring almost immediately. Tony shook his head at Peter’s ability to fall asleep instantaneously. With the sound of his son’s soft snores in the background, Tony brushed his teeth and changed into his pajamas. He figured Peter would probably have to throw up again eventually, so he laid Peter’s things out and let him rest for now.

Sure enough, Tony woke to the squeak of the bed and the click of the bathroom light, followed closely by the sound of retching.

“Oh, bud,” Tony sighed. Peter’s face was filled with tears again, and his forehead was shimmery with sweat. “You’re really not feeling good, are you.”

Peter shook his head.

“Alright. First things first, do you think you can get up to rinse the gross taste out of your mouth?”

Peter did, and Tony flushed the toilet and grabbed the clothes he’d laid out earlier.

“Okay. Let’s get you into some comfier clothes now.”

Tony helped Peter changed into his pajamas, Peter feeling too sick to be embarrassed. He wasn’t too sick to squeak in surprise, though, when Tony slid his arms under Peter’s, lifting the boy up.

“Tony! What’re you doing?”

“Carrying you to bed, spider baby.”

Peter sighed, and wrapped his legs around Tony’s waist, laying his head on Tony’s shoulders. It was exactly how Ben used to carry him when he was little. It was comforting to be held like that again. Being sick always made Peter feel like a kid again, just wanting to be held and coddled, and he forced back the embarrassment so he could fully enjoy the experience.

“Stop that,” Tony said, digging his fingers into Peter’s sides.

“Stop what?” Peter mumbled into Tony’s neck.

“I can literally feel you overthinking and feeling bad. I do not mind taking care of you; in fact, I enjoy it. So there!”

“Okay,” he whispered. Then added. “Thank you, Tony.”

Tony gently placed Peter onto the bed and smoother his hair back. “Not a problem, okay?” He moved to grab a water bottle and the medicine they’d gotten earlier. “Take some of this, and we’ll go back to bed. Hopefully this is just a 24 hour bug and you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

Peter took the medicine, but didn’t feel like going back to sleep. “Actually, do you think we could watch something?”

“Sure, bud. Whatever you want.”

As the soft sounds of Animal Planet enveloped the two, as Peter allowed himself to relax into Tony’s side, Peter willed himself to focus on Tony’s assurances. He committed those words to memory, something concrete, tattooed onto his very being.

Tony ran his hands through Peter’s head, scratching softly and making Peter’s eyes droop in pleasure, and soon they were both asleep.

***

Peter crashed into Tony, giving him the tightest hug. Tony hugged right back, just as tight.

“Thank you, Tony. I really had a good time,” he said, trying to hide the stupid tears filling his eyes by nuzzling into Tony’s shoulder.

Tony wasn’t fooled. He pulled Peter away and gently wiped his cheek. “No problem, bambino. Remember what I said. You’re never a burden. You’re never a failure. You got this.”

He and Peter had had a couple more conversation reiterating those truths, and they’d brought May into it on the way to drop Peter back off at MIT. They’d determined that Peter would come home one weekend a month, and they would go visit him one weekend as well. Peter had forced back the guilt and just allowed their love to fill him.

He hugged Tony once more, pulling May in for a group hug before giving her one of her own.

“Bye baby,” she said. “I love you so much. And if you need anything, I’m right there.”

“Me too, underoos,” Tony chimed.

“I know,” he said, and meant it. With Tony and May in his corner, he could do anything.

#the friendly neighborhood exchange #mine #i love my iron dad and spidey son #tw vomiting

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thenixart · 4 years ago

Text

Unedited dorohedoro fic- Chapter 1 part 2

A/N: Characters will get names when I come up with names. I am open to suggestions.

When Ton wakes he’s warm and comfortable and kinda hungry. The horror of the last day felt almost like a bad dream. He turns over ready to go back to sleep and maybe have a better dream when he sees it and the dam bursts. On his bed stand is a photo of people he’d half forgotten and a calendar date that he still very clearly remembered.

Today was the day that his father died. Today is the day his family was shattered.

What a cruel place to dump him.

Forcing himself to leave the lovely warmth of his covers he grabbed the framed photo. It was his family… his first one that is. He’s at the center of the picture sitting in his father’s lap and his father is in turn sitting on the ground and leaning on his pet hog. His mother behind them looking proud. On their left was Ushishimada being picked up by his mom and mighty devils was it weird to see him with hair again. And flanking them their many aunties and uncles and the other kids. Not blood but family all the same.

His eyes burned and tears fell onto the glass of the picture frame. After some hesitation Ton takes the photo and gently folds it before putting it into his pajama pocket. Real or not he wanted to keep it with him this time.

He doesn’t want to get out of bed. His inner child offers up the suggestion that maybe nothing bad will happen if he’s not there to witness it. But Ton knows better than that.

Ton slinks out of bed and is immediately thrown by how different his body is. So small and soft and unmarred by the stresses of homlessness and starvation that are waiting in his future. He really is just seven years old again.

He sees his childhood home on the day of the end with the eyes of a battle hardened warrior and not an already grieving child. The entire farm is tense with the quiet before a battle. A siege is what it looks like as he sees from the window uncle [Animal transformation magic] setting traps on the perimeter. His auntie [temperature control magic]’s forge putting out tons of Smoke as she pushed herself much harder than usual while Ushishimada raced back and forth from the forge to the field carrying pieces of armor to auntie [animal control magic] fitted the bigger animals with it.

As Ton passes rooms that would normally be crammed with the sounds of people he notices the emptiness. People’s things are packed up and there’s barely any humans or magicless mages left on the premises. Humans… What was his family’s dealings with humans? The answer didn’t come readily to his mind, only that there’d been humans and others without magic who came and went for reasons he was never really told. Ushishimada had been older, maybe he knew?

He left the children’s house to cross the yard to the main house. Ton noted the absence of the chickens which would normally be crowing at this time or running around begging for treats. The sows and cows were gone too. One of the hunting dogs clad in pointy, scribbled on armor greeted him enthusiastically before being called back over to auntie [animal control magic]’s side. Her door, there was no mistaking the elegantly carved wood with the hand painted looking singing animals covering it, was steadily dissolving by the door. Unbidden a chuckle came to him at the mental image of a bunch of farm animals getting dumped in the Hole for their safety. Hmm well, certainly whoever the enemy was they probably wouldn’t be able tell the difference between their humans and sorcerers who couldn’t do magic amongst so many like them.

The main house (damn his family really had some money and he never noticed before) was a house in mourning. Ushishimada’s mom was on the couch in the sitting room with his cousin [tiger mask human cousin] and her human friend, Akane. [Ushi’s mom] was putting the finishing touches on some masks for them, a black tiger and red hen respectively. It was as equally clear that she’d been crying recently as it was that the older kids were very much pretending that nothing was wrong. And from the hatchets strapped to the woman’s armor it was also clear that she expected fighting to start soon.

They greeted him warmly if concerningly affectionate. Like they may never see him again… and well... he never did see them again did he?

He heads towards his parents’ room slowly. Something about the hush making him want to tread quietly. And he wants to put this off as much as possible.

At the almost closed door he overhears a private conversation.

“At least I’ll see the bastard in Hell,” A voice like a walking mountain rumbles. Quietly Ton brushes away the tears that started falling fresh. From the richness of the baritone and the subtle clacking of tusks on tusks there was no mistaking his father’s voice for anyone else. The man’s breathing sounds labored even from a distance.

A woman’s voice… his mother’s voice responded. Low and thick and sharp like molasses. “That may be what happens, but that’s not remotely fair. And damn the devils for it.”

“You know, you can go to jail for saying such things,” His father half chuckled and half wheezed. “And Hell’s no place for a sweet thing like you.”

She snorted incredulously and playfully swatted his arm, “Really? Flirting at a time like this? What a pig.”

“Wild boar, thank you very much.” He retorted. It was a routine clearly familiar to them. Ton saw through the crack in the door their fingers intertwining. His father’s pale chubby ones slotted into his mother’s dark work roughened ones looking almost like a piano.

His mother leaned in conspiratorially and asked in a tone he strained to hear, “Your magic… could you…?”

His father’s magic? To be honest Ton couldn’t remember what kind of magic his father had at all. Nor his mother’s for that matter.

“Hmmm no,” his father answered after some thought. “That mushroom bastard killed Kokuo. Without a proper anchor… I wouldn’t be able to stay myself. I’d only end up causing more harm than good.” He sighed wistfully, “Besides, with this kind of magic… it’s best to go when your time’s up.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“Tell me again… what happens to humans when you die?”

You? Was his mother…?

“Well, now, unlike you sorcerers none of us has the power to revive the dead.So no one really knows for certain. Lots of folks think that if you are an evil person you go to a hell for a while and if you are a good you get to be reborn as something or someone else. There’s also the heavens, where good people go for like, eternal rewards of some boring shit like that. Some of the monks think that if you’re like, holy enough you stop being reborn and simply cease to be? Spiritually? Or something?”

“Oh?”

“I don’t really get the appeal. Of just ceasing. Why not just live different lives for all of eternity?”

“That does sound nice. Far more lenient than our fate.”

“Course there’s always stuff like ghosts and limbo and all that.”

“Limbo?”

“It's a kinda state the dead enter sometimes before they move on. A nowhere place where ghosts are born. Angry souls that refuse to rest or simply folks that have some business to finish before they do. No one ever really makes happy stories about it. ...I wish I could meet you again in my next life.”

His father hummed, “That would be lovely.”

Before he could catch himself Ton sniffled.

“Hey pigglet! Come give yer daddy a hug!” His father boomed like his lungs weren’t failing him. Ton pushed open the door to see his mother helping to prop up his father so that the big man’s back was against the headboard. Right, somehow his mind impressed the date of his father’s death but the method had slipped into the sands of time. There was something extremely unnerving seeing a good portion of the man’s chest just… crumbling. Large portions of it were bendaged as best as possible but the web of cracks extended past the edges, the affected skin dry irritated and flakey. Bits fell off when his father breathed just a bit too deeply, creating what Ton could imagine was just the worst bed experience of crumbs in your sheets but grosser. In the places where the magic had completely eaten through the skin he could see shiny white pockets of fat crisscrossed with fungal hyphae. There is no shortage to the horror that settles into Ton’s gut that his father would have likely died days ago if he were a leaner man.

It also doesn’t escape him that his mother is dressed for war. Combat boots and sections of scale armor over her hunting clothes. The vital bits of course, the major organs of the torso and places with large arteries like the neck, upper arms and thighs. Her crossbow, and a full quiver of arrows, her hunting knife (a beautiful knife he needed to commission someone to make him a copy at some point it was fucking watered steel!), and a pair of pistols… emergency weapons.

Ton had nothing against guns, he was a damn good shot himself but he’d hunted with his mother. Guns were noisy and dulled your ability to hear after using them. And the smell of gunsmoke dulls the nose (not that you could actually smell anything but the boss when fighting at his side). His mother was fond of saying that any of your senses could provide you with life saving information so it was best to avoid impairing them unless you had no other choice.

And it looked like his mother was expecting the worst.

At her hip was her mask that looked like she’d given the black leather a fresh shine. The snarling panther maw was a thing of beauty, something his father thought as well as his tattoo of it still shone proudly on his father’s remaining properly intact shoulder. Mask...human. Huh. Actually if his mother was human then so was his cousin [tiger mask] and her friend Akane too. Ton supposed having masks in this world were useful to humans, they’d be mistaken for mages and less likely to be attacked or sold. But why wear it to a fight? It wasn’t a helmet like Tetsujo’s mask, it didn’t offer up much protection.

His mother kissed him softly on the forehead and the gleam of her necklace caught his eye. Speaking of things that weren’t very helpful on the battlefield… the necklace was more like thick twine dyed black with colorful beads, fine enough. But then there was the claw hanging from it that had to be about as long as a uni-bear claw and curved like a cat’s. Ton didn’t know if it was real, it kinda looked like it was made of stone of some kind, but it certainly looked sharp. Sometimes Ton’s brain liked to throw the image of her accidentally getting stabbed or cut by that claw because sometimes brains are assholes like that. It never did as far as he could recall, according to her it was a good luck charm. She’d once told him that it saved her life.

A frown crosses his face. Ton had no idea if his mother survived this day or not.

His father gave him an affectionate side hug that looked like it clearly caused him pain but the man was grinning through it.

“Dad… you’re dying aren’t you?” Ton hates how the voice that comes out of his mouth sounds like a child. He hates that he feels like a child. Hates that he’s in the body of a child who can’t join the coming fight or steal some healing smoke to save anyone. He hates that they look at him like he’s a child even if he technically is at the moment.

He hates what’s coming next.

One thing he is thankful for is that his parents never lied to him. That he’d forgotten that his mother was human or what they’d done for a living was on him not asking that many questions. His parents didn’t sugarcoat it when they confirmed that yes his father was dying. That everyone dies eventually. That his mother may die fighting the bastards who hexed his father. That some of his aunts and uncles may face the same fate.

Of course Ton knows that death isn’t anything to fear so long as you’ve got a cause worth dying for.

“Do you want to die?” Asked Death as she stood on the other side of his parent’s bed waiting for his father to kick the bucket. Instead of the terrifying gas masked firefighter skeleton soldier was a black-skinned woman, not Black as in brown like his mother but black as in a crisp winter night during a blackout. Her clothing was also black but more like the black of black jeans washed at the wrong temperature and looked rather cozy.

Natsuki was not with her.

“Your Partner is safe.” Death said like she heard his thoughts. “This is not a place for her. I ask again, do you want to die?”

Did he? He looked at his parents and his younger self frozen in time. Ton hadn’t died gloriously in an ultimately futile battle against powerful sorcerers trying to change the world or even protect something important to him. (And suddenly he feels like he failed his parents at that thought.) He’d been killed like an annoyance by someone he admired. Betrayed. And gotten his comrades killed by the grief that his death caused.

...and Tetsujo was still alive the last he’d seen. It was still up in the air if Dokuga was still kicking or if the bo--if Kai’d eaten him as well. If Tetsujo was still alive he’d certainly try to save Ushishimada and Saji’s heads to revive them. Ton knew for a fact that his own corpse was unsalvageable, the massive chunk taken out of his temple certainly contained his devil tumor and without it… he didn’t really know how one would go about reviving without it. And…

So long as some of his loved ones were still alive… isn’t that something worth staying around for?

“I don’t want to die,”Ton said and knew for certain. As sure as the worry slithering in his gut. “If I can help my comrades in any way that’s what I want to do.”

“So that is your choice?”

“Yes.”

Reality blacked out again.

#thenixkat #dorohedoro #fanfiction #crosseyes #ton drhdr

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erideights · 6 years ago

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Everything that we never get to say.

Request by @lady-of-black-roses : Our best angel x reader, the moment they met, their relationship through the years and a kiss in the end.

Pairing: Aziraphale x Fem!Reader (Good Omens)

Word Count: 2066.

Warnings: SO MUCH ANGST. Death. War.

A/N: I'm totally fucking sure this isn't what you was thinking this would be, but you wanted angst and I had this horrible idea and... I'm so sorry.

''—and then I said ‘Pardon me, what!? No way.’ My Bentley! Buy MY Bentley! Can you believe it?"

Aziraphale's gaze was lost in the distance through the transparent and clear glass of the window of the back room of his shop, where his most precious books were safely kept in his old desk.

He heard Crowley's voice, but he didn’t listen to him, so when the silence fell, almost like a cue to give his opinion, he just hummed.

It was raining, and the drops of water that slid down the impeccable surface before him were reflected in his eyes, eyes that for the first time in oh, so many years, mirrored a regret, sadness and longing the demon would never have believed possible in the angel.

But he was watching his back, so, in any case, he didn’t witness such an atrocious image.

"—angel, angel! You're listening? Where the fuck are you? Get down from the clouds."

But again, the blonde platinum angel didn’t answer, just sighed deeply and allowed his whole body to rock to the rhythm of that breath.

Only the red-haired demon's hand on his shoulder, who had been forced to leave his comfortable seat in search of his friend's attention, was able to tear our Aziraphale from his daydream.

"Hey, you okay?" Crowley asked when through the eyes of the angel crossed confusion and bewilderment. Question to which, quickly but worse pretended than he would have expected, Aziraphale replied:

"Of course, of course I am! I was just trying to imagine a world in which you existed without the car. But it has been in vain, certainly. I can not visualize you without it."

But it was evident that he was lying, and Crowley knew it.

The sad story our beloved angel was reviving begins a few years before the outbreak of the Second World War.

We are in London, on a lost street in a neighborhood not very rich but not poor either, where sad gray buildings stood to the sky and people walked down the street as if life had been taken from them.

The atmosphere was tense, there was no doubt about it, with the war about to explode at any moment, to allow oneself to be happy and to wear a smile was complicated to see.

But even so, there were always those special individuals, unique in their kind, who with only a slight upward curve of their lips, seemed to radiate their own light and bathe in it all who came and wanted some of its warmth.

She was just like that.

Y/N, a young librarian who worked day and night in the most lost and desolate of libraries in all London, but for some reason, was always surrounded by children hungry for her charisma, her love and, above all, her stories.

The first time he saw her, Aziraphale was desperately searching for a book of prophecies that, people told, had been discovered a few years ago in an attic of an abandoned building by the area, and like most books lost and/or without owner with real value for the state, it ended up in the town hall or in the closest library to his find.

That same day he crossed two large wooden doors, worn, scruffy by time but cozy in its tender, eccentric and strange way. And there she was, hair tied in a bun that after so many hours of work was practically undone, smile in a mouth full of white pearls for teeth and eyes that could make the most insensitive of men fall in love with her.

She chatted animatedly with a group of what Aziraphale considered mothers, their children not many meters away, huddled around a round table like knights in shining armors, reading similar books that they would later exchange and use to create a story to be able to play in the park.

The angel Aziraphale would swear he had never experienced what love was, but the moment their eyes met, the common description of that emotion was the closest thing he could feel in his more than 5,000 years of life.

She was Heaven in Earth.

But as it was habit for him, those feelings that seemed to surface in his skin were completely ignored, buried at the end of a dark chamber that until a few years later he wouldn’t have the audacity to open.

Not until it was too late.

With an affable smile and his hands, nervously playing with the end of his cinnamon-colored vest, the thousand-years-old angel made his way to the counter of the small, old but cozy library, interrupting —without wanting to— the conversation between his charming and mysterious unknown woman and the mothers of the neighborhood, who soon began chatting between them several meters away.

"Good Morning!" she chirped happily, as charming as he had imagined her. He found himself sighing and drawing the most beautiful of his smiles just for her. "How can I help you?"

Over a few years, their relationship developed between —not so— random fortuitous meetings in the library, all caused by Aziraphale under the pretext and the excuse of enjoying the calm that reigned there —he assured that, in other libraries, ‘’the tumult came to overwhelm him’’— and other approaches not left to chance itself, but by the initiative that the young Y/N showed in order to spend more time with him.

She would be lying if she said that after some time she hadn’t fallen in love with those eyes that seemed to hold all the love in the world, that tender and adorable giggle that rang in his throat when he was nervous or how he seemed to treat her as if she were the most precious thing in the universe.

His heart, his lovely personality, his empathy and how extremely intelligent he was also helped to shape those feelings that often reduced her sleep hours and kept the girl away from reality and in a constant daydream.

Oh, c'est l'amour.

But no matter how hard she tried, how many hints she dropped or how much effort she put into it; her feelings for Aziraphale didn’t seem to be reciprocated.

And that was good! She was satisfied, —or so she wanted to think—, with the shelter of his friendship with the angel.

That was enough.

But the war came to London, and one is unable to appreciate and understand the treasure that is the calm of a simple life until something like this explodes in front of you and plunges you into the flames of despair.

Chaos, destruction and crying soon seized the streets of the largest city in England.

The families were divided, the great national treasures were lost among the most atrocious fires, innocents died, and among the ashes, one couldn’t even find consolation in mourning those who lost, because in reality, there were no bodies left to mourn.

Events like this didn’t harm or disturb in the least celestial beings free of all guilt and exempt to die, anyone could think, but from the corner of one of the most lost streets in the whole city, where a small and cozy library used to be, an angel began to cry.

Aziraphale found rubble where walls and shelves once stood up to join the roof and collect all the knowledge that such a place could hold; ashes where thousands of books used to rest, waiting for someone to read again what they had to teach; a huge void in the counter from where, he then knew, the love of his life used to smile at the sight of him arriving.

A sharp thud on the ground, —a huge leather bag full of books of ancient prophecies— signaled the exact second when Aziraphale, in shock, began to walk and enter the chaos he once considered a home.

His lips trembled as did his hands and practically the rest of his body.

No, he didn’t even want to think that...

''Y/N?'' He asked in just a broken whisper, unable to raise his voice, unable to verify whether or not she had been a victim of that disaster.

Please, God, do not let her be a victim of this disaster, he thought.

'’Y/N? '' He tried again, this time louder, so the pain in his voice was so obvious that anyone who could get to hear him would know, in effect, that the soft angel was crying.

The bomb couldn’t have fallen more than a couple of hours ago. He knew it because he was there, with her, begging her to hide and search for refuge before what he thought would be a furtive meeting to hunt the enemy.

Please, God, I hope that she has listened to me, he prayed again.

But soon he would find out that God didn’t have mercy for anything and anyone. That no matter how much Aziraphale prayed, he had no greater power over the grand plan.

Because it was ineffable, right? Everything had to happen for a reason in order to achieve a specific goal.

But why, of all the millions of people that existed on the planet, of all those who perhaps deserved it, his blue eyes, sad, crystalline with tears, had to rest on the unconscious body of the woman he loved?

''No, no, no, please, no.'' He muttered in a choked way and so quickly that he couldn’t even understand himself, rushing to reach the body and hold it in his arms while his corduroy pants were destroyed by the ashes on the ground.

''Y/N...'' he begged, caressing her face, brushing the strands of hair that had clung to her sweet features from the sweat of her skin

She was breathing, but not for too long.

Her heart was beating, but his heartbeat was numbered and the clock was only moving forward in time.

''It's okay.'' she suddenly murmured, her voice no more than a barely audible whisper between her forced breathing and the silent crying of the blond angel.

She couldn’t open her eyes, her body didn’t have the strength to do it, but she could recognize that warmth anywhere; after all, she was in love with him, right?

''It's okay.'' she repeated, knowing that from her first two words, Aziraphale's eyes had been fixed on her face and that he was probably afraid to blink and that when he opened them again, she would no longer be with him.

‘’I’m sorr—’’

‘’I love you, Aziraphale.’’

His breath stopped, he was frozen in place, unable to look away from the lips that, after her confession, had drawn a tired smile.

She should tell him, right? She couldn’t leave without telling him at least once.

''I'm sorry I took so long to tell you.''

Prey of his own panic and everything that perhaps he wanted to say choked at the beginning of his throat, the only way out that Aziraphale found to give free rein to the feelings that for years he repressed in his little Pandora's box was to kiss that smile that so many times it had stolen his breath.

And he did.

Then a blink.

He, again, had allowed himself to be carried back to that memory of more than 70 years ago.

His hands caressed, distracted, the green cover of an old book that Crowley had never seen before and that he, at that moment, peeked curiously from the shoulder of the angel, wanting to ask for it but knowing, inside his chest and for some unknown reason, that he shouldn’t.

If he had, Aziraphale would have replied that it was simply a gift from an old friend.

Actually, it was the first gift he received throughout his long life.

''Do not tell anyone, but I stole this book from some archives of the Senate House Library when I was a child and I have always kept it as a treasure.

It has not prophecies, or stories of religious interest, but I think the love story it contains could make you smile on a dark and rainy April afternoon.

With all my love for my guardian angel,

Y/N.''

#aziraphale x reader #good omens #aziraphale #good omens one shots #good omens imagine #so much angst #I'm crying so much #aziraphale x fem!reader #crowley is here too

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theonewiththefanfics · 6 years ago

Text

Numb (Part 6)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10- END

Epilogue

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: swearing; things get revealed (suspense, y’all)

Genre: angst

Word count: 2161

Loki walked around the compound aimlessly as sleep evaded him once more. His mind was preoccupied with the same thoughts that everybody else's were- Y/N. The man’s green eyes looked out over the twinkling lights of New York City. The same city he had tried to take over less than a decade ago, but now he saw it from a different perspective. Without the horrible influence and control of Thanos, he opened up to the belief, that humans weren’t worthless, that they were capable of amazing things, that they could create miracles from nothing. And Y/N was proof of it. They had met coincidentally. He and Thor had come back to Earth in search of their father as the raven-haired man’s scheme had been revealed. As they stood on the side-walk of the destroyed old people's home, Y/N had practically tackled his brother to the ground. “What are you doing here?” Thor’s smile was as wide as ever. “Looking for our father,” he threw Loki a glance and he could only roll his eyes at the unspoken comment. “Cool, listen,” and she had started to ramble about something the second prince of Asgard had no idea. But her movements, her excitement about whatever it was they were discussing enthralled the man. He found himself gazing at her features, taking the woman in, how relaxed her form was not only around the God of Thunder but around the God of Lies and Mischief as well. “Don’t wanna keep you too long, so,” she had mock-bowed and grinned as she stood up. “Good luck on your quest!” Now the most prominent memory of the once bubbly girl was her lifeless body as Steve tried to revive her. How Y/N’s face had drained from colour and when Tony shined a light in her eyes- the glazed over, non-seeing Y/E/C orbs. His steps were quiet, completely silent as he searched for solitude and his thoughts had brought him to the where he was sure no one would disturb him- the medical wing. It was like Loki’s own body, his very being wanted to be near Y/N. And he did. If anybody asked him what he wished for right now without even a second to spare he would say that he wanted for the woman to open her eyes and grace him with her smile.

She had accepted him without a question, treating him like she treated all the other Avengers, making them become immediate friends. Y/N wasn’t afraid to push his buttons, to tease him and make him step out of his comfort zone. He loved her like she was his family. And they were- incredibly dysfunctional and in a desperate need of therapy, lots of it, but family. He’d do anything for the Avengers now, and he was sure they’d do anything for him. With mild exceptions, but what else would you expect. Loki stood there, outside of her hospital room. She was just laying on the bed, head turned to the side a bit and one arm slung over her stomach. He had his own keycard, of course, but somehow the god felt like he would be interrupting. On his way over he’d heard Bucky’s quiet voice as he had carried that boy- Dominic- back to his room. Surprise had taken over Loki as he was completely sure the ex-assassin wouldn’t leave Y/N’s side even if the world was set on fire. Not until she awoke. He didn’t like them, Katrina and Dominic. Being the god of lies he was able to distinguish when anybody was being untruthful, but something didn’t sit right with him. Loki could barely read the Romanian woman, making him compare her to Natasha and her training. She wasn’t HYDRA nor was she from the Red Room, Stark having done intense background checks, but whatever her agenda was, he was not about to let her harm Y/N. The card reader beeped silently and with a non-existent hiss, the glass door opened. Slowly he stepped inside, allowing it to swing closed, letting the outside world die out. The breathing machine worked with a non-stop rhythm, pumping air into Y/N’s lungs and helping her exhale. Little drips splatted in the IV bag as the liquid made its way into her body, keeping her nourished and alive. There was a certain buzz in the air, for a normal human it would be undetectable, but Loki felt it. Glancing around he saw nothing that could emit it, but then it clicked, it was Y/N herself, the electricity coursing through her veins, as she got stronger and the powers revived. If you looked hard enough a faint colour of periwinkle could be seen running up her bicep. He smiled at it, knowing that she would never give up, being the stubborn person that she was. The god sat down in the leather armchair, Bucky’s body-warmth still lingering. He grasped her palm, the one that rested beside her. Loki knew his own were cold, borderline freezing, but Y/N had never once flinched when he touched her, so there was no fear that he’d cause her any harm. “I’m sorry he hurt you,” his smooth voice floated through the air, “I’m sorry any of them hurt you. If I had had any knowledge of what was happening I would have punched Bucky to Valhalla and then asked Hela to stick his ass up on a spike. And that Katrina… I…” he sighed and looked at Y/N’s closed eyes, “I don’t like her. Not one bit. So I’ll figure out what is going on with that. I don’t trust her, she isn’t clean. I don’t think it was a coinc-“ but Loki’s sentence was cut short as he heard soft footsteps coming his way. If it were Bucky’s the man wouldn’t bother with moving, but by the lightness of them, he knew they weren’t. Like a mirage, Loki’s powers surrounded him in a green shimmer before he teleported out of the room. But not too far away. Which was a good thing too, because the person walking towards where Y/N slept was none other than the intruder herself. Katrina’s hair was let down, the ends of it almost touching the curve of her back, but what made Loki even more interested, not just the sheer fact that she was going to see Y/N, was how she was moving. Her blue eyes swiftly moving over every inch of the hallway, feet carrying her on the very tiptoes and a hand clutched to her chest as if she was hiding something. When she swiped a white rectangle against the tiny black machine adjacent to the door, he knew that indeed Katrina was. Because nobody apart from the Avengers could acquire the keys and nobody apart from the staff were allowed inside. Loki camouflaged in the shadows, becoming a blurry mess of black and grey. He watched her, sitting there, her lips moving as she talked to Y/N. The man cursed himself for not staying in the room and spying in on her, but what was done was done. He had no chance of teleporting without his powers giving him away. But one wrong move and the dagger he had conjured in his palm would slip right through Katrina’s neck.

The Romanian woman padded along the tower as quietly as possible. She knew that Dominic wasn’t in his bed, having checked it a few minutes ago, but when Bucky’s soft voice had come from the room, gently lulling the boy to sleep, she rushed past him and to the elevator. Her heart pounded as it took her up where the med-bay was. Katrina knew, that if she asked, no one would allow her near Y/N, but she needed to see her. Now that she had swiped Sam’s card, there was no way out, so with short breaths, the brown haired girl moved along the hallway. She knew she didn’t have much time, with Bucky practically having not left Y/N’s side. Double checking if the air was clear she found the woman instantly. Katrina hovered the card over the reader and when the lock clicked she swiftly went inside. The Avenger laid motionless, her facial features relaxed and unmoving. There was an armchair right next to the bed and she took the place, her nose inhaling what was undoubtedly Bucky’s aftershave and something else, something she’d never smelt before. Like from another planet. Katrina chuckled, looking at Y/N again. “I really don’t know where to start, so I guess I’ll start here- I’m sorry that this happened to you. But I would be lying if I didn’t admit that a part of me wishes that you don’t make it. Wishes that you had stayed in that building. It’s horrible, I know. I have no clue what kind of a person it makes me, but I’m not going to sit here and tell you lies.” “From the moment I came here I knew things would be complicated. I hadn’t seen Bucky in a long time and I knew he had moved on. Fuck, you have no idea how many times I saw his face on the TV where they talked about him being an Avenger and a hero. It made me smile, made me happy. And I know you feel the same. I couldn’t be more ecstatic that he got those horrible words out of his head, that he is now a free man and can start a life. But there was a part of me that became bitter.” “Mostly for the fact that he seemed to have forgotten me. To have forgotten Dominic. We spent almost two years together. We were married. Yes, I know it wasn’t real, but… could you blame me if I said that I wanted it to be? That my thoughts were plagued by him every night? How would it be to kiss him, to hug him, to love him? And have him love you back?” “He did his job. Without a doubt. Up until the Vienna showdown, Bucky protected us with everything he had. I don’t blame him for running, not one bit. After Zemo had been ratted out as the true mastermind of the terror act, I hoped for days that he would come back. But there was a part that knew, he wouldn’t. I also knew he wouldn’t leave us defenceless.” She laughed again. “If there is one thing Bucky doesn’t do is leave the job half done.” “I scoured our home for any clue as to what to do now and found a map of his old safe-houses. There was my name written on a letter attached to it and I knew he had thought of when things went sour. That was the moment I realised I was completely in love with him.” “Dominic and I ran for a while, only staying in one place for a few weeks, months if there was no other way, but we left as soon as possible. But thing got a lot more dangerous, so we came to America. And then I remembered he was an Avenger. I thought to myself- where safer could it be than with the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes? With Bucky?” “Getting to New York was tough, especially with my ex’s goons on our trail, but we managed. We got here. Yet what I found broke my heart. I thought he’d be happy to see me, to see Dominic, to know that we were alive. But all I saw was how he looked at you. How I wanted to be looked at. You didn’t pay any attention to him though, so I felt a bit better. Maybe things could work out between us.” “But now I know what I fool I was to think that way,” Katrina clasped her hands together. “So I came here to tell you this one thing that has been eating me away since you all left for that mission- I will fight for him and his love. And I hate you. If it wasn’t for you and your dumb heroic act Bucky wouldn’t be beating himself up for what happened. You don’t deserve to love him, you don’t deserve to even be friends with him, with how you have treated him. I fight for the people I love because it’s the only thing I have. So you best believe me when I say this- you either let go of life and let me be there for him or a storm is coming your way, Y/N.” Katrina felt like a boulder had fallen off her chest and she stood up. Before she exited, she glanced back at the still girl. “I hope you understand where I’m coming from. After all, you wanted to save your family and so do I.” The door clicked closed once again and the first thing Y/N saw when her eyes slowly fluttered open was dark hair billowing with the motion of someone walking away.

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A/N: yayy, productivity!

Ok, so I am getting somewhere with figuring out how many parts there are going to be and it looks like 10 or more. Right now it’s at 10, but as I am writing I usually add or take things away, so we’ll see :)

P.S. please tell me what you think :)

P.S.S. if you wanna be tagged or have any requests, drop a message :)

P.S.S.S. please don’t repost without credit :))

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