#i don’t know what came over me to make six of them LMAOOO | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sukirichi · 4 years ago

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— out of reach | gojo x reader

request: Girllllll I just read your jealous gojo fic and my heart went 📈📈📈📈💥💥💥 youre now one of my fav writers 🙏🧎‍♀️And the spicy parts 😫😫😫 💖 If your asks are still open, could I please request a fic where GOJO has a size kink 🥺🥺🥺 my 5’1 ass is obsessed with that shizzzz

pov: you’re gojo’s childhood friend and roommate – which leads to utter chaos – or perhaps utter bliss?

warnings: size kink, lots of teasing, lots of cursing, dirty talk, choking (probably not in the way you think), body worship, lots of size difference scenes, slight manhandling, overstimulation, thigh fucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl guys) + unedited fic :D

notes: idk what happened here LMAOOO but i loved writing this one because i’m short as hell too lol. thanks for this request anon, i hope you like it! <3

word count: 10.5k

masterlist !

If you’re going to be honest, having Gojo as a roommate is something completely unexpected.

Not only are you two from entirely different worlds – him as a jujutsu sorcerer and you as an average human who can’t see curses – but he’s also just someone who is entirely out of your league. He’s respected and looked up to in his field of work, while half of your co-workers don’t even know your name, much less notice you in function parties where you mostly just nibble on sushi before calling it a day and turning back home.

You and Gojo met in elementary school. You could tell from the way he’s surrounded by servants and stern looking adults, firm hands on his small shoulders, that he was different from everyone else.

Apparently, he comes from one of the three big clans in the jujutsu world or whatever. You honestly don’t care about any of that, because Gojo refuses to act maturely about his role in the clan. You still remember how quiet he was on the first day of school, never smiling and keeping to himself despite your persuasion to eat lunch with him or play with him after school in the courtyard.

You miss that Gojo Satoru – the quiet, serious kid who was far too gentle in his actions yet firm in his words and beliefs. When you were still a little girl, you admired how he seemed older than his age, a wistful look in those azure blue eyes of his that you’ve always loved.

To you, Gojo Satoru was your hero. You’ve always been one of the shortest kids in class, and it didn’t help that you really loved pigtails all the way until middle school that made you an easy target from immature people who’s being hit way too fast by puberty and growing each passing day. You never minded your short stature because really, it’s just height, but you couldn’t ignore how your confidence dwindled each day when they called you several array of nicknames.

Too shy to fight back, you’d laugh it off or force a smile.

Gojo wasn’t having any of it. He’d break his silence and immediately pull you to his side (which only made things worse because Gojo was one of the tallest kids in class, further emphasizing how small you are right next to him) before threatening to smack the kids right in the face.

The threat should be enough to land him detention, but because he’s Gojo Satoru, the golden kid everyone loved, they took his word seriously.

At the age of eleven, you started seeing your best friend as your knight in shining armour. Gojo basked in this, growing protective and always glaring at whoever snickered when you walked past them. Sometimes he even bared his teeth to hiss at them, which was honestly so ridiculous now that you think about, though the message – the threat – always came across loud and clear.

So yeah, you love Gojo, you still do.

Years flew by and the two of you grew apart due to work and also as a part of growing up. You still kept in contact, messaging each other once a month to ask the other how they’re doing. His work kept him extremely busy though, and Gojo didn’t want you involved in the dangers of what he’s doing, so he makes sure to keep a safe distance.

Until six months ago, you hear a banging on your door. You’re just about ready to throw hands because your former roommate moved out to live with her stoner boyfriend, leaving you to shoulder all the bills and responsibilities of maintaining a two man apartment.

A sneer forms on your lips as you swing the door open, a scowl already on your face. You assumed it was your roommate who returned to get the pair of lace panties they left in their room, but instead, your childhood friend stands before you, taller (seriously, how has he not stopped growing?) and definitely a lot hotter than the last time you saw him.

One thing leads to another, and now it feels like there was never such distance between the two of you with how easily you both fell back into a comfortable – yet chaotic – rhythm and routine of being each other’s roommate.

Not that you mind, of course. Gojo’s definitely changed a lot from when you were kids. He’s no longer that stiff or sensitive when it comes to others. In fact, it seems like he loosens up a lot more with age, because you can barely recognize the man living under the same roof with you now.

For one thing, Gojo is loud. Like really talkative, won’t shut the fuck up and speaks like he’s in a screaming contest with someone. It doesn’t matter if you’re taking an important phone call or sleepwalking at three in the morning to pee, Gojo is always creating some sort of ruckus.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you loved it. You love him.

He’s definitely a lot more enthusiastic and fun to be with now that both of you have grown up, or in Gojo’s case, simply aged. His maturity reversed backwards because it feels like you’re taking care of a little kid.

Not only does his body clock is practically non-existent, he’s also horrible when it comes to taking care of himself and being punctual with work.

Fortunately for him, you love him, and you both leave for work at the same time. You always wake up earlier to prepare breakfast so you’d both have energy to start the day – although you highly doubt there’s really anything that depletes his endless source of one.

Sleepily walking through the kitchen with your fist rubbing at your eyes, you rummage through the refrigerator for some eggs when you realize there’s none.

Huh, you think to yourself, scratching your scalp. You’re sure that Gojo went grocery shopping last week since it’s his chore to do the outside stuff like buying groceries and throwing thrash, so where did it go?

You open shelf by shelf, checking each corner and shoving cans aside to look for the tray. With a glare, you stand on your tiptoes to pull the pantry open, only to have your mouth fall aghast because it’s all there – right at the back where you can’t reach it!

Fucking Satoru, you grit your teeth while heaving your body up onto the counter. It’s a struggle because not only are your muscles still half asleep, but because the shelf is right in your face, and if you’re not careful enough, you could hit it right with your face and fall over. Of fucking course you know Satoru did this to make fun of you – and now you retract your statement over your best friend.

It’s all a lie.

He’s a pain in the ass. Why do you even bother cooking for him and letting him live literally just a room away when you know he won’t stop pulling shit like this?

Because, the nagging voice in your head tries to mock, he’s your best friend and you can’t really say no to him. This makes you huff as you carefully pull the tray towards you, hooking two fingers at the edge while your other palm grips at the end of the counter for support. No thanks to your short limbs, you’re practically hogging the shelf by now in an attempt to reach it. You look ridiculous, that’s for sure, and you make a mental note to keep Satoru’s windows open tonight so he freezes to death –

“Aw, cupcake,” a sing-song voice emerges from the other side of the room. “You look so adorable. You should’ve woke me up if you need my help.”

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you flip him off. The man only laughs, the rambunctious sound echoing off the walls. It’s way too early in the morning and he’s already so damn loud; something builds up at the back of your head out of frustration already. His grin only gets wider when you finally got the eggs and clutch it your chest, setting it down on the counter while wiping your sweat away from your face. “Freeloader,” you mutter under your breath, ignoring him when he happily skips over to you.

“Ouch,” he places a palm over his chest, although you both know he’s never really affected by anything. “So what’s for breakfast today? You?”

“You know, I can kick you out anytime I want. I’m being extremely nice even going as far to cook you breakfast before you leave for work, so don’t test my patience.”

“Exactly, my best friend is so kind,” Satoru grows the audacity to rest his arm on your head. This triggers a reflexive response from you; shoulders tensing up and hands curling into fists beside you. “I would totally date her if she wasn’t such a temperamental little devil,” you nearly stab him with a fork with his statement, which he thinks he’s being so sly for but you heard it, and you’re most definitely not pleased with it. “Okay, I’m kidding! I’m going to go shower now!”

You roll your eyes at him and heat the pan over with some oil, muttering under your breath that you’re really going to kick him out soon. As if things couldn’t get worse – as if Satoru couldn’t get any worse – he smacks your backside in the process before darting to the showers.

“Gojo Satoru!”

“Morning, best friend, love ya!”

You were right. He is a pain in the ass.

“You don’t always have to walk me to work.”

“I know.”

“So why’re you still here? I’m not a little kid anymore,” Contrary to your words, you stick closer to Satoru when the morning rush of workers and students begin to crowd the streets. Your best friend notices this with a small smile, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Don’t even try, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

“I know that look on your face,” you fiddle with the buttons of your uniform, sighing when Satoru follows you inside the bus after tapping your phone for two seats. It’s not a surprise to you anymore that most of your expenses are spent by him, for him, and he lazily sprawls his long limbs across the seat before you pulling you down right next to him.

As much as you hate this man, especially because he smirks at the attention he’s receiving from women – even men – in the bus, you have to admit he’s warm and smells damn good. You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking around in slight self-consciousness before inching a little closer, just to feel his warmth. He’s comforting – irrationally so – so you set your bag between the both of you to keep your sanity. “If you keep doing this, Principal Yaga might fire your ass because you’re never on time.”

“Trust me, cupcake, he won’t. I’m too valuable for that.”

How you saw that coming – you can’t tell anymore. The bus ride is relatively quiet and eventless, with you dozing off every now and then because you’re never a morning person. Thankfully, Satoru is more respectful this time around, lolling your head until it drops to his shoulder. After that, he snakes his arm around your waist before resting it on your thigh as a way to say you don’t have to head bang every damn second and just sleep.

On any other occasion, you would’ve hated it. You always look so small whenever you’re in Satoru’s presence. It doesn’t help that he’s long and lanky, either, his slender fingers effortlessly caressing your thigh while almost your entire body is flushed next to him. But right now, he’s too warm, too soft, and you’re too tired that for just a little bit, you allow yourself to relax.

A beeping wakes you up a moment later. Opening your eyes, you push yourself off Satoru when you see an old lady reaching for the handles. No one gave up their seats for her even as the bus driver asked her to find a seat lest she’d fall.

“Grandma, here, take my seat—” You’re about to stand up and offer it to her when Satoru tugs you by the wrist. Because of your small, wobbly composure, pulling you to him takes little to no effort. You end up on his lap, sitting on him as if you’re nothing but a small, dainty schoolbag. Satoru is clearly enjoying this because you feel him breathily laugh on the back of your neck, charming – annoyingly so – as he gestures to the now empty spot beside him.

“It’s no worries, Grandma. She’ll be fine,” he gestures to you, patting your head like you’re some puppy. “Please, take a seat. The bus is already moving.”

“Satoru, get off me,” You wriggle yourself from his hold, which only ends up in wasted effort because this big oaf doesn’t even budge. He even bounces you on one of his thighs, and you dig your nails into his arms as a silent plead for him to stop. He ignores this, ignores your small whines and the apparent embarrassment that has you debating whether to punch him or hide yourself in the safety of his uniform.

“She’s a feisty little one, isn’t she?”

The old lady watches the two of you banter, giggling behind her wrinkled hands. “You’re an adorable couple.”

“I think so too!”

“You’re so going to pay for this, Satoru,” you grumble, face planted onto your palms. This is it – the worst day of your life. It’s even worse because despite your protests, you have to admit his lap is actually comfortable. You’ve already known this before after countless times of cuddling with Satoru during movie nights, but its different when you’re both out in public. It feels...oddly intimate and maybe even romantic when he rubs soothing circles at your back, almost as if apologizing for this event. Most of all, you just hate the way something pools beneath your stomach at having him so close to you like this. “This is so embarrassing. I’m practically crushing you with my weight.”

“Please, cupcake, you barely weigh anything. I could easily lift you off with just my finger,” when you elbow him in the chest, Satoru only laughs, raising both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing.”

You give up. No one seems to be paying much attention to any of you anyway, so you sigh, letting yourself hide in the crook of his neck as you watch the city pass through the windows. Your body moves as his chest rises and falls from his breathing, the movement oddly comforting. It’s embarrassing – it really is – but at least the grandma was comfortable until Satoru drops you off near your building.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way there.”

“Why not? You don’t want people to see us together or something?”

“No,” you stare at him from the corner of your eye. It’s no secret Satoru is attractive. This bastard knows it too, judging from the way he confidently and arrogantly swaggers next to you, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked with no care in the world. “My co-workers keep asking me for your number every time I tell them we’re not dating. It’s getting annoying at this point how they go Satoru this and Satoru that.”

“Am I hearing it right? Is cupcake jealous?”

“I’m not jealous, I’m disgusted,” you correct, “They don’t know how much of a pain you are to have around. They’re so focused with your looks that they completely overlook the fact you can’t even wash your dirty underwear!”

Satoru frowns at this, pointing his finger to you as if you’ve accused him of a huge crime. “Hey, I wash my underwear.”

“Yeah and last time you did, you mixed it with whites! My work uniform turned a stupid shade of blue! Now I can’t picture the colour of your boxers out of my head and it’s giving me a headache!”

“Wow, Y/N,” the smirk on his face and the sudden drop of nicknames lets you know you’ve said something wrong. Even behind his blindfold, you could tell his eyes are just sparkling with amusement. He’s enjoying this way too much. “I never thought you’d ever picture my boxers. I mean, I don’t mind showing it to you if you ask nicely—”

“Ugh, you’re so hopeless. I’m going to work.”

Gojo laughs when you jog away from him. He catches up with you in a matter of seconds, only having to take a few steps forward before he’s right beside you again. You’re unsure if you should be annoyed it’s so easy for him to always be right next to you, and how he almost always is right next to you while you prefer running away. It muddles with your heart and mind so much you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to be swayed by the sickeningly sweet sound of his laughter. “I can’t pick you up later, okay? I might work overtime!” (that’s a lie since Gojo prefers shopping and sightseeing)

Both of you know that’s a lie. Gojo never works overtime. He’s going to work for a few hours and so and call playing around with his students as “on-hand learning” before he goes shopping for stupid souvenirs and wild-flavoured mochis, then end his day by sightseeing and coming back home.

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you mumble, waving goodbye to him as the office doors close. Slowly, Satoru’s grin and enthusiastic farewell fades into view until nothing but the pale, silver walls of your office greets you.

Funny how you claim to hate this man so much, yet the moment he’s out of sight, everything becomes dull and pointless.

It’s an absolutely shitty day. Your equally shitty boss blames you for something you didn’t even do, all because his incompetent secretary – who you’re sure he’s sleeping with – lost this month’s report and claimed she handed it to you last week when you’re not involved in that kind of work. Logic doesn’t come by them because your boss publicly humiliates and scolds you, calling you all kinds of names until tears are streaming down your face.

You slam the door shut the moment you get home, kicking your shoes off as you head straight to your room. You don’t bother taking your makeup off anymore as you change into a loose shirt and floral cotton shirts, padding to the kitchen after seeing Satoru is well nestled into the couch.

At least someone’s had a good day.

Seeing as the sink is empty, he probably hasn’t eaten dinner. This makes you sigh, because when will he ever learn to look after himself? He’s literally like a child.

Satoru pauses whatever he’s watching before he hovers over you, head tilted to the side as he gazes at you with curiosity. You ignore him and begin to set down some bowls and chopsticks for dinner, all the while Satoru is studying every inch of your tightly pulled face. “Bad day?” he concludes.

“Hmm.”

“Bad day it is then,” he nods to himself. “I can cook dinner, if you want.”

“And have you burn my apartment? No thanks,” you scoff, pushing him aside to retrieve the pans when you see that he’s placed them above again, even after you’ve reminded countless times to just leave it near the holders in the sink. “Ugh, why do you keep putting the pans in this shelf? You know I can’t reach this. I’ve had enough with you pulling pranks on me, and don’t think I’ve forgotten you placed my shampoo above the shower head today, you idiot,” you snarl and hop over the counter again to get the pans, trying your best to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “You’re really bothersome, you know that?”

“Then why don’t you kick me out?” he challenges, completely oblivious to how you’re struggling – both physically and emotionally. “You always complain about me being a nuisance here, but you’re not really doing anything to keep me out.”

“Because where else would you go?”

“Technically, I have a room back at the Institute.”

“Yeah, but because you’re so stupid and reckless that you got kicked out of your own home,” you spat out, and you watch as Satoru raises a brow at your statement. Banter is common between the both of you, but something about the intensity of your gaze lets him know you’re serious this time around. “I don’t even know how Yuuji puts up with you. That poor Megumi is right when he says you’re insufferable. You’re good for nothing!”

Satoru scoffs, “Fine, if you hate me that much, why didn’t you just say so earlier? I could easily pack my bags and go since I’m just making everything harder—” Satoru doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying when your hand over the counter that acts as support slips under you, and you fall, legs bent awkwardly while you scream, preparing yourself for the impact. The pan is long forgotten, your only thought was oh my god, so this is how I die.

But it never came, and you keep your eyes shut tight even as warm hands cup your ass. Satoru is breathing hard under you. Finally gaining the courage to crack an eye open, your breath halts when you see that he’s sitting on the floor, with you safely nestled between him.

Satoru has always had pretty eyes, but it’s rare he takes off his blindfold off even when he’s home. This is one of those rare occurrences that he seems like a normal human, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that hands low from his collarbones and magnetic blue eyes staring right back at you. His touch is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to hurt you, and his voice that is usually loud and teasing comes out breathy and hesitant.

“Are you okay?”

Your gaze drops down to his lips. He’s close, so close, that if you just lean a little closer you could – you snap out of your daze. “Get off me.”

“Cupcake, you’re the one who’s on top of me,” his voice falls an octave lower, eyes flitting down to your clothing – or rather the lack of it – before Satoru takes a deep breath. “Did you really have to wear that?”

“I have the right to wear whatever I want in the comfort of my own home.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he raised a brow, this time completely in control of himself as he gazes back up at you with a burning gaze. You see nothing but the way one corner of his lips tilt up, almost teasing, and he looks so much like a shit-eater that you feel heat crawl down your spine.

You push yourself off him but your bent foot behind you slips, and you fall forward with your hands clutching his strong shoulders. Satoru catches your leg behind you, drags it forward until your knee is pressed in between one of your warmth, very much still enjoying the way you wriggle away from his hold. He knows his effect on you – but you deny this wholeheartedly.

“Careful, cupcake. This isn’t a slip and slide.”

“I hate you so much,” you bare your teeth at him, slapping his chest until he finally lets go of you. Turning your back to him, you pick up the pan and begin preparing your dinner, muttering curses under your breath as you heat up the stove. “I’m kicking you out tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Eat your damn dinner first.”

Dinner after that is awkward. Although Gojo is someone who can wolf down his meal in three seconds, he takes his time in eating to start conversation with you. Sometimes he asks decent questions like how your day was or he’d talk about something stupid, but he’s quiet the whole time. He even volunteers to do the dishes before retreating to his room, coating the house in silence.

It almost feels like you’re all alone over again.

You’ve gotten so used to him being an utter mess everywhere that when he’s not trying to piss you off and actually giving you the much needed peace, you begin to hate it. Memories of the rude things you’ve said to him a while ago play and in your head, and you bang your head against the wall repeatedly.

How are you supposed to apologize to Satoru now?

The answer doesn’t come until you stare at your walls, wide awake at midnight. The house is still eerily silent and you don’t stop shuffling around your bed in discomfort. Many times, you wished that Satoru would shut up and leave you alone, but now that he’s actually done that, it feels weird. Uncomfortable. It feels wrong.

With a grunt, you kick off the sheets and carefully tread to his room, knocking lightly in case he’s already sleeping. “Satoru?” you call out, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Are you awake?”

You’ve seen Satoru angry as kids before, but what would he be like now? Would he still want to be your friend? Would he still annoy you by hiding your things somewhere you can’t reach? Or would he be the who is now out of reach? If he leaves...who’s going to walk you to work? Who’s going to complain he doesn’t want to do groceries but buys you things you don’t ask for but want anyway? Who’s going to keep teasing the living daylights out of you if not him?

All these thoughts claw at the back of your mind until your bottom lip trembles. You hate how weak you feel; how you’re never careful with your words.

You never meant it when you said all that.

Your train of thought is cut off when the door swings open, revealing an equally tired-looking Satoru. At the sight of you peering up at him with glossy eyes, he pushes the door wider and steps closer to you, his large hands cupping your face as he leans down in worry. “Cupcake,” his brows pinch together, “Did something happen? Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I said,” you blurt out, “I was just tired from work and my boss was being shitty, so I wasn’t totally myself that time and I’m really sorry I took my anger out on you. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re insufferable and that I’m kicking you out so – yeah,” you breathe out, trailing your gaze downwards to stare at your feet instead. It’s difficult to look him in the eye right now. When you finally gain courage to speak again, it barely comes out as a whimper, your hands delicately tugging at his shirt. “Please stay. I like having my best friend around here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer.

You’re about to look up at him just in case you’ve said something wrong, or worse, he refuses to forgive you, but then – “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t kick me out. You’re too much of a darling to say no to me.”

Sigh. Satoru laughs when he sees your shoulders deflate, absolutely shattered in exhaustion. Hiding your smile to now show him you’re relieved, you punch his chest that really feels like a fly had accidentally flew into him. “Way to ruin the mood, Satoru. And here I thought I could have a serious conversation with you for once.”

“Apology accepted,” he beams, tilting your chin upwards so you could look at him. Even in the darkness of his room, his eyes glow, leaving you hypnotized in its beauty. “Plus, I think I’m the one who should apologize. You’re right; I haven’t been the best roommate and I am a freeloader,” he scratches the side of his head in thought. “But I do buy you food all the time though.”

“Yeah, with my money,” you counter, but you don’t really care anymore at this point. You’re beyond elated you’re both fine now, and you shyly gesture to his big, warm bed that suddenly looks so comfortable. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

“You want Satoru’s bear hug?”

“Yes, I do.” There’s no hesitation in your words and you don’t complain anymore when he easily picks you up like a ragdoll using only one arm. He’s surprisingly gentle when he places you both down on the bed, sheets warm and soft as it blankets over you.

It would be perfect – except it’s so damn awkward.

Gojo’s long limbs are everywhere. Your face is pressed into his chest, both your legs tangled together. His arm is sprawled over the curve of your hip, his hand nearly grazing your ass that’s barely covered by the thin material of your shorts, but if he shifts, he’ll end up cupping the back of your thighs which is equally uncomfortable.

He seems to be stuck in the same position because you’re so small, and your knees are grazing his groin. Had he known you’re going to sleep with him, he would’ve worn underwear or even boxers under his sweatpants.

He’s never told you before, but he prefers to sleep in the nude. Satoru only picked up the nearest pair of pants when he heard you knock, and even then, he didn’t have the time to wear a shirt.

Your breath is hot on his skin and he’s so sensitive and aware of all your movements. Satoru clears his throat awkwardly, shifting until his arm lightly holds your back instead, but then he pulls away as if he’s touched fire when he’d unknowingly fiddled with your bra clasp instead. It’s so painfully awkward that Satoru chuckles above you, while you scrunch your nose, silently praying to the heavens above that he won’t hear how loud your heart is beating right now.

“Why is it so hot in your own room?”

“Maybe it’s time you get me an AC.”

“You wish, Satoru,” you mumble beneath him, making yourself as comfortable as you can with your cheek resting on his bicep. It’s not the softest pillow considering he’s pretty muscular, but he’s warm and smells like mint spice nevertheless. “You’re really not going to put on a shirt?”

Satoru sighs, a long and loud one that is extended for dramatic purposes. Suddenly, he pushes your knee off of him, grimacing and thanking the darkness that you can’t see how much he’s struggling right now. “Cupcake, this is hard for me as much as it is for you. You’re barely wearing anything.”

“Since when have you cared about what I wear?”

“I’m a man, Y/N,” is what he reasons with, “You’re lucky it’s me. Had it been someone else and you crawled into their bed wearing these—” Satoru pinches the waistband of your shorts, and you squeal in protest, only making him laugh afterwards before he lets it go and the material snaps back at your skin, “—poor excuse of what you call shorts, I can’t guarantee they’ll give you a peaceful night.”

You know exactly what he’s trying to hint at. Still, it’s hard to believe that Satoru is capable of seeing you that way.

It’s not that you feel you’re unattractive. You know you’re pretty and have been out on many dates, but it’s easy to feel that you’re not sexy when you have the height of a thirteen year old and you’ve been constantly chastised about it.

Satoru’s not-compliment compliment has your heart skipping a beat, and you scoff in response. “Shut up,” you warn lamely, “I want to sleep.”

“Then let’s sleep, cupcake.” You don’t know if it’s because you’re utterly exhausted that you doze off seconds later or if Satoru’s words just held power in them, but soon all thoughts of anything unwanted drifts out the window, his arms keeping you close, completely safe and sound until the worst nightmares couldn’t even come close.

Hot. It’s extremely hot.

You crack an eye open to try and find the source of this uncomfortable heat, but you freeze when you realize you can’t feel your muscles from the chin down. Panic rises in your throat once you see the current predicament you’re in, and a scream rips through your throat so loud that the birds outside scurry away in a flurry.

You’re wrapped in Satoru’s blanket and comforter, rendering you unable to move because of how he’d treated you like a burrito wrap. Even your toes are captured inside this hell, and only your head is able to wriggle side to side.

“Satoru!”

The culprit comes out of the shower a split second later, his hair dripping wet and only a towel hanging low from his lips. If you weren’t so hell-bent on killing him, you would’ve been speechless at the way water drips from his hair down to the curves of his abs, going down down down into a place only your darkest imaginations could take you.

Satoru bends over in laughter as he whips out his phone, jumping from angle to angle and side to side to take photos of you. “Fuck,” he howls, slapping his thigh while you snarl in an attempt to break free. “You’re a lot cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“Satoru! Get me out of here!”

“No, this is way too gold. I’m sending these to my students.”

“Satoru, I’m serious!” The devil incarnate himself falls deaf to your please.

Maybe it’s because the violent intent has coursed through your veins so strongly that a surge of energy and strength overcomes you, and soon, you’ve rolled out of the blanket. The fresh air nipping at your heated skin is most welcomed, but right now, you had a mission to fulfil: obliterate Gojo Satoru.

The platinum haired man is still laughing to himself, too distracted in scrolling through the best photos to send to his students that he doesn’t notice you escaping and zooming straight right at him.

The momentum is enough to catch him off guard until you end up on top of him, short arms clawing your way through to snatch his phone. Satoru yelps when his phone lands out into the living room and your hands come down to choke him. You don’t have plans to kill him, but you want to hurt him enough to remind him you’re not someone he can fuck with.

You’ve just about had enough of this man and you’re so sick of him!

Satoru yells out a “Hey!” when you let out a battle cry, using your legs to kick him back when he tries to sit up. Your plan backfires when your hands slip down his wet skin and you fall face forwards, hands barely touching the ground for support when your lips come crashing down on his.

He stills underneath you. It takes a moment for you to realize that holy shit, you’re kissing him and his lips are so soft that has you scrambling back, but Satoru doesn’t let you.

His large hand comes up at the back of your neck to pull you forward. The sudden movement makes you gasp, and Satoru slips his tongue inside when you do so. You no longer remember how you got here or try to make sense of what’s going on, because he feels so good, tastes so good that you bury your nails in his hair while he ravishes your mouth.

You’re so tiny that his hand cups your entire buttcheek almost possessively, a low growl emanating deep in his throat when your tongue eagerly intertwines with his. Satoru tastes like heaven and everything about the kiss is sloppy – tongue clashing with one another and teeth nibbling at the other’s lips. It’s clear both of you can’t get enough of one another as you moan in his mouth, shamelessly grinding on his crotch, suddenly thankful that you’re always wearing thin clothes when you feel him harden underneath you.

“Fuck, baby,” he pulls away to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. “Yeah, just like that,” There’s something empowering about the way he pants at your ministrations, especially when you roll your hips faster across his erection. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing – fuck – so well.”

You smirk at his praises, latching your teeth on his neck to suck marks on them. Satoru groans at the same time you muffle your moans through his skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to tug the cups of your bra down. You nearly lose it when he pinches your nipple, bolts of electricity running down your spine at the contact. A moan breaks through your lips just as you come right there and then, the wetness of your sudden orgasm barely hidden in your flimsy underwear.

“Feel good?” he teases and drags your shirt down to the other side, but the post-nut clarity hits. And when it does, it hits hard.

Fuck. You just came from Satoru’s simple touches, and he’s so unsatisfied, still painfully hard underneath you but nothing but panic and regret washes over you like a strong tidal wave. Suddenly, you grow lightheaded as you push yourself off him, fixing your bra while ignoring the confused and hurt look on his face.

“I gotta go to work,” you run out the room, feeling your body tremble as Satoru runs after you. “Make yourself breakfast. I’ll eat on the way out.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You know you’ve just ruined everything – that nothing will ever be the same after that – but you’re scared, utterly and remorsefully so, that you slam the door right in his face as if you don’t have any idea how much you broke him.

You’ll never forget the way Satoru’s face fell when you left.

Just as you thought, nothing is the same after that. The tension is so thick around the apartment you make an effort and go out of your way just to avoid him and the apartment completely.

It’s cowardly – you know this much – but do you ever try to fix the friendship you cherish but shattered completely? You don’t. You don’t because it only crashes down onto you now that maybe your feelings for him aren’t just platonic, after all. It’s even worse because you touch yourself at the thought of him filling you up when he’s asleep, all because you want him so bad and the mere presence of him has your brain malfunctioning.

It isn’t entirely sexual either. Yes, you want to fuck him badly, but it scares you down to the core even more because you want so much more than that.

Now you understand why you always say he’s a bother but never asked him to leave. It’s because you like him, actually romantically interested in him. It makes sense now why you always felt so annoyed whenever your co-workers asked for his number, or how you’re immediately pissed off when Satoru talks about this hot woman he saw at work. You always chalk it up to an excuse you just hate how he can’t keep in his pants, but it isn’t true at all.

It’s because you actually like him – and you’re at a loss on what to do or how to deal with it.

The next few days feels like hell. Satoru isn’t stupid; he knows you’re avoiding him. He stops teasing you eventually and even buys takeout all the time when you lock yourself up in your room right after work, refusing to cook dinner or even eat all so you’d be spared the torture of looking at him.

He’d knock at your door and ask you to eat, but other than that, he’s respected your distance.

You feel like the most terrible person on earth. You don’t miss the way dark circles line under his eyes or how he’s lost his spark, barely even speaking to you when you’ve come or about to leave for work.

You’re alone the whole ride, as well, and it only dawns on you how lonely you are when Satoru isn’t always annoying you all the time.

But it doesn’t make sense. Why is he so bothered by it? Didn’t he regret it? It’s painfully clear you’re not Satoru’s type. You’ve seen the women he dated before, and you’re not close to them so why does he seem like he’s struggling with this as well? Or maybe...he’s just sad that his friend is avoiding him.

Yeah, that has to be it.

Satoru is a man. He was probably turned on at that time, but after giving some thought about it, he probably wants to keep his distance too. He’d be insane if he ever actually wants to date you – his best friend out of all people – because he’s Gojo Satoru and he could literally have everyone else.

You don’t care that you’re a coward.

You don’t care that Satoru is sad to see you this way.

You don’t care because you know he’ll reject you, you know he’ll be weirded if you admit your feelings for him. To him, you’re like his little sister. There’s just no way you two would work out. For now, you have to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. You just need some time to get over your feelings for him, and when you’re confident you won’t fall for him again, you’ll mend your friendship.

You just need time.

“So, Y/N, you still don’t want to give us your friend’s number?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you should share it,” your co-worker encourages by jabbing her shoulder to yours. It’s a lazy Friday night and the staff went out for dinner. You don’t usually come to these hangouts since dinner with Satoru is always much more fun, but he’s the last person you want to think about now, so you happily join them. Now, though, you’re starting to regret ever coming here. “If he’s really single like you said, then it shouldn’t be a big deal to ask for it.”

“Well, since you want it so badly, why don’t you ask him directly for it instead?” you snap, feeling anger begin to trickle. All you wanted was just one day where you don’t have to think of him, but of course they had to bring him up. It’s also annoying how they can never seem to get the message across that you don’t want them dating him. “Why do I have to be the messenger?”

“We haven’t seen him much. Doesn’t he always walk you to work?”

“He’s been busy with his job, that’s all.” And also because I’m avoiding him – so now he’s avoiding me too.

“He’s a teacher, right?”

“Oh, come on, guys, don’t be so dense,” your senpai chugged her drink rather loudly, catching the attention of your nosy co-workers who wouldn’t stop pestering you for his number. “Look at how uncomfortable she looks. It’s obvious she doesn’t want you guys to be involved with her friend for a reason. Think of how weird it is for her too if ever her co-worker and best friend dated. She’s going to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m not—”

“That makes sense,” your co-worker nodded beside you, “Are you sure you just don’t like him though?”

“Ew, why would I?” the food began to taste bitter through your lies, “He may be tall and attractive, but as his roommate, I’ve seen his ugly side. Satoru is a complete slob and can’t even cook to save his life.”

“I don’t mind cooking for him all the time if I were to be his little housewife.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” your words came out harsher than it was, and you laugh it off with a wave of your hand when your co-workers’ eyes widened. “I’ve been living with him for six months and he’s never brought anyone home or told me he’s going on a date. I told you already, he’s a no strings attached kind of guy. He’s nothing but a one night stand.”

“You have to admit he’s still sexy though.”

Right. You hide your groan through another shot because there’s no way of convincing them otherwise. As much as you hate to admit, you’re actually jealous on how freely they could talk about him like that, but then again, it’s not like you and Satoru were dating – or would ever date, for that matter.

They start to leave one by one when it starts to get late, leaving only you who’s still desperate to avoid Satoru. Nothing prepares you for when the sky darkens and a storm comes pouring just as you’ve left the closing shop, the rain drenching and soaking your clothes through and through. Running under the nearest tree for shelter, you shiver. It’s cold – way too cold – and curse yourself for not bringing a darned umbrella.

The nearest bus stop is like what, fifteen to twenty minutes away? Your teeth are chattering and your legs are shaking, and you fumble through your phone as you dial a number you know by heart before you even realize what you’re doing. “S-Satoru?”

“Y/N,” the surprise is unmasked in his voice, something shuffling in the background before it falls silent. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm, are you busy right now? It’s fine if you are, I’m just—”

“I’m training with Yuuji, but what is it?”

“Listen, I,” you inhale sharply when coldness bursts through your body, making you shiver and press yourself closer to tree to get away from the rain. Above you, thunder crackles before the rain grows heavier and angrier. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and I’m absolutely soaked right now. The nearest bus stop is fifteen minutes away and all the buildings here look so shady—”

“I’ll be on my way. Text me where you are,” You nod and thank him, too cold and numb to realize you’ve just broken days of silence. You lose track of time under there, hugging yourself until your lips turn blue. It doesn’t take long before Satoru shows up minutes later, his hair equally drenched and sticking flat to his eyes free from his blindfold while he pants, hand on his knees. “Thank goodness you’re safe. I rushed here so fast I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

After seeing Satoru drenched like that, something snaps within you. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact the rain is unforgiving as it slaps the pavement, and your heart breaks when you see that he’s more concerned for you – even after you’ve given him the silent treatment. “You idiot! Now you’re soaking wet too, you’re going to get sick!”

“Highly unlikely,” he shrugs. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“But what about—” Satoru suddenly carries you before draping his coat over your head, running until he found a cab to hail. He immediately asks the driver to turn up the heater while you tremble on top of him, not caring anymore that you’re sticking so close to him for heat.

Satoru doesn’t let you go all the way inside the apartment. He sets you down on the couch where you take off your wet clothes in haste, too cold with teeth chattering that you silently take the hoodie and boxers Satoru offers you, making sure to keep his gaze averted the whole time. Once fully dressed, you snuggle back into the sofa’s comfort, stiffening when the couch dips beside you.

Not a moment later, Satoru towel-dries your hair, leaving your mouth and throat dry with guilt. Even after you’ve unnecessarily been a bitch to him, he’s still so kind with you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Satoru...” you twiddle with your thumbs just as he starts to ruffle the towel in your hair, making sure to squeeze water out of the strands as he dries it. “About what happened the other day—”

“It didn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” his voice is cold’ monotonous and so emotionless you’re rendered speechless. “You can forget about it.”

“I...”

“You regret it, right?” he’s done with drying your hair, and he stands up to place the wet towels in the sink as you watch him stride all the way there. He’s changed his clothes too; looking comfortable in a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants, looking every bit the domestic boyfriend you’ve always wanted but can never have. “It’s fine. We can forget about it and go back to normal,” to emphasize his point, Satoru winks at you, though it does nothing but make your heart sink.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” your voice is small; hesitant and wavering with fear. “What if...the only reason I pulled away is because I wanted more of you?”

Satoru’s back freezes as he sets the towel aside. At this point, your heart is pulsing on your tongue, and you dig your nails onto your thighs when Satoru sits down next to you, right next to you. He’s silent the whole time; eyes calculatedly piercing through yours. Your breath hitches when his hands that are burning hot against your cold skin cups your jaw before his thumb runs across your lips, his eyes turning dark at your reactions.

“And what if I said I felt the same way?”

“I,” you gasp, closing your eyes because it all feels so surreal. “I like you, Satoru. I like you a lot and I—” he doesn’t let you finish. Soon, you find yourself in his lap with his hands cupping your cheeks while he smashes his lips onto yours.

Satoru is absolutely feral. He’s breathing hard and almost angry, even, with the way his teeth are biting down to nibble on your lips. You moan when he drags you closer, your clothed centre rubbing on his thigh with delicious friction. “You have no idea,” he rasps down on your lips, “how much I’ve fucking liked you ever since we were kids,” Satoru pushes his hoodie aside, revealing your sweet neck to him, and he doesn’t waste his time in sucking and abusing the poor flesh so he can mark you as his. “I’ve always wanted you, Y/N, it’s always you, always you.”

You fist his hoodie when Satoru sinks his teeth down into the juncture of your neck, his hands curious and exploring every inch of your body. He knows you’re naked underneath his clothes, but it’s a different thing when he actually feels your breasts right on his palm. Satoru tweaks the hardened bud in his fingers, growling when you moan at the contact and use his thigh to get off.

“You—” you gasp as you expose your neck to him, wild and needy as you keep rubbing your heat over his thigh. “—talk way too fucking much,” you scold, finally pushing his lips away from your neck. Satoru chuckles at your eagerness but you silence him by flinging his boxers off of your body and somewhere far away, exposing your heat slick with arousal right in front of him. His pupils blow in excitement, hands coming up to grab at your hips, but his attention is taken away when you nibble on his ear to whisper, “Shut up and fuck me.”

The simple command is enough to make his patience snap. In a flash, you’re pinned underneath him, whining and moaning when his finger meets no resistance as he slips it inside. “You’re that needy, huh?” he laughs even louder when you lose it, humping yourself on his finger because it’s not enough.

“Satoru,” you beg, clutching his bicep when he adds another finger in. “More.”

His fingers are so long, hitting places that your small ones could never reach. He begins to scissor his way in, his fingers deliciously rubbing against your velvety walls while pumping them inside and out in a speed that causes you to squelch around him.

It’s absolutely lewd how you’re eagerly spread out before him, but your head is clouded with lust, no longer hindered by shyness out of your need to cum. Your chest is rising heavily, his thumb now rubbing against your clit as he coaxes you to cum. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he kisses your cheeks, eyelids, nose, anywhere but your lips, his voice so gentle and innocent as if he’s not knuckle deep inside you. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Inside,” you whine, gasping when he brushes against a really sensitive spot that has you clamping down on him. “‘Toru, fuck, just fuck me.”

“Beg for it,” he smiles against your skin, relentless and harsh as he keeps pushing inside you. You feel him everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Another finger adds in until you’re dripping enough on his palm and staining the couch, but neither of you care. “I said, beg for it.”

“No,” you hold back, nearly crying out when he pulls your fingers out of you. That sudden emptiness is back again, but you don’t want to beg. You’ve never begged another man before, and this won’t be the first time you’ll be doing so either. You refuse to let him have the upper hand despite the crystal clear fact you’re already soaking wet for him, but because you’re stubborn, you only fumble with his sweatpants to spring his cock free.

He’s already dripping with pre-cum from the slit, his cock hard and angry. Despite his arousal, Satoru stops you from going further, using only one hand to trap both your wrists. “Beg for it,” he demands again, his other fist already pumping down on his shaft.

You nearly cry at the sight. Both of you are aware that Satoru is capable of pleasuring himself, but it’s not that easy for you. Your small, dainty fingers will never be parallel to the pleasure his long cock could give you. All you had to do was beg for it. He’s right there, within reach, if only you’d just –

Impatient for your answer, Satoru takes you by the hips and discards your hoodie in the process, sinking you down his cock, inch by delicious inch. You don’t hold back from the sensual and high-pitched moan that leaves your lips. He’s long, and the tip of his cock just about brushes your cervix when he bottoms out. He feels so good, so warm and huge and filling you up right where you want him to be. Your head falls down on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips, but Satoru has had enough.

“Fuck, look at you,” he presses on the bulge of his cock visible through your abdomen. “You’re so fucking small – how do you take me so well? I could ruin you. Do you want that? Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.”

“You think you can just leave me hanging like that, huh?” he slaps your ass, eliciting another moan from you and making you clench around his cock. Satoru falters for a moment. Before you can react, he stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist with nothing but his tip hitting inside you. “You’ve been so fucking mean – leaving me wanting you like that and ignoring me for days. Do you think you deserve this, huh?” Satoru kicks his door open at the same time he loosens his hold around your ass, making you slide down his length the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out just as Satoru begins to bounce you, your breasts following the motion of him fucking deep into you. “Fuck, Toru, that’s too—”

He’s so eager to fuck you, to make a mess out of you and have you losing your mind over his cock that he doesn’t even wait until you’re both on the bed. You no longer register when your back hits the pillow, or how your arms are frozen when he pins it above your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he watches you clench around him. You’re so small and his eyes zero in on the way your abdomen bulges then flattens again every time he pounds into you, rolling his hips in a way that has you screaming and thighs quaking. “Beautiful, beautiful, perfect,” the moment his hands grip at your hips to pin you down, you know he’s not going to stop. And you don’t want him to.

Satoru latches his lips around your right breast, gently grazing his teeth over it while his other hand pinches and rolls the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He feels so good – and you’re crying already by the time you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

The room is filled with the smell of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with his breathy grunts and your moans like heaven on his ears. Satoru wants you to feel how much he loves you – how much he adores you – and the pace he sets is torturous. He snaps his hips against yours and presses down on the bulge of his cock through your belly, chuckling when you tighten more around him.

Your head lols to the side, tears falling down your pretty face because of how rough he’s being. But you don’t complain, not when he’s filling you in so deep and he’s kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, making you feel nothing else and nobody else but him.

“You’re amazing,” he rasps, watching the way your tight cunt sucks him in greedily as if you don’t want him to go anywhere else. “You take me in so well – you really want me to destroy you, huh?”

“Satoru, please,” you finally plead, “I-I’m cumming, I want you, I need you, oh,” you squeal when he finally lets your arms free. You look so precious, so innocent, and he doesn’t let up his pace. He plants his feet into the ground and his strokes begin to grow sloppy, your tight walls encouraging him to go faster, go deeper.

If possible, Satoru is only even more fuelled with the way you look so precious and innocent in that moment. His touch is gentle in comparison to the way he’s mercilessly plowing into you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows he’s too big for you, that much is obvious from how much you’re already overstimulated just by his size, but your nails sink down on the flesh of his ass as a silent plead for more.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He fondled your clit, loving the sight of your small body creaming down on his cock. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you coming on my cock. Come on, tell me you’re mine. You’re made me for aren’t you?”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you squeal, throwing your head back for a second when he keeps hitting your g-spot that has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets behind you as he keeps impaling you with his cock right then and there.

You looked perfect; so perfect to him that he’s basically using you for his own pleasure at this moment. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, back arching and nipples brushing against his chest.

In that moment, you grow needy to have him even closer, tilting up to blindly search for his lips. Satoru complies; leaning down and leaving open mouthed breathy kisses that’s a mix of you moaning and crying around him, while he struggles to do so when he’s cursing at the feeling of you coating his cock with your juices. Satoru looks down at your tiny frame trapped in his arms, his voice husky as he groans once he saw both of your arousal absolutely leaking out of your wet cunt.

He’s so close but you’re already over the edge, scratching at his back at the overstimulation. You’re still so sensitive from when you came and Satoru doesn’t slow one down one bit. He loses his rhythm as his thrusts go sloppy, and Satoru buries his face in your neck as his cock twitches inside you until he bursts with his cum leaking out of your hole.

Satoru’s arms give out beneath you, his chest colliding with yours but not enough that he’s crushing you with his weight. You’re both breathing hard and panting, his dick softening inside you.

He pulls back a moment later to slide out his sensitive cock, wincing while he watches pools of cum gather in your pussy before it drips out. It isn’t until he’s witnessing the mess he’s made he realizes how you’ve been so good for him; taking him all the way in despite your quivering frame. It dawns on him now just how tiny you are when he pulls you close to him; you’re practically hanging off his chest with how small your body is.

He wonders how you’re able to fit all of him, but he’s grateful nevertheless. Satoru shows his appreciation by peppering kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to caress your inner thighs.

“Hmm,” you moan into the kiss, jolting when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit. “Satoru, no,” you whine while pushing his hand away, and he shushes you with another kiss. “’M too sensitive, please...”

“It’s fine, cupcake, it’s fine,” his nickname for you is back again, and you lean closer to him just as he begins to massage your sore legs. “You did so well for me, cupcake, you know that? You’re such a good girl for me,” too fucked out to have a comprehensive answer, you only nod in response, spreading your legs open again and ignoring the warm stickiness between your thighs as Satoru kneads your abused flesh. You feel him kiss your temple before he leaves to get a towel and cleans you up. Meanwhile, you’re so tired you’re about to doze out in his bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, bundling you up in his arms until you’re tucked in the safety of his body. So small, he coos inside his head, watching as you fold yourself even smaller while your eyes flutter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh into his shoulder, “I feel good. Thank you.”

Satoru doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for. He feels like he’s the one who’s mostly indebted to you after everything you’ve done for him. You’ve already fallen asleep before he gets the chance to tell you how he feels, so Satoru only covers you both under his blanket, making sure there’s no more space between you out of fear you’ll distance yourself from him again.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that because you’re right next to him, and you’re never out of reach.

7K notes · View notes

mythiccheroacademia · 5 years ago

Note

My bad, I’m just now seeing the rules😭 I’ll choose shiguraki, dabi, and Hawks for the time traveling kids reaction

A/N: You’re all good baby! I kept looking at this trying to come up with a fitting situation for them and then I dreamt about being in all three situations last night??? lmaooo it was both terrifying and lucky hehe~ Hopefully, it’s as good as I’m imagining it

Side Note: I’m writing this with a baby (thankfully, but unfortunately, not mine!) on my chest. Get on my level. Jk, but everyone say hi <3

Warnings: Cursing

Shigaraki Tomura:

you and shigaraki came back from your daily walks

aka, people watching

and you two planned to play on the PS4 later

whiles you’re setting up the TV in the living room, he goes to his room to get the console and remotes

he opens the door, sees a baby on his bed, then immediately shuts the door

goes to you and kurogiri

him: “any of you know why there’s a baby on my bed?”

kurogiri: a baby? 😐

you: a BABY!!!?? 😍💞💞

you rush in there and to your amazement, there is a baby no more than six or seven months, gurgling on the bed

kurogiri is giving tomura the most judgemental look and shigaraki kinda feels embarrassed even though he swears he didn’t do anything

“please don't tell me it’s yours”

“i can assure you, y/n and i use prot--”

“oh my gosh, shiggy, she looks just like you with my hair and nose!”

kurogiri is over it

tomura is malfunctioning

you’re gushing over the baby girl, totally ignoring the fact that a literal child, who just so happened to look like a perfect mix between you and tomura, just appeared like a sick magic trick

was it a quirk?

was it time travel??

did tomura knock you up and everybody just somehow forgot???

so many questions, so little answers

in order to keep from getting a migraine, everybody followed your train of thought and just went along with it for now

shigaraki was less than pleased that his plans with you had been scrapped

he spent the day going shopping (stealing) for diapers, getting formula, buying clothes, and buying toys

feeding the baby was annoying

changing her was a nightmare

shigaraki threatened to disintegrate the child if she puked on him one more time

but everyone just adores her

she’s such a cutie

her toothless smile just warms up everybody’s hearts

even kurogiri is smitten

the day ends with you, the baby, and shigaraki in his room, getting ready for bed

he’s grumbling bc “can’t we just leave her on the couch or something”

you ignore him and he’s forced to get in bed bc no matter what, he’d never give up the chance to cuddle with you...even if it is with some stupid baby

after she falls asleep, you sigh and lean on his shoulder

“you really think she’s ours?” you ask

he wants to say i hope not, but the way you look at him with all the hope in the world makes his heart tingle

instead of answering, he softly kisses your lips and tucks the both of you in

when you both wake up, the baby is gone--probably back to her timeline

you're a little sad and shigaraki only says what he says NOT BC HE THINKS IT’S TRUE OR SOMETHING but bc your misery makes him itch

“don’t worry. i’m sure we’ll see the brat again someday”

Dabi:

when you came back to your apartment, holding a load of groceries, you were quite surprised to see the situation at hand

in the middle of your living room was dabi, at his big ass age, wrestling with a kid that couldn't be older than 12

least to say, you were pissed

“come on, fess up you little runt. did my old man have another kid”

“for the last time, NO! i’m yours!!”

“stop lying! my pull out game is too strong for that”

“EW! get off of me you staple-faced, burnt chicken nugget lookin’ fu--”

that’s when you intervened

“chicken nugget lookin’ what?” you questioned, looking at the boy with the look™️

the boy’s expression went from angry to scared in 0.2 seconds

dabi’s kind of impressed

“father. i-i was gonna say father”

“oh, that’s what i thought bc if you were gonna say what i thought your were gonna say, then i’d have to whoop your ass. but you weren’t, correct?”

“no ma’am”

“so we’re good?”

“yes ma’am”

“perfect. now what’s this about him being your father?”

dabi is taking out of his smugness and flinches under the heat of your glare

you ask him one time who he slept with and when he tells you you're crazy, you lunge at him

your kid lets you get a couple of good hits in before he decides to drop the news that he’s you two’s son of three from the future

you pause, his hand on your face and your fist in his hair

“deadass?” dabi says

the boy nods his head and you two take the time to look at him

his features are undeniably yours and dabi’s; he was one of those kids that if you sat them next to one or the other, they could look like both parents

you two take it better than he thought you would

“i always knew you wanted kids with me. simp”

dabi can’t even deny it. he just rolls his eyes and acts all tough

then he asks, “you sure you’re not gonna get erased from the time continuum by telling us?”

the boy shrugs “i mean...i hope not”

it’s beyond y’all at this point

so you spend the day with the kid, who was named after Dabi (Touya Jr.), and it’s so obvious he’s a momma’s boy

he helps you cook, set the table, and wash the dishes

smiles at you like you’re the entire world

dabi is kind of jealous from all the attention you’re giving him

fumes at the middle finger junior sneakily flips at him

does it back

claims to hate the kid but wipes the crumbs off his lip without hesitation

junior got the itis and is down for a nap

calls you two mom and dad before falling asleep

you get all 🥺 and even dabi is a little nostalgic when junior disappears

it’s quiet for a moment and then he says,

“wanna do a practice round in baby-making. yknow? for the future”

you roll your eyes but you aint say no!

Takami Keigo (Hawks):

hawks didn't expect to see a tiny kid on the edge of a building on his day off

there wasn't a lot that scared him, but he couldn't deny the fear hammering against his ribcage as he saw the child look around before jumping

thank goodness his speed wasn’t just talk

he caught the girl who didn't look a day past six

he’s in the middle of giving her a huge lecture about safety and mental health, she just giggles and gives him the biggest kiss on the cheek

“haha! i knew you’d catch me if i fall, papa~”

he’s too angry to even register what she called him

“that was totally dangerous, kid! what if i hadn't seen you? then what?”

“then i would fly” she said like it was the most obvious thing

he’s dumbstruck as two beautiful white wings sprout out of thin air and allow her to float next to the hero with ease

hawks blinks bc yeah anyone could have wings, but he could tell that feather pattern from anywhere

it was his

it was like his own fingerprint was staring at him

did he accidentally knock someone up bc that would be a big uh-oh

y/n wouldn't like that at all

he asks the child who he is to her and she repeats, “papa~”

he then asks who the mother was and she goes, “mommy~”

she’s not the brightest crayon in the box, that’s for sure

“what’s mommy’s name, kid,” he asks with the patience of a saint

“Takami Y/N~”

“you’re coming with me”

flys across the city with conviction

you’re lying on your bed, face mask on and reading a book in peace before your oh so wonderful boyfriend comes crashing through your open window

you don’t even flinch. so used to his surprise visits, you close the book and sigh

“to what do i owe the great pleasure of having you break into my house? again”

hawks holds the cute girl up, squishing her cheek as she laughs from the adventure they just went on

“mommy!”

“surprise!”

this time, you drop the book

eventually, with some cupcakes and chicken, the little girl tells you two about how she went to play with some kid and got zapped by a quirk and ended up here

you also find out she’s the youngest of four

you look a little sick but keigo gives you a shit-eating grin

he’s so excited about having a family with you

you can’t deny the tingle in your heart

parades the girl around the house and they’re both laughing the same laugh, eyes bright with joy

it makes your heart hurt and now you have to join into the shenanigans

you spend the day playing games, doing face masks, and reading books to fall asleep to

when you wake up, she’s gone but keigo’s arms are still firmly wrapped around your waist

“so now that you know i’m gonna trap you with four kids, when are you gonna pop the question?” you joke

but hawks isn’t laughing. instead, he’s smiling at you in a way that makes your eyes widen

he digs in his coat and pulls out the ring

“i was gonna try and make it a little more romantic. but why wait? so, what do ya say to taking my last name?”

4K notes · View notes

lawxbread · 4 years ago

Note

I wasn’t sure where to send the request, but I was wondering is you could do an x reader where the reader was Ace’s girlfriend and after he died and the straw hats were on haitatus she went to train with Laws crew and they fall in love but she’s afraid of getting hurt again by losing someone she loves because important people seem to always die in her life

Hey,hey,hey!(bokuto's voice) Oh my god! I really enjoyed writing this, thanks for sending me this awesome plot!! Lol I tried my best but I think I was too descriptive (I got too excited and this got longer than I planned...) But I hope you like it!

A/N: I rushed at the end because I felt every brain cell of mine dying as i wrote the smut scene lmaooo

Sorrow

Synopsis: You were Ace's girlfriend and since when he died you've been afraid of losing someone again. Your heart is wrapped up. You feel solitary. But... What if the doctor, Captain Of the Heart Pirates, heals your pain by making you realize that you are capable of loving again?

"I can't control myself anymore"

"Make me yours, Law"

Warnings: angst, smut, implied death, unprotected sex, swear-word

Word count: 3K

It's all dark. You feel something touching your skin lightly. That touch... you recognize it, that warm touch you are so used to. Suddenly, your vision comes to be brighter, a few seconds have passed when you feel a breath on your face, then you finally see it, It's the man you loved wildly: Portgas D. Ace. As soon as you see him, he stops touching you, posteriorly Ace looks at you with tears in his eyes and starts running away. You don't understand what the hell is happening so you just try to reach him, "Wait!! Ace!!!" : You try to scream but, for some reason, your voice doesn't come out. When you realize, Ace abruptly fades away and then the surroundings are no longer warm. You start to cry, still trying to scream his name but not a single word comes out of your mouth. A deadly hush. "ACE!!! NO!" you try again, nothing. All your efforts are ineffective. You start blaming yourself, hopeless.

"Y/N- ya!!". You hear someone yells. Attempting to come back to your senses, you slowly open your eyes. You feel your sweat rolling down your face and take a deep breath until you feel steady. Eventually, everything seems regular. You see Trafalgar Law staring at you with an apprehensive look and it doesn't take long for him to ask

" Another nightmare, Y/N- ya?"

"Uh... Apparently yes." You retort, then add "Law... When will this pain go away?"

"It depends on you. Everyone has their traumas, I know it's not easy... But, Y/N, you have to move on." Law replies, using a concerned voice tone.

You start to cry, then you get up from the bed and instantly hug Law. He freezes.

"H-hey...Y/N-ya...uhh. Everything will be alright..." He says embarrassed while patting your back

Law gently moves you away and says "Y-you should grab something to eat, Bepo prepared a breakfast."

"What the hell I just did??!" You think, blushing as you realize the hug you gave Law.

"O-Ok" You declare.

You were Ace's girlfriend. One year has passed since your boyfriend's death. Portgas D. Ace wasn't just some guy you dated, he was, foremost, your best friend and the only person you could count on.

Your parents died when you were just 10 years old and you grew up cleaning houses, selling stuff you found in the junk, and doing any kind of service for other people. All of these just to survive, relying on a very small amount of money. Then, you met Ace, when you both were 18 years old, he helped you by beating some thieves that stole bellies from you, and little by little you fell in love with each other. Two years have passed when you heard that Ace was captured by the Blackbeard Pirates and taken over by the Navy, who would execute him at Marine Ford. You wanted to go save him immediately but when you declared to the WhiteBeard you would save Ace with him, he didn't let you go. Whitebeard ordered some of his sons to stay with you and prevent you from going with the rest of the numerous crew, as Whitebeard knew that Ace wouldn't be happy to see his girlfriend in the middle of a war. You tried to fight back but it was worthless.

You couldn't sleep and eat properly, fretted over Ace's life. Then, you heard the choking news: Ace died in Luffy's arms at Marine ford.

You couldn't believe it, you just couldn't.

You suffered so much, you only wanted to die because you had totally lost the reason for continuing to exist. Until 1 month after Ace's death, a huge yellow submarine appeared in front of you, and Trafalgar Law came out of it saying that Luffy asked him to take you and make you stay with his crew. You didn't have anything to lose so you just accepted the offer. Since then, you've been training with Law while the rest of the straw hats are on hiatus.

It's not that you still can't accept Ace's death, you know presently that this kind of tragedies happens. It's just that... you are afraid that something similar occurs again. You are so attached to the Heart Pirates Crew, they are like a family to you, and Law has been great to you ...so your biggest fear is losing them. This sort of thought results in constant nightmares, leaving you scared when you wake up.

"Good morning, everyone!" You say as you approach the kitchen with Law.

Bepo and Shachi are eating some fried eggs and cake, discussing something about the fish Bepo fished earlier being poisonous.

"Hello, Y/N!! Did you have another frightening nightmare?" Bepo asks.

"Yeah, nothing new..." You retort while taking a piece of bacon.

As you walk towards the dinner table to sit on a seat next to Shachi, you notice Law staring at you non stop, making your heart races. "Uhm, what feeling is this?", you keep thinking about it but don't understand what is going on with you so you just ignore it.

The things between you and Law have been weird in the past 3 months since you joined the crew one year ago. He seems more comprehensive with you than usual, Law used to argue with you every time you did something wrong but now... He's changed, in a certain way.

You seat next to Shachi, in front of Bepo and Law. As soon as you realize, Shachi puts on your plate a piece of the cake he is eating.

" Hey, Y/N-chan, you should try this", Shachi says as he looks at you with a smirk.

"Oh, thanks..." You say in an embarrassed voice tone, trying to be polite.

You look at Law and he is still gazing at you, but now he seems uneasy.

You eat the cake, unintentionally, leaving a crumb on the right corner of your mouth.

"Y/N-ya, there's a crumb right there," Law tells you as he points from his seat at the crumb left on your mouth.

"Here?" You attempt to clean it, but you don't succeed since you can't see it.

Shachi quickly says "Let me clean it for you." He presses his finger against the crumb, taking it off for you. Then he caresses your cheeks "Done, Y/N-chan". He gives you a smirk.

You are uncomfortable, really uncomfortable. "T-thanks..." You stutter.

You look at Law and he looks pissed as hell but you don't understand why, you just suppose he woke up in a bad mood today.

Law gets up from his chair not saying anything, then he utters "Y/N, a word?"

You don't comprehend why he called you and interrupted your meal, but you feel relieved since you don't have to stand Shachi's inconvenience anymore. You obey him, following Law to his office.

Law could wait for you to eat but he was irritated seeing Shachi shamelessly hitting on you, so he called you just to get you out of there, he knew you were uncomfortable. Besides Law was worried about you, he was jealous. Actually, you are a breath-taking girl, really stunning and beautiful so most of the crew's men always hit on you when they get the chance of doing so. It bothers Law a lot but you'd never imagine that.

As soon as you enter the office, you shut the door. You notice that Law isn't looking you in the eye and then he starts seeking some papers that he left in one of the desk drawers. He grabs the papers and says:

"Y/N-ya, I think I don't have to train you anymore, you seem prepared enough to train haki by yourself from now on." Then, still avoiding to look at you, he orders, coldly.

"So, I need some favors, take these papers that have a list of tasks for you to do at the submarine, most of them are related to repair stuff. " Law putts them in your hands.

"What? Why all of this so suddenly?" You ask.

"It's nothing. Just go." Law replies, indifferently.

You left the office questioning yourself if you've done something wrong for Law to act that way. But not a single idea comes to your mind, so you just decide to do what he ordered since he is your captain.

Six days have passed since then, you've been doing repairs and improvements all over the submarine, and when you get the chance, you train haki and fight skills by yourself. Since the day Law acted weird, he's been more absent than before. Plus, he avoids you every time you try to reach him and you don't understand why, but seeing Law ignoring you makes you feel sad for some reason. You start to think that there's a remote chance of ~maybe~ you had catch feelings for Law. But... You don't wanna accept them, thinking about how much you loved Ace and he died abruptly makes you feel hesitant to love someone again. You are already afraid of losing Law, if you fall in love with him, you fear that the pain you'd feel if he dies, would be worse, like how happened between you and Ace.

On your way towards your room, you see Law entering his office so you decide to go talk to him and ask him why he's acting like that.

You knock on the door. "Come on in," Law says.

As soon as Law sees you, he instantly changes his facial expression, he seems more anxious, uneasy.

"Hi, Law. Can I talk to you for a second?" You ask him as you slowly approach his desk.

"Yes. But be brief, I'm busy." He declares with a coldhearted tone of voice, still avoiding your stares.

"So..." You take a deep breath, then let out "Why you've been avoiding me these past days? Have I done something wrong?"

Law quickly replies, "I'm not avoiding you. Are you done?"

"Liar, you can't even look me in the eye!!"

Silence fulfills the room as Law puts his hands on his forehead, letting his head rests on them. You try to understand whatever is going on, a sentiment of heavy tension appears when you look at Law.

Tension. Simply, tension.

Law , still with his head down, finally confesses "Y/N-ya...Yes, I've been avoiding you" He mumbles. "Do you really wanna know the reason?"

"Yes!! I'll try my best to help you with whatever is making you feel low!" You declare.

"I don't think you can help me, but... I can't control myself anymore when I'm by your side.Y/N-ya..." Law admits as he finally stares back at you, and this time, he's looking deeply into your eyes.

You freeze.

"W-what? What do you mean by that?" You certainly think you misunderstood his words.

" I have feelings for you," Law confesses directly, leaving you no more doubts.

You try to keep your composure, but it looks like you are on fire, your whole body is steaming. You don't know what to do so you just stand still, staring at Law with a shocking glance.

"Y/N-ya...You don't have to return my feelings, I won't compel you to do anything about it." Law says, then he gets up from his chair, approaching you, so he adds "Look, it's just that it's hard for me to see you and couldn't be able to announce you're mine. I don't know when it started, maybe 3 months ago so you can just ignore it and I'll move on."

"Law..." you mumble, an immense desire to cry emerges, so when you least expect it, you are covered in tears.

Law looks surely worried about you, he attempts to approach you even more but you are moving away from him.

"Law..." You cover your eyes with your hands as you cry, "I-I think I feel the same but..." You sigh, "I'm afraid... I'm afraid of losing you! I can't go through that again."

You are crying a lot but you stop when Law abruptly hugs you.

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/N-ya." Law whispers.

Important people seem to always die in your life, you lost your parents when you were just 10, and then you lost Ace... This fear that haunts you has total control of your mind, but, somehow, the last few words that Law said to you comforted your troubled soul.

"Y/N-ya, take your time," Law says as he sweetly moves you away, now you both are no longer hugging, but staring deeply at each other. "I'll wait for you to make your decision, please rest...have a good night," Law says then opens the door for you

"Good night, Law..." You leave his office and go straight to your bedroom.

Two months have passed and surprisingly you didn't have any nightmare during its period. You felt so calm when Law hugged you and said he wouldn't go anywhere, since that day you've been wondering if you are capable of giving love a second chance. Besides, Law is still waiting for your decision but you can't just get through your trauma so easily; however, the time you took to think was enough for you to understand that you were worrying too much about an uncertain future. You thought a lot about it and figured it out that you have strong feelings for him, the idea of having him by your side is being more recurrent in your mind than the idea of losing him. You certainly want him, you want him so bad.

Since the day Law confessed to you, he is no longer avoiding you and everything is natural between you two. As he is respecting your time and not bringing the relationship matter back.

You have made your decision. Maybe...It's time for you to move on and tell Law what you want the most: him.

It's 2 am when you decide to go see Law and tell him your decision, you couldn't wait anymore longer. You go straight towards his bedroom to check if Law is still up and notice that the door is half-open so you slowly push it.

"Law...?" You mumble as you enter the bedroom. You don't see him anywhere. A few seconds have passed when suddenly Law appears right behind you.

"Y/N-ya?" Law says, he looks kind of surprised. You turn back to see, then you gradually make steps forwards "I'm sorry I was at the kitch-" You kiss his lips wildly, interrupting Law's words.

Still with his eyes open, Law can't believe what's going on. He stops you from kissing him, "H-hey....Y/N-ya w-what are you doing?" he stutters.

"Oh, I made my decision, Law." You confess "I realized that I want you much more than I fear losing you. It seems confusing but..." You look down, "I don't want to live the rest of my life wondering what my life would have been like with you. I really want to live it." Law smiles.

You add "I don't care about the future anymore, we are in the present and I want you right now!"

"Y/N-ya, I want you so much, and hearing from you that you got over your fear really makes me glad..." Law kisses your forehead.

You look back at him, you both exchanging stares, "I want you, you want me so... please, make me yours, Law"

Law doesn't hesitate a second, he kisses your lips remarkably as he slowly shuts the door. Law puts you against the wall and starts kissing your neck and touching your right breast with his left hand. You let out a groan.

"Y/N-ya, you make me so..." Law whispers while he takes off your shirt then he kisses your neck again, leaving it marks.

"L-law??" you mutter as you are blushing, you just can't believe it, you want him right now.

He presses his body against yours while he also kisses your lips, you feel his hard manhood touching your thigh. Your whole body is on fire, he unhurriedly moves down his right hand until it reaches your cunt, Law dry rubs it using his index finger as you moan. You can't stand it anymore, the heat between your both bodies is driving you insane, plus his warm touches all over your trunk.

"Y/N-ya..." Law takes off his shirt and pants, revealing his ample chest with his tattoos, muscles and his bulky underwear, indicating his cock's hardness. Everything about him turns you on. "Take off your skirt and panties ", Law orders, his eyes: full of desire. You obey him, embarrassingly. Law watches every movement of you taking off your remaining clothes, hardening his cock even more.

Unawares, Law took off his underwear, showing his thick and lengthy dick. Your face turns flushed.

Law holds you by the waist, making you put your legs around his hips, he controls your waist back and forth bringing in your pussy to rub his cock's tip for some seconds. " Y/N-ya... I can't hold it anymore". He stops then lifts you in his arms, leading you to his bed.

He lays you on the bed, lying on all fours on top of you and so he starts to gently caress your face, hair,ear... Unexpectedly, you feel the tip of his manhood lightly touching your entrance, then, Law holds your hands, pushing your arms against the mattress. So he starts penetrating, "Fuck. It's so tight" Law exclaims. The impact sound of skin against skin is gradually increasing, Law is moving faster and faster, you can't help but moan, moan a lot.

"L-Law" you call out his name, "L-Law".

" I love you, Y/N-ya," Law says while he moves into you, you are so close to reaching your climax, and so do him, that in you head only Law and you exist, so your vision starts to blur; you felt like fire was running through your veins instead of blood. "Law, I'm...almost..." you finally achieve your culmination.

"Y/N-ya" Law stutters your name as he releases his cum inside you. Law takes a deep breath then he lays down next to you and you both embrace each other.

Law kisses your forehead, "I'm not going anywhere, Y/N-ya. It's a promise." He whispers.

So you reply to him, "I know." and after a few cuddles you both fall asleep.

#one piece scenario #one piece x reader #law x reader #one piece angst #one piece smut #one piece oneshot #trafalgar law #one piece #one piece imagine

233 notes · View notes

bellafarella · 4 years ago

Text

What’s mine is yours

Summary: Mickey wears one of Ian's shirts and they end up having the best day together

Notes: Hey yall! So we all saw that photo Jim (Kermit) posted that had Mickey - because that was definitely a Mickey outfit - in what is 100% one of Ian's shirts on under a cut-off flannel top (they were filming for 11x10 it seems) and my brain came up with this.

Thank you, @mariss-ugh, for helping me come up with some ideas/lines for this when we were both supposed to be working this afternoon lmaooo

I hope yall enjoy this! 💖

Read here

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

Getting ready together in this room takes a lot of maneuvering. Good thing living together in this room for the better part of a year - even in a small prison cell together - has made Mickey and Ian become in sync with each other. They’re able to move around each other without accidentally smacking the other anymore.

They aren’t working today so they don’t have much planned but Ian insists they do something. Mickey just thinks Ian hates sitting around the house because any time Mickey suggests they just do nothing he vetoes it. Must be all those weeks of Mickey not working giving Ian horrible flashbacks. They’re getting ready together - Mickey finishes buttoning his dark slim fit jeans before rummaging through their shared dresser for a shirt. Their clothes are all mixed together, not seeing any point in splitting it up, it’s pretty obvious whose clothes are who’s considering their height difference. Mickey finds a long sleeved beige - white - he’s not sure what fuckin’ color it is - top with a few buttons at the chest, he doesn’t care what top it is, he just cares that it’s clean so he puts it on. He isn’t feeling just this so he grabs one of his cut-off flannel shirts - it’s grey and white - and puts that on over the shirt. It ends up matching and he looks himself over in the mirror, thinking to himself that he looks fuckin’ good.

He turns around and sees Ian watching him. He’s got on some dark jeans too and a black crewneck sweater. He smirks at him, damn his husband is fine. Mickey is about to walk over to him and show him how hot he thinks he is when Ian says, “That’s my shirt,” eyebrows furrowed together.

“Don’t think so, this is obviously mine,” Mickey says, eyebrows raised as he picks at his flannel top.

Ian rolls his eyes. “Not that one, dumbass, the one under it. It’s obviously mine, look at how big the sleeves are on you,” he points to his arm where the sleeves are rolling down his wrists and covering his hands.

Mickey waves him off. “So what? What’s mine is yours and yours is mine, bitch,” he says pointing to his ring sitting on his finger, constantly loving the feel of it, like it’s grounding him in place. “Pretty sure it’s in the vows or some shit.”

Ian rolls his eyes again, exacerbated by his husband. “Don’t think that includes clothes, Mick,” he tells him.

“What the fuck ever, man, I look good,” he tells him.

“I mean…” Ian trails off, stepping closer and into his space. “You’re not wrong,” he adds when he’s towering over him. Mickey has to strain his neck back to look up at him. Ian’s hand comes up to cradle the back of his head before leaning forward and kissing him hard on the lips. Mickey moans into the kiss, his hands moving to hold onto his sides, sliding to his back and down to grope his ass in those jeans.

Ian moans, pressing himself completely against Mickey, opening his mouth to him to have their tongues move softly against each other in a passionate and heated kiss. He can feel Mickey’s hardness through his jeans on his leg and he’s sure his husband feels his too.

They pull apart briefly to breathe and Ian feels the need to keep teasing, “I’m just saying… I don’t wear your clothes.”

Mickey rolls his eyes at him. “No shit, Jolly Green Giant,” he says. “You and those daddy long legs won’t fit in my clothes.”

Ian grins, wanting to laugh but stuck on hearing that word. “Mmm, call me ‘daddy’ again,” he purrs.

Mickey laughs, “Fuck off, we’re not still doing that shit.” Ian hovers his lips by Mickey’s, his hot breath on him, teasing him. Ian bites his own bottom lip, his eyes flicking up from Mickey’s lips to lock with his eyes. Mickey sees how dark Ian’s eyes are and he’s so fucking hard, his dick is straining against the zipper of his jeans. “A-are we?” he stutters out. Ian smirks at him before laughing. Smug bastard. Mickey pushes him lightly. “You’re a dick,” he says before laughing.

“You’re just so easy,” Ian teases him, coming back into his space and grabbing onto his hips.

“Yeah, like you’re not?” Mickey challenges.

Ian smiles at him sweetly and says, “I’m definitely easy for you, baby.”

“I hate you,” Mickey laughs.

Ian laughs too and they meet for a kiss but it’s all teeth since they can’t stop smiling into it. Ian pulls back, still smiling as he looks at Mickey. He nods his head back towards the door and says, “Common.”

Mickey sighs making Ian grin as he takes his hand and leads them out of the room and down the stairs. Everyone’s already gone for the day, doing their own thing, so they get downstairs to an empty house. “You sure you wanna leave when we have the house to ourselves for the first time since our fuckin’ wedding?” Mickey asks. The pandemic hit soon after they got married and for months it was everyone home, all the time. Especially with Debbie in jail for a bit and Liam and Franny not in school.

Ian gives him a look. “Like everyone being home has stopped us before?”

He’s got him there. “True, but…”

“Mickey,” Ian says in this voice that just gets Mickey to want to give him the entire goddamn world.

He relents, following Ian through the house and out the front door, but not before grabbing their masks that Mickey just puts in his front jean pocket, Ian putting his on but immediately pulling it down so it just acts like a chin guard - ready at a moment's notice.

Still feeling giddy from before, Ian reaches for his hand and interlaces their fingers. Mickey smiles down at their hands, love seeing how Ian’s long fingers wrap around his, before looking up at Ian and rolling his eyes, making Ian grin and squeeze his hand.

Being married has not been easy. Especially being newly married and thrust into quarantine for months. They survived it like they’ve survived much worse and yeah, they bicker. That’s all they fuckin’ do some days but Mickey’s never been happier in his life. He knows Ian feels the same. So on days like today, when there hasn’t been any bickering yet and Ian is smiling at him the way he is, Mickey can’t help but let Ian hold his hand as they walk down the street. If someone wants to say something to them, he’ll make them regret it - by beating the absolute fuck out of them.

“What are you thinking about?” Ian asks him, watching him.

“About where the fuck you could be taking me.”

“I don’t know honestly,” Ian tells him. “There’s not much we can do in a pandemic.”

“So then why the fuck did we leave the house?!”

“We spend every day off at home, I wanted to do something fun with you, fuck you very much,” Ian says, rolling his eyes.

Mickey notices they’re still holding hands and Ian seems to at the same time and they both just smile at each other. Mickey feels ridiculous but he loves this big, dumb, idiot.

“Oh! We could grab a six pack and head to the dugout or the bleachers,” Ian suggests.

Mickey rolls his eyes but he lets out a small chuckle. That’s always their go to. Has been the entire pandemic especially. He can’t think of anything better so he says, “Fine, why the fuck not?”

Ian grins and tugs on his hand, leading them to the nearest shop that’s open.

They managed to get through the six pack together sitting in the grass under the bleachers - they decided on that because it was closer and that day Mickey saw Ian again for the first time flashed before his eyes. Like the bleachers? It’s our spot, man. It was an obvious choice for them to go there.

Ian had two beers and Mickey four - Ian’s meds, while they are balanced, still make his tolerance pretty fuckin’ low most of the time. Ian’s been working out and got bigger throughout quarantine - not that Mickey’s complaining, quite the opposite actually, he fuckin’ loves it. He throws Mickey around so easily, it gets him hard just thinking about it. With him being a bit bigger and his meds fucking with his tolerance, Ian’s just at the cusp of drunk, whereas Mickey is just pretty tipsy with his four beers.

Ian’s chatty when he drinks - he’s chatty always but he rambles when he’s drunk and Mickey has no idea what he’s talking about anymore so he leans forward, kissing him on the lips.

Ian kisses him back, his hands coming up to hold his face in place, slipping his tongue into his mouth. Mickey didn’t expect Ian to kiss back so intensely but he’s not complaining. He scoots closer, grabbing onto his arms.

Ian bites Mickey’s lower lip, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes. “What was that for?”

“Think you’re the one that intensified it. I was just trying to get you to shut the fuck up,” Mickey teases.

Ian laughs making Mickey chuckle seeing his face light up and hearing that perfect sound - his laughter. “You’re such a dick,” he says when he stops laughing, still smiling.

“Still married me,” Mickey says, eyebrow raised.

“I’d do it all over again if I could,” Ian says softly before kissing him just as softly on the lips once. “And again,” he says before repeating the same soft kiss.

Mickey smiles into it. “Cheesy motherfucker,” he says before Ian kisses him softly and mutters, “And again.”

Mickey laughs, shoving at him lightly. Ian takes that as a challenge, wrestling him to the ground making them both laugh as Ian pins him under him. Ian grinds his pelvis against him and Mickey raises his eyebrows, “Mm, gonna fuck me right here, Milkovich?”

Ian grins at the sound of him calling him by Mickey’s last name. “Maybe,” Ian says, eyeing him. He presses his groin into him again, thrusting lightly against him, making Mickey moan softly, biting his bottom lip. “Looks like you want it, Gallagher,” he teases.

Mickey smirks, eyebrows wiggling.

“Hey, you can’t fuck under there!” someone calls out causing them to both look up at a bike cop watching them. They look at each other, rolling their eyes.

Ian gets off of Mickey and they both sit up. The cop is about to leave when Mickey calls out, “Fucked plenty of times under here before.”

Ian smacks his arm before the cop says, “Okay, out of there. Now.”

“Idiot,” Ian says to him.

The cop starts to approach when they don’t move so they get up and head out from the bleachers about to pass the cop. “Easy shaft, we’re leaving,” he tells him, eyeing him.

Ian grabs his shoulders from behind and leads him off. “We’re going,” Ian tells him. “My brother’s a cop by the way.”

“I don’t give a shit, go,” the cop tells them.

Mickey tries to turn but Ian stops him, leading them out. “Parole, Mickey,” Ian whispers to him as he leads him towards the street.

“The fuck are we gonna do now? I lost my buzz,” Mickey complains when they get on the sidewalk.

“Common,” Ian says, taking his hand again and leading the way.

“The Alibi, we’re here all the time,” Mickey complains when they get there.

“We’re never only here to drink though,” Ian tells him.

Mickey arches his brow, “What fuckin’ difference does that make?” but Ian’s already walking in so he follows him.

They take a seat at the bar, next to each other and Kev says, “Hey, what are you two doing here?”

“Drinking, this is a bar, dumbass,” Mickey shakes his head.

“Two beers, Kev,” Ian tells him, taking Kev’s eyes away from Mickey and to him. “Thanks.” Kev nods at him before turning to grab some glasses. “Oh and two shots of Jameson!” Ian adds while his back is turned.

“Oh so we’re drinking drinking? Okay,” Mickey says, nodding and smiling, liking this day a lot more than he anticipated.

Ian winks at him, making Mickey smile at him flirtily. “Okay, keep it PG, you can’t fuck in here anymore. It’s not sanitary,” Kev tells them when he sets their beers in front of them, catching the eyes they were giving each other. “Cause of COVID,” he adds when they both turn to look at him.

“No shit, sherlock,” Mickey tells him. Ian squeezes his thigh making his eyes snap back to him. They both pick up their beers and Ian clinks his against Mickey’s before taking a drink.

“What are you wearing?” Tommy asks from two stools over.

Mickey turns to face him. “You talking to me?” he asks, pointing to his own chest.

“Yeah,” Tommy says, turning to face him in his stool. He eyes him before asking, “Is that Ian’s shirt? Aww how cute!” he teases.

Mickey flips him off and says, “So what if it is?”

“Nothing, Mick, just cute you sharing clothes, those long sleeves on your little arms,” Tommy says.

Mickey’s eyebrows shoot up. “The fuck did you just say to me?” He’s about to get up when Ian pulls the back of his shirt, sitting him back down.

“Mickey,” he says simply.

Mickey shakes him off but stays seated. “Watch your mouth and I won’t beat the shit out of you. Next time, you won’t be so lucky,” he warns Tommy.

Tommy nods, “Sure, Mick,” he says sarcastically.

“Shots,” Ian says then, getting Mickey’s attention back on him. He ignores Tommy and turns back to his husband who winks at him as he lifts his shot glass up. Mickey follows suit and they knock them back.

They don’t stay much longer, haven gotten too handsy at the bar, Kev told them to get a room so they decided to do just that and go home.

They’re both drunk - Ian more so than Mickey - and singing as they walk home, making people look at them weird especially since they both don’t have masks on in the middle of a pandemic and are walking around outside around other people. They don’t give a shit, just flipping people off who give them weird looks.

Everyone’s home apart from Carl - lucky him - but they ignore them to run upstairs and close their makeshift door closed. Groans and complaints coming from them on their way up. They fuck quick and fast, all pent up energy from the day they had, before laying spent on the bed together, naked and regaining their breaths.

Ian turns his head to look at Mickey, smiling he says, “I had fun with you today.”

“What? Like you don’t every day?” Mickey teases him, pretending to be offended.

Ian smacks his chest lightly, chuckling. “Obviously I do, you’re always such a goddamn delight trying to fight everyone,” Ian teases right back.

“Fuck off,” Mickey laughs. “Who did I try to fight?” Ian laughs so hard Mickey shoves him, chuckling, “Fuck you.”

Ian turns on his side to face Mickey full on. “I love you but you literally tried to fight everyone today that wasn’t me for once,” Ian says, smirking.

Mickey turns also so he could face him. “I’m not the one who nags you every single day of my life.”

“I’m your husband, I’m allowed to nag you,” Ian says before reaching out and cupping Mickey’s face, his fingers moving back and into the hair at the nape of his neck, the cool ring on his finger touching Mickey’s heated skin, making him smile brighter than Ian’s words made him. Ian leans forward and kisses him on the lips. It’s soft, sweet, and short but it’s perfect.

“I guess you’re allowed,” Mickey says against his lips, making Ian smile brightly before kissing him again.

Ian pulls back after a few lazy moments of kissing to say, “I like the way you smell, anyway.”

“What?” Mickey asks, confused as to why he’d stop kissing to say that.

“It’s fine that you wore my shirt today ‘cause I like the way you smell,” Ian clarifies, making Mickey blush. He smiles at him softly, caressing his cheek. He brings their lips back together, showing him how much he loves him without having to obviously say the words.

Mickey didn’t expect the day that they had to happen when he woke up this morning and put Ian’s shirt on but it was perfect and he wouldn’t trade this life with Ian for anything in the world.

#my fic #gallavich #gallavich fanfic #gallavich fanfiction #ian x mickey #ian x mickey fan fic #gallavich fic #gallavich fan fic #read on ao3 #ao3 fic #shameless us #future fic #based off of a picture #fluff

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dreamescapeswriting · 5 years ago

Text

Min Yoongi || His Weakness [MafiaAU]

Summary: Your father sells you to Min Yoongi, the Mafia leader…lmao read it bitches

Genre: angst - fluffy? -

Word count - 6,350 (This was supposed to be short lmaooo)

Warnings: MafiaAU, violence is mentioned a lot, abuse is also mentioned so if you’re not comfortable with it please don’t read as I don’t want to trigger anybody as I know how that feels. Swearing is involved a lot too.

A/N: Credit for the edited Yoongi picture @lovies-kpop-fan-fiction love you boo boo

You were a lot of things but stupid wasn’t one of them, your father was addicted to gambling and alcohol which wasn’t a great combination given the line of work he was in, you knew he was involved with bad people, you’d grown up with everything going on around you, it was hard to shelter yourself from it, your mother tried her best until the day she had enough and left you alone with him, that was almost six years ago and ever since you’d been the mother of the household. Looking after your father when he came in from one of his missions or late night drinking binges, you cleaned up the house and looked after anyone that came round with wounds that needed healing, it was your job now seeing as though you were the only woman of the house. You’d grown to expect a few surprised being thrown in from your father, like the time he brought home a man with a bullet wound in his arm, telling you, not to heal him, but to make him worse. Pressuring you about how it’ll make you stronger as a person, once you refused that was it, a smack across the cheek, it was nothing to some other things you had received in the past from him.

What you didn’t expect though on a Sunday at 5 am when your father normally stumbled through the door with his suit a mess, his hair in state and eyes starting to shut from the night he’d had, was the front door being booted open and six men rushing into the home aiming guns in every direction until they found you resting on the kitchen island in your short Pyjama pants and a long-sleeved shirt, a mug of tea in your hand as you’d just woken up to start your day off.

“We’ve found her boss.” One of the taller men out of the six came forward, his face covered back a black hood the only thing you could see was his eyes that were staring into yours, you nervously put down the cup you were holding and held up your hands, no clue if they were police or another one of your dad’s friends, but from the way you were acting you gathered, they weren’t friends at all.

“On your knees, hands where we can see them.” A shorter one demanded in a deep voice, you slowly slid down off the counter top and got down onto your knees, bringing your hands to your head and holding them at the back of your skull, you’d seen your father arrested a countless number of times and knew what to do in this situation.

“Boss said to get her in the car and bring him straight to his, blindfold.” The same taller one from before ordered, taking a blindfold from another hooded member and covering your eyes. You heard the metal before you felt it against your skin, the cold handcuffs making you shiver as they were slotted against your wrists, you wanted to call out and ask what was going on but you knew better than to question someone who was aiming a gun at you.

Being thrown against a carpeted floor was not what you had planned for the morning, your knees burnt as you scraped them along the rug, you heard shuffling around you and muffled speaking, you knew you were in a room in someones home that was around thirty minutes away from your own, having counted in the back of the van you were placed in after being taken from your home, in a secluded area because whoever was driving wasn’t used to coming down back alleyways to get here with a van you were in.

“Be careful with her.” Someone barked, you weren’t used to anyone’s voices and you couldn’t tell anyone apart, you heard a door open and close before a chair was moved and people fell into a completely silent, the only thing that could be heard was people breathing.

“This her?” Someone asked in a thick accent, you frowned under the blindfold still confused as to what was going on around you when you heard another voice speak, a voice you knew all too well in the years of him raising you.

“Yes, that’s her.” The blindfold was ripped away from your eyes, the sudden exposure to bright light caused your eyes to water before tightly shutting, having no time to even adjust to it. Slowly you opened them, the light not bothering so much as before, you glanced around the room, six men and your father were all standing around looking at you, while another was sitting in a giant leather chair behind an oak desk, his hands on the desk in front of him studying you. He was dressed in an all-black suit, thick-rimmed black glasses were on his face, you looked down at his neck to spot a rose and tiger tattoo, then back to his face again taking in his facial features, dark eyes that were boring into yours and bleach blonde hair.

“She cooks, she cleans, she’s real housewife material I promise Yoongi sir,” You blinked at your father, Was he trying to sell you off for more money? Or worse drugs? The man at the desk leaned back in his chair and continued to stare at you before directing his attention to your father, it was now that you took in your dad’s appearance, he was knelt on the floor, hands cuffed behind his back, his face badly bruised and bleeding from his nose, lips and a cut above his eyebrow, you’d seen him in worse states but his hair was a mess, messier than if he’d been on an all-night drinking binge.

“She will do until you pay me what you owe me.” All eyes were back on you, yours meeting the man who was sitting in the chair he looked as though he was contemplating what he was about to say before he slammed his hands onto the desk and stood up.

“Take her to her room Jin, don’t talk to her.” He warned giving someone a warning look behind you, you were yanked up by two different arms and you were staring at your father, tears in your eyes as he was uncuffed and sent out of a separate door while you were still cuffed and being dragged away by a man you didn’t know without any explanation as to what was going on, you were being dragged towards one when Yoongi’s hand went up to signal for the men dragging you to stop, they did instantly and you were able to stand up alone instead of having your feet dragged along the floor and receiving more carpet burn. The blonde got up from behind the desk and made his way over to you, he was shorter than the rest of them but not by much, you were still shorter than him, he took a deep breath frowning a little as he came closer to you, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear that had fallen from your messy bun down into your face.

“Don’t start crying, you’re mine now until he pays back what he owes.” The blonde said with no emotion in his voice or his face, he nodded and you were being turned around to walk with the man who he had called Jin before, you were being taken to a set of metal spiralled stairs.

“Don’t worry too much about him, Yoongi…he’s tough but just do what you’re told and there won’t be a problem.” He whispered to you as you reached the top of the staircase coming onto a hallway that consisted of three doors.

“Like you’re doing as you’re told?” You questioned as he spoke to you after being told not to, he scoffed opening the last white door at the end of the hall and ushering you inside.

“I can do what I want, I’m not his prisoner.” He said before pulling the door closed and locking you inside.

“Don’t you think for one second I like having you around here, you’re here because your father is a filthy scum bag who owes me money,” Yoongi spoke as you were on the floor of the kitchen, you’d come down to clean up as he’d told you to and now you were scrubbing the floor on your hands and knees as if you were Cinderella and not an actual human being with feelings.

“So my father should be the one scrubbing instead.” You spat back not expecting him to hear you as he’d left to go into the living room but he heard and came back into the room, picking you up by the scruff of your Pyjama shirt you were still dressed in.

“Did you say something?” You didn’t even flinch, your father had done worse, you just looked down at the floor in silence, knowing not to talk back to people like that, it would only make their anger worse. You’d been here half a day and you were already worse of then you were at home.

“Your father better hurry up with that money, he neglected to tell me about your smart mouth.” With that you were dropped onto the floor, your knees smacking against the tile, you looked down at the floor, he was still standing in front of you.

“While you’re here, I’ll tell you some ground rules. You can go anywhere in the house except my office, I want this place kept spotless at all times, I’m assuming you cook, if not learn, I want food on the table for certain times.” You nodded, continuing to avoid his gaze.

“Understood?” You looked up and you knew he wanted an answer from you, so you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Yes, Sir.” You managed to squeak out, he nodded before leaving the room and then up a flight of stairs, you looked around the kitchen. The floor was covered in muddy boot prints and a few dirty dishes so you decided to start with those and then go up to your room, hoping to find something to do or change into instead of being stuck in your Pyjama’s the entire time you were going to be there.

Things weren’t terrible at the house, or at least they were better than they were at your home. As long as you stayed out of his way things were fine, you’d only ran into a few problems since being there, the first was a clothes situation…

It had been two days of sitting in the same clothes and you were growing disgusted with yourself, you made a promise to try and find someone who wasn’t Yoongi to help you, except you only knew Jin the one who brought you up to your room and you had no idea when you could ask him about clothes, the only time you saw him he was with the five other men at the dinner table eating the food you cooked for them so it wasn’t as if you could just go up and ask then, it would be rude.

“Here,” Jin said interrupting you from your thoughts, you were currently sat in the window seat of the bedroom you’d been given and a suitcase was pushed further into the room, you slowly got down from the seat and made your way over to it, picking it up and laying on the bed to open, inside was an array of different clothes, from jeans, skirts, shorts, long-sleeved and short-sleeved shirts and dresses with different shoes all in your size.

“Thanks,” You mumbled to him, not wanting to seem ungrateful for the clothes, he shook his head.

“Not from me, Yoongi sent them. He’s sick of seeing you in the same clothes and your dad won’t send anything to him. You’ll pay him back.” You nodded and with that, he left the room, so you began to unpack the bag and put everything away in the wardrobe that was also in the room. You couldn’t complain about the space, it was a big bedroom with an en-suite, everything you could ever need except something to keep you busy when all of the cleaning and cooking was complete, if you were at home you would just walk to the nearby cafe and read but that was out of the question, especially considering the giant brick wall that ran around the house, stopping anyone getting in or in your case, getting out.

The second issue you ran into with Yoongi was being in his way…

You were cleaning up the living room after one of his parties and he came down the next morning for something, you did your best to stay out of the way but you needed something that was behind him, you were going to wait it out but when he saw you standing there and doing nothing he flipped, it was as if a switch went off in his mind.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned to months and you were still in the same house for 6 months. Things had gotten a little slacker, he was allowing you to go shopping, under the careful watch of one of his men, of course, Jin was taking you at first but all of a sudden that stopped and you were being taken by another man who you’d gotten to know as Hoseok, he was nice. He brightened up your day whenever you went out together, he would take you to the same supermarket for food shopping that had a small charity shop next door that sold books, you stopped yourself from asking to go but he saw you glancing whenever you entered or left the supermarket so he took you over.

“We’ll keep it as our secret, he won’t have to know about it.” He promised you, picking out a book you liked and paying for it. You hid it inside one of the grocery bags for later when you could sneak it up to the bedroom and read over and over again.

More and more time passed and you thought you must have been near the end of your father’s debt or at least he was coming to pay back for you but he never showed up or you’d never heard about it until Yoongi came down the stairs one day pissed about something, you’d just made dinner for his six friends and they were all sitting down to eat, you getting ready to leave because you never ate with them when a sharp slap hit you across the cheek, the blow from it knocking you back onto the floor after you hit the bottom of your back on the kitchen counter.

“What the fuck?!” Jin yelled, both him and Hoseok on their feet while the others all stayed seated, eyes staring at the food in front of them knowing better than to go against Yoongi, but Yoongi never tore his eyes away from you, they were burning into the front of your face while you tried your best to hide the tears that were springing to your eyes.

“Where’s your dad?! Huh?!” He yelled kneeling against the floor and looking at you, but you looked away from him not wanting him to see how much he’d hurt you.

“I asked you a fucking question!” He barked pulling your face forward to face him, your eyes were bloodshot and your cheek was bright red with a slight white mark from his hand print, the rings also leaving indents across your cheek.

“I don’t know, I’ve been here the whole time.” You stuttered out staring back into his eyes, wanting him to believe you but knowing he probably wouldn’t.

“You’re coming with me.” He grumbled pulling you up from the floor by your hair and hauling you through the living room and up the staircase towards his office on the second floor, the only time you’d been in there was the first night you came, you were shoved down onto your knees in front of his desk and the door slammed shut, you flinched a little and he came closer to you.

“Where is your scum bag of a father?” You looked up at him, too afraid to not look at him in case he hit you again, you racked your brain trying to think of all your dad’s hiding spots, places he went when he needed to escape from everything going on around him, when people came looking for him.

“Well!?” You looked down a the floor biting down on your lip before thinking of the one place he would always go.

“If he’s hiding he’s probably in the safe house he owns, it’s just outside of town, looks like a run-down farmhouse…he took me there a few times when he was on the run.” Yoongi stared at you, shocked that you would just give him information so easily without him having to pressure you like he did everyone else.

“He’s nothing but a dirty cheat who runs away when he has no other option…that’s probably why he gave me to you because he doesn’t care about me.” You continued to ramble on nervous as Yoongi hadn’t said anything, he leant back against the oak desk and ran his hand through his bleach blonde locks and you looked at him, his eyes were studying you as you tried desperately not to cry.

“Well you’re a bargaining chip now, if he doesn’t come out of hiding we’ll kill you.” You nodded in agreement with him, you knew not to question people in authority.

“With all due respect Sir…that won’t work, my father he’s never been the loving kind…he’ll keep playing you on saying he’s getting the money but he won’t…You can threaten my life all you want but you would have to threaten something more dear to him than me.” He looked at you dumbfounded for a second, you were just giving him everything he needed to know.

“What’s more dear to him than his daughter?” You resisted the urge to laugh at his question, and you looked at him, he was holding out his hand for you to take, you took it and he helped you stand, allowing you to sit down in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk, him still leaning against it.

“I would start with his men, they mean more to him than I ever could…or maybe the house, he has memories there of my mother before she ran off.” You cleared your throat, the tears that were once threatening to roll down your cheeks gone, the thoughts of being scared of him gone and replaced with the feeling of relief, he walked around to his side of the desk and began taking notes on what you were telling him, the names of your fathers men, the ones you hated most since they all hit you too but not telling him that, then where the address of the farmhouse was.

“You’ll come with me to the farmhouse, to prove something.” He stated, closing his notebook, the door to the office opened and in walked Hoseok who looked rather worried.

“Take her to her room, bring some food for her and make sure those books you’ve been collecting for her keep her entertained.” He said not looking in either of your directions as he turned to look out of the balcony window.

After threatening a lot of your father’s men your dad came out of hiding from the farmhouse, he took one look at you and knew you were to blame for Yoongi finding him. You were standing between Yoongi and two of his men, Namjoon and Jungkook who were both armed heavily, one wrong move and everything would be over, you knew your dad always carried and you’d warned them about it beforehand.

“You’re a little bitch! Couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you!? Just like your mother!” He screamed in your direction, you didn’t flinch like you would have done before if you were alone with him, instead, you stayed still looking at him as he pleaded to Yoongi not to kill any of his men or the burn the houses down.

“You’d rather save a bunch of men than your daughter?” Yoongi questioned walking closer to your dad and leaving you behind with Namjoon and Jungkook, you watched as Yoongi rolled up his blazer sleeves exposing more tattoos that you didn’t know he had.

“Yes…she’s nothing, just some silly little maid girl. I promised I would get the money but she will do until then right. That was the deal!” He yelled but Yoongi was shaking his head, he cracked his knuckles and you wondered what was about to happen.

“Family is everything.” He told your father walking around the back of him, your father on his knees watching Yoongi walk small circles around him.

“Family is more important than anything else in this world…you should cherish your daughter.” He whispered bending down to your dads’ ear and looking at you, he nodded and Namjoon and Jungkook pushed you to your knees, you screamed as a blade was pushed against your neck.

“Tell me again how she’s nothing to you.” Yoongi egged on, your father looked at you and you stared back at him with pleading eyes, begging for him to say something that would change your mind about what you thought of him all these years.

“She’s nothing.” He spat looking you dead in the eyes, Yoongi sucked on his teeth shaking his head and the blade was removed from your neck, you were yanked back up onto your feet and being moved back into the van.

“I’ll keep her as insurance, but your house and men are all on the line if I don’t get my money soon.” He barked at your dad who was now getting to his feet, you sat in the front of the van in the middle passenger seat in the front and watched as Yoongi climbed in next to you, Jungkook in the driver’s spot and Namjoon in the back.

It had been a month since that day with your father happened and things back at the Yoongi mansion had calmed down, you were allowed to roam freely around the house and gardens as long as you didn’t leave the gates without one of his men accompanying you, and you were allowed more books than before. You were treated less like a slave and more of a family member, it was nice. You finally felt as though you belonged somewhere, but things were getting weirder. Yoongi was accompanying you more and more places with another guard watching you, he’d even taken you to a gallery opening in town which he was funding but the rules were strict, you couldn’t leave his side, not once. Went to meals together out of the house, you had long conversations about your upbringing and your father and it felt as though you were getting along, no more abuse from him, no more forcing you to clean up or cook, you still did those things but it wasn’t forced upon you like it was before. You were even allowed to eat with them at the table, getting to know every single one of his men on a friendly basis.

You awoke one night during the week to a gunshot, you clutched the sheets around your body and looked around the room, you could have sworn blind the shot sounded as though it was right in front of you. You heard another two and you rushed out of the bed throwing the bedroom door open and racing down the stairs, you heard some men talking that you didn’t recognise and then another shot, you squealed holding your hand over your mouth to try and silence it, the voices turning into hushed tones now.

“That would be the maid, sticking her nose in business she doesn’t belong in.” You heard Yoongi snarl, you’d not heard him like that since the night you told him about your fathers’ hideouts, the door swung open a man you didn’t know dragged you inside by your hair dropping you in front of Yoongi who stared at you blankly then back to the man who was still holding your hair.

“She’s a maid? She looks old enough to be a loved one Yoongi…is this the one you’ve had accompanying you everywhere?” You stayed silent and Yoongi was smirking at the men, he looked down at you and shook his head, acting nonchalantly about the fact you were being pulled by your hair, then that’s when you noticed it, blood all over the carpeted floor, your eyes followed the pools and you saw two bodies lying there, one on top of the other. You weren’t scared by it, a little shocked yet but not scared. You’d seen and done worse yourself, remembering back to times when you had to kill someone who came after your dad and you in the process

“Maybe I should keep her seeing as though you took my best men?” Yoongi shrugged his shoulders and you were pulled up and back into the man’s chest, him leaning down so close to your neck you could feel his breath with every word he spoke.

“Make her my little plaything, what do you think Yoongi?” The barrel of a gun was placed against your right temple.

“Maybe I’ll just kill her instead.” Yoongi continued to act as though he wasn’t bothered, or maybe it wasn’t an act. Maybe you’d read too much into the fact he was letting you have all the different types of freedom and taking you out with him.

“Do what you want, she’s nothing. I’ll get another maid in no time.” The man sniggered and the gun was lowered from your head, you stared down at the ground when you were suddenly pulled under the man’s arm and into a side hug.

“You’re coming home with me then doll face, we’ll get you all prettied up and I’ll show you a good time.” The gun was put away and you were being walked out of the office door, you looked back over your shoulder at Yoongi pleadingly but he was avoiding your gaze, staring at the blood puddles and worrying about how he was going to clean it up.

You were on the last step of the staircase when a gunshot rang through the air again the man next to you falling onto the floor with a loud thump, you stayed still too scared to move in case whoever shot him was going to shot, you next, it wasn’t until Jin came running into the hallway to see what was happening you realised Yoongi had shot the guy, you were relieved at first, he wasn’t going to just let you go, maybe you weren’t thinking it was all in your head, maybe he did care. You turned to look at him and he was pissed. Red in the face and staring you, the body by your feet was, being dragged away leaving nothing but a drag mark of blood.

“I told you! Never to come into my office!” He yelled coming down the stairs, you backed away from him hitting the front door and looking at him, he was closer to your now, so close that you could smell the mint chewing gum he had.

“I wasn’t in the office.” You whimpered, as he put the gun away in his pocket.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done!? You’ve just left us exposed! Everyone is going to think you’re some kind of weakness to me when you’re nothing but a silly little girl!” He yelled his hand raising and causing you to flinch but it didn’t come into contact with you, it reached into his pocket pulling out his phone.

“You couldn’t just do as you were told, could you?!” He screamed staring at you, you looked down at the ground.

“A weakness! Nothing but a stupid little girl!” He yelled in your face, that was it. You looked behind him and darted up the stairs, the front door heavily guarded but the one door that wasn’t was his office balcony door, you rushed inside climbing out of it and shimming down the drainpipe, you knew you wouldn’t have long to get out of the yard before Hoseok would spot you, you knew their schedule like the back of your hand, he was patrolling the front lawn so you had about three minutes to get out of the back gate and then try and find a way out of surrounding area.

“HOSEOK!” You heard Yoongi yell from the balcony as he watched you sprint towards the back gate, the back door opened and Jin stood there watching as you turned into a faster sprint, making it out of the gate and into the surrounding woods.

You’d been walking for what felt like hours when you heard something behind you, you looked over your shoulder and saw nothing, it was pitch black outside, of course, you saw nothing. You wrapped your arms around your chest, you were dressed in nothing but some thin pyjama’s, why did you do this? You should have just stayed at the house where it was warm. Another noise alerted you and your head snapped around to a light coming from behind you, you darted behind a tree and a car came closer, slowing down, you knew it wasn’t one of Yoongi’s cars or men so you watched as a figure got out of the car.

“You okay miss?” You studied the man for a few seconds, trying to determine if they could be trusted when you couldn’t tell you thought it would be best to leave him.

“Yes…just out for a midnight walk.” You lied, doing your best to sound convincing enough but the man came closer to you, you stepped back, standing on a twig and flinching.

“You don’t seem okay, you lost?” He questioned again, you bit down on your lip, wanting nothing more than to get into his car and be warm but you didn’t know who he was.

“I’m not lost, just walking. Clears my head.” Who would be out in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night if they weren’t up to anything good?

“Come with me, I’ll take you somewhere nice and warm…we’ll get you a nice hot chocolate and you can warm up.” You shook your head, you knew he couldn’t see you but the way he was going on and on made you anxious.

“I should go back to my boyfriends’ house, he’s probably looking for me.” That’s when you heard it, someone calling out your name in the distance, both your head and the other man’s shot up to look in the direction it was coming from.

“Yoongi?!” You screamed out, praying for it to be him, you would gladly go back to him being mad than being stuck with a creepy man.

“Yoongi? The Yoongi? Interesting.” The man lunged for you, and you sprinted in the direction of Yoongi’s voice, he sounded angry still but you didn’t care, you needed out of there.

“Yoongi!” You squealed seeing him between some trees with a flashlight, the light was shone in your direction and you continued running when you heard a gunshot again, you wanted to cry out when you heard it, you were sick of hearing them tonight.

“Y/N?!” He yelled, all sense of anger gone from his mind and concern rushing through him as he saw you rushing towards him, you collapsed onto your knees in front of him, and the man from before came out from behind you.

“Yoongi…We finally meet.” He spoke, Yoongi’s eyes went from you to the man behind you, he stepped in front of you and took out his gun aiming it at the man.

“What do you want? I just killed off three of your men don’t think I won’t kill you as well.” He barked, Jin and Hoseok were running towards you now and you watched Yoongi as he protectively guarded you.

“So she is your weakness? She comes running out in the middle of the night and you come running after her?” Jin helped you to your feet and wrapped a blazer around your shivering body, Hoseok was now aiming his gun as well.

“Get the goons out of here, this is between us.” Jin and Hoseok took the look from Yoongi and left, leaving you behind. You couldn’t even comprehend what was happening when it happened, shots rang out of both guns, the man in front of you hitting the ground and blood flowing from his head and then Yoongi stumbling backwards, you stared at him and then your eyes met hole in his blazer with blood coming from it.

“JIN! HOSEOK!” You screamed as they weren’t that far away, they came rushing over and you nodded at the body.

“Deal with him, I’ll sort Yoongi out.” You cried, throwing his good arm over your shoulder and walking back with him to the house, he stayed in silence the whole walk.

He sat in his office chair while you dragged a stool to his side, you’d taken off his blazer and shirt to find the bullet had entered his arm missing anything major but still bleeding a lot.

“This might hurt.” You whispered taking the tweezers you’d sterilized and reached for the bullet inside his arm, he hissed and bit down onto his fist as you got it out.

“Hold still.” You ordered taking his arm and trying to look at it but he yelled out at you.

“If you hold still it won’t hurt as much!” You yelled at him, he shook his head.

“If you hadn’t have run away this wouldn’t have happened!” He argued back at you, you stood your ground.

“If you hadn’t scared or yelled at me I wouldn’t have run off!” He rolled his eyes and you did the same.

“You shouldn’t have been near the office.” You scoffed wiping the wound with the antiseptic wash and then grabbing and needle and thread.

“You need to learn to control your temper.” He scoffed back at you and you began sewing the small wound back together, he watched as you bit down on your lip to concentrate on what you were doing.

“Where did you learn to do this?” You shrugged your shoulders, he was calmer now more relaxed as you helped him.

“You know my father, he’s an alcoholic… I learnt to patch up myself and others.” You said giving no example as to what had been done to you in the past, only lifting your top to show the scar where your kidney was.

“Stabbed me because dinner wasn’t on time one night.” You answered letting it drop down and continuing your work, finally finishing and washing it with some more antiseptic wash.

“You don’t deserve that kind of treatment.” You took the bloody bandages and threw them into the fireplace, coming back over and wrapping his arm in some new ones.

“Life’s a bitch.” You said putting the stool away and cleaning up the first aid kit you’d been using.

“No.” He said taking hold of your wrist and stopping you from going anywhere, you looked at his hand and then up to his face, he looked genuinely concerned and you bit down on your lip.

“I know I haven’t been the greatest of people to you but…I want you to know I don’t mean to shout and scream…I just, I have anger issues and then watching him hold you like that earlier…it made me worse, seeing someone else touching you the way I want to, the way I’ve been working my way up to with taking you out.” You stared blankly at him, so it was true. You were his weakness.

“It made me-”

“Jealous?” You finished for him, he nodded sheepishly and you swallowed a lump that was forming in your throat from nerves.

“You don’t need to be jealous.” You whispered taking your spare hand and putting it on his cheek, he leaned into your hand and you smiled softly.

“I’m a bad guy…you shouldn’t care for me.” He reminded you, you stared at him, a small laugh wanting to escape your lips.

“I’ve grown up around worse than this…my father introduced me to this lifestyle a long time ago, if I didn’t have this it wouldn’t feel normal.” You whispered, he surprised you by pulling you down onto his lap, you were straddling him now, his left arm around your waist and his right injured one cupping your cheek making you look at him. You moved your head closer to him, he was frozen with both fear and excitement, you leant in and your foreheads rested against one another.

“Thank you.” You whispered to him, he frowned a little and you smiled softly although he couldn’t see you.

“For what?”

“Saving my life.” You leant down and connected your lips, in all the time you’d known him you never imagined how they would feel pressed up against your own, your brain lit on fire and the warmth spread throughout your entire body, you were addicted after just one small kiss, it was nothing like the books you had read described, it was something more, it was more passionate than anything anyone could ever try to describe into words. His hand moved from your cheek to around your waist to meet his other arm and he pulled you closer, hissing as his arm stung to move so much, you both pulled away and studied each other for a moment, you felt a blush deepen on your cheeks as he looked at you, the once rough and scary Yoongi, who was covered in piercings and tattoos, who killed people for fun was gone and sitting in his place was a softer and more gentle Yoongi who didn’t care about anything right now except you in his arms.

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sweet-barnes · 5 years ago

Text

Snake Eyes - part six

Pairing: mob!Bucky x reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Summary: ‘Snake eyes’ meaning the worst possible result; a complete lack of success. Getting caught up between two of the biggest mobs in the city was never how you expected your night to go, and falling for a mob boss can only end in disaster.

A/N: nothing majorrr happens in this part, it just provides some more back story on Bucky and the reader so you can love them both even more! also there’s some fluff but don’t get used to it lmaooo... feedback is always welcomed!

Snake Eyes Masterlist

Part 5

Bucky couldn't keep his head straight after the conversation he'd just had with Steve.

He dropped his suit jacket on the floor as soon as his bedroom door was shut and sat down on the bed, feeling the soft material against his fingers and the mattress sinking under his weight. He always knew there was something that drew him to you but he thought it was just your beauty. Not that you were apart of his childhood.

But that would explain the feeling deep in his chest that he felt whenever he was around you. Like you were a force within his world that needed to be listened to. You could have always been there, but he was stupid enough to let you go during his younger days.

He vaguely remembered the girl who would chase him and Steve up and down the streets, play fighting all day whenever she was around. She always seemed to show up more when Steve was on his own, and he would tell Bucky all about the times they had spent together. That's when she'd stay over at Steve’s as refuge from her parents.

Looking back now, Bucky sees why he doesn’t recognise you as that girl. He had barely known you, but even that small presence in his life was enlightening. If nothing else, he remembers that big smile on your face despite everything that Steve would tell him about your family. You were always happy.

He could see an essence of that smile in you now, but it wasn’t as bright, and it definitely wasn’t as happy. He wondered what had happened to you in between then and now to cause that light to dim.

Bucky knew he always had a thing for choosing the right friends, Steve was the perfect example of that, and clearly you were too.

He couldn't mention this to you. He'd already told Steve not to say anything to any member of the group. He didn't know why he wanted it to be this way though, they were all so close, practically brothers and sisters. He could always trust them but this felt different. It felt a bit too personal.

Maybe it was because he thought you’d see him differently. Possibly in a bad light for not keeping in contact after you left. As far as Steve and himself were aware, they were your only friends during the time you lived near them. Imagine moving to a different city and knowing your only friends didn’t want to speak to you afterwards, despite how young you were.

That caused an ache in Bucky’s heart. Thinking back to the girl he barely knew, he didn’t mean to cause her that harm. He definitely wanted to make up for it now though, saving you from Rumlow was the start of that but it wouldn’t be the end.

Maybe you’d just see him as a friend if you knew it was him and Steve, an old friend that you could always go back to and still feel like nothing had changed. Bucky didn’t want that. He knew in a different part of his mind that he was drawn to you for so many reasons and he couldn’t let you slip away again. He couldn’t let you just be his friend.

Bucky sighed, he had thought maybe he had a normal shot with you. As normal as it could get between him and one of Rumlow's girls. He didn't even know if you had any similar feelings towards him but he wanted to try, despite how wrong it may seem.

He could feel it in his heart and in his gut whenever he was around you, as cliché as it sounded you were so different to all the other girls that he had around before. In spite of trying to keep his two lives separate with the others, he knew they were only interested in him for the money. The way they would drape themselves all over him as soon as they met and the way they would do anything for him, it made him begrudge who he was as a person.

All he wanted was someone who saw him for who he really was. At this point, he didn’t know who that even was himself. His whole life had been consumed by the mob, through his father and now through his legacy. He couldn’t separate himself from it.

But maybe you could. You felt safe and warm to Bucky, like you could hold him in your arms and the rest of the world would melt away and it would just be you two indefinitely.

After all these thoughts, he wanted to make sure you were his.

He wanted to protect you from the dangers of the outside world. That was the real reason he had offered you the job within his house. He didn't want you going and working as one of the dancers or bar staff at his clubs, he knew what the men were like and he couldn’t have anyone else touching you.

It wasn't long before Bucky was laying in his king sized bed, shrouded by darkness, staring up at the ceiling. He knew he had to make your time here as comfortable as possible. He had to try with everything in him to make you see him for who he really was.

He needed to protect you, a need that came from a deep part of himself. He couldn’t let anything happen to you.

You woke the next morning feeling somewhat different. A weight had shifted from your chest for the first time since this whole ordeal started and you felt more at ease. Maybe it was the meal last night, you thought to yourself.

Becoming friends with Natasha was definitely a step into making you feel more comfortable in your new home. Sam and Steve definitely helped as well, they had been the most accommodating since you arrived here. Always stopping to talk to you about anything and everything, sending you the softest of smiles whenever they couldn’t stop for a chat. They had a homely feeling that you just couldn’t resist.

You couldn’t forget Bucky, however. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t have invited you to have dinner with them all. If he hadn’t brought you into his world and settled you in beside him. He was definitely a better man than you originally thought, with so much potential outside of the mob.

He was a good man trapped in the wrong walk of life.

You padded your way from your bed to the en suite bathroom, having a hot shower before getting ready for another day in Bucky's office.

When you arrived, you saw Bucky was sitting in the chair behind his desk, a look of concentration set onto his face. You let a small smile creep onto your own face at how cute he looked. Your fingers twitched as you had the sudden urge to rub the frown lines out of his forehead, to relax his muscles for him. You blinked the thought away, why were you thinking like that? He’s a mobster!

He noticed as you started walking towards him, grinning up at you as you finally arrived in front of his desk. "Good morning, Y/N." You returned the greeting, your smile widening, trying to brush away the remnants of the thought that had creeped into your mind.

"I brought you a drink up this morning," Bucky gestured to the steaming cup that was placed next to the computer he was just staring at. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, "thank you." You felt the heat rise to your cheeks and you cast your eyes downwards. He couldn’t see the look on your face, that would be too embarrassing.

You moved around to his side of the desk and picked up the mug, cradling it in your hands and taking in the warmth, before looking back at Bucky as he spoke. "I have to go out for the day today, I hope you'll be okay on your own?" It came out as more of a question than Bucky had intended it to but he waited for your reply.

You nodded, "Yes I should be fine, I think I've got the hang of it now." The pang of anxiety at the thought of being alone for the day hit you, but you tried to push it away for now.

Bucky hummed, gathering some paperwork that was scattered on top of the desk and placing it into the satchel he had just picked up. "I got you a phone, it's got everyone's contacts in it in case you need any help or need someone to talk to," he offered you a shy smile after closing his bag.

This surprised you. Rumlow had taken your phone for obvious reasons and you didn't think you would be provided one by Bucky either. It seemed unexpected that he would trust you that much to personally provide you it. "Oh, that's lovely, thank you," you responded softly, eyeing the black phone that was placed in front of the computer that you were only just noticing.

Thoughts of messaging your mum or your friends were swirling around in your mind. Maybe this was your way out of all of this? They would be able to get you out of this, right? The thoughts were soon overtaken by the feeling that Rumlow could do terrible things to them if he found out you were trying to escape, and you quickly decided against contacting anyone who might help.

Though this crushed your hopes, it may have been the safest option, and you weren’t one to put your loved ones in danger for your own sake. No matter how desperate you were.

You were broken out of your thoughts by Bucky’s voice. "Don't hesitate to message me, I'll always find time for you." Before you could reply, he was already walking out of the door.

You stood there for a moment, watching as the door slowly swung shut and a silence fell over the room.

How could one man be so charming in such a short conversation?

You shook your head slightly. No, you couldn’t be thinking like this. You plopped down into the chair, letting yourself settle before trying to concentrate on the day ahead.

You spent the morning going through the previous weeks reports from Bucky's clubs, feeling up to your eyeballs in numbers and trying to keep as organised as possible, ready for the next time Pierce might show his face. You were dreading the time he would show up when Bucky wasn’t there.

You took a moment, rubbing your face and letting out a breath you didn't realise had built up inside of you. You were used to the pressure of work, it sometimes helped you to keep your productivity up but this was different.

Doing financial reports for James Buchanan Barnes, leader of the Howling Commandos felt one hundred times more stressful. You didn't want to mess it up the first time you were left alone, especially with how kind he had been that morning.

A short vibration brought you out of your thoughts. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sound that seemed so familiar but distant after all this time. Then you remembered the phone that Bucky had given you. You unlocked it to find a message from the man himself, and realised he had saved a smiley face next to his name in the phone. You found yourself smiling at the small gesture as you read the message.

"Hope you're doing okay over there, I've organised dinner to be brought up to you so that should be arriving soon, I hope you enjoy it x."

You felt your cheeks become instantly warm at the message and a giggle left your mouth. Did you really just giggle at a text like a smitten high school girl with her first crush? I guess you just did. He was really having an effect on you.

You quickly replied, telling him you were doing great and you couldn't wait for dinner. As soon as the text had been sent, a soft knock on the door made you look up as one of the workers brought over your dinner and dessert. You could definitely get used to this.

Surprisingly, the rest of your time in the office was spent between finishing the paperwork for Bucky and texting him. The conversation started mainly talking about your work, with Bucky sometimes making jokes about being bored with his own, but you doubted it would be any worse than what you were doing.

Bucky slyly moved on to asking you more and more about yourself, wanting to know as much as he could without pushing it too far. You didn't mind though, just like last night, it was like talking to an old friend. It all felt so natural and you found yourself looking at your phone frequently to see if he had replied to you.

He seemed so interested in you, with every tiny detail you told him he seemed to latch on for more. Even when you tried to talk about him, he’d answer your questions with consideration, letting you in on the detail you wanted to know but always found a way to take your conversation back to you.

As you made your way back to your room once the day was over, you were hoping to bump into him. Your heart racing as you walked through the halls, but he never appeared and you felt slightly disappointed as you reached your room.

You settled yourself for bed, reading a chapter of the book Bucky had let you keep. Or at least trying, Bucky didn’t leave your mind no matter how hard you concentrated. You eventually gave it up, placing the book gently onto the side before settling under the cozy duvet for the night.

Before you were completely pulled under, you heard the familiar vibration of your phone. You reached out blindly and finally found it on the bedside table. It lit up in your hand with a simple message. "Goodnight, doll."

The smile that crept onto your face gave it all away.

You were falling for him

Part 7

#james buchanan barnes #mob!bucky #mob au #mobster!bucky #mobster!bucky drabble #mobster!bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #snake eyes series #sam wilson #steve rogers #bucky barnes imagine

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sergeanttpoliteness · 5 years ago

Note

Spiderverse Gwen x Reader where The reader is out as les/bi/pan whatever and Gwen is scared to tell her she likes her?

AND➝ Gwen is ready to start letting people back into her life after the events of Spiderverse. MJ, aware of Gwen trying to open her social circle, tells her about a nice girl from her apartment building and brings the reader along at their next band practice to introduce her. Gwen sets eyes on her and is VEEEERY attracted to this VEEEERY pretty girl. In Gwen’s bisexual distress, she starts rambling nervously, and probably says something embarrassing about herself. MJ saves them from an awkward situation and starts band practice, Gwen doesn’t see reader outside of school again after that, but Gwen shamelessly stares at her during class. Gwen starts to overthink the situation and gets worried she blew her chance. Later, there’s a situation that she as Spider-Gwen saves reader from. Reader is minorly hurt but SG has to go before she can help reader as authorities arrive. Feeling guilty, her spider sense leads SG to the reader’s apartment, she goes to check on her that night. Confident with her mask on, she strikes up a conversation, compliments her and even drops a bit of a flirty remark about reader before taking her leave. I didnt know where to go from there I’m new to requesting so I hope this isn’t too long but I hope that’ll be enough to get the ball rolling? -🍀

deeply sorry it took me so long to get to these again! i changed a few things, but it’s pretty much still the same idea. i hope the nonnie who requested this finds it and doesn’t think i ignored them :( ily, y’all deserve better.

——-

➹she plays bass➹(spider-gwen x fem!reader)

That feeling when there’s a cute girl who plays bass in your band and you don’t know what the hell to do about it.

Gwen needs help figuring out her feelings. Like, immediately.

word count: 11.6k (oops i did it again)

a/n: i’m sorry this new fic is the size of the bible like the last one, i’ll try to make the next one shorter lmaooo. but it’s what my fave girl deserves due to the unacceptable lack of stories about her on this site. plus, i swear that once you read it it’s so much shorter than it seems. i’m hoping i can post at least one more story before the end of the year, but if i don’t, happy holidays and new year ! y’all were the best part about my 2019 :) hope whoever is reading this has a lovely week. mwah.

warnings: violence, guns, swearing.

——-

She played bass.

You played bass, to be more specific. And Mary Jane Watson took satisfaction in believing that she was nice. More than simply ‘just nice’ on good days, even. Being the most courteous person was a duty she considered to be hers ever since she was six-years-old and accompanied that girl who always seemed to be left behind in the playground, and years later, in high school when she punched a creep hassling one of her bandmates. Last but most certainly not least, Betty Brant, bass guitar player of the Mary Janes, slipped and fell backwards one unfortunate evening, and she shot out her left arm behind her to break the fall and save her ice cream from hitting the ground. Good news: her ice cream did not hit the ground. Bad news, however, her left hand did— in an odd, twisted position. Needless to say, Betty Brant now had a broken wrist.

At first glance, they’re all unrelated events, stars belonging to separate constellations, and they would have remained so— undisturbed, simply coexisting in the same sky. That was, until Gwen came into the picture and drew a line connecting the bright flecks when she opened her mouth.

In the moment that she admitted to MJ that the idea of meeting new people sounded more appealing each day, she scribbled down the equation in her bandmate’s brain and hit ‘solve’. The redhead’s face lit up, putting to shame a Christmas tree as that sense of responsibility called for her attention. Immediately, she felt obligated to make the Nobel Peace prize-worthy move of texting her neighbor she just met, who also played the bass, to join them on the coming Saturday for band practice. That night, as she prepared to go to sleep, Em Jay cracked an accomplished smile at the reflection in her mirror.

However, two weeks had passed since your first practice with the Mary Janes, and MJ’s pride dove off from where it sat on her shoulder as she observed from afar with furrowed brows how Gwen so fucking blatantly ignored you after you tried to give her a high five.

“What the hell was that?!” She hissed at Glory who stood beside her, cringing as you awkwardly dropped your hand and turned away from Gwen. Sighing, MJ rubbed her face with sheer desperation— a rather drastically different action from her naïve smile many nights ago. “I put an opportunity right on her fucking lap to make a friend, and she can’t act like a nice normal human being!”

Glory bit the inside of her cheek, sporting her own grimace. “I dunno, maybe they’ll click soon—”

“It’s been two weeks, Glory!” MJ whined. She crossed her arms across her chest, eyes narrowing into concentrated slits, and her gaze returned to an oblivious Gwen who shot at your back what she thought in her mind was a discreet glance. “I can’t let this fail. I gotta step in.” Glory raised a brow.

“Or you could just, you know, let them get to know each other at their own pace?“

“That’s dumb.”

Glory opened her mouth but gave up immediately, seeing MJ’s persistence as a lost cause she, in all honesty, did not want to waste any energy battling against that day. “Follow my lead,” MJ elbowed her, winking before she caught Gwen’s and your attention. “Who wants pizza? I do, and so does Glory. You guys want to go out and eat?“

“I don’t really feel like going out.”

“Glory, what the fuck?” MJ said under her breath, but later shook her head, a smile stretching across her face. “It’s fine! We’ll just go get it and we can eat here."

Glory frowned. "But—”

“I mean, sure. I’m definitely in the mood for pizza.” You shrugged, the corner of your mouth lifting upwards. Gwen, however, eyed Glory with suspicion, who in return flashed her an apologetic smile. MJ clapped her hands together, cheering.

“Great!” She grabbed Glory’s hand and dragged her out of the room, glancing back at the two other girls. “We’ll be back in fifteen!”

Not even five seconds passed after they closed the door before you jumped off the couch and muttered to Gwen that you were going to the bathroom, an action that Gwen chose not to spend any time analyzing for her own sanity; but even if she had decided to, the ringing of her phone would’ve interrupted her nonetheless. After she took out her phone and saw MJ’s contact name, she let out the longest sigh in her entire seventeen years of living.

“Couldn’t you have just called for the pizza?” She went straight to the point— no greeting or anything, which left MJ stumped for three seconds, and surprised she had caught onto what was going on in record time.

“No, otherwise my plan wouldn’t have worked. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“What plan and why am I welcome?”

MJ scoffed. “I’m giving you another chance to talk to Y/N, seeing as you completely blew every other one you had.” Gwen perked one eyebrow, confused.

“How come?”

“She tried to give you a high-five and you left her hanging, Gwendolyn.” She said with an obvious tone. “And that’s just one example of many.”

Gwen sat straight, her eyes growing wide. “Wait, I did?”

“Yes, you fucking idiot!” Gwen shut her eyes closed, covering her face with her hand. “How did you not notice, it’s so painfully obvious she’s trying to be your friend but you’ve gained the award of dickhead of the day.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, although let out an amused huff of air through her nose. “Did Glory agree to this little plan of yours?”

MJ took a moment of silence. “No, but her opinion doesn’t really matter right now.”

“Yeah, I bet she didn’t, because it’s fucking stupid, Mary Jane.”

“Em Jay.”

“You called me Gwendolyn.”

“Whatever,” MJ grumbled, “you asked for this, Gwen. Be thankful, ‘cause I’m really tryin’ here.”

Gwen heard you flush the toilet, and not too long after, the sound of the faucet running. “Hell, okay, fine.” She whispered into the phone. “She’s coming, I have to go.” Before MJ could utter a word, she ended the call right as you walked out of the bathroom and flashed her a tight-lipped smile. You sat back down on the couch, an obvious distance between you two. More time passed while you hunched over your cellphone and Gwen eyed you sideways, gripping her hands together in between her knees, her heart speeding up each time she dared to speak up, and her face heating up albeit she hadn’t directed a word at you yet.

She cleared her throat. “So!”

You made eye contact with her and she felt obligated to flash you a nervous smile after the silence continued. Eventually, the corner of your mouth lifted upwards. “So what?” You questioned, curious. Gwen’s smile gradually fell. She should’ve contemplated what she was going to say first before she spoke.

“…What’s your favorite pizza topping?” Gwen hit herself mentally. There literally was no excuse for why she was acting like this— hell, she herself couldn’t even find one. But, on the bright side (however, perhaps not so much for Gwen), whilst the girl was sure this was an agonizing and slow death from embarrassment, your amused grin widened with her visible anxiety.

“I don’t know. There’s a lot of options.” You shrugged, your attention moving back to your device. Gwen considered leaving you alone, seeing as this conversation very obviously wasn’t going anywhere, but that option disintegrated as soon as she imagined Em Jay intentionally delaying her arrival with Glory and the pizza so she could take full advantage of her ‘chance’, which she was ninety-nine percent sure was the case.

“I really like pepperoni.” She blurted out. Your eyes momentarily traveled up to Gwen and you pursed your lips, nodding slowly.

“Cool.”

My God, you really were not collaborating even an ounce— it was a reach, but it was as if you were voluntarily trying to make this as difficult and socially traumatizing for Gwen as possible. Gwen scratched her head, searching for more conversation ideas, but her brain remained as empty as a desert in the middle of nowhere, except for the one tumbleweed happily rolling along its way which was her last idea, and the main purpose of this sad conversation.

“I’m really sorry for that high-five you tried to give me earlier,” Gwen muttered, incapable of looking at you straight in the eye for long. “Em Jay just told me about it.”

Finally, you tore your concentration away from your phone and focused on Gwen. You didn’t know whether it was the seriousness of her voice combined with the absurdity of the sentence, but you found yourself struggling to hold back your giggles. Gwen’s eyebrows twisted with puzzlement as she saw your blushing cheeks and you biting your lip hard, your shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

“That’s… adorable. It’s alright. It happens to all of us, I guess.” You laughed out. In Gwen’s never-ending humiliation, she couldn’t discern your expression from simple amusement or judgment.

Gwen stuttered, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Okay, cool. I-I just didn’t want you to think that I hated you or something like that.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I did not.”

“Good. Because I don’t. Obviously.” She continued, forcing out a chuckle. “I really don’t.”

You smiled hesitantly. “Again… don’t worry, I get it—”

“I just, I wasn’t paying attention to you.” Gwen clarified but closed her mouth immediately, regret drying her throat. You pressed your lips into a straight line. “But I don’t mean that in a rude way, hah. I’m always looking at you.” She dug herself deeper and her eyes grew wide, a tense cough fleeing past her lips after you raised your brows.

“I mean, no, I’m not always looking at you, like, staring, but like, looking forward to whatever you have to say…?” She talked slowly, questioning her own words. “Why would I look at you, anyway?” Ah, fuck, that’s not what she meant.

Your expression transformed into an offended look and she rushed to correct herself. “No! I mean— you’re, like, very, very pretty, don’t get me wrong.” She let out a frustrated sigh, “Again, I don’t mean that in a weird way, I just—”

“Okay! I get it.” You stopped her and stood up, pointing at your phone. “I have to go, it’s pretty late, so I won’t be able to eat with you guys, but, uh… thanks anyway. Maybe next time.” You explained, uncomfortable. You both dubiously gestured goodbye to each other before you nearly ran out of the door.

From then on, Gwen kind of wanted to hide in her room for the rest of her life, or at least from you; but sadly, she couldn’t do either. She could’ve moved on and just let it be a memory she could laugh about in the future, but she couldn’t hide what had happened to MJ— she retold her and Glory the encounter, and the trauma returned as Glory burst out laughing right in her face and Em Jay simply stared at her like a disappointed mother. Again, she really was determined to forget the whole ordeal, but later in the evening, when all she wanted to do was plop down on her bed and call it a night after another day of patrol, she answered her landline only for her ears to be attacked with MJ’s pleas for her to go fix things since ‘she was so embarrassed for her she literally couldn’t go to sleep’. Gwen hung up on her.

As she originally had intended before MJ disrupted her night, Gwen jumped onto her bed and rolled onto her back, promising in her head that she’d take off her suit in a minute. She stared up at the ceiling for longer than a minute, thinking about MJ’s words. What was the point in going to apologize to you again, anyway? Gwen wasn’t going to do it simply to please her. MJ could gladly go and shove her microphone up her—

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Gwen said to herself as she stood outside your school building. She looked down at her watch. She could’ve been doing so much right then. Someone was probably getting murdered, or a robbery was going on, and she had homework to finish, but she was wasting her time waiting in front of a school like the creep of the block. However, she thought she might as well stick to it in the instant that students began to swarm out of the entrance doors.

She considered leaving. It was her first thought when she ultimately saw you walking amongst the crowd, talking to your friends. You hadn’t noticed her. It wouldn’t make a difference if she spun and ran out of there, like a scared child fleeing from the monster living in her closet. You turned your gaze away from your friend whilst laughing, and similar to the demon (no offense) peeking through the slit in between the closet doors, you found yourself staring into a familiar pair of blue eyes.

There was no going back.

Gwen breathed in profoundly and flashed you a sheepish smile, waving weakly with her shoulders raised. She watched you say goodbye to your friends before you hesitantly approached her, your eyebrow lifted in a questioning manner. “Gwen?”

“Yup. That’s me, hah…” She moved her hair away from her face after the wind disheveled it, brushing it behind her ear as she avoided your eyes. “I know you’re wondering—”

“What you’re doing here? Yes, yes I am.” You said, the humor distinctive in your voice, but Gwen scrunched up her nose, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry, I’m not… stalking you,” She laughed nervously and stopped herself before history repeated itself. “I would’ve texted you, but my phone…” Now has a bullet hole. “Broke. Em Jay told me I could meet you here.”

You folded your arms across your chest, shifting your weight to one leg. “Well, I’m here, you’re here, so what’s up? Did you want to continue talking about how you don’t pay attention to me?” You joked, tilting your head.

Gwen winced slightly, cringing. “Actually, no.”

“Okay, good.”

“I came here to apologize. A real apology this time.”

You let your arms drop by your sides, interested and waiting for what she had to say. “I was really awkward. Painfully awkward, and I made you uncomfortable. So, I was hoping that we could maybe… start over again?” She held out her hand.

You briefly glanced down at it before glancing back up at her biting her lip anxiously. You giggled, nodding. “You’re so dramatic, dude.”

You shook her hand.

“So… we’re good?”

You smiled. “We’re good.” Gwen grinned back, her tooth gap having a peculiar effect in your stomach. She peeked at her watch a second time with the intent of leaving; but before she could say goodbye, you adjusted your backpack straps and spoke up. “Actually… now that you’re here, how about we go get something to eat?”

Gwen blinked, her finger coming up to point at her chest. “M-me? And you?” You agreed with your head, laughing.

“Obviously, you dummy. I don’t see anyone else here.” You playfully punched her arm and she looked down at the spot, her eyes narrowed.

Ah, well. There was no going back.

If there was one thing, one enemy that constantly played with Gwen’s sanity, time was a top-three candidate which popped into her head immediately. Popped wasn’t perhaps even the correct word, for it remained there everlastingly as a nagging fear— a deafening, continuous tick-tock reminding her of how little, or what a painstaking amount of time she had in her hands, and all the things she could or could not do during it. Being Spider-Woman, pages and pages of school work, the Mary Janes, Mary Jane and Gwen’s duty to answer her messages the moment she received them, her aspirations, her dad— it messed with her brain, tangled all the connections into an indestructible knot she could purely helplessly stare at. But when she read the time and realized how late it had become, the panic merely bubbled and spread in her chest. Rather you laughed and she felt the necessity to look away from the numbers to focus on you, despite the tick-tock still present and blaring like a tsunami alert in her ears.

You sat facing her in the restaurant booth, smirking as you bit into a french fry. “You know, I gotta say, you impressed me quite a lot with your drumming.” Gwen bashfully moved a piece of lettuce around her plate, propping her chin upon the palm of her hand.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” She shrugged, smiling at you. You maintained your gaze on her for a moment until you shook yourself out of your odd trance, lowering your head.

“Thanks for hanging out with me. I was tired of hanging out with myself, you know?”

Gwen furrowed her brows, adamant on fixing her look on the most boring stray lettuce ever. “Why? You’re a fun person.”

“Really? ‘Cause it doesn’t seem like that’s what you think about me.” You teased her, masking the undeniable bit of hurt.

Gwen’s finger’s movements came to a halt and she placed her hands on the table, leaning towards you. “What?! What do you mean?”

“Alright, then what do you really think about me?” You put your elbows on the hard surface and mimicked Gwen, a crooked smile adorning your features. Gwen bit her lip in thought, raising one shoulder.

“You’re cool.” She said simply, trying to appear nonchalant. An ‘oof’ slipped past your lips and you clutched onto your chest, dramatizing the insulted expression.

“That’s it? Just cool? I’m a bit hurt.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, laughing. “What else do you want me to say?”

“I dunno, last time you said I was— and I quote— ‘very, very pretty’” You recalled, using air quotes. Gwen scratched her eyebrow, left blank on what to reply because— oh, yeah right— she did, in fact, say that.

The smugness lingered on your face as you waited for her to break down and repeat herself, but she composed herself and cleared her throat. “Hey, it’s not fair if you’re the only one asking questions! Being interviewed is hard work, you know.” She raised her hands defensively, her eyebrows lifted. You immediately caught onto what she was doing and pointed an accusing finger at her.

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“Well, where’s the fun in knowing all the answers to the universe?”

You had to agree. But you leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, accidentally (or was it?) nudging her leg with your foot. “I don’t know. I like honesty.”

Oh dear, Gwen narrowed her eyes, her chest throbbing. “Hey—” The both of you jumped and looked at the source of the greeting— neither of you knew when exactly, but the waiter stood there with a polite smile, holding three menus close to his stomach. “Just letting y’all know that since Valentine’s Day is coming up, the milkshakes are on discount for couples.” Gwen leaned far away from the table, from you, and let out an uncomfortable chuckle.

“Oh, no, we’re not—”

“Oh, great!” You exclaimed and grabbed Gwen’s hand. “Do you want to share one, babe?”

Gwen froze, her shoulders and the hand you clutched onto tense, prickling at your touch. You looked at her attentively, and your lovey-dovey eyes left her stunned, grabbed onto her voice and trapped it in her throat— intimidated her. She had to give it to you, though, your acting could fool anyone or leave anyone wondering…especially her.

Seeing as the seconds continued to pass and she never replied, you chose to take it as a sign that she was following you and you glanced up at the waiter. “We’d like a vanilla milkshake, please.” You smiled.

Following the waiter’s departure, Gwen looked at you surprised. “I thought you liked honesty?” She laughed in disbelief, pretending to judge you intensely. You innocently picked up another fry, hiding your growing beam.

“Hey, I’m not gonna turn down a discount.”

Gwen giggled, shaking her head. “Fair enough. But you’re crazy.”

“But you still love me, right babe?” You smirked and lifted your connected hands. When Gwen realized she hadn’t let go yet, she first thought about pulling away. But she didn’t. Instead, she timidly squeezed your hand, forcing out a scoff.

“Right. Of course, babe.”

Finally, you unclasped your hands and Gwen’s hand slowly curled into a fist as she considered something. “Hey, where are you headed after this?” She rushed out. You tilted your head.

“Home. Why?”

She swallowed her nerves, thinking about dismissing her own question and shrugging it off. She had to get back home as well, after all.

But she didn’t want to yet.

“Can I walk you back?”

The walk back to your place dragged on for longer than usual, and you both pretended to act shocked, as if it’d been a glitch in the matrix and time ticked away slower than normal; but in the back of your heads, the two of you knew it’d been no accident, that you weren’t too engulfed into your conversation enough that you ended up taking the long way back home without noticing. Perhaps the two of you wandered longer, slowed down your pace much more than necessary— clung onto the moon and kept it in its place in the sky with your excuses so the night would stay, last as much as you wanted it to. Your efforts were partly successful, but of course, it had to come to an end eventually.

Your meetings didn’t, though. No, they were just getting started.

On Valentine’s Day, you might have taken advantage of another discount for couples, but no one really needed to know that. After that day and after Gwen finally got a new phone (it took her a few days to tell her dad, since she knew he wouldn’t be the happiest once he heard how her phone got destroyed in the first place), you sent her a message which she couldn’t deny made her insides feel a type of way: ‘If you ever need a fake date, don’t hesitate in calling me’.

And a winky face. She couldn’t forget the winky face.

But, in all truth, neither of you needed a ‘fake date’ as a reason to see each other. Every once in awhile, Thursday and Saturday after band practice, the two of you would abandon the girls and simply hang out. It didn’t matter where— sometimes you didn’t even have a place in mind, but somehow, gladly for your brain fearing rejection, Gwen would agree nonetheless. She didn’t think much about it until one afternoon, once you were done telling a bad joke that embarrassingly enough made her laugh, she realized she hadn’t checked the time. Not once.

During band practice, MJ and Glory noted that something had changed. Mainly because they soon realized they hadn’t witnessed any new embarrassing events between you two for them to laugh at behind your backs in a while, but your peeks at each other weren’t fearful anymore. They were now… something which they couldn’t place their finger on, but it was different enough for them to share a look and raise their eyebrows. Naturally, it didn’t take long before Em Jay had to jam herself into your affairs and asked you what you thought about Gwen, using as a justification that you had gotten a month and a half to get to know the band.

If Gwen could’ve gotten the opportunity to travel back in time to step in and prevent Em Jay from getting close to you with her blabbering mouth, she would’ve taken it immediately.

“When were you going to tell me you two fucking knew each other?!” MJ’s shriek hurt Gwen’s ears and left her speechless for a few moments after she walked into the room. Then, she succeeded in processing her question through her brain, and her face was now considerably paler than before.

“Hello to you too?”

MJ glared at her and walked away from her. While she moved around the many cables on the floor with her foot, Gwen dropped her backpack near the door, eyeing her. “How do you know?”

“I talked to Y/N.” She simply responded. Gwen huffed, unbelieving, and crossed her arms.

“And why did you talk to her?”

MJ gave her an obvious look. “Because, uh, she’s my bandmate? And my friend?” Gwen rolled her eyes and crouched down to take her drumsticks from her bag; meanwhile, Em Jay wasn’t over the topic yet. “I can’t believe you kept that from me. Unbelievable. I’m the only one who knows about your little spider secret!” She threw her hands in the air, as if her attitude wasn’t already dramatic enough. Gwen looked up at her with squinted eyes.

“Because you found out on accident. Did you also tell her about that?” She scoffed, standing up. Em Jay followed her to the drums, pursing her lips.

“No. She wouldn’t believe me anyway. But in my defense, Glory and Betty never do either, so you’ve literally got nothing to worry about.”

Gwen sat down on the drum stool. “We met last year, but we never became friends, though. We’re just acquaintances, I’m sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Em Jay shrugged, her expression unchanging. “Yeah, I guess. Now I’m embarrassed for you again, though. You have to apologize to her.”

Gwen’s mouth hung slightly open. “I already apologized twice! Why would I do it again?!”

“You acted as if you didn’t know her when you first met! Like, who does that?” However, before Gwen could explain herself, you and Glory walked through the door, carrying your instruments plus a milkshake in your hand.

“Sup.” Glory nodded her head at the two girls. MJ shot finger guns at her and you walked up to Gwen before you stretched out your arm, holding the milkshake up to her face.

Gwen quirked a brow. “What’s this?”

“I got you a milkshake, babe.” You joked, smirking. Gwen’s cheeks and ears reddened and she hesitantly accepted it, her mouth twitching. “Since we haven’t had the chance to hang out in a while.”

MJ and Glory shared another of their looks, the one with which they telepathically communicated with. After you left Gwen, MJ kneeled down beside her, grinning knowingly.

“She told me she thinks you’re great, dude. Do whatever you want with that information.”

Gwen chose not to do anything with it. At least not for now.

Summer break came along to free Gwen from the suffocating hold school had around her neck, and more importantly, to give her time to focus on patrolling, the Mary Janes, and, well, you. Texting you in the morning, texting you at noon, texting you in the afternoon after she managed to stop a robbery at Junction Boulevard, texting you at night; and she couldn’t forget, of course, spending time with you whenever you could. How could she forget? It seemed almost impossible now, for you had implemented yourself into her routine, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint in what moment. She didn’t even come upon the realization until you left the state for a week, and she found herself waiting for your texts.

However, once you returned and the band reunited, Em Jay wasted no time and suggested having a ‘girl’s night’ at her place, claiming it wasn’t because she ‘missed you all, or anything, but for band-bonding’. She sent you and Gwen to the store to buy snacks (and, unsurprisingly for Gwen, winked at Glory as you two walked out of the door), and right now you both stood in front of the freezers, Gwen observing you as you put all your concentration, your tongue poking out of your mouth, on combining two sodas into an empty water bottle. Gwen gagged dramatically, laughter escaping her throat nonetheless. “That’s fucking gross, man.” She grimaced while you giggled maniacally.

The new beverage fizzled and you analyzed it closely, your eyes following the bubbles dancing in the liquid. “I can’t believe they sell bacon and ranch dressing soda here. This place is nuts.”

“And you’re mixing them together.”

“You could say I’m a scientist.”

Gwen scoffed at your statement, a grin lingering on her face. You sniffed the soda, and held it up to her face. “Do you want to try it?”

Gwen pushed the bottle away with her finger, wrinkling her nose. “You could have me at gunpoint and I still wouldn’t try it.”

You pouted, screwing the cap closed. “Okay, your loss, I guess. I’ll have it here just in case you change your mind.” You waved the bottle and placed it on a shelf before you kneeled down to inspect the bags of marshmallows. Gwen shook her head, her smile reaching her eyes.

“Trust me, I won’t.”

You picked up a bag, eyeing her sideways. “You know what?” You stole back her attention and she hummed, tilting her head. “You’re my favorite member in the band.”

Gwen’s face softened, although she wondered if she was crazy, or if her hands were all of a sudden clammy. “Me? Your… your favorite?” She asked, her voice small. You looked down, hoping she couldn’t see your timid expression.

“Yeah. I mean, no offense to Em Jay or Glory— they’re both awesome, but… I really like you, Gwen Stacy.” You shared eye contact, the corner of your mouth quirking up.

Gwen searched for something to distract herself with, and wound up snatching a random bag of gummies and pretending to read the ingredients. “Are you just trying to get me to pay for all of this?” She joked, gesturing to the casket of food. You let out a dramatic sigh, grumpily looking away from her.

“Aw, man, you caught me.” You made a sad face, but it was fleeting. “…But, no. I mean it. For real.”

Gwen bit her lip, her face the shade of the cherry candy in her hands. “Yeah, well… you’re pretty cool as well, Y/N L/N.” She copied you, shrugging. You groaned in annoyance, staring heavenward.

“Don’t give me that ‘you’re cool’ bullshit again.” You warned, mocking her voice and she giggled, placing the candy back in its place.

“What? It’s the truth!”

“Is that really all you think of me?” You feigned disappointment, playing with her.

No. Most definitely not. Gwen had grown to form many opinions about you other than solely ‘just cool’. Her thoughts varied. Sometimes she liked the way you made her laugh so effortlessly. Other times she couldn’t wrap her head around how, with you, the concept of time was both nonexistent and eternal, a concept you took its meaning away from, for it became irrelevant. She loved how you played bass, and how you gave it a voice, personified it into a dancing body that mesmerized her. She liked the way the corners of your eyes crinkled when you smiled, and how you tilted your head sometimes when you were confused like a puppy. She liked your way of talking, your hair, how you dressed, your posture, your face and the flaws in your skin.

Maybe she really liked you. And that scared her.

When she didn’t answer, you gave up and stood up, stretching your legs. “Okay, at least I’m glad you think I’m cool. It’s what I’d expect from my fake girlfriend.” You winked at her playfully, but she wasn’t fully paying attention now. “Okay, last question, though—”

Gwen sighed, her shoulders dropping. “What now?” You moved your arms behind your back, drawing a circle with the tip of your shoe on the floor.

“You never answered if you really think that I’m pretty.”

Gwen almost choked. She thought she had escaped that question months ago. Without thinking, her gaze landed on the soda hybrid sitting on the shelf and she grabbed it. You didn’t know what was happening in front of you until Gwen was sputtering after taking a big gulp of the drink. “What the fuck?! Why did you do that!” You gasped, your eyes wide and the laughter daring to climb up your throat.

Gwen stuck her tongue out and coughed, her face scrunching up with regret. “If I drink the soda then I don’t have to answer the question.” You couldn’t believe she was willing to do anything instead of giving you an answer.

You doubled over, cackling and holding your stomach. “Since when is that a rule?!”

“Since now.”

For the record, Gwen did think you were pretty. Very, very pretty.

As time went by, Gwen couldn’t help but stare during practice. Stare at your fingers, sliding down and up the neck with ease; your head, nodding along to the music, lost in it enough that you didn’t notice the obvious ogling from her part. And your face. She tried focusing on it most of the time, but it resulted a lot more difficult than she originally expected. You either moved it too much whilst you played, or you faced away from her since��well— she did play the drums.

There was also the third reason. The unsettling burn in her chest that sped up her breathing if her mind went too far, which occurred if she thought about you too much. Too deeply. But, God, did she try, and God, did she take advantage of every time you looked back at her, because you inexplicably dissolved that uneasiness in her.

Late at night, with your blankets wrapped around you tightly, you stared at your phone screen, mindlessly scrolling and double-tapping every picture you came upon. Not a minute passed before you opened a conversation, however, perhaps for the fourth time— not that it was anyone’s business, anyway— awaiting for another text. Gwen’s text, to be more specific. You didn’t want to come off as obsessive, but it had been an hour and thirteen minutes yet she hadn’t responded, and you… were missing her? You shook your head. Well. There was a possibility that you were. Maybe, you couldn’t get her off your mind, and maybe, you wished you could simply think about her and she’d integrate right there in your bedroom—

A knock on the window disrupted your train of thought, and as if on cue, a notification rang from your phone. ‘It’s me’, you read. Gwen had sent the message. “What the fuck?” You muttered, confused. Needing to see it for yourself, you jumped out of your bed and ran to your window before you unlatched the window lock and slid it open.

Of course, as the text message said, it was indeed Gwen, in your fire escape, and not a prank she elaborated to scare the life out of you. “Hi.” Was all she said. You tilted your head, your brows knitted together.

“Hi? Is that all you’re going to say?”

She thought for a second. “…How are you?”

“What are you doing in my fire escape?”

“I got locked out of my house.” She shrugged.

You let out a huff of air in disbelief, moving out of the way so she could climb inside. As she threw one leg over the sill, you placed your hands on your hips, shaking your head. “You get locked out of your house, and the first place that comes to your mind is my place?” You questioned, amused. Yet again, Gwen raised and dropped her shoulders. You went to close the window, but not before glancing out, imagining all the struggle she must’ve gone through to lower the ladder and then climb up five stories. “And how the hell did you even get all the way up here?” You muttered to yourself, but Gwen heard it.

“It’s a fire escape, my dear. They’re there to, you know, get out of the building so you don’t die if there’s a fire?”

You rolled your eyes and sat down on your bed. “Okay, just be quiet, ‘cause I don’t think my family would be very happy about having an unexpected visitor this late.” Guilt sculpted Gwen’s countenance.

“I mean… I can leave if you want—”

“No.” You said quickly, too fast for your liking, actually. You cleared your throat and smiled, patting the area beside you. “No, it’s alright. You can stay however long you want. They don’t have to find out.” You waggled your eyebrows jokingly. She was grateful the sole lamp rested on your bedside table, far away from you and its amber touch embracing you alone, for she didn’t need you seeing the blood rapidly rushing to her warm face.

Gwen sat down where you motioned her to, although kept some distance, and squeezed her hands resting on her lap together. “Thanks… it’ll just be a while. My dad had an emergency, and I really don’t know when he’ll be back, so…” She explained and popped her mouth after her sentence died out. You nodded understandingly, shuffling somewhat closer to her.

“I’m glad you came here. I wouldn’t want you staying out there and freezing to death. Plus, I was pretty bored.”

Gwen raised a brow. “Bored? Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”

You scoffed with a faint smile. “Shut up, hypocrite. You were out so late that you got left out of your house.”

“I was busy!”

“Doing what? Selling drugs?”

“Maybe. You’ll never know.”

You began to fan yourself. “Ooh, a drug lord, so hot.”

Gwen scrunched up her nose, giving you a judgemental look. “Is that what turns you on? Drug lords?”

“Nah, that’s not quite it…” You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye before your gaze shifted to your lap, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

Gwen didn’t know whether she was reaching— but oh. She didn’t know what courage the universe granted her, either, for she then focused on her nails and pretended to be uninterested. “Huh, then what does turn you on?” Your eyebrows almost reached your hairline in surprise, but you quickly composed yourself.

“Why do you want to know?” You asked, leaning closer to her. She shrugged one shoulder.

“I mean, you never know. What if a friend of mine wanted to ask you out?”

You bit your lip. “Depends. Is she cute?”

“I never specified their gender. And it’s theoretical.” She cleared up, raising one finger. You laughed, moving even closer to her.

“Well, then, I really like blue eyes.”

“…Really?” Her shy voice made your organs jump, which you didn’t know if it was normal or a serious medical condition you should get checked out. You hummed, holding yourself up with your arms behind you. “They’re cool, I guess.” Again, she tried to sound as if she didn’t care, or as if your comment didn’t make her as happy as it secretly did.

“Short hair is also pretty cute.” You added. “Especially if it’s a cool hairstyle.”

“A cool… a cool hairstyle, huh? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” Gwen now knew how frustrated you felt when she avoided your questions. “What about you?” You looked at her, insecurity threatening to overpower your current confidence.

“Oh. I don’t know. Musicians are hot.” She showed you a crooked smile. You wanted to squeal, embarrassingly enough.

“Do you like bass guitar players?” A bold move, indeed. Gwen faked entering deep into thought.

“…Eh, I think drummers are hotter.”

You shoved her playfully, laughing. “Rude!”

“Hey, you asked what I liked.” You both giggled, struggling to keep your noises down, but eventually, your laughter dissipated and she played with her fingers. “But bass players are pretty cute, too.”

You gulped, Gwen’s shoulder touching yours spiking your nerves. “Yeah, well, I agree that drummers are cute, too.”

You both glanced down at each other’s lips, holding your breaths. However, before you could do anything, Gwen got to her feet. “You should try getting some sleep. I don’t want you being sleep deprived because of me.” She laughed nervously, taking off her sneakers.

Disappointment invaded your brain, but admittedly, your eyes did feel a lot heavier than before. “What are you gonna do?” You questioned, remembering her situation. You definitely were more worried than her, who was unfazed.

“I’ll just wait I guess.”

“You should catch some Z’s as well.”

Gwen didn’t argue. She climbed into bed with you, although insisted she didn’t need any covers or blankets since she was just going to take a nap. After that, you couldn’t resist the sleep threatening to spread through your system and you passed out. It felt like minutes passed at most, until you were suddenly gently shaken awake.

You fought to open your eyes before you squinted and looked up at whoever had woken you up. Slowly, the indistinguishable figure transformed into Gwen’s apologetic smile dimly lit by your bedside lamp.

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

You groaned, rubbing your bleary eyes and sitting up. “What time is it?” You croaked out. Gwen squinted to discern the numbers in her watch.

“Two in the morning.”

“Two in the morning?!” She nodded, laughing quietly. “Do you have to go?” You would’ve been embarrassed by the heartbreak in your voice, but you were too out of it to dwell on it.

“Yeah, but it’s okay, you can go back to sleep. I just wanted to let you know.”

You didn’t quite process what was going on until you saw her backing away to the window. Suddenly fully awake, your eyes widened and you threw your covers off of you. “What are you doing?”

Gwen opened the window and glanced back at you, lifting a brow. “Leaving?”

You yawned, shaking your finger at her. “No, no, no—” You rubbed your eye and laughed at her. “How about I lead you out of the door like a normal person?”

Gwen blushed, slowly closing the window. “Ah, well, I guess that’s an option.”

“I don’t want to wake anyone up, though, so just stay quiet, alright?” Gwen simply nodded and you wrapped your hand around her wrist, guiding her towards your bedroom door. You opened it as silently as you could, holding your breath, almost afraid that if you breathed, the entire house would be blown away. There’s only darkness, but you walked into it unbothered, while Gwen followed you like a loyal animal. Now that her sight was gone, she fully took in your touch as your soft hold tugged on her arm. You suddenly stopped and she mimicked you, patiently waiting for the sound of the unlocking of the door. However, all she picked up was the shuffling of your feet before you held in your breath. Then, she felt your other hand grab hers.

“Gwen?” You asked quietly, your voice so timid the darkness and the silence could’ve easily engulfed it. Without the view of your face, your skin against hers seemed too much, nearly unbearable.

“…Y-Yeah?”

“Can you see me?”

She shook her head, until she recalled that if she couldn’t see you, neither could you see her and the gesture was nothing more than useless. “Not really.”

“Okay. Cool.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

You giggled, and it didn’t knock over the walls, but it most definitely almost did her body. “No. Do you want me to?”

“Eh… no, thanks.”

“Ok, dork.” You chuckled, but it instantly came to an end. Your breathing wasn’t steady anymore— it trembled, sounded heavy. Then, out of nowhere: “If I kiss you, are you going to run away?”

Gwen just blinked. Despite the darkness, white dots exploded in her vision. “W-what?” Her voice almost failed her.

“Can I kiss you?”

In the room, there was nothing more. It was just your nervous breaths, your loud fridge, and Gwen’s heart. Her heart at full volume, pumping fast, doing its best to keep her awake, sane, on her feet. It was just you and her. Solely you, your gentle hands, and her. She blinked again.

“Okay.”

Your touch disappeared but then reappeared on her cheek, and absentmindedly, she placed her hand over yours. Your thumb, shaking, searched for her mouth, until it successfully brushed against her lips. Gwen gulped, her skin tingling as your breath fanned over it.

It was just you, her, and your lips. Your lips and her own.

You both remained with your eyes closed after your lips lost contact, although it didn’t make a difference in any way. But Gwen’s eyelids fluttered open, and a beam began to blossom.

“I’m glad you didn’t kill me.”

You kissed her a second time before she left.

It would be a criminal understatement to say that Gwen freaked out after she arrived back home. When she made the decision to start letting new friends into her life for good at the beginning of the year as another New Year’s resolution, she took a gigantic step. She then spoke to MJ, which was a leap in itself, and you joined the band. She stumbled, balanced herself on one foot at the edge for a while, but eventually, she managed to jump to the third step once she waited outside your school and apologized to you. She was convinced that would be it; the final and toughest stride, because if she managed to get past through all the previous ones, then it had to mean she was ready, right?

She was just finding out she was wrong, though.

The plan was to make a friend. A friend and nothing more nor nothing less. However, without being fully conscious of it, she continued to sprint up the stairs, past what her original intention was. And now, as she stared so far up at the next colossal step— at the feelings that kept growing for you, at your kiss, at you— she felt herself tipping backwards. There was no way she could climb that. She’d only slip and plummet down to her death.

Somehow, though, when you two agreed on meeting up at an arcade two days later, she decided she might as well go for it.

Gwen eyed the time for what she felt was the millionth time that day and her mask muffled the groan that followed. She had at least thirty minutes left of patrol and— she knew it was a dramatic statement— she didn’t know if she would be able to make it through them. I could call it a day earlier, she thought. It had been the most uneventful day lacking any major criminal activity, after all: all she did was help a little kid get back to his father and stop the usual theft, but other than that, she spent the day swinging around and even had the time to take a picture with a fan.

Her phone began to vibrate. You were calling her. “Hey… you…kid…” She cringed. How was she supposed to greet you from now on? Things weren’t the same.

She heard you snort at her hello. “Hi. Just wanted to tell you that I’m on my way.”

Gwen’s brows snapped together and she checked the time one more time. “Already? You’re early.”

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to get started earlier so I don’t have to walk back home too late, but also so I can beat your ass and get more tickets than you.”

“Are you challenging me?”

“Not really, because I already know I’m gonna win.”

“Don’t sound so confident,” Gwen smiled and lied down on her back, staring up at the sky. “But if you do win, you better get me a prize.”

“Why would I get the loser a prize? I’m gonna get myself something cool and big and rub it in your face.”

Gwen scoffed but giggled nonetheless. All of a sudden, you went dead silent and she sat up, perking her ears for any further noise. “Y/N? Are you still there?”

It took you a few seconds to answer. “I just heard something weird.”

Gwen’s face drained of color and she jumped up, the tingling present in the back of her head. “Are you alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Get out of there. Now. Find somewhere that’s crowded.”

“Don’t be so paranoid. I bet it’s nothing. Could you imagine if I, like, got murdered, though?” You laughed nervously, trying to ease both of your nerves but Gwen’s sting in her head was only strengthening. “How tragic. Anyway—”

Your voice halted. A distant strangled cry left the speaker. “Y/N?!” Gwen called for your attention, frantic, her heart nearly breaking out of her chest. Something was not right.

“Hold on.”

It was all you said before you ended the call. She wasted no time nor hesitated— she ran to the end of the rooftop and jumped off, shooting a web. She swung as fast as she could, to the point where her aim nearly missed a building. Her thoughts were rushed, hectic, created the worst scenarios so vivid the bile began to make her way up her throat and she had to blink the dampness of her eyes away.

Hiding behind a dumpster nearing the end of an alleyway, you held your phone up to your ear, your legs aching from the speed with which you ran away. You could barely breathe. It was just a messy attempt of ragged breaths that despite how hard you tried to make them quiet, you simply couldn’t. “Please hurry up.”

“We’re trying to get there as fast as we can, miss. Are you hurt?”

“N-No, I’m fi—” A loud bang shook the dumpster next to you and you involuntarily yelped in fear. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth, but it was too late.

The woman and the man who chased you quickly found you, and the guy gripped your arm, yanking you out of your hiding spot. “What the fuck did you see?!” He spat in your face, holding you trapped against his body with his arm choking your neck. “Tell us or you’re fucking dead, hear me?!”

You sputtered and your fingernails scratched his arm, trying to get him off of you. When you realized you weren’t getting anywhere, your eyes flickered down to your hand. You blindly moved it up to his face, and once you grazed his eyelashes, you dug your fingers into his eye with all your strength.

He cried out and let go of you. Without thinking, you spun around and went in to punch whatever area of his face you hoped your hit landed on. But he recovered quickly and caught your fist in mid-air. All you could do was stare at him in horror. You didn’t quite process what was coming at you until he struck your eye.

“Bad move, kid.” The woman said and you glanced up at her with watery eyes, shielding the throbbing left side of your face. She took out her gun, pointed it at you, and your heart dropped.

You had lost all hope, until a ‘thwip!’ echoed in between the walls.

Out of nowhere, a web stuck to the barrel of the gun and, in the blink of an eye, snatched it from the woman’s grasp. Spider-Gwen came into your blurry vision before she spun the gun and smacked it onto the stranger’s head.

She stumbled backwards, grasping her head. Meanwhile, Gwen shot two webs at the wall behind the older girl. Holding onto the strings tightly, she pushed herself off the ground and knocked her down with a kick at her jaw. As she webbed her to the wall, her eyes suddenly widened. She swiftly ducked under, dodging a punch coming from the man behind her. Crouching down, she swiped her leg under him and sent him down.

After he fell on the ground, Gwen towered over him, her fists shaking with fury. As soon as he opened his eyes, she drew her arm back and smashed her knuckles into his nose, a painful crack resonating clear and loud.

She panted loudly, her chest rising and falling quickly as she trapped the now unconscious man’s hand to the gravel. She continued to observe him, her lip twitching, the sirens approaching in the background, until she heard a dry sob behind her. She looked back, only to see you backed up into the corner, hugging yourself.

Gwen ran up to you and kneeled down in front of you, holding your hand. “H-Hey, hey, you’re okay now.” She shushed you, her hand almost coming up to your cheek until she stopped herself. She wanted to stay with you and ask more questions, but two police cars parked themselves at the start of the alleyway. Her heart screamed at her not to. It cursed at her, begged for her feet not to move. However, she looked down at you one last moment and she shot a web up at the sky, zipping out of there.

She watched over you for an hour and a half as you talked to the police, and then when the paramedics attended you. She couldn’t stay long, though, since you furrowed your brows and then glanced up, your sight focusing on her. She instantly hid away, deciding that it’d be best if she just waited at your apartment.

Gwen tried telling herself that you were now fine. She saw you there, not missing a limb or anything, breathing and alive. But despite that, she couldn’t rest in peace. The image of you in the corner— your entire body shaking, your rough appearance, the tears that abandoned your eyes. Broken. It wouldn’t fuck off despite how many times she told it to.

She couldn’t help but recall Peter Parker’s face as she shakily held his corpse in her arms. And then she remembered why she had given up on letting anyone get close to her in the first place.

She had lost track of how long she’d been staring at your window. The window which she climbed through just three nights ago when she got locked out of her place. The night your warm smile greeted her. The night you first kissed her. The night that, perhaps if it hadn’t occurred— if she hadn’t forgotten to take her key with her, or she had left her window open, if she had gone to Em Jay’s, Glory’s, or even Betty’s place instead of yours— if she hadn’t been in the picture, you wouldn’t be in the situation that you were in now.

Because of her, you could’ve lost your life.

She’d texted you— as Gwen— asking if you were alright. It didn’t help that you straight up lied and said that you weren’t feeling alright so you decided to skip the night. At last, the light turned on in your room and she snapped out of a trance. It didn’t take long before she was trying to look through your window as discreetly as she could, her heart starting yet again with its running when she made out your silhouette. It moved around the room, until it stopped in front of the window. To her nightmare, your figure grew bigger as it came closer and closer, and opened the window. When she saw your face, her insides twisted.

You nearly screamed as soon as you saw Spider-Woman outside your window. You jumped back. It was the Spider-Woman. Unbelieving, you blinked at her— a bad idea, you then realized, considering your bruised eye.

“…Spider-Woman?”

“Uh, hi there.”

You touched your head, closing your eyes. Maybe the blow you received was worse than you thought. “Am I hallucinating?”

Gwen laughed weakly. “Nope. I’m very real right now.”

“Oh, okay.” You stared at her, disoriented, a million questions running through your brain. “Can I— can I ask what you are doing here?” You chose to ask first.

“I, uh, wanted to check up on you after the incident that happened earlier. I didn’t really have time to say anything.” It wasn’t fully a lie. You nodded slowly, tilting your head.

“How’d you know where I live?”

She couldn’t judge you for asking so many questions, but God, coming up with a lie on the spot was turning out to be problematic for her. “Uh… spider-sense?”

She tried.

You were yet more perplexed. “Spider what?”

“It’s a thing… I have…” She tapped her head. Again, it wasn’t a full-blown lie. Thankfully, you didn’t continue budging and instead hummed, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. “You don’t have to answer— only if you want to talk about it, but…what happened?” She asked quietly, afraid of your reaction. Your body went rigid and you hesitated.

“I was going to meet up with a girl I like when I heard and then saw someone getting beaten to death.” Her white eye lenses grew big. “The two out of the three people doing it saw me and began to chase me. I tried to hide, but they eventually caught up to me.” You whispered.

Her fingers touched her mouth. “Oh God… I’m so… I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.”

You raised a brow. “…What do you mean? You saved me.”

“But I…” Gwen choked up and you furrowed your brows. She checked her watch, her body so weak she was surprised she was standing up. “I have to go. I’m sorry you had to go through that. You don’t deserve it.”

Before you could reply, she scurried away from your window and leaped off the fire escape. You watched as she swung away and eventually disappeared, feeling hazy and more puzzled than ever.

After she thought she had gotten far away enough, Gwen dropped down on a random rooftop, stumbling and falling to her knees. She felt trapped inside the mask. Almost as if it were stuck, permanently sewn to her skin, and if she tried to rip it off, she’d tear every last inch of skin off with it. She was the mask. She was Spider-Woman, and would forever be. It’s a responsibility she was doomed with for eternity unless she lost a fucking limb or her own life, and there’s nothing she could do about it. She couldn’t simply walk away, or dispose of all the criminals and villains, all the calamities and traps hurled at her which sent her defenseless body flying, hurting it, along with everyone else in the way. Everyone else like Peter. Peter and now you.

Her trembling hand ripped off her mask, her wet face nearly freezing as the wind attacked her skin. She took out her phone and searched for your contact, wiping her nose with her gloves. “Hey…” She typed, but stopped. Keep going, she urged herself. Just fucking write. Her thumb hung above the keyboard, her teary eyes fixed on the cursor blinking, taunting her.

“If you don’t do this, I’m going to hate you for the rest of my fucking life, Gwen.” She hissed at herself and hiccuped after. It didn’t matter if you hated her. It had to be done.

You inspected with a frown at your bruised eye in the mirror, your fingers ghosting over the swollen skin. But your grimace vanished and a faint grin took over your features when you received a message and read Gwen’s name. Rapidly, you opened the text, the overwhelming heaviness burning in your chest immediately flickering out.

It was only temporary, though.

Gwen read the message one last time, and her heart dropped down to her stomach the instant she saw you had opened it. Her own words repeated themselves in her head, slashing her skin with regret, mercilessly cutting her heart apart into unfixable bits.

“I’ve been thinking lately, and I think it’d be best if we’re just bandmates. You’re cool, so I hope that there are no hard feelings between us.”

She turned off her phone and closed her eyes, letting out a long breath. Somehow, she still hated herself.

You didn’t reply. Not a word, no phone call. Nothing. You explained to MJ and Glory what had happened and missed band practice for a week, saying you wanted your eye to heal as much as possible. You never told Gwen anything, though. The girls were in charge of doing it, and she had to act surprised and repress the regret that stabbed at her. Glory was shocked she wasn’t the first to find out and she questioned her about it, but Gwen solely shrugged and forced out a laugh when MJ joked that getting hurt was a curse running for bassists in the band.

The week had finally passed by and you came to Thursday rehearsal. You still greeted Glory with your secret handshake and MJ with the usual hug, as enthusiastic as always. But you ignored Gwen, and she didn’t fight against it. She had now made a promise to herself she couldn’t break.

You’d been practicing for an hour longer than usual, stuck on the same song since Em Jay would stop in the midst of it and insist that you started over again. Everyone knew who was— or, to be more correct— were the culprits, but no one dared to speak up. MJ broke away from the mic, rubbing her face in frustration, and raised her fist in the air to end the playing. “Okay, that sucked. Yet again. But it’s okay, let’s start over from the top.”

Glory let her fingers run down the keyboard, creating what you could say was the loveliest catastrophe of a melody, and sighed. “Em Jay, I think we should take a break—”

“No, no, no, we’ll get it right this time. Let’s just get it over with, okay?” No one agreed, but she continued nonetheless. “One, two, three!”

You began again. At first, no one was messing up, and Em Jay’s hope returned. However, a minute into the song, both the drums and the bass went their own ways and invented their own pace, and MJ turned around, her hands on her hips. “I didn’t want to say it, but you two really need to get your shit together.” She pointed at Gwen and then at you.

Gwen glanced at you. “Y/N’s a bit late.” You opened your mouth in disbelief and faced her.

“You’re going way too fucking fast!”

“No, that’s the right tempo.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Uh, yeah, it is.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Since when?”

“Since always!” Gwen exclaimed, sharing your scowl. “I’m the one who’s been here since the beginning, I think I know better.”

You couldn’t keep your mouth shut any longer.

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know shit, okay?!” You yelled at her, taking an intimidating step closer to her. When MJ noticed Gwen gripping her drumsticks hard, she tried to intervene.

“Guys—”

“Leave it, Mary Jane.” Gwen warned her, her face stern, and MJ stared at her, expressionless.

“It’s Em Jay.”

“I don’t fucking care!”

“Yeah, you very clearly don’t, huh?” You said, laughing without humor and stepping even closer to Gwen. “You don’t know shit, and you don’t give a shit about anyone. It’s scary how you pretend to care about someone, but you don’t. You just fucking use them to keep yourself entertained for a while, until you get bored and then decide to leave.” You were now right in front of her, and you pointed an accusing finger into her face. Gwen tensed her jaw, fighting hard against the wetness of her eyes.

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, don’t fucking lie, Gwen.” You glared at her, shaking your head. “Don’t act like I don’t know you.”

You both shared eye contact for a few moments, and as Gwen began to blink hard, you scoffed and took a step back. “Whatever.” You muttered and turned away. “I think I’m done for the day.”

The room stayed dead silent while you packed your things up. Glory and Em Jay communicated with each other through their gazes, both equally as confused, but Gwen stuck her sight to the floor, her lip trembling as she curled her hand so tightly around the drumstick it snapped. You slammed the door shut, and Em Jay cleared her throat, biting her nails.

“What the fuck just happened?” MJ and Glory moved their stares to Gwen. “Gwen?”

Gwen rubbed her eye, sighing. “What?” She mumbled. MJ approached her slowly, frowning.

“You got something to tell us?”

Gwen shrugged. “Maybe.” Glory raised her brows. “I messed up long ago.”

“She seems too mad for it to have been long ago.” MJ laughed nervously, but Gwen wasn’t taking any of it anymore. She stood up and pulled her hair, groaning.

“God, Em Jay, this wouldn’t have happened if you had just fucking stopped trying so hard to make our friendship work. You don’t even care about me making friends, you just wanted to feel good about yourself for helping poor little me!” She shouted, nudging MJ with her drumsticks. Em Jay remained quiet, visibly hurt, and hugging herself.

“Gwen.” Glory repeated, her strict voice shocking both Gwen and MJ. “I think you hurt someone. And I think you owe them an apology.”

Gwen took a moment to breathe, and that was when she realized what she had done. She looked at MJ and grabbed her hand, squeezing it. “I’m sorry, Em Jay. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. Thank you for trying. I should’ve tried harder as well.” She whispered sadly.

The corner of MJ’s mouth quirked upwards, and gripped her hand back. “Thanks. But I think you’ve got one more apology left.”

It felt like February all over again. Back when MJ called her to tell her the same thing, and one day later, Gwen waited outside your school. However, this time, she knew she had to apologize for real. For the correct reason.

Gwen let her drumsticks fall to the floor and she jumped over the cables. Speeding out of the door, she hoped she still had the chance to catch up to you and hadn’t lost you again. To her relief, you were at the end of the corridor, in front of the opening elevator doors when she called out your name. Your ears perked up, but your expression hardened when you saw her running up to you. “Y/N, listen—”

“Fuck off.” You laughed and moved to get into the elevator, but Gwen grabbed your arm and spun you around.

“No!” You stared at her, shocked. “N-No, I’m not going to… fuck off. Not this time.” Her eyes were big, begging.

You clutched her wrist and pulled her hand away from you. “I think it’s too little too late, Gwen. I’ve had enough.”

“I made a mistake.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Just let me talk, please.”

“No.” You shushed her, breathing heavily. “Let me talk, okay? Let me tell you about this little mistake of yours. Not only did you act as if you didn’t know me months ago and said we were never friends when I joined the band, but you acted as if you hadn’t already done this. You played with my feelings. Not once, but apparently fucking twice! And you didn’t even apologize!”

Your voice broke as you finally let out your repressed feelings, and you hated yourself for it. You despised yourself for still listening to her, for still caring about her.

You left Gwen speechless. “You wanted to talk, and now I’m giving you the chance. Say something.” You begged, prepared to be let down. But she looked up at you and let out a shaky sigh, sniffing.

“I don’t… I don’t know. I thought I liked you a year ago when we first met. I really did. The feelings were there, b-but…”

“If you never liked me, then why’d you come back?” You asked, broken-hearted. It hurt Gwen to see how much pain she had caused you, all because she was too much of a coward to own up to her feelings.

“That’s the thing.” She breathed out, shrugging. “Maybe I do.”

Your face softened. “What?”

“Don’t make me explain it, please.”

“You have to.”

“I can’t.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, groaning. “For fuck’s sake.” Gwen shook her head and her shoulders began to shake.

“I can’t…”

“Why not—”

“Because it scares me!” She cried out, a sob finally breaking free from her system. You frowned.

“Why?”

“B-Because…” She wiped her nose, struggling to spit it out. “I really like you. I really do. And I don’t know if I’m ready for something like that. I can’t lose you.”

You gently grabbed her shoulder, while your other hand held her chin. “I’m not going to run away from you. I’m here.”

It wasn’t as simple as that. “I can’t.” She said again, even if she didn’t want to let go of your touch. You bit your lip.

“You can’t or you don’t want to?”

She didn’t know what to answer. Your hand slowly sneaked down to hold hers, and you looked at her for permission, your expectations not as high. But she clutched your hand hard. “You can do it, Gwen. You can’t spend the rest of your life like this. If you do, you will lose everyone.” You smiled sadly. You quieted down, pondering, but eventually, you breathed out and closed your eyes. “I really like you, too. I always did. And if I have to wait, it’s okay. Just… don’t disappear again, okay?”

Gwen analyzed your face. She wondered what you must have looked like that night back when you kissed her. And since she hadn’t done anything right before, she wondered whether she could try again.

In a second, she squeezed her eyes shut and pecked your lips. You were caught off guard as your fingers came up to touch your mouth. “Nah, you’re right. I think it’s about damn time.” She bit back her smile.

She took the big step.

#spider gwen x reader #spider gwen x you #gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy x you #spider man: into the spider verse #sm:itsv #fem! reader #gwen stacy imagine #gwen stacy one shot #fan fiction #marvel

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mythrilhusk · 4 years ago

Text

Our World - Chapter One

Technoblade-centric; obligatory Greek Pantheon/The Office AU, No shipping, Not RPF

2.4k words, slightly funny (maybe?), AO3 Link,

Features ND/Schizophrenic!Technoblade - (Written by myself, an actually schizophrenic/neurodivergent person... Neurotypicals/Non-psychotics should not attempt this.)

CW: Intrusive thoughts/visions/urges, auditory hallucinations

Elysium's smallest company branch rests unobtrusively in the town Oneiros, buried in some backwoods county. Technoblade reads through the list of employees once more as his taxi weaves through a mountain pass. His equipment sits on the seat beside him, while the rest of his luggage bounces in the trunk.

Elysium's CFO, some guy named Eret, hired Techno on the spot when he came to the interview. Seemed kinda desperate, but eh, so was Technoblade.

H's not entirely sure why they would only hire one guy to do this job. Eh, work is work, and they sure pay well enough. They're providing an apartment, too. An actual roof over his head will be nice, for however long Techno can keep the job. He bets a week, tops.

The narrow road crests over the top of the mountain, revealing the town beneath sprawling in the valley. The Elysium office building juts out of the south side of the town, an ugly block of concrete and glass. Technoblade wrinkles his nose in disdain, silently agreeing with chat as they mock the displeasing aesthetics.

When his taxi pulls up into the parking lot, Technoblade piles his luggage and equipment on the sidewalk before paying the driver. He adds a tip, too, though he can barely afford even that much. The driver's pale cheeks stretch in a nervous smile as he clutches the money; he's too afraid to protest the miniscule tip. Techno doesn't make an effort to smile back, too busy ignoring visions featuring the bloody crunch of the man's neck between his thirsty teeth.

The taxi peels away, leaving Technoblade alone in the chilly mountain air. With ringing ears and a heavy huff, Techno gathers his stuff and heads into the building.

The receptionist plays on his phone, ignoring Technoblade even when he raps his knuckles atop the boy's shaggy brown hair. "Tubbo," He grunts, recalling the appearance from the employee list.

Tubbo starts, staring up at Techno with wary intensity, like a tiger cub encountering a wild boar for the first time. Techno smiles wryly at the boy, who must still be younger than eighteen. Chat clamors for blood, urging him with the weight of his knife, but Technoblade doesn't entertain them.

"Technoblade." Tubbo regains his composure and holds out a hand. "I'm so glad you're finally here, big man, we've been waiting."

"Why the rush?" Technoblade snorts, ignoring the proffered handshake. Physical contact irritates him.

Tubbo drops his hand. "We just really like documentaries about ourselves, yeah?"

"K." It's not his place to question a gig, although chat goes wild with suspicion. "Where am I staying?"

"Oh, right, you'll be staying with Philza. Heh, try not to piss him off. Or do, it'll be funny." Tubbo waves to the rest of the wide room. "Phil! Your roommate's here!"

"Fuck off, mate, I told you bastards, I don't want a fucking roommate." Techno recognizes the man who speaks as the dude in charge of customer relations: Philza. His golden hair glints with hints of fire, setting off his blue eyes, as merciless as the stars.

Chat froths, raging for blood, blood, blood, but Techno mentally bats them away. "K, welp, I was promised boardin' with this gig. I don't really care where; just get me a place to stay." Technoblade shrugs, baring his teeth in a smile that's just south of friendly.

Philza smiles too, showing off his fangs. Tubbo holds up his hands, saying, "Woah, woah, here. Phil, it's your turn. It's not gonna last long, anyway."

"Heh? Turn?" Technoblade chuffs, even as the cacophony that is chat hisses, technodead, technodead, lmao, RIP- Shut up, chat, we are not dead yet.

Philza's grin widens maliciously. "Oh, did Eret not tell you?"

"That dude told me the bare minimum, man, I dunno, I dunno what you expected."

"You're not the first film crew he's hired," Tubbo says with a faux apologetic shrug. Before Technoblade can protest the use of crew to describe one man, Tubbo continues with the barest hint of a smirk. "But the other ones died, just like you will."

Technodead, technodead, EEEEEE, RIP, RIP, F, EEE, lmaooo, F, rainbowchat- "Get outta here," Techno drawls, narrowing his eyes. Not for the first time, he wishes chat had a physical embodiment he could punt. "Technoblade never dies."

"We'll see," Philza muses, his eyes twinkling with the apathetic amusement of an ancient god toying with mortals. Hazing, that's all this is. Phil hands Technoblade a business card. "Don't be late."

Techno scans the card, appreciating the flaming torch insignia etched into the bronze-inked paper. Ares, god of war... Chat hisses the allusion, seeming in awe of this man who has taken a god's symbol. Techno flips it over to find the address, and then raises an eyebrow at Phil. "What time?"

Philza picks up a stack of papers from the massive copy-printer and strides back to his desk. "Before evenfall."

Welp, that's that interaction over with. Technoblade notes how all the other office workers are studiously ignoring him. He turns to Tubbo. "Where's the boss?"

Tubbo puffs out his cheeks and crosses his arms, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Are you, are you going to complain to our manager, mister?"

"Yeah," Technoblade plays along. "I'm giving you a three star review."

"Oh, that's not bad."

"Out of ten."

Tubbo's visage darkens, and Techno gets an uneasy feeling like a hurricane is about to hit. The feeling passes, though, as Tubbo pouts. "I deserve more than that, man! Give me six stars, at least!"

"Tell ya what, if you show me where the regional manager's office is, I'll raise my review to seven stars."

"Done!" Tubbo cries, and points to an inconspicuous pair of doors on the other end of the room. "One leads to Manager Puffy, the other leads to Manager Schlatt. Choose wisely, good sir."

Techno hums approvingly, then draws out his pad of stickers from his coat pocket. Tubbo's eyes widen and he gasps, bouncing excitedly as Techno sticks a sparkly gold star to his forehead. "Good work, nerd."

Tubbo just stammers, plopping back into his chair with a blissful expression. Heh. Stickers work every time. Chat begs for stickers of their own, beg to be called nerds, beg for even a little taste of blood, but they don't deserve any rewards after being so bad all day.

Techno strides over to the managers' office doors. Each has a whiteboard on the front, with various scribbles over them. One has a fluffy sheep, and says in swirly script, //The captain is IN//. The other has various dicks doodled on it, and the only word written is, //Candice//. Chat breaks down in immature giggles. Technoblade opts for the former.

He knocks politely. A woman's voice replies, "Enter."

Opening the door, Technoblade scans the room. There's a full bookshelf covering one wall, and a low bureau across the opposite. A bay window sheds light across the manager's desk, tinted by the grey-green curtains.

A woman rises from her chair, her expression hidden by the sunlight behind her. Her waves of hair-- half brown and half silver-- sparkle with the dewdrop diamonds haphazardly woven in.

"District Manager Puffy?" Technoblade bobs his head to her.

"Call me Captain Puffy," Puffy replies, and her teeth glint in a wild smile as she tosses her head. "You're the new film crew Eret hired?"

"Uhh, apparently." Technoblade appreciates that she doesn't hold out her hand to greet him. "He never specified what kind of film he wanted, though, so-"

"Don't worry about that," Puffy tuts, "I'll give you instructions when you're settled in."

"K." Technoblade can respect this kind of person. Chat has been subdued and pouting for the past few minutes by his refusal to give them any sort of attention. He takes mercy on them and stares at the model ships on the bureau, letting them coo over the complexity and aesthetic.

"Uh, Mister Blade?" Puffy's voice intrudes on his appreciation of the ships.

"Just Techno is fine." Techno refuses to look away from the ships, since they're keeping chat happy for the moment.

"You'll be assigned a desk tomorrow, and you'll be given tasks around the office to, to acclimate and get to know your coworkers. Later, you can start filming random candid moments. We want a sort of documentary detailing our office lifestyle." Puffy hands a paper flyer to Techno.

Glancing through it, Techno frowns. "What exactly does Elysium sell?"

"We need a better PR team, which is why we've hired you. Elysium strives for the betterment of lives and the strengthening of minds." Puffy completely fails to answer the question. Chat calls her a sussy baahka, and Techno shoots a pointed glare at the bookshelves. He's definitely not giving chat any stickers tonight.

Puffy seems ready to dismiss him, so Techno bobs his head once more to her and opens the door. A strange noise, like the crashing of waves against a rocky shore, resonates through the air, halting him. Her eyes snap wide, glittering with something cold and unforgiving, yet somehow comforting and protective. "Pray to your god for mercy and it shall be given."

Technoblade chuckles, smothering the fire lit behind his eyes. "I'm kinda an atheist, Brizo; if there are any gods out there, they'll be begging me for mercy." He realizes too late that his extensive knowledge of the ancient Greek religion has escaped his tongue. Chat screams with excitement as they put together the allusions to the referenced spirit, Brizo, patron of sailors and prophecy. What a bunch of nerds.

Captain Puffy stares at him, her smile twinkling: sun rays piercing through storm clouds. "Of course, Hades."

Technoblade smiles back at the retort-- he's always been partial to the god of wealth-- and he bobs his head in deference to her once more. Any fellow partaker of old stories easily gets put in his good book. Puffy bows back, and Technoblade takes that as his cue to leave. He closes the door behind him.

Spotting the break room, Techno makes his way towards it, weaving through the desks. He pulls out his last, wrinkly dollar and slips it into the vending machine, then selects one of the bags of cookies. Sitting down with it, he inspects the coworker who's followed him in. "Tommy, right?"

The youth-- the sole employee in HR-- scowls, his ocean-blue eyes narrowing with scorn. "Who the fuck do you think you are, Technoblade??"

"Heh?" The teen's aggressive tone sets him on edge: hands itching and teeth aching and eyes burning for blood, blood, blood- no. No more of that. "Tommy, I just, I just got here? What are you upset at me for?"

"I'm just askin', Techno. Who do you think you are?" Tommy juts his chin out challengingly. "There can only be one boss man here."

"You wanna be the boss?" Technoblade rips open the bag of cookies.

"Well, obviously."

"Best me in single combat and we'll see." Technoblade is only jesting, of course. Even if the kid agreed to the fight, it would be unfair.

"Yes! Meet me in the parking lot in thirty minutes, idiot, and I'll fuckin' wipe the pavement with your ugly face!!" Tommy whoops and skips out of the break room before Techno can explain he was only joking.

Great. He's going to be fired for challenging a coworker to a fight, now. This will officially become the shortest job he's ever held, beating his last record by three hours. Technoblade munches his cookies and refuses to listen to chat as they bully him for making such a mess of his last chance.

When he's finished his cookies, Technoblade goes down to the parking lot, figuring that if he's going to be fired, he'd better do it in style.

Tommy waits for him, the breeze whipping through his blond hair. "No weapons, no magic, just me an' you, Technoblade."

"K." Technoblade shrugs, not seeing any point to telling the teen that magic doesn't actually exist. It was probably a sort of ironic joke, anyway.

Tubbo stands on the sidewalk, cheering for Tommy. Another teen leans on the wall behind Tubbo, seeming paler than should really be healthy, with a mop of black hair covering their ears.

"En garde!" Tommy cries and leaps to punch Techno.

Swaying to avoid the blow, Techno jabs Tommy in the gut with his knuckles. The youth staggers back, face distorted in pain. Technoblade remains relaxed, raising his hands. "Feel free to back out any time."

"Fuck you!" Tommy roars and charges, fists flailing. The picture of waves recklessly dashing themselves against an implacable cliff comes to mind.

Technoblade deflects the first fist and takes the wrist of the followup, twisting his arm behind his back. Tommy shrieks in rage and attempts to rip his arm away. Techno releases him and steps forward. "Sorry, but you ain't winnin' this."

"I will fucking end you!" Tommy once more flies into the fray.

Technoblade decides to go slightly harder on him. He sends Tommy stumbling with a single smack to his shoulder. When Tommy tries to flail fists at him again, Techno trips the boy. Tommy's back slams into the pavement, air whoofing out of his lungs.

"Y-you fuckin'-" Tommy wheezes for air. "I will not lose to you-"

"Looks like it's too late for that," Technoblade chuffs, watching the boy as he struggles to his feet.

Tommy sneers at him. "I, I'm feeling fuckin' merciful today. I won't kill you this time."

"I suppose I can return the favor." Technoblade smirks. He turns his back on Tommy to rub in how little of a threat the teen is. Not that Tommy will understand the gesture, but it boosts Techno's ego and makes chat jeer.

Tubbo and the other youth, a sales rep by the name of Ranboo, stride over. "That was sick!" Ranboo cries, eyes aflame with hero-worship as he stares at Technoblade.

Tubbo smiles implacably as he pulls Tommy to his feet. "Win next time, big guy. I lost five dollars to Ranboo on that."

"Fuck you, Ranboo," Tommy snarls, clinging to Tubbo's arm even as he's standing. "Bet on me, next time!"

"But you lost! I think that's pretty funny." Ranboo glances back up at the windows of the office. Several pairs of eyes seem to be peering down. Great. An audience to Technoblade's last few moments of employment.

Tommy grumbles as he storms to the doors, "I'll fucking beat you next time, Techno, see if I don't!"

The phrasing seems odd, in that it implies Technoblade isn't about to be fired for beating up his teenage coworker.

#long post #technoblade #dream smp #ao3 link #dream smp au #not rpf #2.4k words #fanfiction

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