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ohsomightypeaches · 1 year ago

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I'm late 😩😩😩😩

Joel is sleeping - which is not something that could be said until a couple of months ago.

🥹 look at my feral cat man ✨️resting✨️

He goads her with a smirk. ‘To be honest, it looks like you threw up in the pan.’

💀💀💀 joel no

‘Calcium,’ she shoots back without even looking up, too busy shoving the rest of her breakfast into her mouth, stuffing her cheeks like a chipmunk.

Ellie no 💀💀💀💀

He shakes his head, slowly finishing his breakfast - like he wishes he did that day.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

To his chagrin, Ellie admits freely that she lied about the time so they wouldn’t be late. He’s a punctual guy, thank you very much. He certainly doesn’t need to be schooled by the little brat.

LOL 🥺 its cute tho shes excited

She eyes Lucy cautiously, lips pinched to one side. ‘Where’s Pin?’

🤣 i will now dub her feral kitten. She doesnt gaf and i love that 😌

‘Don’t be, I was exactly like her when I was younger. Still am sometimes,’ she jokes. Then with a sly side eye, she remarks, ‘And honestly, you look more disappointed that I showed up than she does.’

LOL!!!

Joel hesitates for just a second, and Lucy bursts into laughter, elbowing him teasingly. ‘The way your face fell! I’m joking, Miller. Relax.’

LOL if you keep this up he might never come back

She shrugs. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’

Lucy LOL

‘She lives in the yellow cottage on the same street as the shoe shop. Keep going north, you can’t miss it,’ she says with a two-finger salute and a parting line that he’s heard before. ‘Say hi to Pin for me!’

Good looking out Lucy. I love how everyone knows.

He waves away your apology. ‘Count yourself lucky. She was just ‘bout bouncin’ off the walls.’

Aw my excited feral kitten 🥹

LOL I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE

He huffs, squinting up at you through the sun. ‘You’re hard to please, sweetheart.’

😌 good for her lol

He clearly mistakes your gawking for something else, flashing you an apologetic smile at his state. ‘Sorry, I work up a sweat real easy.’

👀 mmhmmmmm

Suddenly, you’re parched. But you don’t trust yourself to stay upright, let alone pour yourself a drink.

He wears the early summer tan so well, and for the first time since the outbreak, you think about the swim club in your old neighbourhood. Watching the water drip off his skin, it’s not a stretch to imagine this man pulling himself out of the pool after a quick dip to cool down, before stretching out on a sunlounger to dry in the sun - all in slow motion, set to the track of a corny sax riff.

What a description 👏👏👏👏👏👏

‘You basically got Ellie outta my hair every Saturday for the next few months, so I’ll have plenty of time to kill,’ he half-jokes.

OH I CAN HELP YOU KILL SOME TIME

Finally shedding that last bit of shyness holding you back, you retort with no real bite, ‘You’re such a tease, Miller.’

He knows what hes doing

‘You can shower here,’ you interrupt, stumbling over your words in your haste. ‘I have a spare shirt somewhere.’

👀 atta girl - okay but like since its during apocalypse SHOULD WE NOT CONSERVE WATER AND SHOWER PERHAPS ✨️TOGETHER✨️ dont mind me im parched too.

‘Never.’

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

He lets the word wash over him, appeasing the beast in him for now. With a slow nod, he takes three measured steps towards you, stopping just an arm’s length away. Gently coaxing you to let go of the purple tshirt, he snorts at the huge Lakers logo blazoned across the front.

lol not the lakers shirt making an appearance

Backed into a corner - and you’re not proud of it - you lie. Outrageously. ‘I don’t know how it got in there.'

SURE 😏 we believe you

Joel looks taken aback. ‘My belly?’

Lol i see that caught him off guard

You grin. ‘Yes, and your confidence. You walk differently now, you know.’

WE LOVE AND APPRECIATE THE TUMMY IN THIS HOUSE 🙏��🔥

His eyes dip downwards and slowly, over the curve of your breasts and the arch of your back. With an encouraging smile, he argues, ‘I’m not sure about that. Looks like your body’s reactin’ perfectly to me.’

🔥🔥 JOEL

His roguish grin has you squirming and fisting the sheets underneath you. ‘I dunno. Somethin’ tells me you like it.’

YES oop was that too enthusiastic? Let me try that again ✨️✨️YES✨️✨️

One day.

Oooooof the power of these two words.

He drapes a heavy arm over you and pulls back you flush into him. ‘Well, these jeans are fuckin’ ruined. I want a refund.’

💀💀

‘I’m afraid we don’t accept cum-stained returns. Store policy.’

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

This being Joel Miller in a purple tshirt with a tacky logo she doesn’t recognise printed on the front and khaki cargo shorts that cut off at the knees, holding a basket of vegetables that she’s pretty sure he doesn’t eat.

LOL!!!!! She even gave him veggies

Jogging to keep up, she cackles, ‘Hey, did you fall into a wormhole and went shopping at a farmer’s market in 1999?’

HAHAHAHAHAHAHHA

Across the street, unbeknownst to the pair, Tommy smiles to himself as he watches his big brother laugh, really laugh - the kind that has him doubling over and gasping for air through watery eyes. For the first time since the world ended, he looks up at the sky with a reassuring nod, and he knows deep down - Joel will be just fine.

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

I love this AU where Joel is actually living

IV ║ Notch

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part III: Edgestitch | Behind the Seams: Part IV | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E, but not that explicit

Summary: While Ellie works her first shift at the Outfitters, Joel drops by yours to return the blouse you left behind at the baby shower. Turns out, there's plenty around the house to keep him occupied until the teenager clocks off.

Warnings: Sexual tension, body insecurity, some language, inaccurate descriptions of gardening, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, undervest supremacy, flirting, dry humping, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!domestic!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 8.9k

Notes: Once I started writing this chapter in earnest, it came together a bit more quickly than I expected! It's extremely self-indulgent, with plenty of white undervest and belly action because you guys deserve all of that goodness for being the most patient, loving readers a writer could hope for 🥹 Thank you, I love you all! ❤️

Notch – diamond shaped marks that stick out beyond the edge of the pattern to line up all the pieces when sewing the garment. They come in pairs to be matched up.

Joel is sleeping - which is not something that could be said until a couple of months ago.

After the outbreak, sleep as a concept ceased to exist. What took its place is literal ‘shuteye’, either engineered by pills knocked back with moonshine, or a preventative shutdown by his body to avoid total failure, having pushed his physical form to the living limit.

It’s the kind of sleep that is destitute and provides no relief. It keeps the cogs turning just enough that he doesn’t expire, standing in his boots - which, on most days, are not the only things held together by duct tape.

But after the hospital, even that turned out to be too much to ask for. Some nights, the itch for chemical-induced relief got so bad that Joel entertained the thought of asking Tommy for illicit pills, ready to crawl on all fours to his brother’s house two streets down because he was shaking so hard he couldn’t lock his knees. But he didn’t trust him not to tell Maria, and with Ellie in the picture, he wasn’t about to tempt fate.

So instead, he asked Maria to assign him to night patrols. She hmmm’d at his request like she knew something he didn’t, but she humoured him, letting him take the graveyard shift for a couple of weeks straight. She didn’t have to tell him that she could see the way he tripped over his own feet and hear the slur in his voice. She’s too sharp not to notice.

But she didn’t say anything.

What she did do though, was not so subtly wean him off the late-night patrols. It started with a couple of random, last-minute changes, and then the next thing he knew, he was working morning shifts exclusively. When he tried covertly swapping stints with another guy, he showed up at the guard tower at midnight to find his sister-in-law standing in the doorway, arms crossed over her pregnant belly.

As he trudged home begrudgingly with his head down and her stern reprimand in his ears, he couldn’t help a chuckle. Gotta hand it to her.

Banished back to his bed, Joel went back to staring owlishly at the ceiling, watching the moonlight slide across the plaster until he knew all the cracks in it with his eyes closed (metaphorically). He’d listen to Ellie snoring away two doors down and marvel at the fact that she somehow still slept like the dead, even after… all that.

And then, one night, it happened for him too.

Admittedly, he ate a bit too much at Tommy and Maria’s - on top of running the town like a well-oiled machine, she makes a mean chicken fried steak - and Ellie had not so subtly plonked a second helping on his plate without asking. He was lying in bed, steeling himself for another long night, when his eyes drooped. The motion was so alien that it jolted him wide awake, but he couldn’t shake the weight that clung to the seams of his lashes. The next time he opened his eyes, it was morning.

Turns out you can teach an old dog new tricks.

It’s nowhere near consistent, and more often than not he wakes up in a cold sweat in the small hours, but in between, he’s sleeping. For once, he’s feeling rested. And it’s a nice fucking break from the relentless exhaustion that he’s convinced is fused into his bones.

He always wakes up earlier than Ellie though. She never stomps down the stairs until he’s already had breakfast, and hers has gone cold.

So on the Saturday morning following the baby shower, with his face plastered into the mattress, body curled around a pillow - old habits die hard - Joel nearly falls out of bed at the banging on his door.

‘Joel! Get the fuck up!’

For one disconcerting moment between sleep and wake, he’s in his bedroom back in Texas. He half expects to look up to see the posters on the wall and the perpetually overflowing laundry basket at the foot of his bed.

Blinking through the urge to close his eyes, the colours fade and he stares blearily at the digital clock on his bedside table.

7:30.

What the fuck? More often than not he has to drag the teenager out of bed by the ankles, kicking and swearing, at 7:50 to get to school at 8:00.

His knees groan as he staggers onto his feet, grabbing yesterday’s jeans from the floor and pulling them on. He finds a passably clean shirt about five deep on a chair, which he shrugs on over his white undervest. With a grunt, he yanks open the door and heads downstairs on bare feet, frowning at unfamiliar sounds coming from the kitchen.

Joel pauses in the doorway, hands on hips. ‘What do you think you’re doin’?’

Deeming his question unworthy of a response, Ellie tosses him a roll of her eyes over her shoulder and resolutely ignores him.

Shuffling closer, he asks, ‘Are you - cookin’?’

Brandishing the spatula at him, she snarls, ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’

He goads her with a smirk. ‘To be honest, it looks like you threw up in the pan.’

Ellie elbows him hard in the stomach. ‘Fuck you, man!’

He grins. There’s nothing like winding her up first thing in the morning. Grabbing the pan, he bins the ruined eggs, scraping off the burnt bits stuck to the bottom. ‘Crack some more eggs, I’ll make ‘em.’

Ten minutes later, in their usual seats at the kitchen table, they tuck into scrambled eggs and buttered toast.

‘Slow down,’ warns Joel as Ellie wolfs down hers. ‘You’re gonna choke.’

‘You hurry up! Can’t be late for my first day,’ she garbles through a mouthful of food.

‘Why can’t you be like this about school?’ he grumbles, then he winces as his teeth catch something crunchy. Picking it out, he gives her a pointed look. ‘Eggshell.’

‘Calcium,’ she shoots back without even looking up, too busy shoving the rest of her breakfast into her mouth, stuffing her cheeks like a chipmunk.

That one word stops Joel in his tracks and hurls him twenty years back in time.

But then Ellie is jumping up and practically throwing her empty plate into the sink, sneakers squeaking on the tiled floor as she dashes out of the kitchen. ‘C’mon, old man!’

Joel smiles, the memory warm like sun on his face.

He shakes his head, slowly finishing his breakfast - like he wishes he did that day.

They turn out to be fifteen minutes early.

To his chagrin, Ellie admits freely that she lied about the time so they wouldn’t be late. He’s a punctual guy, thank you very much. He certainly doesn’t need to be schooled by the little brat.

Joel sits on the stairs, while Ellie has her face squished up against the door, unabashedly leaving smudges on the glass panels as she keeps up an uninterrupted running commentary on every last piece of clothing she can see.

He tunes her out easily, shifting in his seat so that his right ear is to the door. In his hands is the blouse that you left behind at Tommy and Maria’s at the baby shower. He’s been meaning to return it to you, but the week got away from him, and there’s no time like the present.

Considering the state of his knees, he impresses himself with the speed at which he stands at the sound of footsteps on the otherwise quiet main street. Squaring his shoulders, he discreetly pulls on his shirt, suddenly seeing wrinkles everywhere in the fabric, and runs his fingers through his hair, wishing he’d taken another look in the mirror before he left the house -

But it’s Lucy who appears at the bottom of the stairs with her unfailingly sunny smile.

‘Hi, you must be Ellie,’ she chirps.

She eyes Lucy cautiously, lips pinched to one side. ‘Where’s Pin?’

Joel growls. ‘Manners.’

Ellie puts her hands up in surrender. ‘Sorry. I meant - nice to meet you, where’s Pin?’

Lucy beams good-naturedly and fiddles with the lock. ‘She’s off today, and it’s all my fault because I made her work three weekends in a row. You’ll be helping me in the front anyway, so I’ll show you the ropes.’ Stepping aside and swinging the door open, she prompts, ‘In you go now, hon.’

Ellie doesn’t even look back at him, rushing into the shop like a thoroughbred fresh out of the starting gates.

Pocketing the keys, Lucy smiles. ‘Hi Joel.’

‘Hey,’ he nods back. ‘Sorry about Ellie.’

He splutters, ‘Dunno what you’re talkin’ about.’

She smirks knowingly, gesturing at the blouse clutched tightly in his left fist. ‘I can pass that to Pin for ya.’

Joel hesitates for just a second, and Lucy bursts into laughter, elbowing him teasingly. ‘The way your face fell! I’m joking, Miller. Relax.’

He shakes his head. ‘It’s fine, guess I’ll give it to her next time she’s ‘round.’

Just then, from the depths of the shop, Ellie gasps dramatically and yells at the top of her lungs, ‘I want thissssssss one!’

Meeting Lucy’s eyes, Joel asks, ‘Sure you gonna be ok left alone with her?’

She shrugs. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’

He flashes her a thumbs up. ‘I’ll pick her up at three then.’

He’s about to walk away from the Outfitters when Lucy’s voice stops him. ‘Hey, Joel!’

Looking up at the wraparound porch, he raises an eyebrow in a silent question.

You’ve always had a soft spot for the turn of the season, when late spring blooms graciously give way to summer buds. The grass smells greener, and the air is pregnant with pollen and nectar. It’s not overly warm yet, but you can feel the intensity in the sunlight, muted only by the early hour. Good thing you’re starting early.

It’s unseasonably warm for June, and the vegetable patch on the far end of your garden has suddenly burst into life. The cauliflower has finally come through after two failed crops in a row, and both the tomato vines and pepper plants are thriving. Closer to the ground, the onion and garlic shoots are patiently waiting to be pulled, and asparagus shoots spear through the earth in tidy lines one after another.

Pulling on a hat and gloves, you get to work.

You’re halfway through the second row of onions when there’s a faint knock on the front door. Even though you’ve only been in the sun for a little while, the coolness inside the house feels like a balm to your skin as you pad inside, peeling off your gloves before reaching for the door.

Swinging it open, you’re stumped by the sight of Joel Miller on your doorstep.

You haven’t seen him since the party, where you’d agreed on a start date and time for Ellie’s first shift, and -

Since the kiss.

You’ve felt his absence keenly. You’ve caught yourself loitering on street corners, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, knowing you’ll be able to spot him just by the way his shoulders swing with his long strides. You’ve kept an ear out for the southern lilt that has chased goosebumps across your skin, or any mention of his name, but all in vain.

Jackson has a habit of growing in size, usually in direct proportion to one’s desperation.

Now that he’s somehow here, you’re aware you’re gaping at him, so broad that his shoulders are blocking out the daylight. Too many years out of practice to count, you have no idea what the protocol is when you next see the man who literally made your knees buckle with just his lips and nothing else.

‘Mornin’, he finally says with a small smile.

You stammer. ‘H-hello. What, um, I mean, how -’

‘I dropped off Ellie at the shop and Lucy told me where you live,’ he explains, shaking out the blouse in his hands. ‘Thought I’d come ‘round and return this.’

Your palm twitches with the urge to smack yourself on the forehead. Of course that’s why he’s here.

Taking the top from him, you smile back gratefully. ‘Thank you. And of course, it’s Ellie’s first day. I’m sorry I can’t be there, but I’ve been subbing for Lucy on the weekends for a month straight and I needed a break.’

He waves away your apology. ‘Count yourself lucky. She was just ‘bout bouncin’ off the walls.’

‘Bless her heart,’ you chuckle, breaking off when his eyes flicker over you, as if he’s just registered your very minimalist ensemble of a white cotton tank top and denim cut-offs. Your skin prickles under his scrutiny, flattery winning out against self-consciousness at the deliberate drag of his gaze over you, a thoughtful weight behind it.

That is until something catches his attention, and you flinch when he peers under the brim of your hat. ‘What -’

Before you can even articulate your question, he’s taken one step towards you, his work boots heavy on your creaky wooden porch. His voice is low but rough around the edges, just the way you like it.

‘You got some dirt -’ he swipes his index finger firmly on the end of your nose. ‘Right here.’

Your jaw hangs open, then clamps shut, in quick succession, the shell of your ears burning hot at his fleeting touch. Throat suddenly dry, you barely manage to squeak, ‘Thanks.’

One day, you will at least try and keep your cool around this man. But alas, it is not this day.

Rearranging himself, Joel leans on the doorframe with his arms crossed and remarks conversationally, ‘You look outdoorsy this mornin’.’

Flashing the soil-stained gloves at him, you try to keep your voice steady. ‘I’m just doing some gardening out back. The vegetable patch needs harvesting.’

He purses his lips at that. ‘Didn’t peg you as the gardenin’ type.’

You don’t know where the bravado comes from, but you swat him on the arm with the gloves and quip, ‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me.’

‘You got me there,’ he huffs a laugh and gestures towards the back of the house. ‘Anythin’ I can do to help?’

The refusal is on the tip of your tongue. You don’t say yes to a whole lot nowadays, other than when Lucy makes you. But then you hear yourself ask, a challenge in your voice that you didn’t know you had. ‘I don’t know. Are you any good with your hands, Joel Miller?’

At the boldness in your words, which you don’t take back, Joel’s eyebrows reach for his hairline. Biting your lip but standing your ground, you watch him grind his jaw as he considers his response.

‘Why don’t you try me, sweetheart?’

‘Like this?’

‘Wait - slow down.’

A shuffle of hands. ‘How about now?’

‘That’s it. Yes, that’s good. Keep going.’

A raspy grunt. ‘I think I’m almost there.’

‘Yeah, that’s right, don’t stop -’

‘Alright, you ready?’

‘Come on, Joel -’

With one last flick, the knife slices clean through the base of the stalk, and Joel plucks the cauliflower head out of its leafy cradle with a triumphant grin.

‘How’s that for good hands, huh?’ he crows.

‘I’ll get back to you in the fall when we see if the cauliflower grows back,’ you tease.

He huffs, squinting up at you through the sun. ‘You’re hard to please, sweetheart.’

You preen at the playful turn of the conversation. If you were a little braver, you’d give him a mischievous wink - but for now, you gesture at the patch. ‘Can you handle the rest? I’ll get started on the peppers.’

He nods. ‘Leave ‘em with me.’

The pepper plants are having a great season, standing at four feet tall and heaving with fruits. You’ve left them alone on the vine for the last three weeks to sweeten, and they have dutifully ripened into a beautiful red. Settling onto your knees, you methodologically comb through the peppers from top to bottom, cutting off each one by the stalks.

It’s a big harvest, half of which you plan on giving away to your neighbours in exchange for their berries and lemons. Some you will cook. Lucy is due to come over for dinner, and she loves your stuffed pepper recipe. The rest you’ll have to find time to roast, skin, deseed and preserve in oil, which will last the rest of the year -

A shadow falls over you, stilling your hands and drawing your eyes upwards.

The sight is familiar - feet planted shoulder-wide by your knees, chin tucked in as he stares down at you, your nose level with the front of the jeans that you picked out for him - you’ve seen it all before, except for one small detail.

Joel is sweating. A lot.

His thin plaid shirt - you’re not sure if you’ve seen him in anything else yet - is sticking to him like a second skin, clinging to the solid outline of his biceps as he holds onto the basket full of cauliflower heads. The sunlight glances off the perspiration dotting his hairline, and the wispy grays that normally curl away from his face have wilted in the humidity.

There’s a flush under his skin as he swipes at his forehead with his shirt sleeve, and your gaze follows a bead of sweat dripping down the prominent vein on the side of his neck, and into the deep V of his shirt - wait, is that the outline of an undervest that you can just make out underneath -

‘Should I take the cauliflower in?’

‘Um -’ you stammer to a halt, eyes still plastered to the front of his chest, just like his shirt.

He clearly mistakes your gawking for something else, flashing you an apologetic smile at his state. ‘Sorry, I work up a sweat real easy.’

Oh, come on. Now all you’re thinking about is how else he works up a sweat -

Seized by the sudden need to get out of the heat in more than one sense of the word, you rip the basket from his grasp and turn on your heels to sprint into the house with a choked, ‘I’ll be right back!’

You nearly trip over your own feet running into the kitchen, your heart thumping so loudly in its ribcage it feels like the whole house is shaking to the beat.

And all that man has done is sweat in front of you.

‘Pull yourself together, Pin,’ you mutter to yourself as you tip the cauliflower heads onto the kitchen table. Grabbing a jug from the cupboard, you put it in the sink and turn on the faucet. Watching the trickle of water, you make yourself take three deep breaths.

Joel’s kind enough to do you a favour, you could at least have the courtesy to not perv on him while he helps you out.

Nodding determinedly to yourself, you pluck two glasses from the drying rack, putting them inside the empty basket that you hook on your elbow, and march back outside -

Only to almost swallow your tongue and drop the full jug of water right at your feet.

Joel’s sweat-soaked shirt is now hanging on your washing line like a white flag, having surrendered to the heat. And just like that, the very image that has been inconveniently seared into the back of your eyes since the party is suddenly before you in all its glory, in the morning sun, out in the open air.

The white undervest stretches over the breadth of him, and if he didn’t look so good in it, you would’ve laughed at the comical way the flimsy straps are clinging onto his shoulders for dear life. Then he bends over to inspect the tomato vines, the bottom of his vest riding up with the movement, teasing a flash of skin above the waistline of the jeans pulled tight over his behind. One big hand reaches out, the outline of his arm flexing as he does, and he palms the bottom of one tomato, testing if it’s ripe for the picking.

Except in your head, it’s something else he’s cupping with such rapturous attention.

He doesn’t notice you until he stands up with a low grunt of effort. Pointing an apologetic finger at his shirt, he says, ‘I hope you don’t mind, I’m sweatin’ right through it like nobody’s business.’

You make a noise in your throat that you pass off as an answer, and with shaky hands, pour him a full glass of water which you shove in his direction.

‘Appreciate it, sweetheart.’ He salutes you and takes a long drag, tipping his head back. You watch, transfixed, as the sunlight bounces off the lines of sweat criss-crossing down the strong column of his neck, and the hard bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.

Suddenly, you’re parched. But you don’t trust yourself to stay upright, let alone pour yourself a drink.

‘It’s hot today,’ Joel breaks the loaded silence, though it’s possible that it’s unilaterally so on your side.

‘Uh-huh,’ you croak, still holding onto the water jug like a shield.

He peers at you with a touch of mischief. ‘You ain’t gonna swoon or anythin’ are you?’

Probably. And definitely not for the reason he has in mind.

You attempt a weak smile that may have come off as a grimace. ‘I’ll try not to.’

Reassured, he nods towards the garlic patch. ‘C’mon. Let’s get our hands dirty, sweetheart.’

By the time the vegetable patch has been thoroughly picked and the baskets crammed full, the sun is high in the sky, the morning clouds burned off with the heat.

Joel isn’t the only one who’s sweating through his clothes - your light cotton top is now clinging uncomfortably to your skin, sweat dripping down your sternum and dampening the cups of your bra. You heave a sigh of relief when he helps you move the haul to a shaded corner near the porch where you have an outdoor sink and wheel hose installed.

Emptying the root vegetables into the sink, Joel steps back and casts a critical eye over the rain gutters that line the eaves of your house. Fingers spread over one jutting hip, he leans his weight on his right leg, the stance creating all kinds of angles that are completely unnecessary in this kind of heat.

He points at the leaves and branches that are clearly sticking out from the channels, but you’re only really interested in studying his large hands. The bumps and veins on the back of them, the watch with the broken face on his left wrist, the dirt coating his thick fingers, pushed under tidily trimmed nails. The logical thought that follows is how he would leave dark streaks on your white top when he pulls you in by the waist -

‘Looks like the gutters need cleanin’,’ Joel declares.

Well, the gutter your head is currently dunked in can certainly do with a good scrub.

‘Rainy season doesn’t start for another few months, they can wait.’

He uh-uh's sternly. ‘I’ve heard that before. Do you have a ladder?’

‘You really don’t have to -’ you protest, but he won’t hear it.

‘It’s no big deal, I’m sweaty anyway,’ he replies. ‘Besides, you’ll be doing me a favour keepin’ me occupied. I don’t pick Ellie up till three.’

You bite your lip. ‘But I feel bad working you so hard.’

Without skipping a beat, he winks. ‘Don’t worry your pretty head, sweetheart - I like workin’ for it.’

Jesus Christ. This man needs to be locked up and the key thrown to a colony of clickers.

The inner contractor in Joel comes out to play as he climbs deftly up the extension ladder propped up against the eaves, gloves on and a tarp bag tied to the top rung for collecting the debris. Discreetly, you shuffle around the freestanding sink so that you have a clear view of him as you turn on the water and start washing the dirt off the onions.

He’s starting close by, just a couple of feet away from you, patiently scooping out the dead leaves and twigs by the handful. Up on the ladder with his side to you, you’re eye level with the swell of his belly, which stretches the seams of the vest, and the underside of it peeks out every time he reaches up for the gutters. Your cheeks warm with the memory of how the soft folds felt against you, so warm and solid that you ache to reach out, push the flimsy vest up and nuzzle the tender skin with your nose -

It takes you a couple of minutes to realise that you’re not even pretending to be washing the onions anymore, the hose running in your idle grasp as you stare, head cocked to one side.

You don’t hear him when he turns to you. ‘Can pass me the hose?’

You stare dumbly back at him. ‘Huh?’

‘The hose, Pin,’ he repeats, a playful condescension in his smirk, like he knows exactly what you’ve been looking at. ‘That onion looks sparkly clean.’

You’re not sure what happened. One second you’re holding onto the hose with the intention of turning off the water before passing it to Joel, but your brain skips that crucial first step, and the next thing you know, you’re pointing it straight at him, spraying him in water from face to chest.

As he splutters, you shove the hose into the sink and screech, mortified. ‘Oh my god! I’m so sorry!’

You watch in horror as the water trickles from his hair, down his stubbled chin and onto his chest - okay, that’s a lie. It’s definitely not horror that’s twisting in your tummy and then much, much lower between your thighs.

And if you thought this man looked good sweaty, well - you’ve seen nothing yet.

He might as well put you out of your misery and take off his undervest right about now. It’s completely see-through, pebbled nipples and the firm ridges of his pecs showing through the wet fabric, rounded out by the endearing soft pouch of his belly.

‘I’m sorry,’ you say on reflex, but the apology rings hollow with the way your gaze lingers over his chest, and he notices.

He chuckles, carding one hand through his wet hair to slick it back, standing taller under your eyes. ‘As I said - never a dull moment with you, sweetheart.’

Joel takes his time, clearing out all the blockages and hosing the gutters clean so that you don’t have to worry about them for another six months. He dumps the leaves and sticks in the compost post, rinses the soiled gloves and his hands clean, before taking his shirt off the washing line and heading into the blessed shade.

He finds you in the kitchen, back to the door, putting away clean plates and cutlery from the drying rack, porcelain knocking together and metal clanging.

This is the most he’s seen of you, in a tank top and shorts, bathed in light spilling in from the large windows that open out into the backyard. He sees touches of your workshop right here in the kitchen - dried herbs and seasoning in mismatched but tidy boxes on the shelves, knives organised by size on a magnetic knife block, plates and bowls arranged in neat stacks behind glass cabinets.

Not wanting to alarm you, he deliberately scrapes his shoe on the tiled floor to make his presence known.

Whipping around - and just a touch startled - you smile with a quiet hey, and Joel’s not sure if he’ll ever get over how the sweet shyness still clings to the curve of your lips despite the fact that he’s kissed you right there.

He stays by the door for now and says, ‘I put the ladder back, and the gutters are all done, but I spotted some shingles missing on the roof while I was up there. I’ll come back to fix ‘em some other time.’

‘Thank you so much Joel, but really, don’t worry about the roof. You’ve done enough.’

‘You basically got Ellie outta my hair every Saturday for the next few months, so I’ll have plenty of time to kill,’ he half-jokes.

A comfortable lull sets in, and he looks up at the ticking clock, surprised that it’s almost noon. Shifting his feet, he opens his mouth and is about to excuse himself when you blurt out, ‘I’m sorry I soaked you.’

The jury's out on who's more taken aback by your phrasing. Exasperated, you groan, ‘I did not mean to say that.’

Joel’s kept a respectful distance since he arrived at the house, the pliant weight of you in his arms and your taste on his tongue kept firmly at bay in the back of his mind, not wanting to bring up anything that would make you uncomfortable in the light of day. But now, he pushes himself off the threshold of the door and crosses the cosy kitchen, pleased that you stay put when he plants himself in front of you, toe to toe.

Brushing a finger under your chin so that you’re staring up at him, he deliberately pitches his voice low and gruff, the double entendre almost crude in its delivery. ‘Just so we’re clear, you can soak me any time, sweetheart, in any way you want.’

Your lips part and your gaze darkens, and he feels his body instinctively react, invisible threads reeling him bodily into you. When you speak, your voice quivers, his name at once a single-worded reprimand and a needy whine that takes him right back to his brother’s spare bedroom. ‘Joel -’

‘Yes, Pin?’ he baits you playfully, just like he did that night, taking one last step so that you’re crowded against the countertop, bookending you with his palms planted on the wooden surface.

Finally shedding that last bit of shyness holding you back, you retort with no real bite, ‘You’re such a tease, Miller.’

‘Don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it,’ he quips easily, his attention on your mouth. He hears your shaky intake of air, the whole moment suspended on tenterhooks as you skirt each other on the brink -

Just then, a breeze drifts in from the open window above the sink, providing instant relief from the humidity that hangs heavy in the air. All of a sudden, he’s acutely aware of the fact that he’s sweaty all over, so much so that he might actually smell.

Self-conscious, he clears his throat and murmurs ‘I should probably go, I need a shower and a change of clothes -’

‘You can shower here,’ you interrupt, stumbling over your words in your haste. ‘I have a spare shirt somewhere.’

You don’t need to ask him twice.

He smiles. ‘Sounds good, sweetheart.’

Your ensuite bathroom, like what he has seen of your house, is clean and organised. There’s a neat stockpile of soap bars in the cupboard, and he spots the familiar bottles of regulation shampoo and toothpaste that the town mass produces.

The water is plenty hot as he efficiently lathers himself top to bottom and front to back, but the pressure is a bit weak for his liking and can be easily fixed. Something else to add to the list.

The towel you left on the rack is soft and smells like the sun. Patting himself dry and rubbing it through his hair, he wipes away the condensation off the mirror above the sink. He peers at his reflection, ruminating that it’s time for a shave, and pushes back his wet hair so the strands don’t get in his eyes.

Out of his clothes, only his jeans are passably dry, so he forgoes his boxers and pulls them on, carefully doing up the zipper. Using his shirt as a sling, he bundles up all the dirty clothes and opens the bathroom door.

He catches you coming into the bedroom as he steps out, and your jaw drops at the sight of him in just his jeans before you slap your palms dramatically over your eyes, the tshirt you’re holding onto covering your whole face and muffling your voice. ‘I’m so sorry! I should’ve knocked!’

Joel chuckles at your reaction. ‘Sweetheart, it's your house. And I’m not exactly naked.’

Lowering your hands sheepishly, you still clutch the tshirt to your chest like a security blanket, admitting, ‘Sorry, I just - I just realised I’ve never had a man in here before.’

Something wraps itself around his stomach and pulls, and it takes him a beat to put a name to it because it’s been so long. It’s possessiveness that rushes through his veins and goes straight to his head, and he has to bite the inside of his mouth to keep his voice from wavering. He demands, ‘Never?’

‘Never.’

He quips, ‘I’m more of a Longhorns fan myself, actually.’

The tension cracks, and you grin back, ‘Well, not anymore.’

After your confession, it’s probably redundant, but he wants to hear you say it. Flashing the tshirt at you, he asks, ‘Old boyfriend’s?’

It’s the most personal question that’s been exchanged between you so far by a mile, and it’s probably none of his business, but you can’t explain why your pulse spikes at the way his normally warm gaze hardens with something unfamiliar.

‘No,’ you answer. ‘I keep some of the stock here when there’s not enough room at the shop, that’s all.’

Joel rasps, ‘Good.’

With that one syllable, his shoulders visibly relax, suddenly drawing your attention to his topless form, which you’ve been too mortified to actually look at. It’s a lot to take in, and even though you’ve seen most of him already, there is one conspicuous part that you haven’t yet -

But before your eyes can trail that low, Joel turns. ‘Thanks, I appreciate it. I’ll just -’

You’re slow to catch onto why he trails off in the middle of the sentence, still far too distracted by his general state of undress to notice until he’s already made his way to the top of your neatly made bed. And then you see it…

The flannel peeking out from underneath the duvet.

Oh. Fuck.

With an almost flippant flick of his wrist, Joel peels back the corner of the bedspread. Wordlessly, he stares down at the red plaid shirt he lent you at the baby shower, tucked snugly in your bed, buried half under your pillow.

He stares at it for so long that you interrupt the silence for once.

‘I’ve been meaning to return it,’ you squeak, hands flailing awkwardly, desperately wanting something to hold onto. ‘I just - forgot.’

Joel half-turns to you, arching an eyebrow. ‘You’ve been keepin’ it in your bed?’

Backed into a corner - and you’re not proud of it - you lie. Outrageously. ‘I don’t know how it got in there.'

He picks up the shirt by the collar. It’s wrinkled all over and obviously worn in. He smirks, ‘I’m not so sure about that.’

You’re this close to swivelling around and making a break for it, but as soon as your axis of balance tilts backwards, Joel grabs you by the wrist and pulls you in, hauling you firmly into his bare chest.

‘You’ve been wearin’ it to sleep, haven’t you?’ he asks in a tone that brooks no argument.

Your fingers curl into his chest, his skin blazing warm under your palms. There’s no point fibbing anymore, and you admit, ‘Yes.’

His voice is hoarse when he asks, ‘You wear anythin’ underneath it, sweetheart?’

You hold your breath for one long moment, the tension in the room swelling so quickly that your ears pop. Eventually, under his patient yet heated stare, you shake your head, lips sealed.

His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare, and you feel his grip on your hips tighten.

‘No bra?’ he prompts.

‘No bra,’ you parrot back.

His jaw clenches so tightly that you’re surprised he manages to articulate his next question. ‘No panties?’

‘No panties -’

You barely get the word out before Joel is kissing you, pushing the syllables right back into your mouth until you swallow them with a whimper.

And then he’s pulling back, growling against yours, ‘And what do you do naked in my shirt, hmm?’

You stutter, ‘I - I think about you -’

An undignified squeal escapes you when he suddenly spins you around, your back hitting the bed, denying you the chance to catch your breath. The ceiling fan turns directly above you, but it does nothing to quell the heat between your bodies as Joel clambers over you on his hands and knees, sliding his mouth over yours again in a hard kiss.

You always thought your bed was a decent size, but now, with the bulk of this man hovering over you, you’re not so sure anymore. His ridiculously wide shoulders fill your entire field of vision, and even though he’s holding himself up with his forearms by your ears, you can almost feel the full weight of him through sheer anticipation of his touch.

His heated words brush by your ear, making you shudder. ‘Tell me what you think about, sweetheart.’

‘Your arms, your shoulders -’ you hesitate, dropping your voice shyly. ‘Your belly.’

Joel looks taken aback. ‘My belly?’

You duck your head almost guiltily. ‘Yes.’

His brows draw together in an endearingly confused frown. ‘Why?’

‘That time in the workshop, when we met, you were sucking it in so hard you could hardly breathe - but you don’t anymore.’

The dots connect, and his lips part in an oh. ‘I didn’t even realise.’

‘I know. That’s why it’s sexy,’ you point out.

He looks at you incredulously, as if you’ve lost your mind. ‘My belly is sexy?’

You grin. ‘Yes, and your confidence. You walk differently now, you know.’

He makes a noise at the back of his throat, a self-satisfied smirk tilting his lips upwards. ‘You been watchin’ me?’

‘Maybe,’ you tease.

You exhale long and heavy through your nose when he sucks delicately on your bottom lip, opening you up so that he can dip inside, stealing a taste of your tongue with his.

‘Been thinkin’ about you all week, sweetheart,’ he whispers, trailing fire across your cheek and the hollow behind your ear.

‘I haven’t seen you around at all,’ you whine, tipping your head back as he nudges the tip of his proud nose down your throat.

‘I know, it took three fuckin’ days to clean up after the party,’ he complains, his disgruntled tone prompting a giggle from you. ‘Never again.’

‘I’m not so sure about that. There will be plenty of birthday parties to look forward to, Uncle Joel -’

An open-mouthed kiss on the side of your neck catches you off guard, the unfamiliar texture of the wet suction and scrape of his teeth jolts you clean off the mattress, sending you body slamming into his ribcage.

Joel hums, pleased at your reaction. ‘So sensitive. I’ve barely touched you yet, sweetheart.’

It’s immediate, the shame that burns under your skin at his remark despite knowing he doesn’t mean anything by it, and Joel frowns at the way you stiffen under him. Regret colours his words as he cups your cheek. ‘Pin, I’m sorry, that came out wrong -’

‘No, that’s the thing. You’re not wrong,’ you interrupt with a shake of your head. There’s no point denying it - you’re a grown woman, and there’s something fundamentally embarrassing about losing touch with that part of yourself over the years. ‘I - it’s been so long, I don’t even know my own body anymore.’

Your lips twitch despite yourself. ‘You’re just saying that to get into my pants.’

He takes the unexpected turn in the conversation in stride and runs with it. ‘Trust me, sweetheart, if I were tryin’, I’d already be in them.’

‘You’re such an ass, Joel Miller.’

His roguish grin has you squirming and fisting the sheets underneath you. ‘I dunno. Somethin’ tells me you like it.’

Wrapping one palm on the back of his neck, you drag him into you again, relishing in the weight of him as he pins you to the bed with the broad frame of his shoulders. He moans into your mouth, claiming it with deep strokes of his tongue, while his calloused palms sneak under the hem of your shirt and pull you into him by the small of your back.

Even as your hips buck, begging for friction, Joel holds back, propping himself up on his knees to keep a tenuous grip on his self-control. Pulling back from your lips with a wet pop, he assures you through heavy breaths, ‘We can stop any time, sweetheart. Just say the word.’

Your response comes fast and sure, but he can read the hesitance between the lines, ‘I - I don’t want to stop.’

He presses a patient kiss to your lips, but backs away before you can deepen it. ‘How about this - we’ll flip you over so that you’re on top, and you decide what you want to do. Is that ok?’

You pause to consider his proposal, sliding your tongue over your bottom lip - he’s this close to kissing you right there and then. You ask shyly, ‘And it’s ok if we - you know, just make out?’

He smiles. ‘I can do with some good old-fashioned neckin’.’

‘Ok then -’

You yelp when Joel turns you over without warning, the sudden movement making your head spin. Sitting up against the headboard, he drags you in his lap and asks, ‘Alright?’

You nod with a nervous smile. It’s intimidating, being so close to him that there’s nowhere else to look but into his thoughtful eyes that are watching you for any signs of discomfort. Catching your breath, you settle into the moment and realise that you’re straddling him, hands clinging onto his shoulders, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. His belly is warm and soft where he’s pressed up against you, but lower, nudging insistently between your legs -

Joel is hard.

The revelation robs you of air, want and need rushing like blood to your head, and you stiffen, not knowing what to do.

Joel catches on - you’re beginning to think that nothing ever escapes him - and he reminds you, ‘Just kissin’, ok, sweetheart?’

Snapping out of your freeze frame, you nod, ‘Yes. Ok.’

Giving you somewhere to start, he prompts, ‘Where do you want my hands?’

Tugging on his wrists, you watch his jaw go slack when you place his palms squarely on your ass, where your denim shorts hardly cover the top of your thighs. He lets out a lewd moan at the way your soft curves fill his hands, fingers squeezing and kneading greedily, and you push your hips back into his contact.

‘Not so shy after all, hmm?’ he rasps.

You preen at his praise, and riding the wave of boldness, you tip forward and press your lips to Joel’s before you could overthink it. Over the roar of blood in your ears, you hear him suck in a shaky breath, and you feel the deep groan in his throat taper into a whimper when you swipe your tongue into his mouth.

You’re completely unprepared for the power the sound unleashes in you.

Somewhere in your consciousness, a door is cracked open, and memory crackles at the edges of your mind. Each shuddered breath shared, every slide of skin on skin, brings to the surface what you thought you’d forgotten.

Your fingers burrow into the still wet locks at his nape, earning a loud moan from Joel when you pull on the grays that have distracted you on more than one occasion. He nips his way sloppily down your neck, trailing spit and beard burn as he goes, while your palms skate over his chest and down, down, down until your fingernails drag over the pliant folds of his tummy, hanging over the waistband of his jeans.

‘Sweetheart,’ he groans brokenly at the contact, forehead knocking into yours.

Spreading your fingers over soft flesh, you choke on an inhale when he bodily rocks into your palms. Your thumb catches the hollow of his belly button, fingers tenderly squeezing the creases and dimples of his belly. His eyes crack open under tightly knitted eyebrows, vulnerability etched in every line on his face.

Something shifts - something that neither of you can take back. And suddenly, it’s not just kissing anymore.

Caught somewhere between writhing instinctively under his touch and a deliberate pursuit of friction, your hips find a rhythm that has the seat of your panties quickly twisting and dampening as you grind on the erection straining against the zipper of his jeans.

Blunt nails bite into your thighs as Joel growls, ‘Shit, sweetheart. That’s it.’

You want to bury your face in his neck, feeling too wanton in the way you’re panting in needy whimpers, but he preempts that on no uncertain terms. ‘I want to see everythin’. Look at me.’

You do just that - you can’t deny this man even if you tried - watching him watch you with his pupils blown wide and wild, wetting his bottom lip the same time his eyes drop to your tits, as if he can see right through the thin fabric. He doesn’t touch you anywhere else though, his hands staying where you put them. You can feel his grip dig harder and harder into the swell of your ass, but he doesn’t try to change your rhythm, giving you free rein to ride him any way you need.

When your peripheral vision starts to go, you know it’s not a coincidence that your thoroughly soaked panties shift and strain against your clit, pinching it just so that you cry out, hips faltering.

Joel bares his teeth, and you feel his hips rut upwards into you, his restraint slipping. ‘There you go. You’re close, aren’t you?’

You can only nod, frantically grinding into him now, your whole mind narrowing until the only thought that remains is chasing that high that you can almost taste. Everything swells, electricity fills the air, his name a sacred chant on your tongue as you claw at his back, teetering precariously on the brink of something that promises to devastate you.

‘Joel, Joel, Joel -’

He catches you when you break - you fling yourself at him, knocking into him so hard that the back of his head hits the wall, but he doesn’t even flinch. Tucked safely into the crook of his neck, you whine and wail as you thrash in his hold, and his nostrils flare at your scent. He can smell you, he can smell the slick leaking from your pussy, humid and heady in the air between you, making his mouth water as he aches to taste you - all of you.

One day.

Right now, the hinge of his jaw almost cracks as you milk the last remnants of your orgasm with a needy swivel of your hips, rubbing against his cock at an angle that makes his vision swim, and he knows he’s too far gone. His control slips like shifting sands, and a primal instinct takes over as he bucks roughly into you, fingertips leaving imprints in your skin that you will feel for days after.

‘Oh fuck, sweetheart, wait, I’m - shit, I’m gonna -’

When it hits him, it’s fucking relentless - he cums and cums until his voice goes hoarse with your name, until it feels like his abdomen would cave in and collapse, spurting and spilling until it feels like he’s turned inside out. It goes everywhere, thick, milky strands filling the gaps in his jeans and sliding down his legs in a sticky mess, and he slumps bonelessly into the headboard, panting against your lips as he catches his breath.

Sweetly, gently, he tilts his chin up just enough to kiss you, his nose nudging your cheek intimately when he pulls away, his lungs too deprived of air to keep going. He winces when you shift above him, knowing that you can feel the wet spot pooling under your bare thighs.

Joel breaks the sluggish silence first, cracking a grin. ‘So much for just makin’ out.’

You clumsily climb off his lap and crash land sideways onto the mattress. ‘Is that a complaint, Joel Miller?’

He drapes a heavy arm over you and pulls back you flush into him. ‘Well, these jeans are fuckin’ ruined. I want a refund.’

‘I’m afraid we don’t accept cum-stained returns. Store policy.’

He pffts. ‘Damnit. Should’ve read the fine print.’

You grin. ‘Well, at least there's something deeply poetic about cumming in the jeans that I picked out for you.’

‘Touché, sweetheart,’ he grunts and presses a kiss to your forehead. Glancing down at the unmistakable wet patch on the denim, he asks hopefully, ‘Any chance you got some pants I can borrow?’

Ellie bounces her leg irritably, hunched over on the stairs exactly where Joel was sitting this morning. Where the fuck is he? He’s twenty minutes late, and he had the nerve to get all huffy when she lied about the start time today. Unbelievable.

Moodily looking left and right, there’s still no sign of him. She’s about to give up and wait for him at home when something conspicuously purple comes to a stop in front of her.

Her jaw hits the floor.

‘Oh. My. God.’

She’s never been high before, but she’s pretty sure this is the stuff hallucinations are made of.

With a roll of his eyes, he snaps, ‘Shut your mouth, you’re trappin’ flies.’

Pasting on the most obnoxious grin she can muster, Ellie croons, ‘Man, don’t you look pretty.’

Turning on his heel, Joel starts walking without looking back. ‘Shut up.’

Jogging to keep up, she cackles, ‘Hey, did you fall into a wormhole and went shopping at a farmer’s market in 1999?’

‘Shut up.’

‘You really should wear shorts more often, y’know, show off those knees. And purple really is your colour, Barney!’

Joel frowns, shooting her a sidelong glare. ‘How the hell do you know who Barney is?’

Ellie shrugs. ‘What do you think they teach us at school?’

He’s the one who starts it. The quake in his shoulders would have been imperceptible to anyone else, but nowadays, there’s not much that he can hide from her. As usual, she giggles first, which trails into a squeal when Joel gives her a shove on the back, sending her stumbling over her shoes.

‘Fuck you, man!’ she snickers and basically rugby tackles him, but he barely budges, lips pulling back into a toothy grin.

Notes: You guys continue to blow me away with your support - I cannot be more grateful for all the reblogs, asks and interaction with my silly Behind the Seams posts and random updates. Thank you so so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I can't wait to hear what you think ❤️

I will be having a think over the next few weeks about where Seams will go from here. This chapter wraps up the first mini story arc, and I'll be dedicating August to wrapping up my Palomino series, so it will give me some time and distance to mull over what's next for Joel and Pin. I'm also a few followers away from a big milestone, so I might have something fun planned! 🥰

#look at my feral cat man being domesticated slowly but surely 🥹#fuckyeahseams #seams iv #series: seams #joel miller x reader #joel miller

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bubblegumspacebxtch · 3 years ago

Note

your imagines are amazing!!!! U should do one where fez is mad at u and y/n makes it up to him ♥️♥️

hi anon!! so this request was pretty chill but I went ahead and made it smut because u can never really go wrong with that shit imo lol there's fluff at the end tho because im soft for protective Fez but yeah hope you enjoy this one!!

summary: you don't listen to Fez which ends up putting you in danger. he ignores you because of this. you make it up to him tho. who knew head could prompt one to admit their feelings.

mentions events from Euphoria season 1 episode 2.

warnings || 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral (m), gagging, mentions of violence, guns, and drugs, a bit of hair pulling too if u squint

Should Have Listened

You don't know how long you can take the silent treatment. You knew Fez was upset, and you really couldn't blame him. You were on your way to his place, calling him while on the drive there. "Hey, baby." You hear his gruff voice say on the other line. "Hey. I'm coming over." You turn a corner, already less than ten minutes away from his house. "Right now?" Fez asks. "Nah, Y/N. Maybe in an hour. I got someone coming over for business," he continues before you have a chance to reply. "What? But I'm already on my way there. I'm sure whoever it is won't mind." You hear him groan through the phone. "I'm not fucking around, Y/N. I don't want you around these dudes." Fez doesn't let you answer back, seeing as he was getting another call. "Y/N, just head back home, alright? I'll call you when you can come over." With that, he hangs up. You scoff at that, rolling your eyes at how dramatic you thought he was being while continuing to drive. A few minutes later you were already parking down his street.

Meanwhile, inside Fezco's house was Mouse making his regular drop of supplies. "Yo, Custer, toss me that bag." Mouse then proceeds to make the run down of the drugs he has on hand. As Custer starts doing the math, a knock on the door draws everyone's attention. "Fez? Open up," You say as you look up to where you know the camera outside is. Fez swears he starts hearing his heart beat so loud it might jump out of his chest. "Who the fuck is that?" Mouse turns to glare at Fez as Ash walks up to open the door. "Yo, chill out. That's just my girl." Mouse seems to calm down a bit, but that does nothing to lessen how threatening he makes himself out to be right now.

You greet Ash with a smile as he opens the door, but it quickly disappears upon seeing the people in the room. Some bald guy with face tattoos smirks upon seeing you. You turn to look at Fez who was looking at you desperately. He swears he's never prayed before in his life, but now seems like a good time to start. "Uh I'll just go ahead and stay in your room," you give Fez an unsure look as you start walking past the other dealers, attempting to make your way down the hall. "Nah, pretty girl. Stay here. Don't mind us," Mouse stops you in your tracks. As much as you didn't want to, your refusal would've made the situation all the more tense, making violence a possibility.

You settle on the couch opposite Fez, trying to take up as little space possible so as not to draw any more unwanted attention. "So, this your little bitch?" Mouse crouches down beside the couch in front of you. "My name is Mouse. It's a pleasure to meet you." He takes your hand in his, kissing it before turning to look at your boyfriend as he pulls away. Fez wanted to shoot Mouse right then and there, but he held back. He knew if he pulled out his gun and started shit, he'd risk getting you hurt. You were looking at Fez with pleading eyes, so much fear in them. Mouse takes a seat next to you, and you tried your best not to cringe as the couch dipped with his weight. "You ever try Fentanyl?" he asks as he shifts closer. Mouse extends his hand to move your hair off your shoulder, and you feel him breathing down your neck. "Nah, she's good, bro." Mouse turns to glower at Fez who answered for you. The two of them now shooting silent threats as they glare at one another. The tension in the air thickens. It was then you notice the subtle movement of Fezco's hand as he reaches for something in between the couch cushions. You try your best not to visibly tremble at the scene.

Mouse doesn't like being threatened, but at the same time he reminded himself that business with Fez was good. If he were to pull a stunt now, he knew that would jeopardize that. Before things could've gotten worse, Custer finishes counting the money. "It's always a pleasure doing business with you," Mouse says as he stands up from the couch. He glances at you one more time before leaving out the door with Custer in tow.

Now, in his bedroom, you watch Fez change clothes, ignoring you as he does so. You awkwardly stand there as he takes his jacket off, leaving his shirt then changing into shorts. "I'm sorry." You try again to get a reaction from him, but he simply grabs his phone, and gets comfortable on the bed. You let out a frustrated sigh as Fez continues to scroll on his phone, acting like you weren't there. You let out a long exhale before taking your sweater and shoes off. From the corner of his eye, Fez watches you settle next to him, but you kept yourself at a distance. Upset or not, he wasn't getting rid of you that easily, and you're about to grab his attention.

Fez feels you shuffling before you move to straddle him. He looks up at you with an unclear expression as you look him straight in the eye from where you sat. "What are you-" Fez stops mid-sentence as you swiftly lean down to plant your lips on his, the action causing your hips to move a bit while on top of him. Fez drops his phone beside him, and wraps his hands around your waist, almost as if on instinct. You feel his hold tighten as you deepen the kiss while starting to roll your hips. Fez twitches beneath you as you grind on him, already turned on just by having you so close to him.

You pull away momentarily to kiss down his neck, sucking lightly on the skin below his ear. Fez shudders as you continue down to his collarbones. His grip on you loosens as you shift lower, positioning yourself in between his spread legs. You lift his shirt to kiss around his lower belly, and Fez lets out a shaky exhale at the feeling. You look up to see him already watching you as you skim around the waistband of his shorts before tugging them down. You trace the pad of your fingers on his crotch, around his cock. You watch as it gets bigger, looking painfully hard. Making eye contact with Fez again, you wrap your hand around his base. Fuck, he's thick. His fat cock barely fits in your palm, your thumb and the rest of your fingers not even close to meeting.

A moan leaves his throat as you start stroking him. Fez jerks his hips at you squeezing his cock as you brush your thumb over the swollen head. His breath quickens, and he moans your name making you pump faster. You couldn't help but smile at how Fez looked right now; eyes closed, fists balled on his sides. You spread his precum before hovering over his cock. You feel his eyes on you. Can't ignore me now, can ya, you thought to yourself. You stuck your tongue out to lick his tip. Fez groans above you, but he couldn't savor the feeling for long because before he knew it you'd swallowed him, hollowing your cheeks.

"Fuck, Y/N." His hands find the back of your head, lacing his fingers through your hair in a gentle hold. You draw your head back, slowly dragging him out of your mouth. You moan at the feeling of the vein on is cock against your tongue. You try to look up at him again, but his eyes are closed in bliss at the pleasure your warm wet mouth was giving. The wet sounds of your gagging as you take him deeper fill the room. Fez wills himself to look at you, your plump lips stretched around his cock as your throat bulges. "Baby, please." His addled mind not really knowing what he was begging for. You moan into him, and Fez couldn't help thrusting his hips.

With your hands twisting around the parts of him you couldn’t take down your throat, you suck harder, the sound of it echoing off the walls. Your hold on him gets tighter, moving your hand up and down faster this time. You then push as much of him down your throat. You feel his muscles tensing as his cock throbs inside you. "Shit... oh fuck," Fez grunts as he comes, hard. He releases into your mouth, and you attempt to swallow everything, but a few drops dribble on your chin. Fez struggles to catch his breath as he keeps your gaze. You use your thumb to gather his cum that spilled before sucking your finger into your mouth. Fez swears he would've cum again just watching you do that.

"C'mere." Fez gestures for you to lie down on his arm. You do just that, snuggling into his side as you wrap your arms around his torso. Fez leans down to kiss you as he rubs his thumb on your cheek. He pulls away to rest his forehead on yours, quietly staring at you before speaking. "Look, Y/N. I know you ain't bothered with what I do, but that don't mean I want you around that shit." For a split second you could see the worry in his eyes again as he thought back to what happened a few hours ago, how things could've escalated, and you wouldn't be in his arms right now. "I know. I'm really sorry. What I did was stupid." You hide your face in his neck, shying away from him. A couple of seconds in silence pass before Fez speaks up again. "I'd do anything to protect you," Fez confesses. "Can't lose you." You look up at him, his admission making a smile form on your lips. "You won't lose me," you promise him, and Fez smiles before leaning down to kiss you again.

#fezco #fezco x reader #fezco smut #fezco imagine #fezco fluff #fez imagine #fezco euphoria #euphoria imagines #euphoria #euphoria s2 #angus cloud

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grippingbeskar · 3 years ago

Text

The Element of Surprise | Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen: The Jump

mando x fem!reader

word count: 6.8k

warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (oral f recieving, m masturbation, overstimulation, kinda dom vibes) general sexual content, swearing

a/n: WOW FINALLY. I was feeling so unmotivated but all your lovely little messages and comments brought out my inspo!!! so yay another chapter!! im hoping to finish writing the story in the next couple weeks but I cant believe how far this has come WOW. anyways ill go now love u all bye!

p.s idk how well this is edited but just ignore the typos if they r there okay okay bye

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“What even is a Mythosaur?” Din sticks a hand out to stop you as another ship whizzes past, your eyes not moving fast enough to track it as it disappears into the distance.

Corellia isn’t as ‘city like’ as you first thought. The buildings are smaller, shorter, but there’s just as many people crammed into them. Ships fly up and down the narrow streets, and you swear they are going to burst into flames when they inevitably smash into each other, but they never do.

“Like a big bug. With two legs. Giant.”

“Now you’re just making things up.” You roll your eyes as you round the corner, and you just hear him huff, making sure the kids crib clears the corner of passing traffic before returning his attention to you.

“I’m not. Things are fast, too. Ran me all the way across the desert.”

“Sure it did. Did it lead you to the end of a double rainbow? Pot of gold at the end?” Dins hand grabs on to your forearm to stop you from crossing the road. Just as you look up at him, a giant golden ship shoots past, kicking up dust and sending a gush of wind straight into your face, pushing you back a little. “You know, I can see the face your making right now.”

“Go.” Din breathes, and only because you’ve been studying him so closely do you pick up the light tone in between, and you know he’s smiling.

You’d both been walking for about twenty minutes, arguing lightheartedly about stupid things that pop into your head, and you had been taking the piss out of him about it for that entire time. Everything seemed simple, so straightforward, and it made you think about how long this was going to last. The only other time you had felt this safe, this sure that where you were was exactly where you were supposed to be was when you were a kid. You felt more free than you ever had, and stronger than before.

Just being around the kid made you better, more connected, and now that you had somewhere to focus your energy, things seemed to come more naturally to you. It was always the thing you had struggled with the most - trying to quiet your mind for longer than three seconds to actually get something done, but here it was almost easy. You hadn’t said anything to Din, but when you were piloting his ship, everything seemed so much clearer when he was there next to you, so you had been conducting little experiments of your own.

You tried to focus elsewhere, on the kid or on your own happy places like when you were younger, but nothing helped clear your mindset, helped you reset like when you imagined him. He was impossible to not think of, so you leaned into it, and found you were stronger for it. Every time you tried to lift something through the Force, tried a new technique with the kid, you honed in all of the racing thoughts your mind constantly flashed of Din, and streamlined them into your own personal muse. It worked; a bit too well. You had noticed an almost overflow of energy, and you were restless - antsy to let it out.

“In here.” A large hand rests on the small of your back, directing you into the side of a building. As you pass through the door, you see a glimpse of the main hall, fit with a small circular bar in the centre and a couple people milling around the outside. Din keeps you moving straight up the stairs, not even looking into the room.

You jog up four flights of stairs before you finally stop, and you try to hide how out of breath you were. You see the flash of a light and then the door opens.

“Wh- do we not have to, like, pay for it?” Din pushes into the room, and drops the small pile of bags down at the front. You follow him inside and let your back pack slide off your shoulders, flinging it into the door at the end of the hall and watching as it skids along the hard wood floor.

“An old friend.” He says simply, as if it’s enough to answer why you snuck up the side of the building and broke into an empty room. At least you hope it was empty.

“Since when do you have friends?” Another door opens, and with a low mumble of something you don’t catch Din slides the kid out of his crib and lets him on the floor. Immediately he waddles into the hallway between rooms, and you see him flip a couple times in the air before disappearing around a corner, a few clicks signalling him opening and closing doors as he explores. You can’t help the little smile that appears - just a few days ago he was hopeless at getting in the air, but now he’s flipping around without a care in the world. Din turns to look at you silently before moving towards another doorway to the left and walking through it, this time leaving the door open.

This place must be huge. As you move further into the apartment looking space, you look down the hallway to momentarily catch Grogu’s giant head wandering into the kitchen, door shuttering closed behind him.

Of course he would find the food first.

You turn your attention back to the door Din left open, and walk inside of it, breath catching in your throat. You don’t see him at first, too distracted by the space. The room is plain; light coloured sandy walls surround you, and you think you see a light on in the bathroom under the closed door. You take another step, and don’t bother searching for Din because your eyes are fixated on the thing in front of you.

A bed.

A giant, gloriously fluffy bed, complete with enough blankets and pillows to take up almost half of the mattress. You jump, flopping your entire body onto the soft covers and sigh into them, practically sinking. As much as you love your little place on the Razor Crest, that tiny cot has made your back lock up on more days than it hasn’t.

Your arms spread out not even touching the opposite side of the bed, and you stretch, enjoying the enormous space. Pushing some of the pillows off onto the floor you shuffle yourself up higher, and it’s then that you hear the door to the bathroom open. You flip over, but not fast enough to react before he’s on you.

Within a second Din covered the length of the room and landed on top of you, straddling you to the bed and pinning your arms above your head. He was still in his full armour, and the image in front of you was almost a little daunting. You had seen him in armour the entire time you had known him, and even seen him above you like this, but there was something about the way his chest was dragging heavily with each breath, and how one of his gloved hands easily held both of your wrists above you that sent a swirl of heat and a little bit of fear through your whole body, and your toes curled in response.

“Hi princess.” He whispers above you and you have to close your eyes to hide the effect. He lowers his body so he presses against you, the cool metal burning your skin in the best way. “Not so talkative now?”

“Hu-h?” You try to open your eyes, but he’s just so damn close to your face, staring straight at you that you have to shut them again.

“You’ve been on my ass all day. Pissing me off.” Okay, now you look at him. You try to hide the little smirk of excitement that bursts through your face, and your cheeks flush under his accusation. You’d only been poking fun, but seeing him like this makes you think you might have to try a little harder next time, just to see what he’d do.

“Have I?” You tilt your head underneath him, and feel his grip tighten on your wrists.

“Smart-ass.” His free hand rests on your hip, pulling up your shirt slightly to expose skin. The marks of his hands he left days ago still remain, and you watch as he lines up his fingers with them, picturing just how they got there. Goosebumps appear where he touches, and he looks up at you to watch your face as he begins to slide your pants down. You shimmy trying to quicken the action, but he stops when he notices you moving.

“Stop.”

“Din, I-“

“I said stop.” The voice he uses make you listen immediately, and your hips stop their desperate attempt to be free of the fabric. “I want you to listen to me. Keep your hands there.”

Still straddling you, he lets go of your wrists and you obey. The rip of velcro frees the skin of his hands. You don’t think you will ever get over the way he takes off his armour, piece by piece like he’s unwrapping himself just for you. It’s a bit of a possessive thing, you think. Knowing that he only shows those parts of himself to you, and he does so without hesitation.

You watch him as he works through the process, not touching you apart from the weight of his body on your lower half. He undoes buckles, unties knots and slides off pieces of beskar methodically, never taking his eyes off you. It feels like it takes forever, much longer than it ever has before, and every time he takes off something new or a tighter part of clothing is revealed it gets harder and harder to keep still. When he finally gets to his undershirt your a wriggling mess, shifting and fidgeting until you forget what you were meant to be doing and you lift your hands up, fingertips finding the hem of his shirt. The helmet drops and your hands still - remembering suddenly.

“What’d I say?” Your eyes widen and you let go of his shirt, putting your arms back over your head the way he left them, but rolling your eyes as you do it.

“Such a good girl.”

You are pretty sure you stop breathing. He’s called you a million names, praised you a hundred times and somehow every time it just makes you fucking hotter. Right now, though, it almost seems different. It’s like he expects it from you. Like you should do it. There’s a tiny part in you that wants to be defiant just for the sake of it - just to see how he handles it, but first you want to see where he’s going with this.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Close your eyes.” You do, so fast and missing any of that defiance you were so sure of only seconds ago. You feel his thumb come up against your face before four strong fingers find the back of your neck and lift you up slightly. With your head hovering above the flat of the mattress, the hiss of his helmet fills your ears and you feel warmth all around your head. It’s dark, and all encompassing. You know you have your eyes closed but it was light outside, so what is it suddenly so dark?

“Open them.”

It’s still unbelievably dark, and you let yourself adjust to your new surroundings. It takes a second, but as each of your senses relax, you figure it out. Your eyes see nothing, but you can smell him all around you. The warmth against your cheeks wraps around the back of your head, and you only notice it because of the line of cool metal that rests at the base of your neck.

Are you-

“Din?” Your voice makes you jolt, and you hear him laugh above you, feeling the sound on your collarbone. It was the only way you could tell how close he was. The sounds you made were unfamiliar - metallic. It was similar to hearing Din, but high pitched and a little squeakier, which made you laugh along with him. He must have shut the visor off, because there’s no way he could see out of this thing like this.

“Is that what I sound like?” Din says between kisses that he leaves along your shoulder, working his way down slowly, slipping over the bunched up fabric on your shirt around your chest. You shake your head, and realise how heavy the helmet is when it swings you both ways.

“You wish.” His teeth nip at your skin and you let out a squeak, the mood slowly falling back into darkness, your breathing slower but more desperate.

“Mm.” He shuffles down your body, giving himself room to slide your pants off completely, taking your underwear with them and leaving you naked from the waist down. The bed dips and suddenly his mouth is kissing at your stomach, licking at your rib cage and then your hips, spending a little extra time appreciating those fading bruises at each one. “No more smart ass comments.”

“Do-“ He nips at your skin again and your whole body reacts, a modulated moan breaking the silence as he licks over the mark. He sighs and his forehead rests on your lower stomach, his hair tickling your skin.

“Stop making this so hard, baby.” Swallowing, you move a little underneath him but keep your hands above your head. “Say something if you want me to stop.”

“What do I say?” Your heart was starting to race in anticipation. You can’t imagine him doing anything you would want to stop, but it just makes you melt even further into the soft mattress, knowing how safe you are with him.

“Choose.” He keeps kissing, every inch of skin open to him, and you shudder when he kisses the top of your thigh - an indicator he’s moving closer.

“Mythosaur.” You say half heartedly, and he snorts, his face pressing into the top of your thigh. You can feel his smile on your skin and your whole body flushes thinking about what he would look like smiling.

“You are not going to remember that.” Muffled, he moves to the other side, continuing his slow pace.

“Yes I will. Just - keep going. I will.” Your legs tense and the soft material of the covers feel soothing when you scrunch them up in your fist. Your trying your best to do what he says but all you want to do is grab his head, breathing is suddenly becoming harder inside of this suffocating helmet and you are so hot and this thing is so tiny -

“Shh. Deep breaths. Just take a minute.”You nod and his hand spreads across your tummy, soothing circles bringing your mind to attention. “Relax, cyar’ika.”

The reminder he’s still there is enough to calm you, and you feel the soft, spongey interior of the helmet become less squishy and more comfortable with every breath. Whatever he tells you, you do. Okay. Easy.

“Why is it so dark?” He drags his nose along your upper thigh, and you feel his head drop back against your skin.

“Blacked out the visor. Use it to sleep.” He murmurs against your skin, and everything feels electric when he starts to move again. “You okay?”

“I- yeah. Yes. Yep.” Broken words drop into the room in a metallic pitch and he breaths a laugh at your mangled sentence.

“You look so fucking good like this.” He hooks his arms around your legs and positions himself between you, letting your body completely relax and taking the weight off your thighs. You know how soaked you are, you can feel it as he breathes against you, waiting - for what you aren’t sure. “I- been too long I- say something if you need me to st-“

He cuts himself off as he tastes you - finally - and you start shaking immediately. He always has you strung so tight it’s impossible to control yourself, and one strong arm comes to hold you down across your hips, pinning you into the bed. He takes your clit into his mouth and sucks, tongue trailing after and drawing lines and circles that drive you dizzy.

You can’t stop your hands as they come down to find his hair, tangling into the slightly damp mess. He groans, the sound vibrating straight into your core and even though the helmet keeps you in the dark your vision starts to spot. The other hand that was holding your thighs open comes between them, and you drop your legs open - inviting as he slides and curls one finger inside of you.

“Oh sh-shit Din. That’s it.” He responds to your praise by applying more pressure, and your back arches into him, the arm holding you down coming under your lower back and holding you against his face.

“S’sweet, but such a fuckin’ smart-ass.” He murmurs. The sounds of his tongue is almost amplified in the helmet and you moan out again. Din was a whole body experience, and only after a minute or two he had you reeling - arching and swearing, inching closer to your release. “Gonna shut you up now.”

“O- ah fuck D-“ He adds another finger and curls it straight into your core. Every tight muscle relaxes and tenses and everything spins, the extra sensory deprivation of the helmet making everything grittier. His tongue flattens, tasting as much as he possibly can and you pull on his hair - but it’s when he takes your clit back into his mouth and you feel his fucking teeth-

You say his name in a long, drawn out moan as you cum in his mouth, and he does nothing to draw you out of it other than utter small praises in between your gasps. His hold on you is tight and unrelenting as you black out under the pressure, your legs swinging around the back of him and pulling him closer.

He doesn’t stop like you expect.

Doesn’t slow down, doesn’t let you recover before sending you straight back into the mind numbing pleasure. You can’t see him, and his mouth is so concentrated on the patterns he’s drawing with his tongue that you can’t hear him talking. All you can decipher is your own metallic version of his name and the wet sounds of yourself mixing with his mouth and fingers.

“You get so f-fucking wet af-“ He sucks and bites and licks in between words, every movement making your hips buck “after you cum.”

“D-din it’s- i’m-“

“No. You’re gonna take what I g-give you, cyar’ika.” He dives back into your heat, fingers working you faster and his thumb replaces his tongue. Everything is hot and the arch in your back presses your shoulders further into the fluffy blanket behind your head. All the sensations mixed with his words and how fucking good his mouth feels has you-

“Fucking h-hell- shitshitshit so good-“ Your eyes screw shut even though you can’t see and you roll your entire body into him just to be closer. His hand wraps around you tighter, the entire lower half of your body controlled in his grip making it impossible to escape the pleasure spreading up your spine and across your stomach. “Din- I th-think I’m gonn- cum.”

“Th-that’s it. Good g-girl.” Your second orgasm bursts like a balloon inside of you, starting low in your core and exploding over your entire body, and it’s seconds after that you are shivering underneath him, completely overwhelmed.

You can tell how wet you are, the blankets underneath you soaked with the evidence but he still doesn’t let up. Somehow he feels closer than before, lips and tongue seemingly everywhere at once and his fingers pump in and out of you, every time making your hips and stomach tense and jolt.

“Din pleasepleaseplease- s’much I’m g-“ Floating and completely molded to how he’s holding you, he never pulls away too far that his mouth isn’t on you, lips brushing your overly sensitive clit when he speaks. He kisses it and lets his fingers come all the way out before curling them back in.

“Fuckin’ bratty before. Want my nice girl back.” You weren’t sure if he was talking about the walk here, or when you made fun of him while you were dropping the ship off, or maybe when you sucked him off so good he was about ready to give you anything you asked for - there were so many times he could be paying you back for but you don’t care - you just need him now. “Pissed me off.”

“B-but i’ll be- f-fuuuck i’ll be so good I sw-“ Another kiss to your clit has you crying out, and you swear you nearly cum just from the light touch. His mouth draws a circle all around your pussy, gathering as much of your cum as possible and taking it into his mouth before returning to your clit. Tears start to form on your eyes because it’s so much but it’s so good-

“Still with me, cyar’ika?” His lower lip drags over your clit and you try to nod, but the helmet is so heavy that you just squirm, one hand leaving his hair to lift your body up and make the movement possible. He takes his mouth off you for the first time in what feels like hours and you miss it instantly - your body squirming to search for him in the simulated darkness. “You gonna be sweet to me now? Know you can be.”

“Maker - whatever you want, Din. I promise okay-“

“That’s it, princess. Always know exactly what I wanna hear.” His words are so sweet but he just keeps fucking going and god- there’s no way to hold back the sounds of your sobs because it feels like he’s electrifying you, every movement sending waves of pleasure that make you flinch. Your hands are grasping at strands and you feel the bed dip again as he gets on his knees, pulling your lower half into the air, one arm still wrapped around you.

He has complete control, just like he had the entire time, and your legs drag up his back to wrap loosely around his neck, although your muscles are so strung out that you can’t really find a grip. You just fold and crumple the way he wants you to - doing whatever he wants and crying out his name as you cum again and everything goes white.

The sounds are so strange it’s almost disconnected that it’s coming from you - modulator buzzing as you babble praise and curses in no particular way, just whatever you can wrap your head around in the moment. You aren’t surprised you end up just repeating his name because he is all you can think about as pleasure shoots and crackles through every nerve ending. Somewhere in between you fall back onto the mattress and he switches hands, hearing a few quiet whispers of praise before he groans and shudders against you. When he finally settles, he has you whimpering and sighing the minute his mouth comes off you and his hand finally leaves your warmth, gently placing you into the soft blankets, throwing the ruined one to the side and placing you on the clean, fluffy covers.

At some point he slides the helmet off, because your eyes are still closed but you can feel the warmth of the sun on your face. It’s the sensation that starts to draw you back to your body, that and the warmth at your back when Din curls up behind you, his bare thighs intertwining with your own. You don’t remember him taking his pants off, but then again you don’t remember much except the way his mouth feels against you. It makes you shudder against him when he presses that same mouth to the back of your neck - soothing.

“I love you.” Every part of your body sinks into him at those words, and the arms wrapping you closer bring the biggest smile to your face.

“I love you.” You whisper back, and you feel the same reaction when he smiles on the back of your neck.

“You okay? It wasn’t too- too much, was it?” He runs his hand up your thigh, and you can still feel the slight shake in your legs at the feeling of him. You like that - a reminder that he was there.

“No. Fuck no. S’good. Just sleepy.” You mumble. You can’t help it - this bed is so big and fluffy, and he feels so good wrapped up behind you that you don’t care it’s the middle of the day. The time zones you’ve been travelling through have your sleeping schedule all out of whack - so crashing right now feels like absolute heaven. He leans up to kiss your temple and drops back behind you.

“I have to go tonight. I’ll leave the comm link out for you. You’ll be okay in here, though.” Almost forgetting why you were here, you just nod and link your fingers together. “When I come back, I need to- to talk to you about something.”

Suddenly sleep is not an option.

Talk to you? About what? Why did he say it like that? Oh maker - is he kicking you out? Did something happen with the kid? Maybe he finally found that Jedi he set out for. Not like you have been overly consistent with your ‘lessons’. So many options - all of them incredible anxiety inducing, but why does he sound so nervous? You swallow and try to fog out the thoughts.

“I- Okay.” If you say anything else you think you might produce word vomit and -

“It’s not bad. I just- I want to do it right. The right way.” You try to suck in a breath and choke on it, spluttering and coughing. Smooth. “You good?”

“Yep! Fine. When, um- when do you have to go?”

“Couple hours. Sleep, you need it.”

“So d’you.” His hand continues to drag feather light lines up and down your exposed skin, and the touch practically rocks the anxiety out of you and sends you into a lull, heart beat starting to slow and exhaustion catching up.

“Mhmm. Sleep.”

“Don’t want you to not be here when I wake up.” You shuffle backwards into him and he groans, you can feel the thing material of his briefs against your bare ass. “Come closer.”

“Your killing me, cyar’ika.” He rolls against you, and your practically begging him to fuck you. “You made me cum just from tasting you. Won’t be sleeping if I’m inside you.”

The confession isn’t lost on you, and as much as you want him all the time, your body is so tired. He can always tell when your tired, too, because that’s the only reason he doesn’t bend you over the headboard and fuck you senseless. You feel his breathing start to slow, and your eyes flutter closed, drifting to sleep with the sun streaming in the small gap in the window.

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

You feel him get up, and as much as you appreciate how quiet he tries to be, the clatter of beskar wakes you almost instantly. You open your eyes, careful not to catch him at a moment when his helmet isn’t on, but when you hear the familiar hiss you let yourself watch him, the utility belt clicking into place as you pull the cover down from over your head.

“I’ll be back soon.” You nod your head, believing him.

“I know.” Shuffling down into the covers, he comes to your side and a gloved hand brushes your cheek. “Kid around?”

“Mhmm. Ate too much and passed out in the kitchen. I put him in his crib. Want me to bring him in?” You nod. As much as you like how much privacy you are afforded in this giant place, you miss having the little fuzz ball around. Plus, it makes you feel safer when he’s next to you.

“Stay safe.” You mumble as the crib rolls in to your side of the room, and you see Din stop at the door. He turns back, and you think he might come back to you - he hesitates, and suddenly the air in the room gets a little colder.

You feel something - you aren’t sure what it is, but the Force always rushes over you when you least expect it. This feeling is unfamiliar and makes your stomach turn, almost like you are nervous for something, but you aren’t sure what.

He steps out of the room and you hear the door shutter closed behind him anyways. Maybe it’s the fact that he told you he needs to talk to you when he comes back. ‘Do it right’. What the hell does that mean? Why was he being so cryptic? Grogu yawns next to you and the crib opens when he stretches his arms out - grabbing.

“Alright. Just this once.” You pull him into the bed and he easily makes a little nest in the top corner, using one of the many blankets to curl himself around in a tiny ball. His calm energy nestles next to you, and you are suddenly too exhausted to overthink - drifting back into a deep sleep, and as good as the mattress feels underneath you, just before you fall asleep you find yourself imaging the cot on the ship, and Din curled up next to you.

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

“CHECK THE BACK!”

A voice shouts you awake, and your instantly on your feet, rushing over to the bags at the door and grabbing the blaster. You don’t know the voice, but you swear it’s so loud the walls start to shake. Grogu mumbles himself awake, and he picks up on your energy, and that someone very much not The Mandalorian is inside your building.

Something breaks outside, and your heart beat pounds in your ears. Din said you were safe here - that he had an old friend. Din doesn’t trust easily, so something must of happened. You try to reach out with your senses but all you feel is chaos and determination. There’s at least 5 guys outside, and if you were on your own, with your new found strength you might take the chance to fight them - you have the element of surprise, but Grogu looks at you, big eyes wide, and you think better of it. You were still half asleep and awfully underprepared to fight one guy, let alone five.

Quickly you shove on a pair of pants, simultaneously placing the side table in front of the door with your mind and a flick of your wrist. The comm link sits on top of your table, so you grab it and move. You pick up your back pack and shove the blaster in, along with another unfamiliar weapon Din has brought with him.

Din.

He hasn’t come back. It’s light outside, and it was dark when Din left. Checking the clock behind you, you know it’s been at least seven hours since he left. Anything could have happened in that time, and he would never willingly let someone come after the kid, like when you thought those guys were going to break into the ship. Maybe he’s right outside, just biding time to take them all out in one swoop and safe you again.

You take one more second - just to check. You know what he feels like, strong and supporting, he would stick out in all this chaos with his calm energy.

You don’t find him, and the footsteps are getting closer. Din would never let anything happen to you - not if he had a choice. What if he…

No. He would have come back. You would know if something happened. Grogu would, at least. No. You would know.

Tightening the back pack straps you hear a crash right outside your door. Three strong bashes have the wood beginning to split. You scoop Grogu up into your arms. You look at the window, and remember the 4 flights of stairs you went up. You’re high up, and you haven’t made a jump this tall yet - but no better time than the present. Lucky you work well under pressure.

Quickly, you check outside below the window - no one suspicious. Ships still speed past, and you think if you time it right, you might just have a get away ride. You slide the window open. Another bang on the door and the table starts to slide out of the way, and a green arm reaches in.

“In here!” The voice attached to the arm shouts and you don’t take a second look. You leap - and for a second all you can hear is Grogu’s high pitched squeal in your ear. Everything slows, and you look down, watching as your feet lead the rest of your body and you plummet towards the ground.

You move in slow motion, and look to the right to see and white, flat like ship hurtling towards you. You let out all the breath in your lungs and shoot down, suddenly picking up an inhuman amount of speed.

The ship wobbles, nearly off course as your feet slam onto the roof, and you scramble to find something to hold onto. Grogu is continuously screeching in your arms and grabs hold of your shoulder, allowing you free reign to hold the ship with two hands.

As fast as the ships were going when you past them on the street it feels ten times worse when your on top of one. Holy shit. People looked and pointed as you flew past them, knuckles white with the force that you were hanging on to make-shift handles. Your stomach was flat against the exterior, legs swinging wildly out behind you every time the pilot took a hard turn. Maker - what the fuck were you doing? You look ahead, squinting, and try to make out what direction you were going but everything looks the fucking same when your flying through the streets on the back of some idiots speeder ship.

The pilot turns another corner and everything gets darker. You no longer have to squint as you start to get closer and closer to two giant buildings. Both towered over all the others, and were significantly darker, but the ship showed no signs of stopping.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” You take one hand off the part you were clinging to and bash onto the roof, but the ships pilot hasn’t even noticed you. They also continue to hurtle you towards certain death, because there’s no way this ship was fitting between those buildings. Oh god - you remember watching how these ships fly, and how they go horizontally to zip past buildings and avoid the main roads. You were going to get flattened if you didn’t let go soon.

The decision is no longer your own. Either you let go now, or you slam into the building and become road kill. Grogu’s little hand scrunches your shirt in a bunch and you close your eyes.

Din. Everything goes quiet.

He was there.

Walking you through the controls on the Razor Crest. You could smell him, it was like you were wearing his helmet again. He was all around but no where. You could see him in front of you, and you sucked in a deep breath as he began to take a step towards you. ‘Let go.’ He said. You can hear it in your ears, all around you like a sonic radar. It was deafening and soothing - and you grabbed at the energy that built in your chest.

“Let go.” He said. So you did.

For a second you thought you might have died. You pushed off the roof of the speeding ship with so much force - not Force but pure strength that you had to grab at Grogu before you lost him. It was weird; you knew gravity was going to hurl you onto the ground, and you knew you were going so impossibly fast that you should have been flattened into the wall in front of you. But none of that happened. You were suspended in the air - gliding towards the ground like you were a feather caught in the wind. You felt a lock of your hair brush against your cheek, and you watched as it floated; rippled in your peripheral vision. You blinked once.

Then it was over. You smashed on to the ground and rolled, wrapping the kid instinctively in your arms. You felt the pain of the fall instantly, and your arm was definitely bruised. You weren’t dead, though.

You weren’t dead?

Oh! You weren’t dead! As you came to a stop in an alleyway, smashing into an empty wooden crate, you started to put together the events that just somehow unfolded. You broke your fall. You flew. Kind of. All on your own.

When your brain stopped racketing around in your skull and you pushed up off the ground, the same hum of pride that you felt when you shoved the Razor Crest into hyperspace buzzes in your stomach. You brush off a few splinters of wood that the broken crate left on your arms.

The kid shakes his head, giant ears flopping wildley. You check him over - no cuts or bruises that he wouldn’t heal within a day. You sigh in relief, and then check yourself. Apart from a bruise already appearing on your arm, you were fine too.

You were fine. And you were the reason why.

All your life you had felt helpless - and now you were scaling speeding ships and Force jumping off them like no one’s business. All that un-used energy buzzes in your hands and chest, and you try to control your breath.

You were being chased.

Scooping the kid up and putting him in the top of your backpack, you slowly stand up and brush the dust off your pants. Ships continue to speed past the end of the alleyway, and you take a minute before you move towards the light of the street, not knowing if anyone saw what you just did. The street seems pretty empty when you peak a look, and after another minute you step out.

Two options. Left or right.

Where would Din go?

He was chasing a bounty. He would follow the tracker - only you didn’t have one. You did, however, have an uncanny ability to read the Mandalorian, and you may be able to use that to your advantage.

As much as you are feeling good about yourself right now, you know you need to find Din. You had no way of protecting yourself against that many guys without him, and there was also the daunting feeling that something may of happened to him. You need to find him - and fast.

The comm link! God - you were slow. Years on Tattooine had you never relying on technology, but you scramble to find the tiny little speaker and shove it in your ear.

“Hello?!” You take the earpiece out and shake it a bit, and then put it back in. Nothing.

The comm link was connected to his helmet. There is no way he wasn’t hearing you right now.

“Hey! Mando?!” You don’t want to say his name because you don’t know who can hear you right now. “Please. Are you there?”

Silence. Absolute silence. How was he not hearing you? You were yelling on the inside of his helmet - and there was only one plausible way that he couldn’t hear you.

“Ahh!” Grogu yells and hits you on the back of the head.

“Hey! I’m trying, okay?!” You hadn’t realised there was a tear in your eye until it fell onto your chest. No. You would know.

Shaking your head, you face the street again, keeping the commlink on, just in case. You turn left just because you feel you should, heading away from the giant building that nearly flattened you. A tiny ‘hm!’ of content comes from the back pack and you roll your eyes.

Grogu knows he’s okay too, and he needs you to focus because as strong as he was, he couldn’t do it without you. And you couldn’t do this without him. The sun begins to set as you run across the street, heading further into the city. You figure if a bounty was hiding out on a planet like this, they would go into the most populated area and hide in plain site. It’s what you used to do on Tatooine, and as much as you hate to admit it, all that hustling is going to come in handy right now.

You found him once - albeit by accident, but you could do it again. Din was fine - and you were going to find him.

***********

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mayansmcsblog · 3 years ago

Text

Her world or mine

I have no idea when i wrote this but i found it in my drafts half done so i finished it and- yh that's about it😅

This was meant to be based upon the song her world or mine but i got off track so its only loosely based upon it.

word count: 3640

Enjoy!

He hasn't used the truck for weeks, he had no reason to anymore, being in it only brought back memories of you. The long drives, the short drives too. The way you would hold his hand while he was driving or how you would remind him to pay attention to the road when he looked in your direction for too long. All the memories were fresh within his mind- almost as if it was yesterday.

Even now, he was only sitting in it, he had to do the beer run and obviously that couldn't be done on a bike, he had to take the truck, but all he could think about was how you used to sit in the passenger seat beside him. He could see it in his mind so vividly, if he didn’t know you had moved on he would swear you were sitting with him.

Looking at the dash his gaze caught the Polaroid photo that was still in its place next to the radio. Your face accompanied a smile whilst his had his usual ‘tough’ man expression, but if you looked close enough, you would be able to see a small smile placed upon his lips. You took it at one of the infamous Mayans parties, he remembered how it took you around 10 minutes to ‘convince’ him to take it, he wanted to take it from the moment you suggested it but he wondered how far you would go to get him to do it

“Please” you had been begging him for the last 5 minutes in attempt to get him to take a photo with you but to no avail

“No” you two were sitting on the bench outside the clubhouse, people surrounding the both of you, everyone was involved on their own conversations so neither of you paid any mind to them. Of course he was still aware of his surroundings but was more relaxed than usual

“But come on” you begged

“No y/n” he kept his face as straight as he could but you could slowly see a shadow of a smirk forming upon his lips

“Why?”

“No face no case” he shrugged with a slight smirk on his face, clearly that was a lie. Not even 20 minus prior you had taken a photo of all of the club members standing outside of the clubhouse per bishop’s request so he could frame it and hang it somewhere within the clubhouse to show off the members.

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“Why are you so adamant? “He questioned

“Because”

“Because what?” standing up he motioned for you to do so as well,

“Just because”

“Come on follow me”

Standing up you took this hand as led you away from the party,

“Where are we going?”

“To take this god damn photo”

Recalling that night he felt a pain inevitably run across his chest, sure you two were only friends when it was taken but that night was the foundation for building the relationship you two once shared.

Why had he been so stupid to let you go?

He knew he would have to drive past your place to get to the brewery, it was inevitable really. There was no other way unless he was going to drive an extra 30 minutes, which he didn't have time for.

when he reached the turn in to your street he slowed down a little, looking at your house from a distance he could see a car he didn’t recognize in the driveway. As he got closer he could see two people on the porch, he immediately recognized you accompanied by some guy.

Of course you had someone else.

-----

Sitting on the couch you couldn't help but let your mind drift back to him, you missed his smile, you missed the way he would have a running commentary while watching anything on the TV, you missed how he would hold you after a long day, you missed everything about him.

“You’re thinking about him again, aren't you?”

You did nothing but hum in response

Your brother had elected to stay with you for a few weeks while he was on a business trip for some type of expansion for the company he worked for. Originally it was a good idea, it kept you mind off Ez, but the more time your brother was here, the more he talked about his wife back home and how he couldn't wait to get back to her just made you think about how you don't have someone in your life to look forward to anymore, you no longer had someone you could tell everything to, someone who would stay by your side, someone you knew would be waiting for you when you were away from home. As much as you loved your brother, you were thankful he was leaving tomorrow

“Im gonna go get a drink” standing up you heard your brother mumble something in response but you elected ignored him and heading to the kitchen.

As you approached the fridge you spotted the picture of you and Ezekiel stuck on the door. You were pretty sure it was Coco who had taken when him, you, Ez and Angel went over the border for a day because none of you had anything to do and for some reason Mexico was the first thing that was suggested. You had been meaning to get rid of it but couldn't bring yourself to. Alot of memories were collected between the four of you, some of them you were just not ready to let go of yet.

By now he was probably already in another relationship so why were you still holding on?

Grabbing a bottle of water you headed outside and sat on the porch steps. You knew there was a party at the clubhouse tonight, Angel had invited you to come, but you knew Ez would be there.

Did you really want to see a girl all over him while you're still here alone? Because that would definitely happen

Maybe he wouldn't be there? Or maybe he would be too busy doing stuff to even realize you were there

You were too wrapped up in your own mind to even realize your brother had stepped outside till you heard a creak from the wood behind you

“Y/n?”

“Yeah”

“you okay?" He asked sitting beside you

“yep"

You two sat in silence for a few moments before he started talking once again

“I love you ye? Don’t let that boy ruin you. He lost you by his own fault. You did nothing” he rambled on about how you should have been treated better and how Ez lost the best thing he could ever have. But you knew he was wrong.

Ezekiel always treated you like a queen, your brother met him one time and barely spoke to him for longer than five minutes. As far as you were concerned you brother didn't know anything about him

While he was rambling you were looking into the distance, mainly just looking at the sky but you could have sworn you saw his truck drive past, but maybe you were just seeing things right? His truck wasn't the only one, there were probably millions of them.

The party was in full swing, people were everywhere, the room full of patches from all over. mass amounts of people from charters were visiting in celebration of a new deal with the sons, leaving Ez to tend the bar along with some hang rounds.

Wiping down the bar he couldn't help but think about you for the billionth time today. He knew you two broke things off but it didn't mean you had to leave everyone from the club behind as well as him.

"Bro what the hell is wrong with you?" Angel questioned

"Nothing" shrugging his shoulders he dropped the bar rag and turned to get angel a beer from the fridge behind him

"Stop lyin man, what's going on in that head?" Angel knew his own brother better then to believe 'nothing' was going on with him, something was always going on up in Ez's brain, even if he didn't admit it

"I dunno man, I just think it's weird how y/n left us you know?" Ez shrugged again, handing angel a beer

"She didn't leave us. She’s distancing herself. Got a lot of family shit going on right now" he explained, you kept Angel in the loop with everything, after all he was your best friend even before Ez and you got together, if Ez wouldn't tell you something- Angel would.

"Just think it’s weird" Ez repeated, messing with the bar rag once again

"Ya well she’s coming tonight”

Before Ez could respond coco stood next to Angel

"Who’s comin?"

The brothers looked at each other for a moment before angel came up with an idea

"Just some random bird for our boy scout to bed"

"My man," Coco chuckled "finally gonna get your dick wet huh?"

----

You knew this was a bad idea, you knew he would be here.

Was he going to be with another girl? Actually stupid question, of course he would be

Opening your phone you sent angel a text

‘I'm like five minutes out but i swear to God if you abandon me tonight i will hit you so hard that you can't remember anything for a week’

At least he would walk in with you so you weren’t alone right?

---

Angel stood up abruptly in the middle of a conversation he was having

"Where the fuck you going?" Coco questioned, lighting a cigarette from the chair he was sitting in

"Meet a friend"

"A friend huh?"

"Yeah...maybe you'll like her" Angel replied before grabbing his beer and retreating towards the door.

---

Walking through the gate you saw the front of the club littered with patches. Some of them were from different charters. Weird, angel never mentioned other charters visiting, by the look of the outside, you could only imagine the clubhouse itself is packed with people.

Scanning the crowd you spotted the person in question walking towards you

“Hey stupid face”

“good evening stupid head”

“that's basically the same thing i just said”

"oh shut up i couldn't think of insult fast enough”

Pulling you into a hug you couldn't help but feel a little more relaxed. Angel was always like an older brother to you, an annoying one at that but still a brother.

It had been weeks since you saw him, being back in his company made you feel safe again, almost like a sense of home

He placed a kiss on your temple “We missed you here”

“Yeah, I know” letting him go you looked around, mainly to see if any of the other guys were in sight but also to see if coco was around, expecting to be attacked as per usual.

Angel took notice of you scanning the crowd “He's inside”

“Hmm? Sorry I got no idea what you're on about”

Pulling you into his side he wrapped an arm around your shoulders “sure ya don't”

Walking inside you scanned the crowd once again, thankfully coco was nowhere to be seen for the moment and most of the guys were spread out around the room. Bishop and Taza were playing pool, Gilly and Creeper were sitting at the table in a conversation whilst hank sat opposite them looking at something on his phone, Ez was tending the bar like usual but this time he was accompanied by some hang rounds.

At least there isn't girls hanging off him yet

“C'mon let’s get a drink huh” angel lightly shoved you towards the bar playfully.

“No”

“No?” his eyebrows raised playfully

“No and if you try to make me go over there with you i promise i will embarrass you” you laughed

“Fine”

After he got the drinks you both sat at a table in the corner for a while talking, the majority of the topics were about what had been happening while you were distanced from everyone.

Eventually Coco spotted you two and joined in the conversation. you sat talking to the two of them while everyone else was up to their own things, you didn't mind, the both of them combined made for some very interesting storys, the conversation could never die. After around 10 minutes, Angel had left you two alone saying he “wasn't bout to listen to this shit ''- which was super ironic considering the topic of conversation was about modifications for a new bike coco had brought a few days ago

“How does your bike handle anyway? I heard they are bottom heavy and hard to manoeuvre sometimes” you questioned. overtime Ez had taught you some things about bikes, mainly when he was just rambling about random things not thinking you were really paying attention to what he was saying

“It’s alright i guess, sometimes it slips when I lean too far on corners, other times it tends to not wanna go the way I need to but other than that it handles pretty well, arms hurt like a bitch after long ride though” he explained

Nodding your head you understood where he was coming from, having your arms at that angle for hours must have taken its toll

“Ay '' he nodded his head towards someone behind you, Turning your head you saw it was Ez walking through the door with Angel, seemingly engrossed in some type of conversation they were having.

Despite spotting him earlier you only scanned over his appearance but now you actually took a good look at him, he looked different, not much but still different from before. His hair was in the same style but it little more grown out then usual, his facial hair had grown out a little too. His eyes had bangs underneath them and his face looked drained.

All in all he looked like shit.

“You know he’s not the same without you right?” bringing your attention back to coco you couldn't help but feel like you were to blame, maybe if you fought harder of him you two would have never split.

“You two spoke since?” he questioned

“Nope...I got a few drunk calls saying he was sorry but other than that. No” you shook your head.

After you two first broke up he called you around a week later rambling about something but since he was slurring his words- you could barely understand anything he was saying. You got about 2 voicemails of him saying he was sorry and how he fucked up but- you never spoke to him, never texted him back when he would ask you if you were coming to one of the parties.

“The amount of times we've had to stop him from drunk calling you is unreal”

Playing with the label on the beer bottle in front of you, you thought about what coco said- clearly Ez had attempted to talk to you at some point, but why? The whole breakup was because he needed “space” to deal with some things so why was he trying to talk to you?

“He wanted space, I gave it to him” you shrugged, slowly peeling off the label

“Didn’t mean you had to leave us too” looking up from the bottle you saw coco was now avoiding your gaze

“Yeah...I know” maybe it was wrong of you to drop everyone, but being around them would have only brought back memories of you and Ez. At the time it seemed like a good idea to distance yourself from all of the guys, but now, despite only being here for a hour, you could tell how much you really missed being around them.

“You know he’s walking over here right?” Dropping your head onto the table you let out a sigh causing coco to laugh “I’ll leave you two alone huh?” lifting your head up you looked at him with a facial expression as if to say ‘don’t leave me’ but he did anyway

“Y/n” his voice was low, almost as if he didn’t believe he was saying your name again

“Ezekiel”

“Can we talk?”

“We are talking” sitting up straight you turned in your seat to look at him. He looked even worse up close- the bags under his eyes were alot darker then they seemed from a distance, they made it appear like he hadn’t slept for days, you couldn’t help but notice he had a bruise slowly forming on top of his right eyebrow.

“What happened there?”

He looked confused for a moment till you pointed to his eyebrow

“Oh I erm…got into a fight.....with a wall” his eyes were trained onto the floor, almost like he was ashamed.

You hummed in response not sure how to respond without laughing

“So how have you been?” he questions

“Good i guess..how about you?”

“Alright I suppose”

What followed was nothing but silence between the both of you, neither of you knowing what to say. The sounds of other people talking and rock music became almost deafening as the two of you stayed silent

“Well this got really awkward fast” you spoke up causing Ez to laugh a little

“Yeah..yeah it did” he nodded

After a few more moments you stood from your chair “I'm just gonna-”

“Yeah go, i get it go ahead” he finished your sentence for you.

Nodding you quickly made your way outside, the yard was almost empty by now, people had either left for the night or had moved inside.

You spotted Angel sitting on the front steps fiddling with one of the rings on his hand while looking at something in the distance. You sat beside him in silence, neither of you even attempting to make conversation but simply just being trapped within your own minds.

When you and Ez broke up you knew things would change, you knew the two of you probably wouldn't be able to have the same conversations you would before, but you never expected them being so awkward.

Maybe it was just because the wound was still pretty fresh, after all it had only been just over a month

After a few minutes you heard the door behind you open as someone stepped out, seconds later a figure sat next to you, looking over you saw it was coco

“What we doin? havin a lil moment to yourselves” he asked lighting up a cigarette and offering the both of you one

“Yep” Angel responded, taking one and lighting it before looking somewhere in the distance once again. All three of you sat for a few minutes just looking at seemingly nothing in particular.

Maybe it won't be like this forever? At some point there has got to be a time where you can come to the club without feeling awkward because ez’s here.

You heard the clubhouse door open once more behind you and once again, you didn't turn around, but coco did

"Ay man sit" you heard him say as he snapped his fingers at space left beside him to whoever stepped out from the door. It didn't take long for whoever it was to sit down.

Much like he did with you and Angel, Coco offered the person a cigarette which they must of silently declined from the lack of verbal exchange.

There has to be a point when you and the club can all hang out together like before....there has to be a stage where you and Ez can talk like normal people without it being awkward….right?

Seemingly out of no were Coco spoke up, nodding his head towards two stacked benches on the opposite side of the yard "You think i could clear those in one attempt?"

Angel was the first to respond "Absolutely fucking not" he paused for a moment- looking where the benches were stacked "but I'd love to see you try"

"I bet $50 you fail and fall face first" someone spoke up, looking to your left you finally realized who stepped out earlier ..Ezekiel

"Bet, ill prove you wrong" coco stood, taking off his kutte and placing it on the stair rail "you two wanna place any bets?" Coco looked at you and Angel

"Nope, I'm good" you shook your head

"I bet $50 that you don't clear it" Angel responded

"You have no faith pretty boy" coco responded, shaking his head as he started to walk over to the benches

"This is going to end in a hospital trip" you stated making both Angel and Ez laugh

All three of you watched as coco seemed to examine the height of the two benches, planning the distance he would have to run to gain enough speed to propel himself over them and how he would land the jump

"You think he's gonna snap his nose again?" Ezekiel questioned

"Definitely" both you and Angel replied

All three of you watched as coco began to run towards the benches, from your angle it looked as if he could clear it....you were wrong.

Seconds later coco was laying face first in the dirt, one leg was on the floor while the other was stuck in a piece of wood on the bench that had broke underneath his weight

"I think i broke my nose" you heard coco exclaimed causing all three of you to laugh. The few people who were still outside drew their attention to the scene and started laughing too when they realized what happened.

"Ill go get some paper towels" you said, still laughing.

Maybe this was a sign nothing had changed between the four of you, that you could all still hang out and do stupid stuff like before

Maybe nothing has to change

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

An| hope you enjoyed this fic. Honestly have no idea why or when i started writing this but 🤷🏼‍♀️ . *sorry for any spelling or grammar errors or any parts that don't make sense. only scanned it before posting it*

ALSO- i swear part two to the prank war is coming! Its just talking awhile for me to find a way to describe to things going on as well as being busy with other stuff.

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bsaka7 · 3 years ago

Note

estemick + 17 or 18.... i couldnt choose

estemick and challenge or intervene...hard choices!!! i'll do intervene bc then i can uhh make it less about racing i guess bc otherwise i'll get TOO INTO IT. also the first time i tried to answer this im not even kidding i spent maybe 3 hours watching mick videos and then esteban videos. #research. i am in my ESTEBAN era and idk my main thoughts on estemick are. that mick talks to his dog about his relationships. also i am :) about haas this year. also STRONG APOLOGIES THAT LANCE IS IN THIS!!! I JUST KNOW THEY ARE ALL FRIENDLY!!!!!!!

They're standing outside some restaurant in France that neither of them were familiar with. Twilight dances in the air around them. It's warm but cooling off quickly.

"You said Pierre recommended you this spot?" Mick asks, breathing in the air of the countryside. Neither Mick nor Esteban particularly wants to go home but there's nothing else to do. Lance and his girlfriend had been supposed to be there too but their flight had been delayed.

Esteban shook his head. "I came here with Pierre's family, a long time ago," he says. Mick likes how Esteban is pretty honest with himself and is confident enough to keep his cards close to his chest. He also likes how he's gotten close enough for Esteban to show him some of those cards.

Mick hums, and the sound is swept away into the night air. It's a Wednesday and they're far enough away from everything for anything to happen. Mick thinks he could have been convinced to go to a casino if Esteban had been the type and there had been one nearby, but he's not and there's not. He knows the right thing to do is to say his goodbyes, say he's got to get back to his hotel room. He thinks Esteban is staying with a family friend, or an Airbnb, maybe.

Esteban's phone buzzes twice in his pocket and he pulls it out. His pants are tight. Mick notices. He pretends he doesn't, but he does. Esteban and his tight jeans and his generic black t-shirts that are best when they're a little too short and Esteban leans back. Mick stops his thoughts where they're at.

"It's Lance," Esteban says, smiling slightly. He's always smiling. He grins when he's uncomfortable and he smiles like he's honest. Neither of them are terribly outgoing but Esteban smiles like he has something to share and he's offering it to the people around them. "Yeah," Esteban is saying into the phone. "Mick is here. No, Lance, I haven't done anything. What do you mean this was supposed to be a set-up?"

"A set-up?" Mick asks, perking up, looking at Esteban in the dimming light.

Esteban looks shifty-eyed as he responds again. "I didn't need you to intervene, Lance." Lance says something that Mick can almost hear through the speakers. "Well, maybe I will," Esteban says finally, and hangs up the phone, sliding it awkwardly into his pocket. Esteban is so lanky and so awkward and so kind. Mick finds it idiotic that this is what he finds endearing, these days. This is what he tells Angie about. A man who fumbles putting his phone away and can do a plank for eight minutes.

"What was that all about?" Mick asks, because he can't not ask. Esteban shifts his weight from one foot to the other and smiles, awkwardly. Mick isn't sure what's different. They've just been doing what they've been doing. "What did Lance say?"

Mick is quiet and he likes to think before he speaks and sometimes he misses things that are right in front of his eyes. But he trusts Esteban. He thinks there's something here and if Esteban were really pushing back, he'd leave it, but he's not.

Esteban shakes his head. "Lance wants me to talk to you about something."

"Okay," Mick says, drawing the syllable out in his mouth. "About what?"

"Maybe we should both --" Esteban starts, and then points down the street. He starts to walk and Mick falls into step beside him. It's like being on a track walk, or hanging out in Geneva, or what Mick imagines walking Angie with Esteban would be like.

"What?" Mick says again. Asks again. Prompts again. Esteban looks at him and smiles slightly, laughs a little awkwardly. Mick wants to tell him that it's just him. Esteban gets who Mick is. Not his legacy, not his future. Just who Mick is, right now.

Esteban looks at him and takes his hand. "This," he says.

"Oh," Mick says, pleasantly surprised at their fingers interlaced. His words feel stilted in his mouth. "That's alright with me."

Esteban smiles at him, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He's so tall. Mick smiles too.

#BOTH PROMPT FILLS TODAY TALKING ABOUT DOGS WHAT DOES THIS MEAN #jk i know what it means. i want a dog.#ok this was supposed to have more angie in it than it did but the dog part STILL MATTERS #sorry also all i know about mick is that he likes his dog and one of his hobbies is working out #who has to work out for their job and their HOBBY IS ALSO WORKING OUT #i say this as someone who. arguably. has a hobby. of working out. BUT I WOULD NEVER SAY THAT TO SOMEONE I JUST LIKE 2 RUN #ASK GAME #ask #thank u martheee

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gale-gentlepenguin · 4 years ago

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ML What If 4B

(Previous part)

(What if Luka Learned the Truth in Truth?)

This is Option B which was the second most requested

(B. Adrien says they will runaway together.

_____________________________________________________________

-“I am glad I got to tell you before I forget.” Marinette spoke softly.

-She kisses him.

-“Good bye, My kitty.”

-Marinette prepared to renounce her Guardianship. Until Adrien covered her lips.

-“Wait!”

-Marinette stops.

-"That can't be the best option. If you lose your memory, then I still have to fight Shadowmoth on my own, and you will still be targeted."

-Marinette thinks for a moment. Adrien had a point. Sure if she forgot, she couldn't give up any useful information, but that just put all of the responsibility of chat noir. Shadowmoth knows Chat noir deeply cares about her... so she would STILL be targeted. As would her family and friends.

-Marinette felt despair. Adrien was right.

-"Then what can we do?"

-"We run away."

-Marinette blinked.

-"We can't just abandon the city."

-"Its for the sake of Paris that we do. Shadowmoth is only interested in the miraculous. He will pursue us anywhere we go. So we run and try and find a solution."

-"Adrien... but what about your life?"

-"You are losing more then I am bugaboo..." Adrien admitted.

-"We need to make a few preparations.

_____________________________________________________________

-Shadowmoth dispatched the police with ease. Now trying to figure out how to pursue Ladybug and Chat noir.

-The heroine couldn't hide from him. At least thats what he thought.

-A message on the TV caught his attention.

-The mayor was with Ladybug and Chat noir.

-Shadowmoth watched the tv.

-"Shadowmoth. We know you are out there. We are leaving Paris. If you want our miraculous, you will need to find us. If you attack Paris while we are gone, we have made sure that other heroes will handle you."

-Shadowmoth remembered that Ladybug and Chat noir did indeed have other hero friends. (remembering Majestia, the one that could MOVE THE MOON,) He had to admit, that was clever. Shadowmoth had attacked NYC, which technically made him an international terrorist. (he had covered his tracks in Shanghai, but not in NYC)

-Ladybug and Chat noir used their space forms and flew off.

-All of Paris was shocked, it was quite a tragic day for Paris.

-Shadowmoth growled. He decided to return to his lair. He would need to figure out where the two heroes had gone. No point in attacking Paris if they aren't IN Paris.

-Shadowmoth needed to reconsider his plan. But first, he needed to ensure that this wasn't a bluff.

_____________________________________________________________

-After a week, Gabriel had made a sentimonster known as Pursuit (a monster that looked Like Feast, but had his insignia instead of the guardian box, was Red and had wings to fly) To search all over Paris for them (subtly), but the sentimonster came up short.

-It wasn't a bluff. They had left Paris.

-It infuriated him! Where could they be hiding? He knew the identity of one of them.

-"Perhaps they went to Shanghai? She does have a relative there."

-Gabriel noticed something, the mansion was... quiet.

-"Shouldn't Adrien be practicing Piano at this time?"

-He moved to his son's room and noticed it empty.

-"Adrien?"

-He looked around the room and noticed a letter on the bed.

-He read the letter.

Dear G, Nathalie and Father:

You likely noticed my sudden absence. I know how sudden it is and how frightened you must feel. I am alright. I am safe. I have decided to make a life for myself outside of being a model. I hope this doesn't give you the wrong idea, I am not leaving out of hatred or spite, quite the opposite. I am leaving because of love. I will keep in touch when I can, I will try and pop by every now and again. Thank you for everything.

Love,

Adrien Agreste

-Gabriel felt his brain snap after reading this. The only remaining part of his family had just... ran away? How did he not realize it?

-Gabriel decided the miraculous could wait, Right now, he needed to find his son!

_____________________________________________________________

-Anarke was concerned.

-"Its been a week and Luka hasn't set foot outside of his room."

-Juleka patted her mom's shoulder.

-"He... he is going through a lot mom."

-Luka had sat in his room, his mind was racing. It was his fault. Marinette's identity was exposed. He failed her. He tried to be there for her and he failed her.

-Luka knew even if she didn't say it, that look she gave him before leaving him on that rooftop, that was the end of any relationship they had. But that wasn't what concerned him, he put her in danger, which was FAR worse. She had to leave Paris. Her family, her friends, and everyone else to protect the city. He knew why and he couldn't tell anyone. This was the punishment he deserved.

-There was a knock on the door.

-It was surprising for him to see Adrien's girlfriend at the door, the fencer. Kagami.

-"I was told It was okay to come in."

-"Yea... its fine." Luka weakly muttered.

-"I imagine that the break up was just as painful for you. Your probably the only one that understands it."

-Luka blinked.

-"How did..."

-Kagami was holding a letter in his hands.

-"I didn't expect to get dumped by letter." Kagami confessed.

-Luka could hear the sorrow in her heartbeat.

-"I didn't think he would runaway with her." Kagami commented.

-That caught Luka off guard.

-"Wait what?" Luka blinked.

-"You didn't know? Our exes runaway together, like some sort of soap opera."

-"May I see that letter?" Luka asked.

-Kagami looked at him.

-"You didn't get your own?"

-"No, but I didn't deserve one."

-"Don't say that, Marinette was the one that..."

-"Im the reason she had to runaway."

-Kagami could see the tears forming in his eyes.

-She handed him the letter.

-Dear Kagami,

I wanted to do this in person, but there was really not much time. I caused you a lot of unnecessary stress and pain. I'm sorry for that. You were right, I keep hesitating, I keep being unsure of my actions. Even our relationship had you pushing and me receiving. It wasn't right that I let that go on. I think it would be best if we ended things here. I need to stop hesitating and do what I truly want. Thank you for showing me that.

Love,

Adrien

-Luka could tell that Kagami didn't know the truth, but Luka was able to figure it all out.

-Adrien Agreste was Chat noir.

-"Are you okay?"

-"No, but I will be."

-Luka felt himself calming down. He would help fix his mistake. By helping everyone hurt by it.

-"Know you aren't alone okay?" Luka spoke.

-Kagami turned to him. She had to admit, that was nice to hear after all of this.

-"Thanks."

_____________________________________________________________

-In the streets of Shanghai, a girl with straight dark brown hair, and a boy with black hair walk the streets. They were holding hands as they were taking a walk. A nice break from the restaurant they had been working as waiter's at.

-They took notice of a mugging happening in an alley way.

-The two looked at each other and smiled.

-A mouse and a snake Kwami pop out of their pockets.

_____________________________________________________________

(End of Part 4B)

#ml #ml what if #the runaway au #miraculous ladybug #ml au #slight lukagami #ladynoir #adrinette #angst #fluff #luka couffaine #kagami tsurugi #shadowmoth #luka learns the truth au #ml alt truth au #alt truth au

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richricciardo · 3 years ago

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(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ ||.|| New Kid||.|| ♥

Part 1

Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Reader

Warnings : A bit strange at times, Some cursing, some sadness and some fluff, a bit sexist and some protective Daniel.

Author Notes I Guess: English isn’t my first language so there mit be some mistakes but i tried to correct them! Also, this is my first post. So you probably won’t like it but if your looking at this and giving a chance, thanks.

Quick Résumé: Your a new driver and you mostly get judged for being there and your slightly disrespected. You’d realise in the meaning while, Daniel was the only one who was more gentle, and not rude like the rest of the drivers.

You’d woke up in the morning, knowing that you would be the only female driver there, most males will be shocked. You’d get off your bed, still a bit tired. Then you’d go to the bathroom, taking a nice warm shower before you’d go back in your room to changed into your outfit for the day. You’d live in a small formula one cabin with a bunch of males so, there would be a line of boys to wait after. Luckely, you’d get up early. Since, you knew most of them we’re a bit dramatic and would rush you. Except for Dan, he’d be a little more patient with you. Never the less, you weren’t hungry that morning, so you just took a coffe that morning.,

Max Versteppen glare’d at you as you took sips of your coffe, he was intimidating. You don’t really know if it was just you or he always looke’d a bit angry. Naturally, Daniel always seems to come to the rescue. He came close to the table you where sitting at.

“Hmm, ‘Y/N’, is he bothering you?”, he aske’d with a small concerned look. He’d skratch his neck.

“Does it look like she complaine’d?”, Max sat up from the table, staring down at Daniel.

“Not exactly, but it’s polite to ask.”, Daniel told him with a calm, soft voice. Like if Max could scare him. Max paye’d close attention. If he wasn’t so “Peaceful”, i’d dought he would leave Daniel alone.

By the end of the complaining, i already finished my coffe and i was ready to leave. I tried to just move my chair and leave without them noticing me, but of course, that din’t work. I knew Max saw me and glare’d at me while i left but din’t care to say a word. I took the bus to the station. Taking a few breaths, before you would enter the stadium. Of course, without any race cars, it felt empty and peaceful. You’d go sit at the edge, looking down at the track. You can already imagine having a good time. You din’t care what rank came up since racing was mostly your life, you din’t have much until you got initiated. If you din’t have this place, you’d be out on the streets and you knew that since you we’re an orphan. That was the only thing you din’t want anyone to know, not even your most trusted friend. You suddently heard the speakers ringing. It probably ment qualifies were in the next hour or so. It was probably 9 am by now, you’ve been here for at least 2 hours in a row, just thinking about your life before Formula 1 racing came to you. It’s amazing how a struggling orphan could end up here and maybe soon be a millionaire.

You suddently felt a small tip of a finger. You realise’d then that you had tears on you. You turn to see it was Daniel. He gave you a small tissue. You’d dry up your tears.

“How long have you been just standing there?”, you’d asked. You kinda we’re realising that no one showed respect here, except him. But you did wonder how long he waited there, he must have a good patience.

“As long as when you cried.”, he aswere’d you with a soft tone. “But im glad to see my presence cheered you up, just a small bit!”, he added with his soft classic smile.

“Yeah.”, your answer was short, but i belive he wouln’t mind. You we’re going to ask him something, but you we’re interupted when a load speaker suddently annouced the beginning of the qualification. He’d wanted to walk away, stopped himself and told me “good luck”, and left.

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You arrive’d to the somewhat garage, installing yourself into the car. You din’t care to speak to the crowd that was surrounding your formula one kart. You’d drift onto the track. You’d hear the roaring of your car, and the wheels we’re squeaking. Of’course you we’re precise with your movements and you we’re very calm. It took you a long while, but you arrived soon to the middle of the track. You’d drift easily, as if it was a Fiat. You soon ended up at the end of the track. Went back into the garage. You din’t think on talking to anyone. Mr.Hamilton came walking towards you.

He’d glared at you, in a shocked, kinda of stern voice; “Your lucky this time, kid. But you’ll never end up in 1st place ever again. And you won’t win during the race, i can confirm that.”

You rolled your eyes and walke’d pass him, you knew he din’t mean his words much at all. Your glare soon went to Mr.Ricciardo, he walke’d toward you in a rapid pase. He’d pat your hair.

“Good job”, he said shortly. He’d then add; “I’ve never seen any rookie be this good.”, he smile’d at you.

You trie’d to hide your blush, but you knew it was obvious he’d already seen it.

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

You arrived at the small cabin, knowing tomorow would be the day you’d be counted as a rookie or not.

#daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #aston martin f1 #red bull f1 #f1 #f1 drivers

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megalony · 3 years ago

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What belongs to me

This is a new Murderer! Ben Hardy imagine that someone requested a while ago and I’m sorry lovely I lost the request but I’m sure I’ve written what you wanted. It’s going to have a follow up part, I hope you all enjoy it, feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27

Murderer! Ben Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) tried her best to leave Ben behind her and move on with her life away from him, but deep down she knew he would never let her go. Especially not when she had something that belongs to him.

Enjoy

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

He'd found her.

She had been stupid enough to think that she was winning this game, that she had finally gotten the better of him. But Ben never lost and this was the proof of that.

Everything that Ben did was like a game to him. Going to a family event, he had to get the last word on a matter that he cared about, he had to be there first and could not be the last one to turn up. Going to work, he was the boss and if someone didn't do as he asked of them then he would punish them and it was a game to him. The longer someone evaded him, the more fun it became.

But this was a step too far for (Y/n). He was turning their breakup into a game, he had made it is mission to find her and now his men had finally found her. Ben was the kind of person who liked to keep tabs on people and they both knew that sooner or later, he was going to force (Y/n) to come back to him. She had taken the brave step of leaving him but it wasn't enough because Ben wasn't going to let her leave him just like that.

Ben did whatever he could to get what he wanted, he cheated, hurt and often murdered to get what he wanted and what he wanted right now, was (Y/n) back. He didn't care what he had to do even if he knew the more he tried, the more he was pushing her away.

Having his men follow her was something (Y/n) had gotten used to in their relationship but it was something she now feared since they had broken up.

(Y/n) feared that one day she would look over her shoulder and find one of Ben's men following her, keeping tabs on her and getting ready to pounce and bring her back to the Devil himself. So far she had done well in eluding him, she had gotten away and managed to stop herself from going back to him because she knew getting away was the right thing for her.

But now he had found her.

He had managed to get his men to find her and they weren't going to stop now they had finally caught a glimpse of her. Before, it didn't used to bother (Y/n) because Ben's men were following her to ensure her safety and because it was a dangerous world when involved with Ben. But now they were following her because Ben was possessive and he wanted to keep his grip on her.

The man who had found her had been hard to spot because it was the one person (Y/n) wouldn't suspect to see following her.

The one man who was closest to Ben. He hardly ever left Ben's side, he was like a loyal pet or a puppet whose strings had to be pulled for him to go or do anything. Seeing Joe here right now without his master was something (Y/n) hadn't expected.

But when his kind eyes latched onto hers, there was a look of sorrow in them that she couldn't take.

Three months (Y/n) had been out of his grasp, she had been away from him and had tried to carry on with the life she had before Ben but (Y/n) was finding that it was near impossible to do that. The life she had before him was boring. It was a life that was dull, calculated and predictable but when Ben walked into her life he changed it in so many ways it was hard to see straight.

(Y/n) knew getting away from him would be hard, but now she was realising that it was impossible.

She couldn't have left the country, this was her home and she didn't want to leave her friends and family behind. Getting a place of her own had taken some time so when she left Ben the only places she could immediately go to were either her sister's house or her best friend. Both of whom Ben knew and he knew where they lived.

But (Y/n) was sure that Ben didn't know where she lived now that she had gotten her own place. She had done it discretely and with the help of her sister, the apartment wasn't even in her name so Ben couldn't track her that way. She had gotten a new phone, was looking for a car of her own and for the first month she barely left her sister's house and when she did go out, she knew she hadn't been followed. (Y/n) went as far as to leave the house through the alley at the back of her sister's garden because she knew no one could be watching her if she left that way. Nor did she go to any of the usual places she normally did when she was with Ben and she had never once seen him or his henchmen following her.

He had found out.

Ben wouldn't send his right hand man to follow her unless he knew. He had sent flowers, letters, angry texts, loving texts and even threats to her sister's house telling (Y/n) in no uncertain terms that sooner or later he would get her back. Ben had never attempted to see her in the last three months and (Y/n) knew he was biding his time because when he lost his patience he was going to drag her back by her hair if he had to. He didn't let go of what was his and his possessive nature always got the better of him, it was his downfall and the reason (Y/n) left.

Now Ben's possessive side was taking over again because he had clearly sent his men out looking for her and now one of them had found her. He was always keeping and eye on her movements, who she saw and where she went when they were together and he clearly wanted to be back in those old habits. He was getting ready to pounce like a predator.

He was going to see her himself soon and there was only one explanation for that. He had found out what she was so desperately trying to keep secret from him.

"(Y/n), are you still with us?" A chuckle followed Serena's words as her head leaned in closer to her younger sister to try and get her back into the conversation at hand. It looked as if (Y/n) had become trapped in her head, lost in thoughts that were consuming her to the core.

"Yes- I, um... I'm sorry, I have to go."

"Go? We haven't even eaten yet, where do you have to rush off to?" There was a look of confusion in her mother's eyes but there was also sorrow and (Y/n) knew exactly where those emotions were coming from.

When (Y/n) had been with Ben she rushed off a lot to his beck and call, she didn't see her family as much because she wanted to be so wrapped up in Ben and consumed by him. She was always on edge waiting for him to call or text and they never got to do things like this, to just sit down and have lunch. When (Y/n) initially left Ben she wouldn't leave the house for the first month. Now they all finally had a chance to sit down together and have a meal and be like it was in the old times. But now she still had to speed off even when this was the first time they had sat down where (Y/n) wasn't panicking that Ben was going to barge through the doors and take her away.

"I can't do this."

"Dear, you'll be fine he won't come and get you. Just sit and have something to eat-"

"I'm not hungry... I'm sorry, I- I'll call you soon."

(Y/n) didn't have the energy to argue and she didn't have the time to hang around and explain or come up with a better excuse than this. She couldn't sit through dinner being smothered by her mother and sister who hadn't stopped since the moment she told them she had found the courage to leave Ben. They wanted to wrap her in cotton wool because they thought she was about to fall to pieces.

As much as she loved her family and how they were helping her, (Y/n) couldn't be babied any more than this and she couldn't have Ben's henchmen watching her and her family have dinner. If he wanted to follow her then he could do so but he had to know she wasn't going to go down without a fight.

She would rather have her family think that she was too afraid to be out in the open than to admit that one of Ben's men had found her.

(Y/n) slung her bag on her shoulder and headed out of the crowded cafe, feeling Joe's eyes burning into her as she passed and she knew he would wait an extra second before following her as not to make it look too suspicious.

(Y/n) didn't like this, she could never usually feel their presence when they were following her unless they were walking right beside her. All of Ben's men knew how to be ghosts, they knew how to follow her from a distance and be undetectable and (Y/n) preferred it like that. Ben always told her to forget they were even there and it was always so easy to do that. But right now, she could feel Joe quickening his pace to keep up with her, wondering where she was going and what she was going to do since he knew she had spotted him.

She didn't know what to do.

(Y/n) couldn't have Joe following her for the rest of the day, week month or even the rest of her life. She couldn't spend her time waiting for one or more of Ben's men to follow her as she bided her time until Ben finally appeared in the flesh.

Nor could (Y/n) carry on with her day when he was following her.

It had been far too good to be true to believe that she wasn't going to be followed or watched anymore after having three months of being free and trying to get her life back together. Ben would do anything to get her back and now he had found her today, he wasn't going to let her slip through his net again.

Finding a small abandoned street just off the main road, (Y/n) turned down it and leaned her back up against the brick wall on her right. Her arms folded over her chest and her brows rose as she watched Joe round the corner. He hung his head in momentary shame at the realisation that (Y/n) was waiting for him and she didn't look best pleased.

"Long time no see, eh, love?" The compassion in Joe's lopsided smile didn't quite reach his eyes that still held a sense of sorrow that frightened (Y/n). Joe knew more than she did, he knew why he was here following her today and he knew what Ben was up to and the sorrow in his eyes was clearly for her. That didn't give (Y/n) much confidence in what Ben was planning to do.

"What are you doing here, Joe? He let me be for three months before any of you found me, what's going on?"

There was no other way for (Y/n) to talk to Joe other than to dive right into the problem at hand. She had to know why he was here and what was happening, as much as Joe was an old friend to (Y/n), he still worked for Ben and therefore idle chit-chat wasn't going to work today.

"I'm under orders, (Y/n)... did you honestly think he would let you go without a fight? You may not think it but he loves you-"

"Oh I know he does, but I can't handle his ways of love anymore Joe. I can't take being followed and smothered and possessed like I'm his most favourite toy. Can you imagine how compressing and controlled it feels to be the thing Ben loves the most? It's not an honour, it's a sentence."

Ben's ideas of love were not normal.

At first, he made (Y/n) feel special. He made her feel different and prized and loved and the most important thing in the world to him and those views didn't change. She was all of those things to Ben and more, but after time, (Y/n) could see through the cracks. She could see that being Ben's most cherished and loved person in his life made her one of his possessions and if someone touched or threatened his possessions, he became nasty. Ben had to have complete control over everyone and everything that he owned and (Y/n) was no exception to that way of life when it came to Ben.

He had to know where she was, what she was doing, who she was going out with. He had to keep tabs on her and make sure she was okay and she had to be controlled by him. (Y/n)'s life was morphed into Ben's life and plans, she was under his influence and when that happened, no one could escape it.

Being loved by Ben was a prison sentence because there was no escaping his controlling nature, no matter how honourable it felt to be the thing Ben loves most.

"And can you imagine what he will do if he doesn't get back the thing he loves most? I know he made you feel like you were a toy that he owned, I know being guarded by us and controlled in what you can and can't do is not the way to live or be loved. But he changed when he was with you and he would do anything to get you to come back."

"But that should be my choice, not his. He can't choose when or if I come back Joe. I'm done with him, you have to tell him to stop this. I don't want you all following me, I don't need him to keep tabs if he wants me back he needs to let me go."

(Y/n)'s arms tightened over her chest as she felt like cowering back in fear even though she didn't feel afraid of Joe.

The only way Ben would gain her respect in wanting her back is if he let go of the control around (Y/n). He had to stop keeping tabs on her and trying to pull her back to him. If she could be herself and stop being afraid of Ben trying to get her back, she could live her life without him and then go back to Ben on her own terms if she wanted to. Dragging her back by the scruff of her hair was not going to make her want to stay.

"You know as well as I do that Ben does things his own way... he wants to see you." Joe shrugged his shoulders but the sorrow seemed to grow deeper in his dark hazel eyes.

"Well I don't want to see him."

The response was plain and simple but it wasn't coming straight from the heart because (Y/n)'s heart was fighting with her mind. Part of her was desperate to see him again, to see how he was coping and if he really had changed like she was praying he had. But the other half of her, the knowledgeable side knew that she couldn't see him again in fear of getting wrapped up in his web of control. Once she saw him, she was never going to get away and another chance of escaping Ben and his control was not going to come around very soon.

Especially not if Ben had found out what (Y/n) was dreading he had.

"I'm sorry to say that I don't think you'll have a choice, but... did you really think you had left him behind these last few months? A new flat in Serena's name and a new phone isn't going to keep you safe when you're keeping something valuable from him. I'll see you soon, (Y/n)."

"What? Joe, Joe! What do you mean?"

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

No, no no!

The moment (Y/n) turned on the lights in her apartment, violent shivers ran throughout her body and her chest tightened like someone was squeezing her lungs to try and make them pop.

Her hand stayed gripping the door handle with ferocity but her pupils darted all around the apartment like she was searching for a threat.

All along the floor of her flat from the front door right through the living room and she guessed round to the kitchen, were rose petals. Various sized blood red petals scattered the floor turning the grey vinyl into a river of blood that started to move from the small breeze the door created when it opened.

Ben truly had found her.

It wasn't just his men following her anymore, it was him knowing exactly where she was staying and trying to scare her back into his arms. Why couldn't he just listen to (Y/n)? All she wanted was for him to give her the space she needed. If Ben could show her that he would stop controlling her and trying to make her give in to him then she could give him another chance.

(Y/n) didn't know how to tell her heart to stop loving him but her mind was finding it easier and easier to despise him when he started being possessive and controlling like this. No matter how deeply she loved Ben, his dark side was what made her back away to try and save herself. But he never let her go. She was his. (Y/n) belonged to him because he loved her so deeply and passionately that he could let nothing take her away from him, not even his bad side. He pushed her away but pulled her straight back like he was toying with her because he wanted and had to do things his own way.

Trying to control her breaths so they weren't too loud, (Y/n) slowly tried to open the door again without making a sound but the moment she tried to open it, a voice cut through the silence.

"Where are you going baby, you just got here."

Such a lightheaded feeling came over (Y/n) she thought she was going to faint the moment she heard that voice. It was a low tone with a scratchy edge from trying too hard to be sickly sweet.

"Why are you here?"

(Y/n) tried to make her voice stern and hard but her voice cracked and she sounded frail instead. She could never manage to stand up to her lover, Ben always managed to overpower her in any kind of situation and he always made sure she knew it. The only time she ever got one over on him was when she managed to leave without him knowing what she was planning. He hadn't found her for three months and (Y/n) had been dumb enough to believe she may just have gotten out of his vice grip.

But here he was, showing her just how wrong she had been in thinking she had succeeded against him.

"Because you left. So I'm here to bring you back with me where you belong... and I wanted to see if it was true."

Ben slowly walked around the counter of the kitchen so he was standing in the middle of the apartment, basking in the light so (Y/n) could finally get a glimpse of him after three months of trying to forget he ever existed.

Sometimes, (Y/n) could picture him so perfectly it was as if he was stood in front of her like he was now. And sometimes, in the dead of night, (Y/n) couldn't see him properly when her mind started wandering to him. His eyes were never emerald green when she wanted to imagine them, she couldn't see his hair that fell in curls around his face. Nor could she imagine how much taller than her he was when they were standing together.

She thought it was better when she forgot, it was easier to try and push him out of her mind.

But now he was here, stalking towards her like a predator about to come and take it's prey.

(Y/n)'s hand was still prized around the door handle and when Ben was less than a metre away from her, he slowly reached out until his cold hand was resting tightly on top of her own. It was as if (Y/n) had become paralysed, her body back under his control as always. She let him guide her hand away from the door and allowed his body to get even closer to hers as he locked the door to ensure they wouldn't be disturbed and she wouldn't be leaving him again.

"See if what was true?" (Y/n) found herself whispering her question before she swallowed so loudly she was sure he heard and his lips curled into a sinister smile.

(Y/n) needed Ben to move away, she needed to unlock the door and either run out or shove him out the door since she lived here not him. But her heart was pounding so loudly against her chest she thought it was trying to reach Ben. She was yearning to be wrapped up in his arms again, but she knew that the moment she let that happen she would be walking back into his trap and she would never leave or have the courage to leave again.

"You've taken something that belongs to me, and you know no one gets away with that, not even you."

"Ben I don't know what-"

(Y/n) cut herself off with a shriek when Ben's hands suddenly clamped down on her hips so tightly she could feel his short nails piercing through into her skin. He was forceful in a way she knew meant he was angry with her even if he wasn't showing it. Using not even half of his weight, he pushed her until her back hit the door so harshly her hips started to ache and her spine cracked into place causing her to whimper.

Her body was pinned between the door and Ben's hard frame and her frightened eyes were pierced with his harsh green ones that were burning through right to her soul.

He was claiming her. Backing her up into the wall so she knew that he wasn't letting her go and he was hurting her because she had hurt him by leaving.

Tears started to fall from (Y/n)'s eyes when Ben crudely yanked her coat apart so forcefully a button popped off and went flying towards the kitchen. (Y/n) saw Ben's eyes lighting up as he made quick work of discarding her coat on the floor before his hands quickly moved to her jumper. He wasted no time in pulling it up and ripping it off her head and arms, revealing her rounded stomach and cleveage to his prying eyes.

"I fucking knew it." The words were whispered quietly under his breath but his tone frightened (Y/n) almost as much as the fact that he knew what she had been trying to hide.

She had been foolish.

Deep down, (Y/n) knew that there was no way she could hide her pregnancy from him forever. At some point he was going to see her out in the street with a prominent bump or a stroller or a child clinging to her hand. It was only a matter of time before one of his men spotted her and related the information back to Ben. But he had his suspicions just before (Y/n) had left him and she knew it.

But she thought that if she got away before he found out then she could raise this child without him.

What kind of life was this baby going to have when their father was a cold hearted killer?

Ben wasn't the fatherly type even though he had enough possessive love in his heart to love and look after a child. (Y/n) knew he wanted children but truthfully he wasn't the kind of person who should have children and she knew it. All (Y/n) wanted to do was do what was best for her baby and she knew that the best thing was to try and get away and do this on her own.

Doing it on her own would no longer be possible because Ben knew.

He would either make sure he was in their child's life or worse still, never let (Y/n) leave him and make them his version of a perfect family.

"Tell me, what made you think you could run off with something that belongs to me and get away with it?"

"What makes you think you own me or this baby?"

"It's my child-"

"No, it's my baby and if I want to leave and bring it up on my own then I have every right."

(Y/n) was the mother and she was carrying this baby, it was her decision if she wanted to leave Ben and do this alone and she had every right whereas Ben didn't. She didn't want a murderer bringing up her baby with her but she knew that now Ben had found out, he was never going to let her disappear with his child. This was his baby too and he was not the kind of man to let this sort of thing go, he wasn't going to give in and never see his child or not have an input in their life and upbringing.

Such a wicked, cackling laugh left Ben's lips and made (Y/n) shiver and cry harder. He never meant to make her feel down or worthless but sometimes he just couldn't help it. Ben pressed himself further against (Y/n) until his abdomen was touching her protruding stomach and his chest was pinned against hers. His hands moved back to gripping her lips as he looked down at her with a horrid grin.

"You're very naïve if you think you have any right in taking away what's mine. This is my baby, sweetheart, and I'm not letting either of you go again."

(Y/n) shivered when Ben's lips feverishly moulded over her own making the past three months diminish into nothing like they had never existed. Time apart seemed to have done nothing for the way (Y/n)'s heart truly felt about the monster standing in front of her because the moment his lips touched hers she could feel her heart speeding up and her mind screaming because she wanted him back.

But he wasn't going to let her go again.

His hands moved from her hips to her stomach, roaming over the expanding flesh of her stomach before he suddenly seemed to become impatient. His hips forced into her own that were already feeling bruised from how he was man-handling her. She could feel him pressing into her and his abdomen pushing harder on her stomach that was already hurting from the baby she was carrying.

His roaming hands shifted once again until he had both of (Y/n)'s wrists clenched tightly in his fist that he pinned up against the top of the door.

Usually when Ben was being forceful like this it made (Y/n) shiver and relish in the adrenaline he sparked in her system, but this was different. Ben wasn't being forceful and possessive in a loving, sexual manner. He was being possessive in a sense that told her she was not escaping him again. He was holding her as his captive, his prisoner and he was making sure she knew that he owned her, every part of her and he was not allowing her to leave him again no matter how hard she tried.

Another small whimper left (Y/n)'s lips that felt bruised with the way Ben was biting them like he wanted to devour them before his lips travelled south. They went from licking and nibbling her neck to sinking his teeth into her skin and pulling so hard that (Y/n) started to cry again. She could feel his tongue lightly going over the bruises he was creating as he kept kissing further down her neck and collar bone until he reached her cleavage.

Her chest started to quake and push further back against the door in a feeble attempt to pull away from Ben but it made no difference. He gripped her wrists tighter, rutted his hips into her aching ones and curled his free hand around her neck to show her she was weak and powerless when up against him.

(Y/n) was no stranger to Ben's punishments but when he punished her it was never in a physical way except for the one time he did choke her. But now he wasn't choking her, he was holding her neck tightly but allowing her to breathe. He was showing her that he was in control, he was letting her breathe simply because he wanted to and because he held that power and he could take her oxygen away at any given moment.

His nails dug into her throat that let out a few choked cries when he bit down on her breasts, already smirking against her skin at the marks he was leaving behind to show her who she belonged to.

A gasp of air left (Y/n)'s lips when Ben's hand tightened enough to cut off her oxygen for a few seconds before his hand moved again and scratched his nails down the side of her skin. He left bright red lines down her side and down her stomach but he smoothed the pad of his thumb against her stomach like he was showing her he wouldn't hurt her stomach in fear of hurting the baby.

All (Y/n) could do was cry when Ben's lips smothered her own again and his hand scratched her side and forcefully moved under the elastic of her leggings and underwear. Her lower abdomen shrunk inwards from the sudden touch to her delicate skin and her body shook when he scratched her again before be pulled her underwear down enough to fit his hand between her legs.

There wasn't even a chance for (Y/n) to tense her thighs and press her legs together because Ben's knee found its way between her legs and his whole body forced against hers so tightly (Y/n) could feel every vein and artery pulsing in her body. She wanted to move, to pull away and push Ben as far back as she could manage but all (Y/n) could do was cry and shift and jump against his touch that was switching constantly between gentle and very rough.

"Do you really want to leave me, baby? Cause I don't think you do, and you know I will always protect you both."

(Y/n) wanted to leave.

She knew it was safer to be away from Ben than it was to be with him when he was this possessive, destructive and unhinged. But at the same time, her heart was still head over heels in love with him and he always loved her even if that love was in a different, twisted kind of way. Ben was never going to let (Y/n) disappear or leave him when she was pregnant with his child. He would never allow that.

He would never let her go now.

#ben hardy #ben x reader #dad! ben #ben hardy imagine #murderer! ben #imagine

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ninliane · 4 years ago

Text

nekoma with foreign-exchange manager who isn’t fluent in japanese

i said i would write,,,,i try to write...

the language she speaks is up to you but she’ll be speaking english for now (just pretend its your language! personally im imagining filipino :D )

being a first-year at nekoma high had its perks

your foreign looks caught the attention of many people and some were shy to approach you, but not one tall boi^^

invited by your classmate lev, you have now been the manager for a first couple of months and it was going great!

you always got along with everyone: helped the seniors keep everyone in control, be efficient in tracking their progress, and helping their younger ones with their pass drills

you guys lost at the inter-high best eight but the summer camp was soon so you were determined to make the most out of it

you made friends with the regulars on the team and you guys would go out and eat at the conbini near the school

it was at this moment where kuroo had treated the team to snacks from the tiny shops. the nekoma team talking outside as they ate,

“That reminds me, how did you guys do in the english test?” Lev asked Shibayama and Inoka.

“I did average, there was a lot of sentence construction this time.” Shibayama responded taking a bite out of a meat bun.

“I focused on vocabulary,” Inoka cheekily admitted then turned back to grin at his classmate, “But Teshiro-san got perfect as always, and (y/n)-san is fluent!”

“Just study, it isn’t that hard...” Teshiro closed his drink. “Or have (y/n)-san tutor you.”

“I could...” you thought about it, “but...”

Kuroo started laughing, “That’s true, (y/n)-chan is good in english, but sometimes her japanese gets mixed up in the translation.”

You playfully roll your eyes, “Haha, very funny captain.”

Yamamoto laughed, “One time she said, ‘Where is my ‘ramen’?’ in the funniest accent ever! The cook looked at her and tried not to laugh.”

“I apologized after!” you laughed.

“Oh! One time she asked me if she could borrow my notebook and she forgot the word for notes and she ended up just saying notebook in english in front of the whole class!” Lev laughed.

The group and yourself laughed at your poor attempts once more.

“When we were practicing volleyball she started to stumble on her words because she forgot how to ask coach to go over her notes so I had to do it.” Yaku chuckled.

“Coach must’ve been confused,” Inoka chimed in.

“And another ti-”

“OKAY ENOUGH!” you yelled, throwing down your meat bun on the street. The team jolted at your loud reaction and immediately went quiet, their eyes widened at the sudden action. “You try speaking in a different language than japanese! Do you even know how frustrating it is for me to translate every single thing in my head before I say it?! How I manage to keep an all boys japanese team running for nationals in my third language?!”

“(y/n)-chan, don’t get so offended...” Kuroo rubbed the back in his head, “We were just playing around. Chill.”

“Chill?” you widened your eyes and thats when Kuroo regretted his words. You frowned and put your hand on your hips, firing what seemed to be your first language at him, “Chill?! The worst thing you can say to a woman! Men are all the same...! They just act however they want and expect a way to get out of it by saying it’s just a joke, and they expect us to be okay with it?! Like we are the ones at fault?”

Your first language being yelled out loud was intimidating for them because they had no idea what you were saying. You then reverted back to Japanese as you grabbed your bag and walked past them, “Men are all animals!”

At that moment Kenma had walked out of the convenience store holding a cup of ramen. He noticed you walking by and said a small greeting.

“Oh hey (y/n),”

“ANIMAL!” you pointed at him without stopping and continued to walk.

Kenma scrunched his face at you then at his team. “What did you guys say to her?”

The day after you had mostly let the thing pass and felt a little bad for yelling at them, but it was cute how they all awkwardly shuffled up to you in practice individually, apologizing for what they said. And they made a mental note to help you out whenever you needed translation.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyu #haikyu!#nekoma #nekoma x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #yaku morisuke x reader #lev haiba x reader #kozume kenma x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines

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shoutaaizawas · 4 years ago

Note

Jordan...I think you know what i'm requesting for. 👀I would like to request a disneyland date w/ aizawa please! However long you like, and whatever style you prefer (hc, drabble, scenarios etc.), I'll love it in whatever form. You're writing is amazing as always, tysm~ 💗🌙

this was an absolute delight to write, it gave me all the serotonin but also made me miss disneyland. im gonna go through my photos from my trips now lol thank you for this

↳ aizawa shouta x reader → ❝disneyland❞

summary: your boyfriend aizawa takes you on a date to your favorite place word count: 1.9k+ tags/warnings: fluff, disneyland a/n: if you want some song recommendations for this married life from up and i see the light from tangled (it’s mentioned in the story so playing it there would be the perfect timing)

masterlist

For someone who seemed so indifferent, Aizawa was very invested in you, and the things that made you happy. That’s how you ended up at your favorite place on earth for what you could already tell would be a perfect day.

The two of you were at Disneyland and Aizawa knew exactly how you liked to spend the day there. You got there before park opening, getting beignets at Downtown Disney for breakfast. A terrible sugary fried dough that was not a balanced breakfast but did it matter? You were at Disneyland. You laughed at Aizawa as he took a bite trying to avoid getting the powdered sugar on his black shirt. He failed but that gave you an excuse to brush the sugar off his chest.

Waiting in line to enter the park always left you with that giddy feeling in your stomach. Walking in through Main Street, music playing and the scent of fresh popcorn and cookies in the air you looked at Aizawa asking him what he wanted to do first.

“Space mountain?” He asked. “If we get there fast enough there won’t be a line.”

“I love your mind.” You said before you grabbed his hand and took off running towards the ride. Tomorrowland was always a fun place to start, and after you hit space mountain you could go on the smaller rides there.

“Okay, but what are we doing for the photo?” You asked walking through the hallways into the loading dock for the ride.

“Hmm.” He said. You always had to plan for a pose for the photo in the ride. Aizawa didn’t care but he always indulged your ideas. “Can’t think of anything.” He said.

Aizawa was a liar. As you got to the spot where the picture was taken, which both of you knew well, he grabbed your face pulling you in for a kiss. By the time you got to the screens where the photo showed you were laughing at how shocked and flustered you looked.

Of course, you got a copy of the photo.

After Space Mountain, the two of you made your ways to Star Tours then after that Buzz Lightyear’s Astro Blasters. The two of you always had a fun time on it. The ride was both a ride and a game where you shot a laser gun at targets. No matter how hard you tried you could never beat his high score. Today was not an exception.

You were starting to think he was cheating, how was it even possible to get a score that high. And he was so indifferent about it. You gave him a hard time about his score as you exited the ride.

“It just doesn’t make sense how you’re that good.” You whined.

“I don’t know what to tell you.” He replied taking your hand in his as you returned to the more crowded area of Tomorrowland.

“It’s not fair.” You said your thumb absentmindedly rubbing against the back of his hand.

“Do you want to go to Matterhorn or Thunder Mountain next?” He asked.

“Hmm, Matterhorn is closer.” You said. He nodded and headed in that direction leading you through all the people. You passed the water of the Nemo ride, watching as the submarines went by.

As you approached Matterhorn you could hear the rattle of the carts going by and people screaming. The sound got you excited for the next ride. The polka music playing as you lined up in the queue.

Matterhorn was one of your favorites even if Aizawa complained about how much it threw you around.

“I think it threw my back out of place.” He complained rubbing his shoulder.

“Aww, baby.” You cooed, walking behind him and rubbing his shoulders. “Maybe if we go on it again it will put it back?”

“I’d rather not take my chances.” He said rolling his eyes at your joke.

“Can I get you some popcorn to make it up to you?” You said, leaning up to press your cheek against his as you continued to rub his back.

“Maybe.” He said.

Popcorn made every line better no matter the wait time. The sun was high in the sky as the two of you crossed through Fantasyland into the back way to Frontierland. You passed by the track of the roller coaster Thunder Mountain, the train car coaster flying past into the intricate desert mountain architecture. You looked at Aizawa excited as you made your way to the queue, snacking on popcorn as you waited.

After Thunder Mountain you went on to Pirates of the Caribbean, appreciating the scent of the water that was so unique to Disneyland. On the ride you found Aizawa’s head resting against your shoulder, you couldn’t blame him it was dark and cool. The perfect nap spot. Since the boat ride was so long it left you with a good amount of time to do so. Not that Aizawa needed any of those luxuries.

Once you were off the ride Aizawa was looking refreshed after his power nap so it was time for you to drag him to his least favorite ride. Splash Mountain.

Aizawa was a brave man, there was no question about it. If he was Superman, Splash Mountain was his kryptonite. He hated the ride, there was something about the drop at the end that he could not handle. This didn’t mean he wouldn’t go on it but he suffered through it every time. All it took was one puppy-eyed look and he was getting in line with a sigh.

On the ride you took the front seat happily as Aizawa sat behind you, holding onto your waist for dear life despite the fact that you hadn’t even left the loading dock.

The ride floated through the log flume as you moved through the different scenery. As it went inside with all the animatronics you danced along with the song humming as you did. The ride went further and the song got menacing as the log began to climb up to the top of the drop. Aizawa now had his head buried into your shoulder as the light got closer.

Once you reached the top you enjoyed the brief view of Disneyland before it plummeted to the bottom, water spraying you as you laughed.

“I hate that.” You heard Aizawa mumble into your shoulder.

As the two of you climbed out he grumbled about how much he hated wet socks as you walked out of the ride. You couldn’t help but snap a photo of the photo the ride took. Your smiling face with Aizawa’s hair covering your shoulder was too good to pass up.

In your gratitude you took Aizawa to his favorite food spot in the park, the clam chowder at Disneyland was amazing and you could never resist. You were able to dry off as you ate and Aizawa looked much happier after eating.

Indiana Jones was the next stop, always an exciting ride and one that didn’t torture Aizawa. In fact, you thought it might be his favorite ride, not that he ever admitted to having a particular favorite. He claimed he liked all the rides, Splash Mountain excluded.

Once you were off that you spent the rest of the day on the smaller rides that didn’t have as long of lines.

The sun began to sink into the horizon and lights began to go on. Disneyland at night was nearly another place. The perfect lighting throughout the park was such an experience.

Finally, the event of the night was here, the fireworks. Now, most people went for the spot in front of the castle to watch it. Which was a good place but it was always very crowded and you had to go early to get a spot which wasted a lot of time you could spend on rides.

The best spot was in Fantasyland, by the carousel. You could watch the fireworks from behind the castle and there were never too many people there. You stood next to Aizawa, Fantasyland was pretty much empty other than a few people in line for Dumbo. The carousel stood in front of you but it was closed during the fireworks.

Aizawa’s right arm was wrapped around you holding you close to his side. You leaned your head against his shoulder as the fireworks began. Music played and fireworks lit up the sky.

You watched in awe at the display, it didn’t matter how many times you had seen it before it was always so beautiful. A familiar song began, I See the Light from Tangled. That song always managed to make you tear up. You were so engrossed in the moment that you didn’t pay any attention Aizawa touching your hand.

That was until you felt cold metal against your finger. You looked down curious what was happening only to see a ring on your left hand. You stared at it trying to understand if what you thought was happening was really happening right now.

Looking up to Aizawa you saw an unfamiliar expression on his face, something between nervousness and excitement. Your eyes teared up, the fireworks around you, the music swelling to the peak of the song, the ring on your finger asking you a question you understood far too well.

“S-Shouta are you?” You questioned.

“Will you marry me?” He asked, his words so heartfelt only pushing more tears from your eyes.

“Y-Yes,” You answered. “Of course!”

Aizawa leaned down, one hand on your cheek and the other around your shoulders as he kissed you.

You loved Aizawa and there was no question in your mind what your answer would be to him. There was no one else you could imagine spending the rest of your life with.

Disneyland was a great place for him to propose at and the way he had done it was literally perfect. The perfect setting and timing not to mention it was subtle but more meaningful than anything else could be.

You loved going to Disneyland with Aizawa.

It’s the way you hold hands through the crowds so he doesn’t lose you and how even when you are out of the crowd he still holds your hand. How he holds you from behind while you're in line, resting his head on your shoulder. That small smirk he gives you at the end of a ride when you look over at him with a big, excited smile. It’s sharing a pretzel, tearing off a piece of the bread and dipping it in the nacho cheese before stuffing it in his mouth for him. It’s how romantic it feels to walk together through the chilly night with the lights glowing perfectly around you.

There was no better way to spend a day with your boyfriend- no your fiance.

After the fireworks most of the crowds left, you took advantage of this going on all the popular rides again while there was no line. Once it got late, the park began to close and you both began to walk out through Main Street, the piano music filling the street like a goodbye.

“Do you want anything?” Aizawa asked gesturing to the gift shops.

“I think I have the best souvenir I could ask for after today.” You said holding up your left hand to him with a smile.

Aizawa smiled back taking your hand in his again, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s go home, princess.” He said teasingly.

taglist: @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis-but-more-otaku @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bkglovesyou @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia @moon-write @todominica @why-so-red @kvichisaki

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #bnha x reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader #my writing #filmsnroses

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

Note

98. I’ve been hired to kill you, but you don’t seem that concerned???

Super/vigilante/mercenary au? I feel like it would be really cool if one of them has known the other’s secret identity for a while but doesn’t have anything against them. The two have also been becoming /close/ friends with mutual pining, so the hit is actually just a good excuse to reveal their identity before asking them out. Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go! I tried to work in as much of this as I could

Content warning for mentions of guns and mentions of death

It’s a dark and stormy night, because of course it fucking is.

Indrid steers the borrowed car down the street, rain hammering the car while his heart tries chiseling it’s way from his chest. He doesn’t want to be here, circling the block like a shark on a reef, the light from the top floor, left corner of the apartment building telling him there’s no pretending his prey isn’t home. He doesn’t want to think about the instructions he burned, the lethal object hidden in his clothes.

He doesn’t want to kill Duck Newton.

“Excuse me, but I have a rather odd question; which of these trails is the least traveled?”

The ranger looks up from the map between them, grin friendly and a little lopsided, “Lookin to do some birdwatchin or somethin?”

“I like to draw but I, ah, I also get easily overwhelmed by crowds.”

“Try this one” The man circles a trailhead, “not super popular this time of year. Watch out for mud.”

“I shall, thank you.”

He didn’t.

Which is why he’s back in the visitor center, trying to get enough of the mud off so that driving home isn’t miserable. Worse, the ranger from earlier walks in, takes one look at him, and snickers.

“I tried! Truly, I was careful, but there was this-”

“Patch of stones in the trail?”

“...Yes. How did you know?”

“Fell flat on my ass two days ago thanks to them. Wait here a sec.” The door swings shut, then opens again while Indrid is rinsing mud from his glasses. The ranger holds out a packet of body wipes, “this’ll get the worst of it.”

“Thank you ranger...Newton.”

That same smile, reaching a pair of mismatched eyes, “Just call me Duck. It’s a nickname.”

Indrid parks in a spot far from any streetlights or cameras, pulls the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and starts towards the apartment complex.

“These are fascinating.” Indrid peers over the edge of the dock at the early blooming bulbs.

“Glad you like ‘em, thought they might be alley after you showed me those drawings of the marsh.”

He imagines Duck seeing the flowers on his rounds and thinking not of the seasons, the weather, the way their petals look near the water, but of him. It’s the sweetest thought anyone’s ever spared for him.

The lobby door opens easily, courtesy of the copy of the keycard left in his mailbox. He knows he should take the stairs; fewer people use them.

He calls the elevator.

“Duck? The sign on the door is, that’s just temporary right?”

“Nope.” Duck sets his hat on the counter, runs a hand right through the grey streak in his hair, “they’re closin the whole park until further notice, which is probably gonna be never. Laid all of us off.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay.”

Even Indrid could tell it wasn’t. That from their occasional conversations, Duck’s work was akin to his heart, kept life flowing through him on even the roughest days. The assignment had told him not to worry, that he was almost doing his target a favor, ending a life he wanted over anyway.

Indrid knocks on the door, tossing his options about in his mind as slow footsteps approach. He could do what he was sent here for. Or he could offer Duck Newton something to brighten his days.

The door opens, Duck standing there in boxers, a plain white t-shirt, and a confused expression.

“Indrid? Jesus, come in, you're fuckin soaked. This is some storm.”

“At least it will help with the drought.” Indrid closes the door, slips off his shoes, lets Duck take his sweatshirt to hang near the heater, angling his body so he won’t see or feel the handgun tucked in his waistband.

“Yeah. Assumin it don’t just mudslide all the hills that lost their cover durin fire season.” Duck sighs, plops down on the couch, “sorry, ain’t exactly in a chipper mood.”

“That’s sort of why I came to see you. I, ah, I wanted to see how you were getting on after the park closing.”

Duck gestures to the messy apartment, then at himself.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not unless you got enough money to reopen the park indefinitely.”

He chuckles, “I wish I did.” He picks up a small, wooden ship, “goodness, did you make this?”

“Yep. Know it’s an old man hobby but, uh, I dunno. I just like makin stuff. Putting things into the world, even if it’s just a model ship on the shelf or a mint plant on the windowsill.” His smile is tired, but there’s a determination to it that makes up Indrid’s mind for him. He’s about to make his offer when Duck adds, “mind grabbin me some water since you’re closer to the kitchen? Cups are in the middle cabinet.”

“Of course.” Indrid crosses into the small kitchen, mind wandering to what their first date will entail as he sets his hands on two glasses.

The cold metal at the base of his neck hurtles him back to earth.

“Someone set you up, slim.”

“I, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Duck’s hand goes instantly to Indrid’s gun, pulling it free and tossing it away before roughly patting him up and down. The barrel on his skin never wavers.

“Duck, please, I, I can explain.”

“No need to. Thought you seemed familiar, went diggin and found out who you work for. Bet you thought I hadn’t seen your nine mil, but I ain’t lived this long by bein careless.”

“I don’t understand. The file they gave me didn’t say anything about this.”

A bitter chuckle, “Wasn’t always a ranger, slim. The fact they didn’t tell you that makes me think they’re hopin I off you, not the other way around.”

“But, but I didn’t do anything.” The crack in his voice is why he was never cut out for this, he told them that, over and over again.

“And you ain’t gonna.”

“Duck please I, I wasn’t going to do what they told me.”

“If your bosses are who I think, then helpin me would be a goddamn death wish on your part.”

“It would have been worth it. One date with you would have been worth whatever they did to me if they caught me after I ran.”

“That’s mighty funny” the barrel disappears, and the ghost of a kiss takes it’s place, “I was busy weighing whether askin you out was worth the risk of gettin shot.”

Duck sets the Glock on the counter as Indrid slumps against it, turning to find the ranger watching him carefully.

“What do we do now?” He sort of wants him to kiss him, sort of wants to storm out and find whoever thought he could be gotten rid of so easily.

“I say we-” Duck freezes as three, sharp knocks come from the door. He crouches to the floor, Indrid following him. The ranger grabs Indrid’s gun from the floor, whispers, “stay put, follow my lead.” Then he calls, “who is it?”

“I have a package for you to sign for, Mr. Newton.”

“Be right there. Actually” he lowers his voice slightly, “uh, Indrid, you’re right by the door, could you-”

The shot breaks the wood right where Indrid’s head would be. Duck fires two shots, both of them sighing when there’s a tell-tale thump of body meeting carpet.

“Glad yours had the silencer. Buys us some time, but someone is bound to come outta their apartment eventually and find the fucker.”

“Our hitmen also have to report completion within a certain time frame or back-up is sent. And no, I can’t do it for him, it has to be voice contact.” Indrid stands, calmer than a moment ago; this part he knows.

“Good to know. In that case, slim,” he raises an eyebrow, “think it’s time you and I take a vacation.”

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

“You really got no clue what they’re after you for?” Duck winds them along highway 50 as the sun peers anxiously over the horizon.

“None.” Indrid fishes out the roll of mini doughnuts he bought near Donner Lake, the first place Duck had deemed safe to stop since they left the coast. They’re in his car, Indrid knowing full well the one he borrowed has a tracking device installed, “I’m mostly a numbers man; they give me scenarios and I give them likely outcomes. I, ah, I also helped with clean up, but I suspect they did that when they were annoyed I’d given them what they thought was an inaccurate prediction. I don’t like the aftermath of disasters, even if they’re small. And I was never, ever assigned a hit until last night” He worries a hangnail, “I thought they were satisfied with my work. Even if they weren’t, they could easily do away with me. There was no point in sending me on a fake mission and hoping you’d kill me instead.”

“Unless they got something against me too, which they could.” Duck drums on the wheel, “I, uh, I joined a, uh, guess you’d call ‘em a vigilante group when I was younger. I was eighteen and they recruited me, sayin how there were certain folks who were chosen to protect the world from evil. I avoided it for a few years, but they were persistent, and honestly I thought I could make a difference. That we were just protectin folks who the system didn’t. And we did. Kinda.”

Indrid offers him a doughnut, which he takes and chews before continuing

“Trouble was, not everyone agreed on who needed protectin. It got so convoluted and so goddamn dangerous that I decided I wanted out. Wanted to spend the rest of my life makin things grow, lookin out for the woods, that kinda thing. It almost worked. But if I could go back in time to talk to that kid, I’d tell ‘im there are enemies you can’t unmake, things you can’t undo.”

“Very true.” Indrid murmurs, “I suppose I’d tell myself I did not blame him for throwing in with who he had to in order to survive.”

“Pretty sure that’s what you’re doin’ now, too.”

“No.” Indrid shakes his head, “right now I am on the run with someone I like a great deal.”

Duck flashes him a smile, flips the blinker to turn them into the only sign of civilization for miles; a cluster of buildings calling itself Cold Springs Station. The groggy teen at the counter gives them the key to a cramped cabin.

Indrid tosses his bag--the one he hid in the trunk of the borrowed car, knowing the likely outcome of his visit would involve flight of some kind--down on the right side of the bed, Duck doing the same on the left. It’s only when they’re under the covers, both half-asleep, that he notices he forgot something.

“Drat. I meant to stick something plush in my bag. I, ah” he blushes, “I sleep much better with something to cuddle.”

A strong arm drapes over his waist while Duck tucks his head under Indrid’s head, “how’s that?”

Indrid winds his limbs around him, feeling like a little kid who’s just had his favorite teddy bear returned to him after hours of tearful searching, “perfect.”

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

The plan is to weave through the Southwest like a drunk bee before turning North; they need to put off visiting any places with friends or family for as long as they can. They spent a morning on the floor of a run down motel with a map and some pens, marking off the safest routes and places they’d like to visit. Duck picks state parks, Indrid any place likely to have lots of sweet food.

Whenever they stop for the night, they never bother asking for two beds. While they’ve yet to go further, Indrid delights in waking Duck with a kiss on the cheek each morning.

On the Nevada border Indrid spends two hours playing Blackjack, counting cards enough to win several thousand dollars but not enough to get caught. In a pizza place outside of Salt Lake, Duck wins Indrid a stuffed mothman from a claw machine (“just in case you gotta sleep alone some time��).

And fifty miles from Alamogordo, they get into trouble.

Indrid carries his weapon near constantly, but he really didn’t think he needed it at the Motel 6 Breakfast Buffet. When the man waiting for the waffle maker next to him says “outside, Cold, let’s get this over with” he goes still, wishing they’d at least given him time to eat.

Then he hurls his scalding mocha into the man’s face, striking him in the ribs and breaking his nose before he even hits the floor. Orange and red liquid splashes his face, two shots hitting the juice dispenser behind him. The other two assassins don’t get a second chance to fire; Duck takes out one with a chair, jabs the other with the splintered leg, and gathers both their guns with an ease that Indrid admires.

As they’re sprinting for the parking lot, Indrid slapping an extra two hundred dollars on the lobby desk in apology, he realizes admiration doesn’t quite capture his feelings. Duck is so calm in the face of danger, so commanding, and so very, very...hot.

The moment he allows himself that thought is the moment he dooms his focus for the remainder of the day. He contributes to the planning of their next stop, to driving and watching the mirror for cars that follow for too long, but his mind is back in the dining room, hoping Duck will turn the fire in his eyes onto Indrid, bend him over the beige table and take him while the people who tried to hurt them whimper and bleed on the floor.

“‘Drid? I’m gonna go shower, didn’t get a chance this mornin. You wanna scope out dinner?”

“Of course, but I fear it might be the vending machine special again.”

“Eh, I can live with that, especially if they got those Oreo packets.” Duck blows him a kiss and shuts the bathroom door.

Duck’s showers are between five and six minutes in length; Indrid’s certain he can get himself off in that time. He slips his pajama pants down, spits in his hand, and pretends the fingers pressing on his neck are not his own. That Duck’s voice is in his ear the same way it was that first night, low and so firm Indrid has no choice but to bend.

“You droppin hints, slim?” Duck leans in the bathroom doorway, towel around his waist.

He bolts upright, pants tangled around his knees, “Nono, I’m, I’m so sorry, I thought you were going to be a few minutes more.”

“Wanted to shave and forgot my dop kit. Now I’m kinda disappointed that I was gonna miss the show.”

“I, ah, I, it doesn’t bother you?”

“Thought we established we were into each other.” Duck’s smile falters, “wait, fuck, if you decided you ain’t I’ll back the fuck off.”

“No!” Indrid crawls to the edge of the bed nearest Duck, not caring how silly he must look, “it’s the opposite, I want you even more now than I did when we started this trip. After this morning I--ah, never mind. The point is, I would very much like to get you into bed sooner rather than later.”

“How about now?”

“Only if you…” Indrid’s brain screeches to a stop as Duck drops his towel. Now he understands where the urge to create phallic sculptures comes from; he wants to preserve this sight for all time.

“Glad you approve.” Duck chuckles, joins him on the bed, “gotta say the, uh, feelin’s mutual.” He slides a hand along Indrid’s dick, gone soft from his alarm, and lets out an approving groan as it hardens against his palm, “that’s it, sugar, get excited for me.”

“If I get any more excited I will explode.”

“Can’t have that, it’s a pain to clean blood off of walls by yourself” a kiss finds his cheek, “you got a preference for how we do this?”

“I, I’d like to, ah, receive. At least for tonight. Is that alright?”

“Hell yeah.” Duck growls, abandoning him on the bed and laughing when he whines, “gimme two seconds, slim, then I’ll take care of you.” Two condoms and a small bottle of lube bonk into Indrid’s foot, “packed those just in case. You’re gonna get one of ‘em out and open yourself up for me while tellin me just what got you so riled up. Shirt off, c’mon, get to it.”

The gruff tone means Indrid is blushing on every inch of skin by the time he’s fully naked. As Duck’s gaze moves over him, all traces of dominance wash away, leaving expression tender when their eyes finally meet.

“Christ, ‘Drid, you look better than ever coulda pictured. Shoulda been bookin more places with pools just to get you shirtless.”

“It’s January, dear.”

“Hot tubs, then.” Duck nudges him onto his back by kissing his shoulder, and the sight of the ranger above him reminds Indrid’s fingers what they should be doing. He fumbles the condom open, gasps when one digit feels like a massive intrusion.

“Easy slim, easy, you’re probably still tense from this mornin.”

“I thought that much was obvious.” Indrid grins as Duck bends to kiss his collarbone.

“It is, so start tellin me what got you so horny you jerked off the first free second you had.”

“It’s a, a bit embarrassing OH, ohthat'snice” he sighs as Duck kisses a slow trail towards his hips, “but I find the moments when you demonstrate a certain...ruthlessness in-incredibly arousing.” He wiggles his hips happily as Duck drags his lips across his belly.

“Keep goin.”

“You’re brave, and calm even when things are awful, and that makes me feel so very safe with you. But then there are those times when I remember how dangerous you could be, AHnnn” the second finger goes in easier than the first, “that when it, it comes down to it you are more seasoned in lethal matters than I am and I, you could render me utterly helpless, have me, use me, hurt me, but instead you offer me more tenderness than I deserve.” He glances down to where Duck’s chin rests on his chest, the ranger’s eyes overflowing with affection.

“You want the gentle me or the rough one tonight?” Duck tucks a strand of Indrid’s silver hair behind his ear.

“Rough.” It’s so quiet he’s amazed Duck hears it.

“Okay. In that case-”

“AHgod!” Indrid’s hand is pulled free as Duck first flips him over and then hauls him onto his knees.

“Hands on the wall. Now.”

Indrid sets his palms on peeling grey paint as foil crinkles behind him. When the head of Duck’s cock rubs his entrance he whimpers, hoping the prep was enough.

“Here’s how this is gonna go; I’m gonna use this cute little ass however long and however hard I want, and you;re gonna keep your hands there the whole fuckin time. You move, or you mouth off, and I shove some fingers in along with my dick just to remind you who’s boss.”

“Ohhhhhyes” Indrid rests his forehead on the wall.

“It gets to be too much, say stop.” A kiss to his neck, “much as I wanna ruin you, wanna be good to you even more.”

“Understood. Now please, please fuck meEEEh, ohgoodnessAH, ahhhgod.” He scratches the wall as Duck stretches him open, the prep proving enough but only just and tears pricking his eyes by the time Duck bottoms out.

One hand stays on his hip while Duck’s right arm wraps around his chest, keeping them close, “Fuuuck, now I see what your job was; ass this nice, you were the fuckin cocksleeve for the entire Organization, weren’t you?”

“Not at all” Indrid rolls his hips at the taunt in Duck’s voice, “I was a very valuable asset.”

“Yeah, I’ll say you’re an asset.” A sharp thrust, the menace of which is broken by Duck giggling at his own joke, Indrid hiding his face in his arm to do the same.

“I say in, ahgod, an office all day, no one saw me, I was not h-hired for my looks, I promise you.”

“If you say so. I say it’s their. Fuckin. Loss.” Three thrusts and Indrid’s cock is dripping onto the pillows, and he moans as Duck settles into a demanding rhythm.

“Got another theory for you, slim.”

“D-do tell.” Whether the stammering is from his teeth clacking together or his thoughts being bounced around his brain from the force of Duck pounding into him, he can’t say.

“I think you stuck around as long as you did because you get off on it danger.”

Indrid sucks in a breath, whimpers, “No. I, I was there because I was apprenticed out and, as you knowOH it’s, it’s hard to leave such places.”

Fingers on his throat, pressing but not squeezing, “Liar. Bet you got off at least once a day, let everyone from the hired hits to higher ups cum in you as long as they made you think they could off someone. Oh fuck, heh, you like that?” Duck smirks as Indrid tries to fuck himself in time with the pumps of his hips.

“Yes, goodness, I’d never want it, only want you, but, but the idea is divine.”

“Too bad, because now you’re all mine and anyone who tries to take you is gonna be in for a world of hurt.”

His climax curls in his stomach, begging him to touch himself and free it, but he’s determined to be good.

“Duck, please let me cum, please, it’s so good but I can’t-”

“I’ll help you out sugar, don’t worry. But you gotta do one thing first.” Duck nips his ear, “say you’re my personal toy from now on. C’mon” the fingers on his throat tighten, “say i-”

“I’m yours, I’m your toy, only you can have me, you can do whatever you wish to me and I’ll take it with a smile, anything, sweetheart, please, pleasepleasepleaseAHhhhn.” His cum splatters on the wall, Duck’s hand leaving his dick the instant it does to dig his fingers into both hips and fuck up into him with ecstatic groans.

“That’s it sugar, take it, be good for me and lemme fuck you until you can’t move, ohfuck, fuck, ‘Drid, yes, fuckyes.” He holds him tight as he cums, breath warm against his back. Then he’s pulling out and slumping forward as Indrid falls back into his arms.

“Ooops” he snickers, spotting the cum, “still easier to clean than blood.”

“Indeed.” Indrid bites his lip, “I, that was wonderful but there’s one thing more I would like. Will you kiss me.” He looks over his shoulder to say it. Duck cups his face, turns it so he can bring their lips together. It’s far slower and twice as tender as anything else they’ve done together.

“Can’t believe I forgot to do that until now. Gonna kiss you silly.” Duck kisses him again as Indrid turns in his lap. When he pulls back, his face is serious, “Y’know, it’s easy to be brave and calm when I’m doin’ it for you. You make me feel like I can face any goddamn thing, long as it’s for your sake. That make sense?”

Indrid studies his face in the half-shaded light from the bedside lamp, sees the curves and colors, sees the man he was willing to run away for.

“Yes, sweetheart, it does.”

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #meet ugly #hitman au #I guess?#assassin au

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Aftermath)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is about 17 or 18; i cried while writing this. sorry this is really long!!! pls forgive me 🥺

prompt: takes place from a3 to smffh

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Intense Years (3) Continued (5)

let’s start on a happy note! ahahah

so for a while, earth was calm

you, pepper, and tony got to be a family for a while

wedding planning!

of course you got to try the ben&jerry’s ice cream named after your dad: Stark Raving Hazelnuts

“it’s not fair that you got ice cream named after you and i didn’t”

“well, when you grow up to be as awesome as me, maybe you’ll get your own ice cream flavor”

developing nanotech suits together for a Bonding Experience(tm)

speechless after the first test

“dad, this is...”

“the coolest thing to ever exist?”

“yes!!”

yall ready for some shit?

the day that ebony maw invaded was pretty—what’s the word? interesting? no. well, yes, but...HORRIBLE.

it all started when you got the call from your dad

“y/n, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“god, i really have to change that. okay, JOSHIE, answer it. hey, dad? what’s up?”

“hey, kid! you know that weird ass building on bleecker street? how fast can you get here?”

“JOSH can you track FRIDAY really quick? lets see how far dad is...uh, okay, be there in five, see ya”

taking your suit for a spin and realizing how GREAT it was to be able to basically fold up your suit and put it in your back pocket

knocking on the door and it opened on its own, it was kinda cool

“is this a museum? cool.”

bruce turning around to see you after about three years and giving you an awkward smile and a wave while you stood frozen around the wizard-guys

“y/n, god, you’ve grown up!”

charging into him for a long overdue hug

“you don’t know how much i missed you. it’s been chaotic without you”

“i can...i can only imagine”

a debriefing on the situation you were about to face, and bonus! having to play the catch-up game with bruce

“just call him, dad. we need as much help as we can. steve will understand”

rushing outside to face off with some ugly-ass aliens

“oh nooo, it’s roger smith from american dad”

bruce: 👀, stephen: 👀, wong: 👀, tony: 👏👏🥰 that’s my girl

simultaneous nanosuit unveiling

“you ready for this one, pops?”

“of course! ive waited years to kick some more alien ass”

montage of you and tony getting your asses beat together (as a family <3)

peter showing up

“give me one good reason why i shouldn’t send you back to that school bus”

“because i’m good company?”

“whatever, just listen to whatever dad has to say, i forfeit my responsibilities over you”

pew pew, repulsors, pew, tiny rockets! fun! action! destroying new york again and again. good times...

until JOSHUA gave you notice that your dad was flying high

“call him. now.”

“hey! how’s it going down there?”

“dad, you know how i feel about you and space”

“i know, i know. i just...i gotta take care of this. keep pepper safe for your old man, okay?”

“i lo—l—ve y—”

“y/n? y/n?! i love you! shit!”

“we lost connection with her, sir”

trying to call peter

“call failed, y/n. should i try again?”

“i’m gonna kill them...”

walking through the rubble to find bruce, the only sensible man you know

taking him to the avengers compound asap to get to rhodey and figure out what comes next

meanwhile, tony was dealing with space and another teenager

and worrying a lot about leaving you on earth

“i mean, mr. stark, y/n’s one of the most capable people i know. she’s probably trying to fix this whole mess as we speak”

“i didn’t get to tell her i love her”

“oh...”

having a lovely meeting with thaddeus ross with rhodey, having a lovely time watching them passive-aggresively argue until your former teammates arrived

having to patiently (and professionally) wait for ross to hang up before running into them for a hug

“holy shit, you guys have no idea how bad i’ve wanted to see you. it sucks not being all together anymore”

“i know, y/n. we’ve all missed you.” -cap

“a lot” -nat added

bruce’s little entrance that was sure to bring some awkwardness

you, secretly freaking out about your dad

sam was the one that found you crying after you “stepped out” for a few minutes too long

“oh, y/n,” he was contemplating grabbing someone else to step in, but decided to sit next to you in the hallway, “i’m sorry, kiddo. i can’t promise you anything, but your dad is a fighter. a big pain in the ass. i think your odds are good”

laughing through your tears

“yeah, you’re right. thanks, sammy”

he gave you a little hug while you calmed down

getting to business, the ass-kicking kind

as the wise natasha romanoff once said to your father, you were being “uncharacteristically non-hyper verbal”

your mind did this funny thing...wandered into places it really should not go

the talk about sacrificing vision led to wakanda, where you had a swell time patrolling

“guys! we’ve got incoming. a lot of incoming”

well-deserved uncle/niece team up. who wouldve thought?

you would have nightmares about these aliens for years to come

“you get to die, and you get to die! everybody gets to die!”

“y/n, what did we talk about?” -rhodey

“using humor as a defense mechanism makes the team uncomfortable...”

covering the girls 😌 because we gotta have those all-girl teamups, uh-huh?

some more blasting

thor made his comeback and you just could not miss it

“hi, thor!”

you landed next to him and your helmet receded

“well, hello, miss y/n! good to see you again! my, you got taller...oh! meet my friends: rabbit and tree”

having a “what the actual fuck” moment upon seeing thanos for the first time

and flying at him from behind with a massive nanotech blade ready to kill this purple bastard

but he grabbed your arm and flung you into the dirt, that was gonna leave a mark

“i just had to make a suit when i was ten...no one stopped me, huh? i couldn’t be elon’s kid, he was a nice guy”

watching thanos snap his fingers and looking around to see dust floating through the air and thanos retreat

“rhodey? uncle rhodey?!”

“i’m right here, kid, don’t worry”

he grabbed your hand while you were dusting

“tell my dad i love him, promise?”

fading away and leaving rhodey with your last words

he was mad before anything else

all he could think about was a promise your dad made him take years back

“rhodey, you keep my daughter safe no matter what, promise?”

the avengers recooperating at the compound, waiting to figure out whether any of the space-crew survived

they had to let pepper know that you didn’t make it, she was a mess upon hearing that news

tony finally making his way back to earth

and stumbling out of that ship

“where’s y/n? where is she?!”

“tony, tony, calm down”

“dont tell me to calm down! where is my daughter?!”

“she made me promise to tell you thay she loves you”

tony knew the answer by now, he lost his mind over your death

it didn’t feel right not having you by his side, for the past 18 years you’ve been with him

after a long period of recovery, tony and pepper moved on, got married, built a home, had a new daughter...

tony made sure there was a spare room for you

he put all the things you left behind in it

there were so many photos of you in the house

and he’d show your sister, morgan, all of them. he wanted morgan to know her sister

“that’s y/n when she built her first robot. it snuck up on me a few times. it went ‘boo!’”

morgan loved the stories about you, but she didn’t understand why she couldn’t see you

“when do i get to meet her?”

“uh...maybe someday, sweetie”

after being unbothered for almost 5 years, the remaining avengers came back with a plan that was so tempting, he just wanted his little girl back

cracking under pressure and telling pepper that he couldn’t ignore this mission because it was his chance to get you back

“get her back, tony”

“you think so?”

“i miss her, too.”

and so it began, he made it his mission to get you back

peeking at the wallet picture of you on his shoulders when you were so little

tony travelling to 2012; loki’s invasion

and there you were, the sassy genius 12 year old that he missed so much

“we’ve got this, tony, we’ll bring her home” -scott

and then things went badly and also 2012 tony went into cardiac arrest and 2012 y/n dove onto the floor to tend to him

“dad? give us some room, would you?!”

2023 tony smiling at how much he missed you worrying about him and how reckless he was

but also...the mission kinda went bad so that sucked

push it a bit farther back and now tony was with grandpa stark! asking how to be a dad and all that!

he could barely stand still waiting for you to come back to him, god he missed you more than he thought

and after a bit of hard work, it was time to snap

just like that, you were back in wakanda, puzzled by the gap in time before one of dr. strange’s portals opened in front of you

and then you were in the ruins of the avengers compound

“JOSHUA, can you locate my dad?”

“i think you’ll be able to see him”

“wow, i cant believe i programmed your cocky artificial ass”

“i think you can”

seeing your dad flying high and patching into the comms

“miss me, old man?”

and then he hit the gas to get to you and when this man hugged you, you almost couldn’t let go

“i’m so sorry, y/n. god, i’m sorry. these last five years...i was so lost without you”

“it’s okay, dad, i’m here now”

getting shot at during your reunion

“son of a bitch...we’re having a family moment here, asshole!”

yes, im gonna say it again. of course i am! and.........father/daugher team-up

the last one

“peter, is that you? you asshole! i cant believe you went to space without me!”

“missed you too!”

rhodey!! cant forget about uncle rhodey!!

“you gave my dad the message, right?”

“it was your dying wish, of course i did!”

“great. don’t forget i love you, too, rhodey!”

“couldn’t let me forget it”

lest we forget that pepper joined the fight?

plot twist: (step)mother/daughter team-up

mother/father/daugher team up!!!! ultimate stark machine!!!!!!!

and then you left him alone for 5 minutes and he’s got the infinity stones and you know it’s the last time you’re going to see him and you cant decide what your next move is and you’re just frozen and you cant catch your breath and he snaps and your heart plummets

you have to rush to his side, the last time you can sit beside his tired body and let him know that its going to be okay

“hey dad, it’s okay, we’re gonna be fine. thank you for everything”

peter grabbing your hand as you both sobbed next to your dad, feeling robbed of your time with him

pepper brought you home where she told you all about the five years you missed

both of you just cried harder than you’ve ever cried before

“so i have a sister?”

morgan was so happy to meet you, she couldn’t contain herself, practically latched onto you

and she didn’t fully understand what happened to tony

you saw your new room for the first time and didn’t leave it for a while, occasionally pepper or morgan would pop in

morgan actually crawled into bed with you a few times

the funeral was one of the worst days of your life

the remnants of your young life pulled back together for one day

then you hid back in your room before you heard a knock

“who is it?”

“it’s happy”

“come in”

“hey, kiddo. me and morgan are gonna get some cheeseburgers, you wanna come?”

she really was a stark

after a long hibernation, you started to get back into the groove of your old life

but the press was brutal and harsh, you were bombarded with questions regarding your dad

it took everything not to explode on camera

you stayed in contact with the rest of the avengers, mourning your dead, keeping the support system, staying a family

it was all you could get...for now

#tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark #iron man x daughter!reader #iron man imagine #iron man x reader #iron man #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers

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poisonedapples · 4 years ago

Text

Domestic Life (Was Never Quite My Style)

Summary: Even with a baby Patton who refuses to go to sleep, Roman finds himself having the loveliest night with his family.

Warnings: The song “Dear Theodosia” and one “blink and you’ll miss it” mention of parental abandonment. It’s mostly adorable fluff

Pairings: Romantic Logince, parental Royality and Logicality

Word Count: 2,522

Taglist: @noodles-07 @didyouseerichohisawrich @look-ma-im-on-tv @somehow-i-got-an-account @depressed-stressed-virgil @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @ohlookanotherdumbfanboy @jamie-writes-things @adoratato @boopypasta @omgsomeonesomewhereonearth @beyondthestacks @changeling-ash @hold-our-destiny

Notes: Happy anniversary to the best boyfriend in all the land, @romansleftshoulderpad, who has been there through everything good, weird and awful. You’re amazing, and even though my Writing Machine broke and had me change my present idea four times, hopefully you’ll appreciate some fluff nonetheless.

(Also shoutout as always to my friend Cornybird on Ao3 for editing my stuff I owe you like five squishmallows)

Roman and Logan were always the couple that no one could have possibly guessed. Roman was wild and untamed; always aiming for the best of the best, striving to conquer the impossible and prove everyone who doubted him wrong.

There always seemed to be so little time for him. He wanted to write, sing, dance, act, create, and he refused to let trivial things get in the way of that. Even as a hopeless romantic who dreamed of marriage, it seemed like his running on pure adrenaline made it impossible for him to make friends, let alone a husband.

Logan wasn’t much better. He wasn’t very invested in the arts and had (arguably) more achievable goals, but he still couldn’t stand to not be the top of his class. He wanted to be idolized. He wanted a kid who felt as helpless as he once did to look at him and get hope for the future. He wanted respect, and he was determined to gain it.

But that led to him overworking himself. Logan had a habit of working late into the night to put efficiency over self care, to drop everything that could get in his way and absorb himself in his own goals. Yet just like Roman, self isolation led to loneliness, and his personal expectations made him deem himself unworthy of a partner and family, no matter how untrue that was.

On the outside, they looked like people who were too busy and in their heads to enjoy the little things. Logan passed up warm showers and movie nights to get his ideas out on paper, and Roman passed up coffee shops and strolls through the park to create bigger and better things. But for the longest time, on the inside they were lonely. And only one person could see that enough to break through.

No one expected them to get to this point. The point where they’d been happily together for four years, Logan’s engagement ring carefully placed in the same box that Roman had given it to him in on the bedside table. But it was real anyway, and Logan was fast asleep, while Roman’s brain was thinking about too many fantasy worlds for him to calm down enough to doze off. Instead, he ran his fingers through his fiancé’s hair and watched him sleep peacefully on his chest.

Roman could have spent his entire life in that position. Just him and Logan, his adorable love looking peaceful and happy as Roman protected him from the world. If he wouldn’t be risking waking him up, Roman would also be peppering kisses all over his face, but he took a mental note to do that in the morning instead. They were going on a date tomorrow after all, and those always ended in lots of kisses and cheesy flirts Logan would roll his eyes at. But Roman thought his faux annoyance was adorable, so he used pickup lines at least three times a week.

But that was tomorrow, and tonight was tonight. And nights were a child’s favorite time to break the peace.

Roman could hear babbling from the room across from them, as well as from the baby monitor next to the bed. Patton was already squealing “dada” a little bit, and Roman knew from experience that he was getting ready to cry for them. It broke his heart every time Patton cried, so he gently pushed Logan to the bed and kissed his hair. He didn’t squirm, so Roman shimmied off the bed and smiled at Logan one last time as the baby talk got a little louder. He knew the drill by now, so Roman grabbed his guitar before he left and went to Patton’s bedroom. Music was the fastest way to get the little guy back to sleep.

Roman opened the colorful door to his son’s nursery. Only a pale blue nightlight gave light to the room, revealing a crib with a babbling baby holding onto the rails. Patton still couldn’t walk, but he was getting pretty good at standing in place, so the day would come at any time now.

Roman gave his baby a tired smile. “Hello, sunshine. What are you doing awake? Princes need their beauty sleep!”

“Dada, dada, dada!” Patton babbled, jumping as much as his tiny legs could using the spring of the crib’s mattress. Roman didn’t bother going to the crib and picking him up, though. He learned a long time ago that a rocking chair doesn’t make Patton tired anymore; he only squeals with excitement like it’s a baby rollercoaster. Roman experimented one night and played Wonderwall on his guitar as a joke when Patton refused to calm down, but it was the fastest the little guy had ever been lulled to sleep. Since then, Roman immediately picks up his guitar and lets Patton relax to that instead.

“What’s the request tonight, little buddy?” Roman asked as he sat in the rocking chair and strummed some of the strings. “Frère Jacques? Hey Soul Sister? Or do you want a song Dada really likes?”

“Dada!” Patton squealed.

“A Dada song? Excellent choice!” Roman leaned back in the chair and thought about what he may want to play. Logically he knew Patton only said dada because it was the only word he knew, but Roman liked to pretend his baby was the smartest boy in the entire world, even if his farts still scared him and he slapped his hands on every new surface he found. If he grew up to be anything like Logan, then Roman knew that he would have a bright future. “Now...what would I maybe want to play…”

Patton let go of the railing and let himself fall on his butt back to the mattress. He crawled over to his favorite stuffed frog and held onto the fur tightly, which Roman thought was objectively the cutest thing in this world. Though then again, everything Patton did was adorable. He was at the perfect age to steal the heart of everyone, and call Roman a lovestruck dad all you wanted, but his baby just blew his breath away.

“Hey, little froggy, how about we bring back an old favorite? Especially since me and Papa have been watching the Hamilfilm a whole lot!” Patton giggled in response, so Roman nodded his head. “Alright then, let’s see here…”

Roman placed his fingers on the neck of the guitar and strummed the first cord, testing out the tune. When he was satisfied, Roman strummed out the beginning notes of the song, and already Patton began to seem mesmerized by it.

“Dear Theodosia what to say to you? You have my eyes, you have your mother’s name. When you came into the world you cried and it broke my heart…” Patton shoved one of the eyes of his stuffed frog into his mouth, listening intently. When Patton was first born, all Roman did was sing this song to him. It seemed to fit so well given their situation. Logan always went on about how Patton had Roman’s eyes, even though Roman expected Logan to mention that it was obvious Patton would have some of his traits. He was half Roman after all, and Logan was hardly one for sentimentals anyway. But then again, becoming a dad had made him a lot softer than Roman could ever imagine.

“I’m dedicating every day to you, domestic life was never quite my style, when you smile…” Roman looked over at his baby. He had a little smile on his face, but Roman also guessed that was just the permanent position Patton’s face was in. He seemed like a happy baby almost all the time, give or take a few sick days and the time Patton saw a spider for the first time. “...You knock me out, I fall apart, and I thought I was so smart.”

Roman didn’t know if he was smart or not. His fiancé said that intelligence is more than book smarts and street smarts, and Roman had his strengths just like he had his flaws. But insecurity was a wild thing, and though Roman put on his best facade of greatness, he was only human, and humans have a strange perspective on self worth. Though no matter how intelligent he was, Roman had long accepted that Patton could break down any tough walls he or Logan put up. After all, it had been quite the sight to see Logan sob from happiness at holding his baby for the first time.

“You will come of age with our young nation...we’ll bleed and fight for you. We’ll make it right for you. If we lay a strong enough foundation...we’ll pass it onto you. We’ll give the world to you and you’ll blow us all away. Someday, someday…”

Roman strummed out the notes in between lyrics for longer than he had to, but it was okay when his audience was a baby who didn’t actually know the song. “Ready for one more part, buddy?” Patton didn’t respond (obviously), he only looked up at Roman with big eyes. “Good! I know it’s your favorite part.”

“I have to admit that it is mine as well.”

Roman’s strumming stopped in its tracks when he heard the familiar voice. He looked across the room to the door where his adorable fiancé stood, his hair messy and Roman’s stolen pajama shirt making him look considerably tinier. If Roman wasn’t so tired, he’d scoop Logan up and swing him around the room for being so adorable. “What are you doing awake, love?”

“I can hear you singing from the baby monitor that’s a few feet away from my face.” Roman’s cheeks flushed red, but Logan didn’t care. He walked over to Roman at the rocking chair and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, giving a kiss to the top of Roman’s head. “Did a certain little froggy decide to have a party past his bedtime?”

“He woke up, yeah. I’m trying to put him back to sleep.”

“Did you check his diaper?”

Roman blinked. “...I did not.”

Logan sighed, but he shook his head fondly at his forgetful fiancé. Roman always went to the more complicated solutions before thinking about the basics, but at least he was trying. If Patton had started to cry, Roman would have eventually realized to check those things anyway.

Logan picked up Patton from his crib and took a sniff of his diaper. He smelled clean, which was good, but putting a baby to sleep who simply didn’t want to rest was harder than having something specific to fix. Logan kept Patton in his arms as Roman strummed on his guitar again with a smile.

“I still have to finish my song, Logan. Care to join the late night party with us?”

Logan smiled. “It’s Alexander’s part, correct?”

“Don’t act like you don’t already know. You love this musical as much as I do.”

“Fair point. How about you sing to us, then?”

“Could you do me the honor of singing alongside me?” Roman asked.

Logan felt his face heat up. “...We’ll see.”

Roman didn’t push it anymore. He knew Logan didn’t like his singing voice, even if it was objectively the best thing Roman could ever possibly hear. But when Logan got some time to ease into the idea, he would eventually slide into it.

Roman started strumming again, and the song picked up once more. It was just that with Logan around, the energy of the room felt all the more alive. “Oh, Phillip you outshine the morning sun. My son. Look at my son!”

Patton smacked both his hands on Logan’s shoulder. Logan couldn’t help but laugh.

“Pride is not the word I’m looking for. There is so much more inside me now…”

Logan began to sing, and Roman almost stopped in his tracks with awe. “Oh, Phillip, you outshine the morning sun. My son.”

Patton looked up at his dad with the most adorable baby smile. At the sound of both his parents and his favorite guitar, Patton began kicking and bouncing in Logan’s arms. The song was meant to calm him down enough to sleep, but instead the little guy decided it was the perfect time of day of a dance party. The worst part was that neither Roman or Logan had the heart to argue with him.

Instead, they both began to sing together as Patton bounced and smacked his hands. “When you smile, I fall apart. And I thought I was so smart.”

The music changed a little bit, and Roman and Logan both knew what came next. It was a part that hit them both close to home, but they’d practiced that section way too many times to not be prepared. Roman took the part of Alexander first. “My father wasn’t around…”

Logan held a dancing Patton tighter. “My father wasn’t around.”

“I swear that I’ll be around for you. I’ll do whatever it takes…”

“I’ll make a million mistakes…”

Roman stood up from the rocking chair and strummed louder as he stood beside Logan. Both him and their son smiled as the two came back together for the song. “I’ll make the world safe and sound for you...will come of age with our young nation.”

Roman laid his head on Logan’s shoulder and Patton was merciful enough to stop slapping and put all his energy into bouncing up and down instead of smacking Roman in the face. “We’ll bleed and fight for you, we’ll make it right for you. If we lay a strong enough foundation...we’ll pass it onto you. We’ll give the world to you, and you’ll blow us all away. Someday, someday...yeah, you’ll blow us all away. Someday, someday…”

The two parents held the last note as Roman strummed out the ending of the song. When Roman finished with that final strum, Patton still danced until the note had become too quiet to hear. Once he stopped his bouncing, Roman set his guitar down on the floor long enough to grab Patton’s hands and make him clap. “Yay, bravo, bravo! A wonderful musician and his beautiful dancer!”

Patton squealed nonsense in response as Logan moved to steal Roman’s place at the rocking chair, being careful not to rock it in case it only riled Patton up even more. “I don’t think he’s been calmed down by your song, Roman.”

“Well…” Roman grabbed his guitar again and sat on the floor in front of the rocking chair. “That just means we have to let him dance out the energy, right? Then tomorrow, we’re absolutely recording him dancing to this. I would do it now if I wasn’t tired.”

Logan chuckled. “I will try to remind you.”

“But until then…” Roman placed his fingers back on the strings and strummed the first note. “Care for another round, my love?”

The smile Logan gave off mixed with the happiness of their baby was an image Roman swore to cherish forever. “Of course, my prince.”

When Roman began to strum, their precious baby boy started to dance once more.

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sugoui · 5 years ago

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— the language he knew.

⁙ with you following in his steps, he knew there was only one way to stop you. ⁙

× soui’s note » im a sad bitch so here’s a sad fic. repost.

p a i r i n g ⇀ park jimin x reader..or more likely, fuckboy!jimin who sees the one he loves fall apart.

t y p e ⇀ angst and light smut..or, is this what you call voyeurism?

w o r d s ⇀ 7,659.

» [ friends to lovers!au ] °˖✧

“Doesn’t it bother you to be alone?”

Through the singing of the birds and the rustling of trees, his nose scrunches in distaste; chopsticks hanging loosely from his fingers as his attention is sparked, and eyes drill into yours within the proximity of the park. Did it bother him? Eyes averting from your curious state, he looks down into his cup filled with ramen, heart twinging in something akin to pain and yet..the sun still grins happily upon the two of you. “I dunno,” he mumbles in honesty, “I’ve never had anyone by my side to begin with.”

He notices you bite your lip at that, eyes glimmering as they try to find any kind of hope for Jimin within the many thoughts of your mind, anything that could change him into moving on to a better him. “But you can try,” you push on, taking a sip from your water bottle. He watches you, watches you turn slightly in your seat as you gasp in pleasure from quenching your thirst — then sighs to himself when you smile softly at the oncoming giggling children running around in glee. “Stop playing around with girls like they’re toys, you know? Find someone who you know will be able to make you feel alive.”

He sighs, resting his elbow on the flat surface of the picnic table as he lays his chin on the palm of his hand, “but you’re the only one who can take that place.”

And he smiles at the way you bark out in laughter, rosy blush staining your cheeks as tears accumulate at the corner of your eyes from Jimin’s absurd words, and his heart flutters.

But the thing is, he wasn’t joking — and there was no way you would ever acknowledge that.

He knew there was nothing wrong with wanting someone by your side, that there was nothing wrong with falling in love and chasing your heart but there was no way he could act on his feelings for you. You’re the girlfriend of one of his long time best friend’s, you are one of his best friend’s and have been since you were children, and upon bro code and the sake of keeping this friendship sane; he refuses to destroy the boundaries, no matter how many times he feels the crippling need to.

He was devastated, heart melting into the acid of his stomach when he had heard you belonged to Jungkook years ago, and he knew there was nothing he could do to tear you two apart, to steal you away and have you in his arms so he could mutter ‘mine’ into the crook of your neck. Because of his shyness, because of his self esteem — he never had the guts to confess to you; he had always believed and imagined many scenarios of you rejecting him or spitting in his face and just the thought of that had the air clogging in his throat. He was a mess, still is a mess, and the day Jungkook invited him out for pizza and suggested that you all move into an apartment together so the circle of three you all tried to uphold throughout the years wouldn’t disassemble into many pieces, Jimin could only laugh wearily as he looked to your brightened face at the thought of finally being united indefinitely — and he accepted, even though he knew it would ruin him in more ways than one.

It started after months of living on cloud nine that Jimin began to think his pessimism was all in his head, but after witnessing the premonition hiding within the shadows of the apartment, things began to softly crumble.

Every night through the thin paper walls, the boy tried his hardest to suffocate his eardrums with his pillows as he forbade himself to hear your muffled moans and tantalizing giggles, demanded his heart to just shut up for once from the decaying anxiety resting in the pit of his stomach that threatened to poison his mind with it’s horrendous fumes. The bed tapping against the wall from the other side made him fragile with every hit, his mind playing a broken record as he tried his hardest to fall into the arms of slumber he desperately sought for. And as time ticked in the back of his mind and repeated the scenario from every other oncoming night, he ripped the duvet off his crumbling body as he stormed out of the apartment — seeking something that would hide his inner turmoil away in the back of his pocket.

He wasn’t proud of it, but it was something that could be easily done; finding a girl, someone as desperate as him to rip off the clothes that suffocated him and just to feel loved. And even though it wasn’t real love, it was enough.

“Where were you?” He remembered that specific night clearly, the apartment lost of any light except for the street lights that flittered through the sheer curtains of the small area as you stood at the corner of the living room, arms crossed and bare feet tapping the floor like some rabid housewife.

He simply shrugged as he walked past you and tried to make his way into his bedroom quietly. He reeked of alcohol and sex, at least he assumed from the way you scrunched your nose in disgust. His hair was amiss, his lips were heavily bruised and he just felt weak, especially when you suddenly gripped his wrist harshly to stop him in his tracks — he couldn’t help but sneer. “Answer me, Jiminie.”

“Don’t call me that,” he grunted as he tried to shake off your hand in the process, “and don’t fucking touch me.”

You retracted your hand as if you had been heavily burnt by scalding water, glaring at the older boy in hurt, but instead, he focused on his previous destination before your voice froze him in his place. “Jimin,” you corrected, “you can’t do this anymore, you’ve been doing this for months. Is this really how you want to fall-?“

“What are you?” He cut in, head tilted to the side in annoyed curiosity. “My girlfriend? I don’t think so.”

He knew his words had slapped you in the face, yet, as he took his first step away from you and towards his bedroom once again, you snatched his wrist with no remorse, pulling him towards you so he could hear your thoughts and not the ones murmuring in the back of his mind — but he was having none of it.

The second your fingers sizzled against his skin, he roughly slammed you into the wall, ignoring the choked and pained gasp that fell from your lips. “(y/n), I’m only going to say this once so you better engrave these words into your pretty little head.”

You tried your hardest to free your bruising wrist from his deadly grasp, but instead, he leaned into you, lips hovering over your cheek as the toxic breath stung your eyes, and the gulp whispering in the center of your throat was heard by the one holding you captive.

“This is my life, and there is no way in hell that you would ever play me like some damn gamer watching over his avatar.” He seethed, lips drawing a portrait onto your skin with every word that spilled from his mouth, “let me live my life, as you should do yours.”

“But-“

His hand moved from your face and his fingers tapped against your lips, stopping you from making another peep; and he grinned. “You can’t expect me to follow after you and Jungkook like some lost dog–“ he scoffed, eyes glaring into your own, “and you can’t expect me to stay during the night to sleep as you two fuck every other night, that’s not how it works.”

He watched you gawk at him as if he wasn’t himself, as if he were possessed by something that caused him to change–and maybe he was, being the demons who caused him to fall in love with the never could be, and now, he had lost himself within the flames of wanting to float on clouds, to escape the reality he was living in..but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

His hand slowly lifted from taking your lips hostage and moved to cup your cheeks, his face softening as his thumb softly smoothed over the soft skin. Your eyes stared through his as they tried to find something, but with Jimin’s bucket of black paint drenching any lasting thoughts within his irises, you sighed, looking away as you placed your hand against his chest and pushed him away softly. “I’m sorry.” It was a weak whisper and your eyes were filled with regret, lips trembling from the small commotion.

But he didn’t want to hear it.

Days went on as he avoided you like the plague; he locked his bedroom door during the day and escaped into the raging strobe lights of night clubs and house parties during the night. Jungkook sent him continuous texts to get out of his bedroom, to spend time with the both of you and to stop his greedy antics of escaping into used hands, and the night he doesn’t leave the small quaint apartment — he dropped onto the lingering chest of the living room couch.

His eyes softly closed at the sound of footsteps tickling the floors of the home after a while of silence, and his heart began to beat a raging tune at finally having to face reality.

The steps soon stopped before him, and he breathed softly. “Jungkook-ah.” He plainly muttered into the leather of the sofa, “what is it?”

“I know about your feelings for (y/n).”

Instantly, the man gets up, eyes threatening to fall out of his sockets as he peered into the orbs hiding behind the black curtain of hair. “What?” He asked softly, scared of you appearing from your bedroom, and terrified of having his feelings written in his eyes as it glowed for everyone to see.

“I know how you are, Jiminie.” Jungkook crossed his arms, face finally being revealed as he ran his fingers through his soft dark locks. And the lone act caused Jimin to internally hyperventilate, because what? He knew he was a coward for fucking around every weekend with someone just to erase his feelings for a limited time, but he had also believed that because he did that, that nobody would find out — but in times like these, he can only wonder if Jungkook could read him like a book, only wonder if his whole existence was written on the back of Jungkook’s hand and that terrified him to death. “I can practically feel the longing oozing out of your body, and lemme tell you one thing.”

“No,” Jimin shook his head and frantically rose up from the couch. “I’m leaving.”

But he doesn’t get to escape, not this time, as Jungkook grabs the boy by the collar of his shirt and slams him down roughly into the fluffiness of the couch. The younger is on top of him like some tiger getting ready to devour his prey; the roles reversed from that day with you weeks ago and Jimin knew at this point, that his useless and drunk self from the past was witnessed by the beyond livid Jungkook, and he couldn’t feel any more ashamed.

There was no use fighting back, his will was lost long ago with his sanity, and with eyelids threatening to shut and look away from possessive eyes, his hands fall limp at his sides. “I know Jimin, I know you’ve been around, slept around. Used like some damn rag over and over again to the point that there are stains, but there is no way in hell I’ll let something as tainted as you blotch (y/n) with your dirtied hands.”

“Jungkook,” Jimin desperately called, small hands clutching the ones wrinkling his shirt. He knew he was a fuckboy messing around to get around, but Jungkook had it all wrong — there was no way in hell that he would ever touch you in those ways, use you as if your friendship meant absolutely nothing, and all in all, try to steal you away from him. “Those are not my intentions.” Jimin got out, but Jungkook’s eyes are written in pure thirst to murder if the opposite were to happen, and he couldn’t help but gulp at the look of pure disgust. “You know as well as I-I do that I’d never hurt her, I’d never do that to you-“

“Like hell you won’t,” the taller boy dug the lanky one further into the couch with a shove, stealing Jimin’s breath away as his chest began to ache from the abused contact, “keep your dick where it doesn’t belong, you ass. I mean it.”

And amidst the park where he sighs from the past, from something that happened months ago with horrid assumptions and lingering regrets, he gets up from the bench with his hands in his pockets — smile swiped from his visage like a hungry frog snatching some bothersome flies. “You’re leaving already?” You ask, the corner of your lips falling to show your displeasure, and he shrugs, because really, this whole meeting with you at the park was all over useless.

Ever since Jungkook confronted him, he hadn’t had the audacity to speak to you or even hang out as the circle of three like old times. There was really no way he could ever go back to how it used to be, and Jimin was sure that soon enough, his image would be ripped away from the couple who aches to be together forever without someone so useless and broken.

Without someone like him.

“There really isn’t much to say,” he admits, looking up to the sky to avoid any sort of expression you draw with the tip of your nose. He could tell that you’re scared, hesitating to tell him anything about the path he chose to walk down on, so you only giggle halfheartedly, leaning into the wooden bench as if all your worries had already fallen into evanescence.

“At least try, Jimin.” You whisper with a tiny tone, but he hears you, feels the worry interlacing with every sound that escapes your lips, “try to love someone with everything you have. Give yourself to them and only them.”

“I don’t know,” he admits, eyes glancing towards your distraught yet innocent figure, “this is the only language I know.”

“How could you do this to me?”

Jimin’s eyes softly open, yawn escaping him as he looks at his alarm clock and soon, the sound of something shattering stabs through the air.

And he flies up from his bed in an instant.

His head is beating like a drum, sending shockwaves of pain throughout his body as he instantly rubs his aching temples. Maybe the sound of danger is just something his anxiety was feeding him, or maybe he just drank too much the night before. Nonetheless, his eyes inhale the blinking 3 AM screen his phone gave him — and he forces himself to check the small apartment.

Darkness fills the small home like water, and with squinting eyes, everything seems normal. His bare feet hits against the hardwood floor with soft taps, fingers tremble as he passes the door laying open to your lifeless bedroom, and he then notices the hallway being way too eerie for comfort. At this time, you and Jungkook are usually sleeping; so seeing the both of you not tangled in sheets was a sign Jimin believed with all his heart that something was seriously wrong.

He walks into the living room where a clock ticks the silence away, and once his head peeks over to the front door — he instantly freezes.

The door is wide open, and Jungkook stares at you with panicked eyes as yours are planted into the ground. You refuse to look up, your lips are shaking as you sniffle and when Jungkook places his hand on your shoulder, you are quick to slap it away with a scoff. “Don’t touch me.“

“(y/n),” Jungkook whispers harshly, obviously trying not to wake the supposed sleeping Jimin whom was already witnessing the whole ordeal, “I was stupid, okay? What more do you want me to say?”

“Seriously?” You spit, taking a step back, “are you fucking kidding me?”

Jungkook sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m sorry, I-..I was insecure. I didn’t know what I was thinking-“

“But there was a reason, wasn’t there?”

Jimin walks a little closer, his heart shushing all his organs as he tries to listen in on the conversation. His eyebrows knit together in concentration, and when the next words manage to crawl it’s way into his ears, the boy could only smile to himself in disbelief.

“I was scared, you know? Scared that one of these days I’d find you in Jimin’s bed, terrified that the both of you would go behind my back. Scratch that, actually, I was drunk as hell and believed you two did it.” Jungkook gulps, his Adam’s apple slipping down his neck before it flies back into place. “That’s why..that’s why I cheated on you.”

Silence.

It took Jimin everything in his power not to storm into the scene and punch Jungkook’s face in. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing after Jungkook had the audacity to pretty much tell him to fuck off many months ago, yet the younger could go along his merry way and do whatever he wanted to you. Jimin was beyond pissed, and as his back presses against the wall hidden from the two at the doorway, your voice finally pierces the atmosphere.

“Get out of my sight,” you whisper shakily, “just leave.”

Jungkook glances your way in pain, and Jimin could feel the inner turmoil happening within the other man in wanting to hug you and beg for you to not leave him, but he doesn’t. He throws his backpack over his shoulder, steps out of the apartment before he bows slightly before you.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes, tone weak and fragile, “I’m so fucking sorry, but please, know that I truly do love you.”

Yet, you say nothing to his words, only nodding as you shut the door behind him and lock it down.

Jimin still stands where he is, eyes blown open as he wonders how he should approach you after seeing that. Would you cry? He was your boyfriend of a few years, and best friend of many, and he was now gone, and knowing you for so long — he knew there was no way you would take back someone whom betrayed your trust, and he honestly wouldn’t blame you if you avoided Jungkook for now on. Before he could take a step away from his hiding place, you are standing a few feet away from him, and he jumps in his place. “Shit, I-“

“Did you see anything?” You question, and his heart shatters from the way you seem so broken, so lost and tired from the world you were placed in. He says nothing, eyes reflecting your emotions like a mirror as he bites his lip in sorrow. “I see,” you comment, looking away in embarrassment, “good night, then.”

“Wait,” Jimin says before you could walk back into your bedroom, full on knowing that his next question is way beyond stupid and idiotic but he doesn’t care — he has to know. “Are you okay?”

You raise an eyebrow at the question, and he hopes you didn’t find his curiosity rude nor pathetic, but when you laugh softly as you shake your head; you throw him a thumbs up. “I’m perfect,” you assure him, continuing towards the comfort of your bedroom, “so don’t worry about me.”

He tried not to worry, but he did, and he was going crazy.

Hours, days, weeks went on as he rarely saw you around the shared apartment and he was hoping more than anything that you didn’t do anything insane inside your own bedroom. He knew that the walls haunted you, that the place you called home taunted you with the existence of your now ex boyfriend. He witnessed you wash your blankets and duvets and pretty much anything that could have touched Jeon Jungkook millions of times over and over just so you could erase his existence — and seeing you crumble before his eyes made him feel absolutely useless.

He couldn’t do anything, no matter how many times he wanted to hug you and help you through your heartbreak, he just couldn’t; and the sole reason was because both your languages of love equaled the existence of heaven and hell, the epitome of yin and yang and damn him if he ever changed your perspective on such an innocent feeling.

At least, that’s what he believed.

On one of his usual nights out, his blood ripples from the booming music vibrating within the large house. His head is bopping, hand reaching for the bottle of Mike’s as his friend laughs obnoxiously loud and snatches the soft liquor away from him. “Really, Jimin?” He smiles, “do you really think this pussy shit will have me opening my legs for you?”

Jimin chokes out a dry laugh, snatching the drink from the taller man before popping the lid open, “shut up, Yoongi.”

He takes a large swig of it, loving to feel the sweet yet toxic liquid scratch against his throat before he pulls the glass bottle away from his lips. Jimin clears his throat softly, fist against his mouth to hide any grimace he wore on his face as Yoongi throws his arm around his neck; pulling him into his chest as he cackles. “Jennie is here,” he mutters, grin evident on his features, “talk to her.”

“Uh, I don’t know,” he mumbles to himself, taking a smaller sip, “I need to be loaded before I go.”

And after the words fall from his lips, everything around him drowns into the background. He sighs to himself as Yoongi speaks beside him, obviously drunk off his mind from how much he kept yapping, and Jimin could only let himself embrace the alcohol he drank. It was always like this wherever he went, whether it was a house party or the club or maybe something simple at a restaurant during the middle of the night; Yoongi always nudged him towards a specific someone during their many mischievous spontaneities, and he would blindly follow whatever path he was assigned to for the night, well, if he agreed to it.

Which he always did, considering how wasted he had always became.

“How many would you like?”

Yoongi’s voice snaps him out of his stupor, making the boy smile as he raises his dripping glass of alcohol in the air. “Same as always.”

And before he knew it, crumpled cans lays on the island as his empty glass is already tipped over and forgotten, and his head lays on the tabletop as he tries to find any kind of comfort in the music playing around him. His mind is hazy, he feels lonely, and more than anything — he needs to feel that hole bubbling with black ink be filled with color. He somehow pushes himself away from the stool and the usual anxiety screaming at the back of his head is already drowning in the bubbling mixture of liquor. His movements are sporadic as he tries to find his usual source of drugs amidst the many people intoxicated beyond belief, and once he finds Kim Jennie giving him a look of longing from the nearly packed sofa, he grins.

It was her, it was always her who came stumbling into his arms at the end of the night. She was always there, whether it was smiling into his skin or digging her fingers deeply into his back — it was always her. But he never saw her during those intimate moments, he never kissed her nor breathed promises into her ear as he wished to do so with someone he loved so dearly, and he was okay with it, as was she. She had her motives and he had his own intentions, and no matter how far they differed, in the end, they both needed the same thing. And that was to escape.

But, as time suddenly morphs into slow motion and Jimin stops in his steps as he squints with heavy eyes towards the glowing figure popping through the front door, soon, his façade shatters as realization stabs his heart like a poisonous arrow.. a realization that things never go as planned.

His smile drops, his veins vibrate with horror as he completely forgets about the one with benefits and spins on the heels of his feet, charging up the steep set of stairs of the house like a frightened cat zooming away from it’s predator and ignoring Jennie’s angry screams of his surname.

The hallways are dimmed and few people loitered around as they sucked the other’s face off or just wanted to escape from the chaos rumbling below. He could barely breathe at this point, knocking a random door open as he stumbles inside and slams it shut — back colliding against said door as he slides to the floor with a panicked sigh.

There was no way in hell that you were in the party he always took place at, no way in hell that you barricaded the apartment just to walk right into satan’s sanctuary. You never liked parties, saying there were way too many people for your liking and that there was literally nothing to do than just sit around and waste your time — so Jimin just cannot believe he saw you pushing through dancing crowds all alone in such a dangerous place.

Should he go confront you and take you back to the apartment? Grab your hand and pull you through the chaotic home? His heart wanted to, so badly wanted to push you back into safety but his hazy mind struggled to find leverage within the want and need. Would you try to fight him once he finally showed that he did indeed care about how you were doing? Or would you accept whatever he thought was best for you? Jimin glares at the nicely made king bed, squints at the many teddy bears and the assumed purple blotched colored walls throughout the darkened room, and clenches his fists.

He felt like puking from his chaotic apprehension, wishing he could find any type of answers dangling from the ceiling that could help you into becoming a better you and definitely not an imitation of him. He shouldn’t have drank, he should have stayed home and kept you company because who knew how much pain you were in to stoop so low, even though he doesn’t know if you have fallen, he couldn’t help but worry.

And it was killing him inside.

The doorknob to the bedroom rattles, and all thoughts instantly scream as they hide in the darkest corners of his mind. “Shit,” he says under his breath, head snapping to the door that is about to open, “this room is busy—!“

“(y/n).” He hears a deep voice from the other side followed by your bubbly giggling and satan immediately shoves his fist down Jimin’s throat. He is frozen, staring at the door that softly creaks open and at a loss, he jumps into the closet and closes the louvered doors as best as he could; and holds his breath. “Stop fighting me–!”

“No,” you breathe, and he finally sees you and the mysterious man stumble into the room through the door, bites his lip so hard once the door slams shut and the light disappears. “You can’t m-make me, Taehyung.”

He could see the bright red hair, curses it with his life once it shines from the moon’s luminescence that sheered through the curtains, and inwardly groans. He knew who Kim Taehyung was, someone who grew up with you apart from he and Jungkook and ever since Jimin was a child, he built a sort of rivalry between him and the younger boy due to jealousy. Taehyung was an asshole, at least in his eyes, and he didn’t like the man one bit. But here he is, and with you.

He knew Taehyung cared about you, probably as much as him no matter how much the younger teased you — and a part of Jimin knew he shouldn’t be worried about Taehyung now of all times because honestly, he should be grateful the man dragged you out of the bubbling hell.

Taehyung pushes you into the bed, and you easily fall on top of it as you whine in distaste. “Made you.” He simply comments, plopping beside you and closing his eyes, and Jimin decides that maybe, it would be safe for him to sneak out of the bedroom and head on home without the two of you knowing he was at the party at all.

“I drank way too much,” you mumble into the blankets, and Taehyung lazily grunts a ‘I feel you’ as you turn to look at the man, “should I go home?”

Jimin’s fingers hover over the closet doors, stopping his escape as to not let himself get noticed if you were to leave, and he hears Taehyung sigh. “You shouldn’t have even came in the first place.”

“Shut the hell up,” you somehow find the courage to spit, and the other softly laughs, “I..I just wanted to—“

“Make Jungkook jealous, yeah.” A raspberry fills the room, and the bed softly squeaks, “can’t you just get over him? It’s been about two months (y/n), he’s probably forgotten you and found someone else.”

Silence ensues the small room, and Jimin internally curses at Taehyung’s words because even he himself could feel the punch to his gut. He closes his eyes, praying to the gods to stop your pain, but as always, he is ignored, and you’re already getting up from the bed. “You’re an asshole,” you softly cry, “fuck you.”

Taehyung is quick in sitting up and grabs your wrist despite his drunken stupor, “that’s not what I meant,” he quickly tries to cover, “and you know that.”

“But..” you begin, “but maybe you’re right. Jungkook cheated on me, Jimin can’t even look at me —“ said boy’s mouth falls open “—a-and I have no one left, Tae. They all find me disgusting, they all disappeared because I’m just a germ, and–“

“I never said you were disgusting,” Taehyung whispers, but with your rant, his voice is ignored.

“It just hurts, ok?” You sniffle, wiping your tears with your forearm as you swallow a choked sob. “I don’t know what to do anymore, I feel so useless, should I even–“

“Shut the hell up,” Taehyung interrupts, throwing your previous words back into your face, “don’t you even dare finish that fucking sentence.”

You’re rubbing furiously at your eyes, wanting the tears to stop that you had kept shoved inside a bucket within you and Jimin can’t help but rub at his own eyes to stop them from watering. Seeing you like this, a mess, was really opening his eyes to how much you had upheld alone, and he felt like complete and total shit for avoiding you all this time.

“Then,” you crack out, “then help me.”

Taehyung raises a brow at that, delusional self caught between confusion and just saying yes, “how?”

“Have sex with me.”

Jimin jumps up in shock, head hitting the closet door as he quickly muffles his yell of pain. He could see Taehyung look frantic, staring at the closet with bulging eyes and lips trembling while your eyes stayed glued onto the boy before you. “Hey,” Taehyung says, weary smile on his lips, “did you hear that-?”

“Don’t change the subject, Kim Taehyung.” You bite, and Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, eyes downcast as he tries his hardest to avoid any contact, “answer me.”

Jimin’s teeth stabs into the skin inside his mouth as his fingers tremble. What in the world were you saying? He didn’t want to see any of this go down, he didn’t want to watch you ruin yourself or make any mistakes in trying to forget your love with Jungkook. He is careful as he slightly opens the doors to the closet, wanting to see your expression or even Taehyung’s — but all he could see, was how horrified the latter’s features were.

“(y/n), you know I can’t do that.” He mutters, but your drunk self had smart ass written all over it.

“Huh?” You grunt, hand going towards your ear is if it would let you hear better, “what did you say?”

“This isn’t you,” he speaks up, “we’re both drunk, (y/n), and you’re hurt — I get that.” He states, and your shoulders visibly slump. “I get that you’re in pain, only wanting to forget about what happened but it’ll just be gone for a few minutes; a few minutes that you’ll never get back until the pain comes back once again. Do you really want that?”

Jimin applauds Taehyung in his head, thankful that at least the man had a brain during these difficult situations. Your sniff then gets Jimin’s attention, and Taehyung quickly sits up before you. “Y-you’re a liar.” You croak, “y-you said that you’d always do anything for me since we were children, and—“

“But not this,” Taehyung is desperate, hands cupping your cheeks to wipe the trickling tears away, “please, (y/n), anything but this.”

With Jimin’s better view, he sees you smile softly as you push Taehyung’s hands away as they hesitantly fall back to his sides, watches you wipe your own tears away with your hands as you then rub the damp skin on your skintight dress. “Thanks for everything, Taehyung.” You say, bowing slightly as you hold in a choked sob, “goodbye.”

And as you weakly turn to the locked door to take your leave, Taehyung grabs your shoulder and turns you to him. His front was absolutely destroyed, and enigma paints onto his skin as bright as the color of his hair. Jimin knew at this moment that the boy had broken at seeing his best friend ruined, and that the events that were about to occur would change the future — and probably not for the good.

Your breaths are soft as your eyes glances to the hands loosening the straps to your dress on your shoulders, you sniff when the simple cloth glides down your arms to reveal your breasts, and large hands grip your shoulders as the dress drops dead on the floor to reveal you in all your glory for both boys to see.

“No,” Taehyung murmurs, “I should be thanking you.”

Calloused skin touches your bosom, and you whine softly from the foreign grope. Jimin doesn’t know what to do but watch, watch Taehyung look at you with so much adoration Jimin believed he never had and just watch euphoria spear into your veins. It isn’t long until Taehyung dives in to kiss you, to let his hands wander around the soft expanse of your body as he pulls you in close, and all Jimin can do is watch.

He wanted more than anything to ruin the doors from it’s hinges and rip Taehyung away from you, he wanted to do so many things and stop the atrocity happening before him but he just couldn’t. He is glued into his place, eyes averting here to there and the demons inside him giggles into his ears.

The boy felt pathetic, useless as time ticked above his head and Taehyung is now ramming into you like there is no tomorrow, literally making you grip the sheets beneath you and scream into his bruised lips. Maybe it was hours, no, possibly years that roared on and the ending was no where in sight, and all Jimin could feel..was useless.

His heart was palpitating, he was in pain and he couldn’t do anything to stop it, to stop you and your decisions, to stop his disgusting ass from getting hard just by seeing you cry and writhe beneath Taehyung.

When you two finally stopped, the sun was waking up from it’s slumber, and Jimin shoves the closet doors open only to find you both naked on the bed. Taehyung is hugging you as if he were scared to lose you, and you hugged him back in your slumber and the lone image sparked reality within him that he couldn’t help but cry silently.

He finally closes his eyes, opens the door to the hallway and just all over breathes the air that could probably help him be sane. And as he walks down the stairs, he sees Jennie standing there with her back to the wall and her arms crossed, bitch face on full blast as she scoffs. “Pathetic,” she sneers, and Jimin only grins.

“Shut up,” he spits, “it’s none of your business.”

With hands shoved in the large pocket of his hoodie, Jimin walks down the streets of the busy city with only one destination in mind.

The incident at the party happened weeks ago, and Jimin noticed you disappearing from the apartment more often now. He didn’t like the path you were walking down on, and he could only briefly wonder if this is how you felt when the roles weren’t reversed. Ever since that day, all the boy could do was watch you from afar — going back to phase one and never moving an inch from it. But, despite that, there was one thing he learned from the fate he had to face, and that was..expect the unexpected.

Like now.

“Okay, do me a favor.” Jimin says after he takes a sip of his coffee, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he peered at the one before him, “you want me to what?”

“Help me,” the man clad in dark wear begs, burgundy beanie hiding his hair, “help me get back with (y/n).”

Jimin is flabbergasted, and maybe he expected this and possibly more, but still, it shook him to the core. The bells to the coffee shop jingle as more passerby lost the battle between not wasting money and the scent of delicious coffee, and Jungkook could only look to the door frantically in hopes that it wasn’t the only person he desperately wanted to see.

Which is obviously you.

“You have balls, you know that?” Jimin comments, sinking into his seat as he leers at Jungkook, “after what you have done; you expect her to fly into your arms and forgive you. Crazy, you know?”

“I know,” Jungkook sighs, and at this moment, Jimin actually takes a chance to inspect the younger man more. His eyes are darker than before, skin pale and body thin — he looked sick, yet, he still stood strong. Jimin knew that the break up wasn’t easy for both of you, hell, he even watched you two fall in love through the years. He knew it, but what he believed, was that the one sitting before him, is beyond feeble. “I know I did wrong, but just one more chance, and–“

“You do know,” Jimin cuts him off, “that she’s seeing Taehyung, don’t you?”

Jungkook’s mouth falls open, and as hard as he tried to reply to Jimin and just find words, he doesn’t. A frown crawls onto his visage, and Jimin’s eyes glide to the fists clenching too hard for comfort. “You’re lying,” he growls, “she would never do that–“

“I heard them, Jungkook.” Which technically isn’t a lie, considering he had front row tickets to the porno. “Things change, and you’re just too late.”

Jungkook’s coffee shakes in his hands and he grits his teeth, eyes lost into another dimension as his anger bubbles in the pit of his stomach, “I’m gonna kick his ass.”

Jimin chokes a laugh. “No, you definitely won’t.”

“Then help me,” Jungkook pleads, and Jimin can’t help but see you once again; vision from the past replaying inside his mind like a mantra, “please, hyung — just this once.”

The older scrunches his nose, eyes draping to a close like curtains as he laughs in irony, “you do know you’re asking help from the one person that should be a threat to you, right?”

“I–“ Jungkook starts, words in a jumbled mess before Jimin raises his hand for his old roommate to shut his mouth.

“I won’t help you.” He then leans in closer, voice soft yet stern as he stares deeply into Jungkook’s eyes, “if you really love her, if you actually want her back — then you should prove to her why you are worth another chance. Don’t be asking anyone for help, when it’s your mess to clean.”

The rest of the evening goes by in silence, just the two boys drinking their coffees and eating their pastries as the evening rush zoomed by the shop. Jimin knew he was being harsh, maybe a little selfish, but he felt it in his heart that the words he spoke needed to be said.

As the car slides into the entrance to the large apartment building, Jimin thanks the other before he opens the door, and stops when Jungkook’s defeated voice slithers into his ears. “If you won’t help me, then do me this one favor.”

Jimin turns in his seat, annoyed expression stamped onto his face as he inwardly groans. “What is it?” He questions, and Jungkook grips the wheel.

“Help (y/n) pick up the pieces, protect her.”

And usually, he isn’t one to listen to others’ demands, yet here he is.

He watches you in the dark of the night as you tiptoe around the apartment, hears the soft little taps of your feet against the hardwood floor as you try your hardest to slug yourself to the front door of the home. Jimin could smell the intense aroma of the alcohol you had been downing, and before he even had a chance to acknowledge what he was doing, the light flickers on and he is met with your terrified eyes.

“Ah, Jimin–“ you smile, standing still, “long time no—“

“Where are you going?” He asks, obviously not caring about the small talk you were about to throw at him.

The face you had on was similar to a child being caught stealing cookies, and you look to the ground in regret, “to a party with Taehyung.”

Jimin shivers.

He takes a deep breath, knowing whatever happened at that moment would definitely affect your friendship together in the future, but Jungkook’s words constantly echoes in his head. “Not anymore, you’re not.”

“Jimin,” you laugh, “what’s gotten into you?”

Running a hand through his unruly locks, he steps closer to you. “(y/n), you’re becoming everything you told me not to become.” He blurts, “seeing you so, so–“

You step closer, scowl decorating your mien with each passing second. “So what, Jimin?” You press, “you don’t seem to understand–“

“You don’t seem to understand, (y/n)-ah.” He points, pushing you softly, “you’re messing around with guys you shouldn’t be, you’re drinking way too much and you’re soul is just disappearing each time you leave this house!” Jimin yells, and you flinch from the tone, “I can’t let you leave anymore, not now, not ever.”

You grimace, many questions written on the tip of your tongue yet you don’t spout any of them, only tilting your head softly to the side in obnoxious curiosity. “What are you, Jimin?” You inquire, eyes sparkling with vigor, “my boyfriend? I don’t think so.”

Jimin stands there stupidly, being reminded of the words he had so blatantly stitched into your ears many months ago, and like always, all he could do is stand there and watch you slowly leave in victory. How could he have failed in his mission to stop you? Was he really that flimsy?

But, in seconds before you were able to actually open the door and leave, Jimin finally relies on his logistic side and throws his heart away; runs through the living room and tackles you into the ground as if his life depended on it. You yelp in surprise before the harsh smack of the floor slaps your intoxicated mind into soberness, and you’re trying your best to push Jimin off of you. “What the fuck,” you sscowl, “get off me!”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Jimin cries, grabbing both your arms and pinning them above your head as he lies on top of you, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me most, I’m sorry I pushed you away when you tried to be there for me, I’m just..I’m so fucking sorry (y/n), please understand that.” He is shaking before you, but there was no way in hell that he’d let any sort of tears fall — because right now, it wasn’t about him, but about you. “I promise I’ll be here for you for now on, but just please, please stop going with Taehyung and ruining yourself even further-“

“Then what am I supposed to do, huh, Jimin?” You scream, “there is no where else that I can go to, I don’t know how to heal or move on, and–“

“The fuck? I’m your best friend, (y/n),” he chokes, his bangs tickling your chin as he bows his head, “you can just stay with me, I’ll show you how to move on!”

He is way too frightened to look at you, but when he feels your small hand against his cheek, he instantly glances into your eyes. “You’re way too selfless, Jiminie,” you whisper as your lids softly close, to which he leans in closer to your lips, “but..show me.”

He gulps

“Show me this language you once knew.”

» all rights reserved © s u g o u i — this is a oneshot, and will remain a oneshot. all and any works created by me in the past or in the future are not allowed to be modified, reposted, or translated in any shape or form.

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