#it’s the safest way to push them away while still grasping onto them
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so, i had the thought. eleven goes from a relatively giddy, haunted, and young man into a grumpy, haunted, old man as twelve. do you think he changed into something he thought clara could never love romantically?
#because i do#like how nine changes into a more flirty almost younger version of himself#because he might have thought it’s what rose would want#only now it’s the opposite#because the doctor couldn’t fathom losing someone else he was in love with#yet he did anyway#doctor who#clara oswald#eleventh doctor#twelfth doctor#whoffaldi#twelveclara#mine#clara im not your boyfriend#i never thought you were#i never said it was your mistake#self sabotage at its finest#the doctor absorbs so much of humanity#it only makes sense they would also find themself lost in insecurity#it’s the safest way to push them away while still grasping onto them#ohh companions who loved the doctor and had to watch the doctor change how i love you#p.s. the words i associate with these doctors are ones either deemed by the fandom or by the show itself not my own person opinions#because i don’t think twelve is grumpy#he’s just more up-front with his emotions which is the opposite of eleven#my two favorite doctors#+ twelve is almost a more honest version technically#his age is indeed old and he always gets straight to the point so him changing is almost a beg for clara to love him as he is#while thinking she may never love him as the truest version of himself in terms of age#idk i’m talking out of my ass lol
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your favorite pairing rn baking holiday treats. them realizing theyre both in love and having a kiss covered in flour 😭❤️❤️❤️
a/n: oh bloody hell this... this was supposed to be a little fluffy piece and it got SAD. sorry not sorry (but kinda a little bit sorry). thank you for the request my love, it was a lovely challenge for me!! (also 3 posts this week who AM I)
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A Bit of a Mess
pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader
word count: 785 words
warnings: Big Sad
Two failed batches of biscuits lay discarded on the countertop as you try your absolute hardest to get the new set evenly placed on the tray. Arthur is keeping his distance this time, watching your dainty digits with an almost timid air about him. You glance over your shoulder to see him practically at the other side of the room, which makes you laugh softly.
“They don’t have the plague, y’know. You can still help, just don’t… well, maybe just watch.” You struggle to push the amused tones out of your voice, another laughing fit waiting in the wings of the conversation as Arthur feigns an offended air.
“Look, I said I’m real sorry, but how was I supposed to know-” “-That biscuits don’t have 3 cups of salt in them?” Your eyebrow twitches and your hands find their way to your hips as you begin to lose the battle with laughter.
“Well sorry that I spent my childhood on the streets, robbin’ for scraps instead of this Baking School for Ladies you seem ta’ have been raised in, missy.” He folds his arms, but the ever growing smile tightening those wonderful, kissable lips of his gives his amusement well away.
“Oh hush your mouth, Arthur Morgan, it don’t take a genius to tell sugar from salt.”
“Well, apparently it does…” His voice turns low, almost seductive, as he begins to approach you slowly. He looks like a predator, stalking his unassuming, doe-eyed prey. You know this look all too well: you’re either about to get catapulted into ecstasy or tickled to oblivion. You hold your hands up, part in surrender, part to remind him of the masses of flour stuck to your skin. Neither option phases him and he steals a loud squeal from your throat, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you closer. You giggle uncontrollably as he pinches at anywhere he can get his hands on, not caring a jot about the stark white powder coating his shirt, pants and face.
“Arthur! Sto-op!” You shriek, your giggle evolved into full-blown laughter. Somehow, you manage to reach over to the bowl of flour sitting next to the uncooked treats, grasping a handful and throwing it over the pair of you. A little goes on your dress, but it’s a necessary damage to stop the tickling enough to catch your breath. Arthur stands, slack jawed in shock, absolutely covered. It is a sight to behold, to say the least.
“Oh, you’re done for, sweetheart.” He threatens, leaving you only a single second to register before breaking out into a run. You attempt to bolt off, around into the living room or even yours and Arthur’s bedroom, but his strong arms barricade you in, pulling you up against his hard, large frame. He engulfs you, and while you expect another overload of touch, he stays still, biding his time.
You look up at him, watching specks of flour fall from his eyelashes every time he blinks. He smirks down at you, enjoying the rise and fall of your chest as apprehension takes over. Instead of tickling, however, Arthur pulls you even closer into him so your cheek is flush with his chest. It coats you in flour, a final act of revenge, you’re sure, but it’s worth it. So so worth it.
You stay there for a while, wrapped in the strong arms of your cowboy, feeling the safest you’d ever felt. Everything is falling into place. Everything is going to be okay.
A kiss is pressed to the top of your head as Arthur runs his fingers through your hair soothingly. “I love you, y’little minx.” He whispers, placing two fingers under your chin to lift your gaze to him, “C’mere.”
You have to reach onto your tiptoes, but when Arthur’s lips tenderly meet yours, it is perfect. Standing here in your kitchen, safe, protected by your cowboy, everything is as it should be.
Until it isn’t.
The flour falling from the top of Arthur’s head, splattering your nose like white freckles turns wet and cold. The heat from the oven against your backs disappears, replaced by an awful draught through decaying wood. Arthur melts away, slipping through your panicked, grasping hands like liquid smoke.
Your eyes snap open, the breath dragged out of your lungs in a strangled cry. The noise echoes out into the empty, abandoned cabin.
You’re awake, clutching onto a dusty jacket, your only proof that it was ever real in the first place, as reality hits you like a tonne of bricks falling from the sky.
He’s gone. You’re all alone. It never fell into place at all, never was going to be okay.
Oh, your sentimental mind…
#arthur morgan fluff#arthur morgan#arthur morgan imagine#arthur morgan drabble#arthur morgan rdr2#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x y/n#arthur morgan x you#rdr2#red dead redemption#arthur morgan angst#red dead redeption 2#rdr2 fanfic#rdr2 fanfiction#MargoFiore
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Swimming Lessons.
(1-1)

Short story # 9
2,350 - Words
Fandom - Red Dead Redemption 2
Pairing - John Marston X Reader
Summary - Based entirely on Imagine # 662, which reads. imagine taking it upon yourself to teach John how to swim.
Warnings - Light smut, its just a handjob. (Cause I'm a horny bitch, especially when it come to Mr. John Marston.)
----
Looking to her left (Y/n) began snickering quietly when she noticed John snacking away on candy. "What?" John cocked a confused brow at her, still munching away. "You and your candy." (Y/n) shook her head with a grin. "What, I like 'em." John frowned, hesitating his chewing. "Oh nothing, I think it's sweet." (Y/n) joked making John roll his eyes playfully. "Ya got any to spare for your favorite girl?" (Y/n) hummed as she rode beside him, batting her lashes. "Oh I don't give Grace candy." John retorted as he pat his horses mane, his words making (Y/n) huff with a frown. "I see how it is." (Y/n) crossed her arms, spurring her horse into a trot. "Now hold on darling." John called out spurring on his own horse. "I was only playin' sugar." John nudged her shoulder, holding out a few pieces of candy. "And here I am, going out of my way to help you. And what do I get in return, the nerve of some people." (Y/n) sassed turning her nose up at his offer, a fit of giggles erupting from her when John practically pulled her onto his lap, hugging her tightly. "I'm sorry darlin'." John whispered into her hair as he nuzzled into her neck. "Oh alright, I forgive you." (Y/n) sighed playfully, adjusting herself back onto her horse, afterwards leaning over to plant a kiss on John's scared cheek. "Here sugar." John hummed as he grasped her hand, pushing a few pieces of candy into the palm of her hand. "Awe thanks honey." (Y/n) cooed making John chuckle at her, smiling contently as they continued their journey.
--
A few hours had passed and the sun was beginning to set. "We're almost there, but the path isn't the safest to travel at night, we should set up camp then continue in the morning." (Y/n) suggested. "Alright." John agreed with a nod of his head. "Where you wanting to set up?" John asked as they trotted across a bridge. "There's a clearing up ahead, looks like a good a spot as any." (Y/n) pointed to the clearing in the distance. "Sounds like a plan." John agreed as they neared the sight. "Where is it your wanting to go tomorrow?" John asked with curiosity. "Dodds bluff just south of widows Rock, there's an abandoned shack we can set up in." (Y/n) answered his question. "Why there?" John asked with curiosity. "Several reasons, one because the water up there is beautiful, and always a comfortable temperature in the summer, plus we're far away from our friends, so you don't have to worry about them teasing us." (Y/n) explained as they moved from the road to the grass to find the best spot to set up camp. "What exactly are we doing, that they would tease us about?" John eyed his girlfriend wearily. "I'm gonna teach you how to swim finally." (Y/n) stated as she dismounted, her words causing John to freeze up. "Swim?" He muttered in worry. "Yes John, swim." (Y/n) laughed softly as she unpacked her things. "I-I um..." John stammered nervously. "John sweetie, we'll take it slow I promise." (Y/n) assured him as she approached his side, resting a reassuring hand onto his knee. John smiled softly, his heart melting. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me." John whispered softly, his confession making (Y/n) blush under his tender gaze.
--
"So darling, how long you plannin' on us staying out here?" John asked as they sat up the camp, one tent for them, and the other to keep their supplies dry if it rains in the night. "However long it takes until your able to swim on your own confidently." (Y/n) hummed as she moved on to feed the horses some grain. "That could take awhile." John chuckled nervously. "That's okay, I let Arthur and Dutch know we wouldn't be back for awhile." (Y/n) shrugged casually. "How'd you manage that?" John asked as he finished up the last of the work. "I found a few gold bars while out exploring, and I donated two of them." (Y/n) hummed as she brushed her horse, John joining her to brush his own horse. "How many did you find?" John asked with astonishment, both surprised and impressed that she found any gold bars to begin with. "Four." (Y/n) smiled at him, a certain gleam in her eyes. "And what are you planning on doing with the other two?" John asked with a curious gaze. "Well someone real special has a birthday coming up." (Y/n) mused with a playful grin, making John feel all giddy inside like a little kid. "Darlin' you're just to much sometimes." John shook his head with a smile, making (Y/n) giggle softly. "You love me for it." (Y/n) shrugged, gasping when John hugged her from behind. "I love you for more than that baby girl." John cooed as he nuzzled into her soft hair, inhaling her natural scent.
--
When morning came around (Y/n) was practically bouncing with excitement, while John sluggishly followed after her. Having broke down camp and packed up, the couple continued their journey. The small road they took seep and narrow in some spots, making John understand why they didn't risk riding on last night. "There's the shack." (Y/n) pointed to the little shanty, a wide smile upon her pretty face. "The water looks kinda fast." John pointed out as they neared the small building. "It's slower upstream." (Y/n) hummed as she dismounted her horse. "If you say so." John murmured skeptically. "Are you sure no one lives here?" He added as he dismounted. "Yeah I've come up here a hundred times, no one's ever here." (Y/n) shrugged while unpacking their supplies. John wasn't convinced however and removed his bolt action rifle from his saddle, approaching the house first. "Let me just check first." John explained when (Y/n) eyed him funny. "Oh alright." She smiled up at him before he turned his attention to the door, which he pushed open slowly with his rifle. Humming with satisfaction John turned back to (Y/n), shouldering his rifle. "You were right, it's abandoned." He walked down the steps of the porch, taking the supplies from (Y/n)'s hands to take inside. "I would say I'm always right, but you've proven me wrong plenty of times." (Y/n) laughed as they continued their work, her words making John chuckle. "Oh you mean like that time you thought you wouldn't like it when I stick my-" (Y/n) threw an apple at him, cutting him off. "Yes John, like then." She sassed with pinkness in her cheeks, making John laugh a hardy laugh. "You walked funny for three days, but not once did you complain." He teased with a grin, making (Y/n) whine as she hid her face in her hands. "Can we please stay on task here?" She groaned between her fingers, making John beam with pride. "Sure thing sugar." He mused into her ear, relishing in the sight of her shuddering from his voice alone.
--
After everything was dealt with, and the horses tended to (Y/n) led John a little ways upstream. "Are you sure about this?" John asked as they began stripping out of the majority of their clothes. "What of someone sees us?" He added with a nervous glance. "We're far from the main road, and people don't really use this road. We'll be fine, and even if someone sees, it doesn't matter. What we're doing is none of their business." (Y/n) assured her lover, pecking his lips to comfort him. "Hey I want a real kiss." John pouted as he followed after (Y/n), who was now hip deep in water, having gone into the small stream that connects into to river. "Then come get it cowboy." (Y/n) teased as John stood on the back, having an internal debate. Gathering his courage he made up his mind, and began walking into the shallow stream. "The things I do for love." John huffed when he reached (Y/n), his hands instinctively resting on her hips. "I've got you baby." (Y/n) hummed before connecting their lips, the sweet feeling of her lips against his detracting him from his fear of the water. John's grip tightened when she began walking backwards into deeper water, their lips still connected in a passionate kiss. "Wait." John broke the kiss with a strained voice, looking at the water beyond her shoulder. "Hey John look at me." (Y/n) grasped his face between her hands, turning his attention solely to her. "Do you trust me?" She asked as she peered into his dark eyes. "Of course I trust you, I trust you with my life." John proclaimed with a series tone, knowing she'd never hurt him or betray his trust. "Follow me, and stay focused on me, I'll keep you safe." (Y/n) smiled softly, slowly walking back towards the river. John nodded his head, his grasp on her hips still tight as he followed her obediently. His breath came out shaky as he breathed through his mouth, his eyes still locked onto (Y/n)'s. With each careful step they moved deeper and deeper into the water, until the water rest now at chest height. "How you doing John?" (Y/n) asked as she stroked his hair back, smiling at him reassuringly. "I'm alright, just need a moment." He admitted his hands noticeably shaking against her hips. "Take all the time you need baby." (Y/n) cooed as she leaned forward, catching his lips to distract his mind.
When they broke for air John had relaxed quite a bit, now ignoring the sounds of rushing water, he focused solely on the woman before him. "I love you." He murmured softly, so touched that she wanted to take the time to teach him how to swim, something no one else had ever tried. "I love you too John." (Y/n) leaned into his chest, resting her head into the crook of his neck. They stood their in a relaxed tranquil state in the water, allowing John the time he needed to truly relax. "Let's keep going." He suggested softly. "How about we stay here, so you know you can stand up if you begin to panic." (Y/n) countered his suggestion, slowly lowering herself into the cool water until she was on her knees. "Okay." John muttered to himself as he followed suit, slowly lowering himself. "You're doing good." (Y/n) praised when he finally sank down before her, the water now up to his neck. "I'm terrified." John admitted with a shaky voice, wrapping his arms around (Y/n)'s hips now. "Relax sugar, I'm here." (Y/n) hummed as she rubbed his back soothingly, smiling when his back muscles relaxed under her touch. "You know I might just have to reward you for doing so good." (Y/n) mused with a suggestive tone, her words causing John's breath to hitch in his throat. "R-really?" He stammered with surprise, his excitement building in an instant at the lewd thoughts popping into his head. "Yeah." (Y/n) hummed softly, one hand slowly drifting under the water, and down his body. "(Y/n)." John murmured quietly, his cock hardening as her fingers brushed against it. "All for me?" (Y/n) smirked before slipping her hand into his underwear, grasping his manhood by the base, and giving it a gentle squeeze. "All for you." John nodded his head in agreement, his hips thrusting forward, desperate for more friction.
(Y/n) giggled softly as she began stroking his length, rubbing her thumb against the underside of his cock firmly, from time to time. John's mind went hazy with pleasure, his eyes closing as he rest his forehead against (Y/n)'s shoulder. "Just relax baby, I'll take care of you. Make you feel good." (Y/n) cooed and then began peppering his face and neck with kisses. "So good." John praised quietly, unaware of his surroundings anymore. (Y/n) twisted her wrist while brushing her fingers across the tip of John dick, causing a shutter to run down his back. John hissed in pleasure his cock throbbing with need, twitching a little as he neared his end. "Cum for me honey." (Y/n) encouraged picking up her pace, the erratic movements of her arm, made the water slosh around them. "(Y-Y/n)!" John stammered in a moan, ropes of cum spurting from his cock as he came undone for her. "Good job baby." (Y/n) praised her lover, still stroking his cock slowly, working him through his euphoric high. "(Y/n)." John murmured her name, pecking sloppy kisses against her neck. "John my sweet sweet John." She cooed tilting his head up to look into his eyes. "You didn't even notice." She added with a playful smile, her words causing John to take in his surroundings. His heart froze for a moment when he realized they were now much deeper in the river, his feet just barely able to touch the bottom. "See John, swimming ain't so bad." (Y/n) brushed his hair back softly, smiling at him warmly when he noticeably calmed. "Y-yeah I guess you're right." John smiled remaining relaxed when (Y/n) moved back a little, allowing him to float on his own. "It's kinda fun actually." John chuckled as he got the hang of swimming in place. "It is." (Y/n) agreed with pure joy, beyond happy to have taught John Marston how to swim. The couple spent the next three days swimming, and the next four nights making sweet love under the stars, and within the privacy of the little shack. Only leaving when John felt comfortable with swimming. The pair of them worn by the time they got back to camp, Arthur watching them excuse themselves straight to bed with a knowing smile.
#short story#extended#red dead redemption 2#red dead redeption#Red dead#rdr#rdr2#rdr imagine#rdr2 inagine#rdr2 fanfic#Red dead redemption fanfic#red dead fanfic#Red dead redemption x reader#john marston#John Marston imagine#John Marston x reader#John Marston fanfic#John Marston smut#smut#rdr smut#Red dead redemption smut#Red dead smut#video game#video game imagine#imagine#picture imagine#picture grid#rdr2 smut#Red dead redemption 2 smut#Red dead redemption 2 x reader
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Hello friend!❤️ I absolutely adore your Miya Twins works. Every time you post something for one of them or both of them I’m so elated and excited to read what you’ve come up with! If your requests are open (your bio says they are) I was wondering if you could write something where the reader almost successfully escapes or calls for help? What are the twins reactions? What would they do? I love how you write their dynamic and would love to see this idea explored! If you don’t want to write for both of them, maybe Atsumu’s perspective? Personally he is my favorite twin! I hope you are well thank you❤️
Hey friendo! ♥ We actually talked about escaping them before, so this might be interesting for you! Thanks for requesting, I hope this is close to what you wanted! I needed a reason to just make it ‘almost’ ^^’
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"Keep it down, 'Tsumu."
His brother's warning only frustrated Atsumu more, but he grit his teeth in response, the last remnants of his voice fading through the hallway of the apartment complex. Maybe he had been a little loud as he tried to voice his anger, frustration, and fear, but how else was he supposed to come to terms with this situation? Not only had their darling found a way to crack the lock on the front door open, no, they also successfully slipped out of his grasp and outran him in the moment of surprise - HIM, a professional athlete.
It was almost too bad that they missed a step on the second to last staircase, making them fall right into the opposing wall. The twins' screams as they heard the maddening crack when their head hit the cement must have echoed throughout the whole house. Luckily, the twins weren't the only shady people renting an apartment here, and most were empty anyway. No one came to see what the ruckus was all about.
Their darling was anything but weightless as they were slumped against his back, Atsumu giving them a piggyback ride back to their home. Luckily, his muscles were good enough to easily carry them around, but taking three staircases with an extra person on his back wasn't the most comfortable task even for him.
"It's your responsibility. You let them get away," had been Osamu's reasoning as to why they wouldn't alternate carrying them. "Asshole," Atsumu grumbled, Osamu giving him a glare back over his shoulder. He knew just as well that Atsumu wasn't lashing out at him, both of them going through the same state of shock and frustration. But now, with the blood of their darling's head wound dripping onto Atsumu's shirt, they also had their hands full with worrying.
"Stop making a scene. It could be worse," Osamu reminded him, but despite the harsh words, Atsumu felt the same kind of relief. At least they didn't make it out. But at what price?
"Ya think they'll recover from that?" Atsumu asked quietly as Osamu opened the door for him, both of them frowning at the busted door lock. It was crazy to think that their sweet, docile darling was able to do such a thing. However, when their darling realized that their plan failed to pick the lock, they must have panicked so much they ended up opening it this way. "From their failed escape? Probably. That wound is a different thing."
Both of them were tense as Osamu spoke out what they wished didn't have to be voiced. They were no doctors. They could patch up a cut or put ointment on a bruise, but if anything was wrong inside of their brain, they'd be screwed. Bringing them to a hospital was out of the question. Less their darling might be taken away from them. Atsumu didn't even want to start thinking about all the people that would be all over his sweetheart, touching and caring for them while he couldn't. A stupid moment to get jealous, but who could blame him?
"Put them down in their room; it's the safest spot at the moment. Close the door just in case," Osamu instructed, opening the door for Atsumu before disappearing into his own bedroom. "Bring tissues!" Atsumu called after him as he carried their darling inside, trying to slide them off his back as gently as possible and laying them on their bed. His t-shirt was already ruined as he pulled it off, gently dabbing the fabric against the wound on their forehead, waiting for his brother to bring some bandages and ointment. "Shit," he mumbled, biting his own lip in frustration.
The person he was most frustrated with was himself. Yes, he knew about what kind of power balance reigned in their house. Yes, he knew that not all he did to his darling was in their best interest. But he didn't want it to end... like this. That's not what he wanted. Pressing the shirt to their wound, he lifted their hand with his free one, bringing it to his lips. They had done something bad. Something really, really bad. But at the same time, they were so vulnerable, so dependant, and they didn't even know it. They shouldn’t have run from them, it was their darling’s fault in the first place. But how could he be mad at them when they were in this heartbreaking state? Punishment was nothing he could even think about in that moment. What if they didn’t wake up again? Even with the blood dripping from their face, they were the most wonderful person he knew, and Atsumu feared to have told them that less than he should have when he had the chance.
"Move." Giving him an ungentle kick in the waist, Osamu made Atsumu free up the space directly next to their darling's head. He wished he could have his brother's place, but Osamu was just a bit better when it came to fixing stuff. So maybe, he could fix this too?
Pushing away Atsumu and his shirt, Osamu leaned over their darling, checking again if they were still breathing before taking a closer look at the wound. "Ya know how to do stitches?" Osamu mumbled as he looked at it from every side possible. "Are you crazy?" Atsumu hissed back. "Neither of us can do that!"
"And your better idea is...?"
Fuck. His stomach twisted and churned as Atsumu thought about this.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"You do it," Atsumu spoke monotonously. Trying to hide his fear and the shaking hands in his lap.
"Your hands are more steady," Osamu hissed back at him, not noticing that they currently were out of control, only trusting logic in this situation.
"Are you kidding?" Atsumu barked, ready to hit his brother if not for both of Osamu's hands being around their darling's face to steady it.
"One of us has to, and it ain't me! I just cook! You have finger coordination!"
"But..." Atsumu's voice cracked, his eyes falling onto their darling's almost peaceful face if not for the bloody mess at the side of their forehead. Osamu sighed. He pulled his hands away, fingers covered in red smears as he brushed back his hair. "They're bleeding, 'Tsumu," he whispered, and Atsumu heard the same damn fear in his brother's voice that he was fighting with. The struggle, the uncertainty. Fear of losing their darling and guilt of letting it come so far. Osamu had been farther away from their darling than Atsumu, but he was blaming himself just as much. "What do we do?" Osamu's voice was strained with the burden of a person's life on his shoulders as well.
That's right. Atsumu wasn't the only one hurting.
"Then the hospital--" Osamu sighed, catching his composure as quickly as possible, or he might have started to cry. Instead, he pulled out his phone. He hesitated before his lock screen flashed up, ready to call the emergency hotline. By now, time was of the essence.
"No," Atsumu decided right as his eyes caught the light coming from the display. "I'll do it," he stated, determined with an unknown strength.
"I will," he emphasized again, this time, trying to hide the slight shake of uncertainty in his voice. All their work, all this time they put into keeping their darling with them - it couldn't be in vain. Their love was not so shallow. "But..." Osamu mumbled, unsure if this was the right decision.
"I'm the older twin. Trust me."
"Debatable..." Osamu mumbled, glancing back at their hurting darling. "But I trust you."
It all felt unreal. Their first aid kit wasn't just a normal, store-bought one as Atsumu always thought. Somehow, Osamu seemed to have predicted there could have been worse wounds to befall them, owning everything they could need. Chaos reigned in Atsumu's head as he watched one video after another of how to stitch wounds on Osamu's phone while washing his hands maniacally as if to wash off the sins crawling over his skin. The time was pressuring him. There was so much to note, he was barely able to remember the first step once he was done watching it. Avoiding blood poisoning seemed to be the slightest problem when he couldn't even remember how to close a stitch.
Both of them suited up for the occasion, Osamu silently bringing a new shirt into the bath before washing his hands next to his brother. "We said we'd do it together when we brought them here," he reminded Atsumu as he helped him into the gloves. "You're not alone in this."
"I know," Atsumu sighed. "We always did it together, but I have to do this alone. For them. For us."
"I'm always right behind you," Osamu encouraged Atsumu as they stepped up to their darling. A moment of silent prayers passed as they looked down at the biggest mistake of their life. Their darling.
"Let's get it over with," Atsumu mumbled. There was something in his brother's eyes that Osamu had never seen before. He could only recognize it as a point of no return. A breaking point. And yet, Osamu handed the needle to his brother, who immediately pointed it to where he wanted it to go. However, before he could stick it in, he hesitated, his will faltering instantly. What if he'd mess it up? What if he couldn't do it? They'd die. Either way, they'd die.
"On three," Osamu caught his brother, who was falling into despair. Atsumu had to do it. There was no turning back, they had long ignored the right things, and now they were too deep in to go back. He'd prove his love once and for all. Atsumu breathed in.
"Deep breath. One. Two..."
Atsumu breathed out.
"Three."
#Atsumu#Osamu#Miya Atsumu#Miya Osamu#yandere atsumu#yandere osamu#yandere!atsumu#yandere!osamu#Haikyuu!!#Haikyuu#HQ!!#yandere haikyuu#yandere!haikyuu#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere fanfiction#yandere writing#yandere stories#yandere oneshots#yandere oneshot#yandere drabble#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#Yandere TW
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Spooked
Requested by anon - a picture of your request will be at the bottom of the post! Thanks for sending it in, I had so much fun with it! :)
Pairing: best friend!BTS, maybe some secret crushes going on? 👀
Premise: You + all 7 members of BTS visiting a haunted house. What could go wrong?
So, so much.
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: they are touring a haunted house, so there’s gonna be some scary story/spooky things going on. hopefully there’s enough fun things/fluff to counter it?
a/n: this was longer than I expected it to be...but I was having fun with ot7. hopefully nobody minds lol

It wasn't your fault that Hobi had never seen "A Quiet Place". He had mentioned it as you scrolled through the options on his TV while lounging on his couch like an overgrown cat. Everyone else was in the process of scarfing down their dinner, popping popcorn, and laughing over whatever Jimin and Yoongi were bickering about.
Obviously you had to watch it.
Naturally, the conversation had drifted to a bit more spooky topics. You'd come back from grabbing more popcorn surprised to find Jin talking about his friend that wanted to open up a house they'd inherited for ghost tours.
After nudging Jimin out of the way, you took up your usual spot next to Taehyung. They all watch you with amused eyes, knowing full well that Taehyung is the only one that willingly scratches your back on movie nights.
"Really, like is it the kind of haunted house where people dress up and scare you?" Jungkook asked, his interest piqued.
Jin shook his head. "No, not really. It sounds like they just walk you through the house and tell stories and stuff."
You and Jungkook share a look, already thinking the same thing. A glance at Hobi shows him clutching a blanket to his chest, caught between the events of the film and the conversation taking place.
"We should go," you ventured, immediately earning a startled stare from both Jin and Hobi. The others chuckle in response, Namjoon swatting Jungkook's hand half-heartedly as he tries to steal more popcorn from him.
"...noooo," Jin began. "It's not like it's up and running yet, they're just working on getting it ready for the fall-"
Jungkook picks up where you left off. "Perfect! We can be their test group. That way they'll know what they can do for the general public, get an idea of what works and what doesn't."
You jump in again before Jin can protest more. "C'mon! And besides, this may be your only chance just to go for fun! Otherwise you'd have to find a way to go without running into all of those people, and have to contact management about it..."
Jin sighs, looking at Hobi who stares back at him with an expression of defeat. You grin, Taehyung chuckling beside you.
"Fine."

It was all too easy. Standing here now, you can see just why they want to open this up for ghost tours. Of course you won't admit it, but you already have chills running down your spine.
Or maybe that's just because Jung Hoseok is currently breathing down your neck.
"Alright," Jin's friend, Gina stands at the top of the steps, smiling down at you all. "Everybody ready?"
Jungkook and Taehyung, completely riled up, let out whoops and cheers while everyone else grunts in acknowledgement. Hobi clings to the back of your jacket, whimpering like a lost puppy.
This should be fun.
Jungkook doesn't bother to wait for everyone else, heading straight inside after Gina. Taehyung and Jimin are hot on his heels, joking about something back and forth. You follow after them, glancing back at Hobi with an amused grin.
"Oh," he realizes that he's still clinging to you. "Right." Extracting his hand from your jacket, he lets you move forward. He remains close behind you, Jin at his side.
Namjoon and Yoongi bring up the rear, hardly paying attention to anything that's going on as they chat about a business they saw not far from here.
"We'll begin in the front study here," Gina adopts a spooky tone as she stands in the candlelight. Shadows dance along the walls, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight.
Suddenly you wish that Hobi was still holding onto you.
Slowly, so as to not draw the attention (and teasing) of the maknae line, you step back until you're between Namjoon and Yoongi.
The two of them smirk down at you, knowing full well that you're already spooked.
"What are you doing?" Jin whispers back to you, eyes wide while he rubs his arms as though he's cold. "Trying to abandon us to the ghosts?"
You shake your head fervently, hoping that they don't notice the way you're sneaking your hand into the pocket of Yoongi's jacket.
"No, the middle is the safest place," you argue. Yoongi gives a breathy chuckle beside you, his hand finding yours in the warmth of his pocket and giving it a squeeze. Thankfully the house is dark enough that the blush on your cheeks shouldn't be visible.
Absentmindedly you link your other arm through Namjoon's, hardly able to breathe properly when he instinctively moves closer.
What were you even saying?
"A-and now you've got three in front and three in back. You're totally safe."
Hobi and Jin look at each other like they know exactly what you’re up to, but don't push it as they suddenly begin walking again. Gina leads the way toward the dining room, weaving a tale of how the estranged wife of the owner of the house swore she would never leave the property.
"Did she?" Jungkook asks from the front, peeking in closed off rooms along the way. You can't help but marvel at his fearlessness.
Gina's eyes glow with excitement, almost as though she were waiting for someone to ask that. "No. Years later, when the owner sold the house, the new occupants said they found a sealed off room in the basement." You gasp, the sound echoing through the hallway. You miss the look Jimin gives you, too attached to the story.
"What..." you clutch Namjoon's arm, the fabric of his jacket bunching in your hand. "Did they ever open up the room?"
Gina grins. "They did. They hired someone to come and open the sealed door. However, the man they hired only got about halfway before quitting. He was terrified."
Yoongi leans down to whisper in your ear. "Are you trying to cut off my circulation?"
It's only then that you notice you've been squeezing his hand with startling strength. "Whoops." Going to remove your hand from his, he frowns, holding it tighter before you can move.
Well, if this isn't a rollercoaster of emotions.
"Why was he so scared?" Namjoon pipes up beside you, a hint of a smile gracing his features as he reads the expression on your face. Oh, you're so screwed. "Did he find something?"
"It's not so much what he found as what he didn't," Gina replies. "But we'll have to save that for last. For now, the dining room. Come on in, everyone."
Hobi looks back at you, a mixture of horror and overall curiosity on his face. “Oh, she’s good.”
Indeed, Gina definitely seems to have a way with words. You’re just having a hard time understanding them as your heart beats loudly enough to drown out any other noises. Yoongi has taken to tracing circles on the back of your hand, which you think are meant to be soothing.
It only serves to send your heart rate skyrocketing. You stare at the portrait on the far end of the dining room, practically boring holes into the painting of the young woman.
Breathe, don’t do anything stupid.
“...alright?”
You blink, finding yourself to be the sudden center of attention. Jungkook grins widely at you.
“What?”
Jungkook repeats his question. “Are you doing alright?”
“Oh.”
Jimin bursts out laughing. “That’s not an answer, jagiya. Need us to protect you from the ghosts?”
Your wide eyes immediately give you away, and even Gina is offering you a look of pity before deciding to continue on with the tour. Before you embarrass yourself even more, you slip out of Yoongi and Namjoon’s grasp, sneaking up behind Jin and Hobi.
“Hello boys,” you drawl, making Hobi nearly jump out of his skin. You earn a laugh from the group, Jin chuckling at his scared friend. Hobi just glares at you.
“This sucks,” he whispers to you, pulling you up to stand between him and Jin. Immediately they stick to your sides like magnets and you realize that you have indeed done something stupid as Jin’s breath ghosts over the shell of your ear as he goes to whisper something to you.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire, it would seem. Your heart certainly agrees.
“I’m not scared, you know,” Jin whispers. You take a deep breath, reminded yourself that these idiots are your best friends, not menu items.
You shoot him an incredulous look. “I doubt that.”
He grins at you, eyes lingering a bit longer than usual. “You’ll see.”
Tearing your eyes away from his and hearing his deep chuckle, you wonder if it’s too late to ask Gina where the nearest exit is.
Don’t do anything stupid.
“Shall we head up to the attic?” Gina asks. “It’s a small space, we can only go three at a time. However, there are some really interesting old photographs up there that we should look at.”
In the blink of an eye everyone is paired off, and you find yourself face to face with Jimin. He grins at you like the Cheshire Cat, making you wonder if he isn’t the most dangerous thing in this house.
Jin and Hobi have the glorious opportunity to go up together while Gina leads the way, and several screams accompany their little trip. In the middle of the candlelight in the hallway, you chuckle with the rest of your friends.
“It’s been interesting so far,” Jungkook muses. “I really want to know what they found in that sealed off basement room.”
Taehyung hums in agreement. “Mmm. Or rather, what they didn’t find.”
“What does that even mean?”
Nobody is given a chance to answer Jungkook’s question as Hobi and Jin come scrambling down the ladder, faces pale even as they laugh. Gina chuckles from above, beckoning the next pair to come up.
Jimin looks at you with an arched brow. “Wanna go next?”
“Sure.” You follow him up the ladder, laughing as Jin recounts how he swore the woman in the photograph blinked.
The attic is filled with moonlight, and under other circumstances it might be pretty. However, amongst the old heirlooms sits an ominous scrapbook, filled with black and white photos of less-than-happy people.
Jimin reaches down, grabbing your hand and helping you to your feet as you look around. When he lets go you aren’t sure whether or not to be disappointed.
You’ve hardly made up your mind when he leads you to where Gina stands beside the scrapbook and slips behind you. A moment later his arms encircle your waist, chin propped up on your shoulder.
So there’s that.
Gina points to the first photo, a grim-looking man standing behind a chair where a young woman sits smiling. “This is the estranged wife, before she was estranged, of course. And this is the owner of the house. From what we’ve been able to dig up about his past - no pun intended - he was always deathly serious.”
Jimin hums in acknowledgement, the vibrations going straight into your spine. Unsure of what to do with your arms, you gently place them atop his arms around your middle.
You swear he smiles for a moment before turning pensive again. “Why did they separate?” You manage to ask, applauding yourself for getting a complete sentence out while Park Jimin hugs you from behind.
“Rumor has it she cheated on him with his best friend,” Gina whispers, pointing to another photo where the solemn owner stands beside a smiling man. “He was driven mad with jealousy. Terrible, isn’t it?”
Gina gives you a long look, and suddenly you straighten your spine. “I-uh, yeah. Horrible.”
She shows us another photo, explaining something about it while Jimin mumbles out a couple of questions. You hardly process any of it, staring at Gina and wondering if she thinks that you are somehow cheating.
But on who? Jin, maybe? Since that’s her friend?
“Alright, send up the next pair,” Gina croons. Jimin detaches himself from you, suddenly leaving you cold. You turn to follow him, but stop as Gina places a hand on your arm.
“Yes?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone even. Gina motions for Jimin to keep going, pulling you back to the scrapbook. She tilts her head to one side.
“Forgive me for maybe overstepping a boundary but...” she motions toward the ladder, where everyone waits below. “Don’t tell me you’re flirting with all of them.”
Your eyes widen, and a breathy laugh comes out. “Me? What? N-no. They’re my best friends, why would I-”
Gina laughs, the sound too loud for the small attic. “Well, they’re flirting with you.” She playfully elbows me. “Speaking from girl to girl...enjoy it. For the rest of us.”
Nearly choking, you frown but nod all the same. “...ok?” When she makes no move to say anything else, you head down the ladder. The boys look up at me with confused looks, Jimin waiting at the bottom to make sure you get down safely.
“What was that about?” Jin asks, looking a little nervous. “She didn’t say anything to make you uncomfortable, did she?”
You blink at him, wondering for a moment if the boys have always been like this around you. Surely not. It’s just the haunted house bringing out this protective side, right?
Right?
“No, she just wanted to show me something else. She’s actually really nice.” You think.
The other groups go up, and nothing else happens to pique your interest. Gina comes down last of all, giving you a wink before walking down the hallway.
“I think we’re ready to go down to the basement, everyone!”
Somehow you end up at the front, surrounded on all sides by the maknae line. You crane your neck, looking back to see the older boys all lost in a heated discussion. Hobi catches your eye after a moment, elbowing Namjoon who looks up at you with fake innocence.
You frown, Gina’s words coming back to you. “They’re flirting with you.”
You must have lost your mind. Was the haunted house really that traumatizing as to make you start coming up with such ridiculous things? How silly of you.
The feeling of a hand resting on the small of your back has you yelping, jumping to face forward again. Taehyung gives you a sheepish grin.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, gently pushing you forward to stand in front of him. “Are you really that spooked?”
“I...no.” You fail to come up with a complete sentence, but shrug it off. Taehyung smiles brightly at you, gesturing for you to head down the stairs.
“You seem distracted tonight, are you alright?”
The way your heart had begun palpitating calms down as you notice the obvious concern on Taehyung’s face. You give him a small smile, allowing yourself to relish the feeling of his fingers splayed against your back as you move down the stairs.
“I’m fine, don’t worry. Just distracted by the story.”
Taehyung looks at you for a moment longer, not quite believing you but shrugging it off. He brings both hands to your shoulders as you enter the basement, an obvious chill in the air.
You fight off a shiver, Taehyung noticing and beginning to rub at your arms in an attempt to warm you up. Gina immediately notices the action, hiding a smile as she pretends to cough.
“Well,” she says once her ‘coughing fit’ subsides. “We’ve made it to the final leg of the tour. How’s it been so far?”
This time everyone cheers with renewed vigor, although a part of you has a hunch that it’s because Hobi knows he’s nearing the end of this scary experience. The thought makes you grin.
“Earlier, you guys asked me what was found in the sealed off room. It’s easier to show you, rather than explain.” Gina walks backward, motioning for everyone to follow her. It’s darker down here, only a few candles light the way. Despite being surrounded by people you trust, you can’t fight the fear that sneaks inside of you.
Rounding a corner, you see a small hallway with a half-open door. Jin curses behind you, clearly feeling just as freaked out as you.
“Remember how the estranged wife said she’d never leave this place?” Gina nods toward the door and dark entryway. “In that room there’s evidence that she may have had an...extended stay here. It’s very small, and the door only opens to a certain point. Almost as though whoever designed it didn’t want to have an easy escape point.”
Chills run down your spine, and even Taehyung’s ministrations pause for a moment as he takes in this new information.
Jungkook speaks up, ever the curious one. “Wait...her body isn’t still here, right?”
Gina shakes her head. “No, although we think that she may have been buried somewhere on the property. We have yet to find her, though.”
“That...” you shake your head, shuffling from foot to foot. “That sounds so ominous. Like she still walks the property or something.”
The smile Gina sends you is enough to make your blood run cold. “We haven’t ruled anything out.” She gestures toward the door. “Due to fire hazards, we can only have two people at a time in the hallway and in the room. Do I have any volunteers?”
Jungkook’s hand immediately shoots up in the air, and he looks at his hyungs pleadingly. You remain still as a statue, refusing to look up for fear of being called on.
You swear you can almost hear Taehyung sigh before he speaks. “Well, obviously you have to go.” He nudges you forward, and you whirl on him in absolute horror.
“What?!” You shout. “How could you betray me like this?! I- no way!”
The boys can’t help but laugh at you, Namjoon clapping Taehyung on the shoulder. Taehyung gives you an apologetic look, shrugging.
“C’mon, I’ll keep you safe,” Jungkook promises, his big pleading eyes on yours.
You hate how you can never say no to him.
Gina pats your shoulder as you walk past, laughing lightly. “Have fun,” she croons. “Ok everyone, let’s go into the open area just around the corner-”
“You’re leaving us?!” You shout again, stopping in your tracks. “Noooo, no no. Not happening.”
“Jungkook will take care of you,” Yoongi says over his shoulder. “Or do you not trust him?”
Jungkook pauses, looking at you with those big brown eyes. “You don’t trust me?”
Yoongi chuckles darkly before leaving the hallway, and you know he’s aware of what he did. You’ll have to make him pay for it later.
Possibly in the form of food.
“No, I do Kook,” you sigh. He extends his hand out to you, waiting patiently.
You take it a little too quickly.
Gina was right, the door only opens to a certain point, leaving you no choice but to shimmy through. Jungkook inspects the entire area, pointing out what looks to be scratches on the doorframe. You shiver.
“It’s not real,” he reassures you, keeping his hand in yours as he shimmies into the room. You hesitate for a moment, daring to glance at where your hands are connected before following after him.
It’s nearly pitch black in the room, hardly allowing for you to see anything. “Can you even see anything?”
Jungkook laughs, squeezing your hand. “Nope. I think we’ll have to wait for our eyes to adjust. You good?”
You squeeze back. “Yeah, I think-”
The door is shut.
The door is shut.
Suddenly delved into complete darkness, your breath hitches in your throat. “Jungkook,” you whimper. “Jungkook, I’m scared-”
“Shhh,” Jungkook hushes you, pulling you closer until you bump into his chest. “You’re fine. They’re just pulling a prank on us.”
Without thinking anything other than, I’m too young to die, you instinctively wrap your arms around his waist, burrowing your head against his chest as he chuckles.
“I can’t die, Jungkook,” you mumble into his chest. “I’m too young. I have so much to do. I have a test this week to take, and I’ve studied so hard for it, I have to take it. That’d be so stupid to die before taking that dumb test. And I have to yell at Yoongi or something, I don’t know-”
Jungkook’s giddy laughter pulls you out of your daze, and if you weren’t so scared you would be glaring at him. He laces his fingers behind your back, pulling you impossibly closer.
“You’re so cute,” he whispers into the dark, making every last thought eddy out of your brain. “Have I ever told you that before?”
Finding just enough willpower to move, you shake your head. Jungkook harrumphs above you, the sound almost pulling a giggle from you. Then you remember the situation you’re currently in.
Jungkook sighs. “Well, you are. That, and a lot of other things. Would you like me to tell you what else I think you are?”
Hands bunching in the fabric of his clothes, you find your voice. “...yes.”
Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Scary smart. It’s horrifying.” A chuckle bubbles up from your chest. “And inclusive. That’s so underrated these days, you know? But you’re always making sure everyone is involved and enjoying themselves.”
You can tell that he’s holding his breath from the way his chest has stopped moving, and you’re about to ask him if he’s alright when he hesitantly runs his fingers through your hair.
If that wasn’t enough to send you over the edge, he lets out a shaky breath before continuing on. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you those things before.”
You manage a laugh. “I’m sorry that it took us going on a haunted house tour for you to say it.”
Jungkook smiles down at you, your eyes finally adjusted to the dim room. He stares at you for a long moment, and you wonder if he’s going to kiss you.
You wonder if you’d let him.
He must see the question in your eyes, but he gives you a knowing look before heading toward the door, making sure your hand is in his.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” he says, testing the door and giggling at your sigh of relief when the door is unlocked.
“Worry about what?” You feign ignorance. Jungkook sees right through your, tugging you along as you head out the door.
He shrugs, suddenly unable to look you in the eyes as pink no doubt paints his cheeks. “You know...overstepping any boundaries.” He looks down at his feet. “Making a move.”
“Why?” The question comes out before you can stop it, and you inwardly curse yourself. Jungkook smiles softly at your inquiry.
The sound of everyone chatting makes you almost want to cry with relief. They must be just around the corner, waiting for you to return.
Jungkook leans over, whispering to you. “Because we have a pact.”
You turn to question him further, eyes wide. He anticipates this, taking long strides until you find yourselves back in the open area with everyone else.
“We’re back!” Jungkook announces, shooting you a smirk. You can’t help but stare at him, mouth slightly agape.
A pact?
Gina smiles broadly. “How was the room? Did you find anything interesting?”
You shake your head, trying and failing to stop yourself from overanalyzing every glance the boys give you. “...no. I was too freaked out to even look around after the door closed on us.”
“Yeah, who did that? We didn’t even hear you guys,” Jungkook asks.
Everyone looks at the two of you before looking at Gina, clearly just as confused.
Gina, on the other hand, looks absolutely terrified.
“Ummm...” she begins, rubbing her arms in an effort to warm herself up. “Remember how I said that we haven’t ever found the body of the estranged wife?”
You nod your head but stop, the words sinking in. The hairs on the back of your neck rise up, and you find yourself shuffling over to stand next to Jin, clinging to his arm.
“Yeah...” Namjoon says, eyes darting around the room.
Gina sighs. “Alright, everyone, single file line. Head out as quickly and quietly as possible.”
You don’t need to be told twice.
masterlist
this has been turned into a series!
series masterlist ∆∆∆ join the taglist
oooh so spooky ;)

#bts x reader#bts requests#bts halloween#bts scary story#bts x y/n#y/n x bts#bts ot7 x reader#bts ot7#bts ot7 fluff#Jungkook fluff#jimin fluff#Taehyung fluff#v fluff#bts as your best friends#best friend!bts#jhope fluff#hobi fluff#jin fluff#namjoon fluff#rm fluff#yoongi fluff#suga fluff#lol this was so fun#kinda creepy?#hope you guys had fun!
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Still Alive
dream x f!reader
PART ONE
summary | Just under 20 years ago, the world slipped from humanity’s grasp and fell into the lap of mutant creatures. While most humans hid from the variants, some, like reader, grew restless in the bases they grew up in and needed out. What will happen when reader realizes that she doesn’t stand a chance in the wild on her own, and can something deeper blossom from a survival-based alliance?
warnings | none!
word count | 1.7k
I had never seen a flower before. At least, not that I could remember. Things like that didn’t exist within the confines of the city walls, the beautiful, living things. The things that reminded you you were alive. My gaze fixated on the object before I even knew what I was looking at. Its petals swirled with pinks and purples, hues I had only seen in worn-out wool and peeling paint. Deep emerald leaves adorned a similarly colored stem, all woven together intricately and standing out amidst the field of brown. I marveled at the plant, bending down to hold it delicately between two fingers. It was incredible, even better than in photographs.
I spent months looking through the old textbooks Zoe had found, simply admiring the anatomy of different flowers and plants from the Old World. She was so excited to show me. I can still picture her jumping up and down as she entered my room in her tattered sports jersey and two-sizes-too-big jeans, a huge stack of books cradled like a child in her arms. Her tight curls were always pulled up into two buns, perfectly placed on the top of her head and bouncing with her childlike movements. I had quirked up an eyebrow at her as she wordlessly dropped her findings on my cot with a thump.
“Books,” she had said, looking at me with a newfound glimmer in her eye, “textbooks. We can learn!”
There was plenty of other information in those textbooks, but the flowers fascinated me. They caught my attention not just for their beauty, but for their mechanics, too. As I read, I began to appreciate how their roots anchored them to the earth, how their stems acted as passageways for water and nutrients, how they came in so many shapes, shades, and sizes. I wanted to know everything I could about them. I had always been that way, I guess.
A nearly foreign feeling emerged in me as a smile curled its way onto my face. The muscles were rusty from a long hibernation and they weren’t sure how to react to the sudden use. Dust found its way into my eyes as my cheeks rose with the grin, so I brushed it away quickly. That, I was used to.
“A cosmos,” I said to no one but myself. Of course, it was a cosmos.
The world before me was barren, a bleak expanse of land that seemed to never end. How the fuck was I supposed to survive out here? Despite my extensive studying, I wasn’t necessarily well-versed in survival. I had no protection out here, no roof over my head, and no soldiers with weapons on watch for intruders, or worse, for variants. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought. Variants were the one thing I knew almost nothing about, despite how hard I tried to get information from the watchmen and neighboring families. In all honesty, we didn’t know much about them, just that they didn’t seem to like us too much. One week the world was our terrain and the next it was theirs. I had never met one and I wasn’t planning on doing so, but I no longer had control over that. I chose to leave and there was no turning back.
That didn’t make it any less terrifying.
Adjusting my pack on my back, I grabbed my flask and poured a bit of water over the stubborn flower.
“Hope we make it, little guy.”
One last look at the distant confines I used to call home, then I was walking again, this time never turning back.
. . .
As it turns out, walking across one huge expanse of dust and dirt isn’t very fun! In fact, it’s fucking brutal. I had no idea where I was going, that much was clear not even ten minutes into the journey. Leave the city, that was my only plan. A shit plan, in hindsight. I reached into one of the many pockets of my pack and pulled out my water bottle. Last sip, that’s not good. If I could just go a little longer and reach the forest, I’d be okay. Much of the landscape had been torn apart over the years, but there were still occasional patches of green, at least that’s what I had been told. Just a little farther, surely I would reach it soon.
The hours dragged on, all melding together into one blurry week of sleeping in a ripped tent in the middle of nowhere and barely eating or drinking. When my eyes focused on a small dot of green in the distance, I nearly brought my hands up to rub the mirage from them, but I knew better than to do anything like that before washing. Especially after the week I’ve had, too much dust and not enough water.
I had been preparing for my lunch break when I spotted it, excited to get my hands on my tenth granola bar of the week. All desire for a break left my body, replaced by the desperate need to get to that forest before nightfall. There could be water in there, shelter, food, the possibilities were endless. I picked up my pace, feet moving with fervor despite my obvious exhaustion. My pack threatened to slip off my back, but I ignored it.
I reached the edge of the forest by nightfall, a shudder running through me at the thought of spending the night alone in the dense environment. Anyone or anything could be living here, and they could be hungry. The ground didn’t feel safe, too open and vulnerable of a place to sleep, but the sliver of moonlight shining down on me wasn’t enough to find anywhere else. This would have to do.
A few restless hours passed before I had finally fallen into a deep sleep, my back pressed uncomfortably against a tree and my pack serving as a makeshift pillow. I didn’t bother to set up camp, figuring I’d pick up and move in the morning anyways. I expected to get a few good hours of sleep at least, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, I was shaken awake by unfamiliar hands and a gruff voice.
“Get the fuck up,” the voice barked as my eyes adjusted to the morning light, peering up at the shaded figure looming over me.
“Wha-what?”
“Get. The fuck. Up.” The figure grabbed my pack from underneath my head and I groaned at the rude awakening. In my early morning haziness, I barely questioned the individual’s orders. My body moved before my brain told it to, pulling itself out of the fetal position and standing up, unsteady but sturdy enough.
As I rose to my feet, I took a good look at the person for the first time. He stood tall, towering over my frame with long legs and broad shoulders. Underneath his hood, a mask shielded most of his face from me; it looked to be made of some sort of wood and with the jagged smile that was carved into it, it was borderline terrifying. Dark blond hair toppled out and around the thing, curling messily at the ends. He sported muted green cargo pants and a thick belt bearing a multitude of knives and other weapons I didn’t even want to imagine. A black T-Shirt spread across his torso, strong arms emerging from the sleeves and gloved hands gripping a satchel against his hip. If this went south, I was outmatched.
“What made you think sleeping on the ground was a good idea?” he hissed out a few minutes later as he led me through the trees, taking angry steps at least two yards ahead of me.
“I didn’t have many other options,” I responded simply, not sure what he wanted from me and still groggy with sleep.
“Well, you picked the stupidest option.”
I rolled my eyes, who did this guy think he was? Sure, the ground wasn’t the smartest choice, but it was all I had! I huffed, kicking at a rock as he stopped to check...something — who knows what he was doing.
“You got a name, mask boy?”
He shushed me, holding up his index finger as he looked around at our surroundings.
“It was just a question-”
“Dream,” he cut me off, “now shush.”
He said it simply, like it wasn’t the most absurd name anyone had ever heard, and went right back to surveying the space around us. I poked my head around at him, trying and failing to get this mystery man’s attention.
“Is that your real name?” I inquired, making awkward eye contact with the mesh-covered eyeholes of his mask and wishing I could see his face when he answered. Maybe then I’d know if he was bluffing or not. Or if he planned on killing me.
“It’s what you’ll call me.”
There was a finality in the way he said it, a sternness in his voice that I wasn’t about to argue with. A beat passed in utter silence, me waiting for him to continue the conversation and him already three steps ahead of me on the path. Dream isn’t a chatty guy, noted.
I jogged to catch up to him, slowing as I reached his side. He didn’t seem like he was going to kill me as soon as night fell on the already dark forest, but keeping him in my sight was the safest bet.
“You’re not gonna ask my name?” He turned to face me, raising an eyebrow and bobbing his head as if to say ‘go on’. I gave him my name and he grunted in response — men.
He persevered through the forest, cutting away branches and leaving a green mess in our wake. I had no idea where we were going or why I was following his lead so easily, but he seemed confident and I trusted his confidence more than my own.
“So…” I dragged on, twiddling my thumbs and shooting him a look, “do we have a plan here or are we just gonna wander for the next five hours of daylight?”
He rolled his eyes, letting out an “ugh” as he pushed through another set of leaves. I wasn’t wrong; the sun would be setting soon, and based on how he reacted this morning, he wasn’t a night owl.
“Our camp is set up a few miles north. We should get there before nightfall.”
Did he say our?
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New discoveries
Summary: The tables have turned to your advantage but new problems lie ahead...
Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Reader x Mobster!Steve
Characters: Peter Parker, Peggy Carter, Dottie Underwood, Tony Stark
Warnings: angst, language, mentions of death of a loved one (drowning), pregnant reader, sassy reader, sweet Peter, tension, fingering, a hint of fluff
Credits: Divider by @firefly-graphics
<< Part 3
Ours to keep masterlist
“Doll, please,” Bucky grunts, pressing his erection into your ass. “I didn’t get off in two months. I have this sexy pregnant girl around and she won’t let me have her.”
“Whose fault is that?” You smile to yourself when Steve scoots closer to rub your belly. “If you wouldn’t be such assholes, we could have an awesome sex life. I liked you both.”
“God, does she make you as hard as me,” Steve looks at Bucky, not hiding his painfully throbbing cock. “This is torture.”
“This is Sparta if I want it to be,” you retort, glaring at Steve. “You know, the women didn’t take shit from their husbands either. Did you see the movie? Leonidas, the king, looked at his wife for confirmation first.”
“We are not in Sparta, doll. Now be good and at least tell us who will become a father. We were good, weren’t we?” Steve whines, looking at your belly. “Please, baby.”
“I can look at you for confirmation too if you tell us about the babies. Please let us know. We allowed Peter to only do legal stuff and be around of you all the time,” Bucky husks against your pulse point, a smirk on his lips when you squirm in his embrace. “Doll…”
“Fine, I’ll tell you but I have conditions you must fulfill first,” the dark grin on your lips let Steve’s features darken but he agreed to ‘play nice’. Bucky and he made a pact to at least try to be good ‘boyfriends’, even though, you refuse to let them call you their girlfriend. “I want to work again. You will tell Peggy and Dot you are the fathers of my babies and that you are in love with me.”
“You’re such an evil mastermind,” Bucky grinds his cock into your ass, groaning as you push back onto him. “I’ll do it if you are a good girl and let me slip my hand into your panties,” you shiver, even feel your core ache but you decided to let them suffer a little longer.
“No sideline, Barnes. Take the deal or leave it,” Steve’s eyes roam your body, and you swear, he just undressed you with his blue orbs. “This goes for you too, Rogers.”
“You will take Peter with you, no discussion. If we tell anyone you are expecting our heir, you’re in danger, doll. It would be wiser to not tell anyone,” Steve places one large hand onto your belly, slowly rubbing it again.
“They always made fun of me,” you whine, sounding like an angry toddler. “I want them to see I can have what they didn’t get. Not even a taste,” Bucky’s face buries into your neck. He’s nibbling at your skin whilst his hand creeps toward your panties.
“Let me make you cum and we’ll do anything you want us to do,” Steve doesn’t like his friend’s plan, but he nods, eager to at least watch Bucky pleasure you. “Just a bit.”
“Deal,” you gasp feeling Bucky’s hand slip into your panties to toy with your swollen nub. You swear you can feel the smirk against your pulse point when he feels wetness coat his fingers.
“Our girl is so wet for us, Stevie,” Steve smirks before he dips his hand into your panties too. “True, Buck. Now let’s decide who slips his fingers inside and who will play with her pearl,” your eyes roll back feeling two thick fingers slip inside…
“Ah, the infamous pregnant girl returns,” Dot snickers, watching you and Peter walk into the library. “Look, Pegs’ she brought her bodyguard.”
“This is Peter, he’s a good friend and, you got that part right, my bodyguard,” your voice confident, you snap your fingers to watch Dot’s face fall when Steve and Bucky walk into the library. “You already know Steve and Bucky, my boyfriends and fathers of my babies.”
“Fathers?” Peggy looks at Steve who places his hand onto your belly, confirming he’s the father. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Does she pay you for that brilliant lie?”
Dot’s laugher dies when Bucky wraps one hand around her throat to slam her into one of the shelves.
“Listen, hussy. That girl is ours. We made her our girl, filled her with our heir, and if she agrees, we’ll marry her one day,” Bucky grunts, pressing his thumb against Dot’s windpipe. “I want you to be very nice to Y/N from now on. If she or Peter tell me otherwise, I’ll be back.”
“Let me warn you, sweet cheeks, you don’t want Bucky to come back,” Steve smirks, seeing the fear in Dot’s eyes. “We went on a date with you to get information about our girl. Buck and I, we said something stupid and it ended in a fight with Y/N.”
“Now be good, do your job and shut up close to my girl,” Dot coughs when Bucky finally let go of her throat. She looks at the mobster, fear is still written all over her face.
“Peter, our girl is your responsibility now. Pietro and Clint are only one call away,” Steve whispers into Peter’s ear. “If anything happens, even if only a moth coughs, call them. Nothing can happen to Y/N.”
“Got it, boss. Nothing will happen to Y/N on my watch,” Peter nods at Bucky who still doesn’t like the idea of leaving you alone.
“Tonight, we want to know, Y/N,” Bucky points toward your belly, narrowing his eyes. “Or they will be no orgasms for you in the future…”
Only a two hours are left when Bucky strolls back into the library, carrying a huge bag with food.
“Delivery for my hungry girl,” the mobster smirks, placing the paper bag onto your desk. “We have your favorite roasted chicken, salad, bread, pudding, fruit salad, and something for Peter Parker.”
You nod, while you suppress a smile. Bucky bought all your favorite food and did not forget to bring something for Peter too. Engrossed in checking on the food Bucky get’s out of the bag you hear the door open once again.
“Bucky,” Steve grunts, walking into the library, a bag with food in his arms. “I thought we agreed it’s my turn to bring her food. I even bought something for Parker!”
“I’m hungry too, let’s just share what you bought,” Bucky smirks when your eyes drift toward the food Steve unpacks.
“Uh-he got unhealthy stuff. Look at this Buck,” you squeal, grasping for a Twinkie. “I hate and love that disgusting stuff at the same time.”
“I know my girl,” humming Steve watches you stuff the Twinkie into your mouth, rather choking on it than chewing. “Slow down, doll. I got more than enough.”
“Give me that peanut butter monstrosity,” grumbling Bucky stuff a Twinkie into his mouth only to retch. “That's too sweet…eek,” mumbling the mobster scrunches up his nose.
“It’s not that bad, Barnes,” you scold, inhaling the scent of your roasted chicken deeply. “I always loved to eat something sweet before lunch. Odd, I know. Most of the people eat the sweets after lunch or dinner.”
“You’re crazy, I like it,” Steve steals a mouthful chicken, grinning when you glare up at him. “Bucky said we will share.” He defends he stole food from you.
“Your stuff, not my roasted chicken. Keep your hands off my food or your son will kick your ass,” you gasp, acting as if you did not just drop one of your babies is Steve’s.
“Doll, is the other mine?” Bucky scoots closer, poking your belly with his finger. “Please tell me, Y/N.”
“Fine,” you throw your hands up in surrender, sighing deeply. “Both of you are going to be a father. Don’t ask me why, but the doctor said it’s possible.”
Bucky grins, looking at your baby bump again. His chest puffs and you swear, he looks like a peacock when he gets a cigar out of his jacket to hand one to Peter and another to Steve.
“I knew that my boys made it,” Bucky snickers, ignoring you throw a Twinkie at him. “They can swim.”
“Mine too,” Steve wants to light the cigar when Peter clears his throat. “Sir, not at a library and not close to a pregnant woman.”
“You should learn some manners, Rogers,” lips pursed you point toward the cigar. “Maybe Peter will give you lessons…”
“Finally, out of the house,” you groan, resting your head onto your desk. “I swear since they know both are going to be a father, they do not let me out of sight. I couldn’t go to the toilette on my own, Peter.”
“I know they seem to be overprotective, but their profession is not the safest. I can assure you; Mr. Rogers wants to keep your safe,” Peter gives you a soft smile, warming your heart for him even more. “I would never let anything happen to you, promised.”
Peter must’ve seen the worry in your eyes when you looked at him. You never thought much about Bucky and Steve’s kind of business. It’s not as if you didn’t know that they do illegal stuff, but you never thought it would affect your or your babies’ life.
“I know Peter,” you smile, still fear is creeping into your thoughts. “I don’t want to sound paranoid but there is that guy again, right next to the shelf with books about modern art. He comes to the library almost daily but never stays longer than a few minutes.”
Peter nods, taking a book from your desk to act as if he thumbs through the pages. His eyes drift toward the man and his blood freezes. “Why did I never see him before?”
“He always comes here when your shift is over. Before Pietro arrives, the man is gone. I don’t know why he’s still here today,” you whisper. “Do you know that man?”
“Unfortunately, yes. That’s…,” gasping you must watch the man stalk toward you and Peter. At the same time as you begin to panic, Peter remains stoic. He dialed Pietro’s number minutes ago, knows Clint and the others are on their way.
“I guess the cats out,” the man smirks, eyes roaming your body. “Name’s Stark, Tony Stark,” his eyes never leave your belly when he holds out his hand. “I must admit, I never thought Barnes and Rogers had it in them to keep a girl.”
“Sir, I must ask you to stay away from Ms. Y/L/N. This is a neutral zone,” Peter’s voice is strong, but his heart pounds in his chest. “I know you want to get to know the girl in Mr. Barnes's life, but this is not the time nor the place for it.”
“Peter Parker, all grown and tough now,” Tony smirks, glancing at his hand which you never shook. “Shame you didn’t agree to work for me back then. How are you?”
“I’m fine, thanks for asking. Just like my aunt,” Peters teeth grit and you wonder what happened back then. “I will ask you one last time to leave, Mr. Stark.”
“Or what, boy?” Tony’s smirk vanishes when the door flings open, revealing two angry mobsters and their men. “Guess times up, sweetie. We will see each other again. I hope to get to know you even better.”
Tony waltzes out of the library, tapping his hat before he snickers. “Have a great day, Ms. Y/L/N.” Your legs are about to give in when Steve rounds your desk to catch you.
“I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t know he was here over the last days. Y/N said he sneaked in when Pietro came to take over his shift. It’s my fault he got that close to her,” Peter sighs.
“No, no…you protected me,” you gasp holding tight onto Steve when he picks you up in bridal style. “Steve, he protected me.”
“I know, doll. He did everything he could to keep you safe. We are here now, you are unharmed. Nothing else matters,” Bucky strokes your cheek, giving you a once over.
“No more working here. Stark knows who you are to us,” there is no room for arguments when two mobsters hold your life in their hands. “Clint, Pietro, pack Y/N’s belongings. Peter, Sam, you will come with us,” you lean your head against Steve’s chest, for once giving in to his commands.
“We’ll bring you somewhere safe, Y/N,” concerned Bucky pecks your lips, places his hand onto your belly before he looks you all over again. “No one hurts our girl.”
“She’s holding that odd picture to her chest for almost an hour,” Steve whispers, watching you press the photo Clint got from the library for you to your chest. “What shall we do?”
“Sir, if I’m allowed to give you advice,” Peter clears his throat, pointing toward the picture in your hands. “The photo, it’s important to her as it’s the last one her mother took of her brother. They were at a lake, vacation and all…” Steve nods, glancing at you. “Her brother liked to scare people, to make bad jokes, and well, catch a frog to watch his mother scream.”
Bucky chuckles, smirking at Peter’s words. “I guess that guy was a great little brother. I wish we had the opportunity to meet.”
“Y/N, she told me that her mother screamed and dropped the camera. She wanted to take the picture after she calmed but Y/N’s brother opened his hand only to reveal the frog once again,” Peter chuckles, wiping a tear off his cheek. “Their mother got so mad as he scared her twice using the frog but Y/N, she defended him.”
“A good big sister,” you kiss the picture before you place it onto the nightstand, a soft smile on your lips at the memory of your brother. “What happened later?”
“As I said, their mother got mad and insisted they must drive home that night. If not, the boy might be still alive. The next night he sneaked out of the house to put the frog into the pool. Y/N always assumed he wanted to scare their mother again.”
“We know the rest,” Bucky sighs, shaking his head. “I bet, Y/N’s mother felt guilty for cutting their vacation short and blamed Y/N instead.”
“According to the coroner, Y/N’s brother must’ve slipped. He hit his head at the edge of the pool and drowned.” Peter swallows thickly, hoping his bosses finally see you need someone to care for you, not own you.
“Stevie, we should check on her. Natasha and Clint keep an eye on Stark. Tonight, we can’t strike back…”
>> Part 4
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hello stranger | reader x changbin |
a/n: we are getting to the “height” of the conflict, therefore the angst is gonna start amping up-just as a reminder! This fic talks about self worth and healing from past trauma so please read what makes you comfy! In this chapter, the majority is implied, but still, please read the warnings ahead of time :)
Part 4
Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, female reader x han jisung
Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst
Tags: (of this part) college au, rapper!changbin, rapper!jisung, establishedfwb!jisung, artist!reader, explicit language, fluffy growing feelings, mentions of food, hello yes I just wanna give this changbin a huuuuge hug
CWs: implications/discussion of past toxic realtionship, implications of negative self-worth and self-sabotage
Word count: 4.8k
Chapters:
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5
Popcorn flew into the air in slow motion and approximately four hundred multicolored skittles scattered the floor like the shattering of glass.
“Yes...yes...FUCK YES!!”
Felix launched his small body into the air with a victorious screech, turning his controller into a projectile. The clump of black plastic thumped into the torn up corduroy couch missing Chan’s arm by millimeters.
“HOW TO YOU LIKE THAT?? WOOOO!!”
Your friend took a victory lap around the tiny living room that was a mess of winter coats and boots with melted snow dripping to the hardwood floor.
“Felixxxxx, you made a mess!” Chan sighed out deeply and solemnly at the array of rainbow colored candies on the floor.
“I never win. You gotta admit the way that I finished that off was extra disrespectful. DID YOU SEE the way that I down-B’d you to pieces??? That was fuckin’ awesome.”
“Good job ‘lix.” You pulled a Twizzler by your teeth and dished out a little wink for him.
“Hey! I haven’t been playing for nearly as long as you two have. I see this as a complete win.”
“Well, Chan and I were at each others throats the whole time, so, we kinda killed ourselves off for you.”
“I still won!!”
“Alright, alright, good job.” Both you and Chan took turns patting his poofy blond hair.
“Ahhh our Lix’ is finally growing up.” Chan sighed, mockingly looking out in the distance to some far away place. “But...now you’ve gotta clean this up. Lucky you’re the one that paid for the Skittles, not me.”
In his fit of happiness Felix didn’t even care about getting down on his hands and knees to pick up the pieces like Cinderella.
Chan took a gulp of his electric green Monster. “Feels nice to have you back around here Y/n. It feels like it’s kind of been a while.”
“Mm, it has. You know how it goes, stuff gets busy and all that.”
“~And she’s been hanging out with someone else~” Felix’s words came out in a cutesy little song.
“You have?”
You slapped Felix right upside the head to which he whimpered out with a much more dramatic “owww” than was warranted.
It was likely a mistake that the two of you had kept Changbin a secret from Chan. Chan basically idolized him, and you felt that it was best not to...complicate things. Every other hour Chan would bring up one of Changbin’s songs, talking about him as if he was some kind of lyrical genius. He had half a plan to meet him at the last show, but had gotten too shy and pulled you both before he could get second thoughts.
For it to be so easy for you...it felt somehow unfair.
It was definitely a mistake.
“Who? Jisung?” Chan rolled his eyes a bit like he always would when spoke of that boy.
“No...” Your voice became small, then you shot deathly glares at Felix who tucked his tail in between his legs.
“Chan...”
Felix’s eyes widened to full moons once he had realized what you were about to do. You curled yourself up into a ball slightly, sweaty hands grasping at your controller.
“Its...Changbin.”
“CHANGBIN?” Chan shot upright from his seat. “Changbin?? Are we talking about the same Changbin?? Changbin-from-the-show-Changbin??”
“Yes.” You steadied your thumping chest.
“When did that happen??” Chan turned his body towards Felix who cowered into the mess of Skittles. “Did you know about this?”
Felix made a little grunt that could have sounded like either a “yes” or a “no”-- it was likely his safest bet.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I knew it would be kinda...like this...”
Your eldest friend sat back down his his palm firmly slapped against his forehead. “Sorry, I’m just having a hard time piecing this all together.”
“It happened after the show that one day. I was walking home and I fell and got kind of scraped up, then he took me back to his place...”
Simply bringing that night back up again sent you spinning into your pool of memories: and they had a particular tendency to make you just as flustered as the night when they had first occurred. There were dozens of little things about him that had stuck with you, even if you wouldn’t admit it out loud.
There was that stupidly confident smirk of his, that little scar on his chin, how his fingers looked in those silver rings, his hooded grey-black eyes, those faint little stretch marks on the backs of his arms, and the way that his Adam’s apple would bounce when you kissed into his neck.
“Well? Chan’s voice snapped you back. “Does that mean...you aren’t seeing Jisung anymore?”
“...Jisung?”
His name hadn’t occupied your thoughts for weeks, and you hadn’t taken much notice of it. There were unread text messages from him that had fallen to the bottom of you message list, and missed calls that you hadn’t returned. Creeping inside of you was a sick and sticky feeling: the kind that you pushed deep down inside yourself to the place where things would get forgotten.
You didn’t know what you wanted from Jisung.
It wasn’t the way that he would kiss you roughly and needily, or how he would take greedy hands to every inch of your body. It wasn’t how he would fill praises into your ears or shake a little when he would finish himself off on your belly. Months ago, it would be all you could think of, then immediately forget after it had happened. That was what made it easy.
Changbin wasn’t easy. He wouldn’t give himself up entirely to you just because he could. He made you earn him, and he made you seek him.
You belonged to neither of them.
In your lap, your hands trembled with a memory of long ago: snowflakes in your hands burning with the cold and your throat scratched from all the yelling.
“Y/n?” Chan softened.
A sob had caught in your throat which you swallowed down with effort. “I-I’m still seeing Jisung.”
“Wait, you’re seeing both of them?” Felix popped up from the floor. “You didn’t tell either of them?”
“I don’t need to. I’m not tied down to either of them.” You had said it as confidently as you could, almost like you needed to convince yourself.
Both of your best friends eyes carefully held yours.
“Doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t tell them.” Felix nodded.
Chan nodded too in agreeance.
“But we’re just fucking around?? Its not like I’m cheating on anyone.”
“Y/n, you’re missing the point.”
“What? Don’t I have the right to sleep with whoever the hell I want to? Don’t you think that it’s kind of backwards that I should keep everyone in the loop when I’m just--why would I--”
Chan’s hand snuck over to yours which had started shaking even more violently on your leg; you hadn’t even noticed. The sobs that you had held in your chest started to overflow, bubbling and spewing from your surface. They felt choked in your throat, and then burned hot tears in your eyes. Both of your friends got to work, scooting in right next to you and sandwiching you between their arms.
“You don't have to be afraid.” Felix whispered softly. He smoothed his hand down your back.
“I-I’m not.” You clenched the words between your teeth. “Why-why are you guys drilling me like this??” You squirmed a bit between them.
Chan hushed, “We’re not.”
“Then why does it feel--”
“--You're doing it again.” Felix simply sighed, and rocked the three of your bodies to the tune of your messy sobs.
Chan let out little “shhh” sounds. “Stop digging yourself in that hole Y/n. You know that you’re doing it. Its more than just messing around.”
A tangible and thick silence held the air where your two closest friends held onto you tightly, almost like you would slip away. You fucking hated them for reading you as well as they did, but you also fucking loved them for being as good at it as they were. Being sandwiched like this with them was all too familiar. They had also done it on that same night: the night when your world had collapsed. That night you had been so weak you could barely hold back.
“It’s not gonna happen again.” Chan said at last. “I know that you must think about it all the time, and I’m so sorry that you do. You’re never gonna be stuck in that alley alone again.”
Felix quickly added, “We’ll be there--even if it does--which it won’t.”
“Stop dragging yourself through it okay? I know it’s easier said than done.” Chan took his black sweater sleeve to dab at your tears.
You were completely engulfed in your friends love, the unconditional kind: the kind that would part the seas and walk through flames for you. You don’t know how you could have forgotten how it had been there.
“Maybe its one of them or the other, but, I think you should tell them. You don’t deserve to tear yourself up like this over it all. It’s not good for you, or for them.” Felix laughed a little. “We’re not blind you know.”
Fat, thick sniffles clogged up your nose. Your subconscious and consciousness mudded behind your eyes and those memories of both boys: Changbin and Jisung became indistinguishable. You had sought them out for different reasons, but you hadn’t known why. Now, it was all becoming clearer.
“You like him don’t you?” Felix took his turn dabbing at your eyes too. “I can tell.”
“N-no...”
Felix didn’t even need to say who “he” was for you to understand.
“No?”
“I just...go see him sometimes.”
You would. You would see him, think of him, call all the little things about him to your memory: that scar on his chin and the faint stretch marks on his arms.
Snot dripped down your nose and over your quivering lips and you didn’t even care.
That voice rang in your ears just as you had remembered it on that night when he had dragged you out there, alone, furious. You didn’t even know what you had done wrong.
"I don’t want it to happen again.”
The words tore from your lips freely, finally. The fear that you had held so deep inside, the fear that would plague your every other thought. The fear that kept you from answering questions or giving answers. The fear that brought your feet to Jisung’s doorstep and the fear that kissed away words on Changbin’s lips. A massive weight like heavy metal chains that had wrapped around your body started to loosen.
“How are you going to let yourself have a chance at something good if you don’t try, right?” Chan and Felix exchanged hopeful little smiles.
Felix patted your hair to fix where you had frizzed it between them. “You know what you need to do.”
╚ ——————————————— ╝
[11:18]
changbin: this friday? yeah, I don’t think that I have anything else going on.
its been a little while.
everything okay?
...
i’m sorry if i overstepped that night
you just looked
...
fuck
you’ve got me thinking of you all the time
╚ ——————————————— ╝
Snow fell on your walk to class. It was the same early morning one that you shared with Minho. These days, the two of you had seemed to have gotten much closer. Even though you hadn’t been over in nearly a week, Minho still talked to you as if he saw you there every day. He would complain about little things such as how the rest of his roommates would leave dishes in the sink or socks randomly on the floor.
What the two of you didn’t talk about much was Changbin. There was some unspoken understanding now that the two of you had promised. He didn’t want to know much and you didn’t want to tell him; and it stayed that way. It was odd now considering that you had been quiet before so he couldn’t hear.
Admittedly, that did give you a chuckle or two from time to time.
Today, the snowflakes gathered in clumps and hugged each other while they floated down the the ground where they would melt instantly. This was the kind of snow that wouldn’t stick around. For this, you were grateful. In the first week of February, you had just enough of winter and longed for the green grasses that would peek from the melting white.
The tip of your nose and ears were warm as you marched onward with eyes squinted from the flakes that would get caught in them. In some ways, you were thankful. During the lectures, you would often prefer watching the blanket of white dancing in the windows behind the professors head.
Something you still had to learn however, was picking the right shoes. Your toes were frozen in the same canvas shoes that Changbin had scolded you for wearing. You pulled out your phone the check the time: eleven minutes early. It was somewhat of a personal best.
You smiled with a little pride, missing the body mass that was walking right past you and collided with your shoulder.
“Oh! Sorry, I’m so sorry, I was--Jisung?”
“Y/n?? Holy shit--”
Heartbeats rang in your ears and you felt as if you could hear the very blood pumping in your veins.
“I-I’m late for class, I gotta--”
“--No wait!” Rather than looking angry as you expected, that wide smile of his spread across his rosy cheeks. “I’m just glad that I ran into you.”
“Jisung, really, I need to go--”
His gloved hand reached out for your arm. “I’ve been trying to reach you but I think something must’ve gone wrong with your phone. How are you doing?”
“How am I doing?”
“Yeah, I was kinda worried, it was like you dropped off the face of the earth.”
You clawed your arm away. “I’ve been fine.”
Jisung sucked at his teeth, “Listen, after your class, can we talk? I borrowed my roommates car--I can drive us back to my place--”
“--That’s what you want to do? Talk?” The simmering anxiety that washed over you turned into irate heat.
“Yeah?”
“No its not.”
You slung your shoulder bag high up your arm, and walked on.
“Stop stop stop.” Jisung threw his body in front of your path. “What’s been going on with you? Hm? Did something happen? What is it? Your-uh art or something? You still do that right?”
Jisung had seen your paintings decorating the walls of your bedroom and the sketches that piled up on your desk next to colored pencils tied up together by rubber bands. He had seen them, but he had never looked.
“Why the hell do you care so much?”
“Baby--” He scuffed after your determined steps towards the business building. “Listen, I-I missed you okay?” Jisung yelled into the winter air: “I missed you. Alright?”
“Jisung, it wasn’t me that you missed.”
He stammered, and huffed up those puffy cheeks of his. In one final attempt, he approached you carefully with those cute brown eyes that you would often let slip into your daydreams. He reached out for your cold hand and took it in his. Had it been several months ago, you would have killed for him to hold your hand like that.
“I’ve been doing some thinking lately, especially when I hadn’t heard from you. I just...got this feeling like had done something wrong and I couldn’t figure out what the hell it was. Now, I know that I did. I...don’t like seeing you mad like this. Tell me what it is? I wanna see you at my show next week. I just want things to go back to the way that they were.”
The way that things were.
The way that things were was simplier. Easier. Just like he was. Jisung didn’t ask questions and Jisung didn’t take you out to noodle places just because he he felt like it.
The way that things were would have been easier and his hand did feel pleasantly warm in yours like you had imagined.
“I have to get to class Jisung.”
╚ ——————————————— ╝
On that Friday evening when you marched up to the front door of Changbin’s apartment building, he stood hooded under the tin awning turned to rust brown with age. He huffed out a little under the dinky light of the old building, but as far as you could see, his cheeks and nose had blushed with pink. You wouldn’t have pegged him it for it, but he had draped a thick black scarf around his neck in the same place where he would usually display that thick silver chain. As soon as you locked eyes, he gave you a little wave with knees bouncing.
“Shouldn’t you be inside?” Your breath vaporized into thin, white, visible droplets in the air.
“I thought that I could meet you out here rather than have you wait in the cold. I realized I did that last time.”
“Oh. Uh-thank you...I guess.”
Changbin cracked out a little smile, then announced, “Come on, let’s get going.”
“Get going? Get going where? Did you want to get noodles again?”
He chuckled, then stepped out into the lightly falling snow. It tangled up in his curling locks and got caught in the fabric of his scarf. “Hm-no. Not this time.”
Changbin looked over at you with his stormy grey eyes, something that hadn’t come to you as easily as before. Something in him had changed since you had first met him when he was standing on that stage as if it was the edge of the world. Before, you had felt as if you were drowning in the way that he carried himself, or the way that his gaze would bear down at you as if to test your strength. The aura that you once thought to be crushing had now turned into something much softer.
“You coming or are you just gonna stand there?”
One of his hands which he had tucked into his parka coat wiggled out to beckon you behind him.
“Come on. Take it.”
“Wh--”
Changbin made the choice for you then shoved both of your hands into his pocket. “It’ll be warmer this way.”
You scoffed at the gesture: it was the oldest trick in the book. “Really? Is it?”
In the cramped pocket filled with lint, his thumb rubbed up against yours. You obliged, and he tugged you close to him with each and every finger interlaced between yours.
“See? Feels better now doesn’t it?”
Flecks of salt crunched under both of your shoes when you turned the corner lit by a single streetlight. Both of the fabric of your coats squeaked standing this close to eachother. His scarf was pulled up all the way to his chin, and his hair bopped with each and every step that he took.
“You’re not going to tell me at all?”
“Can’t you just let this happen? I’m trying to surprise you, damn...”
“...Surprise? What...?”
Changbin lead the two of you past another corner to a much busier street in the nighttime: it was bustling with cars and taxi’s and it was lined with little shops on each side that leaked out tantalizing smells.
“Are we getting food here?”
“Quit asking questions.”
Two more blocks, and Changbin’s hand tugged at you all the way down the stairs to the subway where he used his own card to swipe you both in. Down there the sides of the walls were dirtied with old newspapers and cigarette butts, and the walls were of an aquamarine blue hue.
“The subway? We can’t be going too far...right?”
Still, he said nothing while he brought you right over the the waiting area, and the two of you stood amongst the businessmen in their best shirts stained with food smears and beer splatters as well as the nurses still in their scrubs after a long day.
“I said stop to asking questions.” His sentence trailed with a bit of an edge. “Here, stay close.”
A group of particularly raucous businessmen fell all over each other in a little pod closest to you and Changbin. It was as if it was instinctual for him the way that he wrapped his arm around your shoulder to pull you in to his chest where you stood on the subway deck. A dank smell of wet coats and the sweating bodies under them wove to the air once you had entered and mingled with the rest of the passengers. It was rush hour, and the capacity of the subway was near limit, so no seats could be found. You had to bury your face partially into that scarf of his as he held onto one of the straps dangling from the ceiling of the car. Both of your arms wrapped around him in a type of hug as you clung to his frame to keep your balance.
“Only a few more stops,” He assured you.
The lull of the car drew a heavy and sleepy film over your eyes, and you found yourself nuzzling into his warmth and clinging to the fabric of his coat just a bit tighter. You had never guessed, but there was an odd sense of intimacy about holding on to one person on a speeding train in a crowd of people.
“This one.” Changbin nudged you lightly, then pushed a few bodies out of your way bodyguard-style at the stop. “Watch your step.”
He swept your hand back up into his, then he led the both of you to the staircase and the sound of the city that was much louder and obvious than it was at the stop by his home. His smug smirk only grew the higher and higher that you ascended.
“Now are you going to tell me?”
“You’re horrible with surprises. Changbin nudged you with his elbow. “I’m never surprising you again.”
The skin of your cheeks were once more assaulted with the bite of the winter, and it took you several moments to figure out where he had taken you.
“Look over to your left.”
Just past a hectic intersection, there was the soft glow of lights: the first ones that you could see were yellow-white, and they were all tangled up in the branches of tree branches: making them appear as if the leaves had never fallen, but were instead replaced by these luminescent ones. You looked further past them to the entire park which was illuminated by similar string lights of all kinds of different colors: green and red, blue, pink and orange. Every single tree in the park was decorated with them, and they shone upon the area in a rainbow of colors.
“Christmas lights?”
“The last ones that they take down I think.”
“I mean...I wasn’t expecting...this” You gestured to the sea of lights before you.
The stoplight across the street blinked on to the little “walk” symbol.
Confident as ever, Changbin didn’t falter. “Let’s go.”
╚ ——————————————— ╝
You followed after Changbin under the canopy of spiny winter fingers and the lights that were spotted in between them. The passageway of the park was lined with benches on the side of the path and little groups of families, friends and couples each passed pointing out at the whole display. Christmas had been long gone, but somehow it still existed here in this little corner and the joviality it held with it.
He motioned for you to sit and brushed off the remnants of snow caked on the wood.
“I’ve got one more surprise for you.”
“I thought you said that you weren’t going to surprise me anymore?”
“Well, you’re in luck because I planned this one already.”
From his pocket he took out what looked like a thin aluminum container with hinges on the side. The metal was cold in your hands when you popped it open and inside was a small sketchbook with dotted paper and a set of double-sided colored pencils.
“I thought...you said something about colors the other day and how you liked them so I thought you would like it here with all the lights and maybe you could draw it? If you want?”
“Changbin...”
The wooden pencils were of a waxy quality; likely the kind that you could get at a corner store but that wasn’t nearly what mattered the most.
“Thank you. I mean it. I’ll draw something.”
Your heart always skipped a beat the second that you brought your pencil to the paper, and this was no exception. Across from you, there was another bench, identical to the one you sat on, and behind it, was a tree wrapped in pink lights. You set to work quickly, copying the picture as best as you could, not even caring for the little mistakes you could make. Changbin watched you from your shoulder, but you had barely taken notice. Once you had finished, you scribbled your signature at the bottom habitually.
“Here, I want you to have it.” You tore out the page. “It’s a thank you.”
He turned it over in his hand, then lightly brushed his fingertips over the way that you and woven the tree branches together and how it looked like the bench was dipped in the symphony of multi-colored lights. Beyond the tree line, you had drawn a few of the skyscrapers crowning the scene which he traced over too.
“Wow...um, thank you.” He hid his tiny grin after shoving it in his pocket.
Together you both sat, saying nothing, but rather taking in the scene together just as you had done at the noodle shop. It was peaceful simply existing next to another human being like this.
Your knuckles cracked in your lap while you recalled Chan and Felix’s urgings looking over at Changbin while he too wondered around himself.
Its not good for you. Or for them.
The man next to you rose, “Do you want to walk around a bit more? Or--”
“--Changbin...I need to tell you something.”
“What is it?” Under the pink glow of the string lights, his skin appeared softer.
“There’s something--I haven’t told you something and...you deserve to know.”
“Know...what?”
His head titled, examining the way that your face had fallen and became twisted up in the words on your tongue. He reached out to hold both of your cold-bitten cheeks in his hands, rubbing his thumbs to soothe you. You thought to yourself, there was something oddly intimate about standing out in the open with him like this: bearing yourself as such for the whole world to see, and how the tip of your nose rubbed up against his.
The words stung in your throat with a pain like acid.
“During this time when we were...there was also-I was also--”
“--I know what you’re going to stay and I want you to stop.”
“What?”
Changbin scoffed. "I should have guessed anyway but, it’s not my place either since we never really said exactly what this is.”
Your voice wavered, “I’m sorry. I’ll understand--” your arms fell to your sides. “--if you don’t want to--”
“--I said stop. Do you need me to say it again? I don’t own you or any dumb shit like that, and you don’t owe me anything either. But, I appreciate the honesty though.” Changbin pulled your forehead to rest against his, exhaling out visible breaths. “What are you going to do now?”
Just as he had done before, he reached down, all the way down your arms to wrap them around his waist.
“I-I don’t know. But--I do know that, being around you is...different and--” You sniffled, “--I don’t want to give that up yet.”
“Okay then.
You held your eyes closed, but you could hear his one and only smirk in his words.
“I wouldn’t mind sticking around either--but--you know what this means then?”
“What’s that?”
“You’re coming to my show next week.”
“Ugh, fine. I’ll go.”
Both of your breathless giggles filled the space between you both.
Your chest shook with a sigh, the kind that had been trapped, or maybe just held in for too long.
His lips were cold under the array of twinkling lights, and he delved himself into you carefully with his focus on nothing other than you. The way that he kissed you was terrifyingly beautiful: as if you were the way that each of the colors from the lines you sketched intersected and became one with the other. The heat of skin and the tip of his tongue filled your mouth with his promises that he had been composing for you since he had met you, and you could finally hear it for the first time. He had never changed the way in which he had done it from that first night.
He kissed you like he loved you, and maybe he really did.
#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids imagines#changbin smut#seo changbin smut#changbin x y/n#changbin x reader#changbin x female reader#stray kids oneshots#stray kids drabbles#stray kids fanfic#stray kids fanfiction#kpop smut#kpop imagines#kpop oneshots#kpop drabbles#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#5k words of hello stranger??? we're wildin#if you've read this far#soft dom changbin#can fold me like a chair#thank you for coming to my ted talk
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Take on the World; pt. 1
Anonymous asked: can I request something where the reader falls asleep on Rick's lap or something and the group is in awe of the two of them?
Words: 3.4K Warnings: Requests? What are those? Turns out I don't know how to make someone appear "in awe" and forgot how to fulfill someone’s request. JFC why was this so hard? Also after I started writing this, I saw the second message where you requested no Alexandria. I'm sorry to admit I had already included this particular safe haven and didn't know how to rewrite it. Mentions past violence/trauma.
The first couple of days at Alexandria are not as relaxing as one would hope for. Yes the place is a goddamn luxury resort compared to what you and your group are used to, but after everything you've been through you can't help but be suspicious. Because after literal years of running for your lives and putting your life on the line to defend whatever safe haven your group ended up finding, a place like Alexandria should not exist.
But it does and every single person in your group, with the exception of Father Gabriel, can't seem to relax. You and your large group have been given a few houses and nearly an entire block to spread out in, but you've all congregated together in two houses and refuse to wander too far from one another. It was hard to decide who went where, but Rick managed to do it without any problems. He instructed Michonne to take Tara, Rosita, Abraham, Eugene, Sasha, and Father Gabriel into one house while he himself took on Carl, Judith, you, Daryl, Carol, Glenn, and Maggie. No one fussed and seemed to be a little at ease during the day, but when night fell that's when everyone's guard went back up.
It also doesn't help that the couple of days you've been here, everyone's been called into Deanna's office for a bullshit interview so she could decide which job best fit your skills. Jobs? Skill sets? The goddamn dead were walking around eating people and Deanna was trying to fill in a teaching position for the teenagers in the secluded little town.
The locals are wary, and have every right to be after the way you all showed up, but a few of them have managed to be welcoming and bring in extra food to feed everyone and extra clothes so you could all bathe the blood and trauma away. Huh. Fat chance.
But though you've showered and managed to change into some clean, comfortable clothes, you still can't seem to sit still and rest.
A floorboard creaks and you whirl around, reaching for a knife that's no longer strapped to your thigh. Stupid Deanna and her rules!
A cleanly shaven and trimmed Rick chuckles, stepping out of the shadows and into the hallway you were pacing in as he holds his hands up in mock surrender. You frown at him, sighing, and then tiredly grin as you lean against the wall. "What's-her-face finally got a hold of you, I see. Daryl up next?"
"Carol wishes," he muses. "If he doesn't take a shower soon, I'm pretty sure she's going to hose him down in the front yard just so she can wash his current clothes." You huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head in amusement. Rick smiles at you, but that smile falls as he steps closer and lowers his voice. "When was the last time you slept, Y/N?"
You grimace and cross your arms over your chest. "I sleep."
"Ten minutes every few hours is not good and you know it." Guilty, you avert your gaze. "It's three in the morning. You should be asleep."
"Yeah? Well so should you." Meeting his gaze then, your stomach swoops at the fond expression he's staring at you with. Rick Grimes is a can of worms you closed after the fallout of the prison because that's when everything really started to go wrong for your group, but it seems that behind the walls of Alexandria those worms are trying to burst free. You lightly clear your throat and kick at one of his booted feet. "I'll sleep when you sleep, oh fearless leader."
He smirks. "Fine. Lets get some sleep then."
Immediately, your smile falls. "What?"
Rick grabs you by the wrist and starts to drag you towards the living room where everyone is camped out at. Daryl is reclined in the only recliner, Carol and Judith are on the loveseat, Carl, Glenn, and Maggie are on the couch, and there's a mattress that's been pushed up in the corner of the room. Everyone is currently sound asleep, so Rick quietly kicks off his boots and gestures for you to do the same. You do and then try not to squirm when he sits down on the mattress with his back against the wall only to drag a pillow into his lap and pat it as if he's expecting you to lay your head there.
"Come on," he tells you. "I got some sleep earlier. I can doze on and off while you actually get some sleep. I'll keep watch if I have to." Oh. He really is expecting you to just lay your head in his lap.
"Rick.." You hesitate and he grins wider. The shake of his head, however, tells you he won't let this go. So heaving a small sigh, you step onto the mattress and then lower yourself so you're curled up with your head on the pillow in his lap. Immediately one of his hands goes to tuck your hair behind your ear and you huff at him. "You're ridiculous."
"And you're running yourself ragged. Go to sleep."
You shift a little to get more comfortable, your body traitorously relaxing as Rick's fingers delve into your hair and lightly scratch at your scalp. Your heart warms and your eyelids flutter shut, taking longer and longer to reopen as the minutes tick by until you're eventually asleep.
Rick's hand seems to have a mind of its own as he continues to scratch Y/N's scalp, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips when she snorts and then grumbles in her sleep. Eventually though his thoughts drift off and he can't help but think back to when he had met her.
Rick had first laid eyes on Y/N at the quarry back in Georgia. He'd been so wrapped up at being reunited with his family that he didn't get further in knowing her other than the fact that she'd been a friend of Glenn's from work. Then the farm happened, loyalties were tested as a swarm of the dead demolished their little safe haven, and everyone nearly starved to death while on the run before finding the prison.
The prison was the safest haven they had, but also the one place with a bunch of terrible memories. The only good thing that actually came out of the prison was that, that was when Rick really took notice of Y/N and how much she gave so their family of misfits were as comfortable as can be. He's ashamed to admit that's when he started to develop feelings for her because a very hormonal Lori wasn't making things easy on him, but then their safety was put in jeopardy by a spurned ex-inmate they'd let loose and no one had time to think about intimacy.
Lori had given birth to a daughter everyone knew wasn't biologically Rick's, and died in the process after being secluded away from everyone because of an invasion of the dead. Rick lost himself to his grief for a few weeks after, but Y/N was there to unknowingly pull him back together piece by piece. Not once did her trust in him waver, nor did she blame him for turning away strangers when they had found their way into the prison. In the world they lived in, one had to be extremely careful with who they trusted to let around their family.
But then the Governor tried to take the prison by force, lives were lost, the group was split up, and the prison was basically given back to the dead after fences were torn down and walls were bombed open. Y/N got stuck with him, Carl, and Michonne in the chaos and that was when he noticed his feelings made a reappearance. Michonne had seen the longing looks when Y/N would try to keep Carl as safe as possible while also letting him do things on his own since being a child wasn't safe in the world they lived in now, but she would do nothing more than tease her friend about it when Y/N wasn't paying attention.
And just when things started to seem semi-okay, a group of men caught up to them which led to Daryl swooping in just in the nick of time to prevent some terrible things from happening to both Carl and Y/N. They were shaken, but happy to be reunited with a familiar face and tried to not get their hopes up when they started to see signs of a promising sanctuary for people in need. It was wishful thinking that the others missing from the group were seeing the same signs, but Rick pushed for it anyway.
Terminus ended up being a goddamn nightmare and Rick was disheartened when very familiar faces started to be shoved into the train car they were being held in.
Y/N whimpers in her sleep, startling Rick from memory lane. His fingers, which had stopped scratching, start moving again in hopes of her falling back into a peaceful slumber. But as the seconds tick by, her breathing gets heavier and faster until she's eventually gasping awake.
"Hey. Hey!" Rick quietly snaps, hoping to grab her attention without scaring her and without waking the others. "Y/N, it's okay. You're safe. We're safe. You don't have to be scared."
Your eyes take a moment to focus in the dark and when they do your breath stutters in your chest when Rick comes into focus. You sag in relief and his hands cup your face so you're only staring at him. You grasp onto his wrists to help ground yourself. "R-Rick?"
"Yeah, sweetheart. It's me. Just breathe." You do as he's requested, blinking away tears when they build up. "Where did you go just now?" He murmurs.
"T-Terminus," you exhale shakily. "I was- we were back at Terminus."
Rick's gaze subconsciously darts down to your neck and you release one of his wrists to cover the scar that resides there at the base of your throat. You had gotten it from Terminus, the cannibals who were luring people there, having tied up you, Rick, Glenn, Daryl, and Bob to dispose of first. The men were pushed to their knees on one side of an empty watering trough and you were dragged in across from them. All of your wrists were bound and bandannas had been tied around your heads and shoved into your mouths to keep your screams from being too loud.
But the second you were shoved to your knees and pushed forward to lean over the trough, your eyes widened and you started to sob. A hand gripped the back of your hair to pull your head back just so and the men from your group went wild struggling to help you. A machete had been placed at the base of your throat, but the man only got in a small slice before an explosion rocked the entire place.
"We got out of there." Rick's voice brings you back to the present and you sniffle, nodding, and you let your hand fall. He attempts to smile, but when you can't return it he pushes aside the pillow in his lap. "Come here."
Your brow furrows. "What?"
"Come here," he says again. He pulls his legs up so his knees are bent and then spreads his legs while gesturing to the space in front of him. "You need sleep and you won't sleep peacefully until you feel safe."
"Rick.."
"Nope. I don't wanna hear it. Sit in front of me and lay your back against my chest."
The longer you stare, the more you realize he's being serious. So blinking at him in surprise, you can't help but numbly crawl over to him. You're so nervous that you're actually trembling as you get into position and hesitantly lean back until you're resting against him. Rick cages you in with his arms resting on his knees until eventually he wraps them around your stomach to hold you. Your arms slowly fall atop of his and you lean your head back against his shoulder, relaxing. "Oh," you breath. "This is- this is nice."
Rick chuckles as he nudges your head with his chin. "Get some sleep, sweetheart. No one is going to harm you."
"Famous last words, Grimes. If I wake up to mayhem, I'm letting you do all the dirty work while I hide away."
His only response is to squeeze you a little tighter and you shift a little more to get comfortable enough to fall asleep once more.
The next time Rick wakes up it's because he hears someone shuffling around. His left arm tightens around Y/N while his other reaches for the Colt at his hip. Only he realizes immediately that he no longer has his gun and his eyes fly open. Almost everyone is staring at him in surprise, with the exception of Daryl who doesn't seem fazed.
"She's sleeping and letting someone touch her," Glenn says in awe. "How long has she been asleep for?"
Rick grimaces as he shifts a little, freezing when Y/N sighs in her sleep and shoves her face further into the side of his neck. Slowly but surely he stretches his legs out, exhaling softly and wrapping his second arm around her once more. "How long have you been watching?"
"About fifteen minutes," Carol muses. "We for sure thought Judith would have woken you up with her fussing."
"Was it nightmares?" Maggie asks. "She hasn't slept longer than an hour since.."
"Since Terminus," Glenn frowns. "I think we've all had trouble sleeping since then."
"Y/N more so than anyone," Daryl grumbles. He frowns, clearly remembering what he, Glenn, and Rick were witness to.
Carl stretches, smiling. "I don't know what to be more happier about: the fact that Y/N is sleeping or that my dad's finally loosened up to see what was in front of his face this entire time."
"Excuse me?" Rick says. Everyone in the room but him snickers and his grip on Y/N loosens just a little.
"Y/N has had a thing for you since the farm," Maggie admits, "but she kept it quiet because of Lori and was afraid of Shane and all his drama."
"And you've had a thing for her since we were split up after the prison." Carl grins at his dad's subtle expression of guilt. "I'm surprised it took you guys this long for anything to happen."
"But it- nothing's happened."
"You cuddling her says otherwise," Carol teases.
Rick huffs and then freezes once more when Y/N shifts.
Talking and muffled laughter is what wakes you, but you manage to stay still as everyone around you continues to talk. You do your best not to laugh at their obvious awe of you finally sleeping and then try your hardest not to blush when they call out both you and Rick for hidden feelings. Eventually though you have the urge to pee and you let your eyes flutter open, groaning slightly as you stretch your legs out and arch your back in the process.
Someone snorts and you grimace when you realize groaning was perhaps not the best thing to do while you were practically in Rick's lap. You glance around at everyone in the room, slowly leaning forward and crawling over Rick's thigh. "Hey, guys." You gulp. "Everyone sleep okay?"
Daryl smirks. "Did you?"
The room's occupants don't bother hiding their amusement. You frown at the hunter. "Get bent, Dixon." Rick chuckles at your side and you avoid his gaze. Standing then, you quickly make an excuse to flee to the upstairs bathroom. "I'll just, uh, be in the bathroom or something."
Halfway up the stairs, the front door opens and you glance over your shoulder to see the other half of the group enter the house. Sighing in relief, you hope their presence is enough to make everyone forget about you waking up in Rick's arms.
The minutes tick by and after taking a little longer than necessary in the upstairs bathroom, you finally head downstairs. You're more composed and ready for more teasing, but surprisingly the house is clear of mostly everyone. Carol is there trying to figure something out for lunch, Tara and Glenn are playing a board game, and Eugene is browsing the books that were already on the shelves in the living room. Carol catches sight of you as you're passing by and you smile tightly before heading out the front door.
Maggie is sitting on the porch steps and when she notices you she gestures for you to join her. You do, sighing as you take a seat on the same step as her and nudge her with your shoulder when you catch sight of her smile. "Go ahead, Mags. Get it all out."
"How did it feel to wake up in the beefy arms of-" You snort, punching at her thigh. Maggie laughs and leans towards you, her smile softening as she nudges you softly. "In all seriousness, how did that happen?"
You shrug. "I was pacing. Rick talked to me and said I needed sleep. He-" You trail off, chuckling. "He actually made me lay next to him and lay my head in his lap. I fell asleep with him scratching my scalp."
Maggie coos. "So then how did you end up the way you did?"
"I had a dream about Terminus." Her smile falls. "I woke up in a panic and Rick comforted me. That's all that was."
"You sure about that?" You sigh and open your mouth to deny whatever she's concocted in that brain of hers, but you see her staring somewhere down the road. Following her gaze, you see Rick bent over a bike and helping a child with the chain that'd fallen off. You slowly start to smile, especially when he glances up and catches your gaze before waving. "We're safe here, Y/N. You can let that guard of yours down and actually pursue something with him."
"We thought we were safe at the prison and look how that turned out." This time it's Maggie's turn to sigh and you turn to face her, lowering your voice. "If we stay here, Mags, we're sitting ducks. We'll become soft and, should this place ever be overrun, you know damn well every person previously living here will be running around like chickens with their heads cut off."
"Then teach them," she urges. "I've been talking to Deanna about expanding the walls to make room for a bigger garden. She's listening, Y/N. She's taking our words into account because she knows what we've been through out there. She knows we have experience."
"She also took our weapons away," you deadpan. "No one in this town is allowed a weapon, so what makes you think she'll want us teaching her precious locals the proper ways to defend themselves?"
"You never know if you don't try."
Your shoulders droop. "I want to. Believe me, I do, but you know we don't fit in here."
"I know, but we have to try for Carl and Judith." She pauses, taking a moment to quickly glance around. "And for the future babies that will possibly be born."
It takes a moment for her words to sink in and when they do your eyes widen. "What?" She shrugs and you shake your head in disbelief. "You're actually trying?"
"Not now," she sheepishly admits, "but we want to. Eventually. We just need to set down roots somewhere and Alexandria seems like a place that can happen."
"Jesus, Mags." You're still in disbelief, but when you see her expression falter as if ashamed, you're quick to grab onto her hand and squeeze. "Okay. I'll try for the kids and for my future godchild."
Maggie snorts and turns her hand to squeeze yours in return. "And while you're at it, try with Rick. The sexual tension is getting to be a bit much."
"And the moment's ruined." You're quick to toss her hand aside and stand up, ignoring her laughter and then staring longingly at Rick. You sigh softly before turning to mumble, "If I ever get that man in the sack, you and the rest of the house will only have yourselves to blame. I don't want to hear any complaints about traumatizing noises."
She laughs out loud, holding her hands up in mock surrender. "If you get that man in the sack, I'll be so proud of you."
"Yeah, yeah. Just you wait and see."
#twd gen fic x reader#rick x reader#rick grimes x reader#the walking dead imagine#rick grimes imagine#the walking dead#rick grimes#maggie greene#daryl dixon#carol peletier#glenn rhee#carl grimes
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And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Three: A New Alliance
Both Chishiya x OC or a Chishiya x Reader depending on how you wish to read it.
You can find this - along with the first and second chapters - on AO3 here. The formatting is a little better on AO3, but it’s here if you prefer Tumblr :)
Thanks for reading!
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According to the phone I had picked up in the Jack in the Box game, I had an eight-day visa. That could only mean that the card number of each game was equivalent to the number of days you were awarded on your visa. And the suits? Well, I still hadn’t figured that out just yet.
It was eight days of calm… eight days of sleeping away the burnt singe that came with every breath, and the taste of smoke that lingered on my tongue. But it was eight days that I couldn’t have let go to waste. The day after my win, I visited a deserted bookstore and swiped several Japanese language textbooks off the shelves. I hated the idea of stealing them as they were luxuries, but it wasn’t as if I could pay for them either. Money had no value in this strange, gruesome world.
I picked out the textbooks that I hadn’t been able to afford in my previous life and spent eight days cramming my head with as much Japanese as I could. If I was going to survive, I couldn’t keep going into games with a scrambled-up knowledge of the rules.
But naturally, eight days isn’t enough to learn a language, and far too quickly, my visa was due to expire.
This time, when I left the apartment, I walked further from the city centre to see if the games were spread out right across Tokyo or confined to a limited space. Then I stopped in the middle of the street, the cool night air whipping around me.
A light glared bright on the horizon.
Here we go again.
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The apartment complex was around seven storeys in height, each floor glaring under blue strip lights. Following the signs once more, I walked up a set of stairs and through the entrance to find ten other figures stood around waiting. A few of them looked at me curiously, probably trying to suss out whether I was new to this or not. Ignoring them, I took a phone from the table in the centre of the room.
‘FACE REGISTRATION IN PROCESS.
PLEASE WAIT FOR THE GAME TO COMMENCE’
Like always, I snuck my way into a corner and let my eyes drift over the players around me. If our lives were on the line, who could I team up with? Who couldn’t I trust?
Trust nobody.
It was a motley crew. There was girl with bobbed hair doing stretches on the floor, a middle-aged woman still clutching her handbag, two hardened men who looked ready for anything, a peculiar man with a hat, two young women who were clearly best friends, a guy dressed in blue who kept asking what was going on, and –
White Hoodie.
He was staring at me from beneath his hood, with that same arrogant smirk decorating his features.
‘I look forward to seeing you again in another game.’
It was almost as if he had planned this.
His staring stirred something uncomfortable within me, as if I were a creature only just noticing too late the eyes of a predator lurking in the foliage. I nodded at him, hoping he would lose interest. And sure enough, it worked, as his features relaxed and his eyes lowered back to the ground.
I let out a shaky breath. Avoid him. Definitely avoid him.
There were footsteps as two tall young men waltzed through the entrance. They looked a little dishevelled and they glanced around anxiously. But from the way they immediately went to the phones, this wasn’t their first game. The strange man in the hat started talking to them, but I tuned out their voices. I needed to focus on the situation at hand.
‘REGISTRATION CLOSED. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.’
The talking hushed as everyone listened closely and peered at their phones.
‘GAME – TAG
DIFFICULTY – FIVE OF SPADES
TIME LIMIT – 20 MINUTES.’
‘RULES –
RUN AWAY FROM THE TAGGER.
FIND THE SAFEZONE IN ONE OF THE ROOMS WITHIN THE TIME LIMIT.
AFTER THIS, THE TIME BOMB HIDDEN IN THE BUILDING WILL EXPLODE.
THE GAME WILL BEGIN IN TWO MINUTES.’
I was almost proud of myself. I had been able to understand more of the grammar this time rather than relying on the select words I could pick up.
The players around me had started moving toward the stairs. And if the game officially began in two minutes, that meant we were able to choose our starting location.
White Hoodie instantly moved towards the elevator, but he was the only one, and I didn’t want to be stuck in there with him.
Instead, I waited a moment, before hopping into the elevator with the two hardened men. Pressing the button for floor seven, I waited for them to choose their floor, but instead they just glanced down at me silently. When the elevator doors opened, I scanned the area for the best place to observe as the two men stepped out in front of me.
A corner would be bes—you’re kidding me.
White Hoodie was in the very corner that I had set my sights on. He was waving, possibly at the two men, possibly at me.
Nope, I thought. I’m not doing this.
I stepped back into the elevator and jabbed the button for floor six. Irritation. That was all I could feel as I made my way to the same corner, one floor down. He’d only gone and taken the safest seat in the house, leaving me no choice but to opt for second-best instead. It’s true, I could’ve taken the seventh-floor corner on the other side of the block, but I’m not sure the two hardened men would’ve wanted a tag along. Perhaps it was stupid or stubborn of me to do this, but I didn’t have the patience to deal with White Hoodie’s psychotic calmness. He would make a smart ally, that’s for sure, but someone like him wouldn’t hesitate to throw someone like me under the bus.
I propped my elbows up on the edge of the walkway, observing the other players as they scattered throughout the building like chess pieces. Some were using the extra time to test the locked doors while they could.
‘Everyone looks like they’re about to die, as usual.’
I groaned and looked up at the ceiling above me. How can I still hear his snarky commentary from all the way down here?
If it weren’t a life-or-death situation, I’d have gone down yet another floor just so I wouldn’t have to listen in. But there was no time for that.
‘GAME START – THE TAGGER IS NOW ON THE MOVE.’
Everyone was silent. I could see them all poised, terrified, waiting, as trumpets filled the air, echoing through the long walkways and staircases. A racing fanfare? I held my breath, waiting for something to happen. For the tagger to make themselves known.
And then, a chime.
The elevator doors opened up. They opened up on floor six – my floor.
My heart jumped at the sight. He was tall, clearly well-built despite being shrouded in a coat. But what was most striking was his head, or should I say, his mask. He was wearing a large mask stylized as a horse head. The racing fanfare suddenly clicked into place… as did something else.
He was holding a submachine gun.
And he was looking right at me.
‘Shit!’
Fueled by adrenaline, I ran to the far edge of the walkway, hoisting myself up onto the balcony as the tagger calmly made his way closer, getting ready to aim. Clasping onto the drainage pipe, which trembled under my weight, I prayed that it wouldn’t collapse to the ground. The metal groaned as I pulled myself up with strength I didn’t know I had.
I heard the bullets before I felt them, a small, sharp whoosh of air that burst across my skin.
I’m almost there! Almost there. Just a little more.
The tagger was leaning out now, growing closer and closer while firing away and missing me only by a hair’s breadth. Soon he’d be close enough to aim properly. Channeling all my energy, I pushed my feet against the pipe joins, trying to pull my body up just a little further.
A hand reached out.
Clinging to the pipe with one arm, I grasped the hand and felt myself being pulled up against the balcony and onto the seventh floor where I rolled to the ground.
The gunshots stopped.
I couldn’t move from where I lay, staring at the roof as I tried to catch my breath. My muscles quivered, shivering with fight or flight.
‘危なかった,’ a familiar voice said. That was dangerous.
My eyes slid over to my rescuer. White Hoodie was leaning against the balcony.
‘でも,’ he continued. ‘感心した.’
I frowned, confused, trying to think back to the textbook I had poured over. The eight days of studying had almost gone to waste.
‘Sorry,’ I said, still a little breathless. ‘I don’t know what that word means.’
He laughed, a short puff of air. ‘It means you’re an idiot,’ he said. ‘You should’ve stayed up here rather than being stubborn.’
I pushed myself up and sat against the wall, as I wasn’t confident I had it in me to stand just yet.
Then, he added, ‘you’re also completely unprepared for a Spades game.’
Oh? So the suit does have something to do with the nature of the games…
I gave him a questioning look, hoping he’d elaborate, but he simply turned around to observe the game going on around us. I didn’t take his dismissal personally. It was hardly the time or place.
It must’ve been a few minutes I spent sitting there before I eventually decided to stand. Now that the adrenaline had passed, my muscles were beginning to ache. But I couldn’t let that keep me from the game; I needed to be able to run if the tagger came up here. I stood next to White Hoodie, observing the players around us.
From the third floor, gunshots and wet gurgled shrieks resounded. Left, right and centre, players flopped, limp as dolls as floor sprayed across the walls. We watched on as the two young women were slaughtered one by one, the second one wasting a perfect opportunity to escape by instead throwing her shoe at the tagger.
‘He was reloading his gun,’ I said, incredulous. ‘She could’ve gotten away so easily.’
Beside me, he made a noise of agreement, then we fell into silence. Even though we only had 20 minutes in total, it seemed to last a lifetime. Things got interesting very quickly when the two disheveled men started running across their floor, one of them shouting that everyone should call out the tagger’s location and help each other.
‘It’s not a bad idea,’ White Hoodie said, ‘but nobody will respond.’
‘You don’t know that,’ I replied. ‘Somebody might.’
At that moment, the girl with the bobbed haircut yelled out, ‘the tagger’s moving! He’s on the fourth level of the central area! Anyone who’s nearby, run!’
At first, I felt a sense of satisfaction that he had been proven wrong. But then the same girl tried to save the middle-aged woman, before leaping off the side of the balcony and climbing a drainpipe with the agility and grace of an expert. I tried not to feel jealous. I tried.
She makes it look so easy. And she did it while dodging all those bullets too.
‘A climber? How interesting…’ White Hoodie mused. Leaning toward me, he added, ‘you see, that’s how you’re supposed to climb things.’
‘Shut up,’ I snapped. ‘I never asked for your opinion.’
He gave me that same condescending look that he had back in the entrance, and I squirmed inside. After that, we returned to silence. I checked the time on my phone. We only had 12 minutes left. It wasn’t long before we needed to head to the safezone, wherever that may be. Eying the guy next to me, I wondered whether he knew exactly where it was but was waiting until the last minute.
Gunshots sounded once again. However, this time they were coming from a floor just below us. The tagger was firing his gun at a door across the walkway on a floor below. In between gunfire, the scared newbie from the beginning peeked his head over the edge of the balcony, before ducking down again in fright.
Something wasn’t right. It was quite a considerable distance for the tagger to shoot, and so far, he had just been shooting anyone he came across at random rather than targeting those on different floors.
Unless… that door behind him.
‘That’s it, isn’t it?’ I said.
White Hoodie nodded and glanced at his phone. He then pulled off his signature hood, revealing his pale hair once more.
‘Should we begin?’
I didn’t like the idea of tagging along behind him, but he seemed to know what he was doing. I clearly couldn’t trust him, but at the same time, he’d helped me up the balcony. He didn’t have to do it, but he had. But then what if it was so he could later use me as a human shield? There were too many what-ifs, and it was impossible to tell whether to consider him an ally.
Up ahead, he stopped. He turned around to where I was still standing, lost in thoughts.
‘Aren’t you coming?’
I won’t trust you, but I’ll stand by you.
‘What’s your name?’ I asked.
He smirked. ‘Chishiya.’
Somehow, it suited him. And it felt more like an alliance now that I knew his name.
I gave a firm nod. ‘I’m coming, Chishiya.’
Jogging to catch up, I followed behind him as we made our way downstairs. The tagger seemed to be on one of the lower floors, but this didn’t make me any less apprehensive as I stayed a few paces behind Chishiya, unable to stop myself from staring at the white tendrils of his hair that blew back in the breeze.
As we approached the door, another familiar face appeared. It was the disheveled one who’d suggested we all work together. Looking at him up-close, he had a friendly, attractive face, but his hair looked like it’d seen better days.
‘I see you noticed it too,’ Chishiya said.
The man nodded, although he looked unsure. His hand rested on the doorknob, but he didn’t seem willing to go any further.
Chishiya raised a brow. ‘Aren’t you going to open it?’
The man glanced between the two of us, then said slowly, ‘if I was the tagger, I’d have just stayed here. There’s something missing in this game, something we haven’t thought about.’
He had a point. There was likely more to this ‘safezone’ than the rules had specified, just like how one of the codes in the Jack in the Box game had been a lie. There was probably a trap hidden somewhere behind the apartment door.
‘That’s probably true,’ Chishiya agreed, then pulling out his phone, added, ‘but there’s no time.’
He also had a point. There was only three minutes of the game left before the bomb detonated and it was game over for everyone.
The man nodded, and slowly opened the door.
I hid behind Chishiya as the three of us quietly entered. The place was just an empty room, with nothing particularly safeabout it. But at the far end, there was another door. That was probably the real safezone. The three of us made to inspect it –
Click.
Chishiya was pushed aside, his body thrown onto mine as we fell to the ground. Deafening gunshots rained everywhere, marring the walls and ceiling.
A second tagger!
I felt Chishiya’s weight suddenly leave me as he crawled to his knees. Scrambling out of the way, I saw Chishiya hastily pulled a battered Walkman out of his pocket. To my surprise, he pushed it against the second tagger, and electricity juddered from one end, sparks flying.
No, not a Walkman… a taser!
The moment it touched his skin, the tagger spasmed and jerked before dropping to the ground. Beside me, Chishiya climbed to his feet and offered a hand to pull me up. Together, the three of us stared in amazement between the converted taser and the still body on the floor.
Chishiya inspected his weapon. ‘It’s good to come prepared—’
Bullets burst through the air, the room glowing orange. I barely noticed the hand clamped like a vice around my wrist as my body was dragged outside, the door slamming shut behind us. The metal of the door protruded grotesque as fresh bullets hit, and I glared at Chishiya in disbelief.
‘He’s still in there! We can’t just leave him!’
For the first time, he seemed to be out of breath. ‘Do you want to die?’ he asked dryly.
Then his eyes, suddenly hard and serious, began to drift down further, coming to a stop on my upper arm. I followed his gaze to discover that a large red stain was oozing from my upper arm. Even by the second, the blood was rapidly soaking the fabric of my clothes. Perhaps I should have been panicking. Perhaps the sight should have made me more worried, but it didn’t. If the bomb detonated, we’d be dead, and a gunshot wound wouldn’t matter.
‘I can’t feel it,’ I told Chishiya. It was the truth.
He pursed his lips, staring darkly at the messy red wound. ‘You will soon.’
I sighed. We probably only had about two minutes, if that, to clear the game.
‘Let’s go back inside,’ I suggested. ‘I’ll go in first if you want.’
The scorn on his expression was quite something. Now standing, we both inched the door open, to find the room empty. Or at least, the main room was empty. The door at the back had been forced open, and a series of struggled groans could be heard.
Chishiya went first, creeping towards the doorframe and peering his head around. He whipped back as another wave of bullets scattered across the wall opposite.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked, scanning him over.
‘Of course I am,’ he said. ‘There’s two buttons in there. Two people need to press them to clear the game.’
Should’ve seen this coming. It wouldn’t be so easy.
By now, although I hated to admit it, Chishiya had been right; my arm was just starting to throb. In another few minutes, it would likely become too painful to move freely.
Suddenly there was a crash, and a familiar female voice could be heard inside the room. From what I could remember of her, it was the climber girl. Leaning into the doorway once more, Chishiya hesitated, holding the makeshift taser in his hand.
‘TEN SECONDS REMAINING.’
There’s no time for this!
Snatching the taser from his fingers, I ignored the pulse of pain from my arm and sprinted into the room. Then, ducking low, I shoved the taser into the tagger, feeling the electricity shudder violently through the Walkman and around my fingers.
‘FIVE… FOUR… THREE…’
The tagger slumped against the wall.
‘TWO…’
The man and the climber girl launched themselves across the room.
‘ONE.’
Their palms hit the buttons.
‘GAME CLEAR – CONGRATULATIONS!’
#alice in borderland#chishiya#chishiya shuntaro#chishiya x oc#chishiya x reader#chishiya alice in borderland#kuina#arisu#usagi
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~~\~/Leona Kingscholar\~/~~ (smut)
I don’t even like Leona that much tbh... I just think he’s very gorgeous.
This is a Leona x Female Reader story.
The intro/opening scene is a tad lengthy (it involves everything above the cut), so sorry about that! I do hope you enjoy this though <3

Oh... What's going? What's going on, what's going on?
Your heartbeat quickened in your chest. Faster, faster, as the bathroom lights flickered on and off. You had been in the shower of the royal palace, the water blistering hot, when, suddenly, the lights began to flicker and blink. Not just once or twice, but many times over so that it frightened you badly, making you shiver beneath the hot water.
You stumbled out of the shower, your head dizzy from fright. You looked up to see that the lights hanging above the bathroom mirror were doing exactly what it seemed they were from behind the shower curtain--simply flickering and flickering as if they were panicking.
You looked next toward the light dimmers to see if they were being messed with, but to a strange solace, they were not. They stayed put, the brightness on the highest setting, completely out of control over their own lights.
Just as you were about to run and inspect, the lights stopped flickering. As suddenly as it had started, it had stopped. You were left in complete light, so peaceful, so white, as if nothing had disturbed the night.
You sighed out in relief, the fear leaving you as the air did.
The lights then went off again.
No flickering, twitching, blinking from the white lights above. No light at all, no comfort for you. Just a simple, horrible darkness.
You rushed across the floor in a hurry to find your bathrobe. Wrapping it tightly, you left the steaming bathroom and stepped into the cold hallways. The castle's air chilled you beneath your robe, like crisp winter air breezing past your shower-burnt skin.
With your eyes adjusting to the dark little by little, you felt your way around the hall with your hand pressed and gliding past the wall.
You entered your bedroom, where you always felt the safest, and stood behind the closed door, waiting for your eyes to adjust to the dark. The water from your wet skin dripped onto the floor, and your bathrobe soaked up the rest. You felt cold in the dead of this night, thoroughly chilled, down to the bone.
You walked over to your window to see if something from outside had disturbed the light within.
That's strange... It's raining, but why is there no sound? you wondered, I normally hear every drop that hits the roof when it rains, yet this rain is silent. Why is it so quiet when it is so heavy? And why is the power out when there is no thunder? No lightning?
Something was strange, you knew that immediately.
"Haha..." his laughter was but a low breath, "Are really so afraid of a bit of rain?" You recognized the voice immediately as belonging to the young prince of the castle.
"Leona!" You shrieked, "You did this, didn't you? You turned out all the lights in this part of the wing! You wanted to scare me and make it dark so I wouldn't see you entering my bedroom!" All the adrenaline that had flowed inside you from fear now poured out in anger toward that devious prince of whom you were certain had caused this.
His laughter only grew stronger. "You really have the audacity to scream at me like that?" His tone was loud and stiff as he stalked up behind you slowly... A lion creeping onto his prey. That's all this was, after all.
Before you could respond, before you could know what's going on, you felt yourself growing colder yet again. Before you could even breathe, Leona had pulled your bathrobe off from behind.
On instinct, you quickly wrapped your arms around yourself, more concerned about keeping warm rather than hiding your body, for you knew that Leona couldn't see you anyways in this darkness.
And before you could react in any way, before you could do anything about your naked state, Leona was pressed up behind you. His shirt was thin and made of cotton---you could feel that right away---and it was left unbuttoned, too.
His arms slid up around your waist, and resting his chin on your shoulder, he whispered, "I am one of the heads of this place... I can do whatever I wish, even to you."
With his right hand, he lifted your chin up until you could see every outline of his face that the darkness otherwise hid. He kept you like that for a while, the space between you two becoming warm and wet, before he pressed his lips hard against yours.
His tongue was almost immediately in your mouth, and you accepted it with just as much greed. His lips were all over against yours, and his teeth pinched at your skin when they strayed too close to your lip.
Oh... You fluttered your eyes and leaned back into his chest. Maybe it was the way he held you so firmly, or the way he kissed you so passionately, so hotly, or the saliva you could feel dripping from the corners of your mouth--or maybe it was the simple thing of being so warm and unclothed before him... Whatever it was, it made your body excited, and made your vagina wet and uncomfortable, aching desperately to have him throb inside.
He released your mouth from his, and you breathed out slowly while lowering your head back down. His chin was resting on your shoulder again, and with his voice deeper now, he breathed, "You're enjoying this way too much for girl who was furious at me just a moment ago."
His right hand moved to your bare breasts, while his left went up to cover your lips. He pushed one of his fingers into your mouth for you to bite and suck, but kept the rest pressed over your lips so that it restrained you entirely of any sound that may come out. You moved your tongue around his finger, sucking gently at the skin as your body quickly heated from your cheeks, to your shoulders, and to your back.
His attention now focused on your chest, Leona moved his hand around to caress. In the dark, it was easy for you to notice just how large, delicate, and strong his hands really were... His fingers, which seemed longer now than they ever had before, payed fine attention to ever detail of your waist and chest. They lingered at your breast, groping and squeezing the soft flesh and pinching at your hardening nipples. Your vagina ached at his touch, and your body seemed to scream for him to prod more and more. You arched your back slightly, lifting your breasts forward as he fondled with them, and as you were still pressed against him from behind. His fingers then trailed over your stomach, tracing over your ribs and sending shivers down your back in your heated state. He moved his hand along your sides, gliding his nails over your skin before grabbing your waist firmly and moving his hand downward until he reached your hip. There wasn't a place left untouched. He was gentle at first, trying to feel as much as he can for himself, before he soon touched you rougher... and rougher... It drove you wild.
You wanted so badly to voice your pleasure, to tell him with all your desperation to continue more, more, more... But with his hand at your mouth, you could not say a word. You only continued to suck on his finger, growing more aggressive with your teeth and your tongue as you moaned into his palm.
His hand went further down, rubbing over your hips and sliding around your thighs. Leona pushed his index finger in between your legs, slowly moving his way around and around your clit. You trembled at the touch, and you opened your legs further apart. Your left bare foot brushed over his.
You shut your eyes tight and bit down on his finger, sucking it abrasively. You badly wished to gasp or moan or do something to make him know that you hopelessly needed him to quicken his pace and take you all the way, deeper into rapture. 'I could be doing this to your dick instead of your finger if you just get me out of this position!' you wanted to say, but his hand gagged you and kept you silent of all sound.
He ran his tongue over your neck and down to your shoulders, leaving a trail of his saliva upon your skin. You could feel him growling quietly as his body also began to warm up to the same temperature as yours, and his breath felt somehow cooling against your heated skin.
Taking his hand away from your mouth, and removing his finger that you had made wet with spit, Leona moved it down to your hips as well. He grasped the flesh of your thighs and pushed another finger into your vagina, rushing it even further and deeper into you.
With your mouth now uncovered, you let out every moan and whimper that had been concealed. You pressed your back further into Leona's chest, leaning into him as you tried move your body against his fingers up inside you. Your chest spread with overwhelming heat, and you began to gasp for breath.
Leona then brought his other hand to your clit, using those fingers to gently stretch the skin around. You gave a delightful and desperate whimper at the feeling, one that begged him to go even more.
Leona was beginning to grow unbearably aroused as well, and he started rubbing his dick every slightly against your body through the pants he wore. He worked his fingers more aggressively, winding them in and out and circling all around inside you. The liquids spilling from your vagina dripped onto his palms and the inner parts of your thighs.
"Please, Leona...! Faster, please...!" you pleaded through your heavy breaths. But, instead of complying to your demands, he slipped his fingers out of you and moved his hands away, causing you to groan in frustration.
He moved his hands up to your waist and quickly spun you around to face him. As he unbuckled his belt, he breathed out heavily and said in a low rasp, "Not just yet, Kitten."
Stepping out of his pants that had fallen to the floor, he grabbed you roughly and pulled you into another passionate kiss. Your dripping tongues mingled against one another, and he drew your hips up to his.
Thank you <3 <3
#twisted wonderland#leona kingscholar#twisted#twisted wondereland oneshot#twistedwonderland#disney twst#twisted wonderland smut#twst smut#smut fanfiction#smut fanfic#leona#leona x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#leona smut#leona kingscholar smut#my fanfic#my fanfiction#my writing
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First Blood

MASTERLIST
Characters: Henry Cavill x Reader (Oneshot)
Summary: Playing games with Henry can be crucial especially when all your teammates were boys because decisions from a gamer girl has always been disregarded resulting in you getting first blood because Henry’s new mouse also wanted to annoy the heck out of you in rank game.
Warnings: FLOOF. Curses. Shy reader who ain’t used to physical intimacy. Also reader having her own issues about it. (Probably trauma but it isn’t said specifically) Making out. Daddy-kink. Reader just doesn’t know how to react with her own kinks. Martin is just a name I’ve come up with as Henry’s friend. The game is in a group of five in this one. A lil’ bit of sexual tension too?
Words: 2.5k
A/N: Y’all don’t know how difficult it is to find a girl who plays MMO games out there. *sits here while I play with my guild full of men where I panic every time I play because I feel judged by them 😭😂 I’M A NOOB, ALRIGHT. 😭😫😂) Also, when I’m left alive they kept telling me what to do and where the heck are the enemies when I don’t see them which doesn’t result to winning for the team HAHAHA 😭😂😂 *tries to control my armpit kink when seeing the GIF LMAO*
Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS ONESHOT! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB!
Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this oneshot is definitely from moi.
MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

"You were too far from me. I needed back-up. Where were you?"
"I'm sorry---I'm sorry, the new mouse was acting pretty strange for a moment there. Forgive me?"
"Hmmph."
Henry heard an intentional huff from his side, making him glance to see you pulling your own headphones off with a frown. You were clearly upset because it hasn't been two minutes yet and you were dead; not even having a chance to grab onto some weapons before a group of high-ranked team shot you dead as they tried to loot inside the tent where you hid.
They left you alone at the location you've pinned from the map, ignoring your protests of having one team mate with you because Henry accidentally chose the other way because of his mouse problem reasons.
"Nugget, don't be mad at me." your boyfriend lowly and sweetly apologized, his tone slightly begging when he saw you stand up from your game chair, announcing to grab onto some snacks while you be their watcher due to dying early.
You ignored his sweet talk, putting up an act that you were mad.
"---Give me a kiss before you go."
He frowned and silently mumbled in between loudly typing on his keyboard; his pretty blue eyes still focused on his monitor screen. Henry maneuvered his character in the safest position where he couldn't be found before ticking his mic off in the game. He raised a brow, pulling his headset down and around his neck whilst turning his game chair around. You were pulled by your wrist to stop you from leaving and with sassy brows, you answered in a piqued tone that made him look at you with a knowing look from your sudden surly attitude.
"No. I don't want to."
Being the one who wanted to lower his pride, your boyfriend suggestively held a finger up, telling him how many he wanted, wiggling his brows in the process and pursing his mouth. The image of his stache making you stifle a giggle before him as he pursed his lips more, suggesting for a smooch, "Just one kiss,"
"Why are you always touchy?"
"It's how I am, love." Henry was quick to answer, his timbre was soothing and deep. Such pitch that could get your heart humming with profound affection as you felt the heat go to your cheeks, his straightforwardness over asking if he could get a kiss always gets you bashful because you weren't one woman who was used to physical display of affection.
Surprising to say that your boyfriend loved it and would even do everything just to take anything from you. He was an intimate lover and you were most definitely reserved, shy and quiet. Seldom to be the first to reach out for a hug or a kiss.
Henry was being punished for it because he definitely preferred his skin on yours all the time specifically from the moment he knew he was deeply in love with you.
"Would you want me not to be sweet with you then?" the latter frowned, his pretty baby blues glazing with disappointment for a second before it changed into comprehension; grasping about why you were aloof in the world of intimacy and physical display, "---I know you're not used to physical affection at all---but, if you want me to stop because you think I'm being too over the top, needy or clingy then tell me,"
He dropped his hand away from your wrist like you've burnt his skin, realizing what he was asking from you. His fist falling on his clothed knee as he sympathetically stared straight into your eyes. His height and burly body build being much of an advantage over you as he sat eye to eye; standing before him in your full height already.
You've given him a tight smile, hesitantly shaking your head as you stepped a foot closer to Henry, your knee touching his whilst drowning in his oceans and muttering in the softest voice you could muster.
"But, I don't want you to stop at all."
"Then, why are you so timid with me?" Henry's claret colored lips lifted into an adorn beam, his teeth and those adorable fangs sneaking for a peep when he'd felt you grab onto his hand, interlocking and filling the spaces of his fingers with yours, "---I'll help you with that if you want me to," he playfully suggested. Though, you doubt he meant that he'll help you by having sex because he was a gentleman at heart; his eyes hopeful to see the bricks break with your own barricade in that department.
His smile grew wider when you've timidly tuck a strand of hair behind your ears with your free hand, your lover taking it as a sign to lean his face closer, tilting his head and puckering his lips; his focus on your awaiting lips. Henry was practically a strand close to be giving you a sweet peck before he leaned away to examine your blushing face, stopping in the midst of giving you a smooch.
"Is it because of the kingstache? I don't sound too pushy, do I?"
Intently looking into his sea of blues, you've felt you heart racing a marathon as your own boyfriend was unaware of his effect on you; he was always keeping your mind blank with just a simple look from him. Becoming one speechless and disfunctioning lady when he was being too sweet with you.
He was just a sweetheart, always understanding you in terms of the issues you had for yourself.
Taking all the willpower in one go, you've grabbed onto a little bit of your confidence and began to do the first move, leaning over Henry's face before pulling back to see him playfully wiggling his eyebrows in a teasing manner. He nodded enthusiastically, giving approval to do whatever you wanted and it wasn't a second to feel your palms on either side of his face; attacking his lips with a bruising kiss that made him grunt before your chapped lips.
His fingers clasped onto the side of your hip; automatically pushing you closer to him as he'd licked the tip of your vermillion, moisturizing your dry ones. Taking heed that you should probably grab onto some lipbalm when you leave the room. His wet tongue made you gasp; hungry for more as he licked the roof of your mouth.
The game room filling with sounds of passionate kisses, hypnotized by what effects it was giving you; how lightheaded it could make you feel. Henry was still giving your lip a gentle nudge with his, enamored from the sudden assault you've managed to lure him in. Out of the blue, you ceased kissing him. A definite amount of space between you both while deeply staring into his eyes.
"No. I love your kingstache and I likey-like-like this touchy-feely characteristic of yours. It makes me feel loved," with an anxious bite of your lip, you felt his rough, calloused thumb reach out to flick along the bottom of your vermillion; mindlessly telling you to stop with that unhealthy habit of yours whenever you were apprehensive or worried about something.
"---Sorry if I'm complicated to understand, Henry." you quietly murmured to your boyfriend. He was about to open his mouth, catching him off-guard when you've delicately pressed another kiss to his lip. His stache tickling your cupid's bow which made you tenderly giggle against his mouth.
He smiled along your wholesome kiss, puckering back to touch and graze his own with yours in a honeyed buss. The latter had both hands on your hip as he sweetly and deeply spoke.
"I love you, alright? come sit on my lap while I play the game. Then, we'll talk more about this shyness of yours after the round,"
Henry pulled you on his lap; protests slipping past your lips with a loud beating of your heart because it was one of your fantasies to sit on those thick thighs of his, but you never tell nor do you want to treat him as if he was a pleasure toy that you could use. You've respected him just as much as he respected you and your personality.
Your loving boyfriend heard your feigned complaints; never one to know that you were faking it, he'd tutted behind in the midst of turning you to face his monitor. His thick, muscly thighs offering comfort over your restless thoughts and stiff body.
You couldn't help but squint your eyes back at the screen as Henry placed his headset back on his ears, "But, you're already dead?"
Lately realizing he was, Henry made a high-squeak sound of protest that made you laugh out loud.
"For fuck's sake---I am! I am dead!" he ticked the mic on again while holding onto his cursor, his other arm safely surrounding your small body sitting on his lap; his hold tightening when you began wiggling against him, you wanted to chat with his other team mates who they both didn't personally knew at all.
"Hey, mate." his friend lackadaisically spoke on the other line; completely focused on the on-going game. The loud sound of the keyboard being pressed repeatedly in the background of his friend's mic.
You were first-blood because Henry was too far for backup; he'd received a huff and a raise of your brow at that before you decided to leave a while ago which never happened because he decided not to wait until you were cranky enough to ignore him until dinner.
Starting with calling out the other players using Henry's account, you started venting; being stealthy about it as he was busy chatting with a friend of his, also swamped over giving your nape kisses that has got you wiggling more against his hold due to being ticklish over there.
"No backup, brother?"
He suddenly chuckled on mic, watching you lean away from his soft kisses and earning him a quiet mumble of 'stop it' in which his friend heard on the other end of the line.
You continued typing and calling his team mates noobs in capital letters; creating an act as if you were a toxic player without Henry's permission.
Noobmaster69's mic was blinking on the left side of the screen, letting you know he was talking to Henry as you basically continued to smash rude words on the keyboard.
"I've given backup, but I decided to let em' kill you because it seems like you have something to work on your lap,"
His friend snickered behind mic, scoffing after when Henry's gruff voice grumbled, sounding like he was dissappointed by the latter's antics.
"You left me to die. You're a great friend, Martin."
Martin cursed a loud one after shooting one player, earning the kill as the other two players were out in a far distance, minding their own businesses or probably lagging as well as he continued to talk, "Your girlfriend didn't turn off her mic by the way---might want to turn it off after I win this round for everyone because you people are fuckin' around in ranked game," he was loudly tapping the controls on his keyboard as he chattered away; multi-tasking over shooting players and talking to Henry, "---also---Oh, Christ!---try not to moan in the mic while we're in game,"
His friend audibly roared when he'd luckily claimed a headshot, "I don't wanna nut on my keyboard, Hank!"
Henry has cursed him through the mic, chuckling as he watched Martin's gameplay through his monitor. Lately seeing that you had been busy with your hands, ferociously typing at two team mates who were helping through the game.
His baby blues peeked from behind, intently watching your attentive and focused face in amusement. The oceans of his eyes glistening with sheer entertainment to see you grinning on his lap, his peepers casting the monitor screen a look before his smile fell for a hot second to read that you were cursing his team mates out.
"Stop calling them noobs, Nugget." he'd heard one team mate aggressively curse back at him via microphone in a different language---he knew it was a cuss based on how angry his mates were. Henry didn't know if he wanted to laugh over the headset, but he chose to shut his mouth off when Martin died a little later---the two noobs you were calling; became the people who would raise a flag for not having your rank down.
"You're getting me reported. Stop it right now," Henry lowly chuckled, his strong arms tightening around your waist as his stache tickled you on your neck by giving another soft peck.
You giggled and tried wresting out of his hold with thoughts coming from the impulsive part of your brain, shooting him an endearment that got his body going rigid under yours.
"Alright, Daddy."
Your boyfriend blinked repeatedly, his arm loosening once he realized what you've called him; a matter of being clumsy has always made him laugh. However, this accident surely intrigued his curiosity. You never called him that, even wincing and giggling over his video where he was reading thirst tweets from Buzzfeed, hearing you tell him that it was weird for people to call him that when you certainly had your own kinks as well.
Karma shot you on the ass because it eventually became your own kink as well, but he never knew about it.
It was a very good act you've did when you were trying hard to be a shy angel in his eyes, gradually evolving into a small devil when you were around his presence.
"What...did you just say?"
"Henry, I said Henry---I--I called you by your name."
You've felt his hold go limp, taking this as an opportunity to flee and forget your accident when he decided that it was best to keep you within arms reach. So, seeing you stand up and turn around to leave---Henry reached out to grab onto your waist, his thick fingers slipping away to be tugging at the waistband of your shorts, slightly yanking them down to see the smooth cheek of your bum as you wear a black thong.
He successfully pulled your back, earning him a high pitched squeal when you tried wrenching his hold away; never one to show Henry the deepest and secretive part of you which got him more needy over the fact that he was drawing a blank over your body, not knowing what it holds out for him.
Your ass fell flat on his thighs, sitting sideways as Henry used his sinewy arm to guide you from falling, caging you in his juicy arms that you love to caress and ogle at from time to time.
The roughness of Henry's fingers cascaded on your knee, slowly trailing up your thighs as he intently bore his eyes on you, searching for answers as to how such a lewd feeling came with calling him a 'daddy'.
His eyes shifted from staring straight at you to admiring how innocent you try to pretend in his eyes, glancing down your lips as he subtly licked his own.
"That's not what I heard, Love."

General taglist for Henry Cavill: @agniavateira, @iloveyouyen, @rahdaleigh, @silverkitten547, @henrythickcavill, @kaatelyyynn
#Henry Cavill#henry cavill x you#henry cavill x y/n#henry cavill x reader#henrycavill#henry cavill x female reader#Henry cavill x small!fem!reader#henry cavill fluff#henry cavill fandom#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill fic#henry cavill fanfiction#muse: henry cavill#hc#cavillry#henry cavill masterlist#seb-owns-these-tatas
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The Depth of Ebony Chapter 8
Dean Winchester x Reader
Story Summary: A hell hound is needed to fulfill a spell. A hellhound is captured by TFW. But it turns to be more than they bargained for. Y/N becomes more than they bargained for.
Catch Up Here: Masterpost

Your knees buckled under the unaccustomed two-legged standing, and if it wasn’t for Dean you would have fallen hard to the floor. “What the…,” he muttered, instinctively catching you and holding you in his arms.
The white sheet was still in his hands, slightly covering your exposed body as you shivered in his grasp. He sat you down on the edge of the table, taking the sheet and wrapping it around your shoulders, tucking it around your waist.
“Y/N?” He finally asked, and you nodded, opening your mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“What the hell happened? You were dying, and then…,”
With no voice quite yet, you shrugged, ecstatic to be human once again. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. You’re human again, and that’s all that matters. Sam! Rowena! Cas! Come see this!”
His hand stayed on your shoulder as he turned to face the hallway just as Sam and Rowena came bursting through the doorway, Cas nowhere to be seen. “What?” They both asked. You could see the moment they noticed the human version of you. Sam’s eyes widened while Rowena held a hand to her heart. “Y/N?” She asked cautiously and you nodded. Suddenly Dean was pushed out of the way and she was pulling you into her arms. “You poor thing. All naked and afraid with this giant...buffoon. Here, let me take you.”
Before you could even glance at Dean, she was forcing you down the hallway on your shaky legs, talking so fast you couldn’t wrap your mind around it. “Here dearie, this is my room. Sit a spell and I’ll be right back.”
You sank down on the matress, keeping the sheet tight around you. Soon she returned, her arms full of cloth along with a porcelain cup. “Thought you might like a cup of tea. And some clothes.”
She placed a black t-shirt along with a grey pair of sweatpants onto the bed beside you. “Ach, I know. Not the greatest choice. But my dresses just wouldn’t do, and until we can get you clothes of your own, we can make do.”
She turned her back while I slipped the oversized clothes on. They were baggy, the sweatpants tied up as tight as they could, but they were warm, and soft against my skin.
“Better?” She asked, turning back around, handing me the warm mug. “Oh honey, I’m sorry you had to die to come back as human. If we had known at the beginning, well. Can you talk?”
You opened your mouth to speak, but it was only a whisper, barely intelligible, even to your ears. Rowena smiled wistfully. “It’s understandable. After all, you haven’t had to talk for many years. But don’t you worry, it will come back. And thanks to you we can now put Lucifer back once and for all. Before he tries to kill me. Again.”
You had heard of Lucifer, many times. But you had stayed clear of him, and anything to do with him as much as you could. But if they could lock him back up in the cage, that sounded great to you.
“Y/N?” Dean’s voice rang out seconds before he pushed through the door, Sam right behind him.
Rowena sighed. “Not even a knock?”
Ignoring her, Dean came to stand in front of you. “Are you okay? Wait, are those my clothes?”
“Of course Dean. My dresses are custom made for my body. And the poor girl needed clothes!”
“D...Dean,” you stuttered, the word barely a whisper, but stronger than before. Dean, with his keen hunter senses heard and sank down on the bed beside you. “I’m sorry she took off with you. Rowena can be...demanding.”
Rowena rolled her eyes. “Dean, she needed a woman’s touch. Not some lumberjacks.”
You ignored Rowena’s words, leaning against Dean’s shoulder, instinctively feeling comforted by him. You were drawn to Dean. As a Hell hound, and now as a human once again. He was your constant when everything was so new and strange.
“Well the wee lass has definitely chosen you,” Rowena sighed. “So I will just be on my way. I trust you two will contact me when it’s time to complete the spell?”
“Don’t venture too far away,” Sam warned, taking her duffel bag and carry it for her. She turned to glance at you one last time.
“Don’t you worry. While these men might look like towering lumberjacks, they mean well. You’re safest with them.” With those parting words she slipped out the door, leaving you alone with Dean once again.
“Why don’t we get you settled in bed for the night. We can see what tomorrow brings,” Dean suggested. “You can even sleep in here.”
You peered around the room. It was simple and stark, with it’s brick walls, old fashioned couch and furniture, and a freshly made bed. It was better than anything you had ever seen, the bed softer than anything you had ever slept on. “Here, stand up and we can get the sheets pulled down. The room is only two doors down from mine. Leave your door open and if you need anything you can just come get me.”
You stood up, your body getting used to two legs once again. Dean pulled down the comforter and top sheet, and you slid in, the silkiness strange against your skin. He gently tucked the blanket around you. For a moment he stared down at you before finally heading to the door. “I have no idea what’s going to happen, but I am glad you stumbled into our lives. Night Y/N.”
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Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278 @bi-danvers0 @cap-just-said-language @colette2537 @deansgirl215 @flamencodiva @hamiltrash1411 @its-not-a-tulpa @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @justanotherwinchester @just-another-winchester @karouwinchester @keikoraventeller @krys198478 @librarygeekery @magssteenkamp @misspygmypie @mlovesstories @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @mrspeacem1nusone @nothinbuttrouble2 @ria132love @ruprecht0420 @screechingartisancashbailiff @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @squirrelnotsam @team-free-will-you-idjiot @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @torn-and-frayed @tricksterdean @wonderfulworldofwinchester @woodworthti666 @beabutterfly987
Depth of Ebony Tags: @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @voltage-my2dlove @idksupernatural @deanfanatic @kalesrebellion @doctorlilo @brilovesdeanwinchester @parinarain
Forever Tags: @aditimukul @alexwinchester23 @algud @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @camelotandastronauts @caswinchester2000 @cpag7 @chelsea072498 @closetspngirl @deanwanddamons @docharleythegeekqueen @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @esoltis280 @foxyjwls007 @gh0stgurl @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek @heartislubbingdubbing @heyitscam99 @hobby27 @horsegirly99 @imsuperawkward @internationalmusicteacher @iwriteaboutdean @jayankles @jensen-gal @justsomedreaming @just-another-busyfangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @linki-locks11 @littleblue5mcdork @lowlyapprentice @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @mogaruke @monkeymcpoopoo @musiclovinchic93 @nanie5 @percussiongirl2017 @plaid-lover-bay25 @roonyxx @ronja-uebrick @roxyspearing @samanddeanmyheroes @sandlee44 @shamelesslydean @simonsbluee @sillesworldofwriting @sgarrett49 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman @superbadassnatural @thatcrazybookwormgeek @thewinchesterchronicles @voltage-my2dlove @vvinch3st3r @whimsicalrobots @winchester-writes @zombiewerewolfqueen
#depth of ebony#dean winchester x reader#supernatural x reader#supernatural reader insert#katy writes#spn fanfic#dean fanfic#dean x y/n#y/n#dean
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Hi! Hope you're doing well. I posted this Booker/Joe/Nicky prompt on the TOG kink meme originally. No one claimed it, so I thought I might try asking you, if that is okay. Here:
"Porn with feelings is one of my favorite things, so: Five Times Joe and Nicky invited Booker into their bed and the one time they told him to stay.
You do not need to be explicit with the smut if you do not want to, although that would be lovely and much appreciated.
Just give me Joe&Nicky and Booker catching feelings throughout centuries worth of hookups while thinking that the other party is only interested in friendship and sex.
Angst With A Happy Ending, please.
Bonus for Bottom!Booker, but it is not a must.
Double Bonus for Exasperated!Andy dropping hints that they are too oblivious to understand."
Thank you for reopening your Ask Box and for considering my prompt. Have a great weekend!
A/N: Hope you’re well too, friend and thank you for the trust in my abilities! 😁 Feel free to consider your prompt filled if you’d like? It’s not as porny or as angsty as I think you were looking for but I hope it still satisfies.
--
one.
“I’m telling you guys,” Andy hisses, fingers digging into the soft dirt under her palms. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“And I’m telling you, Boss. We’ll be fine,” Booker grins sunnily, peering over the ridge to spy the military convoy transporting black-market arms and munitions. At the sight of the gleaming trucks and the stern-faced men with their faces focused on the road, the mischief dims a little.
Joe slaps him in the arm with a warm laugh. “If you get shot in the ass, you’re bunking with me and Nicky tonight. Let Andy have the big bed all to herself.” The man waggles his brows, brown eyes winking in devilish delight. “Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get front row seats to how Nicky makes love to me.”
Seeing that there were only two tiny Queen sized beds in their latest digs, Booker’s eyes blink in alarm, turning to her as if to ask, you wouldn’t do that to me, would you? He’s been with the family long enough that that was one knowledge he already has a too intimate familiarity with and not one he is keen to revisit.
If his reasoning hides the way his eyes always seek them out in a crowded room, that’s for him to know and only him.
Her only answer is the unsheathing of her hunting knife and the pulling of her scarf over her nose and mouth. “Better watch your ass, kid.”
two.
Nicky’s hand in his is what pulls him out of his thoughts. He must have been staring at the sea for longer than he had thought because stars dance in his eyes and he has to squeeze them shut to block out the sudden spinning of the world around him.
Slipping away from Nicky’s touch, he sighs as he slowly feels himself come back to his stiff joints and sun-beaten face. He’s lost track of time again.
Booker feels Nicky take a seat on the sand next to him and instinctively looks around for Joe, before raising an inquiring eyebrow at him. “He has run out of his favourite colour again,” Nicky chuckles, kicking out his legs and burying his bare feet in the warm sand.
“Ah.”
“Ah,” Nicky echoes with a smile. Their sympathies are immediate and resting solely with the poor salesperson who has to deal with Joe’s charm as he convinces them that one brand cannot be a substitute for another. They sit together, watching the tides kissing the shores in companionable silence before Nicky turns onto his side. “Are you okay?”
Booker considers the question, still keeping his eyes on the way the sunlight dances on the waves. This beach is too warm for this time of the year and the air is the wrong tang of brine. Next to him, in the space where his wife should be with her wild laughter and her windswept hair, is nothing but empty, foot trodden sand. His heart sticks in his throat when he opens his mouth to speak and only the sound of unspeakable grief steals out past his lips.
When Nicky wraps his arms around him, he doesn’t try to pull away. When he asks if Booker wants to come with him, unmistakeably to bring him to their bed - the one where he and Joe sleep in and not the comfortable guest bed in the spare room - he merely sighs, sinking into the warmth and strength of Nicky’s arms around him, and allows himself to be cared for.
three.
The camaraderie he feels amongst this new family is one he never thought he could have. He appreciates every new memory he builds with them and every new layer of life he lays down even if he cannot help looking behind him and long for what is no longer his.
Friendship and brotherhood are easy to grasp. What confuses him, however, is the way Joe, Nicky, and Booker have somehow developed something more than that. He isn’t unaware of the pleasures that brothers in arms share on a battlefront. Any shred of comfort and warmth to be shared in those moments of relief in finding yourself escaping Death’s embrace is one that was somehow tolerated when he had been conscripted to march for a madman.
What Joe and Nicky have is more than that, and Booker knows it, is in awe of it, and can hardly stop admiring it.
What they have in the moments where Nicky’s warm breath tickles against his neck as Joe presses in between his trembling thighs is one he cannot divine.
The easy way they three have fallen into the rhythm of kisses and touches, of shared quiet moments, lulled to sleep with the smell of sex on their skins confuses him and calming heartbeats. How, when he builds his first safehouse, he puts out a room for Andy but leaves the little touches for them in his own. The way he feels no jealousy when they go off on their own and nothing but elation when they fold him into the fabric of their being. And yet.
Yet, when they are together, Booker feels like his heart could stop from the guilty happiness he has coursing through his veins. When he is in the space between wakefulness and sleep held in their arms and sharing their space, it is the calmest, the safest he has ever felt since the day he walked away from Marseille.
And Booker can’t stop but to wonder. What does it all mean?
four.
Joe stops mid-sentence and it doesn’t go unnoticed. The sounds of the other guests in the hotel percolate into their room and he has to take a moment to look at the bed where just an hour before, they’d languidly been tangled under the covers. They had arrived two days earlier just to take advantage of the privacy of the room and the luxury of a King-sized bed where Joe had pressed kisses into the quivering corner of Nicky’s lips as he tries not to laugh while Booker is playfully nipping at his jaw.
God, has it just been an hour since he had to wrangle them all into some semblance of order so that Booker can catch Andy before she gets here?
“What’s wrong?” Nicky asks, clear eyes catching in the light when they gaze at him. His beloved’s hands move methodically as they make the bed. The same sheets that still carried the scent that he is sure now permeate every shared space the three of them occupies on a regular basis.
A whirlpool of emotions snake around his chest and all he is able to do is to reach out to Nicky; to the anchor in the storms of this strange life they live, to his true North. It speaks to the bond they share that Nicky comes to his side, kissing their clasped hands, patiently waiting for him to speak.
Joe thinks he can burst with all the love he has in him for this man. Then the quiet flicker of his mind to another face, another smile that he holds just as dear and he swallows down the maelstrom of words bubbling up because he knows that whatever he says now matters.
Love is not a finite source. Joe has seen enough and been through just as much to know that that is true not just for himself, but for Nicky too. Smiling at Nicky, he feels his shoulders relax, leaning into him.
“My love, I think we need to talk.”
five.
“Come here.”
Booker hesitates but Nicky does not allow him any room to escape. Taking him by the wrist, he drags him to the quiet of an out of the way spare room in Copley’s home, eyes cataloguing every scrape, bloodstain, and healed over wounds.
Sitting him down on the bed, Nicky begins to methodically push his fingers through Booker’s hair, brushing out flecks of dried blood and grime, bits of glass and debris. Neither one speaks for a long moment and the familiar silence is heavy between them. From this room, Nicky can pick out the quiet murmur of Copley and Nile speaking while Andy is being tended to by Joe. This moment won’t last and Nicky has to speak his peace.
“He’s hurt. We both are.”
Booker flinches but Nicky doesn’t allow him to rise from the chair, pressing him back into position, feeling some small relish when Booker obeys. “Why, Booker? Why couldn’t you come to us if you were hurting? Why did you hide from us?”
Blue eyes look away from him and down to where his leg is shaking.
“Aren’t you going to defend yourself?” Nicky asks finally, softly and feels his heart break a little at all the possibilities that are slipping away with every moment they leave this unresolved. He sighs when Booker doesn’t speak, fingers moving to cup him by the jaw.
“We love you,” He says. “But maybe that’s not enough just yet.”
“Maybe,” Booker murmurs. Moving to stand only for Nicky to take him by the hand, pulling him in for a kiss.
“One day it will be.”
and the one.
Joe can smell the sea on Booker from the other side of the room.
Andy had levelled him a heavy look, telling him not to fuck this up with a soft smile on her lips as she leaves with Quynh in the first cab they could hail down. Nile had laughed when they asked if she was staying, telling them that she’ll be in the next city over if they needed her for anything.
Which now leaves Joe, Nicky, and Booker in a small motel room with the dying sunlight stealing through the gaps in the curtains. Nicky’s knee knocks against his and Joe has to sigh. Looking over to Booker, it is clear that the man is in the middle of some fight or flee reaction and he is tamping it down to fidget in the chair by the television set.
Picking up one of the scratchy towels that came with the room, he tosses it at Booker, jerking his head at the bathroom door.
“Get cleaned up. We can talk after.”
Booker gapes rather unattractively at them and his look of incredulity grows into a frown when Nicky sighs around a snort. Joe can’t help but mirror Nicky’s amusement and feels his lips curl into a smile. Exhaustion clings to the way Booker looks from the towel between his hands and to them at the bed.
Joe feels a swell of affection cut through the need to clear the air before they go any further into this. He won’t make the mistake of not talking this through again. Walking over to him, he nudges Booker to his feet, pulling him into the bathroom. Brushing his thumb in an arc under his tired eyes, Joe says, “Maybe we can leave the talk for after we sleep.”
#booker x joe x nicky#the old guard fic#teentitantruefriend#thank you for the prompt!#gab writes stuff
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First Day
Summary- 1.7k Detective Paul Diskant x Y/N. Paul passed his detective exams and first day on the job. Although he's been an officer since you've two been dating, your nerves still get the best of you. Soft and Some Smut. Written for @jtargaryen18 30 Days of Chris
Fresh youthful face stared back at Paul in the mirror as he buttoned up his shirt, his fingers shaking slightly until you peeked around his arm, and tugged to turn him away from the mirror, smiling up at him as you took over for him, sure to make sure each side lined up correctly. “Diskant, you know everything is going to be fine.” You say with pride, stepping back so he could stuff the tail ends of his shirt in his pants, to zip up the fly and button them shut.
“I feel like my heart's going to just beat out of my chest.” He said as a confession while you moved to your shared closet and opened the door, going through his ties. You pulled out a blue one with a pattern to it, moving back over to hold it against his chest while he flipped up his collar so he could put it on. You hum to him in agreement as you draped it over his shoulders.
You ducked back around so you could stand in front of him and fix the length, and start to twist and fold it with nimble fingers, having done this for him a few times now over the years you two have been together. His blue eyes slid appreciative over your concentrating face, the tip of your tongue caught between your teeth. “And it will go smooth. Remember you earned this Handsome. They don't just give out Detective status to anyone. You studied hard and passed all the exams.” Your fingers clasped around the knot of his tie and wriggled it up. “Besides, I thought I worked all the nerves out of you last night.” You bit your lip in a grin, and his pupils widened in excitement, recalling last night.
You pushing him onto the bed with a purr, your lips tasting sweet after a few wine coolers that you had enjoyed around the small fire pit you two sat around before deciding to retire.You straddle his lean hips and his hand fisted in your hair with an urgency, and you giggled against his lips. knees gripping against his waist, your tugging his shirt over his head, and he's doing the same to yours, tossing them aside. You fall forward to place kisses all along his chest, sure to give a bit of tiny love bites, and his hands are cupping your breasts through your bra, teasing your nipples through the fabric. “Get it off Paul.” You whine, and he reaches behind, and snaps it loose. “Sit back Y/N.” He said, pushing you back so he can draw it off your body, topless, you were fucking stunning, running your hands over your breasts, your own fingers pulling at your nipples. It was just to much and Paul, wrapped and arm around your waist to roll you two over, taking over with his mouth where your fingers just were.
Grasping the back of your neck, he pulled you in against him to take a deep claiming kiss, tongue trailing over teeth and claiming your tongue, you grasped his belt buckle giving a jerk at it and moan into the kiss, looking up at him slightly dazed. “You did, fucking went from my Kitten to a Wildcat last night.” His thumb slid across your bottom lip to clean off the residue, and winked. “You always know how to treat me good Kitten.”
Letting go of his belt buckle and patting his chest with a wink. “Wonder where I learned that Diskant. You can just figure that out for yourself Detective.” You teased and twisted away to leave the room, Paul right behind you with a playful swat to your ass, grabbing his wallet and badge off the dresser as he left the room, to finish getting ready for the day. Now he was bubbling with a good mood, you easily had that effect on him. And when you gave him a kiss goodbye, tilting to your tip toes telling him how fucking turned on you were by him with that badge on his hip, he walked out of the house a confident man.
You watched from the door frame, wiggling your fingers as you watched him straighten his tie and slip into his car. You couldn't help but worry your lip, turning away when he was gone and going to get yourself ready, pouring your coffee, you carried the mug up the stairs and into your bedroom to actually get dressed for work. 9 to 5 at the bank. You and Paul didn't have a bad life. The little house with the bit of back yard just outside the city. Both of you had good jobs, you just couldn't help but worry about his. Maybe now it would be better, he wouldn't be on patrol anymore, but working actual cases of crimes that already happened. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you couldn't help but grin at some of the darker marks he left scattered across your breasts, his love bites, just as you managed to leave some on his.
He lavished his tongue around your erected nipples, your hands shoving through the short crisp hairs on his head you had just cleaned up for him earlier to dig into the bunches muscles of his shoulders, arching yourself into his mouth. “Impatient Kitten?” He growled out and you nodded while rolling your body against his, reaching down to tug at his jeans. “When am I not impatient Paul?” He laughed as he continued down your body, your stomach fluttering under his teeth while he tugged your pants open and pulled back further to yank them off. Quick to get off his own, he fell over you, settling in between spread thighs and mid kiss, he plunged fingers in you, pumping you open and having you clenching around him, gasping against his lips. “All wet and fucking hot Kitten, your right, you are ready.” With a easy glide, he stretched you around him, leaving you pushing your head back with a hissing and he took advantage, sucking on your neck.
A tug over your blouse covered your body, and you pinned your hair up at the nape of your neck, placing on a gold chain Paul had given you a while ago, as well as a bracelet. It was easy to put on this look, hiding some of your worries, and as you left that day, locking your door on the way out, and started your day. At your lunch time, you had messaged him, telling him you hoped his first day was good, and walking the mall your bank was located in with your co-worker friend Cat, you two discussed a bit of your worries. It was good to be able to talk to a friend.
“Well you said so yourself, that Paul wasn't going to be chasing down crimes in progress.”
You picked at your soft pretzel and shrugged. “No, but it's still a dangerous job, and it's not like Boston is exactly the safest city of cities.” You wrinkle your nose and pause at a jewelers window, studying the display.
Cat paused to, looking at the pendants, when she pointed one out. “Why don't you get him a St.Micheals Pendant? His is supposed to protect the police officers from harm.” And you ditched your soft pretzel to enter the shop and look. Soon you were walking out with a black box being tucked into your purse. Cat looped her arm through yours and already your mood was a bit better as you two entered the bank, when five o clock rolled around, you were quick to get home, wanting to be home to welcome Paul home on his first day as Detective. You were just getting dinner in the oven when you heard the front door open and Paul call out your name. “In here Babe" you call back and quickly dry your hands off.
When he came in, he found you drying your hands, looking him up and down now in a more relaxed look, tie loosened, sleeves half rolled up his arms, suit jacket he was quick to drape over his chair. “Smells good Kitten, what you got cookin'?” He teased as he went to you, wrapping arms around your waist. You smirked up at him, and loped your arms around his neck. “Pizza, with that crust you like. But it JUST went in the oven, so what are you smelling?”
“Must be you Kitten.” He dropped his head and kissed your neck with a bit of tenderness that wasn't there last night, traveling to your lips. “And you taste good to.” You laugh as your swaying a bit around the kitchen, a slow dance without any music, just a natural body movement for you two in this moment. “Arnt you a charmer Diskant. I got something for you today to congratulate you on your new job.” You grinned and reached into your pocket.
He backs the two of you up so he can sit down in the kitchen chair, kissing your shoulder. “You didn't have to give me anything, you’ve done more then enough sticking with me all these years.”
“I didn't have to, but I wanted to.” You pick up his hand resting on your thigh, and put the box in it. “Your girlfriend is allowed to give you gifts whenever she wants.” Paul knew better then to argue with her about it, and he pried open the lid to see the silver St Micheal’s charm. Well aware of the significance, he set the box aside and drew you into him and handed him the necklace, which you slipped over his head and then tucked into his shirt so it wouldn't get caught on something. “Perfect” you say as your cuddling into his chest and rested your forehead against his, his blue eyes studying yours, and placing a gentle loving kiss on your lips. “Its perfect Kitten, Thank you for this.”
You smiled back and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “Your welcome, I love you Detective.” You grinned getting to use his new title. “By the way, did you ever solve that case I gave you this morning?”
He furrowed his brow and danced his fingers up your back. “Why no, in fact I have to question the witness, how much time do we have?”
You check the timer on the stove and bite your lip looking back at him. “30 minutes Detective.”
“Oh, plenty of time.” Scooping you up bridal style, he carried you off to the couch, and that night you two ate slightly burnt pizza.
Tags- @jtargaryen18 @what-is-your-plan-today @stardancerluv @what-just-happened-bro @princess-evans-addict @patzammit @onetwo3000
#paul diskant#paul diskant au#detective paul diskant#street kings#street kings au#chris evans#chris evans fanfic#paul diskant x you#paul diskant x y/n#paul diskant x reader#amber writes#sweater writes#30daysofchris2020
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Midnight Musing
John Wick x reader (A/n- Another one of those things that i wrote but saved for when I had nothing else.)
Warnings- Some angst, but mostly fluff.
“A road need not be paved in gold to find treasures at its end.” -Alan Brennert
Y/n felt small in John's arms and he could feel the slow rise and fall of her chest, matching the soft sound of her even breathing. The flimsy silk of her nightgown, smooth and soft against his bare stomach and chest, felt almost as fragile as she did, and he could feel the warmth of her breath fanning his neck.
With the exception of a pale yellow glow washing the room through pulled curtains, their bedroom was dark as John sunk deeper into his thoughts. The stroke of midnight had long passed and Y/n had been asleep for no more than a couple hours. She had succumbed to slumber quicker than she usually did when they talked over the phone and John had reckoned that it could have been because he'd done quite a good job at wearing her out after she'd come home from work. Though, Y/n would always argue that she slept better when he shared the bed with her.
It had been nearly a month since they'd last done that; shared a bed. John had been gone on a job in Europe. He had estimated two weeks, but things had gone awry and he’d been forced to stay back until he could get it done. When it was finally over, John had taken the first flight back, intent on surprising his love. And surprise her he did. Y/n was pleasantly stunned, and extremely excited when she’d come home earlier that evening, only to find him in the backyard playing with Dog; haphazardly dropping her bags on the kitchen counter and running out through the open screen door only to leap into his ready arms.
"I missed you," is what she had mumbled, her face buried in the crook of his neck, holding onto him as if her life depended on it.
"I've missed you too princess," John had returned, only pulling away so he could lay a proper kiss on her lips. It had felt like ages since he'd had her lips on his, tasted the undertones of her favorite coffee creamer mixing with something uniquely Y/n, something that always felt so surreal and magical, that John could hardly believe that she was there.
He felt like that a lot. That was how he had been feeling that night too, laying in the dark, their roles reversed as he clung to her for fear life. It wasn't really that John had a hard time believing in Y/n's existence, not really, for a man like him could never be afforded such a singular though. No, it was that he couldn't, for the very life of him, fathom why, out of every man in the world, she'd picked him. What could she have seen in him to make her ignore the monster that resided within and love the lonely, at times broken, man beneath?
John’s eyes glazed over as his troubling thoughts consumed him. Y/n was the nicest person he knew; a kind heart and gentle touch that could still the quickest hearts and ease the worst pains, at least, to him. They had met on an off chance, it had been one of those days where John was reminded that he wasn’t really like everyone else, his life wasn’t normal and that he was a brutal killer walking among men. He had just left the Continental after returning from a job the night before and must have looked like the perfect contradiction; dressed impeccably in his usual suit though with cuts and bruises littering his face. The limp in his step had significantly slowed him and the soreness in his muscles was evident every time he shifted.
Y/n had been walking towards his direction, latte in hand, eyes glued to her phone, trying to solve some work problem or the other; she was a nurse practitioner, but John hadn’t known that yet. He had been so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t really see her until they clumsily crashed into each other, her scalding hot coffee drenching his shirt. Y/n had apologized profusely, and John had done his best to reassure her that it was fine. She had even offered to pay for his dry cleaning, but he had politely declined.
That might have been the end of their interaction, until she saw the fresh cuts on his face, worry for a stranger tugging at her pretty features, eventually insisting that he come back to her place so she could make sure he was okay. John conveniently neglected to tell her that the hotel’s doctor had already done that and Y/n couldn’t didn’t even seem bothered that she was inviting a strange man into her apartment.
Three years after that day; Y/n had long moved out from her little apartment in the city and into John’s house, and by then John hardly ever needed the Continental's doctor, not when he had a trained professional waiting for him at home. Home. That was what Y/n had turned his house into; a home that they shared. Formerly plain walls were now lined with pictures they’d taken together on birthdays, anniversaries and vacations. Dresses, navy blue scrubs and other articles of women’s clothing had joined his things in the closet while Y/n had made it her mission to liven their backyard with happy little flowers of varying colors.
John was more than grateful, in fact, he’d often think that there wasn’t a word that was enough to encapsulate just how lucky he was to have Y/n. Even if he couldn’t fathom her reason for staying. How could someone so inherently good, optimistic and pure, love a man as jaded as him? Even after he had come clean about his life, expecting the bloodshed and shear horror of it all to scare her off, Y/n had stayed. Even after she’d seen him at his worst, broken down and frustrated when a target just slipped out of his grasp, she had assured him that it would be okay. Even when he showed up at her apartment, after just six months of dating, clutching his side, bleeding onto her floor, barely able to hold himself up, she had nursed him back to health.
John simply couldn’t get it.
He took lives, and Y/n saved them.
She was like an angel among them and he was the corruption that she let into her life.
John was so far gone that he hadn’t even realized that Y/n had stirred awake, until she called out to him softly, “John?” she whispered, she always whispered in the dark, even when it was just the two of them; she’d once told him that it was because the dark was so quite that speaking loudly might disturb it, “What are you doing up?”
“I, umm...” he trailed off, trying to look at her in the low light. By the grace of the moonlight, he could see that her hair was fanned out on the pillow, lone strands falling over her face, “I was just thinking.”
Y/n craned her head awkwardly, glancing at the alarm clock behind him, “At two am? I think there might be more convenient times for thinking Jonathan,” she teased, “Are you having trouble sleeping?” Her mood sobered when he didn’t quite laugh at her quip.
“I guess,” he shrugged, “It’s just.....” John hesitated, though, eventually asking her anyway, “Do you ever think about why you love me?”
“I...” Y/n hesitated, pushing herself up on her elbow, grazing the fingers of her free hand on John’s cheek. She couldn’t guess what had brought that on, or what he meant for that matter, but she could tell that something was bothering him. John was a man of very few words, even less so when they involved talking about his feelings, but she never needed vocalization to know that he was letting his thoughts get the better of him. It usually came out in the way he held her or looked at her, as if he was hoping she could make it better, soothe his mind the way she’d often heal his body. “What are you talking about?” Y/n furrowed her brows, brushing some of his hair behind his ear, letting her thumb slide over the apple of his cheek.
John dragged his lip through his teeth, seemingly thinking on it for a moment, “I mean, why are you with me? When you could be with someone who’s good, like you, someone who’s not a murderer and who’s job doesn’t put you in danger. How can you love me when I’m everything wrong in your life?”
Y/n stammered, her eyes going wide, her hand finally relaxing, cupping John’s cheek. Emotion tugged at her heart and Y/n worried on her lower lip. She hated that he’d think like that sometimes, like he didn’t deserve her, especially when Y/n knew that John deserved every bit of good in his life. He wasn’t just the Baba Yaga, the Boggyman or the man to fear, in fact, to Y/n, he wasn’t that at all. To her, he was John, the man who’s arms felt like the safest place on earth, the person who worried about her when he was away, risking his life, the love of her life and the man of her dreams. She hated the mere thought of John feeling less as if he was any than that.
Scooting closer, Y/n leaned forward to greet John’s lips with hers, “When are you gonna stop thinking like that, huh?” Even if only by pale light, John could see Y/n’s eyes questioning him, the glassiness of worry sparkling beneath.
Letting his large, work-worn hand skim Y/n’s side, settling in the dip of her waist, John, trying to dismiss her concern, teased; “When I pinch myself and realize that this was all a dream,” probably the best one he’d ever have.
Scoffing, Y/n pinched him on the bicep for purpose, smiling softly when John winced dramatically, “There, I pinched you for both of us; we’re both awake and you need to stop thinking about yourself like that,” Y/n sighed, her frown deepening, the ‘v’ between her brows prominent, “You’re not everything wrong in my life,” she quoted loosely, ���In fact, John, you’re the best part of it. My favorite person, the man I love more than anything or anyone else in the world and the only man that I can imagine spending my life with. Why would I ever want to question that?”
“Because I’m-”
“You’re not a monster,” Y/n cut him off, tangling the tips of her fingers in his dark hair as she cupped his cheek, already remedying the bellying sea of worry in his mind. Her touch was cool and comforting, reminding John of the wonder that she was. “You’re a good man, who got dealt a shitty hand. But that doesn’t make you a bad person, and if it does,” she teared up, the words caught in her throat. Sniffling, Y/n continued, “Then I’d still take you over the best of men, because to me, there’s no one better. I wouldn’t trade a second of our time together, in fact, I’d give up anything to have more. John,” she breathed his name, smiling quietly, “You’re not what everyone says you are, what you think you are. You’re so much more than that, and I know sometimes you can’t see in yourself what I see in you, but I’m reminded of it everyday. I love you John. I love you because you’re strong and brave, because you’re determined and have a huge heart, and you’re over-protective sometimes, but it’s cute,” she giggled softly. “My point is you don’t need to be different for me to love you, and you’re not what’s wrong with my life. But you are the only thing that seems right sometimes, and I’m so grateful to have you.”
Blinking back tears that he hadn’t realized were there, John smiled, just enough for Y/n to notice. What did he ever do to deserve her and everything she gave him? John didn’t think he’d ever know. What he did know though, was that he was grateful too. So, so grateful to have an angel in disguise, loving him despite his flaws, to have someone that made letting go seem impossible. “Thank you, I love you,” he whispered, kissing Y/n again, his lips locking with hers in the sweet expression of their love.
“I love you too,” Y/n said against John’s lips, her body flush against his, his soft strands laced with her delicate fingers, his muscled arms keeping her close.
When they broke for air, Y/n’s forehead was pressed to John’s and they laid nose to nose, “Don’t ever leave me,” he pleaded a distinct urgency in his tone as John curled his stocky fingers in her silky tresses.
“Wouldn’t even dream of it,” Y/n reassured him, quick pecks supporting her words.
“Good,” John hummed. He knew that no matter what he though of himself, Y/n would always love him, but suddenly, he needed ultimate assurance. He wanted her to always be with him, always love him. He wanted to always love her too and make sure that she knew it. So, right there, without any prior plans and at two am when most of the rest of the street was sound asleep, blissfully unhampered by his turmoil and haplessly unaffected by her soothing grace, John blurted those two sealing words, not really as a question, more like a pleading statement, “Marry me.”
Without any hesitation, Y/n knew her answer, even if John’s request came seemingly out of no where. It was the same answer she’d have in any other instance. Giggling, Y/n hooked her leg around John’s waist, kissing him passionately, which arguably was an answer in itself. “I’d love to marry you,” she eventually murmured sweetly against his lips, when they had rolled over so Y/n was laying on top of him.
John held onto her tight, feeling her excited heartbeat against his own, her lips working perfectly in tandem with his. It was set, in words that were as sure as stone; Y/n would be his, forever, and he’d be hers.
As they kissed, the grey in his mind seemed to melt away, becoming a problem for another night. John would never know what he’d done to deserve Y/n, and maybe, he might never see the man that she saw, but he did know that as long as she was in his life, everything else was minute. His job was just a job. His pain was just pain. And it had all led him to Y/n, so really, it was worth it.
******
Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi
#keanu reeves#john wick#john wick x reader#john wick x you#keanu reeves x you#keanu reeves x reader#john wick fanfic#keanu reeves fanfiic#ff#fanfic#fanfiction#keanu reeves fanfiction#john wick fanfiction#midnight musings#fluff
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