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aspenmissing · 2 days ago

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I’m projecting badly but I’m alone and I hurt… what about Viktor, Jayce, and Jinx with an s/o that suffers from two forms (genetic lotto, lost) of early onset arthritis but due to high pain tolerance, easily hidden braces and usually well managed pain medication… simply never told them about their condition until one day they show up using the cane they only need on exceptionally bad pain days, much needed simply to stay upright.

ᴜɴꜱᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴛʀᴜɢɢʟᴇꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊɪɴx | ʙᴏɴᴜꜱ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ || 3943 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ||

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴍᴇᴅɪᴄᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴꜱ (ᴀʀᴛʜʀɪᴛɪꜱ), ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ (ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ʙᴜʀᴅᴇɴ).

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ, ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ! ɪꜰ ɪᴛ ʙʀɪɴɢꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜱᴏʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠᴇʀ! ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ꜰᴏʀɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ɪɴᴄᴏʀʀᴇᴄᴛ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇᴀʙʟᴇ ɪɴ ᴀʀᴛʜʀɪᴛɪꜱ - ʙɪᴛ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ᴍʏ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜰᴇᴇʟꜱ. ɪ ᴡɪꜱʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ᴅᴀʏ/ɴɪɢʜᴛ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊɪɴx

JAYCE

Y/N’s arthritis wasn’t something she spoke about often. Diagnosed young, she’d learned to adapt over the years—hidden braces, carefully managed medication, and a remarkable tolerance for pain. It wasn’t a matter of shame but rather a deep-seated instinct to handle it herself. She didn’t want the condition to define her or become a reason for others to treat her differently. On most days, it wasn’t obvious. Her movements were smooth, her posture upright, and her smile steady.

Her colleagues and friends had no idea she lived with the condition, and she preferred it that way.

But some days were different. Some days, the pain flared so intensely it felt as though her body were betraying her, her joints a battlefield she couldn’t escape. On those rare occasions, she relied on a cane—an unspoken admission that her strength alone wasn’t enough.

Today was one of those days.

The morning had been particularly cruel. Her knees and wrists throbbed even before she attempted to get out of bed. Every joint seemed to protest as she moved, her fingers stiff and uncooperative as she fumbled with the simple act of getting dressed. Each step felt like walking through wet cement, every movement a negotiation with pain. She’d sat on the edge of her bed for a long moment, staring at the cane propped against her wardrobe. She hated using it. Hated what it represented.

But today, there was no getting around it.

Work beckoned, as it always did. Y/N wasn’t one to let discomfort stop her. She had too much to do, too many projects and experiments that needed her attention. So, with a resigned sigh, she grabbed the cane and made her way to the lab, each tap against the tiled floor echoing louder in her ears than it probably was.

She told herself no one would notice.

That hope was dashed the moment Jayce turned around.

His attention snapped to her like a magnet, his usual easygoing smile faltering as his eyes zeroed in on the cane. His expression shifted from surprise to concern in an instant, his brow furrowing as he took a step closer.

“Y/N?” he asked, his voice laced with worry. “What’s going on? Are you hurt?”

Y/N winced internally. Of course, he’d notice. There was no hiding the cane, no brushing this off. She offered a smile, though it was strained. “I’m fine, Jayce,” she said lightly, her voice betraying none of the pain that lanced through her with every step. “Just... having a bit of a bad day.”

Jayce’s work was forgotten as he moved towards her, his strides purposeful yet hesitant, as though he wasn’t sure how close he should get. He stopped a few steps away, his hands hovering mid-air like he wanted to help but didn’t want to overstep.

“A bad day?” he repeated, his gaze flickering between her face and the cane. “Y/N, you’re using a cane. Why didn’t you tell me you needed one?”

She sighed, leaning the cane against the nearest table as she lowered herself into a chair. The relief of sitting down was immediate, though she didn’t let it show. “Because I don’t, usually. Only on really bad days.”

Jayce crouched in front of her, his warm brown eyes filled with worry. “What do you mean, ‘really bad days’? What’s going on?”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers tightening around the cane’s handle. She’d spent years keeping this part of her life private, even from Jayce. It wasn’t about trust—it was about independence, about not wanting to burden anyone. But there was no avoiding it now.

“I have arthritis,” she admitted quietly, her voice almost drowned out by the hum of the lab’s machinery. “Two kinds, actually. Early onset. It’s genetic.”

Jayce’s expression softened, concern deepening as understanding began to dawn. “Arthritis? Since when?”

“Since I was a kid,” she said, offering a small, wry smile. “It’s manageable most of the time. Painkillers, braces, pacing myself—it usually works. But sometimes... the pain flares up. Like today.”

He shook his head slowly, disbelief mingling with worry. “Y/N, why didn’t you tell me? I’m your boyfriend—I would’ve helped.”

She looked away, her gaze fixed on the floor. “Because I didn’t want to worry you,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “I’ve lived with this for so long that it’s just... part of life. I can handle it.”

Jayce reached out, his hand enveloping hers with a warmth that made her chest tighten. “But you don’t have to handle it alone,” he said firmly, his voice low and steady. “You know that, right? You can lean on me, Y/N. Literally, if you need to.” He cracked a small, lopsided smile, an attempt to lighten the mood.

Her lips trembled, and she blinked against the tears that suddenly blurred her vision. “Jayce, I didn’t want to be a burden. You’ve got so much on your plate already.”

“You’re not a burden,” he said with quiet conviction, squeezing her hand gently. “You never could be. I hate the thought of you hiding this, suffering in silence. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

A tear slipped free, and she hastily wiped it away, a small, shaky laugh escaping her. “Alright,” she said after a moment, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll try to let you in more.”

Jayce smiled warmly, his thumb brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “That’s all I ask.”

From that day forward, Y/N began to share more of her struggles. Jayce threw himself into learning everything he could about arthritis, scouring research papers and talking to specialists. He designed tools in the lab to help ease her pain on difficult days, his care and attention shining through in every detail.

And on those rare days when Y/N needed her cane, Jayce stood proudly by her side, his love for her unwavering. She wasn’t alone anymore, and that made all the difference.

VIKTOR

It had been a quiet morning in the lab, sunlight streaming through the high windows and casting long shadows over the many contraptions that filled the room. Viktor sat at his workbench, his fingers deftly tinkering with a hextech core, while Jayce hovered nearby, deep in thought, scribbling notes on a blueprint spread across the table. The usual hum of creativity filled the air, the faint whir of Viktor’s mechanical leg accompanying the occasional clink of metal tools against delicate machinery. Everything seemed normal—calm, productive, routine.

But something was off.

The sound of your steps broke through the stillness, heavier than usual, each one deliberate and measured. There was an unfamiliar tap accompanying them, a rhythm out of sync with the soft padding of your shoes. Viktor looked up instinctively, and his heart immediately sank. You stood in the doorway, gripping a cane, your knuckles white against the polished wood. The shadows beneath your eyes were darker than usual, your lips pressed tightly together as if to suppress a grimace. Even the faint smile you managed looked strained, barely holding against the weight of whatever pain you were carrying.

“Miláčku,” Viktor said softly, setting down his tools. His golden eyes locked onto you, concern etched into every line of his face. “What is this? Why are you using that?” (Darling)

You froze for a moment, your mind racing for an explanation. You hadn’t wanted this to happen, hadn’t wanted him to see you like this. For years, you’d carefully concealed the realities of your condition—braces hidden under long sleeves and trousers, medication tucked discreetly into your bag, a well-practised mask of strength that rarely faltered. But today… today, the pain was unrelenting, a relentless storm that surged through your joints with every movement. The cane was the only thing keeping you upright, but it was also the betrayal of a secret you’d worked so hard to keep.

“It’s nothing,” you said quickly, forcing a lightness you didn’t feel. “Just a bad day. You know how it is.”

Viktor’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. He was no stranger to hiding pain—he recognised the way you shifted your weight carefully from one leg to the other, the way your shoulders tensed as if bracing against an invisible force. Slowly, he rose from his stool, leaning on his own cane as he made his way toward you.

“You are lying,” he said gently but firmly, his voice laced with quiet determination. “Please, tell me the truth.”

You hesitated, your gaze dropping to the floor. His voice wasn’t accusatory—it was filled with worry, the kind that made your chest ache even more than the pain in your knees and wrists. With a deep breath, you decided there was no point in hiding it anymore.

“I have arthritis,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Two types, actually. It’s genetic and… well, I got unlucky.” You tried to laugh, but it came out hollow. “Most days, it’s manageable. I can push through. But today…” Your grip on the cane tightened. “Today isn’t one of those days.”

Viktor stopped in front of you, his expression shifting into something unreadable. He reached out hesitantly, his hand hovering over yours on the cane before finally settling lightly atop it. The warmth of his touch grounded you, even as his silence stretched on for a moment too long.

“And you never told me?” he asked finally, his voice trembling just slightly, a mix of hurt and concern. “Why, Y/N? Why would you keep this from me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” you said quickly, your words tumbling out in a rush. “You already have enough to deal with, Vik. Your work, your health, everything with Piltover. I didn’t want to add to that.”

Viktor let out a sharp exhale, his brows knitting together. “Lásko...” He gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as he tilted your face up to meet his gaze. “You are not a burden. You could never be a burden. If you are in pain, I want to know. I want to help.” (Love)

Tears pricked your eyes, blurring the golden glow of his irises. His sincerity was overwhelming, his words breaking through the walls you’d built around yourself. You let out a shaky laugh, trying to lighten the moment. “You’re going to regret saying that when I start complaining about how much my joints hate me.”

A small smile tugged at Viktor’s lips, though his eyes remained serious. “Then we can complain together,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your waist to support you. “Come, sit. You should not be standing like this.”

You let him guide you to a nearby chair, easing down with a grateful sigh as the pressure on your knees lifted. Viktor pulled up a stool beside you, his hand never leaving yours.

“From now on,” he said softly, his gaze fixed on yours, “no more hiding. We face this together, yes?”

You nodded, your heart swelling at the unwavering resolve in his voice. “Together,” you agreed.

Viktor pressed a kiss to your knuckles, his lips lingering as if sealing his promise. When he pulled back, there was a new determination in his expression, the kind that always lit up his face when he was deep in thought.

“I will look into this,” he said firmly, his mind already racing with possibilities. “There may be something hextech can do to ease your pain, or at least make your bad days less… bad. I promise you, Y/N, we will find a way to make things better.”

For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to lean on him—not just physically, but emotionally. And in his arms, you realised that you didn’t have to carry this burden alone anymore.

JINX

Jinx hadn’t seen Y/N all morning, which was unusual. Normally, you’d have already poked your head into her room by now, making some sarcastic quip about her projects, asking if she ever slept, or offering her something to eat. It was your routine—your way of grounding her when her thoughts spiralled out of control. But today? Silence.

She frowned, throwing aside the pile of blueprints she’d been half-heartedly sorting. The hideout felt eerily quiet, and the faint hum of the city outside seemed to grow louder in the stillness.

“Y/N?” she called out, stepping into the main room. Her voice echoed, and the emptiness only deepened her unease.

Jinx’s sharp eyes darted around, scanning every corner. No sign of you. The gnawing feeling of dread, the one she thought she’d buried long ago, crept up her spine. She hated this—hated the hollow ache that came with wondering if someone she cared about had disappeared, leaving her behind again.

She clenched her fists, shaking her head as if to banish the thought. “Get it together,” she muttered to herself, before heading towards the workshop.

As she neared the doorway, the sound of faint, uneven footsteps on the stairs made her freeze mid-step. Her heart leapt to her throat.

“Y/N?” she called again, her voice hesitant this time.

When you finally appeared, gripping the railing tightly with one hand and clutching a cane in the other, Jinx’s breath caught. Her bright blue eyes widened as she took in the sight of you.

Your face was pale, a sheen of sweat on your forehead. The usual warmth in your expression was dimmed, replaced by an exhaustion you couldn’t quite hide. For once, you looked... vulnerable.

“Jinx,” you greeted softly, your voice as steady as you could manage. You offered her a smile, the same comforting one you always gave her, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“What the hell, Y/N?” Jinx demanded, sprinting over to you. Her sharp gaze darted between your face and the cane. “What’s this? You hurt? Did someone do this to you?”

You huffed a weak laugh, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Calm down, love. No one did this to me. It’s just... well, it’s me.”

Jinx’s frown deepened, her confusion giving way to worry. “What do you mean, ‘it’s just you’? You’re not making any sense.”

You sighed, gesturing for her to help you over to the nearby sofa. She was at your side in an instant, her hands hovering nervously as though unsure where to touch. She ended up slipping an arm around your waist, supporting you as you eased down onto the worn cushions.

The relief was immediate, though the ache in your joints persisted. You let out a breath, wincing slightly as you adjusted your position. Jinx stood in front of you, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her foot tapping anxiously against the floor.

“Alright,” she said, her voice sharper than usual, “start talking.”

““I’ve got arthritis.” you began, your tone calm but serious. “Early-onset. Two kinds, actually. Lucky me, eh?”

Her jaw dropped, her expression twisting into one of disbelief. “What? Since when?”

“Since always, really,” you replied with a shrug. “It’s genetic. But I manage it, mostly. Pain meds, braces... you’ve just never noticed because I’m good at hiding it. Today’s just... a bad day.”

Jinx’s brows knitted together, and she clenched her fists at her sides. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, her voice cracking slightly. “You always tell me to come to you when something’s wrong. Why didn’t you do the same?”

You reached out and placed a hand on her arm. “Because I didn’t want you to worry, Jinx. You’ve got enough on your plate without adding me to it.”

“That’s stupid,” she shot back, her tone laced with frustration. “You’re the one person who’s always been there for me. You can’t just... hide this from me! What if you get worse? What if you—”

Her words faltered, her voice breaking as her throat tightened. She looked away, blinking rapidly, but not before you saw the tears welling in her eyes.

“Jinx,” you said softly, your voice full of warmth as you reached up to cup her cheek. She flinched slightly but didn’t pull away. Instead, you gently turned her face back towards you. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ve been dealing with this for years, and I’ll keep dealing with it. But you’re right. I should’ve told you. I’m sorry.”

Her lip wobbled, and she let out a shaky breath, her blue eyes searching yours. “You scared me,” she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you said, pulling her into a hug. She hesitated for a moment before wrapping her arms around you, clinging tightly. Her grip was firm but careful, as though afraid she might hurt you.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the faint hum of machinery in the background and the distant murmur of the city outside.

When Jinx finally pulled back, her expression had shifted. Her usual manic energy was creeping back, though her concern still lingered. “Alright, here’s the deal,” she said, her voice more determined now. “From now on, no more secrets, yeah? If you’re in pain or need help, you tell me. Got it?”

You smiled, brushing a tear from her cheek. “Got it.”

“Good,” she said, standing up and cracking her knuckles. “Now, you sit there and rest while I go blow something up. That’ll make us both feel better.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Go on, then. Just don’t get yourself killed.”

“No promises!” she called over her shoulder, her grin wide and mischievous. But as she bounded towards the door, she paused, glancing back at you. Her gaze lingered, softer than usual, before she finally disappeared from sight.

You leaned back against the cushions, letting out a slow breath. The pain was still there, a constant ache in your joints, but for the first time in a long while, the weight on your heart felt a little lighter. You didn’t have to carry this burden alone anymore.

BONUS: JAYVIK

The soft glow of Piltover’s lanterns spilled through the workshop windows as the rhythmic clinking of tools filled the air. Jayce was hunched over a blueprint, his brow furrowed in concentration, his hand occasionally scribbling notes in the margins. Viktor, seated nearby, tinkered with a new Hextech prototype, his movements precise despite the faint tremor in his hands. Both men were so engrossed in their work that neither noticed you entering the room—until the unmistakable sound of a cane tapping against the floor cut through the silence.

Jayce’s head shot up immediately, his blue eyes wide with concern. Viktor’s hand stilled, his grip tightening on the small screwdriver in his fingers as he turned towards you. The intensity of their gazes was almost enough to make you want to turn around and leave, but the pain radiating through your joints made standing without the cane a battle you weren’t willing to fight.

“Y/N?” Jayce’s voice was thick with alarm, his gaze dropping instantly to the cane in your hand. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

You hesitated, your hand tightening around the polished wood. The pain today was unbearable, spreading through your body like fire, refusing to be ignored even with the strongest medication you had on hand. It had taken everything you had just to make it to the workshop. Hiding this from them had always been easy—you’d mastered the art of disguising discomfort with easy smiles and careful movements—but today wasn’t one of those days.

“It’s nothing,” you said softly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Just… a bad day.”

“Nothing?” Jayce echoed, his voice rising slightly with disbelief. “Love, you’re using a cane. That’s not nothing. What’s going on?”

You sighed, your shoulders sagging under the weight of both the pain and their scrutiny. “It’s arthritis,” you admitted at last, your tone calm but firm. “I’ve had it for years. Most days, it’s manageable. I don’t even need the cane most of the time. But sometimes…” You glanced at the cane in your hand, then back at them, gesturing vaguely. “Well, sometimes it’s like this.”

Jayce looked as though someone had just punched him in the gut. His mouth opened and closed several times before he managed to get the words out. “You’ve had it for years? And you didn’t think to tell us?”

Viktor, however, didn’t react with the same shock. His amber eyes studied you with quiet understanding, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned back slightly in his chair. “You didn’t want us to worry,” he said gently, his voice low and measured. “You’ve dealt with it alone because you thought it was easier that way. Am I right?”

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you nodded. “Yes,” you admitted after a moment. “I didn’t want to burden either of you. You’ve both got so much on your plates already—Hextech, the Council, everything with Zaun. I didn’t want to add to it.”

Jayce ran a hand through his hair, his pacing footsteps echoing softly in the workshop. “Burden us?” he repeated, his voice tight with emotion. “You’re not a burden. You never could be. How could you even think that?”

“Because I know how much you two care,” you said softly, your eyes flicking between them. “And I didn’t want to see that look on your faces—this look—every time I had a bad day.”

Viktor’s own cane tapped gently against the floor as he moved closer to you, his expression steady but compassionate. “I understand,” he said, his tone reassuring. “It is not easy to let others see your struggles, especially when you’ve become so used to hiding them. But you don’t have to hide from us.”

Jayce stopped pacing and turned to face you, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “He’s right,” he said, his voice softer now, tinged with guilt. “We’re a team, Y/N. If you’re hurting, we want to know. We need to know.”

You felt your resolve waver under their combined concern, a lump forming in your throat. “I didn’t want to seem weak,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/N.” Viktor’s tone was firm but warm. “Strength is not pretending to be fine when you are not. It is letting those who care for you help.” He paused, a flicker of amusement softening his serious expression. “Besides, if you ever need to borrow my cane, you’re welcome to it. We can be a matching set.”

A startled laugh bubbled up through your tears, and you found yourself smiling despite the ache in your joints. “What, and have the two of us hobbling around like an old married couple?” you teased. “I think I’ll pass, Viktor.”

Jayce’s lips twitched into a smile, his shoulders relaxing as some of the tension left the room. “For the record,” he said, crossing the room in a few long strides and wrapping you in a fierce hug, “you’re not weak, Y/N. And you don’t have to do this alone anymore. We’re here—for the good days and the bad ones.”

Viktor placed a hand gently on your shoulder, his touch grounding. “And I promise I won’t make too many jokes about sharing canes. Only a few.” His eyes sparkled with subtle mischief.

You leaned into Jayce’s embrace, feeling the weight you’d been carrying alone begin to lift. With Jayce’s unrelenting support and Viktor’s quiet understanding—peppered with his dry humour—you realised you didn’t have to face the worst days alone anymore. And that thought, more than anything, made the pain a little easier to bear.

#Arcane #arcane fandom #arcane fluff #reader insert #jinx x platonic!reader #jayce x reader #jayce x you #jayce talis x reader #jayce x y/n #viktor x y/n #viktor x reader #jayce x reader x viktor #viktor x you #jayvik x reader #arcane angst

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defectivevillain · 1 day ago

Text

& your terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

pairing: Deadpool & Wolverine & Reader

The reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary: “Deadpool and Wolverine, sitting in a minivan, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…” The guy sings to himself, his head swaying back and forth as he continues. “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a dog in a… baby… carriage!” He taps his hands on the steering wheel restlessly. “Hm. That last part needs some work.” It doesn’t look like he’s noticed you sitting in the backseat.

Your Uber ride is... interesting, to say the least.

word count: 1.8k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical suggestive humor/blood & violence

author's note: This is probably the dumbest thing I've ever written. This fic is complete and utter crack. The logistics of this don’t really make sense either. I haven’t watched the second Deadpool movie, because I don’t have it in me to take on another pair of disaster gays. But! I saw the car fight scene and thought of this. (For example, I didn't realize until I started tagging this fic on AO3 that the Honda Odyssey belongs to Nicepool.... which clashes with this story. So... yeah. Canon doesn't exist to me.)

Also, I couldn't find a gif of them in the car that didn't just look like something right out of gay porn 💀 lmfaooo. anyways, hope you enjoy this shit show!

Uber is always a bit of a roll of the dice. Sometimes, the driver is great and the ride is painless. Other times, it’s awkward or uncomfortable—and the drive seems to take twice as long, if only because you’re relegated to staring out the window and regretting every decision you’ve ever made. You’ve been using Uber less these days, instead opting for a longer train ride or unpleasant bus ride.

Today, though, you’re exhausted. Your head is pounding; work was an absolute nightmare, per usual; and you just want nothing more than to go home. When you see the marked van of the Uber driver pulling up, you’re quick to slide into the backseat.

The driver—Joseph, the app says—can’t even get a word out before the window next to him is suddenly punched. You stare in fearful disbelief as a guy wearing red spandex promptly tugs him out of the car and kicks him into the nearby bushes. Then he sits in the driver’s seat, beginning to hum to himself casually.

“Deadpool and Wolverine, sitting in a minivan, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…” He sings to himself, his head swaying back and forth as he continues. “First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a dog in a… baby… carriage!” He taps his hands on the steering wheel restlessly. “Hm. That last part needs some work.” It doesn’t look like he’s noticed you.

“Do you ever stop fucking talking?” A new voice says. To your horror, there’s another guy now—he nearly rips the passenger side door off as he takes a seat, then slamming it behind him. You look at both of them, taking in their spandex costumes and assorted weapons. The yellow-suited man is Wolverine; and the red-suited man must be Deadpool—judging from that childish song he just sang. You think you’ve heard of them, maybe? They don’t seem to be particularly villainous guys, but you don’t know them well enough to make that assumption safely.

They continue bickering for several minutes, not even bothering to turn around and glance at their occupied backseat. Eventually your annoyance trumps your anxiety and you address them. “Can you stop flirting and just drive?” You blurt out.

They both flinch, whipping around in their seats as if just noticing you.

“Oh, hello!” Deadpool chirps brightly, sending you a friendly wave that feels very misplaced for the current situation. “How long have you been there?” He tilts his head curiously.

“The entire time.” You answer.

“Wonderful.” Wolverine says dryly.

“It’s not my fault you lack situational awareness.” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. The guy’s eyebrow shoots up his face in clear irritation. You try to pretend your hands aren’t shaking. This is completely normal. Just an ordinary commute after work. “Anyways, can you just drive already?” You add on impatiently. It’s been a long day and this really isn’t helping it go any faster. You fidget uncomfortably.

“Drive?” Deadpool asks, seeming confused.

“We’re in a car, in case you didn’t notice.” You say, your headache speaking for you. These two have been talking the entire time you’ve been sitting here. “And you threw my Uber driver into the bushes over there, so….” You trail off.

“Then you can take a trip to the bushes next.” Wolverine says gruffly.

“No, that makes you the Uber driver, buddy.” You assert, turning to the red-suited guy sitting in the driver’s seat. He seems to be a lot more amicable—and easily persuaded—than the grouch. “So buckle up and take your eyes off your friend for two seconds to take me where I need to go.” And wow, you must be even more tired than you thought.

“Do you have any idea who you’re speaking to?” Wolverine practically orders.

“Not really.” You admit. Nothing about this interaction makes sense to you. It may as well be a dream sequence, because your filter is completely gone. “The couple's costumes are cute, though.”

“We’re not a couple.” He immediately corrects you.

Deadpool visibly droops at his side. “Come on, you’re breaking my heart.” He says somewhat sarcastically. Immediately, the two guys seem to be on the verge of arguing again.

You sigh and try to summon some patience. Maybe you can appeal to their cold, dead hearts by being nice. “Hey, can you just drive me to where I need to go, please?” You ask, breaking through their taunting once more. “I won’t tell anyone about whatever this is. I just want to go home.”

You must look particularly pathetic, because after only a few moments of silence, they both seem to cave in. “Where are you going.” Wolverine almost growls, managing to make the question sound like a demand. You answer with the address and he sighs, plugging it into the GPS system next to the front console.

Deadpool begins driving. No one is talking, as the vigilante focuses on the road; you fight off your growing fear, and Wolverine stews in irritation. They’re talking about something in hushed whispers, but you’re too exhausted and overwhelmed to eavesdrop. It’s only when they begin to raise their voices that you realize you may not reach your destination just yet. They’re currently engaged in a worrying stare-off, with Deadpool not even looking at the road ahead.

…You’re definitely going to die.

When the car screeches to a stop moments later, you’re not very surprised. Deadpool seems to be resisting the urge to put his knife through Wolverine. You take one look at the two of them and decide you don’t want to be a part of their homoerotic fist fight. So you open your door—which is unlocked, by some miracle—and head off to sit nearby. You find a decently-sized tree and sit behind it, using it as a makeshift barrier from the violence occurring behind you. For a while, you can only hear pained hisses and curse words. Just when you start to think the fight is over, the glass of the windshield shatters and a blur of motion passes before your eyes. Wolverine catches himself with a hand on the ground, crouching and slowly looking up only to meet your eyes. He then stares at you in disbelief, clearly surprised to see you. You can’t find any words to say.

Your presence must distract him, because soon Deadpool is running at him with a gleeful cry. “Thanks, baby!” The mercenary says to you, before throwing a punch at the superhero. They start trading hits and you glance at the car forlornly.

Truthfully, you want nothing more than to steal the van and drive away, but Deadpool and Wolverine are still too close. While they’re distracted, though, you manage to sneak back to the car—swiping the keys and the knife that was neglected in the passenger seat. Then they’re throwing each other at the car again, and you’re back at a distance.

It’s extremely amusing to see the two guys finally collapse in the car after their unnecessarily long fight… only to realize they don’t have the keys. They seem moments away from brawling it out again, when you snap. Today has really been the worst day you’ve had in a long time. And it was looking to be that way, even before all of this nonsense.

You move mechanically, until you’re standing before the broken window on the driver’s side. “Get up.” You say, swallowing past the burning feeling in your throat. The urge to cry is growing stronger with every passing second. Deadpool just looks up at you. In a burst of exhausted anger, you point the knife at him. You don’t have any plans to use it, of course. But you get the sense he only really listens to violence.

There’s silence for a long time. “Are we getting carjacked?” Deadpool eventually asks.

“No,” you sigh. “Just get in the back. Please. It’s been a long day; I just want to go home. You can fool around and do your stupid shit after.” Your voice breaks somewhere along the way and you think your hand is shaking ever so slightly as you hold the knife.

Deadpool and Wolverine turn towards each other, some sort of silent understanding passing between them. Then the vigilante is gently holding the blade and taking it from your hand. He heads to the backseat, before Wolverine lets out a groan and does the same.

You bite the inside of your cheek and sit down, starting the car. Fortunately, it seems the car is still functioning—despite the bloodbath it just saw. These two seem a little hardheaded, but not stupid enough to risk getting stranded without a working car.

You try to hide your shaking hands as you turn your attention to the GPS system, before putting the car in reverse and then proceeding onto the nearby street. Luckily, you’re not far from where you wanted to be—with a ten minute drive, you’ll arrive.

Those ten minutes feel like ten hours. The guys are completely silent in the back, evidently tired from their fight. The van looks… well, rather bad. There are bloodstains everywhere and you think the driver’s seat must’ve been knifed, because it feels weirdly uncomfortable. But finally, finally, you arrive and pull into the parking lot.

You take a slow breath, pretending not to feel as scared and restless as you are. Your survival instincts kick in and you quickly turn the car off. From there, you almost robotically exit the car. The sheer absurdity of the situation is starting to catch up to you. And despite the fact that neither of the men paid you much attention, you can’t shake off the knowledge that they could kill you in the blink of an eye.

“You’ll give us a five-star rating, right?” Deadpool asks through the space where the back seat window used to be. His remark unknowingly breaks through your quickly spiraling thoughts.

You don’t bother entertaining his question. “Have fun on your little adventure.” You manage to say instead. The remark is intended to be somewhat sarcastic, but it comes out quiet and too sincere.

“It’s an average size for an adventure, thank you very much.” Deadpool jokes. Then he almost seems to straighten up. His mask covers his entire face, but his voice sounds sympathetic. “Get some rest, pal. You look like hell.”

He seems concerned. It’s a strange thought. You stand there for a bit longer than you should, because you’re so surprised by the remark. Then you blink and break out of your thoughts, closing the door behind you and walking away. The unmistakable screeching sound of tires on pavement informs you of their departure.

It takes you several hours to convince yourself you’re safe and sound. And when your head finally hits your pillow that night, you’re graced with one humorous thought: you’ve had weirder Uber drivers, ironically.

Deadpool, turning towards you: So I guess this means I'm your Uber driver now...? Wolverine, frowning: ...I've never been to oovoo javer.

What the hell am I doing with my life. I haven't even watched this movie god dammit. And I have yet ANOTHER fic draft with these two... (－‸ლ)

I like how I updated my blog's theme (and it's beautiful and I don't care what anyone says), only to post this absolute dumpster fire of a fic immediately after. Like, how does anyone take me seriously...

anyways, thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat @always-lying-to-you @moss4ev3r

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

#defectivevillain #mcu #mcu x reader #male reader #gn reader #transmasc reader #deadpool x wolverine #deadpool x reader #wolverine x reader #deadpool x wolverine x reader #because duh #wade wilson x reader #Logan x reader #ok that's the most I'm putting for the tags

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wrttenbyhan · 2 days ago

Text

dear future husband..

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 :

annoyed!fem reader x soon to be fiancé!han jisung

𝐚/𝐧 :

my first oneshot ��

“love, you're making this difficult,”

a groan lingers in the back of han's throat, although he stifles it inside for his sake.

your heels tap on the ground with a fierce pace, eyes narrowed, keeping your back turned on him.

“nessa, come on, baby,”

he hesitates to pull you back, but he decides to grab onto your purse's string, stopping you in your tracks.

“why are you like this? what'd i do?”

you spun around,

“you're late! this isn't the first time you've done this to our dates, han.”

well, how would you not be frustrated? you dolled up for hours and he shows up an hour late.

“i’m sorry, angel, something.. came up at work,”

han internally curses at himself. he got too carried away looking at rings and flowers, thinking it's only six o’ clock. how's he gonna propose when you're mad at him?

you sigh and repeat his last word out loud.

han can immediately tell from the tone of your voice that you clearly don't believe him. he hesitates to respond further, knowing damn well you'll get more annoyed.

“yeah,”

he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

“i had something to do urgently, and i got held back.”

truthfully, he wanted to ask the florist on which bouquet's the best to give to you and the jeweller on the right ring, but you don't need to know that yet.

“you say that all the time,”

you say, before tugging onto your purse so your boyfriend lets go,

“i can't believe you anymore.”

han grits his teeth at your comment. you weren’t wrong though, he does say that excuse a lot..

“i really did, i swear. we had a meeting about our latest album.”

he knows you wouldn’t believe him either way, but he tries to sound convincing. he just needed to make you believe him somehow so that you and him can go on your date and end the day on a good note before he proposed on the next day.

“but this isn't the first time this has happened.”

“i know.. i-”

han heaves a long sigh. he knows how frustrated you are, and he's frustrated at himself too. why couldn’t he have just double checked the time?

he takes a few steps closer to you, gently rubbing comforting circles around your arms.

“i’m really sorry, i didn’t mean to make you this mad..”

“are you cheating on me?”

you say, the question just spilling out of your mouth. you audibly hear han gasp,

“what?”

his mouth drops at your question, eyes widening.

“of course not! i’d never do that to you..”

he’s completely shocked that you'd even ask that. it’s the last thing he would ever do to you, cheat on you. even the thought of it just sickens him.

“then what are you doing that’s making you late all the time? because it’s not work.”

“i-”

he hesitates and internally panics. he can’t just tell you yet, he has to come up with a random excuse.

“it’s just work, i swear!”

he knows it’s a terrible excuse, but he has no choice. if he told you the real reason, it’d ruin the surprise.. and ruin his proposal for tomorrow.

“fine..”

you sigh, before dragging him along to the car. han takes your hand in his, intertwining fingers, and heads out of his apartment and into the car. he helps you into the passenger seat before hopping into the driver’s seat and starting the vehicle.

the entire car ride was pretty silent, a comfortable one though. he glances over at you from time to time. you still look mad, and he mentally curses at himself.

“han, you idiot, make her happy,”

is what he said to himself in his mind.

as he stops the car at the parking lot, he immediately unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of the car. he hurries around the car to open your door for you.

he helps you out of the car and shuts the door close before taking your hand in his again.

“come on.”

with that, he slowly walks beside you into the restaurant, still holding onto your hand.

as you both entered and were escorted to a table, han quietly pulls back your chair from the table before gesturing you to take a seat. he pushes the chair back closer to the table before sitting down into his own seat across from you.

he grabs the menu and looks over the options, although he’a not actually thinking of what to order. he’s too focused on your mood instead.

he sneaks a few glances at you as you scan your eyes over the menu. he’s still upset over the fact you thought he’d cheat on you. how could you even think that? he loves you more than anything in this world, and he could never, ever do that to you.

han notices you set the menu down and fold your arms across your chest, now looking out of the window. you still don’t look too happy, and it breaks his heart seeing you like that. he hates himself for messing up this date with you.

he sighs, folding his own menu and setting it beside the other. he reaches a hand out to take yours on the table, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“can you look at me?”

he asks gently,

“please.”

“hm?”

he pouts at your emotionless response, and he continues to rub your knuckles.

“please, look at me..”

he repeats, a slight desperate tone in his voice. he just wants you to look at him. you ask him why, and he only just sighs louder. that stung. he’s not expecting that response. he tries his best to keep his calm, although that comment hurt him.

he takes a deep breath and speaks.

“i want you to look at me because i hate it when you’re mad at me..”

you look anywhere but at his eyes. you end up staring at the menu, saying,

“i’m not mad at you.”

yet it was clear you were annoyed with him because you said it with sass and attitude. han raises an eyebrow at your comment, not believing you. you’re still not looking at him, and he knows you’re definitely mad.

“love, you’re definitely mad. you just won’t admit it.”

you look up at him, groaning and rolling your eyes. he almost let out a sigh of relief when you finally looked at him. the sight of your eyes made his heart skip a beat.

he holds your hand gently, intertwining his fingers with yours and rubbing circles around your knuckles.

“finally..”

he smiles, trying to act casually and hide his relief.

“there’s that pretty face of yours,”

he mutters quietly as he looks at you, staring into your eyes.

he brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on your knuckles,

“and there’s those beautiful eyes i love seeing..”

he looks at you expectantly, studying your expression closely. he can tell you’re still upset with him, but he doesn’t want to mention anything that might worsen the mood.

“are you.. still mad at me?”

he asks in a hesitant tone, afraid of your response. you shake your head and he grins, and you find yourself grinning back.

his heart flutters in relief and he lets out a breath as he gently massages your knuckle, feeling overjoyed that you’re no longer upset.

“good..”

he mumbles blissfully. curious, you ask him what he's going to order.

“hm?”

he glances at you, surprised by your random question.

“oh uh, i’ll just have the steak, rare.”

he answers, his thoughts elsewhere. he’s wondering how he’s gonna propose later.

“how about you?”

you hesitate, knowing that he'll probably tease you for choosing yet again,

“the pasta.”

as expected, han scoffs and chuckles, his hand squeezing yours.

“you’re getting pasta again?”

he teased you since you always ordered pasta when both of you went to a restaurant. you blush in embarrassment and nod. you then looked at the menu again, trying to see if there was anything that piqued your interest.

“i could have the fish.. or the potatoes.”

he hums, trying to picture you eating fish or potatoes.

“you know you’re gonna end up ordering pasta again.”

he comments, and he’s correct, most likely. after a good two minutes, you sigh and look up at han, who was still smirking from ear to ear.

“can.. can i just have the pasta?”

“if that’s what you really want..”

he grins, knowing you’d never ever change off the pasta.

“at least you’ll be happy with your decision.”

he lets go of one of your hands and motions for a waiter. a waiter makes his way to your table, the man smiling politely as he pulls out a pen and notepad.

han turns to the waiter and says,

“we’d like to order now.”

“i’ll have the steak, rare. and she’ll have the pasta.”

he tells the waiter.

they nod and jots down the orders, looking up at both of you.

“will that be all?”

“yes, we’re done for now,”

he replies, nodding slightly at the waiter.

they smile once again.

“your orders will be ready in a while. thank you.”

with that, the man walks away.

he turns back to you, looking at you again. he takes your hand in his again, gently stroking your knuckles with his thumb.

“you know i’m right.”

he points out, a hint of a playful smirk crossing his features.

“you’re not gonna change your mind, because you always choose pasta.”

you giggle and tell him to shut up. but then your attention immediately goes to a man going down on one knee to his girlfriend. he watches the couple from the other table in a corner of his eye, seeing the man taking out a small velvet box and holding it out to his girlfriend. han feels slightly envious of their moment, as it’s only a matter of time before his own proposal begins.

he hums, still watching the couple in envy. He’s wondering how he’s going to pull off his own proposal later at night.

“they look happy,”

he comments quietly, still studying the couple. the man is now holding the girlfriend’s hand as he slides the ring on her finger.

“aww!”

you mumble, while the man embraces the now-engaged woman, both of them sharing a soft kiss.

han’s heart aches slightly in jealousy of the couple as he watches them. he suddenly wonders how you’ll react to his own proposal.

you whisper to han,

“she’s crying, that's so adorable!”

he nods his head in agreement with your statement, focusing on the engaged couple.

“it is cute,”

he muses, continuing to watch their moment. He looks at their happy faces and wishes for his own proposal to be a success.

“i wonder if you’ll cry too when i propose to you…”

he mumbles to himself, watching as the man helps his newly-engaged woman up from her chair and holding her in his arms.

“or maybe you won’t cry, and you’ll simply just look at me in shock.. like how you did when i first confessed to you..”

he smiles slightly at the memory of your surprised face when he confessed to you.

it was now the morning of the big day. han was going to propose to you today.

he was woken up by the sunlight streaming through the curtains. he blinks his eyes open, the sunlight slightly blinding him. he sits up in the bed, the sheets pooling around his lap. his eyes scan around the bedroom, landing on you, who was still asleep.

he takes a moment to admire you in your slumber, seeing your peaceful face and your slowly rising chest.

he then glances at the digital clock on the bedside. six am. another hour, and he’ll propose to you. he can already feel his heart rate quicken in anticipation.

he lets out a shaky breath, trying to calm down his racing heart. he looks at you once more, seeing your eyes still shut.

quietly, he slowly slips out of bed and pads across the carpet to the bathroom. he flicks on the light and closes the door softly.

he turns to the mirror, his eyes landing on his own reflection. he takes in his appearance, seeing his disheveled hair, and his slightly swollen eyes.

“you look nervous,”

he thinks to himself, trying to compose himself. he splashes cold water on his face and tries to calm down.

he grabs a towel off the rack and starts drying his face. he takes a few more breaths, taking the time to calm down from his nervousness.

he’s nervous, but he’s also excited to finally make you his fiancé and future wife.

the thought of what is to come floods into han’s mind.

“what if she says no? what if she hates the ring? what if she doesn’t want to marry me yet?”

his brain is suddenly filled with negative thoughts, and he tries to get rid of them. a cold feeling washes over him at the thought of you saying no to him.

“calm down,”

he tells himself, don’t overthink it. he glances at the mirror again, looking at his reflection once more.

he looks a little shaky and a bit pale, so he splashes his face with cold water again. he’s trying to calm down, but the thought of you rejecting him is constantly looping his mind,

“you’re just overthinking, he reassures himself, she’s not going to say no. you both already talked about getting married someday..”

he tries to stop his anxious thoughts but just the mere idea of you saying no is eating him up inside.

he lets out another shaky breath, trying to push the negative thoughts away. he forces on a small smile and tells himself everything will be okay.

“you’re going to propose, and she’s going to say yes. you’ll get engaged that night, and she’ll love the ring. it’s gonna be fine. you’ve been together for years, and she’s madly in love with you..”

han slowly steps out of the bathroom, his mind still racing with thoughts.

he approaches the bed and sits on the edge, looking at your sleeping form once again.

“babe,”

he calls out quietly, gently shaking your shoulder. he continues gently shaking your shoulder, trying to wake you up.

“babe..”

he repeats, his voice soft so he doesn’t startle you. your eyes flutter open and you sit up, rubbing your eyes and squinting. han couldn't help but smile at how adorable you were, your messy hair all over the place and how you struggled to get up.

“morning, love,”

he says gently.

“sorry to wake you,”

he apologizes as his words register in your sleepy head. you smile tiredly and puckered your lips at him. he chuckles and obediently pecks your lips and buried his head into your neck.

“i have a surprise for you,”

he suddenly whispers it into your ear, gently biting the crook of your neck, arms slowly wrapping around your waist. his breath feels heavy and hot.

without a word to protest, han pulls you towards the balcony, your steps following his as he guides you.

the night breeze was fresh, a little chilly. the sky was clear and a hint of the moonlight seeps into the balcony.

he slowly tugs you by the railing. you feel han behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder. he rubs your sides and you look behind yourself, seeing his beautiful face. he smiles and you ask him,

“what’s the surprise?”

“just.. stay still and just close your eyes,”

he softly kisses your cheek as he gently commands you to shut your eyes. he's being strangely careful,

“no peeking..”

he flips around so that you're facing him. he gently places your hands over your eyes and whispers,

“keep still, honey.”

he hugs you from behind for a few seconds, rubbing your hips to relax you, but mostly to relax himself.

he moves away, letting his warmth leave your body, going in front you. you can hear his ragged breathing, and a whisper. a click of his tongue.

then, you feel his presence before you. he was knelt down on one knee, facing you now.

“you can open your eyes now, angel..”

his voice was soft. your eyes were met with his, his soft brown hues staring into your soul, a smile playing in the corners of his lips. a shaky breath leaves his lips.

he's holding a small black velvet box, holding on to it anxiously. you gasp and han chuckled at your reaction, taking a shaky breath, fiddling with the box.

“i didn’t think it would take me so much courage..”

he slowly opens the box, revealing a diamond ring to you, sparkling under the moonlight.

“i..”

he can feel his heart hammering against his chest, sweat coating his skin. he can’t find the words, but he tries anyway, his eyes not leaving yours.

“i’ve been in love with you since the day i met you. i don’t ever wanna lose you. i can’t live.. and i don't want to live without you,”

he can feel nervousness bubble up within him, his body tense.

“i don’t want to be just your boyfriend anymore.. i want more..”

he gently grabs one of your hands, holding it tightly, his thumb stroking the back of it.

he takes another shaky breath in, his brown eyes locking with yours intently.

“i want to marry you…”

he lets the words hang in the air, the night suddenly falling deadly silent. it was only you and him, alone. he nervously awaits your response, breath caught within his throat, his eyes filled with desperation.

“will you.. marry me, angel?”

you find yourself choked up in tears. you sob and han was taken aback by your sudden reaction, watching a tear roll down your cheek, your hand slightly trembling within his grasp.

his eyes widen a little bit, his heart suddenly aching, as he waited for your answer. he says to himself in the back of his mind,

“please say yes..”

you stare at han on the ground for you. he looks up and you, concerned, awaiting your answer. you nod and blurt out,

“yes!”

a sigh of relief escaped his lips. a shaky breath.

a genuine smile slowly pulls its way up and takes over his features, his eyes lighting up, his lips trembling. he gingerly takes the ring out of the box and slowly slides it onto your finger.

“you’re mine..”

he whispers, his voice cracking a little. he stood up and pulled you into his chest, his arms caging you.

he could hear your cries against his chest, his hands gently tracing over your back, his chin resting on top of your head.

“you’re crying.. why are you crying, angel? every time i see you cry, i..”

he softly mumbled, his own tears stopping him from finishing the sentence. he embraces you firmly against his frame, his warmth enveloping you. you choke out,

“i’m just so happy..”

han held you a little closer, his nose nuzzling against the top of your head, his hand gently caressing your back. He lets out another shaky breath, a sigh of relief.

“so you really are mine now.. my fiancé..”

the word falling off his mouth was like honey to your ears.

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cosmiclily · 3 days ago

Text

chapter two: begin again

wc: 1.1k

As the van pulled away from the hotel, the excitement in the air was palpable, though tension lingered beneath the surface. Everyone seemed focused—Ekko scrolling through the setlist on his phone, Jinx half-humming a melody she was tinkering with, and Archie furiously typing on his tablet, probably juggling logistics for the added tour dates.

Vi, however, sat quietly in the back, her sunglasses still on as she leaned her head against the window. The rhythmic hum of the van seemed to lull her into a daze, but you weren’t sure if she was lost in thought or just trying to block everything out. It had been weeks since she’d been the person you once knew.

After a few minutes, you slid into the seat beside her. “You good?” you asked, keeping your voice low so the others wouldn’t hear. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but you wanted to know where her head was at.

She didn’t respond right away, her gaze fixed on the blur of trees and buildings outside. Finally, she sighed. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice sounding small. “I feel like… I’m not ready for this. For any of it.”

You frowned, the concern thick in your chest. “You don’t have to be ready for everything all at once. Just show up, Vi. That’s all anyone’s asking.”

She turned to you then, pulling her sunglasses down slightly to reveal her tired, red-rimmed eyes. She looked vulnerable, like a piece of her was still trying to catch up to the life you were all living. “What if I show up and it’s not enough? What if I mess it up for everyone?”

You leaned forward, locking eyes with her. “You won’t,” you said firmly, trying to keep the doubt from creeping into your own words. “You’ve got us, Vi. We’ll figure it out together. You’re not doing this alone. We’re a band—we’ve always been a band. And no matter what happens, we’ll make it.”

She studied you for a moment, her expression softening just a bit. You could see the struggle behind her tired eyes, the weight of her past months still clinging to her. “Thanks,” she murmured, slipping her sunglasses back into place and leaning her head back against the seat. “I’ll try.”

The rest of the ride passed mostly in silence, save for the occasional rustle of papers from Archie or Jinx’s off-key humming. You caught glimpses of her, her fingers absently tapping the window, lost in the rhythm of the van as it bumped along the road. You hoped, for both of your sakes, that she really would try. And that, someday soon, she’d find her way back to the person she used to be.

As you neared the next venue, you found yourself gripping the edge of your seat, a nervous energy building in your chest. These next shows could change everything—but only if you could keep things from falling apart.

You glanced back at Vi one last time. For all her flaws and struggles, she was still the backbone of the band. If she could just find her footing, you knew she’d be unstoppable.

──────────────────────

The next concerts went surprisingly smoothly. Despite the sharp lecture Archie had given Vi after her rough morning, it seemed like something had finally clicked for her. It was as if she’d “woken up” to what was truly at stake. She started drinking less, showing up on time, and, for once, staying present. The days of her vanishing without a word or stumbling in late were seemingly behind her. Things were starting to look up—not just for Vi, but for the entire band.

Everyone could feel the shift. There was a new sense of focus and determination in the air, the kind that only comes when you realize just how close you are to something big. The upcoming shows weren’t just concerts—they were stepping stones toward something greater. And while every performance mattered, there was a special buzz surrounding the final concert in LA.

Not only would it be the biggest show of the tour, but it also carried an unspoken weight. LA wasn’t just another city; it was the heart of the industry, the place where dreams were either made or shattered. This performance had the potential to solidify the band’s reputation, and everyone knew it.

As the tour rolled on, Vi’s transformation became more noticeable. During rehearsals, her drumming was sharper, her beats more precise, and her timing impeccable. She poured all her energy into her kit, the raw emotion of her breakup with Caitlyn channeling into every strike of the snare and crash of the cymbals. There was a fire in her playing that hadn’t been there in weeks, and it was impossible not to feel it.

The rest of the band fed off that energy. Jinx’s solos were more daring, Ekko’s rhythms tighter than ever, and even you felt a renewed sense of purpose every time you stepped on stage. The crowds noticed too. Each night, the cheers grew louder, the applause lasting longer. You could see new fans sharing videos of the shows online, tagging the band in posts, and even singing along to songs that had only been released a few months ago.

By the time you reached LA, the anticipation was electric. The venue was massive, a far cry from the dingy bars and tiny clubs where you’d started. As the crew unloaded the equipment and set up for the night, Archie pulled the band aside for a pep talk.

“This is it,” he said, his voice brimming with pride and a touch of nervousness. “You’ve worked your asses off to get here, and now’s your chance to prove you deserve to stay here. The label reps will be in the crowd, along with some big names in the industry. But don’t let that get to you. Just do what you do best, and you’ll knock them dead.”

For a moment, the weight of the situation felt heavy, but then you looked around at your bandmates. Jinx was grinning ear to ear, her hands twitching with excitement. Ekko was nodding confidently, a quiet determination in his eyes. And Vi—Vi was sitting behind her drum kit, gripping her sticks tightly, her gaze steady and clear.

As the lights dimmed and the crowd roared, you stepped onto the stage with your heart pounding in your chest. The band took their places, and for a brief second, there was silence—a moment of calm before the storm.

LA wasn’t the end. It was just the beginning.

──────────────────────

masterlist - chapter three

notes: short chspter, just for transition, the next one things are gonna be interesting 😋😋😋

tags: @saturnhas82moons @baylegend6

(if you wanna be added to the taglist, lmk)

#vi x reader #vi x y/n #vi x you #arcane #vi arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #lily writes

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thanosscross · 16 hours ago

Text

All for show 2/? - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader

Summary: After growing bored at home, you finally decide to sneak off and surprise Seung Hyun for his birthday, only to get a surprise of your own.

Warnings: None lovelies! <33

Not having any more shows, it was starting to drive you nuts, especially with your manager adding another three months to your break, like you were a child in timeout. You were basically stuck at home, doing over the phone interviews and photoshoots for brand deals. You spent most of time at home, either writing new songs, or finding stupid silly things to send a picture of to Seung Hyun. You both had started a little habit, anytime Seung Hyun saw something beautiful or captivating, he'd send you a picture, and you'd always find the weirdest funniest things to send him pictures of.

You had been trying harder to learn more Korean, thankful for your new friend for always helping you whenever you needed, Seung Hyun was always happy to help you, it charmed and flustered him that you were willing to make that big of an effort just to be able to speak with him more clearly. You were slowly getting better with it, still having hiccups and issues every now and then, but you always ended up getting it in the end. The boys knew, they needed to keep your and Seung Hyun's friendship under wraps, knowing your style of music and dancing wasn't exactly the thing, YG would want to see associating with his boys, not right now at least. You weren't concerned about it though, mainly just focused on Seung Hyun, his friends whenever they'd pop into the room during your calls, and your music, if your manager wouldn't let you perform, you were at least going to make sure your fans were getting new music while they waited.

Seung Hyun on the other hand, was being tossed from tour shows, to interviews, to variety shows, and rehearsals. Despite all of his running around, he'd still always find time to speak with you, you just seemed to make him feel better about his stress. As he plopped onto the recording studio's couch, Seung Hyun tapped your contact, pressing the small 'facetime' button by your name. "Aein! What are you doing!?" He laughed loudly, as soon as the call was answered, Seung Hyun was met with you sitting on top of one of the doors in your house. You were grateful for your overly tall ceiling, allowing you to always sit on the doors or just climb around on the awkward architecture parts of your home. "나는 스파이더맨이야! (I'm spiderman)!" You shouted, proud of yourself for repeating the phrase you had spent the last three hours trying to learn, Seung Hyun couldn't contain his laughter "Aein, Please! You're going to fall!" He pleaded, trying his best to get you to get down, not wanting to see you fall and hurt yourself. "I'm okay! See, like thirty pillows under me!" You giggled, turning your phone to show him the mountain of pillows and blankets sitting on the floor, beneath you. "You're so silly" He chuckled, turning his phone towards Ji-Yong who sat not far away from him "Is that where Americans sit in their free time?" He joked playfully, watching as you stuck your tongue out "For me? Yes" You replied before leaning your chin on the top of the door as you watched Seung Hyun appear back into the camera's frame.

"How's your day been, Aein?" He asked softly, resting an arm underneath his head as he watched you drop your phone down, before climbing down off of the door, ready to show him your latest creation of music. "아주 좋아, 새로운 노래를 만들었어 (Very good, I made a new song)" You smiled softly, making your way into the in-home studio you had built for the exact reason of Christopher being a dick. "Your Korean is getting really good! Are you learning from another person?" He teased, smiling as you blushed hiding your face for a moment "No, I just have a lot of free time, and I enjoy talking with you" You smiled, sitting down in your office chair as you set your phone up on your desk, trying to find the file on your computer. "So, I have a music video idea for it, but I was wondering...if you boys were free, and able to, if you would want to come help shoot for it?" You smiled softly, picking at your night pants nervously, you hadn't asked anything like this before, usually you left it all to Chris, but you really wanted the boys there, specifically Seung Hyun. "I'll talk to YG, see if we can't make it happen" He smiled softly, watching as you jumped up excitedly, squealing and doing a lap around your recording studio as you cheered "They haven't said yes yet!" He laughed, you just sat back down in your chair giggling "Yes but you said you would talk to them!" You smiled, pulling your knees to your chest as you took in every feature of Seung Hyun's before he had to end the call. "당신은 아름답습니다, 나의 뮤즈 (You're beautiful, my muse)" He muttered, smacking Ji-Yong and Dae-Sung's legs as they made playful kissing noises next to him. "No! You can't say that!! I worked for almost two hours to learn how to call you my muse!" You shouted laughing, jumping up into your chair, covering your face, of course he would pull that line before you could. "Aww, I'm your muse?" He smiled, holding a hand over his heart as he watched you "Yes, you are, is that a problem?" You giggled, picking up your phone as you finally found the audio clip from your last recording session "Nope, no problem" Seung Hyun replied smiling, hoping you wouldn't notice the blush on his cheeks "So! This song is..very different, and I want the boys around you to hear too! You guys have listened to my music before, so, I tried making a song that I liked making, not Christopher basically writing it for me, and I haven't had time to edit everything, so the music hasn't been added" You explained nervously, setting your phone down to face the computer screen as you hit play, you paced nervously behind your phone as your voice started to play through the speakers.

Whenever the recording finished, you squealed pausing it as the recording of you playing around in the recording booth started to play "Wait! Wait! That was my song!" Seung Hyun laughed, recognizing his lyrics for one of his singles, you just shushed him loudly, sliding into the floor as you snatched your phone from the desk "No it wasn't, you're hearing things" You protested, giggling as he just gave you a questioning look, you just sighed smiling "it's fun to do that" You admitted shyly, watching as he just chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. "I like that song, it was pretty" Seung Hyun replied softly, smiling whenever you jumped in your spot slightly in excitement "Really? You really liked it?" You gasped excitedly, moving from the floor over to your desk again, smiling brightly. "I did, you sound beautiful, and the song itself is beautiful" He smiled softly, glancing over as Tae-Yang stepped out of the recording booth, pointing towards Seung Hyun, letting him know he was next to record. "Thank you, It means a lot, especially coming from you" You smiled softly, a bright blush covering your cheeks as he gave you the usual sweet smile, he would anytime you'd say something sweet or endearing to him. "녹음을 해야 해서 곧 집에 돌아가면 전화할게, 알겠지 아름다워? (I have to record, so I'll call you when I get home soon, okay Beautiful?)" Seung Hyun replied sadly, watching as your face fell "Fine, I guess I'll let you off of the phone.." You whispered playfully, giggling loudly whenever Seung Hyun playfully poked his bottom lip out in a pout "I'm sorry, Aein, but I must go, I'll talk to you in a little bit, byee~" He smiled softly, you just smiled sweetly "당신을 사랑해요, 여보, byee~ (I love you, honey)" You replied quickly before ending the call, squealing loudly as you processed what you said. You had both been steady friends for a few months now, talking almost every day, along with falling asleep on the phone together, while you flirted and teased each other, neither of you went as far as saying 'I love you' until now.

Seung Hyun would be taken by surprise by your statement, he felt giddy at your words, smiling brightly as he made his way into the recording booth to do his verses. Taking notice to his friend's smiley, giddy state, Ji-Yong raised his phone, recording a quick video before sending it to you with the caption 'What in the world did you do to our boy?'

You'd giggle loudly whenever you'd watch over the video that Ji-Yong sent you, replying back as you smiled brightly 'I did nothing, other than learn Korean :)' You'd turn to focus on your next plan, a secret plan, that nobody knew, other than your assistant, You were flying to South Korea, planning on surprising Seung Hyun for his birthday next month. Thankfully, Dae-Sung was happy to help you, and happy to keep a secret for you, making your plan go through so much smoother. Whenever the day would come to fly out, you'd keep your head down, not wanting to be spotted by paparazzi, they'd immediately snitch you out to your manager and then your plan would go down in flames.

You had been working so hard as you boarded the private plane, convincing Seung Hyun that you had forgotten his birthday entirely, before going on a 'mental reset retreat' for the day. It broke your heart seeing how disappointed he looked that he wouldn't hear from you anymore until tomorrow, but you knew it'd be worth it whenever you got to see him in person again. As your plane landed, and you made it through security and everything else necessary to enter the country, you were immediately greeted by Dae-Sung and his security. "Y/n!! I've missed you!" He squealed, hugging you tightly as he smiled, grabbing your bags quickly from you as he smiled "Ready to go see Seung Hyun? He's got no clue, he's actually been listening to your music since you got on your flight, I think he's hating the not talking to you" He giggled softly, motioning towards the doors where a car sat outside waiting for you all "나도 너를 그리웠어! 정말 준비됐어, 승현이랑 보내는 시간이 그리웠어. (I missed you too! I'm really ready, I missed spending time with Seung Hyun)" You replied, relaxing a bit now that you were finally on the ground and not thousands of feet in the air. "당신의 한국어가 정말 잘 하시네요, 빨리 배우시는 것 같아요. (Your Korean is really good, I think you're learning it quickly.)" Dae-Sung smiled, holding the door to the car open for you, before climbing in behind you, you sat nervously as the car slowly approached a rather larger home, entering the gate before it came to a complete stop "Holy shit" You whispered, following Dae-Sung as he stepped out of the car "Just stay behind me, He's got a fancy doorbell, so he might check it and see you" He explained smiling, you just nodded excitedly, holding onto his arm as he walked up to the front door, ringing the bell before placing his hand over the camera of the doorbell "Seung Hyunnn!~ It's Dae-Sung!" He called through the door, not wanting to freak his friend out by the lack of view in his camera on the doorbell. As Dae-Sung heard the locks start to undo, he was quick to step back smiling at you "You have to come see us before you leave, have fun! Don't break our Hyung!" Dae-Sung teased before rushing to hide in the car, excitedly watching as Seung Hyun opened the door.

"Aein! What in the world are you doing here!?" Seung Hyun gasped, pulling you into a tight hug, smiling brightly as you hugged back "I wanted to surprise you for your birthday! Did you really think I forgot!?" You giggled, nudging his shoulder slightly as you pulled away softly "Honestly?..A little bit" He smiled, before stepping back opening the door wider to let you in "I would never! You're my best friend, Seung Hyun, of course I'm going to remember your birthday" You smiled, looking around, marveling at how beautiful his home looked in person. "I just- You're here!" He laughed excitedly, hugging you again causing you to giggle loudly "I am! For a whole two weeks!" You smiled, he just hugged you tighter, too excited to do anything else at the moment. You just hugged him back the entire time, feeling your heart swell, not having that many friends or family, you never really had anybody that was ever excited to see you, yes you had fans, but nobody in your personal circle. So Seung Hyun being over the moon excited, made you feel truly loved and wanted, especially whenever Seung Hyun treated you the way he has.

Whenever Seung Hyun finally stopped hugging you, you both sat down on the sofa, smiling as you went through your bag, trying to find the envelope you had managed to keep track of for the last three weeks. You had taken forever with writing it, wanting to make sure you could write it in Korean before you gave it to him. "생일 축하해, 내 사랑 (Happy birthday, my love)" You whispered with a soft smile, Seung Hyun just laughed loudly as you handed him the letter, holding a finger up as he rushed to his bedroom, coming back out with a similar envelope "I swear! We have the same amazing ideas!" You giggled, covering your face as Seung Hyun handed you the letter he had written for you. "Okay, Read them at the same time? Or..?" Seung Hyun smiled softly, you thought for a moment, before moving over to the other side of the living room "Okay, now read it" You giggled opening the folded piece of paper, smiling softly at Seung Hyun's neat but also messy handwriting, it was always cute to you.

'Y/n,

Meeting you was something I never thought I would do, and yet, you walked into my life, and have taken over every thought I've had since then. You're so amazingly sweet and caring, you always know just the thing to make everybody laugh. Your personality is the most beautiful thing I've ever had the honor of experiencing; you've lightened up every dark part of my life, and I can't thank you enough. I've never felt like I was meant to be happy, or like I deserved that much time or effort from people, but just in a handful of months, you've learned a whole new language just to have deeper conversations with me, and that means everything to me and more, sweetheart. you spent almost an entire day making sure you could say 'I love you' perfectly in Korean, for me. You're absolutely breathtaking at every moment of everyday, always stunning me and leaving me speechless, anytime I see you. I've never told you, my love, but you are the most amazing woman I've ever met, the amount of love and care you have for the people you meet, is something that amazes me everyday. Your voice and laugh make my day absolutely amazing, even on my worst ones, and I find myself missing the sound of them almost every day that you're gone and busy. I also find myself falling in love with you, every time I have the honor of speaking with you, Y/n, and I don't know how much longer I can keep it a secret, I want to tell everybody I know and meet how amazing you are. How absolutely thoughtful and selfless you are, and how amazing you make me feel. I love you, Y/n, every single thing about you, I promised that you'd be loved and accepted for yourself before I left to come back home, and little did I know, I'd be the one to fall in love with you.

Yours truly, with all of my love,

Choi Seung Hyun

'Seung Hyun,

I'm not sure how to thank you for everything, you're my saving grace, you found me in a really dark part in life, where I was debating on giving up music as a whole. I was giving up on trying to show the world who I was really was, until you came around. I've always fought my entire life for people to see me as anything other than a 'sexy body' and I didn't even need to try with you, you saw through everything, and I never had anybody do that. Nobody's taken the time to want to talk with me unless it had something in favor of them..but you always seem so excited and happy to talk with me, and the most we've done was flirt together. Seung Hyun, even if you fight me every time I try to tell you, you are a good, amazing, handsome, work of art of a man. You've been through a lot from the stories you've told me, and the fact you're still just as amazing as you are, makes me so proud to call you my best friend. In just the months I've known you, you've changed my life and mind for the better, you've single-handedly showed me I'm so much more than just a voice and body. I used to hate myself, a lot, everybody around me always putting it in my head that I'm stupid, or useless for anything other than performing, that if I don't dress a certain way, I'll be hated; You've changed that though, you helped me see that I'm capable of so much more than people say, that I can be loved and beautiful just the same in either a performance outfit, or my sweatpants and hoodie. You helped me start to love myself again, and it's started making me fall in love with you as well, everything about you makes my life feel so much lighter and happier, like nothing stressful or scary can ever get me whenever I'm around you, I feel safe, loved, and seen, and I have fallen so far in love with you for that, Seung Hyun.

Your favorite American <3

Y/n

As you both finished reading your letters, your gaze met Seung Hyun's, trying your best not to let the sob slip from your lips as you noticed the tears going down his cheeks. "Aein?.." He whispered, wiping the tears on his face the best he could, as he moved to kneel in front of you. You just let yourself cry, wrapping your arms around him tightly as you leaned down, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he tried his best to not cry again from the sounds of your sobs. "You deserve to be happy, My love" You whimpered, clenching the back of his shirt in your fists tightly, trying to calm your breathing as you spoke again "I-I love you, you're so, so sweet to me" You added on, squeezing him tightly before he pulled away, gently wiping the tears from your face "I love you, Aein, but please don't cry" He whispered softly, cupping your cheek as you sniffled slightly "I-I can't help it, y-your letter was really sweet" You whimpered, leaning into his touch as you managed to stop crying after a moment "Thank you...I wrote it the night you said 당신을 사랑해요, 여보 (I love you, honey)" He whispered, caressing your cheek gently with the pad of his thumb, you just blushed softly, hiding your face in your hands as he stood up, moving to sit next to you. "I'm glad I wasn't the only one then, because I wrote that whenever I was learning how to say it" You admitted giggling sheepishly, resting your head on his shoulder as you interlaced your fingers with his. "I meant what I wrote, Y/n..I'm in love with you" He whispered softly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead "I know...나도 당신과 사랑에 빠졌어요. (I'm in love with you, too)" You whispered, looking up to meet his gaze smiling softly, blushing whenever you felt his lips connect with yours, Seung Hyun couldn't help it, he wasn't going to lie, whenever you spoke in Korean to him, it made him proud, you had learned that, for him, plus it was pretty hot. As he moved his lips against yours, he couldn't help but smile, slowly pulling away to meet your gaze "You're so amazing" You whispered, panting softly as you tried to catch your breath, Seung Hyun chuckling as he pulled you close to him before leaning back, causing you to fall, laying on his chest. You both laid in silence for a bit, just enjoying the feeling of being around each other again, before you giggled softly "Hey, Seung Hyun?.." You giggled out, smiling as he glanced down at you, through the strands of his hair that had fallen in his face "Hmm?" He hummed softly, running his fingers up and down your back as he waited for a response "Happy birthday..." You whispered, smiling as he chuckled softly "Thank you, Aein, one of the best birthdays I've ever had" He replied, his voice slightly deeper as he started to feel himself growing tired, you just smiled, laying head on his chest again as you rested your hand on the side of his neck, yawning. "I'm happy then" You whispered, taking a deep breath as you felt yourself starting to doze, letting yourself be overtaken by sleep as you held onto Seung Hyun tightly, not wanting to risk this all being a dream.

What do you think, lovelies?! Let me know what you think!! As always, I'm so excited to hear back from you all!! <333

Also! If I got any translations wrong, please let me know! I'm very rusty with Korean, but I am trying to learn! <33

Taglist!!

@onyxmango

@ag02212023

@acehasmyheart

@mitchko11

@learninglinesintherainn

@seunghyunwifey

@alexandralibbre

@jajabro

@heartsforseo

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@seunghyunwifey

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@skzdreamz

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@sunhyeswife

@ilovethe141

@saraaisfree

@sassyyoyo

@i-might-be-vanny

@cheese10001

@live-laugh-lovef1

@c1delight

#squid game thanos #thanos x reader #top x reader #choi su bong x reader #squid game #squidgame #thanos squid game #t.o.p #choi seunghyun #t.o.p x reader #t.o.p icons #t.o.p bigbang #top #bigbang #choi seung hyun x reader

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wendysimp · 2 hours ago

Text

Secrets Out! Ep.2 (Leaked?)

Karina X Male Reader (Slight appearance by Aespa)

Tags: TitFucking, Ball sucking, Deepthroat, Spitting, Teasing, Videotaping, Quickie

~~ Be Sure to read Episode 1 here!

(3rd Person POV)

~ In the girls locker room

“You’re lying. That guy is a total loser.”

“Yeah, and a dick that big? It just doesn’t sound real.”

“I-I think he’s really cute.”

“Of course you think that Ning. But I’m serious! He just fucked Seulgi unnie and Wendy unnie in the backseat of the car!”

“His own step sister?!” The three of the girls were in complete shock with what they just heard.

A moment earlier before their chat, Karina drags her friends into the locker room to tell them about what she had just discovered in the parking lot. You, Seulgi and your own step sister Wendy having a threesome in the backseat.

“Yes! His own step sister!” Karina pulls out her phone. “Here look at this!”

She taps the play button, letting the video play for the girls to watch. Their eyes widened as they watch Wendy riding your cock while Seulgi rides your face.

“H-He’s actually fucking her.” Giselle spoke.

“Seulgi unnie is riding his face.” Winter followed up.

“Y/n’s… big cock.” Ning bites her lip making the girls look at her.

“Ning!” They all say, but she didn’t care and grabs the phone, skipping ahead of the video till it showed Wendy and Seulgi giving you a sloppy blowjob while recording themselves.

“Look! S-Such a big… fat… cock.” They all look back at the video, this time they put their focus on your dick.

The length, the thickness. They start to feel hungry. Hungry for your cock as they keep on watching. Karina starts to feel her panties getting soaked once again.

“F-Fuck! Again?” She bites her lip and looks down. The girls look at her and laugh.

“You’re getting wet huh?” Giselle teased.

“N-no! Shut up!” She defended herself but couldn’t hold back the blush.

“It’s okay if you are,” Winter chuckles softly. “I am too, I can’t lie.”

“Eww!” Giselle scoffed. “Let’s head back to class.” She grabs her bag as Winter and NingNing follow.

“I’ll be with you guys in a bit… I need to find Y/n and have a taste of him myself.” Karina whispered the last part to herself. They nodded and head to class.

Meanwhile, Karina was searching through the halls and all over the school, trying not to get caught to look for you but had no luck.

“Where could he be?” She thinks but then had an idea of where you could be. “Got it! The library! That nerd usually goes there at this time to do work.”

She quickly makes her way to the library, searching every section then finally spots you in the corner. She smirks wildly, knowing this was gonna be a perfect time. She walks up to you, taps your shoulder which makes you slowly turn your head.

“Hey nerd.” She says trying not to draw attention with the people around by staying as quiet as possible.

You sighed. “What do you want Karina? I’m busy doing my work.”

She sits next to you. “Well that can wait. I need to speak to you about something.”

“Get it over with already. I don’t like to be disturbed.” You put your attention back to your school work.

“Geez, calm down nerd. Look, I’m not gonna waste time here so let me just ask you something.” She looks at you. Thoughts of the video running through her mind.

“I’m not gonna do your homework for you.”

“It’s not about that idiot! It’s about something else.” She hits your arm.

“First off, ouch! And second, what could you possibly need from me?” You were curious. She would usually approach you about doing her homework or try to annoy you.

“It’s just a simple request.” She smirked which kinda creeped you out a little.

“Okay? What’s up?” You asked while she leans closer, your heart starts pounding. Is she about to kiss you?

“Can I maybe see… your cock?” She whispered. You froze up after her sudden request, the pen in your hand drops straight down to the floor.

“M-My what now?” You gulped. Did you hear correctly?

“Come on Y/n, you heard me.” She whispered more in a seductive tone while placing a hand on your thigh. She’s crazy you thought to yourself.

“N-No, are you crazy! I’m not showing you my stuff, that shit is weird!” You say trying not to be so loud.

“Oh that’s weird?” She smirks and takes her phone out. “Is it more weird that you fuck your own step sister.” She shows the video of you and your stomach drops.

“H-How did you get… delete that!” You try to take her phone but you were too slow. She giggled and teased you some more.

“Nope! You either show me your cock… or I will leak this video out and people will see how weird YOU really are.” She threatened.

This is fucked! You couldn’t figure out what to do. You can’t have that video getting leaked!

“Okay fine.” Those words make Karina’s smirk grow even bigger. This girl is crazy! I mean… she’s kinda hot but that’s not the point.

“That wasn’t so hard was it?” She teased you more.

“Shut up and let’s get this over with.” You get up, looking around, making sure no one’s around. “We gotta be quiet and be careful.” You whispered.

You undo your belt while Karina watches, biting her lip as she couldn’t wait for the grand reveal. You bring your hands down to the waistband of your pants, then slowly pull them down until…

*Slap*

Your dick sprung out, landing right on her face. She gasped at the size of your cock as it rests across her face.

“Oh… m-my… fucking… god.” You can feel her breath just between your balls and under your shaft sending shivers down your spine.

The scene was kinda hot. Actually, really hot! She grabs onto your dick, slowly stroking it while she was still amazed by the length and the feel.

“I-I thought you just wanted to see only.” You groan as you grip the table.

“You like this don’t you?” She completely ignored your words.

“Y-Yes.” You didn’t want to give in. But man it was so damn hard.

“I can see why even your step sister would fuck you. She’s very lucky I should say.” She giggled as she keeps stroking you before planting a kiss on your tip which was enough to make your knees weak.

“F-Fuck Karina!” You moan quietly, leaning your head back.”

Without any warning, she puts your cock into her mouth. Her soft moans vibrate around your shaft while your body tenses up. She takes you inch by inch trying to get use to your size.

“Mmm… so… big.” She slurped then pulls away. She spits onto your cock and strokes you making sure you’re completely soaked. “You like that nerd?”

At this point you couldn’t take it. You tangled your fingers in her hair and push her back down on your cock, making her bob up and down your wet cock.

“Just shut up and keep sucking bitch.” You groan as you make her deepthroat your dick, causing her to gag a little.

Instead of resisting, she let you do it. It was almost like she was allowing you to do that. Her saliva mixed with your pre cum drip down towards your balls. You pull her off your dick as you griped onto her hair.

“You fucking nerd,” She tries to catch her breath as she looks up at you. “Making me choke on your big, fat cock.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it.” You smirked as you smack your dick against her cheeks.

“I didn’t like it… I fucking loved it!” She sticks her tongue out and grabs your hard shaft to slap your tip onto it.

You groan out in pleasure as you watch her go down and suck on your balls while your cock is resting across her face.

“F-Fuck yes suck those balls.” Your eyes trail down and you bite your lip.

She pulls away. “Looking at my tits huh?” She looks down then back up at you. “You fucking perv. You think about my tits don’t you?”

“I would be lying if I said no.” Karina rolled her eyes.

“Mind telling me what you think about perv?” Her hands continue to stroke you.

“What your tits feel like in between my dick.” You grip her hair as she places more kisses all over your dick.

Karina was satisfied with your answer, and it only made her feel hotter. She takes her hands off your cock and moves back a little, taking off her hoodie.

“It’s only fair I show you my tits.” She pulls her pink crop top off, dropping it on the floor.

You look as your jaw drops. Her cleavage on display as her bra holds her big breasts together. Every little movement she makes, they bounce and jiggle around. You felt like you were being hypnotised.

Karina laughs as you stare for what felt like hours. “Look at you. You wanna see these tits huh?” She teased playing with the straps of her bra.

“Fuck yes.” You say almost instantly.

She takes off her bra, taking her time so she can tease and make you want more. Her big, soft tits are finally out, waiting to feel your touch.

(Y/n’s POV)

I lick my lips, reaching my hands over as I get a good grip on Karina’s tits. So fucking soft, so fucking big. She moans softly as she feels my touch.

“You like them?” She smirked, looking up at me.

“They’re amazing.” She smiles more at my answer while I keep playing with her melons. You then pull her onto your lap as you wanted to get a closer look.

“Ohh look at you,” She giggled. “Addicted already?” She teased.

“Maybe.” You dive in, rubbing your face in between her tits as she squirmed a little while holding you close.

I keep playing with her tits until she pushed me back against the chair, getting off my lap and onto her knees. She grabs onto my shaft and slaps the head against her tits.

“Mmm you like that daddy?” She looks into your eyes, turning you on with the way she addressed me.

It’s funny how Karina went from being a bitch towards me, to wanting more of my cock and calling me daddy. It just doesn’t seem real but I’m not complaining.

“I love it baby.” I grinned.

I can tell when I called her that it turned her on as she puts me between her tits and lets her spit drip down and onto my tip. She tightens the grip on my dick with her huge jugs, moving up and down slowly.

I moan softly. “Oh fuck, Karina! Your tits feel so fucking good!”

“I’m glad you like them daddy.” She winked.

I watch as my cock pops in and out between her tits before Karina sticks her tongue out, licking my tip every time she was close enough to lick it.

“Y-You’re gonna make me cum Karina!” I groan out.

“Cum for me daddy! Cum all over my tits.” She bites her lip as she was in desperate need of my cream.

She moves faster, she grips tighter while I grip the chair as I feel the sensation from her tits.

“I’m c-close baby.” I lean my head back.

I felt her reach for something and I look down as I see her phone in her hand.

“Would you mind recording? I wanna send this to my girls.” She asked with an innocent yet naughty smile.

“D-Don’t they hate me?” I grunt.

“After I send them the video, they won’t.” She hands me the phone. “Come on, please?”

Was it a good idea? What about the video she has of me, Wendy and Seulgi? I’m sure she can keep it a secret right? Ah fuck it!

“Fine.” I take the phone and start to record her cupping her tits together.

“Thank you daddy.” She smirks and moans sexily then shortly looks into the camera after waving a little. “Hey girls! His dick is so much bigger in person than on video.” She spits down on my cock again.

Did she… show them the video? Oh god. Let’s just hope nothing spreads around. I gotta be careful.

“Ahh fuck! Keep moving those big tits.” I groan.

“Mmm you like that daddy?” She breathed, moving more seductively.

“I love it baby. Keep going, you’re doing amazing.” I stroke her cheek. I guess Karina loves the way I praise her by the way she looked at me with a grin.

“I want your cream daddy!” She moves faster and faster. I was getting close, I tried to keep the phone as steady as I could but it was a little difficult.

“Y-You want it? Fucking take it!” You groan trying to stay as quiet as possible. The sound of her melons slapping against me.

I shoot my first load, making a mess all over her tits.

“O-Oh fuck! So much daddy! I-I… oh my!” Another load right across her cheek and around her mouth. “Fuck! This is the best load ever!” She smiles, gathering some of my cum from her tits before seductively sucking her fingers.

“You like the taste of daddy’s cum baby?” I smirked as I try to catch my breath. This view of Karina was fucking amazing to see.

“You taste so good daddy. I might want more.” She winks at you then looks at the camera. “Sorry girls, maybe I’ll invite you next time.” She wanted to tease them. She blows a kiss then grabs her phone.

“Soo, there’s a next time?” I bite your lip.

“Maybe.” She looks at me and grins again. She cleans herself up with some wipes she had in her bag before cleaning my cock with her mouth. “God you taste so good Y/n.” She kisses your tip.

I moan softly and smile and the both of us fix ourselves up, putting back our clothes that we had taken off.

“You’re not gonna leak the video right?” I asked.

“Mmm…” my heart was pounding. I can’t have this video get leaked. If my parents see it, they will flip out. Especially my mom! “I won’t.”

You let out a sigh. “Thank you.” I tell her and she smiles while sending the video to her friends. “You single?” You push your luck.

“No Y/n!” She glares at me. “You might have a chance though.” She moves close to me.

“Oh I’m gonna make you mine, just wait and see.” I pull her close. Both of our faces inches away.

“I like your confidence Y/n.” She looks into my eyes.

“Will you let me kiss you?” I whispered then see her face as she blushed.

“I don’t know try it.” She challenged. I lean in and kiss her deeply and passionately as I held her hips. She returned the passion back and moves her hand behind my head.

We pull away, out of breath as we were smiling like idiots. She’s really a whole fucking package.

“I guess I’ll see you around nerd.” She giggled and bites her lip softly.

I roll my eyes playfully. “Still calling me that huh? What happened to daddy?” I teased and she blushed, hitting my arm. “I’m kidding, I’ll see you around Karina.”

We both exchanged numbers and we both go our separate ways. Man I really am a lucky guy.

(3rd Person POV)

*Ding*

A girl takes out her phone during class, turning it on without alerting the teacher. She opens the link as it takes her to a video that shouldn’t be seen. She gasps quietly.

“W-What the fuck?! Is that Y/n?!”

End Of Ep.2

To be continued!

A little short but I’ll try to make them a bit longer. Hope you guys enjoyed this one. You guys can also help with this series by suggesting ideas and idols you want to see, so be free to send me a dm or inbox me!☺️

#kpop smut #kpopidol #aespa #aespa karina #aespa smut #aespa x male reader

66 notes · View notes

goblinontour · 1 day ago

Text

My Head, Your Chest

or what was supposed to be a study session

warnings: fetus!al, fluff, smut, munching, that’s it

word count: 7.6k

The notebook in your hands feels sticky. It’s only getting worse with every passing minute, and you can’t decide if it’s from the heating being turned all the way up or your growing distaste for the subject at hand. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the bonus heater lying between your legs right now — a mop of messy brown hair pressed to your stomach, radiating heat like he’s made of fire.

He’s burning up. Burning you up, too. Your brain is overheating, and it’s mostly from the endless studying you’ve been at for what feels like decades — though it’s probably only been a couple of hours at best. But it’s also from him, from his fever that flared up a couple of hours ago — or rather, restarted.

Alex got sick on Sunday, and now it’s Wednesday, and you haven’t seen him since that first day of misery. He’d stayed home, groaning into the phone about how he couldn’t come to class the next day because he was “in no state to show me face” and because he, quote, “don’t want ya to catch me death.” You’d rolled your eyes but kept your distance, though by Tuesday the missing him started to outweigh your good sense. And, apparently, his missing you did too.

By the time Wednesday rolled around, you were both excellent at lying to yourselves. It’ll be fine. It’s just a cold. What’s the worst that could happen? So here you are now, stuck in a poorly ventilated room with his feverish body sprawled across you, the sticky notebook, and a mounting pile of regret that isn’t nearly strong enough to pull you away from him.

“Yer not even lookin’ at the book anymore.” Alex mutters, his voice thick and groggy as he shifts slightly, his cheek brushing against your stomach.

You glance down at him, his face flushed from the fever and his hair damp at the edges where it clings to his forehead. He looks utterly pathetic. And completely adorable.

“You’re not exactly making it easy to concentrate.” you point out, tapping the edge of the notebook against his shoulder.

“Not me fault.” he says, tilting his head up just enough to give you a lopsided grin you can’t even see. “You’re the one who insisted on revisin’ while I’m dyin’ here.”

“You’re not dying.” you say, rolling your eyes but reaching down to brush a hand over his hair anyway. It’s warm — too warm — but the way he leans into your touch makes it impossible to pull away.

“Feels like it.” he mumbles, closing his eyes.

“You’re dramatic.” you counter, but your tone is soft, betraying you.

He hums, something low and pleased, and nuzzles closer to your stomach. “Missed ya.” he says after a moment, his voice quieter now, like the admission costs him something.

Your chest tightens, and you bite your lip to keep from smiling too wide. “Yeah.” you say, your fingers still threading through his hair. “I missed you too.”

And there it is — the real reason you’re here, risking a cold or worse. Because the ache of not seeing him was worse than the ache of a sore throat or a runny nose could ever be.

“You know,” you say after a moment, “if you’d just stayed in bed and let yourself get better, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Don’t care.” he murmurs, his words slurring slightly as his fever and exhaustion start to win out. “This is better.”

And damn it, he’s right.

“What are you studying for anyway?” He doesn’t bother lifting his head, just peeks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes. “You never told me.”

“Lit class.” you reply, flipping the page of your notebook with a sigh. You’re trying to focus, really, but the words keep swimming, your concentration slipping like sand through your fingers.

He hums, soft and lazy, and the vibration of it buzzes against your skin. “Figures. You and your books.”

There’s a warmth in his tone that makes your chest feel lighter, like maybe you’re not so annoyed at this assignment after all. Your fingers find their way into his hair again before you even realise what you’re doing, brushing through the mop of brown in slow, absentminded strokes. It’s soft, even though he hasn’t bothered washing it properly since he got sick, and the motion is soothing — more for you than him, probably.

You feel his weight shifting as he turns his head. Before you even lower the notebook, you know what sight is waiting for you, and when you do — oh, there they are: two wide, ridiculously gorgeous puppy eyes staring up at you, full of a kind of innocence and curiosity that makes your heart ache. He blinks at you and, for a moment, you think you might melt into the mattress entirely. You’d keep him in your pocket if you could, tucked safely away where no one else could see him.

“Literature, huh?” he asks, his voice soft and scratchy but tinged with amusement.

“Yep.” you say, struggling to keep your focus on the…the…the notebook, right. But your gaze keeps drifting back to him, to the way his nose is scrunching up slightly, to the faint pinkness in his cheeks — whether from fever or you at this point, you can’t tell, but you really want it to be the latter.

“You could help me, you know.” you blurt out before you can think better of it. “If you want this to go faster.”

His brow furrows slightly, and he blinks again, slower this time. “Help?”

“Yeah.” you say, gesturing vaguely at the notebook with your free hand. “I haven’t got a poet in my bed for nothing, you know.”

He snorts, his nose wrinkling even further. “I’m no poet.” he mutters, his voice soft and sheepish.

His pupils are blown wide now, and the faint flush on his face deepens. You can’t help but grin, biting your lip to keep from teasing him too much. He looks unbearably cute, so cute, all flustered and disheveled, and it takes everything in you not to lean down and kiss him right then and there. You want to bottle the image up and keep it forever.

“Anyway.” he says quickly, his voice rising just slightly,

There’s a pause, with a sniffle that’s only half-real.

“I don’t wanna rush you.”

Twice.

“Not much else we could do with the state I’m in anyway.”

The third one is loud and deliberate, as if to seal his point, followed by a tiny, self-satisfied smirk that he’s trying — and failing — not to show.

You narrow your eyes at him, your lips twitching as you fight back a laugh. “Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?”

He just grins wider, and you shake your head, lowering the notebook to your chest, gently pressing it there with an exaggerated sigh.

“Okay.” you say. “Goodbye, Mr. Poet.” you tease, and you’re smiling fully now as you try to bring the notebook back up, but two of his fingers reach up before you can and stop you.

He blinks at you, his grin faltering for a second, confused. “Goodbye?”

“Yep.” Your hand turns out to be stronger than two little digits, so you raise the notebook, blocking his face from view, but not before you catch the faintest hint of pink creeping up his neck.

“Don’t be mean.” he grumbles.

You smile to yourself, hiding it behind the barrier. You don’t need to see him to know he’s smiling too.

He’s smiling, smiling, smiling like a fool, staring up at the ceiling lamp that hums and flickers faintly with the effort of staying on. But it’s not the dusty lightbulb above him that he sees. No, he’s not really seeing that. It’s you. His mind is too full of you. That image of you from ten seconds ago — your fingers still buried in his hair, your face tilted down, concentration etched into your features as you tried to make sense of whatever nonsense your notebook held — is branded behind his eyelids. Burned into his brain. A picture he doesn’t want to blink away. It’s like you didn’t even realise how tender you were being.

She’s so pretty when she’s reading. And sleeping. And laughing.

You’re all he can think about. The way your nose crinkles when you tease him, the way your eyes soften when you think he’s not looking. She’s so pretty when…he thinks, the words tumbling through his head like a mantra.

He feels his smile curve wider, his dry, cracked lips stinging at the corners — a small price to pay for the way his chest feels so light. His nose feels raw with each breath, like he’s inhaling sandpaper, and his throat is sore from the constant sniffles, but he doesn’t care. None of it matters, because you’re here, and he’s nestled between your thighs, and your hand is in his hair like you’ve forgotten it’s even there. The discomfort barely registers because his mind is stuck on one simple truth: She’s pretty all the time.

The heat of your body pressed against his is its own kind of medicine, in a way. You feel like the most perfect pillow to ever exist, your legs warm on either side of him like a blanket, the faint press of your hand against his scalp like the softest lullaby. His chest rises and falls slowly, the fever haze making him feel floaty, untethered — but then there’s you, keeping him right where he wants to be.

If he could breathe properly, he thinks he’d let you smother him between your thighs if you asked. Hell, he might let you do it anyway. Nothing left to lose, right? Not when he’s already in your hands. Not that he’d tell you that, not out loud. He doesn’t even want to move. Not now, not ever. You’re soft, even where the curve of your thigh meets his jaw. He could stay here forever. He wants to stay here forever. You could tell him to stay right in that spot, and he’d agree in a heartbeat, all grins and lazy nods and whispered okay, yeah, whatever you want, babe.

He sighs, his smile lingering as his eyes flutter shut. But even in the darkness, you’re still there. You’re everywhere.

And then, without warning, he lets out a soft huff of laughter, his chest barely rising with the effort.

You glance down at him, raising an eyebrow. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing.” he rasps, his voice low and scratchy, but the corners of his mouth twitch like he’s holding back another laugh, his nose scrunching up in that way you love.

“Nothing?” you press, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, nothing.” He sniffles, then lets out another laugh, his shoulders shaking slightly. “Just…you. Us. This.”

You roll your eyes, half-hearted. “You’re delirious.”

“Probably.” he agrees, his grin widening.

Your fingers, warm and gentle, return to his hair, and he practically melts into you, his smile softening into something quieter. His body goes slack, the tension in his muscles easing as you comb through the messy mop of brown strands. He hums softly, a low, contented sound that makes you feel like you must be doing something right.

“You’re such a sap.” you tease, but your voice is just as soft as your touch.

“And you love it.” he murmurs, his words slurring slightly.

You can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. “Damn it. You’re right.”

“Always am.”

And then he smiles again, bigger this time, like he’s remembering something wonderful.

“What now?” you ask.

“Nothing.” His voice is soft, almost dreamy. “You’re pretty. And warm. And I don’t wanna move.”

Your chest tightens, and you can’t help but smile down at him, even though he can’t see it.

“That’s fine.” you whisper. “You don’t have to.”

You’re trying — really trying — to stay focused on the open notebook in front of you. The lines blur slightly, not from the light or your eyesight but because your brain keeps wandering to the boy sprawled between your legs. Your fingers trace over a sentence you’ve read at least five times now, pretending you’re annotating something important, but it’s mostly to stop your hand from drifting back into his hair.

Your pen’s been bouncing against the page for the last five minutes, aimlessly doodling in the margins, and he’s been watching the rhythmic movement with a narrowed gaze. You’re doing your best to ignore him, trying to cling to whatever shred of productivity you can muster, but it’s a losing battle.

He’s making it impossible to concentrate.

“Y’know,” he says, voice muffled against your stomach, “you don’t have to keep pretending. We both know you’ve read the same sentence like, twenty times.”

“I’m not pretending.” you argue, though the half-smile pulling at your lips betrays you.

“You’re doodling stars.” he points out, glancing up and tilting his head like he’s caught you red-handed. “And...what is that? A smiley face?”

“It’s a sun.” you correct, but it doesn’t help your case.

He snickers. “Right. Big, happy sun. Sure. Sooo educational.”

“Some of us care about passing, Alex.”

“Some of us also care about not wasting time when we could be doing something way more fun.” he shoots back, raising a brow as if to challenge you.

You roll your eyes, forcing yourself to look back at the book. “Just let me finish, okay?”

He lets out a sigh and he melts further into you, turning his head so his cheek rests on your stomach. You can feel the faint tickle of his breath through your shirt.

When you don’t respond, he sighs again, louder this time.

“What?”

“Noooothing.” he says, drawing the word out, his tone soft and a little too innocent. “But…you’ve been reading forever. And I’m bored.”

“I told you I have to finish this.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waves a hand lazily in the air, like the excuse is flimsy and totally not worth acknowledging, but he at least has to pretend. “But you’ve gotta be done soon, right? What’s it been? Like, three hours?”

“Try twenty minutes.”

“Feels like three hours.” he mutters under his breath, dragging his cheek against your leg as if to emphasize the unbearable weight of time. “How much longer?” he whines.

“Not much.” you reply.

He’s purposefully pressing himself closer, as though to remind you of his presence. His fingers start drawing lazy shapes against your thigh, tracing little circles and stars that feel like they’re burning into your skin.

He’s still shifting, still fidgeting, until finally-

“Can you finish already?” His patience naps, and the next second he’s reaching out to pinch your left thigh just hard enough to make you yelp and jump.

“Hey!” you exclaim, startled, and with the motion, his head tumbles off its happy place and lands unceremoniously on the mattress. “That hurt, Al!” you laugh, rubbing the spot where his fingers dug in.

“Sorry.” he says, though the way his lips twitch tells you he’s not sorry at all. “Now come back ‘ere.”

“Fine,” you mutter, mock-annoyed, even as your hands instinctively find their way to his hair again and the word is more soaked with affection than you intend. You don’t bother picking the notebook back up — there’s no point. He’s already won.

He doesn’t say anything outright, doesn’t directly ask you to drop the studying altogether, but the way his hand reaches out, fingers brushing the back of your knee, says enough. It’s magnetic, the pull of him. And somehow, your hand decides it prefers the feel of sliding the notebook to the side, tucking it beneath the pillow, out of sight. Out of mind. Because the better sight — the prettier sight — is right here in front of you, and you’d much rather look at that.

It’s hard to care about literature or studying or anything else when he’s looking at you like that, all soft and sleepy.

“Happy now?” you whisper, and Alex’s grin widens.

“Hi.” he whispers, small and soft and gentle. Your little secret.

You can’t help but smile back. “Hi.”

And just like that, it’s happening again. That thing where a single sound from his mouth manages to send little needles shooting across your skin, a rush of pinpricks so intense it’s almost unbearable. It’s like your body’s betraying you, begging for more of him, for another word, another breath, another touch.

It’s dramatic, you know it is. Borderline ridiculous. But the worst part is, you can’t stop yourself. You need him to speak again, need it more than you need air, because if he doesn’t, you’re certain the whole world — not just your world, but the whole thing — will shatter.

And it’s terrifying, the way you’ve given him this power, handed it over so willingly. He’s just one person. One little man with messy brown hair and sleepy eyes and a smile that could probably melt steel. He shouldn’t have the ability to do this to you, to make you feel like he’s holding the universe in the palm of his hand.

But he does.

Because he’s him. And he’s him in your world, too.

“What?” he asks as he studies your face.

“Nothing.” you say, shaking your head. Your voice wavers just enough to betray you.

“Don’t look like nothing. You’re lookin’ at me funny.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not!” you insist, but you’re smiling now, and now he definitely knows he’s won.

“Yeah, you are.” he teases, and his hand finds your thigh again, but this time it’s soft, his thumb brushing lazy circles into your skin. “What’re you thinkin’ about?”

You hesitate, biting your lip as you look at him. His eyes are wide, and so warm you think you could fall into them and never come back.

“Just you.” you admit finally, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world worth looking at right now. Then he leans up, his hand slipping from your thigh to your waist as he climbs up and presses his forehead to yours.

“You’re too good to me.” he murmurs, his breath warm against your lips.

You shake your head, a soft laugh escaping you. “I think you’ve got that backwards.”

“Maybe.” he says, smiling again. “But I’m still gonna keep you. Or do me best to.”

The needles are back, prickling every inch of your skin. You don’t fight them anymore because you’re not sure you’ve ever been happier to fall apart.

“Kiss me.” you say, no hesitation, no second-guessing. The words fall out of your mouth like they belong there, because they do. It’s not a question or a request, it’s a need.

A simple fact. An urgent one.

You’re not shy about it anymore, not nervous like you were the first few times. It’s the only thing on your mind, the only thing that’s been on your mind since the last time he kissed you. That was Sunday. Sunday. Three whole days too long without his lips on yours, without the weight of him pressed against you in the way only he can manage — clumsy. But perfect.

And now you’re so close. He’s tilting his head, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a soft smile as he leans in. His face is redder than usual, his nose runny and chapped from all the tissues, and his eyelashes are clumped together from the fever sweat he refuses to admit is still lingering. But he’s close now, so close you can feel the ghost of his breath brushing your lips, and you’re already bracing for the warm, electric touch of him.

So close.

Almost there-

“Achoo!”

The sneeze comes out of nowhere, loud and violent, and though it’s not directly in your face — it’s to the side, thank God — it echoes in your ears and leaves a faint ringing behind.

Your lips feel colder now, colder than they have in days, and still untouched.

“Bless you.” you whisper, trying not to laugh.

He’s already resigned back to defeat. You can tell by the way he slumps against you, his body going boneless as his head drops onto your shoulder. His face presses somewhere between your neck and the pillow. His breath is still uneven from the sneeze.

“Sorry.” he mutters.

You really want to laugh, but instead, your heart twists a little. He’s so pitiful like this, all sniffly and congested, his hair sticking to his forehead and his body too warm where it’s draped over yours. And worse than that, you can feel it — the way he’s trying to burrow into you, his nose nuzzling the crook of your neck like it always does, only to stop.

He can’t even smell you.

His nose is too backed up, and he can’t even get a whiff of his favorite spot, that little patch of you where your perfume blends with your shampoo, where the natural scent of you is so strong it’s intoxicating. It’s his weakness, his favorite thing, and you know it drives him mad every time.

Now, though, it’s like it’s just out of reach.

“God, this sucks.” he groans, and the whine in his voice is almost enough to make you coo. “I can’t even smell you. Can’t kiss you. Can’t- ugh, I hate this.”

“You’ll be fine.” you say softly, trying to soothe him.

“No, I won’t.” he argues, his words muffled against your neck. “This is the worst day of my life.”

“It’s just a cold, Al.”

“It’s your cold now.” he counters, tilting his head to squint up at you. “’Cause I definitely gave it to you. So, really, I’ve ruined both our lives.”

“Our cold.” you correct.

“Mhm, yes, that’s more accurate.” he drawls, stretching out the syllables like he’s some sort of scholar, emphasising each one in a way that could almost be annoying.

It works, though, because it puts another smile on your face, and he can’t get enough of that. Not now, not ever.

He shifts against you, sliding around on you like a slippery eel in a way that feels both deliberate and entirely uncoordinated. He doesn’t know if it’s because his body feels like it’s made of jello or if he’s actually becoming jello, but either way, after much unnecessary wriggling, his journey ends with his face planted squarely between your boobs.

Even his fever-ridden brain knows this is some kind of holy grail situation. He feels like Eve, staring at the apple. Too tempting. Too perfect. For a second, he’s completely still, like even his brain can’t comprehend the jackpot he’s just stumbled into. His breathing slows, and you swear you can almost see the little wheels turning behind his eyes.

“Alex…” you warn softly, but he doesn’t budge.

“Hmm?” he hums, his lips pressed to your shirt. He doesn’t even bother to lift his head, doesn’t even try to look apologetic. He inhales — or tries to, because his stuffy nose makes a pitiful little whistling sound — and then, without any further hesitation, he pulls himself closer.

“Al.” you try again, but it’s too late.

He gives in.

He’s already gone.

It starts with the softest little nuzzle, his nose brushing lazily against the fabric of your shirt, followed by a soft, open-mouthed kiss that sends goosebumps racing down your arms. Then, before you can say anything else, he takes it a step further, his teeth grazing you ever so lightly.

“Ow!” you exclaim, though it doesn’t actually hurt. It’s more surprising than anything, but the sound only seems to encourage him.

“Oh, really?” he murmurs, and then he does it again, this time with a little more bite, sinking his teeth in just enough to make you squirm.

“Alex!”

“I’m bored.” he says. He thinks that’s a perfectly valid excuse for whatever he’s doing.

“So you’re taking it out on me?”

“Mhm.”

And just to drive the point home, his right hand joins the party. It lands on your other boob, the one he hasn’t nibbled yet, and he gives it a squeeze like he’s trying to test its density…or something.

“Alex, do you mind?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He looks up at you with those big, brown eyes, feigning innocence even as his fingers curl a little tighter around you. “What? I’m just…conducting an experiment.”

“An experiment?” you repeat, deadpan.

“Yeah.” he says, his grin widening. “It’s, uh, for science.”

“For science?”

“Exactly.”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t stop him, and he knows it. He knows it because his grin turns softer, and his fingers give an extra little squeeze like he’s thanking you silently.

“So now you’re a scientist and a poet?” you tease, trying to maintain some semblance of authority.

“Multitalented.” he replies with a shrug, before nuzzling back into your chest.

His fingers stay where they are, squeezing and testing and exploring, warm and curious and just shy of being inappropriate, and you know you should probably tell him to stop. But you don’t. Because you’re pretty sure you’d miss it if he did.

“You’re comfy.”

“You’re heavy.”

He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest, and for a moment, everything feels perfect. Warm and lazy and messy in all the right ways. And if his hand tightens around you just a little more? Well, you’re not about to complain.

“My head hurts.” he announces to the room like a royal decree. It’s meant for you, but maybe it’s also for the plushie sitting precariously on the edge of your desk, or the birds that might be outside, perched on the tree branches and peering in like nosy neighbors.

“I don’t know…” you start, dragging the words out.

He squints. “What?”

“I always thought your head felt pretty good.”

The room freezes.

He gasps, the kind of exaggerated, cartoonish gasp that would make anyone else laugh, but the widening of his eyes and the way his ears turn red makes it clear it’s at least half genuine. “You dirty girl.” he says, scandalized, but with a grin that betrays him.

You raise your hand, palm open and waiting.

It takes him a second to catch on — he always takes a second — but when he does, he grins even wider, and his hand meets yours with a weak high five. It’s soft, almost an afterthought, but then his fingers linger, catching yours on the way down and sliding them between his, intertwining them. It’s second nature.

It’s quiet.

And then he says it.

“Want me to give you head?”

You blink.

Now you’re the one going red. You weren’t trying to be dirty, not really. Or maybe you were, but not like that. Not like this. But here he is, taking your playful little jab and running with it, all the way into the realm of no return.

Your hands fly up to your face like a shield. “Oh my god.” you mumble, voice muffled behind your fingers.

He shifts, sitting up slightly so he can peer at you better, his smirk growing as he watches you squirm. “If you wanted me to eat your cunt,” he says, far too casually for the words coming out of his mouth, “you could’ve just said so.”

You groan, sinking further into your hands, like maybe you can disappear into them if you try hard enough. “Oh my god.” you repeat, because what else is there to say?

“Asking’s free.” he presses, leaning closer now, his voice dropping just a little, just enough to make your stomach flip. “Do you?”

You hesitate. Not because you don’t want it, but because you do want it, and the fact that you do makes your skin burn.

“Yeah.” you whisper, so quiet you’re not sure he even hears it.

Of course he does.

“Alright.”

And suddenly, his hands are on your thighs, warm and steady, and he’s smiling at you in that way that makes you feel like the whole world has shrunk down to just the two of you. His feverish warmth is radiating off of him, and it’s like you can feel his heartbeat through his palms.

He leans in, his nose brushing against your arm as he nuzzles closer, and you can’t help but shiver, your hands still half-hiding your face.

“Don’t be shy now.” he teases, his voice low and rough. “You started this, remember?”

“Okay. Okay.” You exhale deeply, as if the sound itself can steady your nerves. You’re psyching yourself up, trying to convince yourself that this is fine, that this is normal. It’s not like you haven’t done this before. It’s also not like it doesn’t make you nervous every single time.

“Mm.” he hums. He’s looking at you, not touching yet, just…looking. His eyes are heavy-lidded but sharp, scanning every detail, and it’s enough to make your skin tingle.

Then his hand reaches out to find the waistband of your leggings, pinching the fabric lightly between two fingers before letting it snap back against your skin with a soft, harmless pop.

“We’ll take this off, I think.” he murmurs.

“You think?” you ask.

With his fingers already hooked in the band, he tilts his head and smirks. “Yeah.” he says, nodding slightly. “I think so.” He pauses, though, his hands stilling for just a moment. “Is that okay?”

You nod, your fingers brushing over his as you whisper, “Yeah. That’s okay.”

“Alright.” he says, more to himself than to you.

He pulls, inching the leggings down your hips, over your thighs, and you can feel every soft graze of his knuckles against your skin as he works them down. His eyes follow the path of the fabric, drinking in every inch of skin that’s revealed, and you can feel the heat of his gaze as much as you feel the cool air brushing over you.

“You’re teasing me.” you accuse, a little breathless.

“Am I? Maybe. Can you blame me?”

You roll your eyes, but it doesn’t do much to hide the flush creeping up your neck.

He tugs the leggings all the way off, letting them drop to the floor in a heap before his hands find your thighs again. He doesn’t rush. He doesn’t need to. The way he’s looking at you makes your whole body buzz with warmth.

“You’re so-” He stops himself, biting back the words with a small shake of his head, like even saying them out loud would be too much for him.

“So what?” you ask.

His hands tighten just slightly and he lets out a breathy laugh. “Just. You.” He shrugs, his grin turning sheepish. “You’re so you.”

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say, and yet it makes your heart flutter like crazy.

“So perfect.” he whispers, and the sincerity in his voice makes your chest ache.

His fingers keep their steady rhythm, tapping lightly on your inner thighs, playing a melody only he knows. It’s calming and maddening all at once, especially when he leans down, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. It’s barely a kiss, more of a whisper of warmth, but it’s enough to send a shiver rippling through you.

Then another. And another.

Trailing higher and higher.

Each kiss is unhurried, as if he’s got all the time in the world, as if this moment deserves its own pace, one that matches the quiet intimacy building between you. His lips linger longer with each press, warm and slightly chapped, and when his nose brushes against your skin, you can’t stop the little gasp that escapes you.

“Okay?” he asks softly, his voice tinged with just a hint of nervousness.

You nod, feeling your throat tighten as his thumbs press just a bit more firmly into your thighs, holding you open. “Yeah.”

His lips curve into a faint smile. He doesn’t say anything. He just tilts his head and kisses higher, closer, each touch of his mouth a little bolder. And when he stops for a second, you see him wet his lips with a quick flick of his tongue before diving back in.

You’re sure it’s an unconscious move, but it makes something hot twist in your belly.

His hands are still on your thighs, fingers tracing slow, aimless patterns, and then he hooks them on the sides of your underwear. He hesitates, looking up at you again, his brows slightly furrowed in an almost boyish way.

“Can I?” he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes.”

He tugs gently. The process is far from seamless. The fabric catches on his fingers, then again around your knees, and he fumbles with it, muttering under his breath.

“Damn things are stubborn.” he grumbles, and you bite back a laugh. “Sorry.” he says before finally managing to slide them all the way off. He holds them in his hand for a moment like he’s not quite sure what to do with them before tossing them aside with a sheepish grin.

“So smooth.”

“Hey, I got there in the end, didn’t I?”

“A little clumsy.” you tease.

“Yeah, well…” He trails off as his gaze lowers, and the words seem to leave him altogether.

He’s staring, openly, unabashedly, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, and you can see the exact moment it hits him. That oh my god, I’m the luckiest guy in the world look that makes your cheeks burn and your heart stutter. His tongue darts out again, wetting his lips like he’s preparing to say something. He doesn’t. He just looks.

“Alex.” you murmur, your voice trembling just a little.

He blinks, as if snapping out of a trance, and shakes his head. “Sorry.” he says. He doesn’t stop looking. “It’s just…you’re so…”

His voice trails off, and you think for a second that he won’t finish the sentence. But then he does, in a voice so soft you almost don’t catch it.

“You’re so beautiful.”

The words tumble out of him like they can’t be helped, and they land so softly, so tenderly, that you feel them wrap around your chest like a warm blanket. It hits you square in the chest, the way he says it, like he’s not just describing how you look but how you are.

“Am I doing okay so far?” he asks, his lips twitching into a teasing grin.

You laugh, though it’s shaky. “Yeah. You’re doing fine.”

“Fine?” he echoes, raising an eyebrow. “I’m aiming for better than fine.”

You shake your head, unable to stop smiling. “You’re doing perfectly.” you admit, and his grin widens.

“Good.”

His gaze dips again, and he licks his lips one more time before lowering himself closer. His breath brushes over you and when his lips meet your skin again you can’t stop the shiver that runs through you.

He doesn’t miss it.

“You’re shaking.” he murmurs, glancing up at you with a look that’s equal parts concern and smugness.

“I’m fine.” you manage, but your voice wavers, and he smirks.

“Perfect, huh?” he teases, echoing your earlier words.

You don’t answer. You can’t, not when his hands squeeze your thighs again and his lips are so close, so maddeningly close, that you feel like you might burst from the anticipation.

And then he whispers, so softly it’s almost like he’s talking to himself, “God, I’m so fucking lucky.”

His mouth presses against you, and the first touch of his tongue is both heaven and hell. It’s soft at first, as though he’s trying to map you out, figure out what makes you tick. But it doesn’t take long for him to find his rhythm, and when he does, it’s devastating.

You don’t understand how something so simple can feel so good. It frustrates you to your core, quite literally, that you can’t wrap your head around it — how his tongue, just a part of him, can undo you so completely. It’s maddening. It’s blissful. And worst of all, you know it will eventually have to stop.

But not yet.

His tongue moves with purpose now, parting a slick, wet path that makes your legs tremble. Any softness is gone when he presses harder, sliding his tongue into you, and it’s enough to make you gasp out loud. Your hips buck, but his hands are firmer, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs to keep you in place.

You feel the press of his nose against your clit, unrelenting, as he works his mouth on you. It’s not gentle — nothing about this is gentle. It’s messy and hot and overwhelming, and you’re not sure what’s holding you together anymore.

Your hands find their way into his hair, threading through the messy strands, and you pull. Hard. His groan vibrates against you, the sound sending shockwaves through your body, and you tug again just to feel it one more time.

The room feels stuffy, the air thick with heat and the heady weight of everything happening between you. You’re panting, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and it feels like there’s not enough oxygen in the world to keep up with what he’s doing to you.

“Alex.” you gasp, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer, like a plea.

His response is a growl against you, muffled but unmistakable, and he doubles down, his tongue and lips moving with a newfound urgency.

“Fuck.” you whimper, your voice breaking as your thighs clamp around his head, but he doesn’t falter. If anything, he leans in harder, his tongue plunging deeper, and the obscene sounds of him working you over fill the room.

Your body feels like it’s on fire, and you can’t help but arch into him, chasing the sensation, chasing him. You’re not even sure when your fingers started digging into his scalp, but you feel the way he groans again, the vibration traveling straight through you.

“Please-” you choke out, though you’re not sure what you’re asking for. More? Less? A moment to catch your breath?

“Fuck.” he mutters, pulling back just enough to speak, his lips brushing against your skin. “You’re gonna rip it all out, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” you manage to say, your voice breathless and shaky.

But Alex doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let up for a second, and when his tongue flicks just right and his nose grinds against that perfect spot that makes your toes curl, your head falls back, and your vision blurs.

“Fuck, Alex…” you cry, your voice trembling, your body trembling. Everything feels wet and hot and unbearable in the best way.

You tug at his hair one last time, harder than before, and he groans like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt.

His mouth is everywhere and nowhere at once. His tongue slides deep, slow, deliberate, like he’s trying to write something inside you, but you can’t read it. You can’t think. All you know is the way his nose bumps against you every time he presses forward, and it’s like an accident he keeps having on purpose. He pulls back, just a little, and you think maybe he’s going to stop, but then he tilts his head and dives back in. It’s messy, wetter than it probably needs to be, but that only makes it better. The sound of it fills the room, fills your ears, fills your head.

“There-” you gasp.

He hums against you, the vibration sending sparks through every nerve in your body. You’re not sure if it’s a response or if he’s just satisfied with himself, but you don’t care. It feels too good to care.

His nose nudges against you again, harder this time, and your hips jerk up without permission. His fingers tighten on your thighs, holding you down, keeping you where he wants you.

“Stay still.” he murmurs, his voice muffled by you.

You don’t stay still. You can’t.

It’s too much and not enough all at once. Your thighs are trembling. You don’t know how much more you can take.

“Come on.” he murmurs against you, his breath hot and humid. “Let me have it.”

You don’t think you could stop yourself even if you wanted to. Your thighs clamp around his head, and your back arches, and everything inside you feels like it’s shattering and coming back together all at once.

His tongue keeps moving, and his hands keep holding, and when you finally come undone, it’s all his. Every last bit of it.

You’re gasping, trembling, your hands still tangled in his hair, and he’s still there, still licking, still taking everything you have to give.

“Fuck…” you whisper, your voice barely audible, and he pulls back just enough to look up at you again.

He’s grinning, his lips shiny and red, and he looks so damn proud of himself.

“Hi.” he says, his voice soft and teasing, and you can’t help but laugh, even though you’re still catching your breath.

“Hi.” you manage to say back, your voice weak but warm.

And then he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh — maybe you should let him stay there forever.

“That was quick.” His voice is soft, laced with a little shyness and something hopeful he’s trying to hide. “Was it good?”

You’re still still floating somewhere far away in the haze he’s left you in. Words are a struggle, but you manage to muster, “Yeah, yeah.” You sound as wrecked as you feel. “Good.”

He smiles. “Good.”

You don’t say anything, but your fingers curl gently into his hair, holding him there for just a second longer, as if to tell him without words: I don’t want you to move.

But he does. Slowly, his lips trace a path upward, leaving soft, fleeting kisses along your skin. Each one feels like a promise, like he’s trying to tell you something he doesn’t have the words for. When he finally reaches your face, he pauses, hovering close enough that you can feel his breath against your lips.

“Can I?” he whispers, even though he doesn’t need to.

You nod, barely moving, and that’s all he needs. He closes the space between you, his mouth soft and warm against yours.

He’s savoring it. And then you taste it — you. The faint, lingering remnants of yourself on his lips, and it makes something in you twist and melt all at once. You kiss him deeper, your hands slipping down to cup his jaw, and he sighs into it. He’s been waiting for this moment as much as you have.

It’s messy and sweet, his nose brushing against yours, his lips moving against yours like they’ve always belonged there. You pull back for a breath, but he chases you, pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth, then another to your cheek. He can’t bear to let you go.

“You taste good.” he murmurs, his voice barely audible, and the way he says it isn’t teasing — it’s awestruck, like he’s genuinely been left amazed.

You watch as he wipes his chin and mouth with the back of his hand, but then his nose scrunches, and his face freezes. “Oh no…” he mumbles, already covering half his face with one hand while the other gestures toward the nightstand. “Gimme the-”

It takes you a second to catch on, your blissed-out brain working slower than usual, but then you see where he’s pointing. “Oh! Here” you say, grabbing the tissues and passing them over.

“Thanks.” he mutters, barely getting the word out before he sneezes into a wad of crumpled white. Twice. The force of it rocks him forward, and you can’t help but laugh softly as he sniffles, wiping at his nose like a kid.

“Bless you.” you say, your voice still a little breathy.

He looks at you through watery eyes, his cheeks flushed from the sneezes or maybe from everything else. “Thanks.”

You think he’s done, but then he takes another handful of tissues and surprises you by leaning down. His movements are gentle, careful, as he wipes between your legs and up your thighs. It’s clumsy and sweet, and your heart squeezes in your chest at the sight of him being so tender.

“You don’t have to-” you start to say, but he cuts you off.

“I know.” he says, his voice soft, almost sheepish. “But I want to.”

You let him, how could you not?

Once he’s done, he gets up to toss the tissues in the trash, and you take the opportunity to tug your leggings back up, your hands working quickly before he turns back around.

When he does, he looks at you for a moment, his hair a mess and his cheeks still pink. There’s something soft in his eyes, something warm that makes you feel tight all over in the best way.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice quiet but sincere.

“Yeah.” you say, smiling up at him. “Are you?”

He grins, a little lopsided, a little tired. “Always, with you.”

Your face heats at the words, and you roll your eyes to cover it up. “Cheesy.”

“True.” he counters, plopping down next to you on the bed.

He’s close, so close, and you feel his warmth as he leans his head against your shoulder, his hair tickling your cheek. “What now?” he asks, his voice low and a little hoarse.

“Rest.” you say simply, because he looks like he needs it, and maybe you do too.

“Rest sounds good.” he agrees, his eyes already half-closed.

a/n: I feel like the smut is lowkey bad lmao. Anyway. Based on some requests I cannot find right now but someone said something about pegging sick al once and another was about tutoring and I did neither of those here but they did inspire it!

#alex turner x reader #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x you #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x oc #alex turner fluff #alex turner smut #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #fetus alex turner #smut #goblinontour

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nigtmarcz · 2 days ago

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⎯⎯ Love Me Not

hamzah x reader

based off the song love me not by ravyn lenae

summary: hamzah has been neglecting his girlfriend y/n due to his busy work schedule. y/n feels invisible and frustrated by his lack of attention.

warnings: sad???

wc: 1.9k

a/n: hello! this is my first time writing, so I’m sorry if it sucks lol. i was listening to this song and thought it would make a great plot for a story! hope you enjoy it! :3

The glow of the computer screen cast soft shadows across Hamzah’s face as he sat hunched over his desk. The air in his room was quiet except for the faint sound of his fingers tapping rhythmically on the keyboard. The newest Slushy Noobz video was almost done—just a few finishing touches before it would be uploaded for their fans who eagerly awaited their next upload.

But tonight, Hamzah wasn’t entirely focused.

His thoughts kept wandering to y/n, his girlfriend. She’d been on his mind constantly lately—more so than usual.

He hadn’t seen her much over the past few weeks. They were both content creators, each with their own projects, and while it was something they’d always been able to juggle in the past, recently it had begun to feel like the space between them was growing. She was in the living room, editing her own content, while he was buried in the latest Slushy Noobz video.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with her, but he found himself getting swept up in the grind, constantly chasing the next big upload, the next milestone for his and Martin’s podcast, Out of Character. There was always something to do, something to edit, something to record.

But now, the silence between them seemed louder than ever. They hadn’t fought—at least, not in the usual way—but something unspoken lingered. Something that neither of them had fully addressed. And it was starting to feel like a weight pressing against his chest.

He glanced at his phone. y/n had sent him a message hours ago, but he hadn’t replied. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but everything had felt off.

Her text simply read: We need to talk soon.

The simple words made his heart sink. He knew exactly what she meant. She was frustrated. And he had been too distracted to notice.

With a deep breath, he closed his laptop, pushing the editing software aside. It felt like a relief to step away, but his heart ached with the nagging thought of the distance between them. He stood up, walking into the living room where y/n sat, bathed in the soft glow of her screen.

She looked up when he entered, and for a moment, neither of them said anything.

Hamzah opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, y/n stood up, her arms crossed. She looked tired, not just physically, but emotionally. He had seen that look before—the quiet frustration that came from being overlooked, from being too far down the list of priorities.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he said, his voice quiet. “I know I’ve been distant. I’ve been caught up in work, and I didn’t realize how much it was affecting us.”

y/n gave a small, sad smile, but there was no warmth behind it. “I get it, Hamzah. You’re busy. But we haven’t really talked in weeks. I’ve been here, just waiting for you to notice, but it feels like I’m invisible.” Her voice broke on the last word, but she quickly swallowed the emotion, not wanting to show him too much.

“y/n…” Hamzah stepped forward, but she backed away slightly, a flicker of something in her eyes that he couldn’t quite understand.

“You don’t even see it, do you?” she asked softly, almost as if talking to herself. “I’m right here, all the time, and yet it feels like you’re living in another world—one where I don’t exist. Where it’s just you and the next video and the next podcast.”

He could feel the sting of her words, and he hated the way they made him feel like he was failing her.

“I don’t want you to feel that way,” Hamzah said, his voice barely a whisper now. “I don’t mean to make you feel invisible. I just… I don’t know how to slow down sometimes. There’s so much going on, and I get lost in it. But I never meant for you to feel left out.”

y/n shook her head slowly. “It’s not that you’re busy, Hamzah. I get it, I really do. It’s just that I don’t know where I fit in anymore. I’m here, and I care, but I’m starting to wonder if we’re even in the same place anymore.”

His chest tightened as the weight of her words sank in. He wasn’t sure what to say, how to fix it. He hadn’t been paying attention to what mattered most.

“I don’t need you to change everything, Hamzah,” she continued, her voice soft but firm. “I just want to matter to you. I want to be something real, not just an afterthought that comes second to everything else.”

“I do care about you,” Hamzah replied quickly, his heart racing. “I do, y/n. It’s just… it’s hard to balance it all. I don’t want to lose you.”

For a long moment, y/n stayed quiet, her gaze on the floor, her fingers lightly tapping on the edge of her laptop.

Finally, she looked up at him, her eyes heavy with a mix of pain and longing. “You say you don’t want to lose me, but you’ve been losing me slowly for weeks. I don’t know if you see it, but I miss you, Hamzah. I miss you, but I don’t need you. I miss the way we were before this whole thing took over. I miss you, come here.”

The words hit him harder than any criticism he’d received. The truth of it all hung in the air, like a silence that neither of them knew how to break.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking just a little. “I miss you, too. But I don’t know how to fix this... I don’t want to keep failing us.”

y/n closed her eyes for a moment, taking a slow breath. When she opened them again, there was something softer in her gaze, something that felt like a mixture of hope and resignation. “Maybe we just need to find our way back. I don’t know, Hamzah. But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting for you to realize I’m here.”

Her words lingered in the air like a shadow between them, a painful truth neither of them could ignore. Without another word, y/n was gone. The door clicked shut behind her, and the silence that followed was suffocating. The house felt colder now, emptier, as if her absence had seeped into the walls, leaving Hamzah alone with the weight of everything unsaid.

Hours later, as the quiet of the night settled in, Hamzah sat in front of his desk again. His video was still unfinished, but for the first time, the video felt less important than the empty space beside him. y/n was gone now, her absence heavier than any argument they could have had. The silence in the house was suffocating, and the stillness in the air made his thoughts spin.

He stared at his screen, but the words from their earlier conversation kept replaying in his mind: I miss you, but I don’t need you, Hamzah. I miss you, come here. Those words hadn’t just been a declaration of longing—they had been a quiet assertion of independence, a signal that y/n was done waiting for him to notice.

Hamzah rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of what she’d said. She didn’t need him anymore, no matter how much she still missed him. The space between them wasn’t just physical anymore; it was emotional, deep, and unspoken. He realized she had given him a choice—one he hadn’t fully understood until now.

He reached for his phone, hesitated for a moment, then typed a message to her: “I don’t know what I’m doing, but I don’t want to lose you. Can we talk tomorrow?”

He hit send and waited. The seconds dragged on, stretching into what felt like hours, but no response came.

A moment later, the familiar vibration of a reply lit up his phone. He quickly unlocked it, hoping for some kind of resolution. But when he saw her message, a heavy weight sank into his chest.

“Okay.”

The words were short, almost distant. There was no warmth, no eagerness to reconnect. Just a quiet acceptance.

They sat on opposite ends of the couch, the space between them more suffocating than any physical distance. y/n’s voice was calm, but there was a sharpness to her words that cut through the silence.

“I miss you, Hamzah,” she started, her gaze never leaving the floor. “I miss how we used to be, but I can’t keep pretending that things will go back to the way they were. I’m tired of waiting for you to notice me, for you to put me first. I need to move on, for my own sake.”

Hamzah opened his mouth, but the words stuck in his throat. He wanted to apologize, to say he could change, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. He knew that something had already shifted between them, something that couldn’t be undone with words.

y/n continued, her voice steady despite the ache in it. “I’ve tried, Hamzah. I’ve tried to make this work, but it’s like I’m invisible to you. I’m right here, and you’re always so caught up in your work. I miss you, but I don’t need you anymore.”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. The weight of them sank deep, and he realized that she wasn’t just saying goodbye—she was choosing herself. Choosing independence over the emotional attachment that had once connected them.

“I think... I think it’s time we both move forward,” y/n said, her voice quieter now, but firm. “I can’t keep waiting for something that might never come. You’re not the only one with dreams and goals, Hamzah. I’ve got my own life to live, and I can’t keep holding on to something that isn’t there anymore.”

A silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words and feelings neither of them could fully articulate. Hamzah wanted to reach out, to say anything that might change her mind, but he could see it in her eyes: she had made her decision.

She was already gone.

Later that night, after y/n had left for good, Hamzah sat alone in the empty house. The space felt colder than it had before, as if her absence had stolen the warmth from the walls. He sat in front of his desk, staring at the finished video, but all he could feel was the heavy silence that had taken her place.

The message he had sent her earlier echoed in his mind—I don’t want to lose you. But as he replayed their conversation over and over, he realized that he had already lost her. He had lost her to the space he had failed to notice, to the time he had neglected, and to the love he had taken for granted.

The realization stung more than he expected. He missed her too, more than words could say. But as much as he longed for things to be different, he couldn’t deny the truth: she was better off without him, seeking her own path, her own independence.

Hamzah leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, feeling the weight of everything she had said. He missed her. But more than that, he understood why she had to go. The ache in his chest reminded him that sometimes, love wasn’t enough to hold two people together.

And for y/n, it had been time to let go.

#hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #slushynoobz #slushy virus #hamzah x reader #hamzah imagines #hamzah x y/n #hamzah fic #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #martin and hamzah

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divab0dy · 3 days ago

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after party

patrick zweig x gn afab reader

contains: smut MDNI, awkward! pat, lowkey sub!pat, switch!reader, piv, unprotected sex, fingering, friends to fuckers, porn with very very little plot, 3kish words

authors note: this is my first upload to tumblr ever so i hope it all goes well and please give me advice of i actually suck or something

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you were at some dinner for some tennis thing. you had no idea honestly. just tipsy enough to not be paying attention to anything else around you. pat had invited you the night before, not having the capacity to remember even the important stuff.

someone had gotten some award for something at some tennis match, and you weren't sure that pat and art would be able to fill in the details for you either after that pregame. but it didn't matter, you were just happy to be there.

right now the party was winding down, the three of you celebrating with some marlboro reds out front of the venue.

"you ready do go?" pat asks, flicking his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out.

you reach up to take his hand as he pulls you up off the front stoop.

"will you guys walk me back? it's late." you ask.

"fffffuck no" art shivers. "sorry but i am running back to our dorm" he taps pat on the shoulder.

"i'll walk you" pat reassures. "i'll see you back at the dorm then" he turns to art as you guys walk.

"see ya" art says before turning and jogging across the street towards their dorm.

"he's so drunk maybe you should've walked him home" you smile.

"he'll make it back just fine, it's you i'm worried about."

"and why's that?" you look up at him, still walking.

"you just couldn't listen to me when i told you to bring a jacket could you?"

"please im fine, it's southern california."

"it's night and it's winter. and you're shivering."

"stop worrying about me, worry about yourself big shot. maybe next award show, you'll be getting the award." you smile up at him.

"yeah i don't think so" he slides his jacket off of his shoulders.

"no pat" you push it back towards him as he holds it out for you.

"okay good because it's really fucking cold." he slides it back on.

"i knew you weren't a gentleman."

"not to you" he laughs.

"oh pat i'm sure you take all of your women out before you fuck them." you sigh. "or men."

"i am not fucking art" he laughs. "i don't know how many times we have to have this conversation."

"yeah sure you're not patrick 'i'll see you at the dorm' zweig."

"i will! i will see him back at the dorm, what's wrong with saying that."

"i'll see you back at the dorm, ya know when my dick is inside you. pat we both know what you meant by that."

"stop before i decide to let you walk home on your own." he says playfully.

"sorry sorry no more talking about your boyfriend." you laugh. "isn't it kind of stupid to drink the night before a match?" you switch conversations.

"it's an afternoon match, and i didn't drink that much, not as much as art."

"oh and here his name comes up again." you jab.

he laughs as you approach your dorm building.

"you wanna come in? i redid the place." you beam.

"yeah sure" you both enter the building and make your way up to your dorm.

"sooo this is the place... see i moved the bed. more feng shui or some bullshit."

"i like it." he seats himself on your bed.

"you gonna stay a while?" you wonder.

"yeah" he breathes, laying back on your tiny twin. "if that's okay" he adds, straining his neck to look at you.

"well you've already made yourself at home."

he laughs and sits up on his elbows. you take a seat on the bed next to him, sitting up higher, back against the wall. he turns to his side, still propped up on his elbow to look at you.

"you looked good tonight, i don't know if i said that already." as he speaks, he looks away.

"i don't think you've ever said that."

"i mean it you look good. not just tonight either."

you blush and look away. "you're drunk pat."

"no i'm not, i barely had anything to drink."

"don't... don't compliment me weirdo." you push his shoulder.

"sorry for trying to be nice." he sighs, turning away from you to look at the ceiling.

"you have literally not once complimented me."

"bullshit i compliment your backhand all the time. wish i fucking had it."

"i meant my looks, and your backhands good too to be fair."

"well you do look good, maybe i don't say it enough." he drops his head back on the bed.

"what's with the sudden rush of affection, hm?"

"i don't know, maybe i'm feeling extra nice."

"you look good too" you blurt, feeling the embarrassment immediately preceding your words.

now it's his turn to blush and look away, turning his head to the other side.

"what's a matter patty? can't take a compliment." your hand comes to cup his jaw and turn his head.

"don't..." he looks into your eyes.

suddenly you can't help the question that surges out of your chest. "why did you invite me patrick?"

he knows he can't lie to you. not when you're looking at him with those soft eyes. "i wanted people to think you were coming as my date." he breathes, eyes still laser focused on yours.

"was i?" you smile down at him.

"we're you?"

you ignore his question and lean in to kiss him, craning your neck.

you take his top lip in between yours, your noses smushing together. he sucks on your bottom lip before trying to pry your mouth open with his own. you get the point and let him in, his tongue immediately licking into your mouth.

as he sits up you take the hint and climb into his lap, pulling back.

"are we taking things too fast?" you lace your fingers into his hair.

"no, please no." his begging lips look so appealing.

a smile grows on your face. "good because i want you so fucking bad right now." he smiles in response. your hands tug at his shirt.

the top button of his polo is undone in an instant and he pulls it over his head. fuck he looks good.

your needy hands find their way to his chest trailing over toned muscles. its not that you haven't seen it before, its just that this is so, so different.

he takes the initiative, flipping you over onto your back, now onto top of you and you can't help but wrap your legs around him.

"how long have you wanted this?" you whisper, looking him in the eye.

"so long, please just let me..." and you can feel him pressing against your inner thigh as he trails off.

"you can do anything you want" you smile up at him.

"don't... don't tell me that." he takes your hand from his chest and squeezes it.

you smile up at him and sit up, sliding your shirt off.

"oh fuck" he sighs, leaning back down to kiss you.

the kiss is passionate, more rushed than before. tongues shoving into each others mouths as he shamelessly begins to rut against you. he pulls back, panting into your mouth.

"you need more pat?" you whisper.

"please" he groans, still grinding into you.

"why don't you take these off hm?" your fingers hook on his waistband.

"yeah" he breathes, shifting to tug them off. you sit up as he does. the room suddenly feels like its on fire and you're burning up watching him. it's nothing new, seeing him like this, he is a slut to be fair. walking out of the shower, or lounging around the dorm in the hot summer. but the way he's looking at you, soft, almost nervous eyes, and the way his chest is rising and falling so quickly is unfamiliar.

"can i..." he looks up at you suddenly, almost forgetting you were there.

"what?" he says softly, cheeks rosy.

"can you take these off?" you ask, grabbing at his boxers.

he lets out a low sigh and nods as he lifts his hips to tug them off. as gently as you can, you place a hand on his shoulder, afraid that if you move to quickly, he'll decide he doesn't want this after all.

deciding that if he won't ask, you'll just do, you start to unbutton your pants. he inhales sharply, watching you with careful eyes.

"you're so pretty," his helping hands come to assist you with the zipper, pulling your jeans and underwear down your legs.

"you too" shaky hands lace into his hair as you lay back down, pulling him on top of you.

"stop talking like that" he lets out a breathy laugh.

"talking like what?" you smile, hearing his laugh.

"like you like me" he says playfully.

"i do like you."

"well stop talking about it, it's making me nervous."

"you can touch me ya know... or is that going to make you more nervous?" you laugh softly.

"no" his hand finds your waist, stabilizing himself on his forearm next to your head.

"i didn't mean like that." you laugh and shake your head, taking his hand from where it is, moving it up to your mouth. as you push his middle and ring finger into your mouth you can feel him shiver. looking up at him with soft eyes, he fucking moans, watching you take his fingers in your mouth.

"oh fuck don't look at me like that."

popping his fingers out of your mouth, you giggle. "you don't want me to do anything."

"everything you do makes me nervous." he sighs as you guide his hand down.

"all the time or just now."

"all the time, it's just worse now because you can see my dick."

"that's making you nervous?"

"obviously."

"why? i like it."

"see that's what i mean... don't... don't say that." he sighs.

"i can't say i like you're dick when you're literally on top of me naked? patrick do you know that we're about to fuck?"

"stop talking you're making me nervous." he sighs, letting you continue to guide his hand.

"okay patty." you guide his fingers to press up against your clit gently, shuddering as he applies pressure. he moves his fingers down, prodding at your entrance. "fuck pat be gentle with me."

his eyes squeeze shut and he takes a deep breath. "yeah, okay." starting gently with his already wet fingers, he slides his middle finger inside of you, curling it.

as he hears you let out a breathy moan, he gains confidence, adding his ring finger. "is that... is that okay?"

"i didn't mean that gentle pat, i've fingered myself before."

"yeah... sorry." he continues, adding his thumb to rub your clit slowly.

"it's okay" your hands move to tug at his hair and he whines. "still nervous?"

"less" he sighs, his fingers picking up a rhythm.

"feels good pat..." you moan, your ees fluttering shut. he groans in response, speeding up the pressure on your clit but keeping his fingers at the same place.

"why didn't you say anything?" he asks, quietly.

"what?" you goan.

"why didn't you ever say that you liked me?"

"fuck- pat, i thought... i thought you didn't like me..." you manage.

"of course i like you."

"keep- stop... stop talking i'm close."

he nods, fingers speeding up.

"keep doing that please im gonna- fuck." you finish, shaking on his fingers as you let your orgasm wash over you, clenching down on him.

"fuck you're so pretty" he sighs, taking his fingers out. bringing his hands up to his mouth, he sucks on his fingers, letting his eyes fall shut.

"pat if you don't fuck me right now i'm actually going to strangle you." and how could he say no to that? how could he say no to anything when you look like that.

he nods. "i can do that... yeah."

wrapping your legs around him, you squeeze his waist with your thighs. as he guides himself to press against you, you both moan.

he starts pressing it inside, very slowly as you open up around him.

"fuck pat you're so big" you hiss as he nudges inside of you.

he pauses to squeeze his eyes shut at your words, needing a moment. he continues, slowly, his eyes flicking from your face to where your greedy pussy is taking him inch by inch, so, so fucking good.

he's searching your face for an ounce of discomfort and doesn't find any when he bottoms out.

"just... just stay like that for a minute please?" your face screws up, getting used to the stretch.

"yeah it's okay, as much time as you need." he sighs, so very grateful that you're asking him to stay put so he doesn't have to tell you that he won't last if he moves.

you take a moment as he breathes into your neck, panting softly.

"okay i'm ready" you breathe. he pulls out, as gently as he can, trying not to hurt you. he groans as you clench down on him, already overstimulated from your last orgasm.

"fuck you're so tight" he sighs into your neck.

you tug on his hair. "want to look at you" you whine. both of your eyes meet and he looks like he could cry as he ever so gently pushes back into you. "i can't believe it took us this long to do this."

"you should have told me you wanted this earlier." as he reaches for your hand, he keeps eye contact, grabbing your hand and squeezing it hard.

"you should have told me," your heals dig into the backs of his thighs, pushing him as deep as possible and he groans loudly. covering his mouth with your hand you whisper. "you've gotta be quiet pat, people are still awake," his pleading eyes meet yours.

"fuck i'm not gonna last if you keep looking at me like that" he keeps up with the same speed.

"then don't."

he groans, picking up the pace at your words. his hips meat yours over and over again. the only sounds in the room are your heavy panting, his breathy moans and the soft sound of skin clapping. breath fans over your face as he gains even an ounce of composure, something he so desperately needs. you can smell the natty light, the cigarettes, the gum. you can feel the callouses on his hands, the sweat, the neediness of his grabs. you can hear the moans erupting from his chest, somewhere deeper than anything you've heard of him playing tennis. it's all so real. you can feel it all at once and it's almost too much.

"fuck you feel so good, i can't believe you're letting me do this" his eyes never leaving yours.

"i can't believe you're fucking me like this... shit- i should have told you sooner, i'm sorry patty."

"fuck stop... stop squeezing me like that i'm not... fuck" he groans, his hips slowing down.

"what-"

"i don't wanna cum yet, i wanna get you there first."

"fuck you're doing so good."

he changes the angle as your legs pull him in. now he's hitting in all of the right places, the pleasure near doubling as he fucks you like he needs you. like if he doesn't you'll both die. like if he stops, you'll fade at his finger tips. he hits a particular spot that makes you squeeze his hand and gasp out a choked moan. he begins abusing it, like it's his to use, which it is. you'd let him do anything to you if he keeps looking at you with those soft blue eyes.

"fuck i'm so close" you gasp.

"please cum, i need to- need to feel it... fuck-" his hips are stuttering.

you reach your hand down to start rubbing over your clit at a rough pace, already so, so fucking close.

"i'm cumming pat fuck i'm-" your moans are pornographic as you shake and clench down on him, gasping for air as your body rocks with ecstasy.

"i can't- i can't pull out, fuck- it's too good, i'm gonna- fuck, thank you, thank you." his words are barely comprehensible as you can feel him cumming inside of you, chanting your name with his hips rocking into you as far as they can.

you sigh toying with his hair as he rides it out, hips lazily grinding into your body.

he practically collapses on top of you.

"was that okay? i'm sorry i can buy you-"

"it's okay i'm on birth control."

"thank you" he's pulling out and getting off of you, rolling to the side and suddenly you feel so fucking empty.

"for what?" you laugh.

"for letting me..." he trails off, becoming shy to his own words.

you laugh, not exactly knowing how to respond. "so how long have you wanted to fuck me?" you ask as you stand up.

"like two years... wait you don't think that's all i want right?"

you look back at him, cocking an eyebrow.

"i mean i like you, actually as a friend... wait no not... like i have romantic feelings for you, i want you, more than to... hook up with."

"aww," you throw on some old shorts, climbing back onto your bed next to him. "i like you too pat."

"okay good." he lets out a sigh of relief.

"i told you... like twice."

"i know but i just didn't want it to be something that you said in the heat of the moment, and didn't actually mean it." you slide under your covers, pulling them on top of both of you. the bed is so small that you're practically atop him, not unlike you were just 15 minutes ago.

"no never," you shift to your side, , letting him wrap an arm around you as you're now eye to eye with him. "you're spending the night right?"

"yeah of course."

"wow you're finally a gentleman, maybe next time i can even get the jacket." you flick your lamp off and shut your eyes.

"only if you let me take you out."

"mhm, anytime."

"goodnight."

"goodnight patty cakes."

#patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig #challengers smut #patrick zweig x reader

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flawssy-227 · 2 days ago

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Fogwell’s pt.1 Matt murdock x f!reader

pairing: College!matt murdock x fem!reader

a/n: this is a repost from almost THREE years ago on my old blog! since the new daredevil is coming out soon... maybe I'll revisit my favorite hell's kitchen baby boy.

I will always do my best to leave the reader description as vague as possible (albeit female, but I am a woc, so will also always have woc in mind in my writing)

WC: 1.3k

Warnings: mention of beer, language

You remembered the first time you met him.

It was a Sunday at Fogwell’s, the gym was closed except for a private training session you had held earlier, some women from a hair salon in Hell’s Kitchen wanting to learn self defense.

You heard the little bell chime above the front door that signaled someone was coming in.

“We’re closed,” you called out without turning around. You were preoccupied with taking off your hand wraps as you heard him tentatively tap his way into the gym.

“Oh, sorry,” he started. “I was hoping I could speak with the owner.”

“You’re lookin’ at her,” you stated definitively. You took in his appearance, tall, somewhat built, a slight blush crossing his cheeks, and stubble you almost wanted to reach out and run your fingers across. He was cute you thought, as you tried searching his eyes before realizing they were pointed downward, a walking stick clutched tightly in his hands. “What can I help you with?”

“You don’t sound like the owner of a boxing gym in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen,” the man cocked his head to the side with a small smirk.

You scoffed a bit. “It’s my uncle’s gym, but he is on an extended vacation in Florida. Till he comes back, if he comes back, I’m the owner-operator,” you stated matter of factly. “You gonna question me or tell me what you want?” you said as you finished unwinding your hand wraps.

His small smirk extended into a full grin as he took a step closer to you and extended his hand for you to shake. “I’m Matt. I uh, I wanted to see if I could train here?”

You shook his hand, large and warm in yours. “Yeah, sure. We have open gym from 11-4, Monday through Saturday, kickboxing classes during the week at 5, boxing after that…” you trailed off. “What are you looking for?”

“Something more… private, actually.”

Now it was your turn to cock your head questioningly. As if he could feel it, he started speaking again.

“Even though I’m blind, I can feel people watching me. I know they’re wondering what someone like me is doing at a boxing gym, but I don’t need the judgement or little comments they make that they think I can’t hear. Plus my dad used to box here, way back in the day. I just want to be able to train in peace, privately. After hours?” he explained.

“After hours?”

“Just a couple of days a week. I’ll stay out of your way. I promise.”

There was sincerity in his voice as you weighed your options. He seemed perfectly nice, innocent even. You usually stayed late in the gym most nights anyway, either looking over Fogwell’s books or training by yourself. Matt training after hours wouldn’t really impact you either way, plus, if you were being honest, you could use all the extra help financially.

“I’ll tell you what, you can stay today. I’ll be in the office, working on some things. Use the gym, do whatever you want, and I’ll make a decision after. Does that sound fair?”

Matt nodded his head, still clutching his walking stick. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“No worries, Matt.” You began walking your way back to your office before turning around again. “You’re a Murdock, right?”

Matt was in the middle of unzipping his jacket when he turned to look back at you quizzically.

“You said your dad trained here. It was Jack, right? Jack Murdock?”

He slowly nodded back at you.

You walked backward to your office, taking in the man in front of you. “Nice to meet you, Murdock.”

That was about 5 weeks ago, and Matt had been making regular appearances in your gym ever since. He would show up after hours a few times during the week and on weekends, sometimes giving you a call and begging, pleading you to come back and unlock the gym for him. You always would, knowing he would slip you a few extra dollars or bring you a 6-pack of beer to show his gratitude. You knew it wasn’t the only reason you would go out of your way to let Matt into Fogwell’s, but he didn’t have to know that.

You had a quickly developing crush on him. He was sweet, kind, and smart. Not hard to look at, either. He would flirt with you sometimes too, you were sure of it. Complimenting your perfume, praising your generosity. Sometimes you felt like he could read your mind, calling out your name or coming into the office every time you would daydream about him. You would always ask him to stay later when he brought you beer, too. Sometimes he would, and you two would spend an extra hour sitting around and talking about life. You really began to look forward to his calls, feeling a little lonely if you didn’t hear from him for a couple of days.

There were other reasons you wanted to see him, too. He would do things, when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Things that made you question how much his disability really affected him. So, when he gave you a call at 9 PM on a Saturday, begging, no, pleading you to open up the gym for him, you immediately said yes.

He was waiting for you at the front door, body perking up as he heard you approaching.

“You got here fast,” he said.

“Murdock, you know I live upstairs.”

“I know, I know. I’m just surprised you didn’t have plans. It is Saturday, after all.”

You scoffed as you held the door open for him. “Here to make me feel bad or to train?”

He laughed as he made himself comfortable in the gym. He took off his hoodie and you made a sharp inhale at his toned stomach. Was it just you, or was he getting ripped?

“Can I ask you a question?” you asked, walking toward the ring in the center of the gym.

“Sure,” he said, rolling his neck and shaking out his muscles.

“You ever think about getting in the ring?” You hopped up onto the platform and lowered the middle rope to climb in.

Matt looked at you, a smile tugging on his lips. “Can’t say that I have. Might not be easy for me to see who I’m fighting, on account of the no seeing thing.”

“Humor me,” you said, trying to take a slow deep breath as the shirtless man made his way toward you.

Matt walked to the ring, reaching his hand out to feel for the platform before climbing into it himself.

You slowly walked around the ring while Matt stayed close to the ropes, trying to decide the best way to approach your theory.

“I’ve been watching you these past few weeks,” you started, centering yourself directly across from him.

His eyebrows quirked up at your confession. “Oh?”

You nodded your head. “You’d probably be a tough opponent. Natural ability, a lot of fight in you.”

Matt’s smile grew bigger, his chest puffing out slightly at your compliment. He was clearly about to make some clever, flirty remark back at you, as he always did, but you took advantage of his distracted state and slid your keys out of your pocket, throwing them straight at his head.

You watched as his brows furrowed, only slightly, his head popping straight up. You don’t know it, but Matt feels the breeze shift in the gym when your arm quickly moves to throw the keys, he smells your deodorant, the fragrance being released because of the little bits of friction caused by your movement, and he tastes the metallic of the keys as they fly through the air.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting. You had a feeling, but you were still surprised to see Matt clutching your keys directly in front of his eyes. He looks at you, eyes pointed slightly downward, a devilish smirk plastered on his face, knowing you caught him.

“I fucking knew it!”

would you guys like more Matt? I have a very very old angsty wip that I'm tempted to finish if anybody is interested!

#matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #daredevil #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil born again

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jackactuallywrites · 2 days ago

Text

All Seeing, All Knowing, All Loving part 15

Warnings: None

Summary: You find a pretty dress in a charity shop! And who you gonna show it to? Hmmm

Word Count

ao3 link

It had been a productive day of shopping. Of course, your initial plan hadn’t actually been to buy anything; you were only supposed to go there to look at things, touch some nice textures, have a drink and something sweet, and then go home. But you hadn’t planned on the dress.

Why such a beautiful dress was stuffed in the back of an Oxfam was beyond you. It looked as though it had come from some royal princess, all expensive black satin, with an off-the-shoulder neckline and a full skirt. Destiny clearly had a hand in things, as not only was it in your size, but it was also under a hundred pounds. It was still a little expensive, more than you would have considered spending on a normal dress, but there was something special about it. It was giving vintage Christian Dior- the new look. It wasn’t actually one of his gowns; of course, that would have been too lucky, but that didn’t make it any less beautiful.

“Buy it.” Katie was very certain in her opinion of the dress, “Buy it, and then get fucked in it.”

“Can’t I just wear it?”

She shrugged, “I mean if you want to be boring, sure. But a dress like that deserves an event, an occasion, you know? Something special.”

You gave it a little twirl on the hanger, watching the skirt billow, “I don’t think I have an occasion that’s good enough for a dress like this. It’s not like I’m invited to Buckingham Palace.”

Katie snorted, “Place is full of nonces and cunts anyways, why would you want to go there?”

You snorted, “Alright, fair point. If I was to go to, uh,” you couldn’t really think of a fancy event you could feasibly go to, “yeah, no, I’m not posh enough for this dress.”

Katie took the dress from you, walking away so quickly that you didn’t have time to stop her. She went straight to the counter, where she plopped it down, already taking her card out to buy it. You protested, “Kate, come on, it’s too much.”

The woman at the counter raised an eyebrow, and Kate rolled her eyes, “Don’t pay attention to her. I’m buying this. Could you find us a bag or something to put it in, please?” The woman clearly didn’t care about your little disagreement; after all, she was in customer service; no doubt she had developed the ability to ignore all sorts of shit. She just held out the card reader for Katie to tap her card on, which she did, and then went off into the back to pack the dress into a bag.

“Kate, how am I possibly supposed to repay you for this?”

Katie rolled her eyes at you, “You know that’s not the point of friendship, right? We’ve never been the type to obsess over who owes who. You bought me coffee, I bought you a dress. Who cares?”

That was how it went with her. She worked hard, and she scrimped and saved on other aspects of her life so she could spend frivolously when she liked. A wonderful trait, really; she was generous and kind, but it had always bugged you that you could never repay her generosity the same way.

Soon enough, the woman returned with an old paper Primark bag, in which she had carefully folded the dress up and put it inside. The contrast was kind of funny. Katie picked up the bag and balanced the thin paper straps on her arm, then walked out of the shop, leaving you to quickly walk after her.

It was hard to wander around the shops after that; you had something truly decadent in your bag, expensive and wonderful, and it was hard to not cradle it to your chest like a baby at every moment, terrified that if you put it down for even a second, it would be stolen. You didn’t even dare eat near it, terrified that you’d get some sort of icing or crumb on it and ruin the fabric. Katie bought you a plastic bag just so you could double bag it for safety, and then you finally allowed yourself to eat some cake.

When Katie had finally gotten on the bus home, you texted Ghost.

‘You: You still want to give me a lift?’

It didn’t take long for him to text back.

‘Ghost: Where are you?’

You took a picture of the cafe you were sitting outside and sent it to him.

‘You: (image) You know this place?’

‘Ghost: Will be there soon. ETA 15 minutes.’

He didn’t fuck about. You took a seat on a nearby concrete planter and waited.

It didn’t take long for him to turn up, fourteen minutes later, in his little black car. You could see that he wasn’t wearing his usual balaclava. Instead, he was wearing a black surgical mask and a pair of sunglasses. Subtle.

You opened the passenger side door, and were greeted by the intoxicating smell of his cologne, as well as the quiet thumping bass of house music. It sounded like a 90s rave. You took a seat, placing your bags in the footwell and pulling the door closed behind you. Then, you turned to Ghost, your eyes flicking over the dark bruises that still littered his face. Perhaps that was why he’d chosen to wear a mask and sunglasses.

“Had a nice day?” He questioned.

You nodded, “Yeah, pretty decent. You been up to much?”

Ghost shrugged as he put the car into gear, and you put on your seatbelt, choosing not to pry.

The question came out regardless.

“So what did you do today?”

“Bit of this, bit of that.”

“You always so secretive?”

He snorted, “Part of the job.”

“Ah, right, SAS stuff.”

“Not interesting, really. Tell me about your day.”

You weren’t sure how interested Ghost was in the intricacies of shopping, but you regaled him with your day regardless, and he was nice enough to ask further questions about what you had for lunch and if you got anything from Boots. Considering the bizarre circumstances under which you’d met him, the conversation was strangely normal, just two people chit-chatting about a day. You kept the conversation going right up to your front door, “You have to see this dress I got. I swear, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.”

“You look in a mirror every day, don’t you?”

You snorted as you opened your door, “My God. Are you made of sugar?”

“You can taste me if you like.”

That made you cackle, and you dumped your bags on the counter, “Terrible.”

Your fingers trailed over the plastic bag that contained the dress, and you looked at Ghost curiously, “Want to see the dress?”

“Of course.”

Very carefully, you undid the plastic bag and then took the paper bag out, reaching in to take the dress out, the beautiful garment still on the padded hanger. You shook it out with a flourish, “Look! Isn’t it gorgeous?”

“I’d have to see it on.”

You weren’t sure if that was a subtle way to get you out of your clothes, but you did want an excuse to get into the dress.

“Wait here.”

The dress was surprisingly annoying to get into. Satin didn’t have much give, so you had to wiggle to get it around your thighs, terrified that you’d pull too hard and rip the fabric. Now, you were faced with a different problem. The zip was annoying to get to, you had to twist to get it, and the damn thing was so small and delicate it was constantly slipping out of your fingers. You probably could have done it yourself, but then an interesting idea came to mind. You held the dress tight to your chest, covering your bare chest with the fabric, your back fully exposed to the air. Was your underwear visible at the very bottom of the open zipper? You hoped so.

You walked back into the living room, wearing only your knickers and a half-zipped-up dress. Ghost was in the kitchen, apparently making himself tea, seemingly very at home. “I need your help.”

He turned around slowly, tea in hand, his mask and sunglasses off, “What d’you-“ his voice faded as he took in the sight of you, and a slow smile spread over his bruised and battered face. “You need my help with that?”

You turned around, showing him your back, “I need you to zip me up.”

You felt exposed like this, your back turned to him, waiting awkwardly in the dim light of your room, unable to see what he was thinking.

Then, the quiet sound of footsteps on the carpet as he walked over to you and the hairs on the back of your neck prickled as you felt his presence behind you. His fingers brushed against your back as you felt him pull the fabric together, goosebumps prickling over your exposed skin as he slowly began to pull the zipper upwards. About halfway up, he paused to brush the hair off the nape of your neck, his fingers soft and gentle against your skin, letting your hair softly fall over your collarbone. His fingers paused there for a moment, taking a long, meandering path from the tip of your shoulder blade across to your spine and then straight down your back until he met with the zipper again.

A subtle shiver went through the length of your body. Christ. A single touch from the man, and you were ready to throw him into your bed. This was supposed to be you teasing him! The zip went up swiftly until the dress was pulled snugly around your body, with Ghost fastening the clasp at the back. You very quickly took a step forward away from him, needing to put a little space in between the two of you before you tried to jump his bones. The dress swooshed as you moved, a good distraction from the sheer desire coursing through your veins, and you decided to do a little spin, watching the fabric twirl out around you.

“How does it feel?” Ghost asked.

It felt like you wanted to ride him, but you didn’t verbalise that. Instead, you just smiled and brushed the fabric out, “Fancy. Might need a petticoat to really poof out the skirt, though.”

When you looked at Ghost, you could see how large his pupils were, like a cat about to pounce, his jaw tense. He looked agitated. You smiled at him, swishing the dress side to side, “What do you think?”

Ghost cleared his throat, “Think you need someplace to wear it.”

You sighed, “Well yeah, but I don’t have anywhere that calls for a dress like this.”

“I might.”

That got a raised brow from you, and you looked at him curiously, “Really? I can’t see you in a suit.”

The corners of his lips pulled up in a slight smile, “I’ve been known to wear one. When duty calls.”

“Duty calls for you to wear a suit?”

“Soldiers have dos. Occasionally.”

You tilted your head at him, “You inviting me to a fancy soldiers party as your date?”

Ghost reached out for your hand, placing his other hand on top of it, a silent, solemn promise, “The next time we have a proper mess dinner, I want you on my arm. In this dress.”

It was impossible not to smile at that, and you gave him a little mock curtsy, “I’d be delighted to.”

“So,” Ghost began, gently pulling on your hands to bring you closer to him, “You need help getting out of this dress?”

You put your hand out to keep some space between you, your fingers coming into contact with his chest. Even though there was the thick material of his black jumper between your hands and his skin, it was thrilling. Yet, you could see a slight tautness in Ghost’s jaw, a slight furrowing of his brows. Something was wrong.

“You alright?”

Ghost cleared his throat and took a step back from you, dropping your hand, “Yeah, no, I’m fine.” He ran his fingers through his hair, “I just, I should get going.”

He’d been trying to get you out of your dress, but now it seemed like he was trying to flee. You couldn’t figure out where things had gone wrong. He turned away from you to go to the kitchen to grab his mask and sunglasses from where he’d dumped them on the counter, covering his face up once again. He made a gesture for you to turn around when he returned to the living room, and you did so, turning your back to him. This time, he avoided touching your bare skin as he undid the clasp and pulled the zip halfway down, far enough down where you could do the rest easily.

You turned around to him, trying to scan him for any sort of upset, but it was impossible to read anything under the sunglasses and mask, probably by design. He reached out to touch your cheek, his fingers softly grazing against your skin, before he abruptly turned and left.

#jack writes #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #cod fic #simon ghost x reader

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narrans · 2 days ago

Text

A Small and Tall Collection | Chapter Fifteen | Candle Lit Christmas

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Chapter Fifteen | Candle Lit Christmas

First thing the next morning, one thing was absolutely certain – it was freezing. Ashlynn huddled under her blankets in every clothing layer she possessed and still she was insufferably cold.

Were her thoughts occupied with the dangers of her interaction with the three brothers last night?

No.

Was she thinking about how to keep herself safe and to avoid any unnecessary confrontations with the three humans she had decided to trust?

No.

Was she considering the possibility of returning?

No.

All she could think about was how cold it was.

What on earth is going on? It’s absolutely frigid! Did Soren turn off the heat? Is there something wrong with the heater? Is this some kind of human ploy to get me out of the walls? What time is it even?

Ashlynn dared to poke her head out from under her layered blankets, brow and eyes instantly stiff with an unforgivable chill, as she looked around her home. It was here that something caught her eye – her lights weren’t on. The little lights she’d tapped into and borrowed from the neighboring apartments were completely out.

That’s weird. The chances of this being a simple fix dwindled fast. What made it weird was that the power for the lights came from lots of different places. If there was a short or something along those lines, just one strand would be affected. Did this mean something happened to the power in all of these places?

It was with regret and reluctance that Ashlynn bundled up and hauled herself out of her bed, the imprint of warmth left behind in a perfect silhouette of her body. She shuffled over to the plugs and places she’d wired together just in case, but found nothing in the light of her hip lamp that indicated that the wires were bad or that something had burned out. Bulbs tested. Wires checked.

Ashlynn watched her breath form a steaming fog with every breath out, and every breath in felt like she little icicles were jabbing her lungs from the inside. She quickly retreated back to the warmth and safety of her bed, relieved her warm spot was waiting for her, and extinguished her lamp.

Just a few minutes longer, and then if nothing happens I’ll go check and see if the boys are here. Maybe Soren is doing something with the electricity. Then again, I haven’t heard them all morning. Hope everything’s okay…

~~~^*^*^~~~

And, for the boys, everything was more than okay. It was great!

First thing, early in the morning, Soren woke up his brothers and showed them the fresh layer of snow spread across the yards. Layers and layers of gray snow already scraped from the road was once again concealed by a duvet of white, frozen flakes. He usually let his brothers sleep, but sledding on Christmas Eve day was too good to pass up.

So, he picked out the warmest clothes they had and bundled them up into the car to go to his favorite secret sledding spot. It was a treasured place. Sometimes hard to get to, and rarely visited since everything happened, but it didn’t diminish the special meaning it had for Soren.

The trio set out into the snow, unaware that moments after they left that the power would go out for them and the rest of their neighborhood.

“Soren? Where are we going?” asked Dorian, interrupted momentarily by a yawn, as he peered out the window.

“Sledding. I told you that,” reminded Soren as he glanced back at his brother.

“I know, but… you turn left to go to the part; or we walk. You… see? You took a right,” pointed out Dorian. Rey’s eyes gleamed as he attempted to bounce and squirm. His efforts were severely thwarted from his layers of puffy winter coats and the seatbelt protecting him.

“Oh! OH! I know! I know! We’re going to The Hill, right?” grinned the youngest brother. Soren couldn’t hide his smile.

“Maybe.”

“Oh! I knew it!” cheered Rey.

“Wait. The Hill? Really?” Dorian chimed in eagerly.

The Hill, as Soren called it, was a place that he and his parents used to go to whenever it snowed because it had the best hills, hence the name. There was a park he and his parents used to enjoy when he was younger right next to a thick, wooded area. The park was an old-fashioned one, with rusted spring bound horses and metal slides. The swing set rocked back and forth due to years of abuse and the earth leveling beneath it.

It also had the best places to sled down. Old trails took you to several quiet, steep hills. It was here that Soren and his father, Aaron, had the all-time record for hills to jump. If you started at the top of one, you could crest over some of the smaller ones beside it, and Soren and his dad had managed to make it all the way to the end during one particularly icy snowfall.

That was before he got sick…

As if the brothers behind him could read his mind, Dorian asked, “Isn’t this the place your dad brought you to?”

Soren had to clear the tension in his throat before responding, “Yes, it is.” His eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror to see Rey and Dorian exchanging elated glances.

“Just like you’re dad took you!” Rey smiled. Soren swallowed hard and continued to nod rather than respond.

“But you’re not our dad,” stated Dorian in a matter-of-fact tone. It made Soren chuckle.

“No, I’m not. I’m something better – your pesky older brother,” he said as he glanced over his shoulder at his brothers. Rey started giggling before going off into his own side tangent.

“Soren? Soren? Do… wasn’t that so funny yesterday? When Ashlynn was like, ‘Isn’t Soren your dad?’ And! And…”

“That definitely was interesting,” admitted Soren. In a way, Ashlynn wasn’t wrong to guess Soren’s roll here in the family. He had taken on quite the heavy mantle after the accident with the boys’ father and their mother. It still made his blood boil, the way it all had to happen.

Brady should’ve never been behind the wheel. Soren’s grip tightened on the wheel. Serves him right. Drunken scumbag.

He was so focused on his loathing that Soren almost missed the turn. Quick jerk to the left with a little skidding that made the boys giggle and squeal and, all of a sudden, Soren felt like he was back in a memory. He followed the unplowed road through the arcing trees up one road and down the next before, just like before, he saw the all-too-familiar sight of the place he’d adored as a child.

“We’re here!” the boys cheered in tandem.

Yes… yes we are.

“Alright you two, unbuckle and let’s get going. We have some sledding to do.”

Soren hoisted the sleds onto his back and led the way around the park, over the creek, and then began the trudge up the series of small hills. He and his brothers paused frequently, mostly because of Rey wanting to eat icicles and draw smiley faces in the undisturbed winter around them, until they saw it.

The Hill.

It towered over them, a mass of white that made both boys pause and look up with their entire bodies since their bundled bodies couldn’t simply move their neck. The motion reminded Soren of the original Batman costume, but the reference would be lost on his brothers.

Maybe we’ll watch that if they don’t want to watch something else more Christmas themed tonight. Soren thought.

“Alright. Final push, and then we slide down,” huffed Soren.

“Soren? I’m tired. Could you carry me?” asked Rey. Soren looked over his shoulder to see his brother standing pitifully in snow almost to his knees with his lower lip puckered out. Whether Rey knew it or not, Soren could never say no when his brother made that face.

“Alright. Get on,” he relented as he knelt in the snow.

“Hey! Can I go too?” Dorian asked.

Figures. I knew this would happen. I did the same thing at their ages.

“Pile on!”

It took some finagling, but Soren managed to get both his brothers onto his back while dragging the sled behind. With both boys secure and Soren realizing this was going to be quite the challenge, the eldest forced his quaking knees to push him upright as he began the climb. The boys knew better than to flail and bounce. They knew Soren would make them walk if they weren’t going to behave themselves, so they remained motionless and fastened tight, clutching onto Soren’s shoulders for dear life.

Step after step, Soren ascended The Hill.

Each step made Soren feel stationary. No matter how much he pumped his legs, the top was nowhere to be found. He didn’t relent. Everything worth having was worth working for, and his brothers deserved this. Finally, out of breath and a bit achy, Soren crested over the top and partially as a joke and partially because his legs were screaming in protest, fell face first in the snow.

“Soren! Are you okay?” Rey squeaked.

“Did you get hurt?” asked Dorian immediately after. Soren rolled over and, in the blink of an eye, had grabbed his brothers and rolled them into the snow. The chorus of laughter erupted as the three were now covered in snow.

“Ugh, just crushed by you two. When did you decide to get so big?” groaned Soren as their laughter died down. The boys opened their mouths to protest, but paused as they saw the look in their brother’s eyes. It was unidentifiable for the youngsters, but it was unlike any way he’d looked at them before. Pride? Nostalgia? Realization?

Their mom had that look a few times…

As fast as the moment came, it went and soon Soren was on his feet and setting up their three person sled.

“Okay, Rey first, Dorian, and then me. Let’s go!” Soren’s commanding voice set the boys to action immediately. If only I could get them to do chores that easily, thought Soren sarcastically. Snow crunched under their feet as they assumed the correct order. The oldest remembered how his father did it, and now he was going to do the same. “Alright. Hang on tight and don’t lean, bounce, or let your feet drag. Ready? Set!” On “Go,” Soren pulled the sled back and ran with it, only jumping on at the last moment as it careened off of the edge.

The boys’ squeals were caught in the top of their throat as the frigid wind whipped past their faces. They held on tight, death gripping the edge of the sled by the improvised handles Soren made for them last Christmas. The weightlessness carried them down the hill and over the first two bumps before sliding to a stop on the third.

Almost! Thought Soren. Gotta get the record though. Not worth the trip without it.

He turned around and, using the handle, began dragging his brothers back up the series of hills. Thankfully, the boys didn’t make the next few climbs difficult, stomping through the snow beside Soren instead of getting a free ride off of his back. It wasn’t until the fifth try that, finally, the snow was flat enough for them to make a proper run of it.

“Ready? Set! GO!” Soren sprinted as he pushed the sled, his muscles aching in the cold, as he leapt on at the last moment. They soared over the first hill and the second, caught air on the third, and coasted through the last one all the way to the tree line before coming to a skidding stop right before the creek.

“We did it! We did it!” cheered Rey, bounding like a puppy in the snow with Dorian cheering right beside him.

Yeah… we did. See that mom? Dad? Keeping the tradition alive.

“Ready for another round?”

“Yeah!”

~~~^*^*^~~~

Hours passed in the freezing cold before, finally, the boys returned home. Everything felt numb, but neither boy could stop talking about what an awesome time they had. Now, a promise of hot chocolate and a warm bath lured them back to the car to make the drive home.

Soren had to admit that he could also use some time in a nice hot shower, but hot chocolate and getting the boys warm took precedent. They would pass out like played out puppies and nap the moment Soren left them alone for more than a minute, and it would be better if they were already PJ’d up and ready for a night in than trying to wake them later.

They rounded the final corner to their neighborhood and up to their place. Soren tapped the garage door and, to their surprise, nothing happened. Twice. Three times. Nothing. Soren put the car in park and stepped up to the keypad to press the frozen through buttons when he noticed the light failed to come on.

“Oh no,” he grumbled. This wasn’t good. He tried once more, just to be safe, and sadly received the same result.

The power was out.

How long has it been out? We’ve been gone for a while. Please tell me the pipes haven’t frozen. Looks like it’s improv time.

“Soren? Is everything okay?” Dorian had unbuckled himself and was leaning out of the car, concern etching its way into his thawing features.

“Maybe. I think the power’s out. Storm must’ve taken out the power lines and the generators,” replied Soren, who returned to the car and shut it off. “We’ll have to go in through the front. Come on.”

He guided the boys inside and, to keep them from tracking in snow, quickly undressed at the front door step so he was in nothing but his long pants and long sleeved shirt before picking up one boy and then the next, shoving them in the garage to rid themselves of their snow covered gear. The moment he stepped inside, Soren could’ve sworn he could see his breath. Evidently, the power had been out for a while, and that wasn’t good. The emergency flashlights flooded the room with small beacons of light, but that was all with the blinds closed and curtains drawn.

At least I remembered to keep the curtains sealed. It would be unbearable if I’d thrown open the blinds first thing.

He was prepared, as always, for emergencies, but it would add time and, sadly, the boys wouldn’t be getting a bath today unless the power came back on. Jammies on the boys and his own gear drying in the garage, Soren set to work.

“Soren? Why is it so cold in here?” asked Rey as he shivered and pulled his sleeves over his fingers.

“Well,” sighed Soren as he grabbed one of his own jackets and slid it onto his brother, instantly dwarfing the youngster, before pulling up the hood to cover his head. “When the power goes out, that means there’s no electricity. The heater runs off of electricity, so no power means no heat.” Soren pulled Dorian closer and slipped one of his jackets on him, zipping up the front all the way to Dorian’s chin.

“So… does that mean…” Soren knew where Rey was going with this.

“Yes. Operation Survival. You know where the flashlights are,” grinned Soren, biting back a shiver as he pulled a hoodie over his head.

“Yeah! Tent city! Campfire burner! Candles and fire! Let’s go!” Dorian cheered as he and Rey scampered off.

“Flashlights first!” Soren called. He rolled his eyes and stared at the kitchen sink, daring to reach forward and flicking the tap on.

Nothing.

Curses. Either the pipes are frozen or the backup generator is out too.

Soren crouched and opened the cabinet to see if he could find any signs of freezing pipes when he heard something on top of the counter directly behind him.

“S-s-soren?”

He glanced over his shoulder to see Ashlynn bundled in blankets to the point he could only make out part of her face.

“Ashlynn, hey,” he breathed.

“Wh-what’s g-going on?” Ashlynn’s teeth were chattering hard. “Is the p-power out?” A million things were going on in his mind to help get everything prepared for a potential power outage long haul, but pausing for a second to explain wouldn’t do any harm.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Soren grumbled. “Usually, there are generators and stuff to kick everything back on, but this snow storm must be hitting a lot of people all at once. So, we’re going into what myself and the boys affectionately call ‘Survival mode.’ We’ve also called it pioneer night, but operation survival motivates the boys.”

“Ah, I s-s-see,” muttered Ashlynn. “Explains the c-cold.”

“Oh… oh yeah, wow. So… gosh yeah, that would probably affect you more than any of us since you probably don’t have access to direct heat, huh.” Soren saw the small woman nod sheepishly. I couldn’t imagine not having access to electricity and modern tech. Basically every night is like pioneer night for someone like her. Soren shuddered to think of what it would be like to have to take care of him and his brothers if he were Ashlynn’s size with basically nothing to his name.

It made his heart ache, but then an idea hit him.

“Well, I don’t know what your plans are for the evening, but you’re welcome to join us. Dorian and Rey are going to be back here in a second and I’m going to set them on tent duty, which is basically a giant fort made of blankets so we can all be together and keep warm if the power doesn’t come back on. If you want to join them, I’m sure they’d love to have you,” suggested Soren. “Or not. Whatever you prefer. You might’ve just come down to figure out what was going on.”

“And… what are you doing?” asked Ashlynn.

“Me? Checking for leaks and breaks in the water pipes, but I don’t see any here and I can’t do much else except wait and see if there are any leaks,” replied Soren as he ducked back into the cabinet and, using his keen eyes, started seeking for any seam splits.

“Why can’t you do much else? Why wait?” asked Ashlynn, who knew the dangers of water leaking for more reasons than one. If there was a leak in the pipes, walls and floors were instantly torn up. She’d seen it happen to a friend’s family when they were growing up, and they had to move shortly after. The damage water could do was also dangerous. It could lead to mold and would ruin everything if not dealt with properly.

“Well, a lot of that stuff is either under the house where I can’t reach it right now or it’s in the walls,” explained Soren. It was like a bolt of lightning struck them both, giving the same idea at the same time. “Ashlynn…”

“Soren… er…” They accidentally started talking at the same time. They both chuckled as Soren gestured for Ashlynn to go first. “Well… if you need someone to check the walls, I could do that. It’s easy enough. I’ve already mapped out most of the pipes and stuff. It’s how I… well… er… let’s just say I know how to check for that kind of stuff.”

Soren’s smile was nearly from ear to ear.

“That would be great. Seriously, Ashlynn, thank you.” It felt like a boulder had been lifted off of Soren’s chest. With Ashlynn checking the walls, I can get everything else going. If she finds something, it’ll be a quick fix. If not, I’ll know it’s a generator. “Come back as soon as you’re done.”

“Sure,” Ashlynn replied. It was the first time she actually felt useful, like she was paying back a debt that wasn’t being asked for.

She’d almost made it to the walls when she heard Soren’s soft, “Oh.” She paused and looked back at him. “By the way, what kind of hot chocolate do you like? Have you… had it before?” Ashlynn had heard of this drink, but had never had a chance to borrow any. So, she shook her head. “Little of a few different ones then. Good to know. Thanks.”

Ashlynn clicked on her hip lamp and, like the shadow she was, slipped into the darkness in search of a leak.

Soren, in the meantime, gathered up a few pots and set them on the gas stove to start boiling snow for hand washing and other miscellaneous things. He had drinking water reserved in the closet and the garage. He retrieved the electric generators from the shelves and set to work making a big bowl of ramen for lunch and then soup for dinner.

When he told the boys Ashlynn would be joining them, they just about lost their minds.

“Twice? In two days!” They cheered as they set to work on the tent, saying, “Let’s make this one the best one ever so Ashlynn will be impressed. She’s probably never been in a fort before.”

Ashlynn determinedly began scouring the walls for every water pipe she could remember in the apartment. Up walls. Down corridors. She placed her hands on each frigid pipe and examined it up one side and down the other looking for bulges or poking out ice. She even made sure her area was secure before snagging a few things she would need if she was going to spend the evening with Soren and his brothers.

Brothers. Ridiculous. I should’ve seen it. They just… whatever. They look related, but not by much. Dorian and Rey must take after their actual father or Soren just really takes after his. Ashlynn crouched and flipped over some of the nearby pipes when she heard something.

*Hiss… Drip… Drip…. Drip…*

Everything stopped. She held her breath. Every little motion froze in place. Ashlynn listened as hard as she could, turning her head one way and then the other to tell where it was coming from. She picked up the pace, following the sound down one corridor and having to crawl on all fours under a support beam, but still finding nothing.

“Well, shoot,” she muttered, hands on her hips and reaching up to scratch the back of her neck. “Where are you? Sounds like it’s coming from… hm…”

She had an idea.

Ashlynn had a good sense of direction, and she knew this part of the house was near the outside of the house. If I’m right… Ashlynn slid down a line she’d secured when she first arrived in case of emergencies and, instantly, felt the bitter cold freezing her solid. It was the passage that led to the outside, and she was beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea.

Just a peak. Just a pe-AK! Ashlynn was halfway down the line when, suddenly, her foot hit solid ice. The jolt made her lose her grip and, as she slid down the rest of the line, she saw the culprit.

The water hose on the outside had indeed burst, and the spray had coated her emergency line in a thin coating of ice. Ashlynn plummeted straight down into a frozen mud pit, water spraying over her and into her hair. The wind kicked up again, sending millions of tiny snowflakes rushing right past her. The frigid air nearly brought Ashlynn to her knees once she was upright again.

Shoot! This is bad. Curses! Of course this happens to me. Ashlynn thought as she wiped the mud on her pants. She thanked her lucky stars she had her spare line and didn’t have to spend any time knocking the ice off of her safety line. It was that one more second that she needed to get inside instead of sitting outside freezing to death.

Though it took a bit longer to get inside because of her mud slicked hands and pants, Ashlynn was finally back inside and certain the pipes were alright.

“Great. Now I just have to get back and be a muddy mess for the rest of the night,” mumbled Ashlynn as she made the long slog back to her bag and the electrical cover on the counter.

~~~^*^*^~~~

“What happened?!” Soren’s voice was saturated with concern as he watched Ashlynn march back onto the counter, mud and ice on her clothes and in her hair. “Are you okay? Did you find a leak? Gosh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“It’s fine, Soren,” Ashlynn interrupted, feeling a bit flustered that Soren was fussing over her so much; not that she minded. In fact, she kind of liked it. She reached up and scratched the back of her neck, body still shivering from her exposure to the outside world. “Really. I just need to change and I’ll be good. On the positive side, at least we know it’s just a split hose outside and not something in the house.”

Soren sighed, right hand reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb, before glancing over at the lit stove where he had successfully melted several bowls of snow.

“Well, at the very least you can wash off that mud if you want. I’ve got some warm water here, and we’ll give you the bathroom to get changed and everything,” said Soren. The mention of warm water instantly made Ashlynn’s body tingle. She’d only ever had warm baths here, and she liked the experience. “Though technically, if you’re cold, it’s skin to skin that is recommended, but…”

Ashlynn didn’t hear the rest. Her ears instantly started ringing and her cheeks began burning hotter than her candle burning stove at the thought of skin to skin with Soren. Gosh! What’s wrong with me?!

“Ashlynn?”

The Borrower woman startled as she suddenly realized Soren’s hand was only a few inches from her. She looked down at his hand and then back up to his features, only now noticing the bowl of steaming water in his left hand.

“Is that… something you’d like?” he asked.

She swallowed hard and, realizing he was talking about the bath, nodded bashfully and stepped onto his fingers as she snagged her bag with her spare clothes in it. The heat radiating off of his palm was soothing, and she was tempted to see if she could just sit there and keep warm. The Borrower thought better of it and let Soren carry her to the bathroom, which was lit with candles.

“Um… there’s soap here and give a shout or come into the living room when you’re done. I’ll leave the door open a crack for you,” stated Soren as his hand glided down to the surface of the countertop to set her down.

“Th-thank you,” she mumbled as she disembarked and watched Soren go. Good grief! I can’t blank out and think about something as ridiculous as skin to skin with a human! What on earth is wrong with me?! Even if I took him up on that, he probably is treating me like he would a little sister. He treats his brothers with this same care. Good grief! What am I even thinking?

Ashlynn stripped and slid into the warm water, dunking herself in the hopes that warm water would cool her head.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Twenty or so minutes later, Ashlynn was squeaky clean with fresh clothes and clean ones drying on the edge of the sink. After getting clean, she scrubbed her clothes free of mud and set them out so she’d have something to get into later if she had another wardrobe malfunction.

Then, she wandered into the living room to see what exactly this “fort” was supposed to look like; and, in all actuality, it looked like a Borrower fort. The blankets were ramshackle and pinned in every which way between the two couches, which were now facing one another instead of being perpendicular. Other blankets and something that looked like foam were on the ground in between the two couches. There were also miscellaneous games and padded boxes that Ashlynn didn’t recognize, but one thing she did know for certain.

Heat was coming from somewhere. Based on the mild glow and the cord going from it to one of those padded boxes, Ashlynn guessed it was the reason there was any semblance of warmth anywhere here.

“Ashlynn!” Dorian’s face peered out from under one of the blankets on the couch as he gave a little wave. “Do you like it? It’s not done, but it will be. Want a grand tour?” Ashlynn spotted Soren not too far away unrolling some kind of plastic thing, so she elected to nod.

Dorian slipped out from the blankets and was at her side in a few simple steps, something Ashlynn would’ve had to short distance sprint to cross in the same amount of time.

“Okay, here you have the grand foyer. This is where we’ll have food and play some games and where the heater is pointed. That’s that thing over there,” Dorian explained.

“Heater? I thought…” Ashlynn’s confusion was evident and Rey, who was carrying in more blankets from Soren’s room, dropped everything to answer.

“Yeah! It needs electricity, but Soren has that covered. This thing here. It’s called a generator. It is like a big battery that Soren keeps charged in case we lose power. It also plays music and can make emergency Morse code signals if we’re in danger.” Rey was beaming with pride at his concise answer, and it earned him a scrutinized look from his brother.

“I was gonna explain that,” complained Dorian. “Any-who! That one there is my couch, so that’s where I’ll sleep. And that one there is Rey’s couch. That’s where he’ll sleep. He’ll probably also lose some of his toys in there because he always loses his toys in the couch.”

“I do not! Not always,” Rey claimed indignantly. “I can’t help it if I like working on my inventions before bed and… well… sometimes I fall asleep and sometimes things fall out of my hands, but that’s part of being an inventor, which… OH! It’s Christmas Eve! We can give you your thing!”

Rey scampered off while Dorian continued to talk about the entrance and how it’s important to have blankets in a particular order because, otherwise, you’ll still be cold even under a mountain of blankets. To Ashlynn’s surprise, she actually found this useful.

By the time Rey returned, Soren had lunch in bowls for all of them, even Ashlynn, as well as a cup of hot chocolate for each of them. It was the first time Ashlynn ever had anything like it. It was warm and sweet and made her insides toasty like warm soup. And then adding marshmallows? Something else she’d never tried?

A Borrower could die happy if this was their last meal.

They finished lunch and played a few games, which Dorian and Rey barely made it through because they were exhausted from sledding, and then decided to lay down while Soren cleaned up. It was admirable, seeing the way Soren diligently tended to his brothers, and Ashlynn couldn’t stop herself from staring as Soren came back and practically collapsed onto something they called an “air mattress.”

But it’s not made of air… just filled with it… whatever.

It was when they woke up that the real, as Rey called them, “reindeer games” actually started. They took turns having Ashlynn on their team as they played things like “Cadoo,” more Pictionary, Jenga which Ashlynn was especially good at since she could climb and maneuver the pieces so well, and a few others Ashlynn hadn’t heard of.

It was only after dinner, yet another meal Ashlynn found herself groaning over, that they celebrated Christmas Eve. Soren did something called praying, which Ashlynn had seen some other humans do, before he retrieved several boxes from under the tree, each wrapped in green or red wrapping paper. He handed three each to the boys and, to Ashlynn’s surprise, one to her.

“Sorry I don’t have the same to give like I do the boys,” apologized Soren. “It’s what I could come up with in time.” It was a beautifully wrapped blue package that was about as tall and as wide as herself. She worried it would be too big to bring back to her own home, but banished those thoughts as she poked a hole in the paper and tore away the sides.

It was a massive, fuzzy blanket with an elegant “A” stitched into the side which was about the size of her hand. One side was a blue checkered flannel and the other was a cloud like fluffy material that was softer than anything Ashlynn had ever touched before in her life.

“Y-you… made this? For me?” she asked, craning her neck to look up into Soren’s golden hazel eyes. The illumination of the flashlights and candles only accentuated the flecks of green in them.

“Yeah,” Soren muttered as he reached up and nervously scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry it’s not much. But…”

“I love it. I… I just…”

“Wait! What about ours!” Rey interrupted as he quickly snagged a flashlight and darted into the darkness of his bedroom.

“Mine too!” Dorian called as he raced after his brother.

Soren chuckled, completely unaware that they’d managed to pull something together, when he heard a little sniff by his knee. He honed in his attention onto Ashlynn, who was clutching the blanket to her chest and shivering slightly.

“Hey… Ashlynn. Are you okay? Did we… do something wrong?” asked Soren. Ashlynn shook her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and along her sleeve. Her voice barely carried through the air, and Soren had to leave over to hear Ashlynn’s mumblings.

“I just… I haven’t don’t anything to deserve this. You’re all just being… being so kind. It’s something I would never have thought a human would do for a B…” Ashlynn stopped herself short before continuing, not finishing the word she had in mind. “You know? You hear these stories about others getting captured or killed. It just makes you so afraid, and then someone like you comes along… all three of you… it’s just…”

“It’s a lot?” Soren ventured a guess after Ashlynn was silent for a minute. When she nodded, he continued. “Yeah, I can understand that. And, please, if this is too much all at once you can just tell us. It’s okay.”

“See? Stuff like that. You’re all just so understanding. I just… I wish there were more humans out there like you. I’d even take more like you for my kind if I’m being honest.” Soren felt a rush of flattery making the tips of his ears burn. It was nice to know his efforts were worth it and that she wasn’t feeling hostile or as secretive anymore.

“Well, as long as you’re comfortable, you’re always welcome. It’s quick, but it definitely feels like you’ve joined the crew, if that’s what you want,” offered Soren. Ashlynn, emotions running wild like a rampant tornado in a jar, found herself nodding. It had been so long since she’d been a part of something – part of a family – and having it happen so quickly only affirmed in her mind that it was meant to be.

“We’re back! Here, Ashlynn! Open mine first.”

“No, me!”

Dorian and Rey both presented their gifts, which were, at the very least, good efforts that showcased the boys’ charm. Dorian had made something that looked like a coat rack out of some pencils and rubber bands. He also claimed it could function as a makeshift tent as he draped a blanket over the edges.

Rey, on the other hand, had managed to create a type of “quick descending” device using a skillcraft lanyard zip and some extra fishing hooks. He was also working on a quick ascension device, but he was having trouble getting it to not lock up.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” It was true. Ashlynn felt at a loss for words to show her gratitude, but an idea came to mind that she knew she had to act on. She stood and, to each of the boys, she went over and hugged their fingers, seeing that was the only part of them she could actually get her hands around. Despite her body shaking with excitement and so many other emotions, she managed to hug and thank each of the brothers.

Soren’s gifts to the boys included one toy they’d both been asking for separately, which was a Lego set of their choosing, something that interested them independently, music box mixing for Dorian and an electronics kit for Rey, and something they could do together, which was two new card games. In exchange, Dorian gave Soren a tool kit with medical and practical supplies, which Soren knew he was getting since he purchased it, and Rey gifted him some homemade flashlight gloves and matching head mount for his flashlights.

So… this is Christmas. I like it, Ashlynn thought as she watched the brothers hug. They crawled into their prospective beds not too long after and, using her new “tent,” Ashlynn found herself turning in for bed too. Both Dorian and Rey were breathing softly in their makeshift beds under a warmed tent, obviously knocked out from the events of the day. Ashlynn wasn’t far behind. Her eyes were just beginning to unfocus when she heard Soren’s signature cough.

“Hey, Ashlynn? You awake?” asked Soren.

“Mm-hmm, yeah,” she replied, sleep saturating her voice. How much time had passed since the boys had fallen asleep? Was Ashlynn asleep? Or that odd twilight between awake and not?

“Thanks for spending Christmas with us, and thanks for checking out the house. You really saved a lot of time and eased my mind at least, and I know the boys would say they had a great time with you tonight. So, thanks.”

Soren’s voice was growing fainter with each passing word until he completely drifted off to sleep. Ashlynn wasn’t far behind. Sleep played at the edges of her vision, eyelids lulling like shades that wouldn’t pull down. Up. Down. Further down. Up again. Closed. Up.

Sleep beckoned her with open arms as she nestled deeper into the cocoon she’d made from the blanket Soren gifted to her. Weightless. Effortless.

It was everything she’d always wanted – to be part of a fam-…

*WHAM*

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue | Coming Soon

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

A Tall and Small Collection | Original Story

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stickdoodlefriend · 3 days ago

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🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮 Please?

64 sentences or 1K, whichever comes first, for you anon!

🔮Buck shows up to the shift—just thirty seconds after shift starts but not worrisome—but Ravi catches Chimney's concerned glance and the purpling hickeys on his collarbone as he strips down to change into his uniform. When he turns around, deep angry red marks clawed down his back make Ravi twist away quickly, averting his gaze.

Before they head off, Chimney off-handedly remarks, "You're missing your new jewelry. Late night?"

Ravi can't really decipher except the mean edge to it or even the fact Buck had jewellery, but Buck stiffens—his silhouette sharpening. "I'm not back to Buck 1.0, so you can run off to Maddie and report that," he snipes.

"It's not just Maddie who's worried alright."

Ravi watches like an unwilling spectator of a tennis match, except where the rules change half the time and the umpire never showed up. Something clicks in his head, and he blurts out, "You broke up with Tommy?"

They snap their heads towards Ravi suddenly remembering he is there, and Buck smiles and opens his arms for a hug—all trace of tension wiped, "Probie! You're on the A-shift?"

Ravi can't even feel annoyed for the whiplash-inducing mood shift which would seem fake if he hadn't known how Buck pours himself into whatever vessel people assign him to take its shape, regardless of the dark bags under Buck's eyes.

Ravi warms into the hug reluctantly when the first bell springs them apart and into action. His first shift back with the 118's A-shift and Ravi's back in the deep end: a four-alarm fire of a two-storey house with several deactivated smoke alarms and a kid trapped on the second floor.

"Buck, Ravi, assess the second floor for entry points. Chim and Hen, set up triage for the parents and kids."

Buck swings into action and shuts off his helmet's visor before dashing in. Ravi can only squint at the parents before shaking off the suspicion before hurrying off to follow Buck inside.

"LAFD, call out!" Ravi yells and hears only the crackling flames in response. The wood underneath the flooring groans as they shuffle up the stairs. The windows had been cut off with the curtains catching on fire.

Buck pounds on the first door, "I'm coming in," and kicks it down finding nothing but thick smoke built up. Ravi taps his SCBA to ensure a snug fit and swivels around.

Fire devours the house with hungry teeth, slicing the rafters above like butter. If the windows have been cut off, and black smoke in the hallways, oxygen would have sizzled out of every room now.

"Buck, we need to leave."

"Leave then. There's still a kid here," Buck snarls, clutching a bright red crutches in his hand that he found from who knows where.

"Ravi, Buck, pull out. Structural integrity is critical stage. Leave."

"This is Ravi. Copy."

"Buck, do you copy?" Bobby's voice comes through the static.

"I'm finding the kid, cap. He can't walk," Buck argues and kicks down another door.

The house trembles and groans and if only for a very strong sense of danger, danger, danger, move! Ravi flees to the end of the hallway just before a burning portion of the ceiling slams into the floor.

"Buck!" Ravi screeches across what feels like a fiery chasm of hell between them as Buck emerges out of the room with a limp figure on his arm and no SCBA on his mouth. The figure doesn't move and there's a high possibility the teenager is already dead, but Buck is on the move.

"Ravi take the stairs and leave," Buck rasps in between rough coughs and points to the stairs next to him. But between him and Buck is a wall of fire spanning at least fifteen feet and Buck can't clear that much with gear and the teenager.

"What about you?"

"We'll be fine. Go."

Ravi dashes downstairs, sending a quick prayer. He wills the beams and the flooring to hold still underneath his weight and makes it out of the door, just to hear Buck say, "I'm taking the window."

"The window is on fire."

Three seconds later when Ravi reaches the fire engine, a loud crash splinters the air and Ravi jolts. From the second floor, a dark silhouette stark against the flames burst through the window. The engine erupts into action, towards Buck's falling figure as he lands and twists to be himself to land on his back.

Bobby sprints to his side, startling like Ravi when he hears a whimper. Falling on his back from a height like this would be bad, possible paralysis bad. Then, a messy mop of head pops from Buck's turnouts.

The teenager, Ravi gasps in relief and opens Buck's turnouts to see the lanky pre-growth spurt teenager being dwarfed by Buck's massive frame shielded from burns from the jacket.

Buck's eyes are blown wide and he pants heavily, a mixture of surprise and adrenaline crashing down. Hen joins Bobby and Ravi to haul them up for triage.

Bobby sends Hen and Chim in the ambulance for the teenager, careful of his cast as they lay him on the stretcher, leaving Buck in the other with Bobby monitoring his vitals and Ravi assigned to drive.

From the thin press of Bobby's mouth, the tightness in Chimney's shoulders, and Hen's frown, Buck doesn't have many options to get out of trouble. Ravi is honestly relieved to be driving because he wants to yell too at his reckless, hare-brained actions that got them both nearly killed. Of course, Ravi was not going to leave his partner alone; it was a miracle that the kid survived and Buck knew that most likely they would be rescuing his corpse.

When they load Buck onto the stretcher, Bobby takes a sterile wipe and cleans off the soot around his face and places a high-flow oxygen mask on him. When Buck protests, Bobby silences him with a look, "Smoke inhalation. Follow the protocol."

Tagging! @sunflower-eddiediaz

Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed from the list!

#911 abc #evan buck buckely #911 #ravi pannikar #chimney han #bobby nash #hen wilson #Ravi as the earth and Buck as the water motif #buddie haunts the narrative and Ravi is an oblivious tenant in the first act

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mrs-barnes-rogers-writes · 21 hours ago

Text

The Return

(Follow up to the The Dream)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes (a hint of Stucky x reader)

Summary: Will 513 find her way home?

Warnings: Mentions of readers death / being missing in action in another multiverse, multiverse travel (if that's a warning???)

Follow up to The Dream. As request by @obsessedlilqueen

Reader in this insert is 513 Y/N.

"So your answer was to go to another universe and take their Y/N? And what? Destroy their lives instead?" Steve yelled.

"Look, we were looking at all options. You heard Strange. She's meant to be here. Yes, we looked at taking somewhere else's Y/N, and yes, we may have poked around and 616 may have found out. But she said they weren't together. You heard that right?" Tony replied.

"But that doesn't mean we should just take her, she's not our Y/N."

Tony went to answer again but was cut off by Bucky.

"She loved them though."

"But they weren't together." Tony pointed out again.

"But she loved them. She had that look in her eye. The look our Y/N got when she thought we didn't love her back, that we wouldn't want something with her."

Natasha who'd been silently observing confirmed Bucky's thoughts.

"I remember that look. I'd tried to convince her you felt the same, tell her to get her head out her ass. You'd all be making eyes at each other. You'd look at her like she'd hung the moon and still she'd doubt herself."

Bucky and Steve nodded.

"We didn't get long enough." Bucky muttered, looking down at his feet.

"So, we keep looking." Steve said, voice full of authority.

"Make sure you keep using that Captain voice Rogers, you know how she loves it." Nat replied playfully.

Steve shook his head, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. You really did like his Captain voice. He went to respond but was cut off by Sam and Clint entering the meeting room with purpose.

"You got something?" Steve asked. Clint and Sam exchanged a look.

"Not us. Coulson's team. Ecuador. Old Nazi basis." Clint tapped the Stark pad in his hand and projections showed round the room. It showed a mix of images. Labs, cells, rooms set up with medical equipment and a metal chair that looked all to familiar to Bucky.

"So Hydra then." Tony stated.

"Nope, good old fashioned Nazi's." Clint replied, tapping at the screen to show the old uniform and flags scattered around. "There's also very little in the shape of electricity and tech, they were running on the bare minimum."

"And anything that was there, that had any sort of energy is crumpled. All the hostiles are knocked out too." Sam added.

"What's this on the walls? Scorch marks?" Tony asked.

"According to Fitz and Simmons the heat is matchable to a volcano." Clint confirmed.

"Y/N can't do that." Tony pointed out.

"Johnny Storm can." Natasha replied. Steve's head snapped in Natasha's direction.

"Call them." He ordered. Natasha pulled her phone from her pocket and moved into the corridor. She entered one of the nearby rooms and asked FRIDAY to sound proof it.

"Anything else?" Steve asked.

"There's another base, like for like pretty much, in Paraguay. It's showing heat and energy flares. Coulson's team are on route, so are Danvers and Thor."

Steve and Bucky locked eyes.

"It's her Steve. I know it is."

"Sam, Clint. I want you going through these images looking for any sign, anything that she could have left us to find to let us know she was there." Steve ordered. "FRIDAY, get Vision down here and on this too."

Natasha came back into the room.

"What'd they say?" Steve asked.

"You're not going to like it." She replied. "Johnny's been gone for two weeks."

"WHAT?" "They didn't think to tell us." "That's bullshit man." Came from found the room.

"They only realised today."

"How is that possible?" Steve asked.

"Him and Sue got into another fight. He stormed out. He's been seeing an ex-SHIELD Agent. He said he was going to stay with her."

"Who's the Agent?" Tony asked.

"This is the part you won't like."

"Go on." Steve urged.

"The agent formerly known as Agent 13."

"So baby girl was right to be suspicious of her then." Sam added.

"Natasha." Steve said firmly.

"I've already put the call out."

"Whatever price you put on her head, double it." Tony said, an edge to his voice. Natasha nodded, telling him a certain merc with a mouth was already on the hunt and offering do it for free.

"Clint do we have an exact location?"

"It just came in." He confirmed and a map appeared, showing a flashing marker on the edge of the Chaco forest. Bucky turned to leave but was stopped as Vision and Wanda came in, partially blocking the doorway as Happy followed behind them with a parcel trolley, boxes pilled up. He huffed and pushed passed them, Steve trailing behind.

They all knew they'd probably be heading straight to the jet and they knew by now there was no point in asking them to wait. They'd follow once they'd ran through everything, checking again as they made there way to the location.

Happy took a quick look around the room, seeing the team deep in work and hoping it was something to do with you.

"Sorry to interrupt boss, but where do you guys want these ten thousand tea bags?" He asked Tony.

"I haven't ordered any...." He voice trailed off. "Wait, what did you say?"

"There's ten thousand tea bags. There's also a crate of biscuits. Chocolate too, Cadbury's I think. Shall I put them upstairs or over the drinks stations too."

"WHO ORDERED THESE???!!!" Tony yelled.

"It's on your credit card boss." Happy replied, looking at the delivery paperwork. The team fell silent and looked around at each other. There was only one person that would order tea in such large amount and would have the balls to use Tony' credit card.

A click out in the corridor had them looking around Happy towards the sound. Vision stepped around him, eyes drawn to the drinks station. Amongst the fancy coffee machine, various types of snacks and a fridge full of different milks, sat a cheap looking electric kettle. Tony hated it. It didn't match anything and looked out of place, he'd told you. You'd told him the water from the coffee machine wasn't right and plugged it anyway. A year on and he couldn't move it. Vision turned towards the team and smiled.

"Someone appears to have put the kettle on."

______________________________________________________________

"I don't care if she's Peggy's niece Steven, if she's hurt our girl. She's dead. It'll be the soldier she meets, not me."

Steve wasn't going to disagree, but part of him wanted to know why Sharon had done this. How was she involved? Was this about him? You? Her pardon taking longer than theirs? He couldn't be sure. Would she really damage Peggy's legacy like this? Or was that the issue? Would she always be in her shadow? Steve followed Bucky onto the jet and started to change into his gear, Bucky barking orders at the AI to get them in the air as soon as possible. Steve turned towards the front of the jet as he pulled on the top of his stealth suit, wanting to check FRIDAY had the correct location. Bucky continued to ready himself, strapping on weapons and muttering under his breath. It was then as Steve listened to his mutterings and checking the screens of the jet, that he saw something flash by the corner of his eye. Something bright, flying and moving at speed.

He looked to where it had travelled to but was blocked by the positioning of another quinjet. Then it flashed by again. Steve is sure the figure salutes him as it goes by. Johnny Storm.

Steve turned and is met with Bucky's wide eyes. No words are exchanged as they both turn and rush of the jet. They ignore the clatter of the compound doors and the team rushing out, shouting something about tea and biscuits. They rush around the line of quinjets and out to the grassy field that ran alongside the compound. Now overgrown because Steve couldn't stand the sound of the mower, his mind busy with thoughts of you, it hadn't been cut in months. It blew in the breeze, swaying as though it was the sea. The sun was shining so bright that they both had to squint their eyes, as they came out of the shadow of the building. Steve positioned his arm to block the sun, as Bucky mimicked his actions at his side. They scanned the field and their eyes found the spot where Johnny looked to have stopped. The exact same spot 616 had disappeared from as she'd left.

Standing with her head tilted up to the sun, hair matted, stealth suit scorched and covered in dust, dirt, blood and grime stood their girl. They watched as she let out a shuddered breath as her hand skimmed through the grass.

Bucky gasped.

"My god." Steve whispered.

Your eyes snapped to theirs, and then you were moving towards them, a limp in your run and a sob in your throat. They sprinted towards you. It took seconds from them to reach you but to Steve and Bucky it felt like you were moving in slow motion.

Reaching each other, you fell into their arms. Sobs of relief, questions of where you had been and what had happened filled the air.

You were home. Reunited and back where you needed to be.

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #avengers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #avengers au #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve x reader x bucky #stucky x reader

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