#the furrowed brow line gets stuck in my head all the time (affectionate) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

suna-reversed · 4 years ago

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Jujutsu Kaisen hcs- “please don’t leave”

alt. title- needy late night moments

Characters- Yuji, Gojo, Sukuna, Megumi

Tags- angst if you squint but mainly fluff

Yuji-

- You fell asleep on him while watching a horror movie late night.

- His one hand clutched the popcorn bowl, the other coming around to cradle your head subconsciously as your body slumped over into his side.

- His main task for the next hour was to not move a single muscle in fear you’d wake up and go inside the bedroom to sleep.

- He’s just been a little touch starved and liked the warmth you were radiating.

- His task proves to be quite difficult considering he was watching a horror movie with jump-scares every two minutes.

- It takes 5 failed attempts at Yuji trying not to jolt up whenever something pops up for you to finally stir awake, and you find your eyes meeting with the absolutely terror filled ones of your lover.

- “Please don’t leave” he whispers in a voice that makes your heart break. You end up taking that as him being scared of the movie

- Still in a sleepy daze, you crawl over into his lap, affectionately nosing at his neck while his strong arms come around to hold you tightly,

- “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here mmkay?” A smile of pure tenderness forms across Yuji’s face, soon enough turning into choking laughter as you sleepily mumble, “I’m ready to throw hands with them dead people”

- “Zombies, babe. They’re zombies.”

- “The only thing they’ll be once I’m done with them is...dead” You slur out that last part, falling back into slumber with a small smile on your face as you feel Yuji shake with silent laughter, his hand coming up to gently pat the back of your head,

- “Thank you baby, I’d throw hands with zombies for you any-day too.”

Gojo Satoru

- You rolled over in the empty bed for the thousandth time that night. You had learned long before that on most nights you’ll be sleeping without your Satoru.

- So what was different today? Maybe it was the fact that he had informed you of his return. But it had been 2 days since then, and Gojo had never not shown up the same day that he’d told you he was coming back.

- Despite knowing the man you loved was practically undefeatable by most, your mind had considered every single possibility, from him getting captured by a curse to him tripping over and falling into an abandoned sewage line.

- Your stomach churned with anxiety as you considered whether calling Nanami this late to check on Gojo would be a good idea.

- You were halfway into typing his number when you heard the familiar click of the door unlocking, your feet carrying you to the front door faster than your mind could process it.

- And there he was. The bag of sweets he gets you each time in his left hand as he apprehended you with a raised brow and cocky look,

- “Couldn’t sleep without me sweetheart?”

- He was met with eerie silence as you continued to stare at him. Your sleep deprived mind still processing that he was home. He was safe.

- Gojo immediately sensed that something was wrong, but before he could react, you were walking towards him, crashing into his arms as he brought his hands around you when-

Thump!

- Did you just...punch his chest?

- “I was- I was so scared” you sniffed into his chest. “...you idiot.”

- Gojo’s heart twisted in pain as he heard a sob escape you, his arms tightening around you as he rested his chin on your head. He let you cry it out, gently picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom in midst of you murmuring various swear words at him

- He finally felt you beginning to calm down as he tucked you in the on your side of the bed. But, as he pulled away, he felt a hand clutch onto his wrist,

- “Please don’t leave” you said, your voice quivering.

- “Baby...” he said with a gentle voice, “I’m just going to go change, okay? I’m not going anywhere”

- Even as Gojo changed, he felt your eyes digging into his back like he’d disappear if you let him out of sight for even a moment.

- He quickly pulled on a pair of sweats, opting to not wear a shirt as he moved into bed with you, your limbs immediately coming to wrap around him.

- You laid in silence for a while

- “y/n?” You hummed in acknowledgement, face still buried in his chest

- “I’m always going to come back home to you my love. That’s a promise okay?”

- You nodded in response, eyes turning glassy once more as Gojo leaned forward to pepper kisses all over your forehead, cheeks, and nose.

- Gojo lifted his blindfold as he felt your breathing slow down, his ocean eyes filled with utmost adoration as he simply let himself admire your sleeping form.

Sukuna

- The curse found itself being stuck in its vessel at the most useless of times. -

- After a late night mission when the brat crashed at your surveillanced apartment, while you completed the formalities and paperwork to submit to Nanami the next morning.

- Walking out of the guest room, Sukuna found himself amused by your ability to fall asleep in the weirdest of places

- Currently, you sat hunched over the kitchen table, head resting sideways in your arms, tiny snores leaving your mouth as your eyes remained shut.

- The curse looked back to a few days ago when it had found itself in it’s vessel’s body unwillingly again, a strange warmth curled in his left side. Looking down, he had realised that the strange warmth came from your huddled up body.

- You had immediately snapped open your eyes and moved away as soon as he had let out a low chuckle.

- So this time, he approached you carefully. But even then, he had expected you to sense someone’s presence so close next to you.

- But there was no reaction from you, even as he pulled the chair right next to you and sat down on it.

- “Oi brat”

- Still no response.

- Oh, had you finally let your guard down?

- A dozen different malicious ideas filled Sukuna’s mind, but he found himself simply sitting there, awaiting for a reaction from you.

- He wondered how you could sleep so comfortably on what was practically a wooden slab. And he found his answer questioned as he curiously leaned down on his own arms, facing you, your noses merely an inch away as he regarded your calm face with a raised brow.

- He had imagined you to be snarky and biting at him even in your sleep.

- Why had he imagined you sleeping at all?

- He found himself avoiding the question.

- He stilled as your eyes fluttered open, a cocky smile making it’s way on his lips as he awaited your fear filled eyes.

- Instead, he found you simply staring back at him, the most of a reaction being you furrowing your brows slightly

- He didn’t know whether he was a little offended by your lack of response or highly unsettled by your piercing gaze. Nonetheless, he found himself turning his head away, almost in a petty childlike manner.

- Why did he not get up and leave?

- He felt a hand come to the back of his head, and his senses instantly got ready to go into offensive mode.

- But this was something much much worse than an attack.

- He found your fingers gently brush over his hair, almost like you were absorbing it’s softness into your fingertips. The breaking point was you gently scratching his head with your nails. He almost purred.

- But he also found his own hand coming up to grip your wrist, stilling your hand in place.

- “What-are-you-doing?” He emphasised each word as he turned his towards you again, hand still holding yours above his head.

- You continued to stare at him with a look he didn’t quite understand,

- “Your hair is...soft” You slurred your words a little, wiggling your fingers that were trapped in his hand. He let go, only to find you entangling your hand back into his hair, quite shamelessly this time as you closed your eyes once again.

- He didn’t know whether it was the tiredness of that night or simply your sleepiness, but you didn’t acknowledge it the next day. He chose not to either even though he had spent all night thinking of how he’d get to tease you with this.

- But, the king of curses did find himself leaning more towards you whenever you were in his presence. Your hand brushing with his every now and then. Him gently tugging on a strand of hair before tucking it behind your ear and you letting him. Staying right there if he woke up with you on his shoulder while on the train back from a mission.

- Eventually, you show up to Yuji’s room on a day much similar to the night where you first touched the curse, eyes sunken and shoulders slumped, desperate for any sort of comfort and almost relieved at the fact that he was there.

- He was taken back as you climbed into the bed, arms wrapping around him, hands going straight to tangle themselves in his hair as you buried your face in his chest.

- “Please don’t leave”

- He found his own arms pulling you further into him because who was he to deny you when your touch felt so divine?

Megumi

- Getting a call from Megumi at 2 am after you had just returned from a mission was the last thing you had expected

- Megumi had grown considerably close to you for a boy who didn’t always wear his emotions on his sleeve.

- However, perhaps it was the fact that you had ended up giving him a tiny huge scare by going missing for a few hours on the mission

- It wasn’t anything major, you had gotten injured and accidentally strayed off the path you were ordered to follow

- Nonetheless, the news had reached the school, particularly Megumi, who was halfway out, ready to go and save you from whatever had taken you when the message had come that they had found you unconscious in some corner of the forest. He had only left the infirmary after being assured countless times that you were fine and being pulled away by Yuji.

- Still, he found his mind running and all he wanted was to hear your voice to make sure you were okay.

- He honestly hadn’t expected you to pick up, but he hadn’t known that the nurse had allowed you to go back to your dorm once you woke up.

- So he found himself speechless as he heard your voice

- “...Megumi? Is everything okay?”

- “Yes” he murmured.

- “The nurse told me you were there with me for quite a while…”

- There was a beat of silence before he said,

- “You scared me”

- He immediately hung up after that.

- You knew that it was difficult for him to express such emotions and so you found your feet carrying you to the front of his door

- You weren’t exactly sure of what you were going to do, but you didn’t have to figure that out as the door opened in your face, Megumi gesturing for you to come in.

- As soon as you shut the door, you felt your body being pulled into his warm embrace. You sighed, taking in his familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

- You eventually ended up on his bed, limbs tangled with each other under the sheets as he traced random patterns onto your arm to convey the words he couldn’t say, till he fell asleep.

- You found yourself noticing the time, sighing as you got ready to go back to your dorm, but Megumi noticed the slight movement,

- “Angel...” he murmured sleepily, nuzzling his head into your neck, “Please don’t leave.”

- Your heart melted at his words and the consequences of sleeping in another student’s room seemed to fade from your mind as you tightened your grip on him,

- “Never”

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latibvles · 2 years ago

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I am having ✨A Week✨ so could I pretty please put in a request for some soft Liebgott x Reader with the "wiping your tears" one? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

I hope this makes you feel a little better my sweet. I love u soo much !! <3333

WIPING YOUR TEARS — JOE LIEBGOTT / send a gesture from this list!

You didn’t see yourself as much of a crier. You tried to keep a lid on things most days — because being in the military was already an unforgiving circumstance. There was no room for tears or sensitivities when a war raged on overseas. The men around you wouldn’t break, and so neither would you.

That was what you told yourself, anyway.

You don’t know if the tears welling in your eyes are of frustration, despair, exhaustion, or an amalgamation of the three. Regardless, no amount of jaw-clenching nor measured breath could stave them off, so you find yourself sitting on the side of the trail up Currahee, head pressed against one of the trees lining the dirt road. Each breath you take is a measured thing, your body aches, and tears roll freely down your face as you scramble for the shards of your composure.

This will pass, you try to remind yourself, I’ve just gotta—

“Y/N?”

You shift your gaze upwards. Joseph Liebgott stands over you. You watch as a million emotions run across his face, before he settles on anger. That same sort of contained rage he maintains when trying not to mouth off to Sobel.

“Who made you—”

“No one,” you quickly cut him off, trying to wipe away your tears. It’s a futile attempt. They don’t stop coming and he’s already seen them. His face relaxes into that of more bearable concern. He walks over and sits beside you, uncharacteristically quiet. “It’s just… a lot. Okay? Don’t worry about it.” His brows furrow at that statement, disapproval blatant on his face. Even if he wasn’t saying anything, he did very little to mask when he was annoyed, elated, or otherwise felt strongly about something.

You’d met Joe Liebgott on the train to Toccoa. Since then, you two have stuck by each other. Most of the time he was a good friend. Sometimes it felt like more than that. You weren’t sure what to make of it, if you were being completely honest with yourself.

He raises a hand, and in a display of brief tenderness, you feel his fingers graze your cheek, wiping away some of your tears.

“Don’t you tell me not to fuckin’ worry about it, you got that?” It’s half-scolding, mostly affectionate. You raise a brow at him, but he seems pretty dead set on this. “M’always gonna fuckin’ worry about it. Hate seeing you all torn up like this. So get used to it.” He leaves no room for objection, so all you can do is laugh, half-heartedly, at his stubborn demeanor.

In another rare display of tenderness, he gives you not a smirk, but a genuine, warm smile.

#squishes Liebgott like a whoopee cushion #slowly but surely getting his voice down pat #I love u so much my dear #poet’s mail box #poe’s pals #joe liebgott x reader #Joe liebgott #band of brothers #band of brothers fic #ficlet

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silv3rswirls · 3 years ago

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Another member confesses to their s/o

Anon asks: Can I request a bts reaction where you're dating them, but another member drunkenly tells you they have a crush on you

Note: I changed things up a little, as not all the members are drunk in their parts, hopefully, you don’t mind!

Warnings: Drinking, slight angst

♡Seokjin♡

You celebrated Bangtan’s recent success with their new album with the rest of the group at their dorm. It was small, nothing too wild but some of the members had been drinking; Jungkook being one of them. You had been hanging out with him and Jin for the majority of the party, but at some point, Jungkook had disappeared and Jin excused himself to the restroom just now, so you found yourself standing alone as you waited.

The other members weren’t around. Yoongi and Jimin had turned in for the night and Taehyung wasn’t in sight. You could hear Namjoon and Hoseok talking in the kitchen, but other than that you were sitting alone on your phone. You had been happy to look up and see Jungkook making his way back to where you were sitting on the sofa. You smiled as he plopped down beside you, ready to ask him where he had gone, but you were stunned to silence when he took hold of your shoulders and kissed you. You could taste the alcohol on his lips as his hand moved to hold the side of your face. It was clear the youngest wasn’t in his right state of mind, so you calmly tried to push him away. You’d talk to him about it in the morning when he was sober, but at the moment he didn’t seem to want to let go. His grip on you grew just a bit too tight for you to wiggle from.

Luckily Jin returned just in time. “Jungkook?” He asked, shock clear in his tone as he rushed up to you. “What’s wrong with you!” He shouted, shoving his bandmate back and taking your hand. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“It’s fine Jin, he’s drunk. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

“No, I like you” Jungkook pressed, his voice a tad slurred. “I really like you Y/n, I have since the day I met you.”

Jin’s face had turned red in anger and part embarrassment to have his member and friend confessing so blatantly to his girlfriend. He had been the one to introduce you to Jungkook after you began dating. Had Jungkook held his feelings for you for that long? Jin was ready to start yelling again, but Namjoon had stepped in to take Jungkook away.

♡Yoongi♡

Yoongi had always known Jimin had a small crush on you. It was obvious, to him at least. He chose not to say anything though, believing Jimin's little puppy crush would fade with some time, and up until this moment, Yoongi thought it had.

Yoongi had been looking for you in the new hybe building, it was your first time visiting his new studio in the building so it was only natural you got turned around like so many others when they first moved in. Yoongi left to find you, knowing exactly where you were with your puzzled description. He rounded the corner to find you waiting, Jimin standing in front of you blocking Yoongi’s view. Something about Jimin's hushed voice made Yoongi a bit nervous and as he walked up to the two of you he felt his stomach drop.

“I’ve known for a long time that I like you...I just need to get these feelings off my chest or I’ll-” “You think this is funny Jimin?” Yoongi asked, having calmly placed a hand on the younger’s shoulder and pulled him away. “You think it’s right to confess to my girlfriend?”

Jimin merely watched you and Yoongi with wide eyes. “I just-”

Yoongi shook his head, he had never wanted to have to confront him on this. He had hoped Jimin would drift away from you, especially when you were always at Yoongi’s side; affectionate and loving. For now, Yoongi sent Jimin away. To his dismay and anger, he would have to talk to him about this later.

♡Hoseok♡

You had been sitting with Yoongi in his studio when it happened. Your’s and Hoseok’s third anniversary was coming and you had wanted to do something extra special and meaningful. So, you turned to Yoongi for help writing and composing a song for him. You had thought it a cute idea, personal and special and Yoongi had been happy to help you. But now, the song was done and ready to be given to Hoseok that weekend. After all your hard work you and Yoongi had decided to celebrate a little, just with a few drinks. Yoongi wasn’t drunk, maybe a little buzzed but you were still sober as the two of you sat and talked away the evening.

“I should get going, it’s getting late.” You smiled and began to collect your things, while Yoongi watched you. “Thanks again for helping, I know it’ll mean a lot to-”

“Don’t” Yoongi spoke up, sitting up and moving closer to you.

“Don’t what?” Your brow furrowed in confusion, even more so when you felt Yoongi’s hand rest on your thigh.

“I’ve known you for a long time before you and Hoseok even got together.” He began, voice a little heavy from the drinks. “I’ve always liked you” he murmured, eyes half-lidded as he moved in closer for a kiss. Immediately you stopped him, pressed a hand to his chest, and stood up.

“Yoongi...no Hoseok’s your friend, you can’t- I need to go.” You had swallowed the lump in your throat and finished grabbing your things, hurrying to get home.

You told Hoseok right away, feeling it wrong not to. He had gotten angry, especially knowing that Yoongi had done this after helping you with your anniversary gift to him. He stewed in his silent frustration all night, confronting Yoongi the next day.

“I trust you with her, how could you try something?” He asks, not ready for any of Yoongi’s excuses or apologies.

♡Namjoon♡

You had come down with a cold and Namjoon was too busy to stay and look after you, so he asked Jin to check up on you now and again until he got back. Jin was happy to, acting as an attentive and caring friend for both of you. He makes you soup and keeps track of when you were supposed to take your medicine. Fetched water and extra blankets when you needed them, he even stuck around to talk and watch a movie when you lamented your sadness over Namjoon not being able to be with you.

Something about it had tugged Jin’s heartstrings in a different way. Jin had always liked you, thought you were cute and sweet, but obviously never allowed himself to cross any lines. You were Namjoon’s, not his.

But right now Namjoon wasn’t here and Jin struggled to think straight.

“Hey” Jin smiled, voice soft as he brushed your hair away to feel your hot forehead. “Still running a fever.” He frowned. You only hummed weakly, arms wrapped around a pillow as you tried to ignore the headache and hate feeling.

“I wish Namjoon was here” you pouted, Jin was great and ever so attentive, but nothing beat the presence of your boyfriend.

“He should be,” Jin muttered if you were his partner he wouldn’t think twice about staying home when you were in such a state. He got you a cool washcloth, returning to find you asleep, the covers kicked away as you restlessly slept. Jin could help the fond smile on his face as he tucked you back in. Before leaving, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, the reality that he had really done that didn’t set in until he turned to find Namjoon in the doorway, a stuffed bear and your favorite takeout in hand.

Namjoon’s lips pressed to a line as he tried to contain his outrage. “We’ll talk about this later.” He states, voice icy and he ushers Jin away and takes his place at your beside. Jin can only hang his head in shame as he leaves.

♡Jimin♡

When Jimin found Taehyung and you locked in a kiss, his temper had gotten the best of him. He shouted and yelled at Taehyung, who had quietly admitted to being the reason behind the kiss. You had no part of it, Taehyung had just acted on his impulses. “I just couldn’t help it, I really like-”

“What do you think you’re doing with my partner Taehyung? They’re with me. You’re supposed to be my friend, how can you just kiss them?” Jimin’s seething, one of his closest friends had just made a move on his partner. “I don’t want to hear it!” He snaps when Taehyung tries to reason with him, “Get out of here!”

Jimin’s angry at him for a long time. One of his best friends had betrayed his trust and confessed to you, how could he not be angry? He avoids Taehyung as much as he can, not speaking with him for the time being. Taehyung is earnest in his apology to you and to Jimin but accepts that Jimin needs his time.

There’s a deep rift between the two of them.

♡Taehyung♡

It broke your heart when Hoseok casually let it slip that he had been harboring feelings for you. You stood mouth agape and unsure of what to say, especially when Taehyung was just in the other room. “Hobi...I appreciate it, but I’m with Taehyung.” You wore a deep frown, while Hoseok was still trying to recover from letting his secret slip.

“No, I need to be the one apologizing...I don’t know what came over me. I’ve just felt so strongly for you-”

“You heard her. She’s with me, she doesn’t want you.” Taehyung was frowning deeply, eyes hard as he glared at Hoseok. You could see the anger from Taehyung clear as day, but it was also easy to spot the hurt behind his eyes.

“Taehyung-”

“Leave us alone!” He snaps, turning to you instead. You both let Hoseok go, everyone clearly needing time to think about what had just happened.

“Tae,” you murmured, “he didn’t mean it.” “He did.” Taehyung argued, “I know he did, it’s so easy to tell he’s in love with you.” You stay quiet, but spend the evening comforting your hurt boyfriend.

♡Jungkook♡

It was late and things were getting a bit too wild. Everyone was having fun, drinking, and talking the night away. Jungkook had been occupied with Jimin and Taehyung, while you and Namjoon had hit it off for the night. You were both drunk, giggling and talking your time away. At some point, Namjoon’s hand had found yours and the drunken flirting began. You had giggled and gone back and forth with the leader of Bagntan, too far gone to really think clearly.

Unfortunately, Jungkook had been looking for you when he heard Namjoon tell you how beautiful you were and how much he had always liked you. As if Jungkook didn’t exist, it didn't even cross his mind as Namjoon leaned in to leave a quick kiss on your lips. You had hesitated even in your drunk state, but as quickly as the kiss happened you both forgot about it, going back to playful banter and laughs.

Jungkook didn’t say anything to Namjoon until that morning when the leader came to him to confess and apologize for doing it. He accepted it and when you did the same he accepted yours as well. However; he couldn’t quite get how comfortable and well the two of you had meshed that night. He’s scared to admit it to even himself, but he’s worried that Namjoon might’ve stolen your heart that night.

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the-widow-sisters · 3 years ago

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Hi! I recently heard about these giant kinds of half blanket/half sweatshirt things called comfy sweatshirts and they immediately reminded me of Yelena. I can just picture her walking around in one of those and being, like, “I’m in a giant pocket!” Maybe Yelena wears it day and night for a week and she won’t take it off because she likes it so much and it annoys Natasha to no end. Thanks!

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I really enjoyed writing it! Your request actually introduced me to the blanket sweater, and I think I want one for myself now 😂 I want a giant, happy pocket to live in 🤣💕

Also, you guys might not have noticed, but I’ve been referencing Encanto’s “We Don’t Talk About Bruno” a lot in my fics recently, lol (I referenced it in this one) It’s because it gets miserably stuck in my head every time I hear it 😅

I hope you enjoy! 🥰

Word Count: 4738

Natasha carefully loaded the laundry into the washing machine, absent-mindedly humming that accursed “We Don’t Talk About Bruno” song that Yelena had been driving her crazy with ever since the movie was released.

“Seven-foot frame, rats along his back, when he calls your name, it all fades to black… Great… It’s stuck in my head again,” Natasha muttered to herself. It was always that one line of the song that stuck with her, and she had no idea why. Of course, a part of her was honestly wondering why Yelena had not gotten up yet and was not bursting into the room singing the song herself.

Yelena had been sleeping for an exceedingly long time this morning and Natasha had already gotten started on laundry since they were running out of clean clothes to wear. She figured that she would end up taking a break whenever Yelena woke up so that she could make breakfast for the blonde.

However, there was a sudden creak of the floor behind her and she could hear a soft chuckle not too far behind her.

Natasha grinned a little as she realized that Yelena was finally awake and coming to see her. Natasha remained in place, expecting Yelena’s arms to wrap around her as they did every morning. Yelena was always big on her morning hugs, and each morning without fail, she would grab onto Natasha in her barely awake state and hug her around the middle, her cheek or nose squishing against Natasha’s back sleepily.

However, Natasha furrowed her brow as she suddenly realized that Yelena was not hugging her. Natasha was about to turn around and see if everything was alright with her when her vision was suddenly obstructed by something soft and warm.

Natasha stumbled backward a little bit, trying to catch her balance in the midst of this fabric that had been flung over her when she suddenly collided with a warm body. Strong arms wrapped around her middle from outside the cocoon she was in, and Natasha’s back was pressed against Yelena’s torso as the blonde laughed at her.

Once Natasha had gotten her balance, Yelena pulled at the fabric surrounding them so that Natasha’s head popped out of the neck hole alongside Yelena’s own. Natasha turned in the embrace, and she was soon nose-to-nose with her baby sister. Yelena had a giant, sleepy grin and her eyes were filled with mischief despite the fact that her eyelids were drooping.

“Hi. Welcome to my happy pocket,” Yelena greeted sillily, and Natasha rolled her eyes affectionately, moving her face upward to kiss the tip of Yelena’s nose gently.

“Good morning, you little goofball,” Natasha replied to her softly, smiling in fond exasperation as she looked at her baby sister, taking in the girl’s attire.

The previous day, Natasha and Yelena had gone to Walmart, and they had spotted this sweater-blanket combination. As soon as Yelena saw it, she just had to have it, insisting that it was like a giant pocket. And of course, Natasha was never good at saying no to her baby sister, so they ended up purchasing it, and Yelena had not taken it off since they bought it and she had an opportunity to shrug it on in the car.

“Come cuddle,” Yelena quickly demanded in her typical manner as she just stared at the redhead. Natasha chuckled, shaking her head as her nose rubbed against Yelena’s with the movement. Yelena grinned a little, an adoration shining in her eyes that almost overtook the wickedness in her gaze.

“Don’t you want breakfast?” Natasha questioned with a laugh, and Yelena thought about it for a moment. Natasha knew that choosing between cuddles and food was never an easy choice for Yelena. She really was like a puppy in that way.

But Yelena would positively die on the spot if Natasha ever pointed that out, so she kept that observation to herself, a smile playfully tugging at her lips.

“Can’t we do both?” Yelena finally questioned, and Natasha nodded in agreeance.

“Yeah. But separately. I have to have my arms free to fix breakfast for you,” Natasha tickled Yelena’s sides playfully, and Yelena squeaked as she quickly clamped her arms against herself, her hands on Natasha’s waist from outside the blanket sweater.

Yelena furrowed her brow in thought for a moment before suddenly brightening with an idea. Yelena quickly drew her hands in from her sleeves so that they were inside the giant sweater blanket, and she grabbed Natasha’s hands, guiding her toward the arm holes. Natasha raised an eyebrow at her.

“Turn around and put your arms through the holes, and I’ll stay right here behind you for cuddles,” Yelena suggested, and Natasha let out a deep sigh, shaking her head before pressing a two gentle kisses to Yelena’s cheeks just underneath her eyes.

“Fine,” Natasha agreed finally, turning and trying to put her arms through the holes. Soon enough, she had gotten her arms through and Yelena had her nose stuffed in the back of her neck, nuzzling into her with a grin as her arms snaked around Natasha’s waist.

“Told you it would work,” Yelena smugly declared, and Natasha simply huffed.

“I never said it wouldn’t,” Natasha replied easily, turning her head slightly to try to look at her baby sister. Yelena shrugged, gently dragging her nose across Natasha’s neck.

“I could hear you thinking it,” Yelena claimed, and Natasha smirked a little before starting to shuffle out of the laundry room and to the kitchen.

“You didn’t know what you heard. But just for the record, if you step on my heel, I’m making you sit at the table and wait for me so we can cuddle later,” Natasha threatened, her words only half-serious as she addressed the cuddle-bug clinging to her back.

“You wouldn’t,” Yelena shot back, just hanging on tighter, and Natasha rolled her eyes in response, playfully grumbling something under her breath.

And indeed she did not. Even when Yelena stepped on her heel at least five times.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Okay, Kate… You need to grab my hand and use the momentum of your block to twist over and lock your legs around me,” Natasha explained, and Kate nodded a little, her tongue poking out just barely as she concentrated. Natasha chuckled under her breath at the sight of it, and Kate looked a little lost for a moment, trying to decipher what was so funny as she slowly brought her tongue back inside her mouth.

“What?” Kate asked, her tone somewhat bedraggled as she replied. Natasha knew the girl was growing close to her limit. After all, they had already gone several rounds with Natasha correcting her gently and offering her suggestions, and Kate was no doubt exhausted from the workout. Clint did not ordinarily go for as long as Natasha pushed Kate, Natasha and Kate

“Nothing, just… Your tongue sticks out when you’re concentrating,” Natasha commented, and Kate suddenly blushed as she resolutely shut her mouth, keeping her lips firmly clamped together as she got into a fighting position.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie,” Natasha chuckled, and Kate’s lips loosened a little as she relaxed a bit.

“Yeah, nothing to be ashamed of. That is, until somebody punches you in the mouth and you bite it off,” Yelena’s voice sounded off wickedly not too far behind them. Kate looked somewhat horrified as she gaped behind Natasha at the blonde.

Natasha looked back at Yelena with a playful glare, happy to see her sister despite Yelena’s relentless teasing of Kate. She almost groaned as she realized Yelena had the accursed sweater blanket on again.

Ever since she had managed to get cuddles and breakfast all at the same time, Yelena had not taken off the sweater blanket even once except to shower. Even worse, Yelena had been using the sweater blanket to spring cuddles on Natasha at the most inconvenient times, usually when Natasha was trying to work or do something responsible. It was not that she minded her sister cuddling with her, but it made it really hard to focus on her work when Yelena would randomly throw the thing over her head for cuddles.

“What are you wearing?” Kate asked curiously, sounding almost as if she might laugh at Yelena’s clothing choice, and Yelena immediately narrowed her eyes.

“A sweater-blanket,” Yelena declared boldly, daring Kate to say anything negative about it.

“Oh,” Kate replied simply as her voice wavered with mirth, and she nodded, her lips drawn tightly in an attempt to keep from laughing aloud.

“You laughing at me, Kate Bishop?” Yelena asked, a threat in her voice, and Kate shook her head quickly, holding her hands up in a placating gesture.

“No! No, it looks very sophisticated. Really comfy,” Kate assured her quickly, backtracking as quickly as she could. Yelena just harrumphed as she leaned on the side of the ring, and Natasha offered her fist to Kate, initiating another fight.

The two of them went at it again, and when Natasha threw a punch at her, Kate quickly grabbed, trying her best to move her legs up with her momentum and grab at Natasha. However, Kate failed miserably, losing her balance midway and only successfully managing to hook her foot around the back of Natasha’s neck barely before hitting the floor hard.

Natasha almost laughed at the ridiculously wide-eyed, uncertain look on Kate’s face as she gaped up at the redhead. Her mouth was slightly agape as she gasped for air and tried to regain her breath.

Natasha extended her hand to help the kid up, a chuckle accidentally escaping her as she looked down at her affectionately. Kate reached out, taking it, and Natasha pulled her into a sitting position. Kate took a few deep breaths before letting Natasha pull her up the rest of the way.

“Wanna go another round?” Natasha offered, and Kate shook her head breathlessly, those gunmetal blues eyeing Natasha fondly despite her exhaustion.

“No, I think I’m good for now… I’m gonna go get a shower,” Kate told her, jabbing a thumb behind her as she rubbed at her back where she had fallen a couple of times that day. Natasha nodded to her, opening her arms questioningly for a hug, and Kate brightened immediately, stepping into her embrace eagerly as she wrapped her arms around her softly.

“I’m proud of you. You did really good today,” Natasha praised softly, hopefully too quiet for Yelena to pick up on. Kate��s arms tightened in acknowledgement, understanding the need for silence, and Natasha pulled away from her soon after.

“Now that you’re done with her, I want to have a round with you,” Yelena spoke up suddenly, and Natasha raised an eyebrow as she looked back at her baby sister. Yelena was standing there adorably in her goofy sweater blanket, bundled up in it like a small child as she looked at Natasha with a challenge in her eyes.

Natasha could not keep a straight face, and she grinned at the girl, enjoying Yelena’s adorableness way too much to actually take her seriously.

“You gonna take off the giant pocket?” Natasha questioned playfully, and Yelena scoffed at her as she launched herself over the side of the ring, landing remarkably gracefully considering the large amount of fabric surrounding her. Kate moved out of the ring but did not leave the room, wanting to see the match for herself.

“No. Why? Do you feel threatened by it, poser?” Yelena asked cockily, and Natasha shook her head with a smirk as she realized Yelena already had gloves on. Natasha reached a hand out to touch her fist to Yelena’s.

“No. I was just thinking that I’ve got an unfair advantage now,” Natasha claimed with a grin, and Yelena narrowed her eyes wickedly, the thrill of the fight in her eyes as she resolutely bumped her fist against Natasha’s.

“You’d be surprised,” Yelena replied ominously, and Natasha readied herself for her sister’s first move.

However, to her pure surprise, Yelena suddenly threw the blanket over Natasha’s head. Natasha fought back against it, trying to keep Yelena from successfully getting it over head. But Yelena quickly managed to get it over her, and Yelena just jumped onto her, her legs wrapping around Natasha’s waist.

With the sudden weight, Natasha stumbled backward, tripping over the sweater blanket at her feet. She was successfully thrown on the floor, and Yelena was cackling above her, her head outside the sweater blanket.

Natasha narrowed her eyes with a wide smirk, knowing how she could successfully retaliate against Yelena’s hold. She dug her fingers into Yelena’s sides, and Yelena cackled, trying her best to defend herself. As Yelena loosened her grip to try to defend herself, Natasha quickly flipped their positions. Natasha moved out from under the fabric, looking down at Yelena who was squished underneath her.

Yelena let out a stubborn huff, unhappy at the fact that she had been defeated as a pout came onto her face.

“Huh… That thing does give Natasha the advantage,” Kate pointed out aloud, and Yelena’s gaze immediately snapped to the brunette’s. Kate’s eyes went ridiculously wide. Natasha moved off of Yelena as the blonde shoved her away, hopping to her feet as she hopped over the side of the ring and chased Kate.

Kate yelped, starting toward the door.

“KATE BISHOP, COME BACK HERE RIGHT—” Yelena was quickly interrupted as she got tripped up over her own sweater blanket, crashing into the floor and falling on her face. Kate let out a sharp bark of laughter, but Yelena was quickly back on her feet again and lunging for the girl. Kate screeched in terror, running for her life.

Natasha got up from the ring, dusting herself off with an affectionate roll of her eyes. She slowly followed after the girls, grabbing her shoes on the way out.

After all, Kate was going to need someone to rescue her from her most recent blunder.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“You were always a really great agent for S.H.I.E.L.D. I assume things are going well for the Avengers now that you’re working independently?” Maria questioned, a calm smile on her face. Natasha just nodded to her with a slight grin.

Maria had dropped by the Avengers compound for one of her very rare visits. It was good to see an old friend again despite the fact that Natasha felt somewhat strange speaking to her since it had been so much time in-between talking to her. The last time Natasha had spoken to her was before Yelena had moved in with her.

Maria was working at some manner of intelligence agency now, and while she had always been serious and put-together, she was even more closed-off now. Natasha was happy to see her, but she still felt some tension at the fact that she did not entirely trust the woman because she was not able to fully discern what Maria was doing at this point.

“Things are wonderful. We’ve got a new potential recruit, and she’s showing a lot of promise,” Natasha explained, and Maria nodded, raising an eyebrow as she looked over at the redhead.

“Oh, yeah? Are you mentoring her?” Maria asked, and Natasha debated about how much she would say. She was at war with herself since she did not know exactly who Maria was working for now since her job was classified but Natasha also trusted Maria to a degree in terms of keeping secrets.

“Partially. She’s Clint’s protégée, but I’m helping her here and there when he can’t be here. Plus, I’m more skilled in hand-to-hand than him, so there’s that,” Natasha chuckled fondly, a small smile on her face as she thought of Kate and how she was making leaps and bounds.

“Wow… Sounds like a lot has changed since I last visited,” Maria pointed out with a light laugh, and Natasha nodded to her, thinking of Yelena.

“Yeah. I’ve also kind of already got my hands full with my own,” Natasha pointed out with a smirk, thinking of the look on Yelena’s face if she had heard Natasha’s words.

Maria was immediately curious, her light blues meeting Natasha’s gaze quizzically.

“You’ve got a protégée of your own?” Maria asked, and Natasha shook her head fondly, figuring that it was safe enough to admit she had a sister. After all, Natasha never hid Yelena when they were in public, so it was perfectly acceptable that Maria could know about her.

“More like a little sister,” Natasha admitted, and Maria looked surprised.

“Oh, okay. I didn’t know you had any family, Romanoff,” Maria pointed out, and Natasha shrugged.

“I’ve got two now,” Natasha spoke, not choosing to elaborate as she thought of her somewhat strained relationship with Alexei and Melina. They were odd and far from anywhere near perfect or even good parents to her, but they were sort of her family, too.

“I’m beginning to think I should visit a little more often,” Maria deadpanned, and Natasha laughed lightly. Natasha opened her mouth, about to elaborate a little more on her baby sister.

However, she was quickly distracted by fabric being thrown over her head. Familiar arms wrapped around her waist as they grabbed at her and tickled her, trying to reach up to her armpits.

Natasha let out a strangled noise, trying to avoid showing her weakness to tickles in front of Maria despite the fact that Maria really could not see inside the blanket where Yelena was so shamelessly assaulting her sides. Natasha pulled away from her, trying to escape her, and Yelena, after a bit more struggling, finally let her go.

Natasha lifted the bottom of the sweater blanket, looking back at Yelena with a playful yet exasperated glare.

“Gotcha, poser! Consider that payback for saving Katie’s butt yesterday!” Yelena announced wickedly, and Natasha let out a deep sigh, somewhat embarrassed at the sudden sneak attack and the fact that she had not been able to detect it.

Of course, Natasha was hardly ever able to detect Yelena before she was directly upon her. Some part of Natasha just blindly trusted Yelena, and her subconscious allowed Yelena to sneak up on her.

Natasha then turned back to Maria, Yelena looking a little more uncertain as she eyed the woman with a hardened yet curious gaze. It was obvious that Yelena was distrustful since she had never met the woman. Of course, Yelena was always unhappy when she saw Natasha with any other female people, especially new female people, so her trepidation likely connected to that sentiment as well.

However, it did not stop Yelena from stepping up and resting her chin on Natasha’s shoulder, looking at Maria with a silent warning in her eyes. Natasha just huffed a little, reaching back and squeezing Yelena’s arm briefly before returning her hand to her side.

“Maria, this is my little sister Yelena. You’re going to have to excuse her. She’s a goofball,” Natasha sighed deeply, shaking her head. Maria just chuckled, looking at Yelena and taking in the sight of her carefully in that manner that was typical of any good spy.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a teenage niece just like that, so I completely understand,” Maria expressed, and Natasha looked back at Yelena as the blonde pulled back from Natasha’s shoulder.

Yelena had stiffened, and her face was unreadable as she just stared at the taller woman. Maria offered a hand to her, and Yelena hesitantly outstretched her hand, her jaw clenched ever so slightly.

“It’s good to meet you, Yelena. I’m Maria,” Maria introduced, and Yelena nodded stiffly in reply, not having anything to say in response to her as she shook her hand for a short moment. She then released it quickly, her hand returning to her side.

Natasha knew Yelena was likely just unhappy that Maria was a friend of Natasha’s, and her reaction was likely just tied to that typical jealousy tied to Red Room trauma. Natasha just made a mental note to offer her baby sister more cuddles.

Maria then turned her attentions to Natasha once more, telling her something about her life and her job that she was actually allowed to share, and Natasha listened easily. Natasha was quickly distracted, however, as she noted that Yelena was walking away from them.

“Hey, sweet girl, where are you going?” Natasha asked, and Yelena just looked back at her strangely, a small smile coming onto her face.

“I’ve got to do this thing with Peter,” Yelena pointed out, and Natasha grinned a little despite Yelena’s strange behavior.

“Try not to kick his butt too much at Mario Kart. He needs to keep a shred of what little dignity he has,” Natasha told her, smirking a little at the thought of the boy. But Yelena’s face hardened a little as she stiffened, and Natasha lost a little of her smile as she mentally questioned what was going on with the girl and what had caused her sharp shift in mood.

“I’m not going to play some kiddy game with him,” Yelena bluntly stated, and Natasha just gazed back at her oddly, feeling her heart ache just a little as she realized that Yelena was obviously upset.

“Okay… Well… I love you,” Natasha expressed, not caring that Maria was around to hear and that the woman was gaping at her like she had completely lost her mind. Natasha knew that Maria had never thought in her wildest dreams that she would hear Natasha say such words, but Natasha did not really care. She loved her sister and had no problem telling her so.

“Love you, too,” Yelena muttered in reply, heading off down the hall as she took off her sweater blanket as she walked. Natasha furrowed her brow, feeling her heart twist as she failed to understand what was going on with her.

But Natasha figured that she would find out what was up with her sister a little later. She would give her time to cool down some first.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Hey… You in here?” Natasha asked, and Yelena barely looked up from her phone, keeping her gaze on it. The sweater blanket was in the floor not too far from the bed, and Natasha looked back at Yelena with a silent question in her eyes. Yelena did not look at her, and Natasha approached carefully.

“You okay? You seemed a little upset earlier,” Natasha pointed out gently, and Yelena just shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’m fine,” Yelena simply, tapping at the screen as she played some game on her phone. Natasha pursed her lips, tilting her head slightly as she approached the blonde. She came over, sitting on the edge of the bed as she eyed the younger girl.

“You sure?” Natasha asked, and Yelena just nodded absently, her concentration primarily focused on the phone before her. Natasha eyed her carefully, noting how Yelena was positively refusing to even remotely acknowledge her.

“You wanna watch a movie and cuddle? I’ve got some time, and Bruno’s been in my head all day so I thought it was about time I heeded the call,” Natasha joked with a grin, hoping that maybe some snuggles would put Yelena in a better mood. Also, she knew that Yelena would never turn down cuddles no matter how upset she was.

Yelena glanced at her, their eye contact lasting for just a moment before she returned her attention to the phone.

“No, that’s okay,” Yelena finally replied, and Natasha deflated just a little. However, as she thought of another movie choice, she brightened, smiling softly.

“Are you absolutely sure? I might be in the mood to watch a certain magical pair of sisters,” Natasha hinted at Frozen, perfectly willing to suffer through another rewatch if only to bring a smile to Yelena’s face again.

To her surprise, Yelena immediately set her jaw, looking significantly less than pleased with the movie suggestion, and Natasha immediately lost her smile. She could not believe that Yelena did not want to watch Frozen. Yelena always wanted to watch that movie no matter what mood she was in.

“That’s a kid’s movie,” Yelena declared firmly, her voice sounding almost sad. Natasha was immediately homing in on Yelena’s use of the word “kid,” remembering how Yelena had used the word to describe Mario Kart earlier. She had only started using this term since she had met Maria earlier.

Natasha’s eyes widened just a little as she realized precisely what Yelena’s problem was.

Maria had hurt Yelena’s feelings with the comment about her teenage niece. It must have made Yelena feel silly and childish, and Natasha felt a sharp stab to her heart as she looked at her baby sister. That must have been why she seemed so resolutely against the idea of playing Mario Kart with Peter and why she was calling her favorite movie of all time childish.

Natasha’s eyes softened, knowing that her baby sister would not openly admit to such a thing any time soon. She looked around the room, trying to think of some way to break through to her.

However, as soon as her gaze fell upon the discarded sweater-blanket in the floor, she had an idea. Natasha got up from the bed, reaching down to the thing and glancing over her shoulder to see if Yelena was paying any attention to her.

Yelena’s eyes were firmly focused on her phone. Therefore, Natasha wasted no time in just slipping the thing over her head, putting her arms through the sleeves and grinning in spite of herself as she came over to Yelena.

She crawled onto the bed, moving on top of Yelena. Yelena looked up just in time to see Natasha flop the sweater blanket’s bottom over her head. Yelena let out a surprised grunt and Natasha flopped down on top of her, pulling her head inside the sweater blanket with Yelena as she pulled in her arms as well.

“Hi. Welcome to my happy pocket,” Natasha greeted, echoing Yelena’s greeting from the other morning with a wild grin before diving in for her attack.

Natasha kissed Yelena’s face quickly, peppering her skin with slobbery, messy, playful kisses, and Yelena was immediately protesting, trying to get her off as giggles inevitably escaped her. Natasha just chuckled in reply, leaning down to blow a raspberry against the girl’s neck. Yelena squealed, trying to grab at Natasha’s face and push her head away. Natasha, after a moment of making her squirm, pulled away to look at her.

Natasha smiled adoringly at her baby sister, and Yelena smiled somewhat breathlessly in return, giggles still wracking her frame.

“I adore you, and I never want you to change who you are,” Natasha told her softly, her nose pressed to Yelena’s gently as she moved forward to squish her forehead more firmly against Yelena’s head. Yelena looked surprised for just a moment, obviously not expecting Natasha to guess what was wrong with her so quickly.

“You are the best person I know, and I love how goofy you are. I didn’t have nearly as much fun before you came into my life again, and I never want you to stop being that person no matter what anyone else might say or think,” Natasha explained, her voice gentle and loving as she addressed the girl. Yelena nodded just barely, looking down for a moment before meeting Natasha’s eyes again.

“That Maria woman thought I was childish,” Yelena pointed out, and Natasha shook her head, love swelling in her heart as she looked down at this perfect ray of sunshine that had brightened her life so greatly.

“She didn’t think you were childish, little one… But even if she did, I don’t care what she thinks, and you shouldn’t either. Be who you are, and don’t worry about what everybody else thinks. Because I think you’re amazing,” Natasha assured her, her voice strong as she uttered the words.

Natasha believed the statement wholeheartedly, and she wanted Yelena to know just how special she was to her. Yelena was the joy in her life, and she could never let the blonde think that she was anything less than perfectly beautiful and amazing.

Yelena swallowed a bit, the slightest bits of tears coming to her eyes as she quickly pressed her face into Natasha’s neck. Her nose pressed against Natasha’s skin as her arms raised up to wrap around the redhead. Natasha smiled gently, returning the embrace.

“Thank you,” Yelena whispered, and Natasha pressed a kiss to the side of her head near her ear.

“Always.”

51 notes · View notes

biggest-stupidhead · 4 years ago

Text

Bad Timing (Levi x reader) Part 7

Summary: How do you tell your friends that you’re falling for your big brother’s best friend?

Word Count: 4.1K

Due to the small size of your town, you had to drive three full hours to a larger airport with flights that were going to New York, where Levi would board a plane that would take him across the ocean. To say that the car ride was awkward would be an understatement, at the last moment Kenny had decided that he wanted to see his nephew off, so you had to leave earlier than planned to pick him up. Luckily there was plenty of room in Erwin's old mini van for all of you. Your mom drove, Kenny sat in the passenger seat, Erwin and Levi sat in the middle row, leaving Hange and you crammed in the back with Levi's luggage.

Your mom and Kenny were getting along well as far as you could tell, talking about their jobs and holiday plans.

"Hey, why don't you join us on Christmas?" you couldn't help but gape in surprise at your mother's words. Kenny scoffed and shook his head, amused at her suggestion.

"That's kind of you but I wouldn't want to impose." the man said, shaking his head as he chuckled at your mother's words.

"No seriously, we have plenty of room and besides my brother is bringing one of his good friends." your mother shrugged, her eyes still trained on the road. You noticed that Levi and Erwin both had tensed in front of you, trying to seem uninterested in the conversation happening in the front of the car. Hange had both her ear buds in so she was completely oblivious to the conversation.

"Well, it would be rude of me to say no now wouldn't it?" Kenny smirked at your mom who only smirked and nodded in agreement.

"It would be pretty rude." she teased, Kenny smiled impishly at her before turning to look out at the passing scenery.

As expected the airport was bustling, families rushing into the building and cars lined bumper to bumper picking up people and dropping them off just the same. Business men in suits were everywhere, as were recreational travelers dressed in sweats and casual wear. Your mom parked the car and all of you helped Levi gather his bags. You watched as Levi tugged at the neckline of his black hoodie before slinging his carry on bag across his back. Erwin sat his large suit case down in front of Levi, who was dusting himself off. Once Levi was pleased with his appearance you all made your way into the airport, it wasn't long before you had weighed his luggage and were heading towards security. You came to a halt outside of security, stepping aside so you could say goodbyes without hindering other travelers. Your mom was first, she pulled out an envelope and handed it to Levi, a soft smile on her lips. Levi furrowed his brows and took the envelope to examine the contents.

"Think of it as an early birthday present from all of us." Your mom explained as he pulled the flap back his eyes widened and he quickly shoved the envelope back towards your mom.

"I can't accept this." he said as his face turned dark.

"Please, you don't have to spend it." your mom urged, pushing the envelope back to his chest. He rolled his eyes and slung the backpack off his back to push the money into the bag.

"Fine, thank you very much." he murmured as he heaved the bag back over his shoulder. Your mom smiled sweetly and pulled Levi into a hug, he wrapped his arm around her and allowed her to hold him. After your mom let go of him she patted his shoulder affectionately. Erwin was next, he shamelessly hugged Levi who awkwardly patted his broad shoulder, the hug wasn't long which wasn't surprising. As soon as the pair separated Hange jumped Levi and rocked him as she held him tightly. Finally it was your turn, just like all the other hugs Levi only wrapped one arm around you, and the embrace was brief. He didn't hug his uncle, only nodded tersely in his direction, Kenny returned the sentiment and then Levi grabbed his bag and stalked towards the long winding line to get through security.

"Have a safe trip Levi!" Hange yelled, waving enthusiastically after him.

"Don't forget to call!" your mom called, an affectionate smile on her face. Levi simply lifted his hand lazily to acknowledge the two as he got in line. As soon as you were sure that he was well on his way to reaching his flight in time your little group made your way back out to the parking lot to start the long drive home.

Traffic had been horrendous on the way back home, making the drive about an hour longer than it would have been. Your mom invited Kenny over for tea, and to your surprise he agreed. Erwin and Hange already had reservations at a local Italian restaurant, and you would rather be caught dead than spending the rest of your day with your mom and Levi's eccentric uncle. So you texted Jean.

"Want to do homework tonight?"

"Of course, name a time and place and I'll be there ;)"

You smiled at your phone as you typed out a quick reply.

"How about the Cover Cove around 5:00?"

"Great, I think that they have a live band playing tonight."

"Really? That sounds fun, is that going to bother you if we're trying to study?"

"No, I don't expect to do much studying anyway...I'll be too distracted by your beauty."

You rolled your eyes, he's always so cheesy. You chuckled and replied with a laughing emoji and a heart emoji. Not long after you sent Jean your reply your mom pulled into your driveway and parked the car. You all piled out of the car and into the house, your mom and Kenny settled into the kitchen while Erwin and Hange slunk off into Erwin's room to get ready for their date. You retreated into your own room to prepare your things for your outing this evening. You changed into a pair of mom jeans and a white chunky knit sweater. You packed your bag and checked the time, you had about thirty minutes before Jean would come pick you up. You wandered down the stairs to grab a snack, your mom and Kenny were still in the kitchen drinking tea, you'd only seen Kenny a handful of times. Whenever you had seen him he wore a scowl or a smug smirk, but this time he looked thoughtful, and intrigued.

"-so in order to stop the bleeding I had to stick my fingers in the wound." your mom was waving her hands with enthusiasm as she recalled the events of one of her favorite ER patients. A story that you knew well, a man came in with a gun wound, he'd been shot by his buddy on accident while they were out hunting. To stop the bleeding she had stuck her index finger and her middle fingers into the wound. At the time she had only been working at the hospital for about a week, she swears that this event paved the way to her becoming head ER nurse years later. You fixed yourself a simple sandwich and slowly began to eat it, only half listening to your mother and Kennys' conversation.

"Wait wait wait, so you're telling me that you stuck two fingers in that man's thigh?"

"Well yeah of course!" your mother scoffed into her tea cup, clearly pleased that she had captured Kenny's attention. You wondered what Kenny did for a living. Your eyes flickered to his hands, they were slender like Levi's, but they were rough with callouses. He was thin, but muscular, sharp features, cheekbones that could probably cut diamonds. If you were to see him from behind one might think that he was no older than thirty five. But the lines on his face gave away his true age, his eyes were outlined by crows feet and dark puffy bags. His beard was scraggly and reminded you of the way that the Amish men wore their beards. You were startled when your mother stood and disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone with Kenny.

"Take a picture it will last longer." Kenny drawled as he dunked his tea bag in and out of his cup.

"I'm good." you squeaked, a wave of embarrassment crashed over you, a bit ashamed at being caught. He made no move to continue the conversation but you were still to curious about why Levi despised him so much.

"Your mom makes a mean earl grey." Kenny's deep baritone filled the silence once again taking you by surprise.

"She does." you agreed, you glanced at the clock, only ten more minutes. Kenny watched you disappear up the stairs, an amused smirk spreading across his lips. He was no fool, he knew that you were apprehensive of him, most likely due to what your big brother and Levi had told you about him. And you would be right to be weary around the older man. When you returned down the stairs, your mother had already returned, she was showing Kenny a small container of screws. The screws were once in Erwin's knee, from when he had injured himself playing lacrosse back in middle school, that was a good story. You didn't want to interrupt them so you didn't say goodbye as you passed. Jean was just pulling up your driveway as you walked out the front door, loud music blaring out of his speakers. You jogged up to the passenger side and hopped in, he had turned down the music and twisted in his seat to face you. You tossed your bag into the back seat and turned to face him. Jean reached across the center counsel and cupped your cheek a fond smile on his lips.

"Hey." you giggled, a swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach when you noticed that he was staring at your lips.

"Hi." he whispered as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You smiled into the kiss and he rubbed his thumb over your jawline. You brought your own hand up to run over the back of his neck, twisting in the seat to get a better angle in the kiss as you dipped your tongue into his mouth. Jean brushed his tongue along yours, you groaned into his mouth, another dopey smile passing over your features. Suddenly there was a loud thump on your window and you jumped away from Jean with a loud smack as you broke the kiss. You weren't surprised to see Hange with her face pressed against the window and her hands splayed out over the cool glass. The window was now fogged as she breathed heavily onto the glass and you slumped back into your seat, covering your face with a hand. Jean turned to face forward and placed both hands on his wheel in an attempt at innocence. Erwin hovered behind Hange, a frown on his face as he tugged on her shoulder to rip her away from the car. He brought two fingers to his eyes and then pointed them at you in an 'I'm watching you' gesture as he tugged Hange towards his mini van.

"Where are they going?" Jean asked as they walked off.

"Antonio's I think." you answered as you pulled your seat belt on.

"They're really dressed up." Jean noted as he watched Erwin adjust his tie as he held the car door open for Hange. Erwin wore a classy black suit with a black tie, Hange wore a deep purple silk dress that clung to her curves and ended around her mid thigh. You nodded as you watched Erwin shut the door and walk around the car to the drivers side.

"Sure are." you responded as you turned to smile at him. Jean hummed as he shifted the gear to drive and turned around after Erwin pulled out. Jean held his hand out for you which you gladly accepted. Luckily the ride wasn't too long, the town was dark except for the bright light emitting from the Cover Cove. The modest store was a secondhand book shop that doubled as a cafe. The small establishment happened to have a stage in the corner, which they used on the weekends, Fridays was slam poetry night, Saturdays was rock, and Sundays were usually jazz. Jean parked on the street and the two of you quickly gathered your things and hustled into the shop. You had to admit that you didn't come here often, so you were surprised to find out that the shop had managed to purchase the building next to them and knock out the wall to obtain more space. The book shelves that had previously occupied the majority of the space, were now all pushed to one side of the shop to your left. This opened the front of the shop up for seating, an assortment of antique tables and mismatch chairs gave the room a certain flair. The back of the shop was where you ordered drinks or food, a lone barista was manning the counter. You smiled when you recognized Marco, Jean squeezed your bicep as you weaved through the tables to reach the back to order.

"Hey guys how's it going?" Marco chirped as he pumped a syrup into someone's drink.

"Oh not too bad." Jean shrugged as he leaned against the counter, you copied him as you watched Marco finish the order he was working on.

"I didn't know you worked here." you stated with a smile as you watched Marco place the drink on the counter for the customer to retrieve.

"Yeah, it's nothing special I just work weekends." Marco gushed, a blush spreading up his neck and onto his freckled cheeks. Jean scoffed and shook his head at Marco's words.

"Oh come on nobody is crazy enough to only work weekends at a freakin book store." Jean smirked at Marco who rolled his eyes and turned to make another drink.

"At least I'll have some extra cash to spend over the summer." Marco jabbed, a playful smile on his face.

"He's right about that." you agreed with Marco and covered your mouth to hide the smile that was spreading over your face.

"Can't argue with that." Jean smiled at you and gently grabbed your wrist to pull your hand off your face. You looked down sheepishly as Jean rubbed his thumb over your pulse point on your wrist.

"Oh get a room you two." Marco scolded and made shooing motions towards you.

"Can it freckles." Jean chuckled, slipping his hand into your own. The two of you wandered to one the back tables, you draped your coat over the back of the seat and dropped your bag onto the ground. The sound of soft jazz music drifted through the air as the band of older gentlemen played on, the shop was mostly empty except for a few older people who had come to support the small band. Jean watched you pull out your laptop and begin to scroll through emails, he pretended to read his book for English. His eyes were trained on you as you chewed on your lip as you opened an assignment, he noticed how nice your hands looked as you typed, and how your jaw clenched and unclenched as you worked. You paused, lifting your gaze from your laptop and pursing your lips when you caught Jean staring.

"Getting anything done over there?" you mused as he looked down at his book, he shook his head and chuckled.

"No I can't say that I am." he smiled sheepishly as he drummed his fingers on the book.

"Shame." you shrugged and turned your attention back to your work with a smug smile, Jean gasped in mock hurt.

"You could at least give me a hand." Jean huffed as he waved his book in the air. You tilted your head in an attempt to read the cover. Their Eyes Were Watching God a great read, one of your favorites.

"Hm I dunno, if I do it's going to cost ya." you teased as you turned to work on your own homework once more.

"I'll do anything." Jean groaned, he stretched his leg out to brush against your own underneath the table. You kicked his leg in response as you continued to type, Jean sighed and slumped back in his seat. The two of you lingered in the shop until Marco began wiping down tables, sometime around nine o'clock in the evening. You left the shop, promising to come by more as you ducked out into the dark street. Jean and you playfully bumped your shoulders as you walked down the quiet street towards his car, snow crunching underfoot. He opened the door for you and you thanked him. He drove you back to your house, which was already dark, you assumed that your brother was still out with Hange and your mom was probably in bed. Jean parked his car and sighed as he turned to face you.

"Want to come in?" you asked, more out of courtesy than anything. Jean shook his head and tapped his hand against the steering wheel.

"I would but my mom is expecting me.." he blushed as he confessed, you smiled appreciating his honesty. You knew that he was usually embarrassed about his relationship with his mom.

"No that's totally fine, maybe some other time." you smiled as you leaned over to give him a peck on the lips. He smiled and slid his hand up the column of your throat as he kissed you deeper. You pulled back before it could get too spicy, a playful glint in your eye as Jean pouted.

"Another time." Jean agreed, shooting you a dazzling grin. You reached into the back seat for your bag before you opened the door and walked briskly to the house. Once you had entered safely Jean began to pull out, he honked his horn as he disappeared down the drive. You smiled after him and kicked off your shoes. You tiptoed through the house, the dated wood floors creaking under your weight as you crept up the stairs, pausing halfway up. You looked down at the dark living room, the moonlight seeping through the large windows and casting the room in a pale glow. As your eyes scanned over the space you remembered all of the memories that you had in this house, the people that you shared those memories with. But at the end of the day that was all they would be, memories. People change, they grow, that's what life is all about. Every person you meet will eventually slip away and before you know it they are a stranger.

Your stomach flipped when you imagined all the ways that Paris could change Levi. You had seen it before, one of your best friends spent two full months in Switzerland and Italy with her extended family. The girl that you knew, the girl pre Europe, had never tainted her body with alcohol or any other substance. Not that doing so was bad, it just wasn't the kind of person she was, never one to give into such temptations. When she returned at first glance you wouldn't notice the difference. She told stories of the people she had met and the fun day trips she had taken. While over seas she had pierced her bellybutton, it looked good. She had also gone to some parties with her cousins.

When she mentioned the parties it almost seemed as if she had slipped up, her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. Your friends begged for details, only being freshmen in high school you were all fresh to the party scene. She always came up with a way of changing the subject. You noticed that after the parties were mentioned she would slip into the background of your conversations, folding inward on herself. You hated it, she never did that before. You never found out why she avoided the topic, because only a few months after she returned you and the rest of your friends fully immersed yourselves in the party scene, and she did not follow.

You lost track of her after that year, she went off the grid and moved away, your friends joked that she went back to Italy. You clenched your fist around the banister, bringing you back to the present. That wouldn't happen to Levi, you wouldn't let it. Besides, you were probably just being overdramatic, it was only a month. You let out a shaky breath and continued your climb up the stairs, you felt like a ghost as you wandered down the hall to your door. Once you had reached your room, you slowly closed the door and dropped your bag. You curled your fingers around the hem of your sweater and pulled it over your head. Next you unbuttoned your jeans and shimmied out of them, you fell onto your bed and moaned into your pillow. You glanced at the alarm clock on your nightstand and frowned, it was nearing ten and there was still no sign of Erwin or Hange. Just as soon as the thought had crossed your mind you head the front door open followed by the sound of the couple kicking their shoes off and hanging up their coats. The floorboards creaked as they climbed the stairs, you waited for the sound of Erwin's squeaky door opening, but it didn't come.

"Have you heard from Levi yet?" Hange's voice was soft, almost concerned.

"Yeah actually, just as we were paying he texted me." Erwin's voice sounded heavy with exhaustion.

"That's good." Hange mumbled, you sat up in an attempt to hear more.

"Yeah, I hope that he is able to make a decision after this month." Erwin sighed, the floorboards creaked followed by a dull thump. You knew that Erwin was leaning against the wall, and Hange was probably shifting her weight like she does when she's nervous.

"Me too, I think that this trip will be really good for him." Hange affirmed, the rickety floors creaking loudly as she began to pace. You drug yourself to the edge of the bed, ready to get up and poke your head out the door to ask them what they were talking about. Just as your feet touched the cold ground Hange's pacing stopped.

"Look at me Hange. He will be fine." your brother's voice was firm.

"I know, I just..." Hange sniffled and your own eyes filled with tears.

"I just want to be there for him." she choked out, a tear rolled down your cheek, Hange never cried, especially not over Levi.

"So do I but this is the best way that we can be there for him at this time."Erwin reasoned, Hange sniffled and hiccuped a few times before you heard their footsteps retreat towards Erwin's room and you heard the sound of his door swinging open and then closed. Okay, maybe you weren't being dramatic. You stood up and staggered to your bag where your phone was, you pulled it out and unlocked it with shaky fingers. You tapped on your messages, ignoring Jean's good night text and Armin's asking for your weekly schedule for studying. Mikasa had sent you a recipe, Sasha and Connie had been sending you stupid tik toks all weekend. You typed in Levi's name, his contact popping up immediately. You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the picture of his grumpy face before you opened the message and stared at the blinking cursor. Great now what were you supposed to say.

I miss you

Don't change

How was the flight?

Forget me already?

Has it been a month yet?

You scrunched your nose in disgust as you ran through your options. All of them made you sound like a crazy bitch. You pinched the bridge of your nose and stared at the blank conversation. You usually deleted your messages, not that you had accumulated many messages with Levi anyway. How could you show Levi that you were thinking about him without it sounding too deep? A crude joke? Yes that would do, something to do with shit.

"Hope all this traveling doesn't throw off your bowel movements."

You cringed but still pressed send before you could overthink the message. You shut your phone off and slammed it onto the nightstand, your cheeks flaring with hot embarrassment. You made yourself busy by changing into an old hoodie and sliding underneath the covers. You heard your phone ding but made no move to see who texted you. Tomorrow was Monday and you needed to wake up early, he would have to wait until tomorrow, it was only fair. After all, he was making you wait a whole month. He could wait one night. With that you rolled over and snuggled into your covers, your eyes heavy with sleep which you welcomed gladly.

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cherryonigiri · 4 years ago

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nanami kento [evenings with you]

nanami kento x reader || cw: descriptions of blood/injuries, light angst

a/n: this is just self-indulgent writing for me but i'm v stressed about school rn and this is the result. just imagine that y/n is a bio/medical phd candidate lol.

Nanami can tell that you're stressed. Usually you savor the nights he's not on overtime, asking him about work and refusing to leave his side for most of the evening. He's used to you being attentive, so the fact that you've asked him the same question twice within the last ten minutes is already setting alarm bells ringing in his head. You're constantly fiddling with something, or flashing furtive glances towards the bedroom when you think he's not paying attention.

It only gets worse after dinner. You insist on washing up, something about how you want him to 'enjoy his night off.' Nanami compromises, silently grabbing a towel and drying the dishes. It's clear that your mind is elsewhere. Your hands scrub the porcelain on autopilot, and he can hear you muttering under your breath.

Every now and then you'll mutter a list of tasks under your breath. Nanami remembers you mentioning that things were hectic in lab. You're almost always still working when gets home from work, even when it's well past when you eat your dinner. It's clear that you've had a busy day-- the apartment is far more cluttered than it usually is. There are post-it and pieces of scrap paper stuck to every single surface, and a forgotten pile of folded laundry rests on the couch.

An intense burning sensation across your palm causes you cry out. "Shit!" You drop the knife you were washing in favor of cradling your already bleeding hand. Nanami is instantly by your side, firmly pressing the dishcloth against your cut. There is a worrying amount of red seeping into the fabric, so he silently ushers you to the bathroom.

It's a strange reversal of roles. He's used to being the one leaning leaning against the counter while you bandage his wounds. Instead, it's you who is perched on the marble surface, wincing as he dabs an antiseptic soaked cotton ball against your injury. "Sorry, I'm almost done," he says when you let out a loud hiss.

"It's fine," you reply, sheepishly looking away. "I should have been paying more attention."

Nanami chooses to only respond with a nonchalant hum, focusing on cleaning your palm. The two of you sit there in comfortable silence while he applies ointment to the cut, adding gauze once he's finished. It's only when he reaches for the bandages that he decides to ask. "What's stressing you out?"

Your eyes widen as you realize you've been caught. Nanami is rarely home early these days, especially since he's been mentoring Itadori on behalf of Gojo. (Not that you mind - in the few times you've met Itadori through video call with Nanami, the pink-haired student's sunny disposition has never failed to cheer you up.) When he'd texted you saying he'd be home by dinner, you'd jumped at the opportunity to spend some much needed time with him. You'd pulled out the stops, cooking something a little fancier, and intent on spending the earlier part of the evening cuddling with him. Secretly, you had planned to sneak out of bed after he'd fallen asleep (he always goes to bed early on days like these) and finish preparing for the gauntlet of meetings and presentations you had tomorrow. It was your fault for putting off the tasks, and you didn't want to let your own bad habits get in the way of some quality time with your boyfriend.

"It's nothing, I just have a lot on my plate tomorrow." You do your best to laugh it off, but quickly trail off once when you catch Nanami's deadpan expression. He's always been too good at seeing through your white lies. "I put off some work..." A raised eyebrow from him prompts you to continue, "And I was planning on doing it after you went to bed..." You can't help it when your face scrunches into a pout. After all, now your carefully-laid deception has been revealed.

When Nanami bursts into amused chuckles, you're momentarily surprised, but quickly go back to sulking. "Stop laughing at me Ken!" you whine, "I'm a--"

"Self-aware procrastinator," he finishes your sentence with an amused grin. "I know love, I know. I've seen you write far too many papers within 24-hours of a deadline to be surprised." He presses an affectionate kiss against your wrist.

You scowl at your boyfriend, snatching your bandaged hand away from his grasp. "I'm glad that my suffering is entertaining for at least one person." You stomp back to the bedroom in faux-anger, smiling when you hear Nanami's footsteps not far behind you.

When he steps into the bedroom Nanami drapes his frame over your shoulders, his warm torso nestled against your back. "It is one of your more...endearing traits," he murmurs into your ear before pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck. You can feel your cheeks and ears tingle at his words of affection.

"Sometimes you can be such a sweet talker," you mumble to yourself while you change into your pajamas. This week it's been an old Jujutsu tech hoodie and a pair of well-worn athletic shorts.

"Only for you," Nanami replies while he undoes the buttons of his outfit, chucking his tan pants and blue button up into the laundry basket in the corner. He dons a pair of sweatpants before returning your side to recapture you in another affectionate hug. It's a well kept secret of the Kento-Y/N household that Nanami Kento likes to lounge around shirtless in the privacy of his apartment. (You've been sworn to secrecy, but only because your boyfriend claims that Gojo and the students would have a field day teasing him if this information were to be made public amongst the jujutsu sorcerer community.)

Turning around, you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your nose against his torso and taking in his comforting scent. It's been so long since the two of you have had a moment to yourselves, and for once your hectic thoughts are silenced in favor of sharing a moment of calm bliss with Nanami. He hums in appreciation, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your hips.

"Do you want to watch anything tonight?" you ask after a few seconds of silence.

"No," he replies. "I was actually planning on reading the briefing Ichiji just sent me. Gojo apparently has another scheme up his sleeve." You giggle when your boyfriend lets out a pained sigh. On more than one occasion, your boyfriend has ranted to you about Gojo's unorthodox approach to exorcism. "I swear that idiot shaves a year off my lifespan every time I go on a mission with him," Nanami complains. "He's taking away the years I could spend in Malaysia."

You hum thoughtfully before responding, "Then do you mind--"

Once again, Nanami already knows what you're going to say. "Just remember to bring your laptop charger, I know you have a thousand tabs open on your computer right now," he says while exiting to the living room. After a few moments you join him, overburdened laptop and charger in hand. You both take your usual spots in the living room, him resting comfortably in the center of the loveseat and you sitting on a floor cushion, nestled between his legs. Soon you've fallen into a groove, fingers steadily typing on the keyboard. The warmth of Nanami's presence next to you brings a sense of calm, giving you the grounding focus you need to finish off the last of your tasks.

As he thumbs through the printouts Ichiji gave him, Nanami can't help but let his eyes drift towards you every now and then. You look so adorable when you work. From the way your brow furrows whenever you reread a line, to the way you unconsciously chew on your lip when you scrutinize your draft for any errors. Every now and then he'll gently run his fingers through your hair, relishing the content sighs you let out in response.

It only takes about another hour before you're (finally) closing all your tabs (he still doesn't know why your laptop hasn't crashed yet). As you scroll through social media, your head begins to droop. Soon enough you've fallen asleep, breaths coming in soft and even puffs as you rest against his thigh. Smiling to himself, he puts down his papers and gently lifts your body from the floor. He's careful not to wake you as he slowly makes his way back to the bedroom.

Setting you on the bed, he tucks you under the blankets before lying beside you. The moonlight coming through your window softly illuminates your relaxed features, and he softly traces the outline of your face with his thumb. As he continues to caress your cheek, his eyes are drawn to the dark circles under your eyes. He rarely falls asleep after you these days - between his physically demanding occupation and the ever growing number of things you are responsible for at work- he's often the first to fall asleep from sheer exhaustion while you work well into the night. Not to mention that he's had to spend an increasing number of nights away from you, either on challenging missions or accompanying Gojo's students. And while he knows most of your stress comes from being a student, he can't help but feel guilty about all the additional distress his status as a jujutsu sorcerer has caused you.

When you started dating him, you insisted that Shoko teach you how to suture. He hates how much your stitches have improved since then. The neatness of your stitches is a constant reminder of how much you've endured because of him. When he hears you trying to muffle your sobs into a pillow, he swears he can feel his heart crack in his chest, hurting more than any kind of physical wound from battle. Those nights end with him holding you tightly to his bandaged chest, murmuring reassurances and affection into the crown of your head until you've calmed down enough to fall into a fitful sleep. Even when you're unconscious he'll still continue, words morphing into apologies for the sadness he's inflicted upon your shoulders.

Feeling his eyelids being to droop, Nanami presses one last kiss against your forehead before laying down. He wraps his arms around your waist, surrounding you with warmth, hoping that his presence will be enough to keep your nightmares away, at least for tonight. I love you, y/n is the last thought he has before he drifts away, ready to dream of a tropical sunset and a peaceful future with you by his side.

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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justimajin · 4 years ago

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Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt. 1

➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut

↳ (3.7k), Arranged Marriage AU

➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

➟ Warnings: This series will involve themes of graphic violence, depictions of blood, major character death and hints of trauma. 18+ rating. Reader discretion is highly advised.

gif credit.

➟ Next Update: Tuesday, December 22

Love is a strange thing.

It pulls individuals together, sparking fireworks and blissful rays of euphoria within seconds. It renders people affectionate, words dripped with honey and caresses full of tenderness transcending without a means of stopping. To be frank, it’s majestic through the eyes of the beholder.

But love is indeed a strange thing.

It’s history has been plagued with moments of weakness and hesitation, moments that rip away layers to reveal raw, vulnerable selves from every individual. It’s inability to forget and move on clutches onto the minds of those that chose to associate with it, invading their memories and never granting them a single second to run free. Love is a strange thing, but it’s most putrid use has always been the necessity to use it like a tool.

A deep breath escapes your tinted red lips, cold hands clutching onto the delicate bouquet that’s been thrust into them. The petal pink and lilac purple flowers rest against the chaste white of your dress, the awaited arrival of yours long passed as you raise your head and sneak a peek at the person standing in front of you behind your veil.

Clad in a special tailored suit for the occasion, his dark brown hair has been brushed back and neatly tucked into the corners of his hair. He stands tall and confident, seemingly captivated by the words the priest mumbles through as he drags on through every dull phase written in his book. As if he can tell your eyes are on him, he suddenly looks in your direction and you return your gaze back to the ground, clutching onto the array of petals in your hands.

The priest goes on to dutifully declare the responsibilities you must carry, including the very ones that tie you to each other.

For better, for worse. Rich, poor. Sickness, health.

Love. Cherish.

“Until death do you part?” The priest peers up with fatigued eyes, glancing in between you. You suck in a shaky breath, eyes fixating on everything except for the man standing on the opposing side.

“I-I do.” You hastily mutter, swallowing the lump stuck in your throat. Patiently waiting for his answer, you try not to focus on the collection of eyes gawking at you from the altar.

“I do.” He states, firm and resolute with his answer. It shakes you to your core, eyes immediately flickering up to meet his warm ones.

You’re perplexed for a moment, but you’re not given time to dwell any longer once the priest shuts his book, content with your answers. Relief floods you in an instant, yet it’s short-lived and has your stomach churning instead.

“You may kiss the bride.” The priest steps back as if you needed room for the grandiose gesture, eagerly awaiting the showcase with the rest of the people seated in front of the altar. Nevertheless, your hands begin to quiver despite your best wishes and you remain planted in place.

Before you even know it, the delicate veil resting against your forehead is being pulled up and tucked away, projecting your dolled up features on full display. You can only fidget when he draws near, preparing for the worse until he pauses.

Glancing up in surprise, you’re caught off guard from the lines crossing his forehead and the dismay clouding his eyes. For a second, you could have sworn that you were gazing into a mirror, an image of your combined concerns being painted right in front of you.

You’re caught in between a daze and bewilderment when he advances again, however all you feel is a soft peck against your skin before your veil is placed back into place. Your audience seems to be at loss with the action, but once he turns around to face them in the midst of holding your hand, loud cheers and roars flood the room as congratulatory confetti bursts into the room.

Unconsciously, your hand drifts over to your cheek with furrowed brows and you steal another glance at the man you will be bound to for eternity.

***

The L/N Family.

Tactical and resourceful, known for their skillful strategies and trade explorations, a business they would go on to proudly pronounce in the arms industry. Others would look to them for support and reassurance, and they would in return cohesively make protective deals that would ensure no harm. Yonghwa, their head, would go on to make a legacy out of his family name.

The Kim Family.

Discreet and powerful, known for their relentless determination and invokable hunger, characteristics that would eventually seep into their weapon manufacturing business. They know how and with whom to pick their fights, vigorously acquiring a steady position in the industry within a flash before everyone’s eyes. Namjung, their head, carved the Kim name into a status no one would have ever imagined.

Trade and manufacturing, two able sides of the same coin. They seeked to forge an union that would unite their two sectors, to create a harmonious flow of success within their collective industries.

But not all deals, go as planned.

On the fateful day, Yonghwa was found on the ground in a pool of his own blood while Namjung was left visibly shaken. Catastrophe seemed to only follow the event there on after, with both families seeking revenge on the other. Their union seemed to be the last thing on either mind, but after the years passed and stained relations had been fully dragged out, there only seemed to be one solution that could bring peace to the two of them.

***

The wheels of the large suitcase hit the polished ground.

It’s lavish and grand, crystals littering the high held ceiling and lilies spread over the handles of the spiraling staircase. It ends right at the large chandelier, with more crystals dangling down opposite the shining marble that your slippers find purchase in.

You remain in place, staring with wide eyes and an agape jaw the scenery before you.

“Please,” A girl bows before you, dressed in a simple pale blouse and skirt that’s paired with an apron. There’s a small twinkle in her pleasant eyes paired with natural pouting lips; the delicate features drawing out the sheer youth the girl embodies. “Follow me.”

You snap out of your daze once she advances forward, her hands careful weaving through yours to clutch onto your packed luggage. At first, you’re a bit unsure as to if you should let her carry the heavy load up the stairs, but you’re pleasantly surprised when she manages to hall it all the way up.

She roughly pushes herself against a large wooden door, revealing the grand room behind it. It’s decorated similarly to the main portion of the house, however the sheer size of it has your jaw dropping again, eyebrows furrowed as its appearance.

Your suspicions are confirmed right away, “This will be your room, Miss Y/N.”

“I-I…” You can’t help but hesitate, “Are you sure?”

She nods, placing your luggage now. “Of course, Master Kim asked us to prepare it for you.”

You instinctively flinch at the sudden mention of your husband, but the girl tilts her head to the side, curiosity peeking through her.

“Don’t they have such rooms in the L/N residence?” Her eyes suddenly widen, and she slaps a hand against her mouth, “Oh no, I-I didn’t mean it that way!”

A smile curls on the corners of your lips, “What’s your name?”

She gazes at you with surprise, like she had been expecting a scolding fit for her lifetime. Nonetheless, she hastily answers your question with a bow.

“I am Eunjoo, one of Master Kim’s most faithful servants.”

“Little flower.” You decipher, “Sounds like a fitting name.”

“It could have been summer’s grace.” Eunjoo offers with a shrug, “Though I don’t really like summer, so I’ve tried my best to ignore that meaning.”

You let out a genuine chuckle from that, something that has Eunjoo instantly beam. The news of her own Master getting married to someone from the L/N family was initially difficult for her to digest, but it appears that she was too early to judge.

A lopped smile etching onto your features, “And to answer your previous question, unfortunately the L/N’s don’t have such a residence. We’ve lost much of our wealth after‒…” You pause, biting back your words, “...after, you know.”

You wave your hand away in the air and Eunjoo understandably nods, no need to delve into the long-lived history of your families that is known to all. She hurriedly aids in you in unpacking much to your reassured protests, following and assisting you around like a little fairy. Her company ends up being both interesting and comfortable, especially since the two of you discovered the other wasn’t well in adapting the titles you carry.

A knock resounds against the door, drawing out your attention. Immediately Eunjoo drops the clothes in her hands, right before she straightens up and takes a graceful bow.

Her reaction is telling of who's at the door, so with pinched lips and a creased forehead, you turn around.

He remains glued to the door frame, still adorned in his tailored black suit. Aside from the similarity in his put together appearance though, his shoulders are no longer hiked up in a noble stance, nor is there any remaining amount of warmth spreading through his eyes. Instead, he appears akin to how he was in the split-second before your ultimate union was official, the memory causing the skin of your cheek to slightly burn.

Swaying from side to side, he hesitates to step into the room.

“I see you’ve met Eunjoo.” He mentions. On cue, the servant straightens up, a huge smile on her lips.

“I was just helping Miss Y/N unpack!”

“Oh that’s nice, perhaps I can assist to‒” He isn’t able to finish his sentence, because the next thing you know you jolt at the sound of a loud crash that echoes through the room.

“Master Kim!” Eunjoo immediately rushes forward, scurrying to help the fallen man. He instantly rises up to his feet and dusts off his suit jacket, but remains of glass are scattered all over the ground.

He lets out a groan and Eunjoo sighs, “Master, you know you have to be careful.” She begins to quickly pluck up the shards of the vase, raising one up to eye level with a pout, “I especially picked this one out for your newly wedded wife.”

At the mention of you, Namjoon instantly glances up, pupils shaking. “I-I can get you a new one soon, it might take around a week but if I put in a request now‒” He scrambles around for a moment, before checking the inner pockets of his jacket for something to write on in a haste.

Unconsciously, a small smile cracks through the seam of your lips, increasing as he tries to intervene with Eunjoo to pick the shards, and she protests that he shouldn’t get his hands soiled with her errands. He eventually has to sheepishly stand to the side, staring at her defeated like a child that had just gotten scolded for misbehaving.

Eunjoo eventually collects all the pieces and ushers herself out, reminding you of the pending family dinner you’ll need to attend in the evening. She leaves the room and you decide to resume unpacking, until you come across the realization that you’re not alone.

“Do you need help?” He peers at your suitcase behind you, “I’m usually more capable with things that aren’t easy to break.”

The abrupt proximity catches you by surprise, but you merely shake your head at his kind offer, “I should be fine, thank you.”

He nods and you assume he’ll excuse himself after a moment, but he lingers and that’s when you crane your head over at him.

Appearing to be in between a deep ponder, he snaps back into reality once your questioning eyes fall onto him. “Uh I‒” A lengthy sigh leaves his lips, “I know this is strange.”

You wonder what he's referring to until you notice him gesturing to the gap between you, “It’s strange for me, and it’s strange for you. We didn’t really have a choice in the matter.”

He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck, a deep crease forming between his brows. You’re frozen in place, at a complete loss for words.

He suddenly sucks in a breath, looking up to gaze into your eyes, “But I’d like to get to know you better….a-as my future wife.”

Your eyes round and his declaration only receives dead silence in its awake. Flabbergasted, he attempts to correct himself amidst your prolonged response.

“T-That doesn’t mean right away! We can take our time and I’m not expecting anything from you, so you don’t need to worry and‒”

“I’d like that.”

He freezes, “Wait, really?”

You hum, a corner of your mouth lifting, “You’re right, it’s strange. But I’d like to get to know my husband better as well.”

His eyes immediately sparkle, like you’ve said the very words he’s been aching to hear, “That’s great!” A breathtaking smile overtakes his features, “I guess I’ll see you at dinner then?”

You nod with a smile, and he departs, the euphoria never once leaving his lips.

***

Evening draws near and long gone is the dilatory white piece of garment that’s forever confined you to your fate. Instead, it’s replaced with a delicate fabric of rose gold, perhaps to represent the luxury you have of being present in such a place or in the new beginnings that will soon follow you.

Regardless, you prepare yourself. Although you’re simply arriving to dinner, there’s a family waiting at the table that you don’t know of yet.

Eunjoo brings you down with her after putting your hair up and presenting a pair of matching heels your way. You’re wary as you walk down the spiraling staircase, barely balancing yourself on the elevated shoes. Luckily, Eunjoo notices and helps you down, but the split moment of relief is met with a jolt of surprise when you notice someone waiting at the bottom.

“I’ll take it from here, Eunjoo.” The women amiably bids. Eunjoo swiftly bows, mumbling something along the lines of Mistress Kim, before heading into the dinner room.

You immediately whirl around, eyes on alert like a deer in headlights. She mirthfully smiles at you, carrying a warm tone in her eyes that feels familiar.

“You don’t have to look so worried,” She reprimands, “I’m not going to bite your head off.”

Your eyes widen even more, “I-I’m sorry?”

She bursts out into laughter, concealing her ruby red lips with a hand that is glittering in assorted jewels.

“Nothing, dear. I’m just teasing you.” You nervously laugh at that, and she places a hand against your back, guiding you forward. “Come, I’m eager to know what my son’s wife is like.”

Politely nodding, you follow behind her and nearly freeze. If you had expected your bedroom to be astonishing, then you weren’t prepared for the enormous buffet that waits for you ahead.

Pieces of food are scattered all over the decorated table, ranging from freshly cooked to foods you would have never imagined yourself eating. It reminds you of times your family could barely manage to have a decent meal for one night, lost scavenging for food that wouldn’t make your empty pockets hurt.

You’re so lost in the thought that you don’t feel someone brush by you. There’s suddenly a warm hand planting onto your shoulder, drawing your attention with a smile full of dimples.

“Do you want to sit down first?” He gestures to the table, where his mother sits next to his father and opposite to his sister. Embarrassed that you’ve been just gawking at the table, you hurriedly take a seat and so does Namjoon.

Even though you’re only just sitting at the table, it seems like all eyes are on you, burning into your skin and tracing every move. The impending silence eventually does crack though, and it’s done by a person you would have least expected.

“Is that chicken?” Namjoon’s father blurts out, his eyes following a tray one of the servants brings by. His wife immediately interjects, dismayed by his reaction.

“Indeed,” She points a demanding finger at him, “But none for you, there’s a reason why your health hasn’t been the greatest as of lately.”

He pouts at her response, longley staring at the dish once it arrives. The childlike display catches you a bit off guard, eyebrows raised.

“That’s unreasonable though.” He suddenly looks in your direction, “What do you think, Y/N? Isn’t she being unreasonable?”

The abrupt inquiry leaves you speechless, no coherent words manifesting at the tip of your tongue. His wife whirls around, cocking up a brow in his direction.

“Why are you dragging her into this?” She faces you with a smile, “Y/N is the newest addition to our family so we should make her feel welcome, not bring her into such trivial matters.”

The pleasant response astonishes you, but more so the mention of your inclusion. He lets out a sigh, acknowledging his wife’s sentiments.

“You’re right.” He turns to you, “Y/N, why don’t you tell us about yourself?”

His mother hums, “I’d like to hear about where you grew up, Y/N.”

“Oh, it’s nothing really special,” You grow bashful, “I was raised in the outskirts of the country by my parents.”

The two of them nod, intently listening to you, “Before coming here, I studied in the imperial academy for a while.”

“Ah, involved in the industry I see.” He praises, “You must know a lot about how our businesses are conducted, right?”

“Not quite.” There’s a strained smile on your lips, “I didn’t want to actively participate in it.”

Although your answer seems to have taken both of them by surprise, his wife hums in approval. “So I’m assuming that was your personal choice?”

When you nod, a giant smile stretches onto her lips, and she elbows her husband, “A gutsy one, don’t you think?”

He smiles in retaliation, “Just like you.”

She blushes at his sudden compliment, but a voice from afar breaks the two out of their daze.

“Gross - we’re eating here.”

Appalled at the feminine voice, you notice the young girl seated across from Namjoon, a deep frown etched onto her stern features.

“Leave them be, Geongmin.” Namjoon coaxes his sister, but she lets out a grunt of disapproval in the midst of eating soup.

The corners of his mother’s lips turn up and his father faces you again, looking as if he had a million questions up his sleeve lined up just for you.

Much to your surprise, the rest of the evening is spent exchanging pleasantries with them and keeping conversation light. There even comes a moment when both you and Namjoon end up reaching out for the bread basket, only to pull away once you discover your hands had ended up meeting halfway. As you grow bashful, you notice his mother smiling tenderly and his father chuckling at the abrupt affiliation.

Once the evening begins to come to an end, you excuse yourself through the use of your own fatigue and request to head to bed first. They waste no time in understanding, with Namjoon’s father even wrapping a hand around his son and expressing that he needed to discuss some things with him anyway.

You leave the room as he heads off with his family, granting you with some much-needed time and space.

***

Treading back, you pause at the large wooden door that leads into your room. Your eyes briefly skim over the fine carvings on the wood, instead choosing to scrutinize the direction of your right and left side. A shadow casts over your pupils and your hand presses against the door, letting it slowly creak wide open.

Step by step, you stroll inside and let the light fade out, replacing itself with only darkness.

The moment the source of luminescence disappears, you move within a flash. The handle is locked, tugged at for a confirmation. There’s a speck of radiance coming from the small lamp you’ve turned on, enough to see the large suitcase you’ve brought get yanked out.

Zippers are flying and the cover is ripped off. Clothes are frantically thrown astray, dumped into a careless heep without much of a second look. Your hands are weaving through the material and running rampant, eyes flickering with something akin to desire and alloyed with increasing unease.

Once your hands meet with metal, a twinkle emerges within your orbs. The spindle of ore is unwound; detangling the material in a quickened manner. It looks distinctly similar to what one would use for electrical purposes, set with the intention of providing light in grim areas.

Right. The intention.

Unraveled, you cautiously drift over to the large window by the bedside and crank it open. Peering outside, there’s no glimmer or streak of luminescence meeting your eyes, only a dark, simple gray sky.

Unconsciously a breath of relief leaves your lips and you reach out, reclining your body just enough to reach above and then below the window’s hilt. The instrument effortlessly blends in, appearing like a simple cable that’s been tightly strung around.

You lean back and rummage through the luggage on the ground, pulling out a small plastic box that doesn’t appear to be much, but more or less, is the sole thing you couldn’t have departed without. With a small hinged click, it connects to the thin barbed string you just unraveled and right when a quiet buzz resonates through, does a smile tugs on the corner of your lips.

A knock resonates through the box. Followed by another, and then another. It’s succeeded with a prolonged silence on your part, your entire body remaining in a frozen state.

Static echoes and you let out the air you didn’t realize you were holding from your lungs.

Within seconds, you are nimbly knocking against the box in repetitive notions. Your actions range from different types of knocks; heavy, light, twice the sound.

More static echoes and your eyes immediately widen, hands balling up into tighter fists.

A heavier one.

“I have….”

Lighter.

“...successfully infiltrated….”

One last firm knock.

“....the enemy household.”

807 notes · View notes

luvidzy · 3 years ago

Text

☆ genre: fluff

☆ pairing: kim seungmin x reader

☆ summary: an anonymous person is writing poetry and you are determined to get to the bottom of it

☆ word count: 3.2k

You honestly hadn’t even noticed at first. You weren’t really into the school paper, so you didn’t read it very often unless Felix decided there was something interesting you just had to know. Which is exactly how you found out about your secret admirer posting about you in the paper.

“Y/N, you have to see this!” Felix’s voice rang out as he slid into the seat next to you. You looked up, less than thrilled to be interrupted in the middle of trying to study for your Greek Classics test tomorrow, but you couldn’t stop yourself from setting your pencil down at Felix’s excited expression.

“Yes, Felix?” You asked, trying to hide the exasperation in your voice. If Felix noticed, he didn’t let him affect his excitement as he pulled the school paper out from under his arm, unrolled it and smacked it down on the table in front of you.

Your eyes scanned the front page, trying to figure out what Felix was so eager to show you, but nothing stood out. There was an article about the softball team, an article about an upcoming concert by 3racha, and a column that was talking about new things to do on campus. Nothing particularly interesting, and also nothing that you hadn’t seen before in the paper.

“So I was looking at the paper, and something caught my eyes. Come on, you have to read it,” Felix urged, his eyes sparkling as his freckles crinkled beside his eyes. You rested your forearms on the table, signalling to him that you were listening. Felix began to flip through the pages, before he landed on one of the latter ones.

His finger pointed out a small section of writing in the upper right hand corner. You squinted slightly, bringing the paper closer so you could look at the words. From what you could tell it, was a small three line poem that anyone would overlook if you weren’t paying attention. Lucky enough for you, Lee Felix always paid attention to the paper.

she sits so sweetly

sweater too big on her back

perfect to me

Eyes wondering over the black lettering, you felt your eyebrows furrow. There was no signature and not even a hint of who the poem might be addressed to. It seemed so out of place, yet your curiosity was growing every second.

“Does anyone know who wrote it?” You asked, turning to Felix. The blonde shook his head, pouting slightly.

“I asked Seungmin, but he said that they had just found it on one of the desks in an envelope with a note asking them to publish it,” Felix explained. You sighed, before sliding the paper away from you in favor of getting back to your studying.

“Well, keep me updated. Maybe next time we’ll know who this mysterious poet is, or maybe who he’s writing to.” Felix nodded eagerly, before pulling the paper back towards him and opening it up to read while you continued to study.

Of course, the poem wasn’t dropped there as Felix brought it up to your friends again that night as you hung out in Chan and Changbin’s apartment.

“It’s romantic, for sure. But I feel like it would be even more romantic if the person who it was for actually KNEW it was for them, ya know?” Jisung said as he threw a cheeto in the air and tried to catch it in his mouth. You stifled a giggle behind your hand as the cheeto flew back down and hit him in the face, causing him to pout.

“Maybe they wanted to test the waters? See if the person responded well before they actually did anything that might give them away?” Jeongin suggested, before stuffing some M&Ms into his mouth. Seungmin shrugged as he leaned back into his chair.

“I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see if we get any more envelopes.” You sighed, smiling slightly as you leaned back into the couch you were sitting on.

“How nice it must be to have someone write poetry about you. I don’t think anyone would ever do that for me,” you exclaimed dramatically, throwing a hand onto your forehead for effect. Minho snorted as he threw a piece of candy at you, causing you to shriek slightly.

“Maybe, if you weren’t such a dramatic bitch, people would actually fall for you.” You stuck your tongue out at the older male, crossing your arms with a pout on your face. He was probably right, but there was no need for him to be rude about it.

The next time the mystery poet wrote in the paper, you found out about it way too late at night. Your phone began to buzz incessently as you tried to focus on your paper, to no avail. Finally you gave in and picked up the phone.

“What?”

“Y/N, where are you right now?” Felix’s voice was rushed and enthusastic, and it took all your strength not to groan. How could he be so energetic this late at night, when all you wanted to be doing was sleeping instead of studying for you stupid exam. Seungmin, who had been joining you in your study nights the past few days, looked up with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m at the library with Seungmin. Why?” You replied, rolling your eyes to Seungmin who just snickered. He knew from personal experience that the only person who would give you this reaction so late at night was Felix.

“There was another poem posted in the newspaper! I was gonna tell you earlier but I couldn’t get a hold of you. Stay where you are, I’m on my way.” Felix rushed, before hanging up. You took the phone away from your ear, before looking to Seungmin with an accusing glare.

“There was another poem and you didn’t think to tell me?” You exclaimed, cringing as the librarian shushed you.

“I didn’t think you cared that much. Besides, why would I take away Felix’s gossip? What kind of friend would I be if I did that?” Seungmin chuckled at the pointed glare you sent his way, before you turned back to your paper to try and do some work before Felix got there.

You managed only another 2 paragraphs before Felix came bustling through the doors, trying to be as quiet and fast as possible. He finally crashed into the chair beside you, spreading the paper out before you. You shut your laptop as your eyes scanned the page, trying to find any sight of the poem.

“It’s a good one this time. You’ll have to see it,” Felix said, his grin more of a smirk as he flipped to the next page and pointed his finger at the lines of text that had been imprinted on the page. Your eyes immediately trained on it, scanning over the words in every line like a woman who’s seeing for the first time.

The girl in room 204

with the world on her shoulder

but a smile on her face.

I wish I could be your Atlas

and hold the sky up long enough

for you to take a breath and relax.

But despite the circumstances,

despite her exhaustion from

sleepless nights in the library,

her eyes glow as she talks

even if it is about the most mundane things.

I can’t help but stare and smile,

wondering if she will ever notice

that she means everything to me

and that I would gladly be condemned

to a lifetime of suffering if it meant

taking your pain for just a little while.

Your eyes widened as you looked at the poem, before you noticed the small print that was sitting underneath the beautiful lines.

-to the girl in room 204 of Levantar Hall

Your heart began to pound and you could practically feel the blood rushing to your face as you reread the tiny tag, the realization only setting in after the 5th time looking it over.

“Holy shit! Felix, these poems are addressed to me!” You exclaimed, turning to look at the bright smile of your best friend. He nodded eagerly as you turned back to the poem, rereading it with this newfound knowledge.

“And you said no one would ever write poetry for you,” Felix teased. You hit him lightly, before taking the paper and shoving it into your bag. You grabbed your laptop, slung your bag over your shoulder, before looking at the boys you were sitting with.

“Sorry gentleman, I have some sleuthing to do,” you said, before rushing out of the library, completely ignorant of the adoration in Seungmin’s eyes as he watched you go.

You spent the next few days waking up extra early and camping out outside of the newspaper office to try and catch the mystery person in action of dropping off their envelope, but you were always met with disappointment as Seungmin came in every morning with no sign of the admirer.

You were a bit bummed about it until you decided to read this week's newspaper and came upon a startling revelation.

Another poem.

so close yet so far

she would never know my love

it’s not my nature

You immediately called Felix, who agreed to meet up with you at the nearest cafe to discuss the poem. It wasn’t until you were sitting at a booth, coffees sitting in front of you that a revelation decided to hit you.

“Felix! I’m an idiot!”

“I mean, I know. But how so this time?” Felix said, causing you to throw a playful glare his way. You looked at the poem, before pointing at the poem in the paper and reading the words aloud.

“Okay?” Felix questioned, an eyebrow raised. You rolled your eyes at the thought of having to explain it all to Felix.

“I know whoever this is, Felix! The words insinuate it’s someone that I know, and someone who is not very affectionate with me!” You said proudly, happy that you had managed to narrow the list down. Felix nodded in understanding.

“So, that leaves only a few people, right? Cause all of your friends are pretty affectionate, outside of Minho and Seungmin, right?” Felix said, and you nodded, before freezing. Minho…. or Seungmin. You didn’t want to immediately jump to any conclusions, but you hadn’t seen anyone outside of the newspaper room outside of Seungmin and, being honest, you kind of wanted it to be him. You had had a crush on Kim Seungmin since freshman year of college and it would be like something out of a novel if it turned out to be him.

“Earth to Y/N! What’s the plan now?” Felix brought you from your daydream as you took a sip of the coffee in front of you. You furrowed your brows in thoughts, before her eyes lit up.

“I know! Felix, I just need to mention something incredibly specific to each of them! Any good writer would take advantage of the creative inspiration and incorporate it into their poem!” you announced, quite proud of yourself for coming up with the idea. Felix thought for a moment before he nodded.

“That’s so stupid, it might just work.” You pouted at his comment, before immediately looking at your phone, seeing the time, and stumbling to get up and rush out.

“I completely forgot I need to meet up with Minho for our project! Phase 1 starts right now!” You rushed out of the coffee shop, Felix laughing behind you as you nearly ran into the door due to your excitement.

True to your plan, while with Minho you brought up the extremely intricate topic of Andromeda and Perseus, a tale which you had learned about a month ago in your Greek Mythology class. You loved the story and thought it was incredibly interesting and a great muse if Minho turned out to be the secret admirer in the paper.

You didn’t see Seungmin for a few days, but that gave you time to think of the perfect topic to bring up to him. You wanted him to be your secret poet so badly and you wanted to make sure you gave him something that would definitely end up inspiring the next poem. It finally hit you as you sat with Seungmin and Jeongin in one of your University’s common areas.

“We learned about the story of Icarus in my Greek class the other day,” you started, making sure to look at Seungmin and see if he was listening to you. Sure enough he perked up, looking up to show you that he was taking in the words that were coming from your lips.

“Essentially, Icarus was the son of this great inventor, Daedalus, and they were both imprisoned in a tower. Daedalus made them 2 sets of wings to escape the tower, but they were made out of feathers and wax. When they were flying to escape, Icarus decided to not heed his fathers words and flew too close to the sun. The wax in his wings melted and he drowned. It’s a sad story, but it tells a tale of curiosity and how being too curious can lead to your downfall,” you explained, noticing how Seungmin had stopped writing as you told your story. Jeongin stared at you with a questioning glance.

“Why would Icarus fly so high if he knew he would die?”

“Well, I guess that depends on how you look at it. Some say he was just foolish and brash, but I personally like to think Icarus knew what would happen to him, but decided that the ability to be free and live in the excitement for even a moment was worth the consequences he knew would befall him.” Jeongin nodded, obviously thinking about the story. Satisfied with your work, you looked back down at your work, not noticing how Seungmin had flipped to a blank page in his notebook and was jotting down what seemed to be lines of poetry.

It was a few more weeks until another poem was posted, and you were starting to be concerned that the admirer had given up and decided to stop. That was until Felix, as expected, rushed into your dorm one day, completely scaring you out of your concentrated state.

“The poem was posted! And you’ll never believe it, but your plan actually worked!” Your stomach flip flopped as you realized that the moment of truth was about to be upon you. The minute you read the poem that laid in the ink of the school newspaper, you would know who was your secret admirer. Felix handed it to you and as your eyes went to the words, you silently prayed that it was the man you so desperately wanted it to be.

I am Icarus,

and she is the sun.

I don’t dare get to close,

even if her gleam,

bright against my rickety feathers,

warms me from the inside out.

I can never tell her how I feel,

I can never say a word,

but if I could I’d tell her she is golden to me.

That she is the heavens,

and I am just a mortal man

begging for her to let me in,

begging for her to let me love her,

begging for her to let me praise her,

because God knows that if I could

I would never stop spilling words of devotion to her.

I am Icarus,

and she is the sun.

My faux wings melt like candle wax

as I force myself closer to her,

because I’d rather fall out of her atmosphere,

then never experience her at all.

Your mouth dropped open as you finished reading the carefully crafted poem, your cheeks heating up and your mind running a mile a minute. It was Seungmin. Your secret admirer was Seungmin.

You rushed out of your dorm, the paper abandoned on your bed as Felix called after you, but you didn’t have any time to stop and explain. You glanced at your phone, realizing that if you made haste, you could catch Seungmin alone in the newsroom before he left for the day. You weaved through the halls of the journalism building, the only thing on your mind getting to the boy who had written some of the most beautiful words about you.

Seungmin was standing outside of the door, locking up the room for the day, when you barrelled down the hallways and basically tackled him into a hug. He grunted as your arms wrapped around him and he stood there for a moment, completely unsure of what to do in this situation. You didn’t give him any time to react though, pulling back and staring at him with a smile rivalling the sun.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Seungmin asked, genuinely confused. He had a long day and you weren’t making any sense right now. You rolled your eyes playfully, before looking at him with a smirk.

“That you were Icarus and I was the sun.” Seungmin’s mouth dropped open as you repeated the words he had written back to you. His usually sharp mind was completely blank as he tried to figure out what to say in response to you, but once again you didn’t give him time to think as you pulled him in for another hug.

This time, Seungmin allowed himself to wrap his arms around you in return and give you a squeeze. Months of pining after you and he was finally doing what he had fantasized about so many times. You nuzzled yourself into his neck, giggling as he let out a soft gasp, completely unused to the physical affection you were showing him.

“So, does this mean the poems worked?” Seungmin joked, his cheeks red as you pulled back again. You let out a laugh, nodding happily as you kept your arms slung around his neck.

“Of course! To be honest, I’ve had a crush on you for a while now. I was really glad when I found out it was you,” you said, staring at him sheepishly. He smiled softly at you, before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“What gave it away though?” He asked. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“You really think I just threw all that philosophical stuff about Icarus out there for nothing? I was hoping you’d pick up the clue and use it for some creative inspiration,” you said. Seungmin nodded, feigning a look of impressiveness.

“That’s pretty smart for you.” You punched him lightly in the arm, eliciting a chuckle from the boy as he grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers together, leading you down the hallway.

“So, does this mean your poems are going to stop?” you asked, unable to hide the pout in your voice. Seungmin smiled a little bit, giddy that you liked his poems so much.

“I mean, at least the public poems. But I’ll write you all the poems you want in private. But they will be for your eyes only. Can’t let anyone know that I went soft for you,” he said jokingly. You let out a laugh, squeezing his hand as he laughed along with you.

Honestly, you didn’t mind if the poems were public or private. It was more than enough for you that Seungmin was holding your hand right now, speaking words of love that held more meaning than any poem about Icarus ever could.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #kim Seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin imagines #kim seungmin fluff #seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin imagines #seungmin fluff #stray kids x reader

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happyandticklish · 3 years ago

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Tickletober Day Four - Fingers

Notes: I felt doing a pynch fic was only appropriate for the prompt, and I missed my boys, so here’s this! I was in a yearning mood while writing this, so it might be particularly sappy, fair warning.

Summary: Ronan has a slight obsession with Adam’s hands and everything they can do to him.

Ronan had always loved Adam’s hands. Long, nervous fingers always plucking at his shirt or drumming against a knee; Ronan often found that it was easier to read his emotions from his hands than his face. Yet at the same time those hands were strong, callouses etched into the skin that spoke of years spent hefting parts and managing the intricate details of a car’s interior. They were the hands of someone much older, already exhausted at eighteen. Nevertheless, the boyish nature to them was evident in the way the knuckles stuck out and the freckles spattering the skin from days in the sun.

No matter how he looked at them, however, there was something so intrinsically Adam about them. Nervous and determined, skillful in the ways that counted, and curious, skimming across tabletops and railings when he walked as though they too were desperate to take in as much of the world as they could. More than anything, Ronan loved his hands because they were Adam’s hands, and therefore breathtaking just by their very existence.

In addition, Ronan loved the way Adam’s hands felt. The barest touch of his fingertips against his arm sent electricity running through his veins, his body’s attention entirely taken by that one point. Cupping the back of his neck, tracing his back, running through his hair, sliding up his torso…. Hands feeling, exploring, admiring, and making Ronan feel in ways he hadn’t thought possible before.

Now, Ronan’s head fell back against the couch, his eyes closed as those wonderful hands wrung all variety of curses and laughter from his lips. Blunt nails dragged down his sides, pausing to scratch at his hips before beginning their ascent once more. Ronan’s own hands gripped the edges of the couch as he did everything in his power to hold himself back from stopping the unbearable sensations.

Ronan was silent during these moments except for his laughter, which broke out of him in explosive bursts, chaotic like most things about him. Sometimes Adam would pin him, but mostly Ronan held himself back, holding onto any available surface—which often happened to be his arms—and forcing himself to go against his body’s natural instincts.

His control was an enigma that Adam himself did not understand; Ronan had to hold Adam down whenever he tickled him or someone would get kicked in the face. It fascinated him all the same, and each and every time Adam found himself testing it, unable to help himself.

“I like you like this,” Adam mused, continuing to torment that one spot. It wasn’t the most sensitive area on Ronan’s body by far but it was uniquely unbearable and made him desperate in a way that Adam was addicted to. “I love seeing this side to you. I love that only I get to see it.”

Ronan’s laughter pitched helplessly at his words, and he threw his head back. His mind was unraveling in the best way. All he could focus on was Adam, Adam, Adam, that voice and those damned hands.

Adam moved on only because a need was rising in him to draw out more and more reactions from Ronan. He spider-walked down his ribs, pressing into the bone and prompting a snort from the other. Scratching at his sides released those heart-stopping giggles that always made Adam pause to appreciate the sound. Squeezing his hips caused Ronan to arch, frantic yelps tumbling into another cascade of uproarious laughter. He squirmed when Adam wiggled fingers over his stomach, making him bite his lip as he fought back gentle chuckles. He never laughed much when tickled here, but it was as though suddenly he couldn’t stay still, jerking and twitching constantly in his grasp for some escape that he himself wouldn’t allow.

That gave Adam an idea. “Hold on. I want to try something.” He pressed his hands flat against Ronan’s stomach, waiting for the other to calm down enough to even think of responding.

“Yeah?” Ronan asked, flushed and breathless. He tensed, sure it was going to be some new method, some spot yet untried, and almost certainly ticklish.

Adam gently traced a line down his stomach and Ronan’s breath caught in his throat. “What am I saying?”

And then the finger was moving again, swirling around and up in intervals on his stomach. Letters. Words. A grin wobbled on Ronan’s features and he tried to focus. However, the more he tried to follow its path, the more attuned his body came to its presence, until the featherlight touch of that one finger was the only sensation that mattered. All at once Ronan understood his game. Adam was smirking, the gesture all at once affectionate and teasing, a look that said I know.

Ronan hated and loved and needed that look.

He had missed the first few letters, but he tried to pay attention now. An M, most likely, and then a Q, which prompted a gasp as Adam circled his skin suddenly. U, A, another M. Ronan furrowed his brow, the letters not fitting together at all in the way they should.

A, L, his laughter stuttered and faltered with each new direction of the finger, his skin trembling where it touched. T, E—

“Alter idem,” Ronan exhaled, grabbing his hand as the realization caught him. Adam gifted him with that rare, pleased expression of his that always made Ronan feel as though he had found the answer to some secret puzzle and this was his reward. “Tamquam alter idem.”

“Of the same soul,” Adam agreed softly. “Two in one.”

Ronan lifted his fingers to his lips and kissed each one in turn. Adam’s breath stilled as he watched him, heart quickening. Finally, Ronan pressed a final, gentle kiss against the back of his hand, letting it go.

Adam coughed, ignoring the blush on his cheek. “Don’t think you’re going to distract me from the task at hand. You’re still the one underneath me, remember?”

Ronan grinned, a thrilling, daring sight. “I’m aware. I’m counting on you to do your worst.”

“Oh, I plan to.”

And, as the lazy afternoon dragged on, Ronan allowed himself to surrender to those hands once more.

#tickle fic #tickletober #pynch #the raven cycle #ronan lynch #adam parrish #trc #tickletober2021 #fanfiction #tickling #drabble

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violetsoju · 4 years ago

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overdrive

iwaizumi hajime · fluff · 1.7k

summary: iwaizumi seriously needs to get work done, without his mind going into overdrive

a/n: the product of spending too many nights in the library because i can't get work done back in my room

The reason why Iwaizumi doesn’t like studying in the library open space is because there’s too many people.

High school students hogging seats that are evidently not enough to cater for the university’s own students. Half-zombified students surviving on energy drinks sprawled on the table, escaping reality by taking a catnap. Students with earbuds stuck into their ears, tapping away on their phones or watching videos under the cool air-conditioning instead of the scorching heat outside. Or those who Iwaizumi wonders how they even got accepted into university because they’re clearly illiterate, making sure everyone around them knows what’s on their mind despite the big red ‘quiet please’ sign hanging on the wall next to them.

“It’s distracting.” he grumbles. “How am I supposed to focus with so many people roaming around, not to mention the background noise I didn’t ask for.” The endless flow of people rolling before his eyes has him rubbing his temples in distress.

“It just means that you’re not focused enough, Iwa.” Your eyes never leave the laptop before you, fingers swiftly tapping on your keyboard.

He shoots a glare to your direction. “Why don’t you try sitting in my position and see if you’ll say the same.”

A scoff sounds in the air. “As if it’s not the same on my end.”

Iwaizumi should be used to squeaking noises on the polished concrete surface, given the years of spending most of his youth living in the school gym. But the shuffles and squeaks behind him now has his jaw clenched tight, fingers coiled together.

“Admit it. You’re just distracted by me.”

Two pairs of eyes lock. One with a glint of tease and mischief, one with a glint of exasperation and fatigue.

“As if.” You smirk at his response, clicking your tongue knowingly as you trail your eyes back on the bright laptop screen.

As if you’re the reason why he’s distracted. What absolute nonsense.

But if you’re not, why did he reply so hastily, mouth working faster than his brain, as if he was trying to hide something? As if someone broke the passcode to his closely-guarded safe that safeguards his hidden stash of valuables and treasures?

Is that why he firmly insists on studying in the quiet area, all the way in the deep end of the library, where one is confined to a study pod each? No random humans lurking in sight, just a laptop screen, and three mounted walls enclosing the small yet breathable space. The cries of help from keyboards being murdered mercilessly by the rapid finger smashing filling the air.

A space where everyone has their minds shackled to the device before them, head swimming in overloaded information too much for poor brains. A space where the only distraction is the faint cries only audible to oneself screaming this is too much.

That’s the space Iwaizumi needs to be in. And that’s the only distraction he needs.

Or the only distraction he can afford to have.

Because the rest are definitely too much.

One, in particular, is definitely too much.

His eyes act on their own will, something he can’t hold rein of.

It captures every small detail of the figure seated opposite him. You, to be specific.

The way your brows furrow together in complete concentration. He’s sure that you’ll be the one having wrinkles earlier than him, despite your constant nagging of how he shouldn’t crumple up his face in disgust at the sight of couples making out on campus in broad daylight.

The way you heave out heavy, long sighs every half an hour, like a fire-breathing dragon spouting flames from its mouth. Not as scary as Godzilla though.

The way you rest your temple against your knuckles, gradually tilting sideways like the Leaning Tower of Pisa as your elbows slip further. It’s a miracle you don’t lose balance at that angle.

The way your hand travels downwards towards the side of your neck, knuckles planted behind your ears to keep the weight of your head in place. Sometimes they’re curled together in a straight neat line. Sometimes they trek little lower, tucked under your jaw near to your ear. Sometimes just a finger is all you need to support the mass above your shoulders. Iwaizumi has honestly lost count of the number of poses you can make, which he has to admit, are better than those watch or jewellery models plastered on glossy magazine pages.

When your fingers wrap the side of your neck, or when your fingers splay across your neck and collarbone, he wonders if he can cradle your neck with his hand like a snug pillow. He knows how small your hands are compared to his large ones, how soft your palms are compared to his calloused ones, worn from years of practice. He wonders how it’ll feel against your smooth bare skin.

He wonders if he has his fingers wrapped around the nape of your neck, closing the gap by pulling you towards his chest to feel your heartbeat thumping against his, would your breath hitch, shudder under his touch from the sparks ignited from the sudden difference in skin texture, or would you melt into his touch, into the warmth of his palm that’s just a quarter of the fire in his burning heart that’s set ablaze by you?

When you part your lips to apply lip balm onto your dried lips caused by the low humidity, he wonders which lip balm you’re using today. Is it the normal original one? The peach flavoured one? Or the manuka honey one?

He licks his own dehydrated lips although he knows it would make it worse. When you smack your lips to even out the wax-like substance, he wonders how it feels like, how it tastes like. Does it really taste like peaches? Or like sweet honey dripping from your eyes at the sight of food?

He could find out by reaching out his hand to borrow it from you. But he wonders how it would feel like from your lips, how it would taste directly from your lips.

It’s a childish thought, but using a lip balm that has touched your lips on his is like an indirect kiss. High-school Iwaizumi would be a blushing mess at the thought. But Iwaizumi is all grown up now. If he were to want a kiss, he would want a direct kiss. Lips on lips. Flesh on flesh. Nothing in between.

But he remembers that his lips are slightly dry and chapped, which would be such a turnoff to mould it with your moist plump ones. But what better way to moisturise one’s lips with another?

When you tap your lips, deep in thought – as if taunting his previous thoughts – he wonders if he’s ever met anyone who does that instead of tapping their chin. And when you jab your thumb on your lower lip, knuckles brushing your upper lip, he wonders how your lips feel like. He has wiped away food stains from the side of your lips numerous times, but it was always the napkins that had the honour of gracing your skin. Are they as soft and plush as they seem?

Are they as dreamy and kissable as they seem?

He wants to find out for himself, to feel for himself. He wants to trace the curves of your lips with his fingertips, to feel each line carved on your lips, to memorise each slope and dip of your lips. If he can’t use his sense of taste to recognise your lips, at least he’ll know it’s you with his sense of touch.

Oh, just when he thinks that you look good in a certain lipstick colour, you prove him otherwise when you appear with a different shade the next day. It’s funny how all the shades of red and coral displayed look disturbingly identical in the shops you drag him into, but he can tell at first sight that they’re a different shade when it’s on your lips. He always finds it amazing how you blend different tones together to make your already desirable lips more alluring. It isn’t the colour that brings out the extra shine in you; it’s you who brings the pop of colour alive.

And he wonders how that pop of colour would look like on his bronze skin tone.

When you run your fingers through your hair in frustration, he wonders how it’ll feel like if those were his fingers. He’d run through them gently, soothing them out affectionately. He’d comb through each strand of hair with his fingers delicately.

He wonders how it’ll feel like with your fingers running through his hair, featherlike fingers caressing his scalp tenderly. It’s such a soft gesture that melts even the toughest of hearts. He wonders if you would tug his hair, if you would curl your fingers over his short cut. Would it be in playful manner? Or a desperate manner? Most importantly, when, why and where you would do that.

Let’s not get started on how your tongue peeks out the side of your mouth, running along your sharp yet cute fang teeth that could shred one into pieces. Or when you stick out your tongue teasingly at him when you catch him staring.

What’cha looking at? Eyes on the laptop, not me.

It’s a cute harmless gesture for you, but god knows how it’s a gesture drives his mind into overdrive. Something you're not ready to know about, yet.

There are too many wondering thoughts, thoughts deemed unnecessary and distracting when he’s with you. That’s why he insists on having a barrier wedged between the both of you, especially when he needs to get actual shit done. All he can see now is the crown of your head, and your sneakers beneath the table that are a few inches away from his. That’s all he needs and can handle on his plate right now.

Right now, there’s more important things to be done. Not that you’re not important. If you’re not important, you wouldn’t be driving him up the wall with such subtle movements and gestures.

Important things that require his attention right here, right now are things like the two thousand essay that’s due tomorrow. The e-mail from his professor regarding the group assignment progress that he has yet to reply. The mini army of tabs armed with journal articles waiting to be read.

Like any other day, Iwaizumi hopes and prays that his mind will cooperate with him to set gear into the right direction. If he could put off pouring his heart out for so many years, then these crazy yet valid thoughts could wait too.

He knows they’ll be worth the wait too.

#iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime x y/n #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime fluff #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu scenarios #iwaizumi scenarios #hq imagines #hq scenarios #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi headcanons #iwaizumi hcs #iwaizumi oneshot

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years ago

Text

Superstitions and Curses

Pairing: mummy!Bucky Barnes x archaeologist!Reader

Warnings: slight dubcon, obsessive and soft!dark!Bucky, mentions of torture and being buried alive.

Words: 2163.

Summary: It wasn't your first expedition, but pretty much the first time when you had helped to bring an ancient being back from the dead.

P.S. Huge thanks to dear @navegandoaciegas who helped me get inspired again <3

_______________

"Please, let me in."

You clenched the amulet in your hands, nervously staring at the door of a hotel room and hoping he wouldn't enter. Despite the fact that you were an archeologist, a woman who believed in nothing but science, you were ready to pray to all the gods if it would help to keep this creature away.

"I mean no harm to you." His husky, dangerously low voice made you lick your lips as you thought of all the things he whispered in your ear the other night. "Didn't you like the way I treat you, love?"

"It was a spell you put on me!" You furrowed your brows, making a step away from the door and bumping into a nightstand with a loud thud - the bottle of water in top of it fell down to the floor.

"A spell?" The man behind the door chuckled, and you could hear him breathing out loudly as he peered through the crack in the door, his hands pressed against the dark wood. "You know I haven't done anything of this kind. What you felt was the chemistry between us, don't deny it."

It was true. That night when all you wanted was to forget the events of the last couple of days, forget all about the whole reason why you came to this ancient country, you rushed to a bar to get drunk like a fish, hoping the next morning once you'd wake up, it would all be a bad dream and nothing more. That's where you met him, the man who you had seen laying in his grave just a couple of hours before. Of course, you didn't know it was him - he looked like any other man, enough flesh on his bones not to cause any suspicion.

Oh, but it was him. He had followed you in that bar, pretending to be a stranger eager to know you; fooling you, he soon slipped into your room where he made love to you, completely drunk and fallen under his charms. How stupid you were, trusting a complete stranger after what had happened that day.

It was several hours after when you woke up in the night, and the moonlight coming from the window lit the room a little: as you stared at the man sleeping soundly next to you, you saw the ancient symbols on his chest.

The next minute you were out of your room, hoping he wouldn't wake up in the next hour. It would give you enough time to reach the railway station.

Why was he following you? You could understand his reasons since you had pretty much broken his tomb and opened his grave, but why on Earth did he sleep with you? Why didn't he kill you? Was it some kind of a ritual? Despite the fact that you were specializing on local customs and traditions, you have never heard of anything of that kind.

"You can't get rid of me." He murmured behind the door, and you sensed something wicked, resentful in his voice.

"Why can't I? What do you want from me?" You asked on the verge of tears, your arms trembling - you very much doubted the amulet you were holding was of any use to you.

"Shhhh." He cooed softly, feeling you fear and somewhat content with it. "I promise I won't hurt you. Let me in, love. Let me in."

For a couple of seconds you froze, listening to the man breathing softly behind the door. Strangely, you could almost hear his heart beating in his chest as if he really were human, not a rotten corpse you saw in the coffin a couple of days ago. The night you spent together you felt like he was the most tender and affectionate man you had ever met. Why did he do it? What was his purpose? Why were you opening the door for him when he ordered you to do it with that hypnotic voice of his?

You realized he had entered your room once he touched your cheek with his hand, rough fingers brushing against your wet skin. Oh, apparently, you were crying.

"I know it is beyond your comprehension, but please trust me, My Immortal Beloved." He made a step forward as you shriveled and slinked back, staring at his perfectly blue eyes adorned with black kohl. "Do not be scared. Even though it seems horrifyingly wrong to you, things are exactly as they were meant to be."

Despite the fact you had a thousand questions inside your head, the words were stuck in your throat. You couldn't even scream, asking for help. Besides, it would be pretty worthless, wouldn't it? No one could protect you from someone who rose from the dead.

"You were meant to open my tomb and set me free. You were meant to resurrect my body and let my soul return to it."

When you reached the wall, your back pressed to it as if you wanted to slip through the stone, the man had inched closer to you and lowered his hand on your chest, the other one right in front of your face as he moved his hand, drawing a circle in the air with his palm. I see you. You are important to me, a sign of both trust and affection - you had seen it so many times on ancient drawings it was imprinted on your brain.

What? Why was he doing it? Why it was you who set him free? You were just one of a whole team of archaeologists and wage earners. You did nothing special, nothing that differentiated you from others - you weren't the one who physically opened it nor did you read any ancient spells locals were so superstitious about. You were as much in shock as all others when the mummy had suddenly disappeared from the tomb.

At first, even though most of you were people of science, all of you thought of ancient curses and all those archaeologists who had supposedly died from it. Then, when you came to your senses, you thought of the thieves who might had taken the mummy. But then again, although it were the remains of someone very, very important, no treasures were buried with him - apparently, this person had done something terrible when he was alive, especially remembering the curses written on the walls. So why steal just the corpse, then? Without decent care, the bones would crack within minutes of carrying them. Why would thieves want the mummy?

"I want to come back home." You whispered, shivering and averting your eyes.

"I will bring you whenever you want once you swear loyalty to me, love."

You blinked as you stared at his tanned face, symbols painted with gold shining on his temples. It was getting more and more insane with every passing minute.

"Why would I swear loyalty to you?"

"Because I am your Sun, Moon and the Stars in between."

The silence felt heavy, suffocating as you kept looking at the man, not knowing what to say. He was right - you didn't understand a thing. You didn't even know who he was and why you swearing loyalty to him seemed so important so this stranger. The only thing you knew for sure was that he was dangerous, far more dangerous than any other human being - you felt it in your bones.

"Before I d-do that, may I know your name?" You wanted to add something like "Your Majesty", but you had no idea what kind of title the man once had - that is, if he had any at all.

He chuckled, "It would be hard for you to pronounce. But you can call me James, it is the closest you can get."

A part of you was offended - for heaven's sake, you were specializing on this exact area and surely knew how to pronounce ancient names - but the other part of you now wondered how come this being knew a real English name and could actually speak modern language. Surely, he was at least a thousand years old. How come?..

"Why were you buried so disrespectfully?" You started questioning him out loud, furrowing your brows. "This is not my first expedition, but I have never seen a tomb like yours before. No treasures, no name, nothing that could identify you at all."

"The Witch-king, that's how they called me." His handsome face darkened, and the man took a step away, turning his back to you. "The one who had surpassed his high priest and could read the Book of the Dead. Once my chancellors learnt about me practicing the magic of the ancient, they made my priests spread the word to my people, and I have been overthrown. They have tortured me, blinded me, cut off my limbs, and then sealed me away in the tomb when I was still alive. Because of their fear of me and my powers, they condemned me to the worst of fates, and broke the line of kings."

As he kept speaking, his dark long robe fell down to the floor, opening his half-naked tan body to you: you saw two deep scars on his shoulders that still looked raw, horrifying you - the man was telling you the truth. He had been dismembered.

"They have cursed me to stay neither truly dead nor alive till one day somebody would open my tomb and set me free. They have kept the location of my grave a secret, thinking no one would ever discover it in the sand, but they all were wrong. I will suffer no more in that place where not a single ray of light had shone over two thousands of years."

Your head was spinning from all this, and you quietly slid to the floor, your hands in your hair as you tugged on the roots in frustration and fear. For the love of God, was it all true? Did you help resurrect the ancient being that could use some scary black magic and probably kill lots of innocent people? Did he want to drag you along with him once you swear loyalty to him? If you didn't, would he actually murder you?

"But this is of no importance now." The man turned back to you and, suddenly seeing you on the floor, hurried to gently pick you up and place you on a spacious bed, watching you with worry. "I am sorry for I have frightened you, love. I swear this was not my intention."

You had troubles understanding what his intention was, but you kept silent, too scaried to say something to him. You had a dozen thoughts what a creature like him would want to do to people for all his suffering.

You should have left that damn tomb alone when your team found twice more death traps than in any other grave. You read the curses left on the walls, but they only fueled your interest. Of course, you had never been superstitious in your entire life, so you simply disregarded all the signs that now seemed so clear you were ready to slap yourself.

"Why am I important?" You asked in a shaky voice, your eyes trailing down his chest with ancient symbols tattooed on it. "Why spending a night with me? I am just a woman. I have opened the tomb, but I was one of many."

"No, you are special. You won't understand now, not yet, but think of it as your destiny. Your fate is bound to mine."

As he inched closer to you, you finally realized you were almost in bed with a half-naked handsome man resurrected from the dead. Immediately crawling back, your stared at him wide-eyed. No, no, no, whoever he was and whatever he thought your fate was, you didn't want him in your bed the second time! Well, almost. Maybe you wanted a little bit. Just a little.

"S-so, are you going to destroy the country and claim your kingdom again?"

Your words made him laugh as he bared his perfectly white teeth while touching the side of your face.

"Two thousand years were enough to change my priorities. Ruling the world of humans who know nothing of magic isn't interesting to me anymore."

"I see. That's a relief." You murmured, still very uncomfortable with him being so close to you. "Please, can I just leave? There are millions of women, I'm sure you'll find someone more attractive to be your... your concubine."

_____________

"Concubine? I did not have a concubine, and neither did my ancestors." The man tilted his head to the side, looking at you surprised as you were ready to bite yourself for your own stupidity: of course, the rulers of these lands only started having concubines in the fourth dynasty and onwards, James was definitely either from the first or second one. "I can't let you leave, love. You will have to come with me."

Part 2

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @iheartsebastianstan @ninefuckingoneone

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #mcu #mcu fanfiction #yandere

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joshstambourine · 4 years ago

Text

What Friends Do Pt. 4

Word Count: 2047

Warnings: Cursing, Drug Abuse

Synopsis: Josh and Jake are surprised when an old friend stumbles back into their lives, taking their world by storm with old feelings, new feelings, and problems they never would have expected.

Josh Kiszka x Fem!Reader x Jake Kiszka

Taglist: @anditsmywholeheart @babydxll @gretavanfleetlove

"Thanks for coming out with us (Y/N), we definitely need to do this again sometime." Josh smiles at her, his hands in his pockets with his book tucked under his arm.

"Yeah we really do." (Y/N) agreed, holding her bag tightly despite it hanging off her shoulder, fingers tapping against the strap of her bag. She tried not to make it obvious, as her leg began rattling itself back and forth--- she was getting noticeably fidgety.

"Sometime soon maybe?" Josh continued to suggest, "Maybe we could like... I dunno do a chill dinner or something at my place with everyone?" Josh suggests looking at Jake to get some form of confirmation.

Jake nodded a little, eyes lightly glancing to (Y/N)'s leg as it moved. They then jumped up to look at her side profile. 'Why is she shaking so much…?'

"Maybe… uh… what day is it again..." (Y/N) starts as her eyes shut a touch, beginning to rub at the back of her neck. Head leaning from side to side in thought, there was a beat of silence as she thought. “Uh.... Saturday maybe?” She suggests finally, an expression across her face showed that she… might not have figured out what day it was in the end.

Josh is soon nodding to her, “I can make that work.” He smiles, he didn’t seem bothered by the sudden antsy movements (Y/N) had begun to make, nor the slightly vacant look in her eyes. “Text me?”

(Y/N) nods quickly, “I will!” She hums, “I better get going! I’ll see you guys later?” She continues just as swiftly.

“See you!” Josh cheers, watching as (Y/N) began to walk away from them.

“Yeah see ya…” Jake utters, unlike his twin her movements didn’t sit well with him. Quite the opposite. When (Y/N) was far enough away, Jake turned to Josh with a curious look. “...Did… did she seem off to you?” He asks with a sideways expression.

Josh’s brows furrowed, “What do you mean by “off”, exactly?”

"I dunno… she just seemed really jittery, all of a sudden." Jake utters, he honestly just curious.

Josh began to start down the sidewalk, it took him a moment, he seemed to be deciding himself if he wanted to branch onto the matter. "She did yeah…" Josh finally responds with a small sigh, it wasn't in a nonchalant way, but Josh’s tone made it clear to Jake that he wasn’t surprised by the thought.

"...should we ask her about it?" Jake slowly inquired, his brow perking up a little.

"No we shouldn't." Josh quickly replies, picking up the pace as his hand searches his pocket for his car keys.

Jake is startled by just how quick and how loudly his twin had responded. "...uh… why not?" Jake soon inquired.

"It's none of our business." Josh says in a serious tone, which was a strange look for him. Not that Josh wasn't capable of being serious, just that he normally didn't show so much fervor in being serious.

Jake's brows furrowed a touch more. "Josh… why can't we ask her about it?" He said in an equally as serious tone.

By this point Josh was reaching to unlock his car, his gaze keeping low.

"She's your friend isn't she? If it's something important shouldn't we talk to her?" Jake continued to press, Josh gritting his teeth a little though he didn't notice.

"There's nothing wrong okay? We don't need to talk to her. She's fine." Josh quickly snapped,

"But--" Jake started,

"It’s none of your business okay Jake? So just--” Josh stopped before shaking his head, his arm now rested along the edge of his slightly opened car door. “I'm not talking about it anymore okay?" Josh finally says. "I'll see you later." He muttered a little under his breath, opening the door wide to slip behind the steering wheel.

Jake’s eyes had narrowed as his twin did this. What was he hiding? More importantly, why was he hiding it? Jake was his twin, and (Y/N) was his friend… so what was the point?

Even after Jake had moved on and left Josh behind, his twin sat in his car without making any movement to start the engine or drive off; he just stared ahead tiredly. Josh had noticed many things about (Y/N) in that brief meal. Some that made him proud… others that made him more upset than he would care to admit.

(Y/N) was her own person. She always had been. A little wild and fun when he had needed it. A little sweet and affectionate when it was important to him. (Y/N) had always been what Josh had needed despite all the bullshit in their lives. Sometimes Josh found himself wishing that he had been more like that for her… maybe she would have kept in touch with him if he had. He was still sour about that. Not that he would ever say anything to her about it, it was her choice to "lose touch" to lose touch after all.

It was becoming all consuming. That one thought; it had been there the whole time just lingering, waiting for it’s chance to spread throughout his waking consciousness. Jake's mentioning it just freed it from its cage. That bag in her purse had clearly dwindled down but the white powder was still seen and could be clearly recalled.

(Y/N) was using again. That was a certainty. The question that Josh kept wondering was; had she ever actually stopped? She… wouldn’t have lied to him about going sober… would she?

Josh slowly came to rest his forehead against the steering wheel, pinching his eyes shut. Those questions were so bitter, absolutely poisonous to his thoughts. Was he just that untrustworthy? Maybe… maybe he had been, at another point in his life. It wasn’t something Josh liked to consider, but perhaps he had lost her trust a long time ago and he had just never noticed.

The feeling of warm sun against his skin lulled him into distant memories, ones that he had tried to feign ignorance to.

(Y/N)’s silhouette barely able to be made out. Her arms spread wide as she spun in circles. Unbothered by the fact that she was dripping from head to toe in some sort of punch. Her dress stuck to her sides as she moved, tracing every slight twist in her torso. Her laughter was what had always been unnerving to think about. How absent it was.

She was standing dead center in the middle of a party. One of those senior parties that you just couldn’t afford to miss if you were invited to. Josh could remember her hair falling but still sticking to her skin, mascara running in dark smudges across her face. Everyone in the room knew that she wasn’t there. (Y/N) was somewhere entirely else. The way she sang her own song out loud made that abundantly clear.

It was one of the first times Josh had seen her like this; lost in some other place. It wouldn’t be the last. It was the beginning of something… unhealthy.

Josh couldn’t remember what he had said to her exactly at that moment. Was it… something along the lines of “Are you stupid?” or “You’re so embarrassing!”, he couldn’t be sure. What Josh did know was that his hands were clenched on her arms tightly not long after that moment. Her eyes reflected the lights floating around the party, and something else… something deeper. (Y/N) was terrified.

Despite how far away she was on everything else… she had been with him for that moment. That moment Josh had shown more anger than he had intended. The fear would only be there for a moment, as recognition came in to replace it.

She squirmed in his grip, “L-let go of me!” She exclaimed, finally able to shake his hands off her person. “I’m fine.” She said in a roar, despite the fact she had stumbled and now was leaning a little to her side.

Her hands rubbing at the spots he had once held in a fanatical way. “I’m more than fine!” She continued, “This is the first time in my… in my whole life I’ve felt… free.” (Y/N) exclaimed, her eyes narrowing at him. “I know you don’t want me to be. But I do!” She sneered.

Josh always remembered her saying that; he didn’t really understand what she had meant until later on when he looked back. (Y/N) had liked him for a lot of their youth… and perhaps the way he had treated her --- always taking and never really giving back, made her feel… suffocated or trapped? That wasn’t all of it… but he knew that certainly was a part of it.

Her arms had soon lifted not long after, “Can you not let me feel free for a little while?” She asked, gesturing out words to the room full of other classmates and other kids that attended the schools in the area. Not many had paid attention; it wasn’t the first time someone's girlfriend had a bad trip or was drunk at one of these parties, they were good at tuning it out. Teenagers tend to be good at that; being very selective in things they wanted to give their concern to.

He knew that she had lost trust in him at that moment, but what he did next only added to it.

Seeing the few lingering looks of concern from people he knew, he felt his cheeks get red with embarrassment. He began to shake his head, “Fine… fine, you’re not my problem anyways.” Josh began to say, pursing his lips a little in annoyance at her behavior. “Be free.” He tells her, stepping back and turning on his heels.

Josh had left her alone at that party. He went off to hang out with another girl, and really didn’t think any more of that moment. He had woken up hungover and just unwilling to budge on his anger towards her for being so embarrassing.

Josh still strongly thought that maybe if he had done something more, even just… took her home? If her trust in him would have healed a little. After that point (Y/N) had become much more secretive, she wouldn’t talk to him about personal things any more like they used to. She wouldn’t tell him who she was hanging around with. Josh had… accepted it. It wasn’t like (Y/N) was his girlfriend, nor was she his property. He didn’t need to know those things, but… it was just a full 180 from where they had been before as friends.

Josh took a long breath. Lifting his head from the steering wheel slowly and glancing out the window to his side. Was Jake right? Should he ask her about it? His hand went to his pocket, tugging free his phone to look at it for a moment.

Eventually though, he tossed it to his side. ‘She wouldn’t tell me even if I did say something…’

(Y/N) sat alone on the floor in her apartment, it was so dreadfully quiet in there. Painfully quiet. The sound of the silence rang around in her ears, making her head spin. Head hitting the wall with a thud. "Fuck…" she let out in a small whine, fingers lacing into her hair.

"Oh… fu-fuck…" she continued choking a little as she shuffled quickly to throw her head out over the open toilet. Her body was revolting; it wanted to rid itself of everything it had been carrying in her stomach till this moment… and it did.

As her body began to scramble to get itself back together, a pause came. All that she could think was, 'What a waste of a good lunch.'

Her hands came to rub at her eyes tiredly. She was so goddamn tired… but, she was in so much pain. This was the process. Every time she had ‘stumbled’ back into it again, she always promised herself it would be the last time. She would try to push through withdrawals… only to use again immediately after.

(Y/N) would never accept the truth.

She was an addict.

//I feel like it’s been forever since I wrote for this series! I both missed it and was.... scared of it...?? Don’t get me wrong! I love this series. I think I just have a high set of expectations for myself as I continue to write it --- despite the fact that I started writing it as like just a fun side thing in my time. This chapter especially was giving me a very hard time. Always making me feel like I was stuck in a writers block situation. Think I was just wanting to write it... properly. It felt like an important chapter and I really didn’t want to fuck it up. But anyways, that’s part four guys. Let me know what y’all think!//

#Greta Van Fleet #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fanfiction #josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #what friends do

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years ago

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Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 8

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Saturday at 5:00, she’s standing outside Mulder’s apartment door. When he’d proposed watching a movie, she questioned whether that was the best idea. She doesn’t have any particular reason for trying to hold off on things getting more physical, other than the lingering subconscious belief that nice girls don’t take their pants off before there’s a ring on their finger. That’s never a policy she’s stuck to in the past, but it still feels like they should wait a bit. Maybe it’s what happened before, their previous indiscretion, that makes her feel compelled to take things slow. Regardless of the motivation, spending time alone at one of their apartments is a surefire way to end up ditching her plans, along with her clothes.

Speaking of clothes, she’s worn jeans and a T-shirt, decidedly more casual than their last date. She’s also put on a black lace bra and matching boy short panties underneath, just in case. She has no intention of Mulder seeing her underwear, but on the off chance she changes her mind, she’d hate for him to see her granny panties. She also shaved her legs and her bikini line, just in case. Taking a deep breath and promising herself she will exercise exceptional self control, she knocks.

When he answers, she instantly feels her resolve falter. He’s wearing jeans and a white T shirt, bare feet, and a beaming smile. He immediately steps forward and slips his arms around her waist, pulling her close and kissing her like she’s just returned from sea. He smells clean and masculine, the stubble on his chin scraping her cheek and summoning a groan from her throat, which she successfully stifles. Finally he pulls back, looking at her with soft, affectionate eyes.

“Hey,” he says with a little smirk, and she smiles at him like they’ve just shared a secret.

“Hi,” she replies, resting her palms on his upper arms.

“Sorry to accost you before you’ve even gotten inside,” he says sheepishly, his arms still wrapped around her, “I’ve been waiting all week to do that.”

She chuckles and he releases her, slipping his hand into hers and leading her into the living room. When they enter, Priscilla stands from her place on the couch and arches her back with a meow, then paces excitedly with her eyes trained on Scully.

“Hi Priscilla,” she greets the cat, sitting on the couch where Priscilla climbs right into her lap and starts purring noisily. Scully laughs and runs her hand from Priscilla’s head down to her tail, smiling as the cat closes her eyes contentedly and drool drips from the corner of her mouth.

“She missed you,” Mulder says as he looks on, smiling with his hands crossed over his chest. “She doesn’t drool for just anyone.”

“I missed her too,” Scully says to Priscilla, then turns to look at Mulder with a soft smile. “I missed both of you.”

They hold eye contact for a beat, then he looks away, walking towards the kitchen. “I was just going to order pizza, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds perfect,” she replies, looking around. Not much has changed since she was last here, though he’s hung a couple new things up on the walls.

“What do you like on your pizza?” he calls from the kitchen.

“Surprise me,” she replies. She’s not a very picky eater and can’t think of any topping that would be a dealbreaker.

“I like your style,” he says in response, and she can hear the smile in his voice.

There is the muffled sound of him calling the order in, then he returns with a beer in each hand.

“I rented two movies,” he says as he sits down close beside her, their thighs touching. “Take your pick between Twister, or Mars Attacks.”

“I saw Twister in the theater when it came out, but I can’t say that I’ve seen, nor did I ever intend to see, Mars Attacks,” she replies with a knowing smile, taking the open beer he holds out to her.

“You gotta see it, Scully, it’s an instant classic,” he says with a tone that she can’t pin down as facetious or not.

“I guess we better watch it then,” she says with an equally ambiguous tone.

———

Six empty beer bottles are lined up along the far end of the coffee table, a pizza box sitting open in front of them. Mulder is lying with his head propped up on the arm rest of the couch, one foot on the floor and the other stretched out in front of him. Scully is lying on her stomach against his chest, her cheek resting on his pectoral and her arms wrapped around his rib cage. It was a slow progression towards them ending up fully entwined like this, her belly pressed against his groin, and he has one eye on the TV and the rest of his attention concentrated on not getting hard.

The movie, which is even more campy and stupid than he remembered, is nearly over, and he hopes she doesn’t hop up and leave right away. Looking down over the crown of her autumnal head and along the narrow expanse of her back, he sees a sliver of skin exposed between her jeans and T-shirt and his cock stirs. He slides the hand that had been resting in the middle of her back lower until his fingertips meet with her bare skin and she shifts a tiny bit, but not uncomfortably. Slowly, causally, while keeping his eyes on the screen, he begins to trace his fingers in slow circles on her lower back. Her skin is unbelievably soft, supple and warm. As his movements continue, he increases the size of his circles, inching her T-shirt up higher to expose more skin, and she pulls in a deep breath and holds it for a moment before she lets it out slowly, concluding with a sound that’s almost like a hiss. She shifts again and her stomach rubs against the swelling lump of his erection, pronounced enough now that she may be able to feel it. He dips the tips of his fingers under the waist of her jeans, running them from one hip to the other, and she lifts her head, propping her chin on his chest and looking up at him. Her expression is unreadable; she definitely isn’t upset, but she’s not smiling, either.

“Your skin is so soft,” he offers, as though it were an excuse for why he’s touching her, as though it would not be enough to say he’s doing it simply because he wants to.

She shimmies up until they’re nose to nose, the friction sending a jolt to his groin, and he resists the urge to thrust up against her.

“I moisturize,” she says plainly, her breath hot against his lips smelling like hops and garlic.

She drags her lips over his softly, side to side, then kisses him fully with a contented sigh. His hands find the small of her back and push up underneath her T-shirt, sliding over more of that silky softness, and he does thrust up against her, though gently.

They kiss slowly, in no rush, his hands cupping her ass and gliding down her sides, up into her hair and then back again. Her own arms are tucked up underneath her, propping her up as she kisses him, though she shifts her pelvis against his erection gratuitously, not in any way pretending that it’s not intentional.

“Mmmmm, Mulder,” she hums into his mouth, flicking at his tongue with her own and then sucking on his lower lip.

“Hmm?” he asks in response, gripping her ass and pulling her firmly against his groin as he pushes it against her.

“I don’t think we should have sex. Not yet,” she croons into his ear, pulling the lobe between her teeth gently.

“Okay, of course, whatever you’re comfortable with,” he answers back with a pained groan, his body not on the same page as his brain. “If you want to stop, let’s stop.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to stop,” she replies, kissing down the side of his neck until she comes to the place where it meets his shoulder. “I just said I don’t want to have sex. There are a lot of things we can do that aren’t sex.” She slips her arm free from beneath her torso, snaking it down between them and rubbing it firmly over his aching hard-on.

“Jesus Christ,” he hisses, flexing his hips wildly as he seeks more contact.

She brings her lips back to meet his, peppering small kisses as she strokes him over his jeans.

“How about,” she begins breathily, “one of us keeps our clothes on.”

“Okay,” he responds, sliding his hands around her hips to find the button of her jeans.

She laughs a little and sits up on her knees between his thighs, just out of reach.

“I was thinking maybe I would keep my clothes on,” she says in a playful tone, though her expression is bashful.

“Oh,” he answers dumbly, trying to piece together what she’s saying. When her hands go to the fly of his jeans he sits up. “Wait, one second, why me?”

She tilts her head with a curious furrowed brow. “This may be the first time in recorded history that a man has objected to receiving rather than giving.”

He cocks his own head at her, mirroring her confusion. “I think you’ve been hanging around the wrong men.”

After a beat, they both break out into ironic smiles, realizing what they are arguing over. She leans forward, crawling up to kiss him.

“If we were keeping score, which we are not, I would say I owe you one, Mulder.”

No matter that it was nine months ago, she’s referring to the one and only other time they’ve done more than kiss. She’s not wrong, but he doesn’t care. He loves making women come; it’s practically a hobby.

He wants to object, but she already has his fly open, her tiny hand slipping underneath his boxers and gliding down the length of him. He groans and she kisses him again, stroking him slowly in the narrow space beneath his stiff jeans. She sits up and tugs at the waistband and he lifts his hips to help her before pulling his T-Shirt off over his head. Within fifteen seconds he’s naked, his ass sinking into the warmed leather of the couch and Scully’s hot little hand cradling his balls.

“Can you take your shirt off?” he asks hopefully, “is that allowed?”

She smiles at him. “Let me consult the commissioner,” she says, then glances up and to the side. “Commissioner says yes,” she finishes, pulling her shirt over her head and revealing a black lace bra, her modest breasts pushed up deliciously within its cups. He feels his cock lurch in response and he reaches up to pull her on top of him, deftly unhooking the clasp and chucking the bra across the room.

She sits up again, perched between his thighs topless, and lazily slides her hand up and down over his length. He stares slack jawed at her pale pink nipples, hardened into rose buds in the cool air of the room, and she gives him a devilish little grin before bending at the waist and taking him in her mouth. The wet heat of her is sudden and jarring, so overwhelming that he closes his eyes against the flashes of white hot pleasure as his hips buck uncontrollably.

She plants her palms on his hip bones to hold him steady and moves up and down at a slow pace, her tongue sliding along the underside of his cock until the head is at her lips, where she swirls it around in a circular motion that makes him see stars. He opens his eyes, watching her through the curtain of her hair as his shaft disappears into her hot little mouth, the pink peaks of her nipples becoming visible at regular intervals. She tilts her chin up slightly and looks at him, meeting his eye before she lowers herself further than she had before, and he feels his head hit the soft flesh at the back of her throat before he slips just a little further, pressing into her pharynx. He stiffens and groans, the sensation different and somehow explicit, like he’s somewhere he’s not supposed to be. His hands hover near the sides of her head, gripping at air as he resists the urge to touch her, to control her movements. When one of them brushes against her scalp, she reaches up and takes it, pressing it into her hair and granting permission. He threads his other hand into her tresses and lets them glide with her as she moves up and down. Her fingernails scrape gently over the papery skin of his scrotum and he feels a tightening, coiling sensation that means he’s close. He lets his head fall back and enjoys the incredible feeling of her tongue hot and wet, her lips firm, her hands gentle. When he’s approaching the point of release, he lifts his head and whispers hoarsely, “Scully, I’m gonna come,” and removes his hands from her head so she can pull away.

She does not pull away.

Instead, she doubles her efforts, sliding up and down fast and firm, squeezing his balls gently and sucking hard on the upstrokes. Wanting to make sure she still has the opportunity to pull away, he tells her again, “fuck, I’m coming,” and she keeps right on pace as an explosion echoes from his balls through his cock, waves of release stealing his breath as he goes rigid and then falls apart in a cascade of expletives, returning his hands to grab a fistful of her hair as she swallows him down, slowing but continuing her movements until he’s soft and no longer throbbing.

She crawls up his body, gently resting against him with her chin on his chest, her breasts pressed against his bare skin, and waits for him to return to Earth. Finally, he settles his gaze on her, on those earnest blue eyes and that pink mouth that he now knows holds the secrets of the universe. He feels like he could cry, so instead he makes a lame joke.

“Did it hurt?” he asks, running his hands over her bare back.

She gives him a quizzical but amused expression. “The blow job?” she asks incredulously.

“No, when you fell from Heaven.”

She rolls her eyes and suppresses a smile as Priscilla springs unannounced from the floor and lands right on Scully’s jeans-clad ass, kneading the flesh a little before curling up for a snooze.

Scully laughs gently, not wanting to disturb the cat. “Is this a thing cats do?” she asks amusedly.

“Not really, you just have a great ass, I can’t hardly blame her,” he responds, and she smiles at the compliment. “You can’t leave now, we’re stuck like this,” he adds. “Priscilla can sleep forever, we may die here.”

Scully shrugs, sighing contentedly. “But what a way to go.”

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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thran-duils · 4 years ago

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Lost In Zero Gravity (P.15)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Fifteen) Summary: Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers. Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 3,145 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author’s Note: The reader here is someone who celebrates Christmas, just a heads up!

Part Fourteen || Part Sixteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Something touched your face and you jerked awake, blinking in alarm.

“Shit, sorry,” you heard Tony say as you came to clearly. You exhaled sharply hearing his voice, relaxing back down onto the couch. He was trying not to laugh and failing. He brushed at your forehead again affectionately and said, “Look at two of my favorite girls snuggling on the couch together. A nice thing to come home to.”

You turned your head, seeing Luna was curled up behind your back against the back of the couch. Tony reached behind you, petting her. She got up immediately and crawled up onto your side to get more, stretching her back legs. Tony obliged and she stuck her tail up before hopping down to the ground and sauntering off.

“Well, she got tired of me quickly,” Tony said sounding sour. “Little bitch is holding a grudge I was gone for a week.”

You sat up and moved your pillow, waiting for him to sit down. He simpered in response, “Well, at least one of you still wants my attention.” He sat down and you laid back down, using his thigh as a pillow. “And it’s the better looking one, so that bodes well for me.”

Considering you had fallen asleep, the movie had gone back to the main menu and was playing on loop.

“Interesting choice,” Tony commented seeing it.

“Polar Express has become a classic for Christmas,” you told him seriously. “And I fell asleep on it. And I did want to watch it.” You reached for the controller and started it over.

“Is there a reason for that…? Should I be prepared to be bored?”

“I had watched about three other Christmas movies before this and I was really relaxed,” you returned.

Tony admitted, “Fair enough.” He looked around the room and said, “You really went to town on the decorations.”

“I had a lot.”

“Looks like my tree was the perfect thing for your ornaments. Perfect gift giver.”

You snorted and said, “Is that you digging for a ‘thank you’ again, Santa?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Tony answered, his hand coming to your waist. “Where are my cookies in thanks?”

You turned your head to look up at him and asked, “Do you really want me to make you some cookies? Because the only ones I can make on a whim right now are peanut butter.”

Tony smirked, gripping your side. “No, sweetheart. Thank you for being so on the ball though and ready to indulge my whims. You’re a treasure. But I ate enough desserts and bullshit at Disneyland to last me for months.”

“Did you have fun?” you asked, turning to look back as the movie started over again.

“Mhm,” Tony nodded. “Loved standing in lines for an absurd amount of time not only for rides but also for pictures with people pretending to be characters. But it made the kids happy, so that’s what counts. And before you even ask, yes I did use a Max Pass. The waiting was still atrocious.” Before you could ask anything else, he cleared his throat, “How was it here?”

“Fine,” you answered, giving a slight shrug, not offering anything else.

You were truly sore from how much sex you had been having. Steve had wanted to go at it every day the last week and he made sure it happened, alternating between rough and caring. It was lucky, for him, that his wife was gone for the majority of the week, so he was able to come here every day after he got done with business.

“Hmm, sounds like I should pry more but doesn’t sound like you also want to talk about it,” Tony commented quietly. “Conundrum.”

The feeling riled up again to speak to someone about the gala. You pushed away from him, pausing the movie, and he leaned his head back, looking at you with narrowed eyes at your sudden movement.

“Steve was really horny this week. Like every goddamn day kind of horny. So, I’m pretty sore and tired,” you told him. He rose his eyebrows in response, and you said, “You asked me to elaborate, so I am. Also, I don’t know how he’s feeling because he’s been forcing me against tables but then being gentle other times. It’s very hard to read. He really hurt my hip against the kitchen table.” Tony looked concerned, his mouth opening like he was going to ask a question, but you pressed on, wanting to mention this to him, “And that guy from Monaco was at the gala we went to and he was watching me.”

Tony cocked his head. “What?”

“Laurie. That French guy.”

That caught Tony’s attention and he asked seriously, “He was stateside? At the gala?”

“Yes. Is that not normal? Cause he was looking pretty creepy.”

For a split second, you saw genuine apprehension in his face. But, Tony cleared his throat and adjusted in just another second, the mask coming up. He forced a smile, covering up the concern that had been there moments before, and said, “It’s fine. Just weird that he was watching you is all.”

You did not believe him for apparent reasons, mainly his body language. And he changed the subject quickly, “I brought you some gifts over here in this bag, but you can’t open them until Christmas.”

Holding back a sigh that he had brushed it off so easily, you asked, “Did you wrap them?”

“No,” Tony admitted, and you frowned. He explained, “Definitely paid to have that done.” He noticed the look on your face and asked jokingly, “Is that going to be a problem? I can send them back to the park.”

“No. It’s just astounding to me that people don’t like wrapping presents. It’s one of my favorite things. Make sure they look perfect.”

He leaned over the side of the couch and dug through the bag he must have placed down when he came in. “Speaking of cookies…” He came back up with a plain box and handed it to you. “That one you can open now cause it’s perishable.”

You took it from him, opening the box to find Mickey gingerbread cookies and an assortment of other Christmas decorated fudge and cookies.

“Don’t make yourself sick,” Tony commented.

“What a dad thing to say. Have you not left that mode?” you retorted, shooting him a look.

“I see your wit hasn’t lessened. Why do you try to push my buttons?”

“Because it’s fun,” you told him and he sucked his bottom lip in at that slightly, watching you.

Taking one of the pieces of fudge, you closed the box and put it on the coffee table. You took a bite and then held out the other half to him. He leaned forward, taking it, his lips wrapping around your fingers. You smirked at the flirtation, savoring the piece in your own mouth.

“Too bad you’re feeling sore,” Tony said after he swallowed his piece. “That was mighty rude of Steve.”

“Quite,” you agreed.

“Well, we will just have to wait then. Let you get good and limber again. That should take what/ A night?” You snorted at that. “What? I can be patient. And thoughtful.”

Satisfied knowing he was not going to try to push you tonight, you laid back down, tucking yourself back under the blanket, snuggling up on his thigh.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you told him sincerely as you started the movie again.

You felt his fingers caress your side at that.

<><><>

“How was it here?” Tony asked the next day at the office, as Steve placed a coffee on his desk from the intern that had gone on a coffee run for the office.

Steve shrugged, “Alright. She was well behaved. We went to the gala. And I spoke with Richard there, got that all sorted out. He’s going to open up the port when we need it.”

“Anyone notice you two speaking about that matter?” Tony questioned.

“Of course not. Everyone had their noses too far down in their drinks.”

Tony snorted in response before he asked, “Did you notice Laurie?”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Laurie who? Capron?” Tony nodded. Steve shook his head, “No. Why?”

“Y/N did. He was watching her.”

“Okay?” Steve said slowly, not getting it. And he should not because Tony had omitted the part about the bet when he mentioned to Steve that Laurie had been displeased he was meeting with Alexandre.

“Well, you know how I raced?” Steve nodded in acknowledgment. “He challenged me. Laurie did. Wanted to bet on Y/N.” Steve’s lips parted, vexation washing over his features. Tony said quickly, “That’s why I raced. I wasn’t gonna leave it in the hands of that random person they were having race for the company.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” Steve demanded. “Tony, what the fuck?”

“It wasn’t relevant. I won, didn’t I?”

“Why did you accept at all?”

“Because you know he would have just asked to take her right then. You know him. And I didn’t want to start that shit right there in front of all those cameras or put Y/N in that position or embarrass her.” Tony exhaled sharply and leaned forward over his desk, “Just… keep your head on a swivel. I don’t like that he’s stateside. He was really not happy about that meeting with Alexandre.”

Steve’s jaw was tight staring Tony down before he finally sighed, “Fine. Yeah. I’ll… we’ll figure out what he’s doing here.”

<><><>

“I still can’t figure out what to get you for Christmas,” you told Steve, watching him from the bed. He had come home during the day for a quickie. He had stayed away for a few days, much to your muscle’s relief.

“You don’t need to get me anything,” Steve told you as he pulled his pants up, working on his belt. “You’re enough.”

Picking at the sheet, you stared down at it, chewing on your bottom lip. Steve was moving around getting ready and he broke the silence, “What’s on your mind, Y/N?”

“Are you going to let me go home for Christmas?” you asked, looking at him hopefully.

Steve stilled for a moment in buttoning up his shirt, his eyes running over you there. You did not break eye contact, wanting to make it clear you were serious about this.

“I have been thinking about that,” Steve admitted. “Most of the guys have family they want to be with. You wouldn’t have anyone here – that I would want to be here that is – to watch you anyway.” Steve gave a tight-lipped smile. “So, my hands are kind of tied here.”

Hope was blossoming in your chest.

“I need to talk to Tony about it. But there will be rules. You’d need to check in regularly. It’d be a short trip. A couple days.”

“That’s okay,” you said eagerly.

Steve’s eyes crinkled and you closed your mouth, trying to relax again. He watched you for a few more moments before he went back to finishing buttoning up his shirt. He grabbed his suit jacket off the back of the chair and put it on too.

Coming over to the bed again, he gave you a kiss. “Don’t forget to wash the sheets before Tony gets home.”

“I will,” you said to his retreating back.

<><><>

You walked up the front steps, already hearing the chatter from inside. You could see some of your family in the living room window, laughing, already playing games. That was a Christmas Eve tradition. Taking a deep breath, you opened the front door. You had not called your grandma to tell her you were coming. The only ones who knew were a couple of your cousins you had reached out to.

When they noticed it was you, there was a chorus of happy greetings.

A wide smile coming across your face, you said hello in return as one of your aunts brought you to her, squeezing you close. Your bag fell by the wall by the door and you left it there to make the rounds.

Your grandma and grandpa were both in their respective chairs, your grandpa excited to see you. You made sure to hug him tight, kissing him on top of his head.

Turning you looked at your grandma. You had not spoken to her since you had left here weeks ago.

You asked gently, “Merry Christmas. How are you?”

“Better now that you are here, dear,” your grandma answered sincerely, a warm smile gracing her lips.

You broke at that, closing the space between the two of you and you wrapped her up in a tight hug. She held you back in return, and you blinked back tears knowing what she had said when you saw her last was true about her not being upset with you. Steve and Tony had not ruined your relationship after all.

<><><>

You looked down at your phone on the table and saw Tony was calling. You quickly snatched it off the table to avoid your cousin from seeing the name. One of your uncles had just begun to serve dessert. You had agreed to texts, not calls. What was Tony doing? You had just texted them an hour ago, sending them a pic that you were really at the house.

Getting up from the table, you said, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Well, hurry back! You don’t wanna miss my cake!” your uncle said as he cut in, placing another piece on a plate to distribute.

You smiled, “Of course not. It looks delicious.”

Turning away from the table, you saw the call had already gone to voicemail, much to your worry. But he was already calling again.

Coming into the hallway, you brought the phone up to your ear and answered in a hushed tone, “Hello?”

“There you are,” Tony responded, sounding taut. “Thought you were ignoring me and I was going to be pretty fucking irritated.” He sounded well on his way to being drunk; you knew the switch in his voice by now. “Make me regret letting you go off at all.”

“Well, I’m here. I’m at the house.”

“I know you are, sweetheart. I just… you’re gonna find a private space for yourself and then call me back on FaceTime.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m horny, Y/N and I needed a distraction for a moment. Get the tension out of myself. I hate the missus family. Go to the bathroom or something and give me a show.”

“Tony,” you hissed into the phone as you continued walking down the hall and the staircase leading to the lower part of the house. “We are in the middle of dessert. That’s—”

“You’re wasting time,” he interrupted you. “I’ve got to get back to this stupid party sooner rather than later. I’m already halfway worked up. Don’t leave me hanging, love. I just need to see you. Real quick. Promise. Call me back.”

He hung up the phone and you stared down at it dumbly for a few moments before letting out a strangled, frustrated noise. Your hand gripped the newel post as you propelled yourself down the staircase to go to the bathroom downstairs. Not following what he was asking would only get you in trouble and really make him regret letting you come here and have him refuse you in the future.

You locked the bathroom door for good measure. Turning around, you took a deep breath, trying to relax. You had given shows like this before, it was not foreign to you. All he wanted to see was you playing with yourself.

Pressing the callback for FaceTime, he answered, “Thank god. What were you doing?”

“I had to go downstairs,” you told him.

Fortuitously, you were wearing a skirt and it was loose. You pulled your underwear down, kicking them off. Taking your top off, you tossed it by your underwear. Looking around the bathroom, you looked for something you could use to prop up your phone and you spotted a small statue. Snatching it off the shelf, you sat down on the ground, your back against the tub. Using the statue, you propped the phone to point towards you and you spread your legs.

“Yeah, that’s good,” you heard Tony say softly and you could hear him already starting to jerk himself.

Your hand came to your pussy and you ran your fingers slowly up and down, not moving past your lips yet.

“How do you think I taste?” you asked, stroking slowly.

“So fucking good,” Tony returned, strained.

“You like tasting me?”

“It’s my favorite.”

Pressing one finger in, you moaned lowly. Your fingers came up to your mouth and you sucked on them before coming back to your clit, circling quickly.

“I wish it was you,” you keened, your fingers delving deeper.

“Fuck, me too,” Tony husked, speeding up.

Freeing your tits from your bra, you played with them, moaning as your fingers moved quicker. You kept your voice low as you teased him, hoping that no one would come up to the door. You had chosen the bathroom at the back of the house for a reason; the bigger one was closer to where everyone was.

Tony let out a groan as you described how wet and hot you were for him.

“I’m yours. All yours,” you told him, sultry.

“Shit, baby, I’m so close,” Tony groaned.

“Come for me, please,” you half whined, spreading your lips further apart to give him a better view inside. You continued encouraging him, circling your clit quickly.

“Fuck!” Tony exclaimed, shuddering breaths leaving him, and you knew he had finished. Your hand slowed and you waited until you were sure he was done before you dropped your hand. Picking up the phone, you covered your pussy again. The phone was pointed up at the ceiling; he must have laid it down on the counter.

After a few moments, he exhaled deeply, “Christ. Thank you, baby. That was good.” He picked the phone back up and said, “I gotta get cleaned up. Don’t forget to text. Have fun at your party.”

He hung up and you let out a breath of relief that he had one, gotten off, and two, no one had interrupted you.

You got yourself straightened out again, remembering to flush just to keep up the allusion. You did wash your hands though for real before leaving the bathroom.

“Thought you fell in,” one of your cousins joked when you appeared back in the dining room.

“No, sorry to disappoint,” you returned, pulling your chair back out and you sat down, picking up your fork. Everyone was almost done or already done. You took a big bite and chewed, savoring it. You gave your uncle the thumbs up down the table and he looked happy.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics @agustdowney @fanofalltheficsx @buttercandy16

#tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark tony stark #dark steve rogers #dark marvel fic #my shit

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