#this ended up being longer that i thought it would | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kilesplaysthings · 3 days ago

Text

how the boys would react when you have a migraine

yeahhh third one babyyy! i swear these all popped into my head one after the other, in this order, actually! This one was really fun to write, because Zayne!!! 🥰 sorry, my bias might be showing here lol

Part III: Zayne (you/MC x Zayne)

It was your day off, and boy, were you ever grateful for that. Last night as you got ready for bed, another headache decided to plague you. You had hoped a good night's rest would make it go away - you even slept in and stayed in bed for longer than usual. But no, the headache was still there and it persisted until it turned into a full-blown migraine that was a continual throbbing with such an intense amount of pressure that you wanted to scream.

What's worse, when you went to grab your prescription medication to try and chase this pain away, you realized you had run out. You requested a refill as soon as you could, and thankfully, the doctor was prompt in filling it, but that meant having to drag yourself off the couch and out to the pharmacy. Of course you didn't want to keep suffering, but you also really didn't want to go out. Over the counter pain medication wasn’t helping so all you could do was lie there debating with yourself about whether you should go or not. You also hadn't eaten all day and knew you should fix something, but again, you didn't have it in you to move.

It was a crummy way to spend you day off, but such was life. You felt like the kid from Ferris Bueller's Day Off, lying there listless, staring up at the ceiling, contemplating your life's choices and feeling like you were dying.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed. You groaned at the effort you had to make to pick it up from the coffee table. Your hand slowly slipped from under the blanket to blindly grope for the device. It fell on the floor, and you let out the most pitiful whine. Bending down to pick it up made your head throb harder.

You didn't even look to see who it was before you swiped on the screen to answer the call.

"...Hello..." you croaked out.

"Well, hello to you too," came the amused voice of your boyfriend on the phone.

Your eyes widened. "Oh. Hey, Zayne."

"I just got off of work. Are you still interested in going to that cafe we talked about?"

Your eyes slid shut. You had totally forgotten that the two of you had made plans to try out a new cafe that had opened up downtown recently. But with the way your head was hurting, you weren't up to going anywhere, even if it was with Zayne.

"I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to take a rain check on that," you told him. "I'm not feeling well."

"What's wrong?" He asked, his voice now laced with concern. "Do you have another migraine?"

You couldn't help but laugh softly. "Correct, as usual, Doctor. I've had it since last night. I thought sleeping on it would help, but it won't go away."

"All right. I'll be right over."

You sat up a little. "Oh, you don't have to-"

"No, I don't," he agreed. "But I want to. That is, unless you'd prefer being alone?"

You sighed. He knew the answer to that. "I look gross right now..." You warned him.

"I'm sure I can handle it," was his warm response.

You decided not to argue any more. As you ended the call, you couldn't help feeling relieved that he was coming over.

"Go ahead and let yourself in." You texted him so you didn't have to get up. He knew the code to your door anyway.

It wasn't long after that Zayne appeared, striding through the front door. He was carrying two bags and also holding a cup holder that held two drinks. When he saw you, his face lit up with a gentle smile.

"How are you feeling?" He asked quietly. He knew to keep his voice down when you had a migraine.

"Bleh."

He sniffed out a short laugh at that. "That bad, huh?" He placed the bags and drinks on the coffee table. "Where is your medication? Did you take it yet?"

Your eyes skittered away from his face. "Well..."

"Well?" His tone became firmer. He was going into doctor mode. "Does that mean you haven't?"

You turned to bury your face in the cushions. "I ran out..."

"Do you need it refilled, then? Have you contacted your neurologist?"

"I did," you replied. "I just haven't gone to pick it up yet."

"I see."

You peeked up at him, worried you'd see that stern expression he'd give you when you were being lax with your health. Instead, you saw him slipping his overcoat back on.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to pick up your medication."

All of a sudden, you felt your eyes tearing up a little. Guilt flowed through you. "I'm sorry, you don't have to... I'm not trying to make you go get it for me..."

He turned to you and smiled. Then he walked over to your side and placed his hand on top of your head. His thumb gently swept aside your messy bangs.

"I know. It's fine, I want to go. In fact, you could have just asked me to get it for you while I was on my way here. I know how bad your migraines can get, so I want you to rest. Doctor's orders."

He took one of the drinks and handed it to you.

"I got you a chai with cinnamon and oat milk, just how you like it. Just relax. I'll be right back."

You sniffled a little and nodded, taking large sips of the drink so you wouldn't begin to cry. Zayne was the sweetest boyfriend you could ever ask for and there were times when you wondered if you really deserved him.

He soon returned with a small paper bag in hand. Inside was your prescription for your migraines.

"Before you take it, let's make sure you eat something. How's your stomach today? Have you been feeling nauseous?" He inquired as he pulled out two styrofoam boxes from one of the bags.

"Fortunately, no. I just haven't felt like eating," was your answer.

"Good. The cafe we were going to go to today also offers soup, salad and sandwiches. How does tomato soup and grilled cheese sound?"

Your mouth began to water and a sudden growling noise erupted from you. Zayne's green eyes sparkled amusedly.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said. He opened one of the boxes and handed it to you. Inside was a sliced grilled cheese sandwich wrapped in napkins as well as a cup of tomato soup that was covered with a plastic lid.

"I'll get you a spoon," he told you.

While you waited, you took off the plastic soup lid and dipped the sandwich into the cup of soup. It was still warm and extremely delicious. You weren't sure why, but this was the perfect soup and sandwich combo for when you weren't feeling well. It was comforting.

Zayne came back from the kitchen with silverware, dessert plates and some napkins. He settled down into the couch beside you and picked up a plastic container that held a fresh-looking salad, with a cup of dressing on the side.

"That's all you wanted? A salad?"

"This is enough for me," he replied. "Besides, this isn't the main course. That's reserved for the desserts I brought." He nodded to the second bag. Inside you could spy cutely designed containers, all in pastel colors with elegant writings and cute symbols on them. You could only imagine what kind of cupcakes, macarons, and cheesecakes were inside.

Shaking your head with a smile, all you said was, "Oh, of course."

Once you were finished with your meal, Zayne retrieved the medicine from the paper bag. He read the directions on the bottle and handed you the proper amount of pills for you to take. Once you downed them with a swig of your drink, you decided to sit up on the couch, now next to Zayne, so you could lean against his side.

"Thanks, Zayne," you uttered softly.

He turned to look at you. "For what?"

"For everything; coming over, bringing food, going to grab my meds..." You sheepishly smiled. "You're always so sweet to me..."

He smiled and shook his head a little, his hand reaching behind you to rub your back. "You never need to thank me for anything like that. If you're not feeling well, of course I'm going to take care of you."

You felt yourself getting emotional again and, a little embarrassed for him to see you get all teary-eyed, you decided to lie down on him, placing your head in his lap, your face pressed against his stomach. You could hear Zayne's sweet, soft laughter and felt his hand upon your head.

"Perfect timing. I was going to ask you if you wanted a head massage."

You took hold of his free hand while he ran his fingers through your hair and massaged your scalp. You nuzzled his hand in thanks.

"I might fall asleep like this," you told him.

In return, he pulled the blanket over you and sat back into the couch to get more comfortable.

"Go ahead. We'll eat the desserts when you wake up."

170 notes · View notes

sturnsstars · 3 days ago

Text

a little longer - gdragon

authors note: first time writing for gd, i hope its okay. ngl this thought randomly popped into my head yesterday so i have to write it… also i feel like jiyong is super whimpery in bed when he’s being topped?

tags: smut no plot, men whimpering, blowjob, head pushing, slight throat fucking, cum eating

I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME.

your cheeks were starting to get sore from sucking them in, your lower jaw having a sting to it. you kept your hands steady on ji-yongs thighs that were spread to let you sit in between them, fingertips gently pressing into the skin that had ink under the layers, making slight indents into the plush muscle.

“jagiya- oh god…” ji-yong whispered through an exhale, his chest jerking up every so often whenever he inhaled with a stutter, unable to help himself from the subtle twitches and squirms his body made.

your mouth left a quarter of room to fit your hand around the base of his cock, occasionally tightening your hand around him, just to hear him squeal out a noise that could be considered pathetic.

“slow down- slow…” ji-yong was practically begging you, but you couldnt help it. he just looked so good in that recent photoshoot, you needed to show him how it made you feel. the way his tattoos were peaking out through the mesh shirt, the leather pants, his hair messy. all of it.

while he was begging you to slow down, his hips were rutting upward into your mouth and casing the feeling, making you squeeze your eyes shut tighter when you felt his hot and aching tip kissing the back of your throat, focusing on your breathing while ji-yong was focusing on trying not to come too early from the way your tongue felt on the underside of his dick.

you just barely calmed your actions, loosening your grip around his girthy base, easing the suction in your cheeks, a small and shaky sigh of relief leaving ji-yong. ji-yongs hand gently rested on the back of your head that was raising and lowering in a medium and rhythmic pace, his thumb caressing it for a second before his body tensed up slightly.

“dont stop… m’so- oh…” you casually glanced up at ji-yong when he informed you that he was close to coming, his head leaned back against the almost comically large and expensive bed frame he had, his adam’s apple raising every time he managed to squeeze out a mewl of some sort; high pitched, low pitched, breathy.

you took in a deep breath through your nose, almost like you were preparing yourself for his release, the ticklish feeling of his cum shooting down the warm and gummy walls of your throat, when he pushed down on the back of your head, your lips bumping into your fingers that were still enclosing his cock. what you got in return, was his tip stretching the space, making you choke and hum in shock, the feeling of it making ji-yong teeter on the edge of his orgasm.

“oh fuck- hm-mm… m’sorry aegiya-ah.. a-a little longer…” ji-yong’s head fell forward, his face scrunched up, just as much as his body tensed, keeping your head down on his cock as you sucked, his abdomen flexing as you felt the almost unnoticeable twitch of his dick, your throat feeling sticky as his cum shot into your mouth, a long string of pants and whines and moans in your ears, sounds you would never get tired of.

when ji-yongs body finally relaxed and he was stuck on a panting spree, you slowly lifted your head, making sure to keep your lips around him until you reached the end of his tip, pulling off with a loud and wet ‘pop’ that broke the heavy and thick atmosphere in the bedroom.

you took a deep swallow, his cum coating your throat as it went down, your hand gently releasing its grip on his cock to gently stroke it up and down, your fingertips coated with the saliva-cum mixture that veiled over him. you sat upright on your knees, your eyes stuck on his face; how relieved he looked. little did he know, you were sliding your panties to the side to get ready to ride him until your legs gave out.

#like #follow #bigbang #gdragon #gdragon x reader #jiyong #kwon jiyong #jiyong x reader #jiyongie #kwon jiyong x reader #smut #blurb #drabble #imagine #blowjov

161 notes · View notes

jjlotz · 2 days ago

Text

Wicked Games

PB x reader

WC: 4.5k

CW: angst (i guess), cussing, smut (at the end), alcohol consumption

men dni, mdni

description: when you fall in love with paige bueckers, you try to downplay it. you know, to protect the casual situationship you two have going on. but when you can no longer deny your feelings, things get a bit chaotic.

authors note: hey guys… so this was mostly based on wicked games up until the end! and then i got carried away 😛 anyway this is lowkey lacking detail and dialogue but its ok. enjoy 🙏

the truth is, you could never say no to paige.

you had met her when you ran into her at a bar. you were drunk, and randomly decided to go up to her since you had recognized the basketball player from your school. she took you home that night, gave you her number. how could you resist her? she was hot, and not to mention she was uconn’s golden girl.

after that night, the two of you got to know each other better. but not well enough to be considered “talking.” she told you she wanted to keep it casual. nothing too serious, seeing as to how she was a famous wbb player and she wasn’t quite ready for a relationship. you were fine with that. after all, you didn’t want anything serious either.

but did it stay casual when you started falling in love?

you tried to ignore it, you really did. it all started when she would let you stay the night without hooking up. you would talk, eat, hang out, and do whatever else kept you two busy. you became friends. friends with benefits. slowly but surely, you found yourself growing closer to her. emotionally and physically. she didn’t notice. she thought it was truly casual. she was fine with you being with others, because it never made her jealous. after all, she didn’t have feelings for you. she just thought you were attractive, and she could benefit from keeping you close.

close, but not close enough to make anything serious.

currently, you were next to her, awake. she was sleeping, breathing softly as the sun reflected off of her blonde hair. she was beautiful. you watched her silently before you slid out of the bed. you left the room quietly, avoiding waking her up as you walked to the kitchen. you made a glass of water, letting the cool liquid run down your throat to fully wake yourself up. this is how you began your average morning routine. things have been going like this with paige lately. you wake up early, shower, and you most likely make her food. then when she wakes up, you greet her before slipping out of her dorm.

after that, you spent the day withering away, thinking about why you felt so empty.

paige doesn’t know what you’ve been going through.

you’ve stopped seeing everyone else. now, you only see paige. she doesn’t know this. she doesn’t even know that you have any type of feelings for her. as far as she’s concerned, you’re living your best life. your friends say you’re seeing other people, going to parties, and living free. she sees your instagram posts. you in those dresses, drinking and having fun. but those posts were only half true.

you were drinking. not to have fun, but to drown out the feelings burrowed deep inside of you. you lied to your friends, and you lied to paige. you had to end this. you had to move on and get over her. all situationships end the same, and you should have known that this “casual” thing going with paige wouldn’t have been any different. so, you decided that from now on you would have to avoid her. you didn’t text her, and to your surprise, she didn’t text you. that made you feel better. you knew that if she ever did show up, you wouldn’t be able to resist her. so being alone was exactly what you needed. it felt nice knowing you didn’t have to wait by your phone assuming a text would come in. but you still missed her, and you silently wished she would reach out.

for the next few weeks, you cried, drank, and ignored paige. neither of you talked. she hadn’t texted you, and you hadn’t messaged her either. but it wasn’t the no contact that made you hurt worse. it was the small things that happened around campus. you would see her in the hallways, catching eyes with her for a brief second before she looked away and resumed her daily routines. you figured you meant nothing to her. and that made you think you were over dramatic with the way you were feeling.

it didn’t seem reasonable. getting drunk over a dumb crush. but it wasn’t a dumb crush. you were in love. and drinking was how you solved most of your issues before they went away.

you lived mostly the same for the next few months. you tried to work on your schoolwork to distract yourself, even though it didn’t help. you have no idea how paige is doing. you don’t know her thoughts. god, you wish you did. but you don’t. and you’re forced to deal with it.

paige figured you had gotten tired of her, and that was why you became distant. she was upset, of course. she thought you two were close, and she thought she could trust you. but after you disappeared, she decided to give up. it wasn’t worth chasing you if you didn’t want her. paige went on anyway. she saw her other flings. yet every single time, she had this nagging feeling in the back of her mind that none of them were you. that none of them could do it like you did. she ignored it, telling herself that it was just her getting over you. telling herself the feeling was just filling the space you had left in her life. you weren’t that important. it was just a casual friendship.

if it was so casual, why does she feel like she can’t go without you?

she can. she knows she can. but she wants to see you again. she wants you in the palm of her hand, for her to control. she hates not feeling in control, not feeling like she knows whats going to happen before it actually occurs. because that takes away her power. it takes away her ability to predict things. you were becoming unpredictable. disappearing and ghosting her? it was unlike you, and she hated that. she decided that she needed things to go back to normal. no, she wasn’t ready for a relationship. but she wanted to feel stable. and you used to be the most stable thing in her life besides basketball. she commonly saw you and you two would hang out. for months this went on. she needed you back, even if you were tired of her and hated her. she knew you couldn’t resist her because you never have been able to. she was going to get you back.

luckily for her, it’s a small town.

you went to a local bar. mainly because you were invited, but also because it gave you a chance to focus on something other than paige and the stress of school. you were sitting at the bar, waiting for another shot as you talked and laughed with a few friends. for once, you felt good about yourself. you weren’t thinking about paige and the stress of your school work had now lightened. you were just having some light hearted fun, away from the outside world. however, the universe seemed to hate you. just when you were letting loose, you spotted a few uconn wbb players by the entrance. your smile slowly faded after you spotted a certain blonde.

this cannot be happening.

you looked away, deciding to just ignore her. even though you could feel her burning stare crawl up your spine. you kept talking with your friends, drinking more and more as the night went on.

it wasn’t long before you ended up drunk.

you stumbled around the bar, ending up outside as you sat on the steps. you needed a break from the chaos. but as soon as the door opened, you realized the chaos had followed you. the blonde walked slowly towards you before lowering herself on the steps next to you. she glanced at you, before looking up at the stars. she was also clearly tipsy. not as drunk as you were, but it still gave her more motive.

“so…” you heard her speak. she was trying to start up a conversation. why? you ghosted her. why would she want to keep talking to you? obviously she didn’t get the memo.

“what do you want, paige? you didn’t say it rudely. it sounded as if you genuinely wanted to know why she approached you. and you did.

you heard her sigh, and then she glanced at you.

“i wanted to talk to you. you know, we haven’t done much talking in the past few months.”

you feel bad for ghosting her. but it was what you had to do. you couldn’t let go of your feelings for her. they ran deep. too deep. after all, why would you get blackout drunk often trying to drown out your thoughts if it was a small crush? no. it wasn’t just a crush. you were in love with her. and you knew you had to get away before she broke your heart.

“im sorry.” was all you could make out. you weren’t going to bring it up. however, if she asked, you figured you would just be honest. if it went badly you could just pass it by as drunken words.

paige watched the parking lot, examining the few people littered around.

“why? i mean its fine. you can do what you want. but at least tell me why.” she seemed genuine, like she was curious to know why you had disappeared. and it was reasonable. she deserved to know.

“because paige. i had to get away from you. you said you wanted things to be casual without feelings, so im doing you a favor by not complicating things.”

it was almost like she put her guard up at your words. why was she getting defensive? it shouldn’t matter to her.

her body tensed and her eyes flickered with a hint of anger.

“not complicating things? you complicated things by just disappearing. we were fine, and we would’ve been fine if you didn’t leave. god you just— you don’t make any sense.” she looked at you while she spoke. as always, when she’s trying to state her case, she speaks with her hands. she’s always done that. in basketball and in her day to day life.

“paige, i have feelings for you.” you muster up the courage to say it, and your drunken state causes it to slip out a bit unexpected. you can basically hear her freeze, and of course she didn’t respond. taking in her silence, you start to pour your feelings out. it’s been too long without an explanation. being drunk and emotionally confused is not a good mix. you start to talk again before she can even open her mouth.

“you’re so confusing! you know that right? this is all your fault. you look at me like you love me, and you hold me like im the only thing that matters to you. and then you just dump it all away, pretending like it meant nothing. maybe it didn’t mean anything to you paige. but it means everything to me. its your fault i fell in love. at least be happy im distancing myself. please, don’t make this any harder for me and just leave me alone.”

paige basically gawked at you. you didn’t look at her, afraid you might break if you did. she turned away, slowly standing up and walking back inside.

wow.

no. you told her to leave, you can’t be angry.

that’s what you told yourself. and yet you were still so pissed that she left. now you know how she really feels. although its obvious she doesn’t care about you, she’s really just scared of the truth. she’s complicated, and when things get too hard for her, she runs. thats why she likes stability and casual flings.

she didn’t care about you, is what she told herself. but if she really didn’t, it wouldn’t hurt this bad.

paige waddled back inside, baffled. part of her was glad you told her. and then another part of her felt broken. upset. why did it hurt so bad to leave you? its too late now, you want nothing to do with her. she respects you for telling her and distancing yourself mainly to protect her wishes. she should be happy, and yet she’s not. she’s undeniably discouraged. as the night went on, she couldn’t enjoy herself. she needed a distraction, so she went to the bar to find some pretty girl to start something up with.

this is what paige did when she didn’t know what else to do. she found another girl. after all, she could have however many she wanted. she’s paige bueckers.

despite how many women she’s spoken to over the past few months, she can’t help but compare them to you. none of them could beat you even if they gave all they could. she didn’t understand why you were so good. she didn’t understand why you knew exactly what to say, or why you always made her feel so loved and important.

but it makes sense now. you love her. of course you’d treat her like that. what’s even worse is that she retaliated against those actions with actions very similar. but she didn’t love you, right? no. she didn’t. she was just confused. she’s tipsy, and she needs to distract herself for a little bit to calm down. then she can really figure her shit out.

surprisingly, things weren’t so bad after that night. you were still getting over it, but at least you weren’t behind on school work or getting drunk almost every day. you were stable, and you felt like you might finally be able to heal. however, emotions were still raw.

every time you pass one of her teammates in the hallway, they looked at you almost with pity. like they know things about the situation that you don’t. but they never spoke up, so you just ignored it. you were in a good place. you didn’t want anything to mess up your progress, and you believed nothing would.

that was until you saw the name light your phone screen up.

paige.

what does she want? you had settled things. at least for the most part. you considered not answering. but that little sliver of hope inside of you made you pick up the phone. to you, it was worth it. even if she ended up hurting you, the fact that there was hope made it worth the risk.

you were sitting on the couch in your dorm, relaxing before you pulled the phone to you ear.

“paige?”

you heard her lightly breathing on the other side of the phone. she waited a second to talk. when she finally did, her voice was shaky. it almost sounded as if she had been crying.

“i’m sorry. can we talk? we need to talk.”

you were worried. she sounded upset. and it had to be important if she came to you about it.

“paige? talk to me. i’m literally on the phone with you.” you waited for her to keep speaking. there was a long pause before her words started flowing out.

“look, i should have never went back inside that night. i’m sorry. I’ve felt like shit recently. i’ve been playing like shit too. we lost our last game and it’s all because of me. all because i can’t stop fucking thinking about you. i know i didn’t say anything that night so i’m going to say it now. even if it changes things, and even if you’re mad at me. i think i have some feelings for you. i honestly don’t know. i try to act normal and act like you not being with me doesn’t bother me. but it does. it bothers me so much and i hate it. i can’t see another girl without thinking about you.”

she took a breath, and just when you were about to speak she cut you off.

“i dont know why its so serious for me, its not like i’ve felt this way before. because i haven’t. nobody makes me feel the way i do when i’m with you. and i didn’t realize how much you meant to me until you were gone. it was all good until you left.” she paused, continuing—

“tell me it isn’t too late. tell me i can be with you.”

she stops talking finally, and you can feel your eyes burning. can you trust her? what the hell is going on.

this was so random. you haven’t spoken since that night at the bar, and now she just randomly decides to call you and confess?

“paige.. are you serious? this is so odd. you’ve always said you wanted something casual and what-not. neither of us are ready for relationships and you know it. so why?”

you hated to face the truth, but you knew what was going to end up happening.

“baby i know we aren’t ready. but we can still try, right? things will be rocky, but we’ll be with each other. please. i love you.” the pet name and those three words at the end make your chest tighten. tears slowly fall from your eyes, and you wipe them up. you don’t sniffle, you just stay silent. was it worth a try? could you guys really figure this out? you decided you wanted to see if she meant it.

“okay.” you say quietly over the phone. you were willing to try.

“okay? okay. yeah.” she speaks almost relieved. you were glad she came to you with this, even if it wasn’t in person.

“so what now?” you ask, not really knowing what else to say.

“im on my way to your dorm.” she said, clearly moving around. she didn’t give you a chance to reply, she just hung up. you sat up quickly. if she’s really on her way then she should be here in like five minutes.

or less, because just a bit later you already heard knocking on your door. you swallowed a gulp in your throat, before you stood and slowly walked to the door. you opened it, and paige stood there. wide eyed and panting, she looked at you.

“paige, what are you doing here.” you tried to sound firm but the words came out as weak anyway. you couldn’t help it. something about this entire situation made you vulnerable. it made her vulnerable. and emotions were raw. she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. then, she faced you and placed her hands on your cheeks.

“please.. i need you. im tired of acting like i don’t.”

with that, she pulled your face in. the first kiss was sweet, but it definitely felt like she was holding back. it was more like a trial peck to see what she could get away with. and then she packed on the next one. it was deep and hungry, her hands sinking into your hair while you gripped at her shirt. she groaned into your mouth, giving you an opening to slide your tongue in. your cheeks flushed as she tugged softly at your hair. it was almost like you two were fighting for dominance. but when she bit your bottom lip and then swiped her tongue over the dent, you knew you were in for it. she pulled away, a string of saliva attached to your lips while the two of you caught your breath.

“paige. it’s too soon, we should give it a little bit so we can talk and calm down.” you spoke out of breath, silently hoping she would turn you down. even though the reasonable resolution would be to stop and talk.

“fuck, i can’t. i’ve missed you too much. we can talk later.” she sounded like she knew it was wrong. like she knew you should stop, and that you should talk to each other before indulging in something further.

but you know neither of you were going to stop. it was so sudden, and you had missed each other for so long that you just felt like you needed it.

she let go of your hair, grabbing your wrist and tugging you to your room. you’re lucky your roommate is out for the night. she closes the bedroom door behind you, immediately pulling her hoodie off along with her shirt. you bit your lip, seeing her in just a black sports bra and low hanging sweats. she moved towards you again, pushing you softly down onto the bed and having you back up to the headboard. she took her sweatpants off, following you and hovering above you. in a flash, she had maneuvered you to sit on top of her. you were whipped around, trying to balance yourself. you straddled her, your hands resting on her chest. her hands gripped your thighs hard as she watched how they formed underneath her hands. she silently admired you for just a moment before beginning to strip you.

you loved the way she looked at you.

before, it felt meaningless. like it was just a look in her eyes.

but now, it made sense. you felt appreciated, and somewhat loved. exactly the way you made her feel.

and you were eating it up.

she pushes your shirt up, licking her lips as you pull it off and throw it along with the rest of the clothes along the floor.

“i missed you…” she spoke quietly while panting. she slightly sat up so she could be closer to you. you rested your arms on her shoulders, leaning in close.

“i missed you too.” you spoke against her lips, before pressing another slow kiss on them. she tugged at your shorts through the kiss, and you moved around a bit to help her get them off. she ripped off your underwear with them, too lazy to take it off separately. when everything was gone and thrown around the room, you were left in your bra. she broke the kiss, her hands roaming around your body.

“fuck, you’re so pretty.” her hands reached around to your back, unclipping the bra and throwing it away. her hands immediately came up to grope your tits, squeezing and massaging them. her hands were large, completely covering them. your head threw back slightly. you let out a few whimpers, and her mouth came down to attach to the hardened peaks in the middle. you let out a soft moan, your nails digging into her shoulders. you brought your head up, connecting eyes with her. her eyes were glossy, and she looked needy.

god, you could stare at her for hours. you couldn’t say just how many times you’ve imagined her like this.

her right hand sunk down to your core, circling your clit slowly. you whined, your forehead now resting on her left shoulder.

“soaked for me, huh?” you nodded quickly, pressing quick kisses against her neck. you sucked, leaving marks solely to distract yourself. her left hand squeezed your ass, and you heard her let out a soft whine due to your mouth on her neck.

you felt her fingers sliding through your slit. gasping, you grind yourself onto her hands.

you were tired of waiting.

after all, you haven’t seen anybody else ever since you started avoiding paige. and touching yourself was never the same. nobody could do it like her anyway. you knew nobody could fuck you the way she did.

and paige felt the same way. every girl she saw, even the ones she actually had sex with; none of them were like you. she tried to resist it, but after a while, she couldn’t take it anymore. she had to have you. even if it would change your “friendship” completely. even if it would complicate things and confuse the both of you emotionally. she was willing to try for you.

she sunk two fingers into your cunt, and you squeezed around her. you relaxed into her touch, moaning out her name.

it’s been so long. maybe too long.

“baby you’re tight. nobody fucked you since me?” she spoke in a low tone, smirking like she knew exactly what she was doing to you. and she did.

you shook your head, blabbering your words out while she pumped into you.

“no… no paige. nobody does it like you.” you whined almost pathetically, biting your lip. moving your hips against her hand, you let out borderline pornographic moans when her fingers curled. she hit that spot inside of you easily, just like how she used to.

she kept increasing her pace, and you brought your head up to rest your forehead against hers. you moaned and gasped right in front of her, making sure she heard every noise. making sure she heard the way she made you feel.

your slick was basically dripping off of her hand at this point. and god, she loved it. every once in a while she would glance down just to watch her glistening fingers disappear between your legs over and over again.

she began to allow the palm of her hand hit your clit, even rubbing small circles on it when she curled her fingers relentlessly. she kept going, not giving up despite the cramp that rose in her forearm. she was focused on your face twisted in pleasure, and her name that seemed to leave your mouth multiple times.

eventually, the familiar but yet missed coil in your stomach began to form. she took her left hand and pressed on your lower stomach, causing you to let out a guttural moan. she knew when you were close. she could always tell.

“paige… fuck. gonna cum, please don’t stop” you whined and blabbered, shutting your eyes tightly while you chased your orgasm. your moans continuously got higher pitched as you neared the edge. she smirked, looking up at you as you shook against her hand.

“yeah? go on baby. wanna feel you on my fingers.”

immediately at her words you found yourself releasing, clutching her wrist with one hand and digging marks into her shoulder with the other. you felt the pleasure rock you from your core and up your spine. you let out loud moans, her name slipping out in between as a gasp. she slowed her pace, but she didn’t stop until you were pulling yourself up off of her lap.

her face was smug, and she was definitely proud of herself.

you plopped down next to her, your body clad with sweat and your thighs wet with your slick. she didn’t bother wiping off her fingers, instead she brought them up to her mouth and licked them right clean.

after you slowly came down and came back to reality, all of the emotions came rushing in.

you were confused, happy, horny, and yet still somehow upset.

things were still fresh. she had just up and confessed her love, and here you were.

the two of you still had a lot of things to figure out. but for now, you let her clean you up and pamper you with make-up kisses.

#wlw fanfic #wlw smut #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #wlw #lesbian #uconn wbb #men dni #mdni #this is bad #hey guys

214 notes · View notes

springismss · 3 days ago

Text

ᱬ⛧ toying around ~ s. gojo

sum: when a dare you gave your boyfriend ended up biting you in the backside - now you’re a mess and he’s loving it.

pairing: satoru gojo x girlfriend! reader

content: 18+ - mndi. toy play, implied exhibitionism, fingering, unprotected p in v, implied c warming, gojo is a cocky mf, implied multiple rounds, reader gets called sweets/good girl, general swearing.

a/n: i’m back after being away for a bit - enjoy some toy play/kink with our favourite white-haired sorcerer. originally wrote with another character but it's time to shake it up. as always likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated!

links: jjk masterlist | masterlist

Rubbing your legs together, you chewed on your bottom lip as you attempted to relieve some of the pressure you felt within your core as the knot in your gut tightened slowly with each passing second.

Unfortunately, the more you pressed your legs together, the more the pressure and pleasure increased. Why did you have to be a smart mouth and give a dare to your boyfriend? You were sure he wouldn't take you up on it, mainly due to him not wanting to draw attention to you both, but to your dismay, he did. Glancing up, you took in the mass of snow-white hair before letting a small whimper pass your swollen lips.

Placing your head down on the table, you let out another soft moan, only to be met with a chuckle as blue eyes took in your current state. "You know I'll only turn it up if you keep acting like that, (y/n)". The obvious glee in his voice made you growl, mentally debating whether you should punch him for being so cocky.

After a few moments, a small gasp slipped past your lips as you lost your train of thought to your soon-to-be impending doom. "H-ah, fuck, T-Toru, please, this isn't f-fair". You whined out a little more than you intended at the pleasure you felt building as you lifted your head, the smirk on his lips adding fuel to your fire despite wanting to now connect your hand with his head - in a slap of hate or a grip of lust, you didn’t know which at this point any more.

You were going to make him pay for this next time, even if it killed you.

"Well, you shouldn't have dared me to do this, then you wouldn't be in this situation now would you, sweets?”. Satoru leaned his head on his hand as he looked you over, a small smirk appearing at the blush spreading across your face before he clicked another button on the remote he held under the table. His smirk widened at your reaction as you lifted your head and let it fall back, sucking in a breath as you tried to steady the pounding in your chest.

A few seconds later, a moan louder than you intended passed your lips as you let your head drop back down, causing people passing you both to look, raising their brows in questioning. “Oh my, you're such a naughty girl aren't you, (y/n)?". His eyes racked over your somewhat dishevelled state as you bit your lip in an attempt to stifle the moan you could feel clawing at your throat.

You'd be damned if you gave him the satisfaction again, but it was so hard not to give in. After a few more agonisingly slow moments, Satoru decided you'd had enough torment for the day. Lifting his hand, he motioned for you to sit beside him, your body moving slowly, you manoeuvred around the round booth seat until you sat directly beside him. “As much as I like to tease and torture you with our little toys for a little while longer, I think you've endured enough for now".

His words were soothing as he lowered his hand, fingers caressing your thigh, drawing patterns for a moment before slipping under your skirt and into your underwear. Taking a moment to press your clit, you sucked in a breath as you felt skilled fingers rub circles. The same fingers that were toying with you moved further down your wet pussy, slipping past the small ring of resistance with ease before reaching deep inside, savouring the feeling of your slightly pulsating walls, pulling out the soaked love egg vibrator much to his amusement.

A small moan of relief and loss sounded from you as you shuffled a little more, the fire deep within you never ceasing as your walls tried to clench around something that wasn’t there anymore. "T-Toru, it's still too m-much for me".

Your soft whimpers lulled him slightly as you closed your eyes, taking in deep breaths in an attempt to calm the raging urge to jump him. You had been so close to that beautiful high that would have you seeing stars but it was cruelly ripped away.

Soft fingers brushed against your neck while moving some of your hair, your eyes opening as you tilted your head slightly looking over your boyfriend. You were distracted and he took that as the perfect opportunity to drag a moan of both surprise and pleasure from you, before muffling any further sounds that dared to come out. The oh-so-familiar feeling of being stretched by long fingers made your eyes roll slightly, fluttering shut as the feeling of your end began building again.

Amid your distraction, Satoru had managed to slip two long fingers into your slick cunt, stretching your walls to the shape of his fingers as he began moving at a slow and almost painful pace. Sure it wasn't the pace you had hoped for from him but to feel a part of him inside you, instead of the toy, was fair play.

Pulling back from you slightly, hot breath ghosting against your lips, Satoru tilted your chin and smiled softly. "You know, maybe we should take advantage of being in this booth. After all, you handled my little toy extremely well, sweets and I think we both know you’d much rather have something else inside you. Something that you can really grip onto and lose your mind over".

Scanning your eyes over his, you pulled his lip between your teeth and wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers slipping into his hair at the base of his neck, fingers scratching at his scalp slightly. Now it was your turn to enjoy the quiet moans from deep in his throat before he played his hands on your hips, nails pressing into your skin. You didn’t know if you were trying to beg or demand with the way you were moving, but either way, he was right and you were impatient as fuck. Hands guided your body to sit on his lap, facing away from him as you felt the welcome stretch of his cock pushing into your pussy, covering your mouth as you muffled the moan that slipped out.

“F-fuck, that’s it, my fucking sweet girl~”. Tender kisses were peppered on your neck as you felt his hips begin to lift, pressing the head of his cock further into you, your insides moulding once again to the shape of him as you clenched around him, your body not wanting to let him slip out so easily this time around, unlike the egg vibrator from earlier that now rested in his pocket.

“~let’s see how many times I can make you come before our food arrives. If you’re quiet and good, I’ll make sure to rip those sweet sounds from your throat later on tonight when I have you pinned beneath me in bed”.

His words hit you as you let your head fall down, clenching around him once again as you moved your hips slowly, making sure to not draw too much attention to the fact you were being stretched open in pure bliss for anyone to see.

Of course, you were a good girl for him, legs trembling as you came undone on his cock, your slick dripping over his lap and your thighs and you panted into your hand, eyes closing as you felt him pat your thigh.

And of course, he was true to his word, having you come undone once again, this time beneath him as he ripped sweet moan after sweet moan for your throat as he filled you up until he had nothing but blanks left to give you as he pulled you into every possible position he could.

147 notes · View notes

gojoidyll · 23 hours ago

Text

I TRUST YOU MORE THAN ANYONE. PT. 1

Toji & Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Set in a different time, you find yourself struggling to survive until you find a lone statue in an abandoned shrine. Everyone warns you to stay away, that you or anyone else doesn't know what god that shrine belongs to, but you don't listen and clean up the shrine ans statue anyway.

Carefully, you swept away the dirt, leaves, and dead grass that had accumulated around the statue. Your eyes focused on each dirty patch as the sun began to rise. Once you swept the slightly broken marbled floor and gathered all the dirt and such into one pile, you went to sweep it all outside. It was a simple feat within the abandoned shrine since it was worn down and had many holes within the walls, some of the infrastructure missing entirely in large portions. Not to mention that half of the ceiling was gone and large pieces of marble columns lay scattered across the floor.

You and the villagers that lived in the small town near the shrine believe it has been abandoned for at least 200 or so years (give or take), but no one was sure since there were no sort of documents or texts depicting of anything of the sort within the building. No one even knew what the shrine was for.

Sighing to yourself, you placed the broom up against a part of a wall that wasn’t broken and went to your small bag that you laid near a single, lone statue. Looking up at the piece, you wondered what god the people before you were worshipping.

The statue itself was as worn down as the building. Large chunks of carefully crafted marble had crumbled and lay around at the statue’s feet. Its stomach was missing along with certain parts of its body and even its head was gone too. Yet what did remain was the statue’s four arms, though some pieces were even missing from those..., but on one set of arms a lair of hands remained with one hand gripping a sword of some sort. The hands were perfectly sculpted, big, with the veins nicely pronounced, and cool to the touch.

Despite the statue being broken, you saw this as a sign. That maybe the gods were trying to tell you all something. That there was a reason why there was this abandoned shrine here. Granted, you didn't know of a god with four arms...

Your family and village keep getting tormented by sickness, taxes, criminals, and even by the lord of the land. It was all getting too much. Medicine was overpriced, traveling merchants were cruel and unjust, the lord continually placed higher taxes and gave harsher living demands, the knights never lended single helping hand to the thieves and bandits that ransacked your village monthly, and winter was fast approaching.

You hoped that by finding this god’s statue, that maybe there was still some hope left.

“Let’s get you all cleaned up, and afterwards I even have an offering for you too.”

Bending down to your bag, your brought out a small rag, and next to your bag was a bucket of water that you had filled up at the river’s creek near your village (though, it was farther than you thought and accidentally twisted your ankle on some of the jagged rocks).

Dipping the cloth into the bucket and then gently wringing it out, you went over to the statue and began cleaning it. The clothe immediately began to soak up all the dirt and dust that got caked onto the smooth, white stone – the shiny surface underneath soon shining through as you got to work.

“There, all clean,” you said with a smile. Your eyes raking over the statue as you took a step back.

It took you longer than you expected, but you were glad that the statue wasn’t covered in dirt and grime anymore. Finally, after tossing the rag into the bucket, you looked around at the various statue pieces lying about at its feet. If you were one of those talented, rich artisans, you would have tried to put the statue back together, but since that wasn’t the case you ended up placing what you believed was the statue and lay them close to the aeon. It was the least you could do when you first started visiting the abandoned shrine.

“Now for the offering.”

Crouching down to your bag and wincing slightly at the pain in your ankle, you pulled out the few crumbled pieces of breads and bruised fruits you could afford and placed them at the foot of the statue. Then, moving to sit on your knees, you placed your hands together and bowed your head. Your eyes slipped shut as you steadied your breath.

You weren’t well educated. Reading, writing, and such was far above your knowledge. So learning about the aeons was something you could never delve into along with the fact that your village had only one or two books. You did try to teach yourself once, but that proved to be too difficult and a tutor was out of the question considering your money situation.

But you could still hope.

“I am so sorry, but I do not know your name nor the rules you evoke, and I do not wish to be so foolish in being greedy towards you or in asking for things for when I don’t even know who you are. So… all I will ask of you is to be happy. I do not know what will happen to me, my family, or the village, but I hope that seeing you is a sign of better things to come. Rest well, dearest god. I hope that your name will resurface once more, someday.”

Ending your prayer, you had gathered your belongings and had made an attempt to stand, but instead you found yourself falling forward, your breath heavy as your vision blurred.

You were tired, you could feel it in your bones as you closed your eyes for a moment. Today’s work was tough on you, sleep just out of reach, and tonight you figured that the work waiting for you will be even worse.

When you tried to stand again, you ended up right back on the floor. Your cheek pressed hard into the cool marble ground as your fatigued mind started to drift. You knew you needed to get home. You knew that you couldn’t, shouldn’t, sleep here, and yet…

You curled into a ball, your body moving to lay on your side as you let out a shuttering breath. Your eyelids felt heavy as you drifted off into a silent slumber. And in your sleep, you did not notice the statue or how it started to radiate a small warmth around your shivering form. The wind and the cold not reaching you at all as your breathing evened out.

"Foolish brat."

The words were lost in the vastness of the ruined shrine.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #toji #sukuna #toji x you #toji x reader #toji x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n

84 notes · View notes

huggingtentacles · 14 hours ago

Text

I have to admit that problems of an immortal society are a bit beyond my comprehension. Like, how would an immortal vs immortal revolution happen? I don't know. I'm just pretty certain that given a long enough timescale it would happen. Can't give any arguments, it's just intuitively clear to me that progress won't stop.

As for the "seeing your loved ones die" thing, fair warning that I don't intend to sound callous or anything and I'm not trying to call anyone selfish. After having thought about this through the lens of an immortal, this is just how I feel about it.

You will already see all of your loved ones die if you live a little longer than them. All being mortal adds to the equation is that you have a """hope""" of dying before they do, "relieving" yourself of the grief and passing it onto everyone else.

"How many times can you bear to see all your loved ones die?" All of them. There isn't an easy answer to this question. I will just have to accept that I will fall in love and grieve, fall in love and grieve, again and again, forever. Because I'm a social creature that can't live in isolation. Maybe I'll take breaks between relationships to have time to grieve. But you can't grieve forever. The pain of loss dulls and goes away. The desire for love and connection will reignite eventually.

Every new relationship would start as an immortal will come with an understanding that one day it will end. But I already do that as a mortal, we all do. The thought of dying before they do brings me no relief or joy, all it makes me think about is everyone who loves me terribly missing me for the rest of their lives. How is that any better than just keep living?

You asked a very interesting question about discovery. In this hypothetical we assume that I'm the only immortal around. This is more fun to think about, because like.. the thought of hiding it from everyone forever is not just boring, it's unfeasible. I don't want to hide it forever. Eventually I will come out.

I will become a celebrity instantly. Every government would want to put me in their lab. And you know what, I honestly don't mind. I would be also very curious about my immortality and how that works on a physiological level. Up to this point we just assumed it's some kinda magic, I wanna know how deep the analysis would go before the science breaks down. Moreover, I would honestly prefer scientists studying me and publishing a thousand papers proving to the world without a doubt that 1. There isn't any way to kill me and 2. There isn't any way for everyone else to gain immortality the way I did. This would limit the number of crazy people who would think that they can take it for themselves.

I believe the "insane scientists will take you apart and study you piece by piece to see the limits of your immortality" thing is beyond insane and would only happen in movies. Any scientist worth their salt will prefer to keep me in one piece and have a good relationship with me.

I will voluntarily participate in all the tests and interviews. It will frankly be fun. I think what would happen is I would go through cycles of becoming famous and obscure as the public becomes interested in me and just moves onto other things. And in a few hundred years every textbook on earth will mention me in school, everyone will know that actually, our planet has an immortal person and that's just one of the mysteries of our existence. "We ran all the tests and this girl just won't die ever. We don't know how, perhaps in the future we will access the technology to understand this better, like a quantum computer or something." And frankly I would also like to be studied with a quantum computer!

Summing up, every relationship already comes with an expiration date. I don't mind that. I mind the death part. Death is worse than any loss or pain or grief. Death is nothingness forever. It's worse than spending like, a few decades in a lab being studied. It's worse than being annoyed by paparazzi for a few decades before I fall into obscurity as the public becomes bored of me. It's worse than seeing my grand grand grandkids grow old and die. Worse than any heartbreak. I don't want to die, ever. Immortality would make all of my problems temporary. It won't be perfect, no life is perfect, but I don't need it to be perfect to want more of it.

I crave immortality more than anything. It would fix all of my problems. Whatever pain I have would be truly and utterly temporary. There isn't much I wouldn't give up to live forever.

When you're anything like me, you'll find it really weird how most media, good or bad, takes an anti-immortality stance. Immortals are almost always villains. Immortality is portrayed as something that strips you of your identity, turns you into a monster, or more often than not, reveals the "monster you've always been within" or something cruel like that. The means of achieving immortality is always sacrificing yourself or someone else.

To me this stance reveals something deeply disturbing about the author's feelings about existence in general. It reads to me like "Existence itself is a curse, wanting more of it is wrong."

A few months ago I made a post where I basically asked the question, what's so bad about making everyone live 1000 years? It's not like anyone is forcing you to live that long, giving everyone ten times the potential lifespan can only be a good thing. And a really common answer I got was like "I don't even want to live the remaining 60-50 years I already have, 1000 is way too much" and like.. that's so sad.

That also leads me to another thought that like, we treat wanting to die as a mental illness and a sign of depression for 70 years of a person's life and then at some point we all just decide that actually, it's fine for a person of this age to talk about their death and funeral, about how they're tired of living and such.. That's deeply fucked up to me. It's unfair.

If I could live forever I would, and I hate the thought of aging and dying eventually.

540 notes · View notes

fawnwilde · 1 day ago

Text

Universal ִֶָ☾.

Javier Escuella x reader

rating: all audiences

You've grown up with the gang, seeing them as your family rather than just companions. In 1895, Dutch brings in a new member, a man named Javier Escuella, who speaks little English.

You're determined to help him learn, but somewhere along the way, you realise that some things are simply universal...

content warning: f reader, no smut, all fluff, pre canon, failed gcse spanish so i'm google translating it, javier adores you, racism (tw: bill), happy endings all round

word count: 5.0k

You remember the day you met Javier Escuella like it was yesterday.

It was the Summer of 1895. The gang was milling about in your makeshift camp, doing chores or enjoying the pleasant weather. Autumn was approaching and the gang was enjoying the last weeks of sunshine, before it turned cold and grey.

Dutch had been gone for a few hours on a reconnaissance, scoping out an abandoned building which was said to be a popular spot for ashamed upperclassmen to meet working girls.

He’d been gone longer than the group had expected, and Hosea had begun to worry. You sat by his side playing dominos, trying to quell his concerns with gentle reassurances.

When Dutch returned, the gang and you were beyond relieved. But he hadn't returned empty handed. Information, some food…

And a stranger in tow.

He was young, no older than twenty one from what you could tell. Covered head to toe in dirt and dressed in ratty clothes, his hair long and unwashed.

He looked around with cautious eyes at the other members of your group, before they finally landed on you.

You thought his eyes were beautiful. A deep brown, smooth and golden like whiskey in the light of the setting sun. He stared at you for a moment, before looking at the floor.

“Everyone, I would like you all to meet Mr Javier Escuella!” Dutch announced, “He’ll be joining us, from now on. Quite the thief, but I reckon we can teach him more.”

Javier Escuella.

His name was dazzling to you, foreign and melodic, especially when spoken in his own voice when he corrected Dutch’s pronunciation.

As other members of the group approached him, such as Arthur and John, introducing themselves and asking questions. Javier answered with ‘yes’s and ‘no’s, growing embarrassed when they asked him harder questions.

It became obvious to you all that Javier did not speak much English, and Hosea made everyone scarce as he calmly took him over to get some stew, allowing the man some peace from the rather hectic band of criminals.

You came to stop by Dutch’s side as Hosea sits Javier at one of the tables.

“Where did you find him?”

“Oh, it's a funny story, my dear.” He chuckles.

You thought as much, listening to Dutch relay the events of their introduction. Your eyes did not leave Javier’s face.

Who is this unusual man?

That had been a few weeks ago now, and Javier had become a great asset to the gang.

He is skilled with a knife, a nimble fighter and a better thief than Dutch gave him credit for. His past remained unknown to you, but you could tell the gods had not dealt him the best cards.

Nevertheless, he's a tough son of a bitch.

Just by standing at his side during jobs, you could tell he is fiercely intelligent, brave, and… well, handsome… but no one needed to know the last part. That’s your secret.

You wanted to truly get to know him, as a friend of course. The only issue to that being the language barrier.

He would sit with Dutch sometimes and listen to him when he read, his focus apt as he tried to learn longer words in the language.

But other than that, he kept mainly to himself.

Javier chose to keep to the outskirts of the group, observing the world in stoic silence. On days where you stood close enough to him, you could hear him humming as he sharpened his knife. But he would stop whenever anyone came close.

He reminded you of a beaten dog in a new home; unsure and distant, growing braver as the days go by. You hoped he would come to think of the gang as a family, as you had.

Only time would tell.

The first time you really interacted with him was one cold night around the campfire.

Everyone is enjoying Pearson’s stew and a few drinks. Uncle plays his banjo, Sean sings merrily, even Arthur and John were in high spirits as they twirl Tilly around in a silly dance that makes everyone laugh and applaud.

What a merry band of fools you run with.

But the mood sours when a drunken Bill Williamson decides to try his hardest to piss everyone off.

“I don’t see why we don't just break in and take it.” Bill grouses, complaining about a robbery Hosea was planning.

Hosea presses his lips together, looking up from his book to stare at the drunken buffoon.

“Because, Mr Williamson, the man who resides there may be alone and old, but he’s known statewide for his experience with weaponry.” Hosea sighs through his nose, “‘Breaking in’ without a plan will surely land us all with bullets where we don't want them. As I have explained thrice.”

Bill scoffs, taking a swig from his bottle.

“Please. Just get the girl there to lift her skirt and get the old coon distracted.” Bill says, nodding at you, “I reckon no man could pass up the chance at a go at her.”

“That’s enough of that.” Hosea warns, voice cold and dangerous.

“What? It ain’t like we’re above using distractions, and it would be a way for her to finally earn her keep.” Bill leans closer to you, running a finger along the bare skin of your arm, “Easier to do it laying on your back, eh, Y/N-?”

You squirm away, and the group falls silent at his words and the clear panic on your face.From across the campfire, Javier suddenly stands up.

“¡Cállate, pendejo!” He snaps, pointing his finger at Bill.

Bill’s jaw drops, blinking at the man before he too stands. Arthur and the Callender brothers also seem to sober up, looking between the two angry men to see if they will need to break up an upcoming fight. Hosea sighs, tiredly.

“The fuck did you say, you slimy brown fuck?!” Bill barks with a sneer.

“!Eres asqueroso, déjala sola! Borracho desperdicio de espacio...” Javier bites back, looking the other man up and down with clear disgust.

“Fuck’s he saying?!”

“He’s telling you to be quiet, and to leave Y/N alone.” Hosea bites, glaring at Bill.

Bill splutters, looking around the group. Upon realising he has no allies in this fight, he storms off, beer bottle in hand.

An awkward, heated silence is left in his wake.

Arthur sighs, patting your shoulder soothingly before he requests another song from Uncle. The rest of the gang goes back to their previous glee the second the music starts up again, argument forgotten.

You look over at your saviour. Javier murmurs something else venomous at Bill’s retreating form, before he sits back down.

He chooses a seat much closer to you than before, which you internally smile at.

His eyes scan the gang, before landing on you a few feet away. He frowns, avoiding your eyes.

“Lo siento, señorita.” He murmurs, scratching his chin with a remorseful expression.

Confused, you look to Hosea for an explanation. The older outlaw regards Javier, before offering you a smile, “He’s apologising, dear. Probably for getting angry.”

“Oh!” You turn back, “It’s okay, Javier. No lo siento, there’s nothing to apologise for. What’s thank you?” You whisper the last part to Hosea.

“Gracias.” Hosea whispers back.

“Gracias, Javier.”

Javier chuckles, offering you a smile, “De nada, princesa.”

The evening continues without a hitch, sans Dutch giving Bill a stern talking to for his vile words towards you.

You try not to notice Javier occasionally looking over at you, but everytime you feel him glance, you have to fight a giddy smile.

Thank god for the campfire hiding your blush.

It’s been a good few months now, since you met the Mexican freedom fighter.

He’s been nothing but respectful to you, greeting you when he passes and keeping a watchful eye whenever Bill has a few too many.

You cannot help but find yourself drawn to Javier, his good looks and his underlying fire luring you in like a moth to a flame.

Others have noticed, namely Hosea, the observant gossip he is.

You have been trying your hardest to keep your growing feelings a secret. But everytime you bring Javier a cup of coffee in the mornings, or when you pay special attention when sewing his shirts, or how you light up when he arrives unscathed from a job, you can see Hosea giving you a knowing grin, wiggling his eyebrows as you blush.

While you enjoy what time you manage to spend with Javier, the language barrier is creating issues for you.

Javier seems to understand English well enough, being able to translate words in his head impressively well. But he’s quiet, and lacks confidence in attempting to speak English for fear of talking nonsensically.

Today is one of those days where he sits in silence, alone at the edge of camp.

He’s frowning down at one of Dutch’s books as he mumbles the words to himself, trying and failing to pronounce them properly.

You watch him from the sidelines as you enjoy your morning coffee, frowning when he huffs and closes the book. The defeat on his face is heartbreaking, and you put down your tin cup to go over to him.

Maybe you can help him with learning. It's the least you can do, for sure.

“Hola, Javier.” You greet, joining his side with an easy smile. Hosea had been kind enough to teach you greetings, which you are appreciative of.

Javier startles, looking up at you and cringing, wondering how much of his failure you had been witness to, “Hola, señorita.”

“I see you’re trying to learn more English.” You muse, keeping your voice light to not make him think you are making fun of him, “Say, would you like me to help you learn the basics?”

Javier blinks up at you, confused by the quick words you threw at him. You internally chastise yourself for speaking so fast, your nerves getting to you.

But Javier translates in his head, and a small smile replaces the somber look on his face.

“Ah… sí, por favor.” He licks his lips, thinking, “Eh, please.”

Internally celebrating the small victory, you sit down beside him.

He offers you the book, and you look over the page he was attempting to learn from. It seems to be an Evelyn Miller read, complicated words typed in a small font. You sigh slightly, this book has words that even you cannot pronounce, no wonder Javier was struggling.

Way to be empathetic, Mr Van Der Linde.

You close the book, giving Javier an encouraging smile while you put the book away, “Let’s try something easier.”

Javier nods, turning his body to face you. Your heart flutters at having his undivided attention, but you ignore it, focusing on the task at hand.

“Alright, I know you know some of the easier words, like ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’.”

“Hello.” Javier parrots, giving you a little wave.

Oh he’s adorable. When he’s not stabbing people, that is.

“That’s the one.” You chuckle, “How about we start with… the weather! “The weather is fine”, what do you think about that?”

Javier stares at you blankly. Perhaps he didn't understand. You gesture to the sky, and put your thumbs up, “The weather is fine.”

“Oh ¿El clima? Si, está bien.” Javier nods, looking up at the clouds.

“El clima está bien.” You say carefully, “The weather is fine.”

“...The weather… is fine.” Javier mimics, the words clunky in his mouth but he nods determinedly, “The weather is fine.”

“Well done.” You smile, “That is the response. I say, ‘how’s the weather?’ You say…”

“... uh- the weather is fine?” He tries, his pronunciation improving already.

“Sí!” You grin, patting his shoulder. Javier nods, murmuring the sentence to himself again before he looks at you.

You look around, trying to find another sentence to teach him, when he stops you.

“You, go.” Javier says, “You.”

“I go?” You ask, confused “I leave?”

“No.” He chuckles, “El clima está bien, en español.”

“You want to teach me Spanish?” You tilt your head, and Javier mimics it, giving you a cheeky grin.

“Sí, we learn.” He laughs, pointing between you two with a cheeky grin.

Across the way, Hosea and Dutch watch the interaction, entertained and smiling as they murmur to one another.

You chuckle, “Okay, how do I ask?”

Javier clears his throat, “¿Cómo está el clima?”

“¿Cómo está el clima?” You try, and Javier nods vigorously.

“El clima está bien.” He responds. “The weather is fine.”

“Ok.” You grin, ”How is the weather, again?”

“The weather is fine. ¿Cómo está el clima?”

“El clima está bien.” You say confidently, rewarded by Javier's smile.

You’re practically giddy, happy the lesson is going so well. Javier joins you in smiling, watching your face with a soft look.

Across the camp, Dutch and Hosea exchange knowing smiles.

While you reiterate the new Spanish you learned, Uncle stumbles past, uttering mornings to you both. You nudge Javier, who swallows before clearing his throat.

“The weather, is fine.” Javier says sternly.

Uncle blinks at him, before looking up, “That it is, fella, that it is.”

You clap Javier’s first lesson. Javier doesn't bother to hide his proud smile.

Javier was proving to be a better student than you were expecting.

Hosea had given you a book on nature and foraging after you had complained to him about Dutch’s choice of learning material.

“Evelyn Miller? That man is a sadist.” Hosea grumbled to you, “Dutch, do you not want him to learn?!”

It had been funny watching the two of the gang's leaders argue like an old married couple.

Every day, you and Javier would learn over coffee. The book happened to be fantastic for teaching your new friend all kinds of words and how to string sentences.

Now, Javier could easily hold a conversation in English with most members of the gang.

After a particularly bad day, one where Javier had had to go on a job with Bill, you taught him some swears as well.

“Pendejo… you son of a bitch!” Javier had yelled clunkily. It had clearly been worth the fistfight between them, based on Javier’s knowing smile thrown your way after Bill was dragged away.

You’re the proudest teacher.

But the world was not limited to your merry band of outlaws. The gang members were often very patient with Javier, letting him stumble and ignoring mistakes in his grammar to not embarrass him (or receive a knife to the face)

So you decided it was time for some field practise.

On a cold day in Winter, the two of you stand in front of a saloon in the city, people watching while you casually practise conversation.

The topic of today was the basics of pleasantries and being nice. Hosea had asked you to teach Javier how to smooth talk, and you had decided that today he would practise his charm on the English speakers of Blackwater.

You hoped to find an individual in need of a knight in shining armour, so Javier could help them and practise on a new soul.

An older woman across the way had her arms full of shopping bags, frowning as she tried to lift them into her wagon, with little success.

Perfect.

“She’s the one.” You point her out to Javier, who nods, “Now, ‘it would be my pleasure’, try it.”

“It would be my pleasure.” He grits out, rolling his eyes, “What a lie. I take no pleasure in helping these people.”

You giggle, nudging him, “Shut up, you’re a sweetheart really.”

Javier waves you off, before heading over to the struggling woman. He stands behind her awkwardly for a moment, before clearing his throat.

“Could I assist you, miss.” He asks, causing the woman to turn around and look at him.

“Oh!” The woman smiles, sighing in relief, “If you wouldn't mind, sir.”

“It would be my pleasure.” Javier takes the womans bags, lifting them effortlessly up to her wagon. He even offers her his hand, helping her up to sit at the drivers seat.

She thanks him and bids him a good day, and he tips his hat to her.

You curtsy at him as he approaches, “Look at you. A regular American gentleman.”

“You know better than that, princesa.” Javier chuckles, reaching into his pocket and showing you the woman's bracelet, masterfully stolen while he helped her onto the wagon.

“Javier Escuella, what will I do with you?” You laugh, swatting his shoulder.

He catches your hand carefully, before turning your wrist around and clasping the bracelet around it. His fingers are warm to the touch, comforting in the cold weather. With the bracelet attached, he nods his head proudly, holding on to your wrist for a moment longer before spelling back.

You blush, looking down at sparkling jewellery, stolen for you by the man of your dreams.

Lord have mercy.

Trying to avoid Javier’s eyes, you murmur out, “Gracias, Javier.”

He smiles down at you, making your heart race faster. Damn this perfect man.

“Come have a drink with me?” You request, pointing to the saloon, “Celebrate your progress?"

Javier straightens his back, offering you his arm like the perfect gentleman, “It would be my pleasure.”

The two of you enter the saloon, grabbing a couple of beers before sitting at a small table.

Due to the earlier hour, it’s relatively quiet, sans for the soft hum of conversation and gentle music.

The man plays the piano in the corner, a simple tune but you can't help but notice how aptly Javier watches him play, a longing expression on his face.

“Javier? Are you ok?” You ask, placing a hand on his arm.

He startles, like he was lost in thought, before clearing his throat.

“Si, señorita.” Javier nods, though he remains somber, “I used to… uh, you know, música, yes?”

“Music, that’s right. He’s playing the piano.” You look at the pianist, “You used to play piano?”

“No, no. Guitarra.” Javier sighs, miming plucking a guitar. He looks downcast, “A long time ago.”

You frown sympathetically, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe one day you can show me, música y guitarra.” You smile, knowing you definitely did not make a proper sentence. Javier chuckles, and returns your smile in earnest.

“Sí, one day.” He sighs wistfully, “No puedo esperar, señorita. I can not wait.”

Neither can you.

After that day, you were intent on finding a guitar for Javier.

You don't know how you didn't notice it before, but he often watches Uncle when he plays his banjo. A deep sadness permeates from his being, a longing that holds grief as well.

His music was another thing he lost fleeing his country. You know more of his backstory from his brief stories about Mexico, his village, and his family. It breaks your heart to think about what he has lost.

You can give him his music back. And dammit, nothing will stop you.

After a job, you find yourself travelling across the grizzlies alongside Arthur, once again thinking about the man waiting for you at camp.

Well, not waiting for you. Simply waiting.

Yours and Arthur's horses are exhausted, and you’re relieved when you come across a small camp.

The residents, an Italian couple, welcome you, letting you share their campfire and even offering you coffee.

They have a bunch of items that they show you, offering to sell them to help them start a new life in America. You look over the collection, unable to hold back the gasp when you see a worn, dusty guitar amongst the items.

The others look at you, curious. Upon seeing the guitar, the man smiles warmly, “You want?”

“I would, please!” You go to your saddlebags, searching for your coin purse.

“You would?” Arthur asks, looking between you and the guitar, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

You wave him off, “How much?”

“Erm, fifty cents, miss.”

“Here you go.” You hand him the coin.

Arthur regards the interaction with confusion, as the man hands you the guitar. You cannot help the smile on your face, imagining Javier’s reaction.

When the two of you set off, bidding the couple goodbyes, you sit on your mare with the guitar strapped to your back, and Arthur laughs under his breath.

“So, what was that about?” He asks, “Feeling musical? Are you and Uncle starting a band?”

Laughing, you shake your head, “Nah. Someone just promised to play me a song.”

When the two of you arrived in camp, you looked around for Javier, holding the guitar rather awkwardly.

The others looked at it questioningly, but you paid them no mind.

Javier is on guard duty, looking bored as he fiddled with his rifle. You felt nerves as you approached, second guessing yourself as the silence felt heavy around you.

“Javier?” You called as you stood a few feet away, not wanting to startle him.

He turns around, smiling when he spots you. His eyes widen when he sees the instrument in your hands.

You clear your throat, holding it out to him awkwardly, “This is for you.”

Javier gasps, placing his rifle down as he approaches, looking between you and the guitar.

“Me?” He asks quietly, like he can’t believe it.

“You.” You giggle, handing it to him. He takes it, looking down at the instrument.

“Princesa… this is…” Javier trails off, dragging his fingers over the strings, “Muy amable… muchas gracias, señorita!”

“I only know what a couple of those words mean, so you’re welcome, Javier.” You chuckle, beaming as you watch Javier marvel over the old guitar as if it were the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

He looks back up at you, standing with the guitar in hand, seemingly thinking something through.

You’re surprised when he wraps an arm around you, tucking you under his chin as he murmurs another, “Gracias, princesa.”

You hug him back, wrapped in his warmth and comforting smell. Is this the happiest you’ve ever been? Perhaps.

After a moment, you’re sure you feel him press his lips to the crown of your head, before he steps back, clearing his throat.

“I should… go back, to guarding.” He says, holding the guitar close to his chest.

“Of course!” You take a step back, smiling at him, “I'll see you at dinner.”

“I will play for you.” Javier promises, beaming.

You turn and walk away. You can feel his eyes on you as you walk, and you pray you don’t step on a rock and make a fool of yourself. You’re so giddy you feel like this is your first time walking.

Back at camp, you take a sharp breath to calm your racing heart Hosea grins broadly at you.

“Smooth.” He laughs, coming to your side.

“Shut up, old man.” You berate with a smile, elbowing him.

At dinner, Javier joins your side at the campfire, tuning the guitar with nimble fingers. When he was happy, he turned to you, playing a simple tune which made you smile.

That night you fell asleep to the sound of Javier’s singing across camp, and you dreamt of his embrace.

The morning after, Javier Escuella awkwardly walks through camp, searching out Hosea Matthews for advice.

Finding him sitting at one of the tables, Javier clears his throat, hoping to gain the attention of the older man without much embarrassment.

“Señor Matthews?”

Hosea turns around, offering Javier a welcoming smile, “Javier, how are you?”

“I am well, thank you.”

“And how's the weather?”

Javier chuckles, “The weather is fine.”

“You're really coming along with your English.” Hosea muses proudly, “Our dear Y/N seems to be really helping you, huh?”

“Ah, sí, yes.” Javier smiles, attempting to hide his blush underneath the brim of his hat.

But Hosea notices. He always does.

“Pero…I need to learn more.” Javier continues, taking a seat beside Hosea at the table, “Some words that I want to say to her, that I cannot have her teach me. You understand, yes?”

“I do.” Hosea smiles, all knowing “What specific words might I ask?”

“Ah, so many.” Javier sighs, eyes soft as he thinks about you, “She… how do I say it, es muy bonita, si? Very beautiful. Pero hay más, ella es fuerte. Desde que la conocí siento que la vida vuelve a tener sentido. Ella me hace feliz-”

At Hosea’s blank expression, Javier releases a frustrated sigh, standing to pace. He scratches his head, sending Hosea an apologetic look.

“Gah, lo siento, señor. I… ask Y/N, it takes a while to teach me. She says I ramble.”

“I get the gist, Mr Escuella.” Hosea chuckles, shrugging “You’re sweet on her.”

“The sweetest.” Javier murmurs, causing the older man to bark out another laugh.

“Well, it certainly seems there's a lot for you to say.” Hosea muses, running a hand over his face, “Perhaps you shouldn't tell her, but show her.”

“Cómo? How do I show her?”

“I can think of a few ways.”

Javier takes a seat beside Hosea again, leaning forward to listen to the man as he begins detailing ways he could get his point across.

You eye them suspiciously from across camp, wondering what they could possibly be talking about so seriously.

As the sun sets on another day, you stand brushing your horse absentmindedly.

You hate to admit it, but you’re waiting impatiently for Javier to be done with guard duty, so the two of you can sit by the campfire as he plays his guitar for you.

It has become a part of your daily routine, and has begun your favourite part of the day. No competition.

Someone clears their throat behind you, startling you from your thoughts.

Javier stands behind you. He looks bashful, a look you remember from when he first joined the gang. But there is a fierce determination on his face that you recognise.

“Princesa.” Javier greets, offering you a smile despite his obvious nerves.

“Mr Escuella.”

“Javier, por favor. Never Mr Escuella to you.” He says with a smile.

“Lo siento, Javier.” You chuckle, “What’s wrong?”

Javier clears his throat, “Nothing is wrong. In fact, everything is… good.”

He goes silent, looking down at the dirt below as he thinks to himself. Whatever he is thinking about, obviously has him stumped.

You wait, confused but never impatient. Not with him.

“I…” Javier sighs, shaking his head, “Gah, maldice esta idioma.”

You huff out a laugh, “Idioma? If you’re calling me an idiot, I feel I should be offended.”

“Idiot? No! No, no, no. You’re not señor Williamson.” Javier jokes, taking a step closer to you, “I would never say a bad word about you.”

Blushing, you duck your head. Javier reaches out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

When you look up at him, he seems sad.

“You… I wish I knew more.” He sighs, looking at his feet, “If I could speak to you en español, I would have more words to speak. ¿Comprendes?.”

He looks up at you to see if you understand, and you nod encouragingly.

“I talked to Señor Matthews, and he gave me advice that was… eh, muy útil. Useful.”

“What did he say?” You ask.

“That words are not the only way to show how I feel. My actions can speak for me, my heart can speak for me.”

Javier takes your hand, rubbing your thumb.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out your favourite flower, slightly bent out of shape by his pocket.

“Eh…” Javier laughs at the drooping flower, shrugging, “I know they are your favourite.”

“Oh, Javier.” You take the flower, while intertwining your fingers with his other hand, “Thank you- muchas gracias.”

“De nada, cariño.” He cups your face with his hand, before nodding to the flower, “May I put it in your hair?”

You nod, and he takes it from you, gently tilting your head sideways so he can place the flower behind your ear, securing it. His finger dances along your jaw once he is satisfied.

Searching your eyes, he leans forward and presses his forehead to yours.

You cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb along his cheek, to his moustache. Javier purrs at the feeling, kissing the pad of your thumb.

“Kiss me?” You request, the words escaping you like a plea.

Javier smiles widely, “It would be my pleasure.”

He presses his lips to yours gently, a featherlight touch that makes you swoon. They’re softer than you would have thought from a scary outlaw, and warm, branding you with his affection.

You could happily die right here right now, with Javier Escuella kissing you with all the gentleness neither of you truly deserve.

Javier breaks the kiss to look at you once again, chuckling happily to himself.

“Llevo meses queriendo besarte.” Javier sighs, “Your lips… more perfect than I imagined.”

“Have you imagined my lips often?” You tease.

“Every day since I first saw you.”

The confession makes you gasp, surprised that he has desired you for so long.

Javier blushes, looking away, “When Dutch told me he had a gang, I was expecting a bunch of hair brutes. A whole group of Bill Williamsons.”

You both laugh.

“But then, I saw you.” He sighs, wistfully, “It was the first time I was glad to be in America. This country felt so lifeless before you.

“Oh Javier.” You smile, “I feel the same.”

“Mi corazón.” Javier mutters, smiling down at you, “Te amo.”

“Te amo?” You ask, marvelling over the two words, and Javier nods pressing his forehead against yours.

“I love you.”

If those aren't the prettiest words ever, in any language.

“I love you too, Javier.” You sigh, pulling him in for another kiss, “Te amo.”

AN / Javier internally screaming “do you know how smart I am in Spanish??”, I know babygirl was frustrated when he first came over to America

For @ourkokolocoo thank u for requesting some Javier! I'm definitely going to write more for him <3

#fanfic #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 community #red dead fandom #javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #rdr2 fanfic #fawnwilde

72 notes · View notes

valeriele3 · 2 days ago

Text

Rewind Venti x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Meeting a young bard may have sealed your fate to a never-ending journey through Teyvat. Forever wandering and rewinding time. Fluff/Angst(?) Words: 700

"Hey, how many times have we looped time now?"

"Hmm... This is the 10,039th loop…"

"That much, huh…?"

"Yes."

"How much more do you think we'll need?"

"Possibly a few thousand more, but hopefully this is the last."

"No, this has to be the last."

"Barbatos, if this attempt fails yet again, please take care of things for me."

"Alright. You can rest now. I'll take care of things."

"Ah! Y/N! We meet again"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Ah—I—I mean, it's fair if you don't"

"After all, the last time we met was way back when we were kids, remember?" He sheepishly says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Ah, I see…Oh! Could you perhaps be...Lar...Larka...? Yeah, Larka.." you pretended to remember. If you were being honest, you couldn't remember this man or anyone from your past.

All your memories from when you were aged 12 and below were eerily blank.

You wondered if you'd suffer from a head injury, but apparently you hadn't. It felt weird at first.

Like you just woke up from a long slumber. But...ah, how rude.

You've accidentally been staring at the lad while lost in your thoughts.

You look away, embarrassed. "S-Sorry…"

"It's alright, you can stare longer if you want." He playfully winks, making your already red face turn redder.

'Geez, we just met, and I already embarrassed myself.'

'But...strangely, I don't mind it much.'

That was how you "first" met the young lad named "Venti."

He had beautiful turquoise eyes that seemed to hold the winds within, beautiful double-braided hair positioned on each side of his head, a voice that sounded as if it could grasp your heart warmly, and a touch that brought a sense of warmth, comfort, and familiarity.

He was an anomaly to you.

Suddenly appearing in your otherwise bleak life, brightening your world, and filling it with the brightest and most pleasant colors.

Time seemed to pass by slowly, like a glacier. Seemingly frozen in time but moving.

And like glaciers, your life changes, albeit sometimes imperceptibly.

You don't know when it began, but you now often find yourself recollecting memories and experiences that you' swear you've never experienced before.

You felt like you were delusional. Crazy even.

But, if there was one thing you've noticed with these new memories resurfacing, it's that they always seem to predict the future. Like a prophetic dream.

So you've labeled it as that. A power to predict the future. A Prophecy.

Things had been going well. So well, even. And maybe that's why you're in a terrible situation right now. As a payment for all your fortune.

You were trapped in a cave with monsters pouring out endlessly from a hidden domain inside the cave.

How long have you been fighting?

You couldn't count the hours anymore. It felt like hundreds of years had passed already.

Picking up your sword once more, you ready yourself, clinging onto a sliver of hope that maybe, maybe someone would come to your rescue soon.

You just need to hold out for a bit more.

Seeing a mitachurl begin to swing its giant axe at you, you try to dodge, but alas, your tired body had reached its limit.

You couldn't move anymore. Even just holding your sword was draining the last of the energy you had.

'I guess this is it for me…' Closing your eyes, you await the feeling of an axe coming down to slice you in half, but it never comes.

Instead, you felt a calm, gentle breeze.

Opening your eyes, you see what seemed to be the gentle breeze brutally slicing the monsters to pieces. Like a gale.

'Someone..Someone found me..'

'I did it…I survived…' The thought of being saved after long, brutal hours of nonstop fighting hit your body with a wave of exhaustion. Unable to keep yourself up any longer, you collapse on the ground

'Where am I...? '

"Barbatos…! Catch it, it's escaping!"

'Huh? Barbatos...? The Anemo Archon? '

Just then a headache struck you. Like a needle pushing itself further inside you.

'Agh…My head…It hurts…'

"Flowers? For me? Aww, thank you!"

"Barbatos, look! Look! I made you a flower crown and...a matching flower ring just for the two of us."

"Barbatos, what is that?"

"What did you do?!"

"｢⟄ v⟃⟔⟔⋖"

"I'm sorry... Please... Let me turn back the time once more."

"I'll do better the next time!"

"Ah...Ah...No...Not again…I don't want this ending."

Whirr

Click-click

Zzzziiip

"This time, I will save this world from destruction."

"B̷̌̈a̸̓̄ŕ̴̅b̸̑̕a̵̦͛t̷̿̾ó̵̀s̵̎̂will you join me in my perpetual journey?"

Whirr

"Hey, how many times have we looped time now?"

"Hmm... This is the 10,0....."

62 notes · View notes

the-fyre-flie · 2 days ago

Text

Billy Batson angst... hmmm... no one touch me while I cry over my own writing, okay?

Angst, no real happy ending

Billy is 100% certain he's dying. For once, his thoughts are incredibly silent, no longer being invaded by the voices of mythos. His body aches, his vision is blurry, and the sounds of battle seem so far away. The ground beneath him is rocky and uncomfortable, but honestly... sleeping here wouldn't be too terrible. He's slept in worse places. At least here is warm. Or... he's warm. Very warm. Too warm. He can barely manage to move, to look down at himself, but the hazy red mess he catches a glimpse of isn't his costume. His hands, small, shaking hands, aren't Captain Marvels. They're a boys hands. A terrified little boy who's very much certain he's going to die alone on a battlefield. Distant explosions keep pulling his attention back to the fact that he's a failure. He failed the mission. He failed to protect Earth. Everyone was going to hate him because of this. It was all his fault. He was just a stupid kid who thought he could fight with the adults. He thought being Captain Marvel made him invincible. It clearly didn't. Captain Marvel was just a man. Billy Batson was just a boy.

His blurry vision was getting worse and worse. More red, so much red. Why was everything red? Why was this redish blueish blob talking to him? Why was this warmth different? Why did it feel like someone hugging him? He couldn't make out anything as he struggled to keep himself from blacking out. Batmans training nagged at the back of his mind. 'Don't fall asleep.' He was even failing at that. Gods, he should have been kicked off the Justice League as soon as they found out about him. He wasn't fit to be a hero. He couldn't even save himself.

The last thing he remembered was a voice telling him to keep breathing, to focus, to please hold on.

When he finally came to, Billy was in a lot of pain. A dull ache in the base of his skull, sharp jolts of agony whenever he moved, a pounding headache when a voice immediately chided him for trying to get up. Supermans voice. Clarks voice. Opening his eyes felt like a struggle, but when he did, a blindingly bright room and very worried man greeted him. The Kyrptonian looked like hell, bags under his eyes, and a sad smile across his lips. He hadn't even said anything yet before Billy was choking out apologies and crying, his pained body protesting the outburst. Even when Clark told him over and over that it was okay, that they won the fight thanks to Billys sacrifice, the boy couldn't stop crying. He had genuinely thought he would die being hated and blamed. It only got worse when Clark pulled him into a gentle hug, lowering his voice to a whisper and apologizing in turn for not protecting him better. Billy can feel Clark clutching to him, he can feel how the alien is so utterly tense despite how gentle he's being. He can feel Clarks sarrow and guilt and regret. And it only makes him want to apologize more.

78 notes · View notes

rafes-slut · 9 hours ago

Text

Price of Affection

Pairing: bsf!Rafe Cameron x reader

Warnings: Slightly toxic dynamics, possessiveness, mild angst, Rafe being controlling in a subtle way, mentions of money and wealth disparity, manipulation, cursing.

Summary: Rafe has always spoiled you—buying whatever you wanted, sending you money for no reason, and making sure you never had to lift a finger. You never questioned it; you loved the way he took care of you. But when people start pointing out how strange it is, you begin to wonder—what does Rafe really get out of this

Rafe had always been generous with you. More than generous, really. He spoiled you rotten in a way that made your friends side-eye the whole thing, but you never thought too much about it. Why would you. He was your best friend. And if your best friend wanted to throw his Kook wealth around and make sure you never went without, who were you to argue.

It started small. A coffee here, an Uber ride there. But before long, he was sliding cash into your purse when you weren’t looking, sending you random Venmo transfers with nothing but a winking emoji as a caption, buying you anything you even glanced at for too long. A new dress for a party. Done. That necklace you thought was cute. Already in a box on your bed before you could even think about saving up for it. Rent? He offered. And when you refused, saying you couldn’t just take his money like that, he only scoffed.

"You think I care about a few hundred dollars?" His voice was always so casual when he said it, like it wasn’t a big deal. Like it wasn’t weird.

And you didn’t think it was. Not at first.

You liked being spoiled. You liked the feeling of his money taking care of things before you even had to worry about them. And Rafe. He liked taking care of you. It was never a transaction. There were no expectations. It was just… Rafe being Rafe.

Until people started to talk.

“Best friends don’t do that,” your friend snorted over brunch one day. “That’s some sugar daddy behavior.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing it off. “He just likes taking care of me.”

“Yeah, why do you think that is?”

The question stuck with you longer than you wanted it to. You thought back to the way Rafe would smirk when he saw you wearing something he bought you. How his gaze would darken just slightly when another guy complimented your outfit, as if he was silently reminding them that he was the reason you looked that good.

Or the way he never let you pay for anything yourself, going so far as to pluck your wallet right out of your hands at times.

The next time he sent you money—five hundred dollars, no context—you called him.

“What’s this for?”

“Does it have to be for something?” Rafe’s voice was lazy, laced with amusement. “Just wanted to.”

You hesitated. “People think it’s weird, you know.”

He sighed, like the whole thing was ridiculous. “Who cares what people think?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, gnawing on your lip. “It’s just… it’s a lot, Rafe.”

“So?”

“So… maybe it’s too much.”

The silence on the other end of the line was brief but heavy. And then, he laughed. It wasn’t the warm, easy laugh you were used to—it was something else. Something sharper.

“Don’t start acting different now,” he said, voice low. “You like being taken care of, don’t you?”

You swallowed. You did. You really did.

So why did it suddenly feel like a trap?

107 notes · View notes

yeonmuse · 1 day ago

Text

SYNOPSIS — Park Sunghoon doesn’t usually like involving himself with those at Chaconne academy, but when he finds out his little sister’s music teacher attends and she starts getting a little too close she forces him to let his guard down. Now he’s gotta juggle new people and new emotions entering his life and she’s got to face her past in order to hold tight to him and her future.

ᥫ᭡ f!reader x Park Sunghoon ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, angst non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are closed] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🎻

⍣ ೋ AUTHORS NOTES . Strong angst themes, slow burn but mostly fluff. I’m not sure where this idea had come from considering I have 4 unfinished series out right now but I wrote this in 4 days so lets fucking go i guess??? Includes Choi Yeonjun, Bae Jinyoung, Kim Sunwoo, Jung Wooyoung, Shen Ricky, Xu Jiaqi and Asaya Jurin. Wc is 4.1k

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | ENDING

Chaconne Academy was one of the many elitist schools in the district, your typical run of the mill prissy assholes that felt they were better than everyone else simply because they’d paid a higher price for their education. Those that attended had either been scouted and recruited by the board while anyone other than those that worked hard to get in, were born into nepotism. Born into the wealth of the school or simply owed favors by the dean and those on the board. Though where exactly did that leave you? You were the absolute opposite type of what the school had been looking for, though very talented and passionate when it came to music you werent exactly the vibrant type. You were fairly quiet, you’d only talked to those you absolutely had to, otherwise you’d be compelled to spill your guts once you truly got to know someone. You’d rarely liked to stand out amongst the crowd because truth be told you’d completely hated attention. Though when it came to writing and composing music or holding a mic in your hand that was where you absolutely shined. In high school you’d grab attention occasionally, many finding you pretty but almost immediately losing interest when they found that you rarely talked. You were never the type that liked to dwell in the spotlight.

You certainly weren't rich nor had you been scouted by anyone so how exactly had your father pulled enough strings to have gotten you into such a highly praised academy? You weren’t exactly sure nor had you cared because you had finally found yourself a group of people you knew would understand you amongst all, or at least you thought you had. The pictures and virtual tour had done no justice to the school itself, not only was it huge, but it was absolutely breathtaking, its outdated castle-like exterior contrasted to its much more modern interior. The visuals certainly lived up to the expectations that had been set by the school's reputation itself. Having been busy taking in your surroundings you found yourself quite distracted, maybe a little too distracted, seemingly unaware of the red haired man hurdling right towards you on his skateboard immediately knocking you off your feet.

“Shit, I'm sorry.’’ Scrambling to his feet he helps you up, holding onto your hand a little longer than he should have been , turning the already embarrassing encounter much more awkward than needed.

“I didn’t see you, I’m sorry. I didn’t hurt you or anything right”

“Aside from the embarrassment of being ran over and knocked down in the middle of the corridor completely fine, nothing hurt, nothings broken.’’ You reassure him, making him let out a relieved sigh.

“Actually now that I think about it I don’t think i’ve seen you here at all.’’

“That’s because i'm new.’’

“Ah I should have known, since there aren’t many of us here it’s easy to remember the faces of those that attend, and I know for a fact yours is one I wouldn’t have forgotten.’’ there's a flirtatious undertone to his words, making you look away which hadn’t gone unnoticed by him.

“I’m Yeonjun by the way.’’

“Yn’’

A silence lingers between the two of you momentarily after your self introductions, the silent streak only having been broken when Yeonjuns name is called from behind you, making his eyes finally redirect from you who stood in front of him to a group standing behind you.

Four other guys and two girls stood in the entranceway of the hallway, seemingly waiting for Yeonjun to Join them.

“One second.’’ His attention returns to you as he once again makes sure that you’re okay from the fall.Truth be told you were more embarrassed than anything and just grateful that no one had been there to witness the collision

“I’m fine, it looks like your friends are waiting for you and i’ve got to check in with the dean.’’

“Good luck with that, oh and let’s not tell her about our little collision, I don’t need another lecture from her about skating in the halls again.’’ he inquired, sheepishly scratching at the nape of his neck.

“Your secrets safe with me.’’

“I’ll see you around. Goodluck on your first day yeah?’’

“Thanks.’’ without another word he’d picked up his skateboard and gone to join the others, leaving you alone once again. It was then that you realized you’d completely missed the opportunity to ask him where the dean's office had been. Which meant you were now completely fucked and left with no chance of finding it without roaming the entire building. You’d roamed for what felt like an hour but had only been a mere ten minutes, eventually getting yourself lost.

“I should have asked him for directions.’’ a sigh slipped past your lips and you’re immediately startled as you hear someone speak up from behind you.

“Are you lost or something?’’

“Is it that obvious?’’

“Well the “i should have asked him for directions” and the fact that you’re in the guys dormitories which is restricted to the girls are kind of gave it away.’’ you mentally facepalm, taking a mental note of the information he’d just given you before turning to face the owner of the voice that had startled you only a moment ago.

“You must be the new girl Yeonjun told everyone about.’’

“Already? We only just met a few minutes ago?’’

“Word travels fast here, especially if Choi Yeonjun is the man given the information. So by now nearly half the school knows about you.’’

“Great.’’

“I’m assuming you’re looking for the dean's office then? And in that case you’re in the wrong building. This is building B, Building A is where the courses take place and where the dean's office is located, Building C are the girls dormitories.”

“Where are those exactly?’’ you felt bad for having to bombard him with so many questions though he on the other hand didn’t seem to mind.

“Luckily i’m on my way to soccer practice so I don’t mind showing you.’’

“Seriously? You really don’t mind?’’

“I’m headed that way anyways, what’s your name by the way Yeonjun conveniently forgot to pass on that information.’’

“Yn, it’s yn”

“Well welcome to Chaconne y/n i’m Sunwoo.’’

“There's no way you just let her walk past you like that? She’s been giving you the eyes for a month now.” jakes eyes trailed behind Kim Yuna like a cat following a laser beam. Kim Yuna had set her eyes on Sunghoon the moment he’d arrived at the school but as of recent she’d found herself growing more bold with her efforts. Subtle glances and greetings in the hallway had turned into not so subtle flirting, eye batting and seduction attempts, all of which Sunghoon paid no mind. Truth be told, aside from the very few people he’d been close to, he didn't care to get to know anyone else at the school. Not only was it pointless, but every single one of them were the same aside from a handful of people, all spoiled and spoon fed their entire lives, completely entitled. Sunghoon himself had also been well off, though he differed in the fact that he didn’t flaunt his money or use it as an excuse to treat people anyway he wanted. He’d treated them all the same, he simply didn’t care for any of them nor had he desired being close to any of them.

“I don’t know why you expected him to show any interest all of a sudden when he’s never given her the time of day no matter how many times Yunas attempted to flirt with him.’’ Jay interrupts, his focus solely on tuning his guitar in hand while Jake continues to whine in disbelief that Sunghoon had let such an opportunity pass him by.

Sunghoon on the other hand had paid him no mind. Glasses perched up on the bridge of his nose, fingers clicking away at his keyboard he’d chosen to simply ignore the latter. He’d grown used to Jake's whining and complaining by now, having known both him and Jake since middle school when their parents had all forced them to attend a shared event. They had all been thirteen at the time, each of them having bonded over dropping frogs in the punch bowl, every one of them having been scolded to the gods for ruining the entire event. They had all been friends ever since.

“He hasn’t given one girl a chance since we’ve gotten here, it’s scary. Wait or are you just not into girls- because you know if you’d rather a dude then that’s okay too.’’ Sunghoon, finally looking up from his computer gives Jake a stern look, one that blatantly read ‘what the hell is wrong with you’ But of course Jake simply ignored it.

“You know sometimes with you, I swear the stores are open but no one's shopping.” Jay retorts, making Jakes brows furrowed in confusion.

“Whatever the hell that means.’’

After what felt like an hour long talk with the dean you had settled into your dormitory. Since classes had already started that meant you’d not yet met your roommates but you were praying to every god known to man that they’d be someone you got along with. Today having been your first day arriving both you and the dean had set today’s priorities on you having gotten all moved in and used to the school. You on the other hand had found comfort in Sunwoo, and rather than get lost trying to find your way through the school all alone, you’d rather take your chances asking him to show you around. Until then that left you with nothing to do other than organize your room and job search. After two hours of room decorating and screaming Shinees entire discography at the top of your lungs, you’d eventually showered and sat yourself at the dining room table, scrolling through job after job until you eventually set your eyes on one that piqued your interest.

“Music teacher wanted.”

“We’re looking for someone to teach our youngest daughter about music. Recently she’s taken an interest in instruments we know nothing about. She’s also taken an interest in composing and note writing and we’re looking for an experienced professional, pay would be 200 dollars an hour.’’

Your eyes had nearly fallen from your face upon reading the price, 200 an hour simply to teach a kid music? They had to be either absolutely crazy or extremely wealthy. Either way you didn’t truly care because you’d apply with or without having known such information. Truth be told you’d never taught anyone professionally your entire life. The closest you’d gotten to teaching anyone was when you taught your little cousin how to play guitar hero at the age of eight.

You’d taught yourself to play nearly every instrument known to man, so how difficult could it be teaching someone else, let alone a child?

Your gaze snapped away from your laptop to the door as you heard it swing open and in came two girls yelling about where they should go out for dinner. As if finally seeming to have realized you had been sitting there they’d stopped dead in their tracks, one of them giving you a smile while the other stood rubbing her temples, you assumed it was due to the fact that the other had been screaming only mere seconds before.

“Oh you’re the girl Yeonjun was talking to earlier.’’ the girl that had been yelling moments ago, takes note as the other shuts the door behind them.

“I’m Jiaqi but you can call me jia, this is Jurin”

“Yn, nice to meet you.’’

“Jia the girl just got here, can you maybe not talk her ear off?’’

“I haven’t even said or asked anything yet?’’

“Yeah but I knew it was coming.’’

“Honestly I don’t mind, since we’re all gonna be sharing this space I don’t mind answering any questions you have.’’ you respond while closing your laptop, making jiaqis' nose scrunch up as she turns to Jurin.

“See rin, She doesn’t mind.” she retorts, an all knowing tone before turning her attention back to you

“We were just about to head out for lunch did you want to join us?’’

“Sure, just let me change into something less, homey.’’ you respond, glancing down at your outfit before standing from your seat at the table, earning a laugh from Jiaqi.

The rest of the day had gone by smoothly, you and the girls had taken the time out to get to know one another and you’d found out that you all had a few things in common. Similar music tastes, the same favorite ice cream flavor, you’d even find out that you and Jurin had attended the same middle school and just never crossed paths.

Sunghoon had arrived back home, happy to finally be back and get his much needed break from the classes and constant eyes on him. Even if it was a mere two days away he was grateful every time the weekend had come around, it meant no alarms and no agonizing drive from the campus and back. Though he could have made it far easier on himself and gotten a dorm, he'd rather take the drive back and forth from home to campus, rather than be forced to share a room with someone he knew he couldn’t bother getting to know.

“Oh good you’re here.’’ Sunghoons mom enters his room, poking her earring through her ear as she steps inside.

“Your father and I have to attend an emergency meeting, but Yoari’s new music teacher should be on her way soon, we left her instructions on the coffee table, and the money to pay her is in the safe, we told security to let her into the gate when she arrives just check up on her and your sister every now and then.’’

“You got her a teacher?’’

“Well yes, she wanted to learn music so we put up an ad two days ago.’’

“You hired a stranger to teach her when you could have gotten me or Jay?”

“You and Jay are not professionals sweetheart, and we’d rather you focus on your own classes and studies, we’ve been over this.’’

“So we’re just letting a stranger in the house and you haven’t even met them yet.’’ His mother opens his mouth to respond but their conversation is cut short when his father calls out, warning her that the two would be late which prompts her to give him a reassuring look and kiss on the forehead before leaving his room.

It wasn’t that Sunghoon didn’t like the idea of his little sister learning music, it was the simple fact that his parents hadn’t even bothered to get to know whoever it was they had hired. He loved his little sister more than anything, he’d been protective of her since the day she was born and he got to hold her in his arms for the first time. Of course he wanted to see his little sister happy and learning music but not with a absolute stranger when he or Jay were completely capable.

A ring at the door interrupts his thoughts and he assumes it's the unknown music teacher that his parents had hired. Making his way down the stairs, he finds that the door had already been open and his eight year old sister stood in the doorway across from who he assumed was the music teacher.

“Hi sweetheart, um where are your parents?’’

“Yoari what’d we tell you about opening the door for people you don’t know?’’ Sunghoon interrupts, taking his descend down the stairs and over to the door.

“But it’s just my teacher.’’

“Still you don’t know her.’’ Sunghoon eyes the girl watching as her lips pressed into a thin line while she observed the interaction between the two.

The tour of the house had been awkward to say the least, you’d been meeting the guy for the first time and you could already feel the atmosphere become tense. From the very moment you’d entered to the moment your tour around the home ended he’d been cold towards you. You hadn’t expected the guy to be overly nice but neither did you expect him to completely shut you out either. Before she could even think she’d spoken the words that sat at the edge of her brain from the moment she’d set eyes on him.

“You look really young for someone that has a kid” He’d immediately stopped reading the directions and gave her a look that made her wish the ground would swallow her whole.

“That’s because she’s my sister.’’ Oh? Now you have gone from wanting the ground to swallow you whole to wanting to completely disappear from the universe itself.

“Oh.’’ While you had been fighting back your embarrassment, Sunghoon who found your reaction amusing had been forcing back a laugh.

Your first practice had gone fairly well, today you’d been teaching Yoari one of the many instruments on her parents lists that she had been eager to play, the violin. Yoari had caught on quite fast, it made you realize how much children had advanced since when you were her age, it’d taken you an entire year to learn to play the violin and she’d caught on as if it had been something she’d been doing for her entire life.

“That was amazing Yoari, you read the notes pretty well so i’ll give you one of the songs and we can try and play that next, let’s see how far you can read and work on what you can’t.” as you placed the music in front of her the sound of your stomach growling cut through the silence like a knife. A giggle spills from the little girl's lips and you clear your throat, feeling embarrassed for the second time today.

“Maybe let’s take a short little break.’’

You left Yoari alone momentarily, making your way up the stairs and trying your best to remember where Sunghoon had told you his room had been when he’d given the tour. Eventually you stumbled across his door and knocked softly, receiving no response. After knocking again and earning not a peep you quietly turn the knob and push the door open. You found Sunghoon sitting at his window with headphones on and a notepad in hand. Now there you stood calling his name and flailing your arms around like an idiot trying to get his attention. Luckily he’d sensed your presence and caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye.

“Did you need something?’’ He finally acknowledges your presence, pulling his headphones off his ears and having them rest on his neck, allowing you to faintly hear the song he’d been listening to.

“You listen to wisp?’’ your eyes widened with disbelief, and for a moment Sunghoon's stoic expression contorted into one of disbelief.

“You know them?’’

“Well yeah i’ve got every song, even made my own hard copy on record of the latest album.’’

“A record? You still use those?’’ He responds, earning an eye roll and a scoff from you.

“Yes I do. And I'm not the only one by the way, vinyls are making a comeback.’’A smile ghosts on his face, yet it falls as fast as it appears. A silence lingered between the two of you for a moment and the only thing breaking it once again was the sound of your stomach.

“I was supposed to ask you about the kitchen, but.’’

“Your stomach beat you to it.’’ You didn’t even know what to say, you knew it was a natural thing but the fact that it had been so loud was agonizingly embarrassing. Without a word he stands from his spot at the window and makes his way towards the door, leaving you to follow.

Sunghoon wasn’t sure what made him decide to cook for you, he’d chalked it up to himself also being hungry and his sister also needing something to eat. He still didn’t fully trust you, after all he knew absolutely nothing about you other than you seemed to get embarrassed easily.

“so..do you play?’’

“What?’’

“The instruments, do you play? I’m only assuming since your parents already had the instruments here, the job didn’t require me bringing my own.’’ for a moment Sunghoon just sat there, his lips pressed into a thin line, he wasn’t exactly a talker and right now you seemed to be pushing those boundaries.

“He’s been playing since he was six.’’ His little sister includes herself in the conversation, perching herself up on the stool right in the middle of you and Sunghoon.

“Oh? So music just runs in this family?’’ you respond playfully looking over at Sunghoon who still seemed very much closed off to you.

“Mm no mom and dad hate it, they only let us play because they know it’s what we love to do.’’ the little girl continues, while Sunghoon just took the opportunity to continue eating, leaving you to eye him curiously. It was obvious that while Yoari liked you he still hadn’t fully warmed up to you yet.

“My mom hated music too, she’d say that all of it was just noise.’’ you don’t know why you suddenly felt the need to spill your guts to an eight year old girl and her brother who you weren’t even sure was listening but here you were.

“The only reason I was allowed to play growing up was because of my dad, he’d buy me all the latest cds and pay for my lessons, he’d work extra shifts just to pay for my first violin.”

“Your dad sounds cool!’’ Yoari responds enthusiastically, spaghetti sauce smeared on her face as she continues to eat while listening.

“Yeah he is, he gave up everything just to make sure that his only daughter didn’t give up on her dream even if that meant-’’ You paused realizing you’d dug a little too deep into the details of your own life. Leaving not only Yoari to look at you curiously but Sunghoon as well.

“Meant what?’’ Yoari asks curiously, her doe eyes staring straight up at you as she waits for you to finish your sentence.

“Even if it meant I get to teach someone as amazing, and talented as you Yoari.’’ you fake a smile, a smile that was enough to fool Yoari, but Sunghoon saw straight through it. He didn’t question it though, after all the two of you had only met today and it wasn’t his business to involve himself.

You’d eventually return to your dorm to find not only Jurin and Jiaqi but the others that had been waiting for Yeonjun on your first day. They had all sat in your living room screaming over what looked like a game of Uno.

“Oh yn you’re back.’’ Jurin was the first to realize you’d been back, making everyone's attention fall upon you.

“Hey, it’s my collision buddy.’’ Yeonjun greets you, making you cringe at the name.

“Collision buddy?’’

“Almost ran over her on my skateboard her first day.’’

“You idiot didn’t the dean tell you you’d be scrapping the gum off the desks if she caught you skating in the corridor again?’’

“Well it’s a good thing she didn’t catch me then isn’t it.’’

Jiaqi jogs over to you, locking her arm with yours. She takes you over to the group and introduces you. In addition to learning Jiaqi and Jurin you could finally put names to each face you’d learned, Aside from Yeonjun you’d found out their names were Wooyoung, Ricky, and Jinyoung. After having gotten to know each of them you’d clicked with all of them pretty well, or that was until yet another round of Uno began and all hell broke loose. That night ended with your newfound friends yelling over the game and eventually deciding it was best you all never played uno again.

On the other side of town Sunghoon sat quietly at the piano absentmindedly pressing his fingers against the keys. After the conversation in the kitchen and seeing how well you’d treated his sister he began to have second thoughts about you. Maybe he’d judged you too soon, maybe you were someone that would be good for his sister? He’d found himself thinking about you for the rest of the night, most of all he wondered what it was that you had really wanted to say when you had been talking to his sister. What you actually were going to let slip before you’d seem to catch yourself. For the first time he found himself interested in someone else other than himself, Jay, Jake or Yoari.

🔖 @jwonistic @bubblytaetae @pkjay @heesallure @planetmarlowe @dreeki @butterflywonz @lillotus17 @squiishymeow @river-demon-slayer @sol3chu @st4rryst4r @firstclassjaylee @right-person-wrong-time @riribelle @gaytron3000 @heesunghooney @i03jae @blackhairandbangs @sunooqvrlsx @addictedtohobi @enaile23 @ivyvioletcarson @kristynaaah @starbyeol1512 @tinyteezer @jkslvsnella

76 notes · View notes

fanfictiongirlie · 3 days ago

Text

Marvel: One Night to Forever - Request -

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request: Link to request ask

Description: Have this idea for a story Bucky and I guess she could be an analyst or something while they both get drunk at one of Tony's parties and they have a one-night stand and about 2 months later she finds out that she's pregnant but by this time Bucky is with another woman or so she thinks what ends up happening is this woman is just somebody that's pestering him constantly and he wants nothing to do with her but reader thinks that's his new girlfriend so what she does is ask Tony for a transfer and runs away cuz she doesn't want to ruin Bucky's new relationship even though it's not a relationship for real and eventually he overhears something from somebody probably not and finds out that she took off because she's pregnant and he turns the world upside down looking for her and he finally finds her and he is just beside himself and asking her why did you leave why wouldn't you tell me something like this and well they end up making a lot of love and they finally end up together in the end and if this is corny and if it's something that you don't think you want to do that's cool but I thought it was kind of cute.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Alcohol, drunk sex, use of 'good girl', angst, idiots in love, smut.

Words: 5,273

Read on ao3

Completed One-Shot

Hiii, I may have struggled to write this, for some reason. Either way, it's all written up! I hope you like it! <3

A smile played on your lips as you looked round the room, one of Tony's famous, or rather infamous parties. You looked around, your eyes slightly glassy as you did so, everyone was either dancing or deep in a conversation, except one. Bucky Barnes, you smirked as you stalked towards him.

Bucky had found the quietest corner he could find, he hated these parties, but Steve. Damn, Steve always made him come to them, it was like he wanted to torture his best friend. He was also hiding away from a certain person who worked closely with the Avengers. But then, he looked up, seeing you walking towards him. He tried not to look to excited as his eyes watched you walk. His favourite person by far, was you, not that he would ever tell you.

"Ah, if it isn't my favourite nerd" He says with a lazy smirk.

"You pronounced 'Glue that keeps the Avengers together' wrong Barnes" You say, you twirl and lean against the wall, your arm pressed against his ever so slightly. He had a beer in hand, much like the one in your hand. You felt your cheeks flush slightly the longer you look at him, he was so pretty.

"Heard you got that promotion" He says as he lifts his beer bottle up to his lips, taking a long swig. You watched as he did, only slightly mesmerised by the softness of his lips around the beer bottle. Subconsciously you licked your lips, the thought of his soft lips against yours consumed your brain for a moment.

"I did" You say proudly, head analyst for the Avengers, Tony even gave you your own office. You sigh slightly, looking around the room, everyone was laughing or happy. "We could celebrate" You add.

Bucky looked round the room, his arm motioning to the bustle of the party. "This is a celebration"

"Yeah, but you hate being here, come on Bucks" You say prodding his arm. "Let's go have our own party, drinking games in my new office"

"Fuck, doll" He says in a breathy voice, making you feel a little fuzzy inside. "That's a brilliant idea, let's go"

And so you left the party, sneaking out without a care in the world for the others. Inside your office, you beamed as you looked around, it was empty and new yeah, but you couldn't wait to give it your own flare.

"Nice" Bucky mutters as he follows you, you close the door behind you, and root through a box finding the expensive bottle of Dalmore 25 Year Old Single Malt Whisky that Tony had gifted you. You didn't want to know how much he had spent on the bottle.

The two of you opted to sit on the ground, passing the bottle between you. As you got drunker the lines between you started to blur, you sat closer, touched a little more... Little touches on the arm, lingering touches, moving closer together.

"I...need to... fuck doll" Bucky whispers, he was sitting so close to you, you could feel the warmth of his skin against yours, the little dress you wore making his lingering touches feel intoxicating as his fingers traced small shapes onto the side of your exposed knee.

"What Bucks?" You whisper, you had an inkling you knew what he wanted, and fuck, did you want it too.

"I want to kiss you, but I'm so drunk, and you're so drunk" He whispers, if he had moved an inch closer his nose would touch yours, you were so close to tasting his breath on your lips, you craved it, yearned for it, so you moved, your brain was a drunken haze, and the sober part of you would normally have said wait till you were sober, but you weren't.

You moaned softly as your lips touched his, the firework of emotions hit you hard, and to your surprise Bucky kissed back, his lips were moving against yours in a hunger, his flesh hand moved to hold your jaw as you kissed. Your lips moved messily together, soft giggles left both of your lips as Bucky's metal arm snaked around your waist, lifting you to sit on his lap. You knew your dress would of lifted up over your legs, bunching up around your hips, you smiled softly as you kissed him, pleased you were wearing a serious cute pair of panties.

"Fuck" Bucky mutters, his lips move from yours, dragging down your jaw, you rest your head backwards, giving him full access to your throat. His hands splayed out on your back, holding you firmly against him as his lips attacked your neck, kissing you, licking you, biting you. "Doll, would be a horrible suggestion..." He started to say, you grind your hips down, feeling his hard cock in his suit trousers, his breath caught in his throat as you moved.

"Fuck, baby..." He groans softly, his hands move down to hold your hips, helping you grind steadily on him. "That's it, god, fucking good girl"

You giggle softly, enjoying him call you that, you move down slightly, pressing your lips to his jaw, kissing soft kisses as you travel from his chin to just below his ear. "What was your suggestion?"

"Fuck, let me fuck you..." He groans. You giggle softly, the alcohol buzzing through your veins making you feel a little more giggly than usual when you speak. "Bucks, that was already on the cards, but if you want an actual yes, then yes, please, fuck me"

"No..." He mumbles, his eyes close as you kiss his jaw, sucking small marks into his pale skin. "I wanna fuck you, on your desk"

"Oh....oh, that's a good idea" You whisper, moving back slightly, his perfect blue eyes looked into your eyes, making you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

In a matter of moments, Bucky had you up in his arms as he stand, your desk was near enough clear, he laid you down on your back and looked down at you from above.

"God, you're pretty... fuck you know you're pretty don't you?" He asks, you move your feet up onto the desk, opening your legs for him, showing off those panties you were wearing. With shaky hands, both his flesh and metal hands moved to hold your inner thighs, he moved up slowly, enough to make you whine as he teased you.

"So beautiful" He mutters as he pulls your underwear down, you lie there, watching him in awe, he was beautiful. His suit jacket had been discarded a while ago, his perfect white shirt was half unbuttoned showing a slight amount of his chest hair.

It didn't take long for you to both be naked, almost naked. His trousers and boxers were down by his ankles, and his shirt completely unbuttoned now, one shoulder bare as the shirt fell. Your dress was hiked up to your middle, showing off your tits and now bare pussy. Bucky's lips were glistening, his hands were on your thighs, spreading you as his tongue spread your folds. He groaned loudly as he tasted you.

You wriggled on your desk, eyes shut as you moaned loudly, your fingers weaved through his hair, holding him down onto you, your other hand was on your chest, idly playing with your nipples.

"Bucky..."You whine, your words slurred slightly. "Please, need you"

He looked up at you from in between your legs, smirking, he moves forward, sucking your clit again, making your legs shake. He chuckled darkly and moved to stand up, his flesh hand moved to grip his hard cock, you were in awe, he was thick, your pussy clenched in excitement, you wanted to worship him, touch his cock, taste him...Even stroke your fingers through the soft curls at the base of his cock. You had it bad for him.

"You ready for me?" He asks, smirking as he looks down at you, his eyes slowly moving over your entire body, you nodded, biting your lip as you spread your legs further for him. He moved a little closer and pushed his cock against your clit, you whined softly. You were dripping wet, his cock slipped down your folds. "God, Bucky.. please"

He grinned, and finally pushed the head of his cock inside of you. He moved slow at first, letting you adjust to his girth. As he pushed fully into you, he lent down, moving one of his hands to brush your hair and the side of your face, saying sweet words.

"Bucky" You moaned softly.

"Don't worry, darling. I'll give you what you need" He whispers, for the next few moments he kisses you, nips at your lips, until finally he starts moving his hips. The two of you made the desk shake as he thrusts into you. You wrap your legs around his waist, and in both of your drunken states you fucked messily and hard.

Tony's party was still in full force, no one would find you, so you fucked loud and hard. His grunts and groans were enough to have you coming hard around his cock, you knew he hadn't had many girls like this since his Winter Soldier days were over, but he was an expert, you now believed Steve when he said Bucky used to be a ladies man in the 40s. He was perfect.

"Fuck, gonna come baby, let me pull out" He groans, your legs still wrapped around his waist tightly.

"I'm on birth control, fill me up baby" You whimper, you were feeling slightly overstimulated, having lost count how many times his touches had made you come. His eyes widen slightly at your words, but he was too drunk to listen to reason, with a few more thrusts he was coming hard, soft whimpers left his lips as he spilled his seed deep inside of you.

Stupidly, you both decided falling asleep on the floor of your office was a good idea. It wasn't, in the morning not only did your head hurt from a wicked hangover but your backs hurt from the hard floor.

You were a little sad it wasn't the morning you had dreamt of for your first time with Bucky. He was his usual quiet self as he got dressed.

"Doll, I..." But you didn't let him finish, automatically you thought he had regretted it.

"Bucky, you don't need to explain" You say softly.

"Doll, I enjoyed myself... I was going to tell you I had a mission tonight, not that I regretted this" He explains, you nod, feeling a little silly. You knew about the mission

Bucky, Steve and Nat left for the mission, leaving you to get used to your new job. You wished you could text Bucky, talk to him just to make you feel less stressed, but after a few weeks you were certain he did feel the same. And you had decided that when they were back from the mission, you would meet him at the hanger and run to him, throwing your arms around his neck to welcome him back.

A few days before Bucky was due back, you felt weird, not quite yourself. You had thought it was just a bug at first, but then Wanda, with her witchyness looked at you oddly. You were sitting in the Avengers canteen, enjoying a coffee, since you weren't able to stomach anything else at the moment.

"You...seem different" She says as she sits opposite you. You cock your head, confused to what she could mean.

"Different how? Like that new job glow?" You ask, smirking a little.

"No...It's a glow yes, but for something else" She says, her eyes shine red for a moment before she gasps.

"What?" You ask, feeling a little nervous from her reaction.

"You're pregnant...I think...My magic might be off since you haven't told me about any sex recently, which as your best friend, you wouldn't do that to me, would you?" She asks, rambling slightly, you smile softly, loving this side of Wanda. But then you blush, there had been sex recently, and you hadn't told her...

"Well..."

"Well what? Who was it?" She gasps.

"Bucky..." You say, with a coy smile on your lips.

"No. Way." She says a little too loudly. You then tell her everything, but stop..."Wait, Wanda...pregnant?"

"Yes, pregnant...But we'll do a test to be sure" She says, and you feel a little queasy, you nod and let her lead you to the closest bathroom, locking it behind her. She uses her magic to conjure a pregnancy test.... And, you were pregnant... Fuck. You felt the panic starting, but then you thought about Bucky...He was a sweet man, he would step up, he wanted to be with you, right...?

A few days pass and your anxiety doesn't ease up, but you wanted to see Bucky as they arrived back from their mission, you were running a little late as you sped through the building, heading towards the hanger. You could hear how busy it was before you even turned the corner, knowing everyone would come and welcome everyone back from a mission, it was a cute tradition. You whizzed around the corner and stopped dead in your tracks, you saw Bucky. Looking as beautiful as ever.

With another woman hanging off his arm... Oh.

You felt tears burn in your eyes, he looked, strange, not happy. Bucky rarely looked happy. But there he was, with that woman on his arm.

"Cute couple, aren't they?" A voice says from besides you, you turn, seeing someone you hadn't met before. You smile softly as if to answer her questions.

"I uh, didn't know Bucky was dating anyone" You say carefully, wondering if this woman beside you knew anything.

"Oh, he wasn't. But Carla, that's her name, she's had it bad for Bucky for a while, guess he finally caved"

Oh. You took a deep breath and turned around, leaving the hanger without another word... You felt sick to your stomach, here you were, pregnant with Bucky's child and he was in a new relationship. Fuck. You didn't want to mess his life up, couldn't mess his life up. You adored him, loved him so deeply it hurt. No, you wouldn't mess things up for him.

Despite Wanda telling you, that maybe you should speak to Bucky, tell him about the pregnancy, you didn't. You weren't even sure if you were going to keep it yet. It was early days, you hadn't even hit ten week yet. Your brain was full with thoughts and it felt like too much. So first thing you did, was speak to Tony. Originally when you got the promotion, you were supposed to move building, but you loved working in the main Avengers building, and Tony knew that, so he let you have a new office in the Avengers building. But now, feeling lower than ever, you thought it would be best if you did move to the secondary Avengers building.

"I just can't understand why you want to move, kid?" Tony asks, he was concerned about your sudden change in opinion.

"I... I'll be honest with you, Tony... I'm pregnant, and think maybe the other building will be quieter, calmer for me" You explain easily, you didn't like lying to Tony, but it came so easily from your lips. The other building was calmer, the Avengers almost never walked into the doors of the building. So it was perfect. No more seeing Bucky. You'd let him live his life with this new woman, and he'd be happy. Because him being happy, was far more important to you than anything.

And so you move buildings, you say goodbye to your wonderful office with the perfect view over the lake, and move to the secondary building, to a smaller but still okay office. Wanda visits you almost daily, making sure you were looking after yourself, you had decided to keep the baby. The idea of getting rid of it made you feel uncomfortable. And maybe you weren't completely in the right mind, you felt guilty for not telling Bucky...It was silly, how long could you really keep this from him...

As the months went on, the texts and missed calls from Bucky were still coming in strong. He wouldn't stop, but you wouldn't respond. You were so busy with your job, it's not like you wanted to avoid him, but you needed to get things in order before having time off for the baby. Your bump had grown, not much, but it was noticeable you were pregnant, and around the office people got talking, they were all kind about it, they were lovely people to work with, but they weren't your usuals and that upset you. But you carried on, because that's all you had, to carry on, despite your heart breaking for Bucky.

Bucky was confused, sure you didn't speak every day, but suddenly, you dropped off the radar. He knew you were still working for Tony, but no one would tell him where you went. Granted he narrowed it down to only Tony and Wanda knowing, and they were stubborn. His last mission lasted weeks, and each day he thought of you, thinking of that drunken night together. He felt so awkward afterwards, he wanted to take you on a date, spoil you, show you that he loved you so deeply he was sure you were woven within his soul. And when his mission ended and he got home, that stupid woman, Carla? Was it? She was like a predator and he was her prey. For weeks, he had been avoiding her, she would touch him, hold onto his arm, try to stroke his hair. Steve said he should of complained, but he felt bad. He managed to finally shake her off him, he took Steve's advice and told Tony. Well, he got Steve to tell Tony for him. And swiftly, she was fired and escorted off the premises. He felt beyond relief, but then he went to your office... It was empty.

You had disappeared from his life, and he didn't like it. He could handle if you didn't love him back, and why would you? He was a mess, a broken mess of a man. Still screaming from nightmares nearly every night. He wasn't the kind of man you deserved. Bucky sighed heavily as he walked into the canteen, his eyes scanning the room for you, but you weren't there. His heart ached, his missed your smile, that fucking smile, you were so beautiful, a smile that lit up the room, eyes that sparkled. He thought, after that night, maybe he had you, you were finally his. He thought he was an idiot to think so.

Bucky glumly walked into the room, grabbing a tray to fill with food, he didn't mean to listen to the people in front of him. But it was difficult when they were talking so damn loudly, mostly he was trying to ignore it, not finding interest in listening, when he heard your name. It was almost like his ears pricked up like a cats.

"What's this about her?" He asks, saying your name, the sorrow in his tone as he says it. He missed saying your name.

"Oh, she's pregnant..." The person replied, Bucky's eyes widened...Pregnant. You weren't the type of girl to sleep around, he knew that, knew it so deep in his heart, he knew that the baby had to be his. But, why would you keep this from him? He was beyond confused, he dropped the tray, the sound of it echoed through the room, he walked away from the food and walked through the Avengers building until he found Wanda.

"You" He says gruffly, Wanda cocked her head, a little shocked. "Tell me where she is, I know she's pregnant, and fuck, it's mine...Isn't it?"

Wanda sighed, she promised not to tell...But Bucky looked like a man close to insanity. She nodded. "It's yours...She's in the secondary building"

"Fuck" He mutters "I don't have clearance, I can't access it"

Fuck it. Bucky decides, he leaves the building and makes the short walk to the other building, he felt stupid, you were so close the entire time. So fucking close. Yet so far away from him. Once he reaches the door, he uses his metal hand to punch through the keypad, it short circuits and sparks out towards him. He knows Tony would have his balls for that, but right now he didn't care. He walked through the building, not knowing where anything was, but finally found you.

You had decided to have lunch in your office today, you hated the business of the canteen anyways, so you sat at your desk, still working as you idly chewed on your salad of the day. You didn't look up when your office door opened, it wasn't out of the ordinary people coming into your space, you were a busy woman after all.

Bucky stared at you, his eyes wide and a little out of breath. You were so beautiful, you were glowing. He couldn't see your stomach, the desk covered it, but you looked different, he could tell, he had spent the last few years watching you, learning your every feature.

"How could you not tell me?" Bucky says quickly, he hadn't realised the emotions in him were so strong, he felt...angry, upset, slightly betrayed. He had to keep reminding himself that you probably had your reasons, he wouldn't yell, he would let you explain your side of the story...Or maybe, and the thought made him feel sick. Maybe the baby wasn't his...

You looked up, and swallowed the mix of lettuce and cucumber in your mouth. Your eyes were a little wide as they looked at him, he looked more rugged than when you had last saw him. His beard was grown out, a little messy too, and his hair was longer, but fuck, it made him look even prettier. You stared at him for a little longer, not quite having the right words to say to him.

"Doll, it's mine...right? You're pregnant?" He asks quietly, taking a step closer to your desk. You nod, feeling your head bow slightly in shame. The guilt hit you, washing over you heavily.

"Yes..." You say quietly, the word stuttering from your lips. You stand up, revealing your small bump to him. His eyes dart down to your stomach as you walk around your desk, you lean against the desk, still looking up at him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asks, his voice barely as whisper. He felt like he was going to be sick, he felt confused, and like he might cry.

"I...You had your new relationship, I couldn't be the other woman who ruins your life Bucks" You say quietly, your thoughts going back to that day in the hanger.

"New...what? Doll, I...what?" He struggles.

"That woman...Carla? Some woman told me you were together, and I mean I saw you in the hanger, she was all over you" You say quietly.

"Carla? That's why you disappeared on me?" He questions.

"I disappeared for you!" You say, a little more loudly than you had meant. He looked so confused, it broke your heart, you wanted to move forward and hug him, hold him tightly in your arms.

"Why would I ever want you to disappear?" He asks, taking a step closer to you, his arms reach up, moving to your shoulders, gently holding you. "Jeez, I love you"

"You love me?" You ask, shocked at his words, part of you thought maybe you had imagined him saying those words, they had been the centre of your dreams for so long now.

"I thought I was being obvious" He mutters. "Obviously not"

"And you don't want that other woman?" You ask question, blinking up towards him.

"No, she was obsessed with me, but fuck, doll, I'm obsessed with you, you're my girl, always have been my dream girl. I want you, I love you...and..." His words trail off for a moment, his hands stroke down your arms moving until they were on your hips, his fingers moved slightly so they were feather touching your bump. "Fuck, this is real, aint it?"

You nod, feeling tears in your eyes. "Yes, fuck, Bucky I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want to ruin what I thought you had with that woman..."

"No, shh, it's okay doll. I'm not mad at ya'" He whispers, moving his flesh hand over your stomach, holding you little bump carefully.

"I love you too, you know..." You whisper. He smiles widely and moves to press his lips to yours. Kissing you softly as he moves his hands around your waist holding you close to him.

You weren't sure how long you both kissed, but it felt amazing, it was like that missing part of you returned, it felt right being with Bucky. It always had, kissing him was pure heaven. A few kisses more and you pulled away, your eyes sparkling with happiness as you look up at him.

"You know, being pregnant...makes me super horny, wanna help your girl out?" You say, grinning and only feeling a little cringed out by your words.

Bucky's soft smile turns into a smirk, obviously liking the idea, a soft growl leaves his lips. "Well, seeing as you have a new office, we should break it in like we did the last one"

"What a good idea" You grin, moving slightly you hop onto the desk, sitting with your legs dangling. He moves, coming to stand in between your legs, his hands moving up and down on your thighs, stroking you gently.

"My girl, not letting you go now" He mumbles. "Not ever"

"Promise me?" You say quietly, not fully believing him just yet.

"Oh, I promise you sweet girl, you and me, we're endgame, this baby too, we're a family now" He says as his hands move up to caress my bump. Your heart swelled, hearing his words, seeing the way he was looking at you, it all felt too good to be true. Finally, you had him, he was yours.

Slowly you took your time undressing him, as he did undressing you. You made him lock the door, ensuring no one would interrupt you. Finally both naked, you laid back on your desk, looking up at him with a soft grin, you felt a little insecure of your bump, but he soon stopped that feeling, kissing your bump and telling you that you were perfect. His eyes trailed over your naked form, looking you up and down.

"Fuck, you're beautiful...I'm glad I'm sober this time"

"Me too" You agree, shivering slightly at the excitement. He moved slightly, lowering down onto his knees, he peppers kisses down your inner thigh, licking your skin as he moves lower. And finally he presses a kiss to your clit, taking a second to suck the bundle of nerves into his mouth. You moan softly, the sound barely leaving your lips, you hold onto the edge of the desk.

Bucky groaned softly as he looked at you, part of you wanted to cover yourself, his eyes were hungry as they looked at the soft pink flesh in between your legs.

"My girls so perfect" He whispers before finally moving his lips, his tongue dipped between your folds, licking you up hungrily. A soft whine left your lips as his tongue moved expertly from your clit down to your eager, wet hole. Since being pregnant, you had been heightened, and untouched, having Bucky finally touch you, it drove you mad.

"Come for me" He whispers, the vibration of his voice tingling through your body as your body listened to his words, you felt yourself come over his tongue, the release sending shivers through your body. "That's my girl, so good listening to me"

"Bucky" You squeal softly, feeling yourself flush a little red.

"Oh I know baby, you need me, don't ya?" He asks, a cocky grin over his glistering lips as he looks up at you. You nod, and he stand back up, you giggle softly, remembering the last time you were in this position. With one swift movement he thrusts into you, your body was wet and ready for him, sucking him in close until he was fully seated in you.

"So fucking perfect" He groans.

"Kiss me, Bucks" You whisper, he listens pressing his lips to yours, he snakes his metal arm around your lower back, lifting you slightly, you both moan at the movement, his cock pressed harder into you. Slowly he starts thrusting up into you, his cock stretching you out perfectly.

"God. You. Are. Perfect" He groans, with each word he pulls out and thrusts deeper into you.

"Yes...oh.. Bucky!" You moan, feeling your cunt tighten around his thick cock. You hold onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he fucks you.

"That's it, come for me, fuck you're perfect, god I love you" He grunts, his hand tightening on your hip and he speeds his movements up.

"I love you...oh..oh!" You squeal as you come hard, your legs shake around him, as you feel your body release.

"That's my girl...god, you're perfect, carrying my child, so fucking beautiful, I love...Oh....I love you" He grunts, moaning as he starts whimpering, his hips stutter into yours, his moves becoming more sloppy as he finishes deep inside of you. As you both breath heavily, your foreheads connected, Bucky placed you firmly on the desk, his body hovering over yours. Fuck he was tall.

Love you, my girl" He whispers, planting a soft kiss to your lips.

"I'm your girl, fuck I've always been your girl" You whisper. After a while, he helped you with your clothes, and then dressed himself. You sat back down on your office chair and watched as he walked around, sitting on the desk opposite your chair, facing you.

"Can I ask you something, doll?"

"Anything, Bucks"

"Back in my day, we uhh, you know, married gals when..." He says awkwardly, his words trailing off. You laugh breathlessly, he was so cute. "Bucky, darling, it's not the 40s...You don't have to marry me, well maybe eventually, but for now, I'm happy being with you, and having our baby, if you want us both of course"

He shakes his head, laughing. "Of course I want you, you're my girl, we're a family now"

"Yeah we are, and I love you" You say softly, he leans down, kissing your lips before whispering. "And I love you, both of you"

#fluff #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #marvel smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagine

69 notes · View notes

samm1e13 · 2 days ago

Text

Would You Fall In Love With Me Again?

synopsis; no matter what he did, he would always be the kid you knew from crime alley. (UTRH jason todd x fem!reader) wc; 2.5k

cw; angst, happy ending, mention of dismemberment, mentions of violence, brief mentions of stabbing, brief and possibly incorrect descriptions of first aid, heavily based on would you fall in love with me again by jorge rivera-herrans from epic the musical

a/n; this man has been on my mind lately and the song was stuck in my head so this stems from that, enjoy.

don't use, copy or steal my works.

is it you? have my prayers been answered?

is it really you standing there, or am i dreaming once more?

“jason?” the name leaves your lips in shock, you never thought you’d see him again, only in your dreams if you were lucky.

you look different, your eyes look tired.

your frame is lighter, your smile torn.

the man in front of you holds barely any resemblance to the child you once knew. his eyes, although tired, are darker and sharper, a hint of recognition in them. his stature is bigger, muscles filling out his frame and he’s grown taller. there’s a broken smile on his lips and it doesn’t reach his eyes.

is it really you, my love?

jason’s been back from the dead for almost six years now, and he’s been back in gotham for two of them. it’s been a year since he worked his way to the top of the crime syndicate as the red hood and enacted his revenge on bruce.

he would catch glimpses of you throughout that time, not necessarily stalking you, but just wanting to keep an eye out, make sure you were okay. this would be the first time he speaks to you since coming back.

i am not the man you fell in love with.

i am not the man you once adored.

“can i come in?” his voice is deep, it no longer carries that light whimsy tone it did when he was a child. the sound of it both scares and comforts you, he’s grown into a man. but at what cost?

you let him in and lead the way to the kitchen where you nervously begin to make a calming lavender tea.

“i’m dreaming again, aren’t i? there’s no way you’re actually in my kitchen right now.” you mutter while shaking your head as if to force the dream away.

“you’re not dreaming, i’m real.” his voice startles you again, you just stare at his hulking frame as he sits in a chair at your table eyeing the way you flit around nervously.

“if this is real.. if i’m not dreaming, what’s something only you would know?” you’re skeptical, jason realizes, and you have every right to be. the whole of gotham knew he was dead. bruce wayne’s second son, dead in an accident, little did anyone truly know.

i am not your kind and gentle husband.

and i am not the love you knew before.

he scoffs as you sit across from him, two mugs filled with tea sit on the table's surface, one in front of each of you. of course you’d be the one to ask him to prove it. you were never one to take things at face value, perks of growing up in crime alley.

“we had our first kiss behind the giant penny in the bat cave, the night you discovered bruce and i were batman and robin.” he watches your hand flex, fingers tapping an unknown rhythm on the table as you consider his words.

“how old were we?” you fire back, he seems so confident and you want to believe it’s him but you have to be sure.

“i was fifteen, you were a week shy of being fourteen. i died a year later.” you wince at the harsh way he speaks but nod nonetheless.

“how old are you now?” you know he’s aged since he’s bigger now, you just want to know if he’s still a year older than you.

“twenty-two.” his answer confirms that he is.

would you fall in love with me again,

if you knew all i’ve done?

the next hour passes by with him catching you up on everything. how he died, how he came back, what he’s been doing since coming back. you stopped drinking your tea once he mentioned severed heads.

he speaks casually, as if he’s not bothered by any of this, but you know him enough to know when he’s faking, at least you used to. you can detect the hurt and anger hidden behind his words and actions, you were pretty upset yourself when you found out bruce wasn’t going to do anything about the joker. you cried over jason for months.

the things i cannot change,

would you love me all the same?

silence fills the air around you after jason finishes his story, you moved from the table to the balcony halfway through, and now you sit on the couch. your legs are pulled to your chest as you lean against the armrest and peer at jason from lidded eyes.

he sits facing the dark screen of the tv, legs manspread and an arm hooked over the back of the couch, the other rests at his side.

“you know, we never actually broke up.” you mentally facepalm as the words leave your mouth, why in the hell would you say something stupid like that?

your cheeks flame up as jason bursts out laughing, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest that filters throughout his entire body. the couch shakes slightly from the vibrations of his body as he tosses his head back. the sound of his laughter and the sight of him makes you chuckle in turn. you laugh together for a bit until his next sentence has reality crashing in again.

“yeah cause i fucking died y/n.”

“well i’m sorry you’ll have to forgive my heartbroken depressed fifteen year old self for assuming since neither of us said the words ‘i’m breaking up with you’ that meant we were still together even if you were dead.” you grumble and use your hands to showcase air quotes.

“please tell me you haven’t spent the last six years thinking we’re still together.” he’s looking at you now, trying to gauge your reaction while waiting for your response.

“i grew out of that at sixteen, so only a year really. i’ve dated here and there, but most didn’t last long. there was one guy who lasted longer than the rest, but even that fizzled out pretty quick.” you explained with a shrug and watched as the tension left his shoulders, his body sinking into the cushions behind him.

“why didn’t they last?” you tilt your head back to look at your ceiling and inhale deeply at his question.

“i was just too in love with my dead boyfriend to move on with anybody else.”

i know that you’ve been waiting, waiting for love.

it’s been a couple months since the day jason showed up at your door, you talk everyday, whether he calls or texts you. he visits when he can, if he’s not patrolling as red hood. his relationship with bruce is still rocky, but slowly mending. you’ve started visiting the manor again, alfred appreciates your company and the atmosphere you bring with you while you’re there.

your dead boyfriend isn’t so dead anymore, and there’s something unspoken between the two of you now. jason has his own apartment, though you aren’t sure how since he’s still legally dead, bruce is apparently working on rectifying that. despite having his own place, he spends a lot of time at yours, and it only adds to your ever growing confusion.

unbeknownst to you, jason isn’t faring much better. he has trouble sleeping because of the nightmares, but lately when he does sleep, all he can think about is you. you’ve told him time and again that you don’t care what he’s done as a crime lord, that all you care about is the fact that he’s alive and back in your life. he’s paranoid that this is some awful trick his mind is playing on him.

he’s supposed to crash at your place tonight, hopefully he can control himself around you.

would you fall in love with me again,

if you knew all i’ve done?

the things i can’t undo,

i am not the man you knew.

you’re both laying across the couch, your body atop his, legs intertwined with his, and his arms around your waist while you both watch tv. some random horror movie playing that neither of you are really paying attention to, too caught up in your thoughts and each other.

that unspoken something hangs tensely in the air as your head rests on his chest, fingers tracing inconsequential shapes and patterns on his side. his eyes are closed and it heightens the feeling of your body against his.

“so… are we going to talk about it?” your voice breaks him out of his thoughts and he sighs heavily. he knows you’re talking about the unspoken thing that’s wrapped itself around you two like a thick blanket in the cold winter months, but he doesn’t think spring has arrived yet and he’s not quite ready to leave the comfort and safety of the blanket.

“i guess not.” you answer your own question after several minutes of nothing coming from him aside that first heavy sigh. his body tenses as you push yourself off him and stand away from the couch. he sits up once you turn off the tv, eyes finding yours in the dimly lit living room of your apartment.

“i’m sorry.” it’s the first thing he’s said since before the start of the movie and it’s your turn to sigh deeply while your shoulders sag as you stand in front of him.

“it’s fine jay, i’m going to bed.” it’s too early for you to be going to bed and you both know it, but your statement is said with such finality that he doesn’t try to argue. he only sighs as he watches you walk away to your bedroom, before throwing his head back with a heavy groan, knowing he’s sleeping on the couch alone tonight.

i know that you’ve been waiting, waiting,

after that night, jason distances himself. he’s hoping that some time apart will help him get his shit together and figure things out before he loses you completely. bruce, alfred, and dick all think he’s being an idiot, and honestly? he’s starting to think the same.

three months have passed since that night, and jason can count the number of times he’s seen you on both hands. the distance hasn’t done anything other than make him yearn for you more and wish to be by your side.

he doesn’t realize he’s left the comfort of the thick winter blanket until the night he crash lands on your balcony, bleeding out from a stab wound he got while fighting some goons with batman. he knocks only once before you’re pulling open the door and tugging him into your apartment.

“bruce called me when you disappeared after the fight, said you might’ve gotten hurt and to be expecting you.” you explain once you notice his head tilting in confusion. you help him onto the towel covered couch, a first aid kit and a bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table.

he takes off his helmet and the domino mask he had on underneath before letting you help him remove his jacket and pull up his shirt. the stab wound is on the left side of his stomach, no vital organs were hit but he will need stitches.

you work in silence, cleaning up the wound and the area around it with alcohol wipes from the first aid kit before stitching him up and covering them up with bandages. you give him the bottle of whiskey while cleaning up the mess on the coffee table and floor.

a flash of something catches his gaze, his eye zoning in on your throat, his breath hitching as he recognizes what it is. it’s the last thing he stole before bruce took him in when he was eleven, a necklace that he gave you for your tenth birthday. a silver chain holding a pendant the color of his eyes.

‘so that you’ll always have a piece of me close to your heart.’ is what he said when he gave it to you.

“i didn’t know you still had that.” his voice comes out hoarse from lack of use and your eyes flick to him in confusion before following his gaze to the pendant that rests at the bottom of your throat, just above where your heart would be.

“oh yeah, i still have a lot of the things you’ve given me but this one is my favorite.” you replied as you grabbed the pendant in one hand.

a symbol of our love everlasting.

jason knew what he had to do, but he just couldn’t find the words to use. he’s lying in your bed on his back, your head on his chest, body pressed against his injury free side as his arms are encircling you.

he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to being this close to you, his paranoid mind is giving him anxiety, making him think this is just another nightmare.

“how could you possibly care about me still? i’m a murderer, a monster.” the words leave his mouth before he has time to second guess them, your hand stops the tracing of shapes and instead rests palm down on his stomach.

“jay you’re not a monster, you’re a traumatized kid. the same one that saved me from getting bullied back in crime alley, the same kid who would make sure i was fed even if you were also starving. the same kid who brought me along with him after he got adopted by the richest man in the city.” you look up at him now, chin resting on his chest as he tilts his gaze down to meet yours.

i will fall in love with you over and over again,

i don’t care how, where, or when.

no matter how long it’s been, you’re mine,

don’t tell me you’re not the same person.

“no matter what you do, you’re still that same kid i knew from crime alley. my dead boyfriend who i’m just too in love with.”

i’ve been waiting, waiting,

waiting, waiting,

waiting, oh,

for you.

“well i’m not dead anymore.” he chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“yeah but according to you, you’re not my boyfriend anymore either.” you don’t even get the chance to laugh before he’s cupping your chin and pulling you up for a passionate long overdue kiss.

lips connecting with yours roughly as his hand slides to your throat, tongue pushing its way into your mouth. gasping, your body presses against him, hand clutching his side.

he pulls away wincing and you quickly apologize, having forgotten his stab wound. but he merely shakes his head and presses another kiss to your lips.

“you’re still jason todd to me, the kid from crime alley.” you smile resting your head on his chest again.

“i know.” he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“and you wanna know something else?” you start tracing random shapes and patterns again.

“what?” he asks, relaxing his body into yours while sighing happily.

“i love you.”

#angst #jason todd #jason todd x reader #dc x reader #dc comics #red hood #red hood x reader #dc jason todd #jason todd angst #red hood angst #under the red hood #dcu #dc universe

55 notes · View notes

sst4rdst · 12 hours ago

Note

I’m just wondering how yan! Xiao would react to his darling being an escort/entertainer. darling does engage in physical contact with clients and Xiao just has to watch from the window. Does he pick off clients one by one? How does he deal with watching his darling entertain clients from outside the window? Does *he* ever end up requesting his darlings services when all other clients are gone? Just so much to think about!!

warnings : yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, mentions of reader having sex with others but no describing sex scenes. author's note : SORRY FOR THE WAIT NONNIEEEE 😭 my job consumed my soul these last days T.T don't recommend being an adult, 0/10. but i made this one a little longer than usual, hope that's a great apology :']

the first time he sees it, truly sees it, something inside him shatters.

it is one thing to know what you do. to hear it murmured between passing travelers, to catch the lingering traces of perfume on their clothes, to watch the way they return to their inns with a dazed, satiated sort of stupor, as if their time in your company has rendered them whole. he has always known, always suspected, but knowing is different from witnessing.

and now, here he stands, just beyond the glow of your lantern-lit window, the scent of incense curling in the air, thick and cloying, wrapping around his lungs like a suffocating chain. he sees the way you smile, soft and inviting, sees the way your fingers ghost over the wrist of the man before you—no, not a man. a client. one of many.

xiao has slaughtered creatures for lesser sins than the one unfolding before him.

his hands curl into fists at his sides, nails biting into flesh, but the pain is distant, inconsequential compared to the fire searing through his veins. his body is rigid, a silent force of barely restrained violence, watching as you lean in, laughter soft against the shell of another man’s ear.

his stomach twists.

he tells himself this is normal. that this is your job, that there is no affection in the way you let your fingers skim over another’s thigh, no meaning in the way you let them cup your chin, trace the line of your jaw. and yet, his mind betrays him.

does your touch linger like that when you are alone? do your smiles hold the same softness when there is no one to see them? do you ever speak his name in the dark, whisper it like a secret meant for no one but yourself? or is he only ever a shadow, something you will never notice, never choose?

the thought gnaws at him, festers beneath his skin like something diseased.

the rational part of him—small and weak in the face of the hunger clawing at his ribs—knows that this is not something he can change. that you are not his to claim. that you are a free, mortal thing, meant to weave in and out of lives like drifting petals on a breeze, untethered. but xiao has never been good at wanting without taking.

the disappearances are slow at first. a client here, a client there—nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that would immediately raise suspicion. after all, men with loose morals often meet unfortunate ends in liyue’s underbelly, swallowed by debts they cannot repay, by enemies they do not see coming. it is easy for the city to forget them, easy for their absence to be written off as consequence.

xiao does not think of them beyond their final gasps, beyond the moment their bodies collapse into the dirt, empty, discarded. they are nothing. they have always been nothing. but you—you are different.

you still smile when new clients come. you still let them brush their lips over your skin, still let them press coins into your hands, unaware that the man before them is rotting beneath the earth. and he hates you for it.

hates the way you continue as if nothing has changed. hates that he can never be the one you turn to, the one you choose to hold, to whisper to in the dark. hates that, no matter how many bodies he leaves in his wake, you will never belong to him.

but if he cannot have you, then no one else should either.

it happens in the quiet of a late evening, when the streets are empty and the lanterns light flicker weakly against the wind. you are alone. finally, finally, you are alone. no clients, no lingering hands, no laughter that is not meant for him. just you. and him.

he does not enter through the door—he never does. the window is open, curtains shifting with the night breeze, and it is easy for him to slip inside, easy for him to cross the space between you in a breath, a heartbeat, less than that.

you do not flinch when you notice him. you never do. you have grown used to his presence, his silent appearances, his tendency to linger at the edges of your world like a specter you cannot exorcise.

"you're here again," you murmur, voice soft, lacking surprise. your fingers trace the rim of a porcelain cup, half-finished tea still warm within it. "it's late."

he does not answer. he only watches, gaze burning into the curve of your throat, the slope of your shoulders, the places where others have touched, where their fingerprints still linger like something permanent.

you sigh, setting the cup aside, tilting your head slightly. "something's wrong."

he exhales, slow and controlled, as if he has not been unraveling at the seams since the moment he first saw you with another. "i don’t like what you do."

it is not an accusation. it is not even anger. just a fact, laid bare between you.

you blink, quiet for a moment, before a ghost of a smile tugs at your lips. "you don’t have to like it, xiao."

but he does. he does have to like it, because if he doesn’t, if he lets this feeling fester any longer, he knows he will not be able to stop. he will not be able to stop at just a few disappearances. he will not be able to stop at only watching.

your eyes hold something knowing, something almost pitying, and it makes his blood burn, makes his fingers twitch at his sides. but then, you shift, leaning forward slightly, just enough to close the space between you, and for the first time in what feels like forever, your touch is meant for him.

your lips are warm against his, a fleeting thing, a moment so insignificant that it should not matter. and yet, it does. because now, you have touched him. and xiao has never been good at letting go of things he has touched.

xiao’s breath is shallow, barely there, as if the weight of your warmth against his skin has stolen the air from his lungs. he does not move. he does not blink. he does not even think. he only feels. feels the heat seeping into him, feels the sharp, electric buzz beneath his skin, feels the unbearable, suffocating knowing—

that this will never be enough.

your touch is fleeting. it always is. you do not hold onto things the way he does, do not cling to moments as if they are the last lifeline in a raging current. no, you let them slip through your fingers, let them pass without hesitation, without meaning.

just like now. because you release him as easily as you had reached for him, pulling away with a sigh, unaware of what you’ve done, of what you’ve set into motion.

xiao stands there, still as death, his mind blank save for the feeling of your lips against his, the ghost of warmth still lingering on his own. it should be enough—it should be more than enough. but it isn't. it's nothing. a scrap tossed his way out of pity, a meaningless moment that you will forget by morning. but he won’t. he can’t.

his fingers twitch at his sides, aching with the urge to grab, to pull you close, to demand that you understand—that you see him, choose him, the way he has already chosen you. but you only exhale softly, gaze dipping toward the floor, a distant sort of exhaustion clinging to your features. you think this is done. you think this conversation has ended. it hasn't.

because xiao has spent too long on the outside, watching, waiting, enduring—and now that your touch has seared itself into him like a brand, now that the fragile thread of his restraint has finally snapped, he cannot go back to standing in the shadows, to watching you let others touch you, kiss you, take from you what should be his.

his vision blurs, heat licking up the back of his throat, something monstrous stirring in the depths of his chest. it is not jealousy—no, jealousy is too human, too small, too weak. this is something greater, something worse—a hunger that cannot be reasoned with, a possession that has no name.

"you don't understand," he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. it is not a plea, not a request for you to see what he sees. it is a fact. a finality. you don’t understand—because if you did, you would never let others near you. if you knew the depth of what he felt, you would never push him aside so easily, never let your affections be bought like they mean nothing.

but he will make you understand.

your brows knit together, the first flicker of wariness appearing in your gaze. "xiao—"

he moves before you can finish, before you can even think of pulling away. his hand finds your wrist, fingers wrapping around delicate bone with a grip that is not yet bruising, but firm enough that you freeze beneath him. a warning. a promise.

your lips part slightly, the breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, just a moment, something flashes through your expression—something like fear, like realization. and yet, you do not fight him. you should.

you should struggle. you should demand he release you, should shove at his chest, should scream—should beg. but you only look at him, wide-eyed and silent, and the way you do nothing sets something vicious alight in his chest.

because this means you know. somewhere, deep down, some part of you has always known that you belong to him.

that no matter how many men come and go, how many coins exchange hands, how many nights you spend wrapped in the arms of strangers, you were never theirs to claim. that in the end, you have only ever belonged to him.

his grip tightens just slightly, just enough to make your breath hitch, to make your pulse hammer against his fingers. and he leans in, slow, deliberate, until his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, until his voice—low, quiet, certain—spills into your skin like something inescapable.

"you don't have to do this anymore." a statement, not a suggestion. because this is no longer something you get to choose.

"you’re always like this," you murmur, shaking your head. there is no bite in your voice, only something small, something resigned. "i don’t know what you want me to say, xiao. i told you before—this is my job. you don’t have to like it, but it’s not something you can change."

your words should hold finality. they should put an end to whatever this is, should set a boundary between you that cannot be crossed. but they don’t..

he clenches his jaw, forces himself to look at you, to meet your gaze without letting the heat behind his eyes bleed through. "it can change." the words taste foreign on his tongue, heavy and unfamiliar, but the intent beneath them is not.

your lips press together, your expression unreadable. "xiao." his name is softer now, almost warning. but you do not understand. you never do. because xiao has already changed things.

the men who touched you are gone. the ones who whispered promises in your ear, pressed their lips against your skin, left their scent on you like a mark—none of them will return. he has already altered the course of your life without you knowing, has already started reshaping the world around you to fit his own image of what it should be.

and now, standing in front of you, with the lingering heat of your touch still burning against his lips, he knows this is the next step. the only step left.

"you won’t have to do this anymore."

you exhale sharply, shaking your head. "that’s not your decision to make."

"but it is."

you freeze. just for a moment. just long enough for something wary to flicker across your face. and then, you laugh, short and breathless, as if the weight of this conversation has settled over you all at once. "you don’t get to decide that for me."

but the thing is—he does. he already has.

xiao is not a man who asks for things. he does not beg. he does not plead. he does not bargain with the world in hopes that it will grant him something in return. he takes. and he will take this, too.

because he cannot watch any longer. cannot stand beyond the glass, shrouded in shadow, forced to endure the sight of you letting strangers have what should be his. cannot keep swallowing down the sharp, acrid taste of jealousy until it curdles into something deeper, something unrecognizable.

no, he will not let this continue. he will not let you continue. not like this. not when you belong elsewhere. not when you belong with him.

#xiao x reader #yandere xiao x reader #xiao x you #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #yandere x you #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere #genshin #˗ˏˋ꒰ writing ꒱

44 notes · View notes

grudgecollector · 14 hours ago

Note

hii queen! i saw that your requests are open, could you write something with daryl and a reader in the earlier seasons who are dating in secret? (they dont want no one to know because daryl is new to relationships and i believe he would be more reserved a little in the beggining), however the group ended up noticing how soft he is to her and how he always keep an eye on her😩 and also i just wanted to say that i read some of yours writtings and they are amazing💕💕

Gimme Shelter | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Tags: Swearing, twd typical violence, kind of slow burn, fluff, lightish angst, half proof-read

Words: 4.4k

A/N: Fank you so much nonny 💖😭 I've been really enjoying writing for Daryl, he was one of my biggest obsessions as a teenager, and that obsession will continue to prevail.

And this is such a cute request, I love secret relationship tropes so much. I decided to do Prison era!Daryl if that's okay, I assume you probably meant for like season 1 or 2, but I felt like it would be cute in the prison.

I know that a slow burn wasn't requested BUT the thoughts just kept coming the more I wrote. Also sorry this took so long to post.

Growing up people would always say you will find the one when you least expect it. Whether it’s in a grocery store, at the park, in a museum. That one person you’re bound to spend the rest of your life with will be there. As if they were waiting for you, and you for them. It was a fairytale dream, one that you lost faith in long ago.

There were moments you had thought that maybe you finally found that person. Until disappointment would strike time and time again. Your experience with relationships had been less than ideal, never lasting longer than a year. Cheaters, liars, and worst of all abusers. Those types of men had always been the most drawn to you. Making you feel as if you were cursed somehow, unlucky.

After a while and a slew of pity attempts, you gave up on dating for your own benefit. Deciding it would be best to focus more on yourself. Not allowing yourself to succumb to the societal pressure of getting married by twenty and popping kids out by twenty one.

That was the dream of a delusional small town teenager, too young to think for themselves let alone plan a future family, and that had been your dream once upon a time. Maybe you read too many stories about young girls finding their prince charming and living happily ever after.

You started to value your alone time. Enjoying the feeling of not having to walk on eggshells in order to keep the other party happy. Things were smooth sailing for about two years. You changed your life around, got a new job, a new car, and a new apartment all within a few months.

A newfound happiness was settling inside of you, you were beginning to find yourself again. You became more confident in who you were as a person, allowing yourself to actually live your life instead of just simply being alive.

But life had a twisted sense of humor.

Things started with frantic breaking news segments on the news. Reporters talking about the horrifying developments coming out of France. In the beginning you had hoped that things wouldn’t escalate past that, hoped that this would be an isolated incident. But things just got worse the more you watched. An unknown virus wreaking havoc across the entirety of Europe, spreading like wildfire across each country.

After the first case of the virus was reported in Ohio, you started to worry. Things were getting too close for your liking, and with the details they were releasing it wasn’t going to get any better. With each new segment that aired your mother would call, urgently telling you to come back to live with them until this sickness blows over. You knew that it would be your best bet.

Once the local grocery stores started getting raided, you found yourself being thankful that your family was full of survivalist nuts. Growing up hearing them praise people like Jim Baker, and other televangelist hackjobs like him that weaponized fear mongering for profit.

Your parents home was stocked full of all the essentials thanks to your aunt Jess. First aid kits, canned food, water to last just a little over a month. It was everything you needed and more.

“Y’always gotta be prepared, honey.” Your wine-drunk aunt had told you after a week, the both of you lounging on the sofa as you watched the news. “You don’t know how long this crap’s gonna last.”

It all went by so quickly. The news stations eventually stopped airing not long after the first report hit Georgia, they were urging everyone to evacuate to Atlanta, leaving the streets a mess of honking and dead-stop traffic right outside of your parent’s home.

And for a short while you had settled into this false hope that you were safe there with them.

That was until you came back from a short trip to a ransacked Dollar General just down the street.

The house was oddly quiet when you walked inside. The TV was muted on a flickering static screen, your dad’s recliner was empty, a blanket on the floor. The backdoor that led to the porch was ajar, the sun shining through the crack onto the wood flooring. You remembered that feeling in your stomach as you walked closer, fingers slowly curling around the doorknob.

When you walked outside it felt as if a bucket of ice water was dumped over your head. The horrifying sight of your mother’s body being gutted by your own father and uncle, fresh blood dripped down the side of the RV next to your aunt’s already mangled corpse. Your hands were trembling fiercely, a nauseating coppery smell filling your nose.

All you could remember was running. Packing whatever you could get your hands on before taking your mother’s minivan.

Not long after the death of your family, you were taken in by a small group of five. They were unstable, barely hanging on by a thread, with almost nightly arguments tilting them further over the edge.

It made things harder for you. The tension starting to make you too nervous to sleep without a knife tucked securely under your pillow.

The self appointed leader demanded too much, wanting more than half of the rations to himself. He was a cruel hearted individual, mind diluted by the atrocities you were all forced to witness. A dangerous man who was quick tempered, and ruthless to anything or anybody you came across.

After a month of running with them you made a mistake. You hid a portion of your findings from him. Food that he would have taken the majority of. But you were starving, at the point of hardly caring about your survival if it meant you could eat just a little bit more.

Other members had found out though, outing you quickly. As a punishment he tied you up, stole everything from you. Photo albums, your weapons, your food, bandages, it didn’t matter what it was. After beating you he left you in the supply closet of a convenient store you were temporarily camping out in.

Part of you half expected them to come back, but you knew better than to think positively now, that could get you killed nowadays.

The minutes blended into hours into what felt like days. The zip ties around your wrists and ankles dug harshly into your skin, biting into the raw bleeding flesh as you struggled to free yourself. Eventually it got to the point where you started slipping in and out of consciousness, your body exhausted and dehydrated. You were sure you would die there.

But, much to your surprise, your luck hadn’t run dry just yet.

In your haze you could hear the sound of once shuffling corpses hit against the door with a heavy thud. Hushed voices barely graced your ears through the door, two men talking to each other.

Your voice was hoarse as you pathetically attempted to call out. Your throat was dry from the lack of water, forcing your words to come out as a croaking squeak.

The door had been opened cautiously, the beam of a flashlight assaulting your eyes. You attempted to focus on the man crouching down above you, his blurred features obscured by the baseball hat he wore.

“Rick!” The man called over his shoulder, another figure coming into view. He was wearing what seemed to be a police officer’s uniform. Whether it was stolen or actually his, you didn’t care, you just wanted out of this damn closet.

Both men were quick to cut your binds and hauled you to your feet. The quick motion was all it took for you to finally pass out. A thick blanket of exhaustion pressed into you, forcing your eyes to flutter closed and your body to go completely limp. Unable to cling onto consciousness any longer

In those last moments you almost thought that they would just leave you there. Not wanting to bother helping a now passed out stranger, and you wouldn’t have blamed them if they did abandon you.

Instead when you woke up you were laying on a couch, an older man with short white hair standing over you.

At first you had almost believed you dreamed it all, the outbreak, the group. That you were in some sort of comatose state and the world was not overrun by flesh eating monsters. But the stinging pain deep within your wrists proved otherwise, the gashes covered by white gauze and medical tape.

The white haired man, Hershel, ran you through your current state. Malnourishment, dehydration, feverish temperatures. It was evidently clear that you had been through the wringer, and if Glenn and Rick had not found you when they did, you would have died within the day. In fact he had said it was a miracle that Hershel himself could have saved you.

You figured you had always been stubborn, though, you never gave up easily.

Hershel had been kind enough to allow you to stay in his house until you got better. Providing you with enough water and food to get you back on your feet.

The family allowed you to use their shower. When you looked at yourself in the mirror you understood why they were so insistent. A thick layer of grime and blood coated your skin, your hair was matted, your clothes ripped beyond repair.

You couldn’t help but cry, realizing just how quickly you lost yourself out there. Your humanity has faded so much in such a short amount of time, leaving you a hollow shell of your former self. You looked like a stranger to yourself.

Over the next week Rick’s group urged you to stay. They knew you had nowhere else to go, no family to run back to.

You were hesitant, though. You didn’t want to continue to be a burden, you were a stranger infiltrating an already close knit group. The closeness they had made you feel even more lonely than you did in your previous group, because at least when it came to them, you didn’t crave that companionship.

Gone were the days of blind trust, knowing that everything always came with a price these days. So your knife stayed tucked beneath your pillow, fingers clutching onto the handle as you kept an eye on the zipped up entrance of the tent.

On many sleepless nights, which were frequent, you would sit yourself in front of the dwindling fire outside of your tent. Mind wandering to everything that’s happened to you in the past three months, the things you’ve done to stay alive, the permanent scars you would carry with you for life.

You stewed in your bitterness. Chewing ruthlessly on the skin around your fingernails.

Your tent was further away from the rest of the group’s, tucked away in your own area. You found yourself watching the rest of them at first. Thoughts of running away while everyone slept crossed your mind more times than you could count.

Until one night you heard a twig snap behind you, your knife quickly unsheathed and pointing towards what you thought to be a threat,

“Geez. You’re almost as bad as Daryl.” One of the older men from Rick’s group, Dale, chuckled as he walked closer to your secluded camp, his hands up in surrender. “But I can go if you want.” He smiled softly.

“Sorry… Bad habit.” You said quietly, setting your knife back down next to your thigh.

He shook his head, taking a seat in front of the fire, “No need to be sorry. I can’t blame you for still being a little paranoid.”

Dale quickly became a source of comfort for you, sporting an almost fatherly personality when talking to you. He was kind, and realistic which was exactly what you needed after everything you’ve been through. Over the course of a few nightly visits he was able to get you to open up a little, telling him about your former group, he was sympathetic and understanding.

“The world has truly gone to hell.” He grimaced, taking his bucket hat off of his head. “But, we have good people here. Believe it or not.” His smile was reassuring.

After a few days you started to come around more. Helping the women with laundry, listening to the stories they told about their lives before, anecdotes to keep themselves sane.

It wasn’t hard to understand why they were so close. The tragedy of their former camp just outside of Atlanta, the C.D.C, Lori’s son getting shot, the people they’ve lost along the way.

Slowly you felt more like yourself again.

Every so often they would mention that same name Dale did, Daryl. The only member of the group you had yet to meet personally.

You had seen him walking around the camp, or tucked away in his own tent, further away from the group much like yours was. He was gruff looking, intimidating to the eye, and his occasional temper didn’t help much. But with how insistent he was on finding Carol’s missing daughter, you could tell there was warmth beneath his rigid exterior.

The first time you talked to him was less than ideal. You were attempting to set up a snare trap in the woods, wanting to try and contribute a little bit more. The frustration quickly turned to embarrassment when he snuck up on you. Your feet got caught in your own trap and caused you to trip and fall.

“Looks like y’caught somethin’.” Daryl attempted to joke, walking past you and deeper into the woods with his crossbow pointed towards the trees.

You cut yourself free of the poorly made snare and ran to catch up with him. Choosing your words carefully.

“Daryl, right?” All you got was a grumble in response, “Listen I know you don’t know me or anythin’... But could you teach me how to hunt?”

“Teach yourself. I ain’t got time for babysittin’.” His response stung a little, harsher than you had hoped it would be.

You figured you should have expected that, though, the conversation him and Shane had this morning was heated. An argument almost leading to a full on fight. The tension was growing higher and higher as the days dragged on with no signs of Sophia.

Then the group found out about what was inside the barn.

One day when Rick was out helping Hershel, Shane took it upon himself to break the chains on the barn door. Walker after walker spilled out, being shot down ruthlessly by some members of Rick’s group, while the Greene family cried out for them to stop. Their worst nightmare coming true, as well as Carol’s.

A little girl limped out, skin grey and beginning to rot. Her hair was matted with leaves, eyes a milky grey color, and a rasping snarl emitting from her. There was a large gash on her shoulder, a bite. It was devastating to see a child fall victim to such a death. But even more so for Carol, coming to realize that each day they restlessly searched, she had already been dead..

The safety that the farm provided didn’t last long after that.

Shane was quickly losing his grip, Dale was killed by a lone walker, and eventually the fields were overrun by walkers. A massive hoard stumbling onto the property, drawn in by the frequent gunfire.

You had lost quite a few on that night, good people that had helped you come out of your shell, people that didn’t deserve what they got. In all honesty you didn’t think you would have made it out either if it wasn’t for Andrea and Daryl.

After the fall of the farm, you were all lost. Hershel and his family had lost their home, and the entire group was left to search.

But you had to bury your sadness for the time being, winter was quickly approaching. The leaves were changing into a crisp orange color, and the wind had a bite to it in the mornings, leaving you shivering as you huddled closer to the fire. Daryl had been kind enough to let you borrow his poncho some nights, insisting you probably needed it more than him.

Daryl seemed to warm up to you after a while too. He would subtly make sure you ate by leaving a half eaten can of vegetables next to you, or would occasionally sharpen your knife for you after doing his own. It was a kind gesture, letting you know that he was starting to trust you.

Eventually it got to the point where your group finally ran out of canned food. There were no stores around, and everyone was too cold or tired to go anywhere. So Daryl decided to take you out to the woods, finally going out of his way to teach you how to hunt.

“Y’know what you’re trackin’?” He asked one day, slowly walking beside you, following a small winding trail in the woods.

You were quiet for a second, thinking as you analyzed the tracks next to your feet, “Could be a deer, whatever it is, it’s got hooves.”

“Obviously.” He huffed, resisting the urge to smile when you glared at him.

“Shut the hell up, man.” A small sigh came from you, “Could be a hog.” You crouched down and moved the leaves out of the way to get a better look, “The prints are close together, if it were a deer they’d be further apart, right?”

Daryl just shrugged, “You tell me.”

That’s how your hunts would usually go, Daryl providing frustrating nonanswers as you attempted to close in on your prey. He wasn’t going to babysit you, as he had originally said when you first asked, you had to figure it out yourself. You knew that was the only way you’d be able to learn, even if it was mildly annoying.

The winter finally started to melt into spring, temperatures rising and falling occasionally until settling into an in between. And soon enough your restless searching came to an end, the high chain link fences surrounding a prison with walkers meandering the expansive field calling your names. A soon to be shelter for your group and many others.

The fight against Woodbury had been a painful ordeal, with Maggie and Glenn getting taken hostage, and Daryl leaving with his brother. The group was briefly left in shambles, hanging on by a thread as Rick slowly faded away, losing his way after Lori’s untimely death and the birth of her daughter.

When Daryl left it broke your heart a little. The two of you had bonded over the course of the harsh winter, often seeking each other out as a heat source. Whispering stories of your families filling the silence as the biting wind wrapped itself around you. But you could never blame him for leaving, knowing you would do the same thing if you could.

The first attack from the Governor was when Daryl finally returned, his mouthy brother in tow. They had rescued Rick on the outskirts of the fence, luckily finding him just in time before he was overpowered.

It made you happy to see your friend again, a hand squeezing his shoulder before pulling him into a hug. It had been a lot less awkward than you expected, his arms wrapping around your middle and squeezing softly, reassuring you that he was okay.

“Well, ain’t that just cute.” Merle had teased, pinching his little brother on the cheek.

But the tragedies were never ending, your group seemed to constantly be one step away from death’s doorstep.

The Governor decided to make his way back to the prison, armed gunmen following behind him.

They wanted to execute every last one of you no matter what it took. Your group had laid out traps, pretending to have left as requested, lulling them in with a false hope that you were gone. Until the shrill sound of the prison sirens started, smoke grenades being thrown down at their feet in the darkened hallways.

The armed militia of men, mothers, and teenagers the Governor recruited had run away in fear, knowing that their fates would be sealed if they stayed any longer.

As the weeks continued after the attack, things started to look up. That once forgotten positivity slowly makes its way back into your heart, along with a smile as you allow yourself to get to know the former residence of Woodbury. Your community was slowly forming, a home being made out of the prison.

It was easy to become comfortable.

And as your fondness grew for Daryl, you remembered what your mother used to tell you.

“You will find the one when you least expect it.”

Who knew that the world had to end in order for you to find him. With every soft touch, lingering whisper, and a quick stolen kiss in the shadows of your cell, it grew increasingly more obvious that your mother may have been right.

Daryl was the only person you felt safe enough to be vulnerable around. His gentleness towards you breaking down the walls around your heart, settling himself deep within it. And you gladly let him. You both decided to keep your relationship a secret. Enjoying the thrill of sneaking around, while also avoiding any teasing remarks that would come from your group.

You knew that this was Daryl’s first serious relationship, so you wanted to allow him the grace of warming up to the idea. You wanted him to become more comfortable with himself, taking his time with you, soothing any anxious wandering thought he may have.

But you knew that the group would notice eventually. Hell, they already were. The small teasing remarks being thrown your way would make Daryl stiffen. He would pick at the strings on his denim jacket as he huffed and grumbled something in response.

“You want me to slip her a note or somethin’?” Carol teased him, nudging her elbow into his side, “Do you like me? Check yes or no.” She laughed quietly when he rolled his eyes, “Come on Daryl-”

She was cut off by someone running up to him, Glenn’s frantic eyes meeting Daryl and Carol’s before quickly sputtering out your name, “I don’t know what happened but-”

The poor boy could barely get the words out before Daryl ran off towards the cell block.

You were laying in your cell, blood covering your shirt as your side bled profusely. Hershel was quick to try and stop the bleeding, urging everyone to give him room to work.

“If you want her to live, get out, now!”

The blood drained from Daryl’s face as he looked at you. Bruises were beginning to bloom on your face and arms, your nose was bleeding and there was a slash on your cheek. Your boyfriend directed his anger towards one of the new members you had taken on a run, pinning him roughly against the concrete wall with his forearm.

“The hell happened out there?! Huh?!” Daryl shouted in the scared man’s face, shrinking in on himself as Rick and Maggie tried to pull Daryl off. “Talk!”

“We-” The man gulped, “We got attacked by a small group…” There were tears in his eyes as he tried to explain, his swollen lip trembling. He didn’t look much better than you did honestly, his eye was almost swollen shut, and there was blood coating his hairline, “She said- said she knew them, some group she was with. I thought they were gonna k-kill us.” He swallowed harshly, “They shot her…”

Daryl swore he could see red. His shoulders heaving as he started to pace, fingers running through his hair as he tried to process what the man had said. His face was hot, body pulsing with anger as he glanced back into your cell to see you lying there motionless.

He stalked back up towards the man, his gaze hard and threatening as he spoke in a gruff voice, “If she dies, her blood is on your hands.” He pressed his finger hard into the man’s chest, pushing him harshly back into the concrete wall before stalking towards the exit of the prison.

It took the entire council to talk Daryl out of hunting this group down himself. Carol telling him it was a suicide mission, and he would die if he left like this. Going into a situation blinded by rage was never good for anyone, especially now, with you lying unconscious in your cell.

Luckily for you the bullet went straight through, and all they had to do was wait for you to wake up.

Daryl didn’t dare leave your side, a rag gently dabbing across your forehead as he whispered softly to you. Unspoken words that he had wished he had told you sooner, words that only you were allowed to hear him say, something he had never dared utter to another person. Not even his own family.

“I love you.”

The time seemed to drag on slowly as he waited, his watchful not leaving you for more than a few seconds. His gentle fingers traced patterns on your skin, ignoring the occasional staring that would come from someone passing by your cell. He couldn’t bring himself to care about the secrecy, not now.

“That fuckin’ tickles.” He suddenly heard you rasp, your eyes fluttering open and glancing down at his fingers on your forearm.

Relief washed over Daryl like cool rain on a hot summer's day. His shoulders sagged and he couldn’t help but lean his head down to rest on your arm, a long sigh being released from his lungs.

“Daryl…” You whispered, making him look at you, “It was my old group.”

The look on your face was similar to the one you sported when they first found you, terrified, lost, confused. You didn’t know what to do with yourself knowing that not only were they still alive, but a lot closer than you would have liked.

“I know.” He replied, his hand holding onto yours, “You don’t have t’worry about that right now.”

Even though you were able to find happiness in the apocalypse, tragedy never ceased to sneak up from behind every corner. And you guessed that it had become easy to forget that life had a cruel sense of humor.

It always would.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon reader insert #twd reader insert #twd x you #twd x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead reader insert #violet speaks #twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon

45 notes · View notes