#to the many who don’t get asks or comments or interaction outside of likes
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Could be out o pocket but there seems to be a wall perceived by many readers between them and the creator. May be related to our general mythologizing of content creators but that’s a whole separate discussion (a lot of it stems from the mythos of “genius” and if you want a damn good read, try Linda Nochlin’s “Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?”. It’s related I swear lol she deconstructs many ideas around creativity and talent and genius and was one of the earlier ones to do it. V thankful to Aesthetics class for introducing me to her). There could also be some touches of the idea that a certain type of productivity is the only valuable thing a person can do, which narrows the concept of creativity (ironic lol). I had typed out a lot more but I think it’s time I digress 🤡
You are not unworthy of talking to creators you admire. Or people you admire for that matter. Sure the effect may vary - one who is used to droves of interaction will cherish your specific interaction in different ways from someone who almost never receives it, but whether it’s a brief joy to a large creator or the thing that keeps a small creator going, it is valuable.
A last note is I do also understand the feeling that you interacting with anyone is a bother to them and having social anxiety cripple even your online interactions. I’m often lost in that sauce lol it can be especially difficult if you’ve been called a burden explicitly, talked over and ignored, or have a history of feeling as if your social interactions “fail”. Finding the level that is just outside of that comfort zone can both help you and give that little extra bit to the creator. Maybe you have to do it on anon. Maybe you can only add comments in tags. Both of those are still much more encouraging to creators than a like because it’s more human - it reminds you that there is an actual person enjoying something you made and that they actually have -thoughts- about it. The thoughts are especially good - there’s almost nothing a creator loves more than knowing that their creation actually lived in someone else’s head, if even for a time. If your creations only live in your own then it can quickly feel like what is the point of -making- them when it’s so much easier to just think about them.
Long story short - the creator you enjoy likely wants to connect to you as you want to connect to them and any time you find yourself able, please do
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Everytime I see posts like this I get filled with such profound sadness
Cause you know who has the same brainrot as you? The same unhinged feelings as you after you've read the fic? The person who always wants to scream about the fic with you?
THE PERSON WHO WROTE IT
I never used to leave comments but since I got into the habit of commenting on everything i enjoy it's been incredible. Especially when the author gets back to me about it and we get to have a discussion of what other ideas they had. One writer replied to my comment with a 5 paragraph essay detailing the Floorplan of the building the characters lived in and it was incredible
Anyways this is all to say that if you find a fic that just makes you want to scream from the rooftops, leave a comment saying that to the author and maybe they will join you and you can scream incoherently together
#beating myself over the head with this too#im sorry to all the creators I have been terrible about consuming so I’ve been terrible at supporting 😞#to all the writers with the strength to keep clickin without the support#that shit hard as fuck boi#to the many who don’t get asks or comments or interaction outside of likes#I hope we all find your work well before you give up#reminder to self that importance of me being active is to others#gotta stop fuckin it up lol there are ppl who need love 😤#to those who see it happening but not to them#to those too scared to continually promote themselves#reminder to myself and others that while likes feel flippant it is still someone enjoying your work
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“teacher’s pet” (mdni 18+)
teacher!in-ho x you
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when in-ho’s wife tragically passed, he found comfort in a certain student in his class. how far was he willing to go with a student?
✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙
in-ho had a perfect life. stable job, great friends and a loving wife.
he loved his wife unconditionally, they had the perfect relationship. they rarely argued, and the sex was amazing.
but his life came crumbling when he received a phone call from the hospital. his wife had gotten into a car accident.
in-ho was lost after that, for a few months he stepped down from teaching. he spent his time trying to find his happiness again. it was hard, he was stricken with grief, he thought there was nothing else for him in life.
eventually in-ho felt like he should get off his ass and do something.
he met with the principal of the school he was teaching at, wanting to get back.
he thought of it like a distraction, just something he could look forward to in the daytime.
✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙
it was the first day of school, students were pushing and shoving to get to class.
you entered the classroom with your friends, seeing a new, unfamiliar teacher at the front of the classroom, taking your seat at the back.
“good morning class, my name is mr in-ho, i’ll be your new math teacher this semester.” the teacher announced as he turned to face the students.
“hey, he’s pretty hot.” you turned to look at your friend with your mouth hung wide open, slapping her on the arm as you both laughed.
lesson went on as per normal that first day, mr in-ho spent the hour introducing himself and getting to know everyone.
as the bell rang, signalling the end of class, everyone packed their bags frantically.
“that’s all, i’ll see everyone tomorrow.” mr in-ho said.
as the students got up to leave, a loud thud was heard from the front of the classroom.
“get up, nerd.” you heard.
you sighed, walking towards the girl who had been tripped by another student, helping her up as you glared at her bully.
“fuck off, what do you want?” you asked, taking a protective stand in front of the poor girl.
the bully said nothing, simply turning on his heel and leaving.
by now, all the students had left, leaving you, the girl, and mr in-ho behind.
“t-thank you.” the girl said, bowing her head as you frowned.
“you don’t have to thank me. he shouldn’t be doing that… are you okay?” you asked.
she then nodded, giving you an awkward smile as you scurried off.
“hey, what’s your name?” you heard a voice call out from behind you.
“oh, i didn’t realise you were still here.” you replied, seeing the new teacher behind his desk, packing his bag. “i’m y/n. y/n l/n.”
“that’s pretty.” he commented, offering you a small smile.
“thank you.” you blushed.
“that was really kind, what you did there.”
“oh, yeah, he has been really mean to many students. poor girl just didn’t have anyone looking out for her.”
“you’re a good girl, y/n.”
oh.
“t-thank you?” you chuckled nervously.
“what’s your next class? maybe i could walk you there.” mr in-ho said as the two of you stepped outside into the hallway.
“english. but i think i’ll be the one leading you.” you joked, causing him to let out a laugh.
✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙
that night, in-ho went home feeling better than he had been the past few months. he felt like he had really connected with his new students.
they were so kind, so gentle, so sweet…
no, you were.
you were so kind, so gentle, so sweet.
the interaction he had with you kept replaying in his mind, he couldn’t think about anything or anyone else.
you reminded him of someone he used to know, and that fueled him.
the next day, he went to class as per usual. however, he didn’t take your class until noon, which meant he had to wait patiently for your class.
by 11am, he got pretty bored he had to admit. in-ho felt like he was just going through the motions, teaching the different batches of students that came in one after another.
however, when the clock striked 12, oh he was excited.
what he was excited about? he didn’t know.
he then heard a familiar laugh echoing through the halls. he turned to the door, waiting expectantly for you to come through.
the door flew open, revealing not only you to his dismay, but your group of friends surrounding you. he couldn’t make out what you were laughing about but he was incredibly intrigued.
“good afternoon.” you said cheerfully as you gave him a small wave before you took your seat.
in-ho felt a wave of flush run through him, he cleared his throat and ruffled his hair. “good afternoon, y/n.”
“oo, someone already made a move before the rest of us.” your friend teased, nudging your elbow playfully as you rolled your eyes.
time passed quickly as in-ho taught his first lesson to your class. he had found himself stealing tiny glances of you as he walked around, trying his hardest to not make it obvious.
his heart was beating so quickly he thought he could pass out.
maybe he was being delusional, or maybe even hallucinating, but he swore at times when he stole glances, you were already staring. and that made him nearly choke on his words multiple times.
after class, he stayed behind again, hoping that you would somehow approach him, striking up a conversation.
but you didn’t.
someone did approach him, but it wasn’t you. it was your friend.
“so… where did you teach before this? do you like it here? how is it like teaching our class?” she bombarded him with questions.
you took it as a sign to leave.
as you walked out, you turned for one last look. but to your surprise, you were met with the eyes of mr in-ho, as soon as he had been caught, he looked away, pretending to be interested in the conversation.
“see you tomorrow, mr in-ho.” you called out. but before he had the chance to reply, you had left.
somehow, you felt jealous. jealous that he was talking to someone like you first did. but why did it matter? he was just your teacher afterall.
✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙
that night as he got home, in-ho dropped all his things. he practically ripped open his shirt and unbuckled his pants as fast as he could.
god, he couldn’t get you out of his mind.
he thought of your soft voice and your innocent face as he started to stroke himself.
‘fuck.’ he cursed as he started to go faster, his mind racing with images of your face.
he could almost hear your voice calling his name again. he replayed your laughter over and over again like a broken record.
in-ho went to sleep that night with you and only you on his mind. he knew he was fucked.
✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙
weeks went by and in-ho found himself getting bolder and bolder.
within a month, he moved on to not so subtle touches.
as he paced around the classroom teaching, he took your seat at the back of the classroom to his advantage. he tested waters initially, brushing against your arm as he walked by.
when you seemed okay with it, he tried to deepen the contact.
he would place a hand on your shoulder as he passed you. when you didn’t move away or seemed uncomfortable, he knew he hit the jackpot.
his touch started to linger for longer than it needed to. somehow he craved touching you more and more.
what made him more desperate was the fact that he could smell your perfume whenever he walked anywhere near you.
it messed with his head in the best way possible.
furthermore, he started to notice how his actions took a toll on you. whenever he gently touched your shoulder, you would draw your legs together. was he really turning you on?
if he had happened to see you in the hallways, he would call you by name, greeting you, even starting small conversations.
he loved how everytime he did so, you light blush would creep onto your cheeks and you would struggle to meet his gaze, looking anywhere but into his eyes.
if this continued, he didn’t know how much he could take. all the cock-teasing, the small interactions.
he wanted more.
✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙
( bungee jumping off their own - 2001 )
#frontman#frontman x reader#frontman x you#hwang inho#inho x reader#inho x you#lee byun hun x reader#lee byun hun x you#squid game#squidgame season 2#hwang inho x you#hwang inho x reader#lee byung hun x you#lee byung hun x reader#lee byung hun
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inked.
a/n: hey y'all! this is my first fic on this account. just a fun little jj one shot - lmk what you think!! (gif not mine - credits to the creator)
pairing: jj maybank x reader
summary: you and jj have been dating secretly for half a year, and a small question about a mysterious new tattoo leads to his friends finding out about the two of you.
word count: 2.8k
warnings: fluff/humor, marijuana use, implied sexual content, I think that's it
JJ’s not the greatest at dates, and he’s aware of that. But when it comes to you, he’s decided to step up his game, and that’s why he took the initiative to take you to Charleston for your birthday. While he currently can’t afford to spring for an elaborate dinner at a pricey restaurant, he’s trying to make tonight something special. Usually, you’re the one who has to pick up the slack when it comes to romance—though you’re not great at it either—but he figured that since it’s your birthday, all the planning should be his responsibility.
And so far it’s been great.
Walking hand-in-hand down the cobblestone streets of Charleston, you can feel how much freer JJ is when he can take you out somewhere people won’t recognize you. It’s been hard keeping such a big part of his life a secret from his friends for so long, but he doesn’t want to push it too far. You’re what he calls ‘kook-like,’ since you’re from Figure Eight but you went to the local public school instead. And while you never really interacted back in high school, JJ doesn’t want to have to explain to his friends everything about your relationship. It’s private, and though he knows he’ll confide in the Pogues at some point, he’s just not there yet. And thankfully, it doesn’t seem to bother you.
It’s been silent for a while, but not uncomfortable. You just enjoyed a delicious meal that JJ had to fight with you to pay the bill over, and you feel calm. Peaceful. Outside of the Outer Banks, there are no kooks and no pogues, just the two of you.
Choosing to break the silence, you voice your inner thoughts. “It’s nice to not have to worry about running into people we know, you know?”
JJ nods. “Yeah, it’s nice to know that I can kiss you without being afraid of being punched by Topper,” he teases.
You chuckle at his comment before pulling him to a stop. “You said you’d never bring it up!”
“Hey, he’s your ex-boyfriend,” JJ retorts, pointing at your chest.
“Hardly. We dated for two weeks when I was fourteen. And it’s still my greatest shame.”
“I thought I was your greatest shame.”
You roll your eyes, knowing he’s joking. “Never.” As he leans in to kiss you, you can swear that you’ve never felt lighter. You’re a bit tipsy from the drinks at dinner and JJ has a sparkle in his eyes that’ll never stop making you smile.
His lips press to yours, and you swear you know what the romantic comedies mean when they talk about fireworks. It’s nothing too heated—you’re standing on a sidewalk and you’re not that crazy—but it’s special and passionate. Your lips are a perfect fit for one another, and if you don’t pull away soon you know you’ll get swept up in it.
Knowing JJ has other plans for the two of you, you break away from the kiss and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Alright, so what’s next on the agenda, Jayj?”
And that’s when you spot it—the signature twinkle in his eye that only shines when he has something a little bit crazy planned.
“Oh no…” you protest in preparation for whatever’s about to come out of his mouth.
“Okay, it’s just a crazy idea I had and it’s totally up to you. We don’t have to do it, but I think it would be fun.”
“What?” you ask. He unwraps your hands from his shoulders before grasping one of them in his own again, and starts to guide you down the street. “JJ, where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.” He winks, and at that point you decide to just let him lead you wherever. You know he’d never put you in danger, and he’s safely gotten you out of your comfort zone many times before, so you’re sure that it can’t be too bad. Right?
As the two of you walk down the street hand-in-hand, your mind wanders. You’ve accepted your fate, but where could JJ possibly be taking you? And before your mind settles on a single answer, he pulls you to a stop in front of a little brick-walled building. ‘Inks Tattoo Parlor,’ the sign reads.
“Okay, I know it might be a crazy JJ idea,” he starts.
“I’m glad you’re self-aware,” you retort.
He rolls his eyes. “Just hear me out. I know we haven’t been dating for long and maybe I had too many drinks at dinner but I know you’re it for me. We’re young and I know we haven’t talked about marriage and I know we’re nowhere near there yet��”
“JJ, just breathe,” you say to comfort him, squeezing his hand in reassurance.
“Well, basically, I love you. Like a lot. Like more than I ever thought I could, and I think I want a tattoo of your initials on my ass.”
And then you give him the weirdest expression he’s ever seen. He can’t tell if he’s scared you off or turned you on or maybe both. But slowly, a smile makes its way onto your face.
“Okay, well, number one: this is definitely a crazy JJ idea,” you start. “But crazy JJ ideas are part of why I fell in love with you, and it’s your ass—you can do whatever you want with it. Frankly, I’m honored.”
He smashes his lips to yours and you kiss him back, chuckling against his lips. “Oh, babe, by the way, this ass belongs to you, too.” You playfully swat his chest, and his smile only grows.
You don’t know if the drinks from dinner are finally getting to you or you’re just on a high from spending so much quality time with your boyfriend, but as you and JJ wait for him to get tattooed, your mind starts to wonder if maybe you should get one as well.
After the tattoo artist finishes up with his previous client, you get up from where you were waiting next to JJ and look at the intricate designs on the wall. “Hey, Jayj?”
“What’s up?” he asks, looking up from his phone.
“What do you think of this font?”
JJ squints before deciding he might as well come over to get a better look. Standing behind you, he rests his head on your shoulder and examines what you’ve been pointing to.
“It’s alright, but not my thing,” he responds, as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Plus I think I’m just gonna stick with something simple. No twirly shit.”
You chuckle at his description of the font. “I didn’t mean for your tattoo, Jayj. I meant for me.” And that catches him off guard.
Unraveling his arms from around your waist, he moves to stand in front of you. “You’re getting a tattoo?” he questions.
A bit annoyed at his disbelief, you roll your eyes. “Why is that such a big deal?”
Racking his head for an answer that won’t make him sound like a dick, the best he comes out with is “well, it’s just not very… you.”
“Maybe that’s the point.”
JJ lifts his hands in defeat. “Hey, it’s your body. Your body, your choice, and all that, or whatever.” You chuckle at his wording. “What would you even get?”
“JJ, duh.”
His eyes widen. “You’re not serious.”
“Why not?”
He stares at you for a minute, looking deep into your eyes, trying to see if you’re joking with him, but he can’t seem to find any nervousness. “Well damn. Where are you gonna get it? And don’t say your ass because that would just be copying me.”
You roll your eyes. “No, I was thinking on my hip, right above my bikini line, you know? And it wouldn't be big or anything, just two J’s. No extra swirls or details or whatever.”
JJ puts his hand to his chin as if he needs to think it over, before stepping as close to you as possible and whispering in your ear, “that’s kinda hot, honestly.” He punctuates his comment with a kiss on the inside of your neck, and before you can do anything more you hear a clearing of breath from the tattoo artist.
“You’re up next.”
The two of you break apart from one another as if you’re fifteen and you’ve just been caught making out by the lockers during class time. JJ winks at you before laying down on the cot. “Alright, man, tat my ass up.”
Two weeks later…
“Kie!”
“Wake up!”
“Get up, Kie!”
“You’ve gotta see this!”
“Alright, I’m up!” Kiara relents, rolling her eyes as she wakes up from a heavenly nap in the hammock on the employees-only floor of the tackle and bait shop. “This better be an emergency.”
Sarah, John B., Pope, and Cleo squint a bit at her casual threat. “Okay, so it’s not exactly an emergency,” John B. clarifies. But before Kiara can object again, he explains, “JJ has an ass tat!”
“What?” Kiara asks, still a bit dizzy from her nap.
“JJ has a tattoo on his ass,” Pope clarifies proudly, and Cleo rolls her eyes in response.
“I know what an ass tat is, thank you very much,” Kiara bites back. “And why do we care that JJ has one? And also, how do you know that he has one?”
“Okay, well, you know how sometimes JJ doesn’t wear underwear?” John B. asks.
“Gross, but yes, I think we’re all unfortunately aware after the regrettable cliff diving incident last July.” Everyone shudders in horror at the memory.
“We care because it’s not something JJ-y,” Sarah explains. “He has a tattoo of someone’s initials!”
“And it’s not like JJ to, you know, ink anything remotely sentimental on himself. To be honest, I was surprised he didn’t get a joint tattooed on his ass first,” Pope elaborates.
“Well, what are the initials?”
“Y/I. And I can’t think of anyone with those initials.” John B. answers.
Now invested in the mystery of JJ’s ass tat, Kiara concentrates, trying to think of who she might know with those initials. Coming up with nothing, she asks, “Are we sure it’s not just something stupid?”
“Come on, Kie. It’s JJ. If there’s anything we’re sure about, it’s that there was a high level of stupidity involved in this decision,” Pope answers.
“Fair point,” Kiara concedes. “How did you even see the tattoo?”
“John B. walked in on him sleeping butt naked,” Sarah confesses. He shoots her a look, and she smirks. “I’m just glad you didn’t find it cuter than mine.” John B. rolls his eyes in response, and Sarah chuckles.
“Never,” he says, before kissing her on the lips.
“Gross!” Pope interjects.
Elsewhere on the island, you and JJ are enjoying a day at your favorite secluded part of the beach. The waves never get especially big here so you’re not crowded by surfers, but it’s a nice area to get away from it all and simply relax with one another.
You’re lounging on a towel, letting your back tan, as you engross yourself in your current book. Right next to you, JJ sits shirtless on his towel as he does whatever on his phone. It’s been relatively quiet for a while until you sense your boyfriend starting to stir.
You glance over at JJ only to see him typing incessantly on his phone.
“Babe?”
“Yo,” he says in acknowledgment, but without looking up from his screen.
You roll your eyes and move over onto his towel, making yourself comfortable behind his bare, sun-tanned back. Looking over his shoulder, you try to make out what he could possibly be doing.
Wrapping your hands around his stomach, you feel his abs tense under your fingers. “What’s going on?”
“I think our cover might be blown,” he answers, placing his hand above his phone so you can see the messages in the blaring sun.
John B.: Please tell me she’s not a kook.
Sarah: Hey 🙁
Cleo: We want to meet her!
Pope: How did you convince her to go out with you? Is she being held against her will?
Kie: I stfg JJ if you don’t just tell us her name.
Sarah: We’re at the usual surf spot on the beach, bring her over!
Pope: You have to come now because I need proof that a real human woman agreed to go out with you. Also if she doesn’t exist then JB owes me fifty bucks.
“Your friends are funny,” you say into his ear, and he smiles wide.
“So, what do you say? Do you want to meet them? I know we’ve kept this thing a secret but I guess it’s pointless now.”
“I’d love to meet them,” you respond, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and packing your book, towel, and your cover-up into your bag.
Once you’re all packed, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his chest. “Thanks for doing this, babe.” He lightly presses his lips to yours.
“Don’t thank me, I can’t wait to meet your friends and hear all the embarrassing stories you haven’t told me. And of course I’ll have to share some of my own in return.” You return his kiss, and for a few seconds the two of you just stand there, kissing under the hot sun. His tongue makes its way into your mouth, and you tug on his messy blonde strands in response. He moans into the kiss, but before it can get too heated, you pull away. “As much as I love this, if we don’t stop, I don’t think we’ll make it in time to meet your friends.”
“Who cares about them?” he jokes, before pressing his lips to you again. And then, in signature JJ fashion, he grabs your bag in one hand and tosses you over his shoulder.
You shriek in response. “JJ put me down!”
“You’re the one who wanted to hurry. I’m just making sure you don’t get distracted.” As he walks you to his truck, you giggle at being held upside down, swatting his butt playfully.
Meeting his friends goes great, and you easily fall into a rhythm with Sarah, Kiara, and Cleo. John B.’s extra welcoming since your existence means that Pope now owes him fifty bucks, and by late afternoon you’re all relaxing around a bonfire. Gathered in a circle around the flames, you swap embarrassing JJ stories and enjoy just getting to know the Pogues. You pass around a joint, and a comfortable silence grows among the group, interspersed with a few chill conversations. Lounging in between JJ’s legs, his hands begin to wander before settling comfortably on your hips.
He plays with the hem of your cover-up, pulling it up and down ever so slightly. Sarah sits next to you, tugged under John B.’s arm. She glances around the group before she notices a bit of ink along your bikini line. “Ooh, that’s such a cute spot for a tattoo, what is it?” she asks.
You feel your face warm and JJ shoves his head into your back, chuckling at the situation.
The rest of the group looks confused at JJ’s reaction, and now everyone’s attention is on the both of you. Realizing there’s no way out of this, you meet JJ’s fingers at your hip and ever-so-slightly move the string on your bikini bottom so that Sarah can make out what it says.
She squints. “Oh my god! You have JJ tattooed on you!”
Everybody else’s eyes go wide and they all look at you in shock.
“Really?” Pope asks, questioning your judgment, and Cleo slaps him in response.
“Leave her alone, it’s cute.”
You smile at Cleo in thanks, and JJ looks at Pope. “Pope, it’s like the hottest thing ever, I swear. The sex was great already, but now–”
You cover JJ’s mouth with your hand in embarrassment, as John B. smirks in amusement. It’s silent for a second before JJ decides to lick your hand and you immediately pull away. “Ew!” you shout, and your boyfriend howls in amusement.
Standing up from between JJ’s legs, you wipe your wet hand on your cover-up, before tugging it off. “Anyways, I’m going to go for a final swim before the sun goes down completely. Anyone want to join?”
“I just want to finish my beer, but I’ll join you in a minute,” Sarah answers, and you smile. Cleo and Kiara nod in agreement, and you make your way into the water. But before you can reach the ocean, JJ runs up to you and lifts you off the ground. You yelp at his antics, and again he lays you over his shoulder. He turns around to wave at the group as they laugh at the two of you.
The rest of the Pogues look on as JJ drops you into the water. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but they might be perfect for each other,” Pope confesses.
Everyone nods in agreement. “They’re adorable,” Sarah adds. “Absolutely adorable.”
so... please let me know what you think! I don't currently have a taglist, but if you'd like to be tagged in my next jj fic, please send me an ask :)))
#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank fic#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank one shot#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x you#jj maybank reader insert#obx fanfiction#obx x reader#my writing
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about ur Logan headcanons…
him n his pregnant wife 🥺🥺
OMG YES!!!!!
Okay okay wait I’m so excited, thank you so much for the ask anon!!
Minors don’t interact!
(Dw it’s not all smut just some of it is <3) (teeny bit of breeding kink given the circumstances)
(Btw I would really really appreciate some comments because my last post got like 800 some (thank you btw!!) likes/blank reblogs and one comment 😭 you don’t have to but it would make my day!!)
-first, he literally will NOT leave you alone. You’re sleeping? He’s laying there too, pretending to sleep. You’re in the bathroom? He’s outside the door- hell, he’d go in there with you if you’d let him. He’s so so scared that your water will just magically break (even while you’re only a month in) and also so so obsessed with the fact that you’re gonna be parents
-that being said, this man would NEVER admit to it but he’s bought like 5 parenting books that he all but knows by heart. He’ll read them when you fall asleep, his old man glasses low on his nose as he does.
-he’s also been writing letters to your future child as the pregnancy goes on, one per month. “I don’t know what your name is yet, kid, but your mom and I can’t wait to meet you.” And it’s in his precious old man cursive and I can guarantee you that when you see it you’ll be crying for seven hours
-he loves brainstorming names with you. I personally see him as a girl dad and wanting a girl, but he’s still thinking of any and all possibilities. And he’s still gonna love it to death if it’s a boy, don’t you worry about him
-but because he’s so old so many of the names he picks are somewhat dated, and it’s ADORABLE. Ulysses, Ethel, Martha, etc.
-he’s been insistent on doing basically everything- the cooking, the cleaning, the building of the baby furniture. Except he usually needs your help, or for you to throw some seasoning on the food behind his back. But he doesn’t want his pretty baby with his baby to have to lift a single finger
-ESPECIALLY in the bedroom. This mf… he believes every single myth he sees on the internet, so he’s SUPER gentle and will always wear a condom, both of which are unheard of prior to your pregnancy.
-which is SUCH a switch from how he was while you guys were trying for a baby…
-see, Logan’s always had this raging breeding kink.
-so after many serious conversations leading into the decision that the both of you wanted to try for a kid…
-let’s just say Logan was more than ready
-the amount of money that had to go into sheets during this period was actually crazy
-look, Logan always fucks
-but when he was able to let his breeding kink take control, he was absolutely feral
-the moment you would get home from work he would pounce on you, ripping off your clothes before you even had a second to say hello
-you’d have already come three times before he’d throw you down, bending you in half into the mating press and absolutely ravishing you, pounding you deeper and deeper into the mattress
-and the mouth on him was FILTHY
-“can’t wait for everyone to see who you belong to.” “You’re gonna keep taking it until it takes, and then I’m gonna make you take it some more.” “Gonna look so pretty with that tummy all round with our baby.”
-he would make you cry and see stars in the absolute best way possible
-and then it took and all of a sudden he was more gentle than a… idk gentle thing? 😭
-the duality of man I tell you
-he’s gets so cuddly and it’s absolutely adorable. He’s always been one to lay his head on your lap of snuggle into you but now?? He’s always pulling you into his lap, his hand is always on your belly
-he loves how soft and squishy you’re becoming, especially your thighs and your breasts
-when you’re achey he’s quick to massage you, when you’re feeling sick he’s right there to hold your hair
-did I mention the cooking? Listen this man is really bad at cooking but he’s trying so hard with Martha Stewart and Gordon Ramsey videos. You can hear him calling himself an idiot sandwich when he fucks up, and it’s hilarious. Meanwhile you’ll be on the couch with one of your pregnancy cravings foods, pad thai with curry from two restaurants from two separate parts of town. Yes, Logan went and got it for you. 🥹
-he literally gets anything you want too, he’s wrapped around your finger. A miniverse, marshmallows and pickles? He’s got you. That very specific lip gloss that tastes really good? Done. Literally anything you want he’s getting it without question.
-he even watches whatever you want with minimal complaint
-he’s also already spoiling the child and it hasn’t even been born yet, the nursery has everything you can imagine. Toys, books, stuffed animals, games, legos, wall decor, literally everything
-and you guys don’t even know the gender so you both just threw a dart at a color wheel and themed the room after whatever color it ended on
-he wants to give this kid the life he never had, and there’s no doubt he will
-Logan Howlett is going to be a wonderful father, and he’s so excited to love on your child just as much as he loves on you
-<3
Xx
If you want your own set of headcanons or blurb fic, hit me up!!
#wolverine fluff#wolverine headcanons#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#logan howlett fluff#logan howlett headcanon#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#wolverine#logan howlett
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Unraveling
Pairing: Thanos (Choi Su-Bong) x Reader
Summary: You and Su-Bong have settled into each other’s lives, but what happens when he turns up at your door in the middle of the night not quite himself?
Warnings: Drug use, Alternative Universe (deviates from the show story line)
Word Count: 2,204
Comments: Sorry this took longer to get out, I'm already about 1K words into the next part so the time until part 5 won't be as long 💕
<- Part Three
Settling back into life after everything that had happened had been relatively smooth, at least on the surface. You still slept fitfully, plagued by nightmares most nights, but you’d found a sense of stability in your days. A steady job at a local cafe kept you busy, and your evenings became quiet and predictable. More often than not Su-Bong joined you.
At first he’d shown up every few days, not staying too long. But after a couple of weeks you saw him almost daily. It wasn’t something either of you talked about, it just happened naturally. Sometimes he’d show up with take out, other times he’d be waiting for you after your shift, ready to walk you home.
Neither of you acknowledged how easily you’d fallen into a routine together. You may have been pushed into each other's lives through the worst circumstances, but there was something about Su-Bong that made you feel like he was meant to be there.
Despite all the time you’d begun to spend together you knew there were still parts of his life he didn’t share with you. You’d picked up on things in passing, mentions of clubs, small comments about him not remembering the night before, how bloodshot his eyes were some days. You never asked and he never brought that side of himself to you
For the most part.
‘Sweety, you can finish now,’ your boss called out warmly. She was a kind older lady who had owned the cafe for years. ‘Your boyfriend is already outside, I don’t want to keep him waiting in the cold.’
You nearly dropped the rag you were using to wipe the counter. ‘Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,’ you corrected quickly, voice coming out a little too fast. You tried to focus on wiping away the last few marks but you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing out of the window. And there he was.
Su-Bong stood across the street with a cigarette hanging lazily from between his lips. Your boss's words echoed in your head causing your stomach to flutter. Clearing your throat you forced your attention away from him before your thoughts could spiral.
Your boss gave you a knowing look, her lips curving into a sly smile. ‘You know, there aren’t many men out there that would wait around like that unless they had a reason to.’
You suddenly felt uncomfortably warm as you avoided eye contact with her. ‘He’s just looking out for me,’ you replied softly. ‘We’re friends.’
Your boss hummed knowingly, clearly not convinced. ‘If you say so sweety. Go on now, don’t leave your friend out in the cold.’
Shaking your head with a breathy chuckle, you went to grab your coat. Your heart was still beating a little too fast as you called out a quick goodbye before heading towards the door.
Just as you were reaching for the handle something outside caught your attention. Through the glass you watched as a hooded figure approached Su-Bong. Their interaction was quick, clearly practiced. A handshake, followed by Su-Bong slipping something into his pocket. It all happened so fast that if you blinked you’d have missed it.
You froze, a sick sort of weight settled over you. Of course you assumed he hadn’t just gone sober since the games. He wasn’t the kind of person to just change overnight. Thinking it was one thing, but to have it confirmed before your eyes was something else entirely.
You briefly considered trying to sneak out, maybe you could go the long way home and avoid facing him. But the hooded figure was already walking away, and Su-Bong was still there, waiting for you like nothing had happened.
With a sharp inhale to prepare yourself, you stepped outside. Forcing a smile as you crossed the road towards him.
‘Hey señorita,’ he greeted you easily, as he took one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. ‘Busy shift?’
You stretched your arms as you reached him, trying to push away the uneasy feeling that had taken hold. ‘Extremely. Looking forward to getting home.’
‘Well, I know a guy who’d like to walk a pretty girl home.’
Any other night the words would have made you laugh, but your mind was occupied with the image of what had just taken place. And yet, despite that, you couldn’t suppress the small smile that tugged at your lips.
You began walking as you replied, ‘sounds like a generous guy.’
He smirked as he fell into step beside you, hands shoved into his pockets. This should be familiar, comfortable even, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d just seen.
You knew he’d been reckless, the amount of debt he’d been in before the games was testament to that. It would have been naive to think he’d left that life behind, especially when he still wore his cross necklace everyday.
You snuck a glance at him as you continued walking. He looked the same as ever, like nothing was out of the ordinary, like you hadn’t just watched him make some sort of deal outside of your job.
Should you say something? Ask who it was? Did you even want to know?
Instead, as you neared your apartment, you forced the thoughts to the back of your mind and asked, ‘are you staying for dinner?’
Su-Bong shook his head, ‘sorry, can’t tonight.’
You desperately tried to not let the disappointment show on your face. Just as you opened your mouth to say something, he beat you to it.
‘I’ve just got some stuff to do,’ he said vaguely as he scratched the back of his head. ‘I’ll come by tomorrow though.’
You stopped in front of your apartment building, considering pushing him for more details. In the end you decided against it. Like you had told your boss, he wasn’t your boyfriend. You had no right to question him.
‘Yeah, okay, see you tomorrow.’ You forced another smile and hoped he believed it.
‘See ya señorita,’ he said with a small wink before he turned and walked away.
As you trudged up the stairs to your apartment you couldn’t stop thinking about Su-Bong. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t worried, but what could you do? He was his own person and you just had to trust that he was keeping himself safe.
You’d finally managed to drift off to sleep only to be woken by an incessant knocking. You rolled over, blinking at your alarm clock, 1:09am. Your heartbeat picked up, who the hell was knocking at this time?!
The knocking grew louder and more insistent. With a groan you managed to drag yourself out of bed and to the door. A bad feeling settled over you before you even reached the door.
Peering through the peephole, you saw Su-Bong in the hallway.
You’d barely opened the door before he threw his arms out and sang, ‘Heyyy princesss!’
You flinched at the volume. ‘Su-Bong, it’s late, are you okay?’ You asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
He grinned, smile lopsided and lazy, ‘I am now baby.’
Baby?
He’d never called you that.
The moment your gaze met his, realisation hit you like a slap. His eyes were glassy and pupils blown wide. He was high.
‘It's late Su-Bong,’ you repeated, hoping he’d give you some sort of explanation as to why he would turn up at this hour.
‘Yeah?’ he said as he waltzed past you, his movements loose, acting as though it was completely normal to just show up at someone’s house in the middle of the night. ‘Can’t I come see you when I miss you?’
That wasn’t the problem, the problem was he’d decided to turn up to your place in the middle of the night, high out of his mind, smiling like this was all some kind of joke. This wasn’t Su-Bong, not the one you’d grown to know. This was the mask he put on for the world. The mask you thought he took off for you.
He turned back to you when you didn’t reply, tilting his head with a grin. ‘Aw come on, you gonna tell me you weren’t missing me too?’
You paused briefly, looking for the right words. ‘Well I…of course I missed you but-‘
Before you could finish he flopped down onto the middle of the couch, spreading out so he took up as much room as possible. With one arm thrown over the backrest he patted his thigh, smirking. ‘Then come here baby.’
You stayed rooted to the spot, your heart hammering. This wasn’t happening. This was just some weird dream.
‘C’mon,’ his voice dropped an octave, the implication in his tone unmistakable. ‘Don’t make me beg.’
Heat crept up your neck as you looked at him. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about being close to him before; sitting on his lap, feeling the warmth of his touch. Hearing him say your name in that low voice.
But not like this.
‘You’re high,’ you pointed out firmly, as if doing so may snap him back to reality.
He just rolled his eyes dramatically. ‘Like that changes anything, I’m still me.’ He pouted dramatically and put on his best puppy dog eyes. Holding out his hand for you he added, ‘come on señoritaaa.’
You hesitated. God, you wanted nothing more than to close the distance. It’d be so easy to let him pull you in, just for a moment. Would it really be so bad to give in to this?
You couldn't even finish the thought before Su-Bong was back on his feet. Closing the space between you with slow steps. ‘Look at you baby,’ he spoke softly, almost affectionately. ‘Still that same shy, pretty girl that came over to me in the games.’
He reached up to brush your cheek. His touch was still so gentle, so warm, that for a moment you forgot what state he was in. For that fraction of a second you let yourself lean into him.
And then- ‘Come on, let Thanos take care of you.’
Your stomach twisted violently. Like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped over you, you stumbled back sharply, breaking contact.
Thanos. Not Su-Bong. Thanos.
You felt almost stupid for making the distinction. After all, it was such a small thing, just a name. But it changed everything.
Thanos may have been the one that saved you. He may have been the one that held your hand and protected you.
But Su-Bong... he was the one who let you in. He was the one that text you in the middle of the day because he saw something funny and wanted to share it. He was the one that walked you home. He was the one that turned up with takeout because he found a new place to try. He was the one who could sit with you for hours, talking about anything or nothing at all.
Su-Bong was who he chose to be with you.
Seeing him slip back to Thanos after all this time, felt like losing him.
‘I-’ Your voice sounded unsteady but you forced yourself to stand your ground. ‘I think you should leave.’
His cocky facade faltered. ‘You don’t want this?’ He gestured between the two of you, giving you a look that made you feel like you were the one acting strange.
‘I didn’t say that,’ you rushed to clarify, hoping to reassure him even as doubt began to claw at your own mind. ‘I just think you’re saying all this because…’
Because you’re not thinking clearly. Because you’re not you.
He clenched his jaw as his entire posture stiffened. ‘Because?’
You swallowed hard. ‘…because you're high and acting like someone else.’
You hated the way your words made his expression flicker with something fragile. You’d spent so much time together, it was crushing you to see him like this. You thought you’d gotten past pretending.
‘Come back when we can talk properly.’
The honesty in your words seemed to cut through the haze. ‘Fuck,’ his shoulders slumped and he looked down at the floor, like he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes anymore. ‘’m sorry,’ he murmured, voice barely audible.
Your chest ached at the way he deflated. You wanted to reach for him. To tell him it was okay, let him know you weren’t angry, just worried. But before you could, he was already walking towards the door.
Without a second thought he left.
You stood there, unmoving, as you listened to the echo of his footsteps fade away. You pressed your lips together trying to hold tears back. The silence you were left with was suffocating.
Really you should feel relieved, proud of yourself for setting that boundary. You wrapped your arms around yourself and exhaled shakily.
Turning towards the couch, you stared at where he’d been sat only minutes ago. For a moment you could picture the two of you sat there, watching a crappy re-run on your TV after stuffing yourself with food.
You wished the thought would comfort you but instead you were just left with a nagging feeling that when morning came, and he sobered up, he might not come back.
-> Part 5 Series Masterlist
Taglist: @andersonslove @fallout-girl219 @olasz-2003 @l5byrinth @hotdxdragon @cherrypied0lly @nicklet94 @learninglinesintherainn @tebteb @lotsa-juicy-shit @onecojg @the-iridescent-phoenix
#squid game AU#thanos x reader#choi su bong x reader#squid game x reader#squid game fanfic#thanos#choi su bong#player 230#squid game
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𐔌 . ⋮ not enough for you .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱
☓┆Idia Shroud x gn! reader
𓏵 857 words
ᝰ.ᐟ 3rd person POV, no pronouns used, established relationship with reader, angst, hurt/comfort
feel free to like, reblog, or leave a comment!
ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist
Idia didn’t feel like he was worth your time—your love, your affection—any of it. He was just some pathetic, introverted otaku, a guy who barely scraped by in real-life interactions and spent more time talking to NPCs than actual people. Why would someone like you, someone with so much potential, choose to get close to someone like him?
It ate at him, this gnawing doubt. He could brush it off with self-deprecating humor in the moment, but when he was alone with his thoughts, the weight of it settled in his chest like a heavy stone. Maybe it was shame, or maybe it was fear— fear of admitting that you were the only thing, besides Ortho, keeping him tethered to the outside world. The only reason he’d even consider speaking to others beyond his hyperfixations on games, anime, and the endless sea of glowing screens.
And yet, here you were. You had so many other options, so many other things you could be doing with your time. But instead, you were sitting cross-legged on the floor of his room, surrounded by controllers and snack wrappers, laughing softly as you beat him for the third time in a row.
He didn’t get it. He didn’t understand why you stayed.
“You okay?” you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. You paused the game, tilting your head to look at him, concern flickering across your face. “You’ve been kind of quiet. Did I go too hard on you this time?”
He shook his head quickly, pulling up his hood like it could somehow hide the flush creeping up his neck. “N-No, it’s not that,” he mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.
“Then what’s wrong?” you pressed gently, setting the controller aside. You scooted closer to him, your expression softening in a way that made his chest ache.
Idia hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. He didn’t want to say it. Didn’t want to ruin this, whatever this was. But the words slipped out anyway, quiet and trembling. “I just… I don’t get why you’re here. With me. I mean, you could be anywhere else, with anyone else, doing something actually… I dunno, meaningful.”
Your heart sank at his words. You reached out, placing a hand on his knee, grounding him before he could spiral further. “Idia, why would you think this isn’t meaningful?”
He let out a bitter laugh, avoiding your gaze. “Because it’s not. Look at me! I’m R-rank material at best, and you… you’re SSR. Top-tier. S-tier, even. You could speedrun life and still 100% it without breaking a sweat, and I’m just here struggling through the tutorial. Why would you waste your time on a noob like me?”
You blinked at his outburst, startled by how much he seemed to believe his own words. He laughed again, bitter and self-deprecating, pulling his hood further over his face like he wanted to disappear. “I mean, seriously. You could be out there living your best life, but instead, you’re in a shut-in’s room, playing games with someone who can’t even grind for basic social skills. It doesn’t make sense. I’m not—” He stopped himself, biting his lip. “I’m not enough for you.”
His voice cracked on the last part, and it broke your heart. You squeezed his knee gently, leaning in closer. “Idia,” you said softly, “you’re not a noob, and you’re definitely not R-rank. You’re so much more than that.”
He didn’t respond, his shoulders hunching as he tried to make himself smaller, but you weren’t about to let him retreat into his shell. “I’m here because I want to be here. I could be anywhere else, sure, but none of those places would make me as happy as this. As you do.”
His eyes widened slightly, finally flickering up to meet yours. You smiled, brushing a strand of blue flame-like hair out of his face. “I don’t care if you think you’re ‘just some otaku.’ You’re thoughtful, smart, and funny— yeah, you are,” you added quickly when he opened his mouth to argue. “You make me laugh. You make me feel safe. And honestly, I love spending time with you, whether it’s gaming until dawn or just sitting here, talking.”
Idia’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. He looked stunned, like he didn’t quite believe you but wanted to so badly.
“You don’t have to be perfect, Idia,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to be anyone but yourself. That’s enough for me. You’re enough for me.”
For a moment, the room was silent, save for the faint hum of his computer monitors. Then, Idia let out a shaky breath, his eyes glistening as he quickly wiped at them with his sleeve. “…You’re like, ridiculously OP, you know that?” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.
You grinned, reaching for the controller again. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you in check when you’re feeling down, right? Now, come on, rematch. I’m not going easy on you this time.”
For the first time that night, he smiled—a small, timid thing, but a smile nonetheless. “You’re on.”
#۶ৎ qka daydreams!#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#twst x you#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x you#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#idia shroud x you#twst idia#twst idia x reader#idia x reader#idia x you#angst#hurt/comfort#light angst
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Summoning Game Show Part 7
Masterpost
Okay. This is technically the end of Summoning Game Show! There is room to write more, but that probably won't be coming for a little bit. Thank you to everyone for reading and commenting and sharing. I am so so happy that people liked it and interacted and everything. I had a great time and I hope you like the end.
~~~~~
Red, Nightwing, and Robin soon find themselves in an office/meeting room of sorts. They’re seated on a couch in front of a table.
Danny closes the door behind them. “I would offer you a drink, but I don’t think you could drink it.”
Danny takes a seat on a loveseat across the table from them. He has a small green dog with a spiky collar sitting in his lap and he pets him absentmindedly as he gets settled. Robin is laser focused on the dog.
“What would you guys like to talk about?”
“Who is that?” Robins asks immediately.
“This is Cujo!” Danny smiles down at the Cujo and he wags his tail when he hears his name. “You guys don’t mind him being in here right? He’s mostly well behaved.”
Robins shakes his head. “We don’t mind. Just…”
“Ah, dead animal. Well, animals get ghosts too.” Danny explains. “ Personally, I like to think that Cujo is happy.”
“His collar says Axion Labs.”
Danny nods at Robin, fingers playing with the collar. “ He used to be a guard dog for them.”
“What-” Robin is cuts off as Danny and Cujo start glowing more brightly, Cujo starts growling and his form flickers.
“Never- never- ask a ghost how they died.” The boys all nodded, and Danny and Cujo stabilized as they calmed down. “It’s very rude. Now, to business, why did you want to summon me? ”
“We do a lot of travel, space, dimensions and everything and we just wanted to learn more about this realm. Maybe set up communications, that kind of thing. A learning experience.” Nightwing explains.
“I mean, we clearly don’t know enough considering we didn’t know you could help Hood. Or that he needed help in the first place.” Red mutters the last bit.
Danny eyes them all warily. “Historically, we don’t really do well when people want to learn more about us. What exactly do you need this information for?
“”Just to learn. I told you, I like to know things.” Red said.
“Well, I can’t just give out any information, but if you want to ask me some questions until Hood gets back, I’ll answer what I can.”
“What is this place actually called?” Nightwing asks.
“Oh, it has lots of names, because it’s lots of places. This is the Infinite Realms, home to all afterlives and the dimension between dimensions.”
“Home to all afterlives?” Red is flabbergasted. Red wasn’t sure that he believed in any afterlives, and now there are multiple? “So you’re all dead?”
“No.” They wait a moment but Danny does not elaborate.
“So there are living people here?” Nightwing asks.
“Obviously.”Danny makes a face at them. “Everyone here is living. You need better terminology. Humans are very narrow when it comes to life and death.”
“That’s because usually you’re either dead or alive.” Robin is struggling to comprehend the possibility of an in-between.
“That seems very narrow-minded coming from people who came here with someone both alive and dead.”
“Hood?” Red asks.
“Hood is alive.” Nightwing states.
“And dead!” Danny chirps. “There are many in-betweens, most leaning to one side or the other. Hood leans more towards being alive, but his being alive is dependent on ectoplasm, so he’s at least a little dead. Though the fact that he was able to live with the ectoplasm he has means that he is mostly alive.”
“What is ectoplasm and how did Hood get it?” Red is very curious now.
“Oh, everything. Most of the Infinite Realms is made out of ectoplasm , including most creatures in it. “ Danny puts his hand together and green liquid pools in it. The same green as everything outside.
“So, that’s probably the Lazarus pits.” Red mutters. “ Explains the exposure bit.”
“You have ectoplasm in your dimension?” Danny asks.
The boys nod. “There are a few pools of it around. One guy in particular likes to hoard them to keep from dying.”
Danny frowns.
“That’s a violation. Ectoplasm is poisonous for humans, radioactive.” Danny complains. “And if his ectoplasm is as bad as the ectoplasm in your friend, that is not healthy.”
“It would be, he’s the one who exposed Hood to it in the first place.”
Danny groans. “Alright, I’m going to need a list of all the locations you know of in your dimension, and if you have a way for me to contact whoever is hoarding the ectoplasm that would be great. I’m going to have to take care of that.”
There’s a knock on the door and Danny calls, “Come in!”
Frostbite opens the door for Hood, who comes in without his helmet, but with a mask on. “Guys, this is my new doctor. He’s great.” Hood says.
“Glad you’re doing better!” Danny smiles at them both as Hood takes a seat. Frostbite nods his head, then leaves again, shutting the door behind him. “Frostbite gave you a rundown of what’s to do and what’s going to happen now that you have healthy ectoplasm?”
“Yep, explained all the side effects, but I’m already feeling much better.”
“Wonderful! So If you guys wouldn’t mind just giving me that information so I can follow up on it, I think we’re done here.”Danny stands, putting Cujo on the seat as he vacates it.
“We would like to be able to get in contact with you, if you’re coming to our dimension, that way we can tell the rest of the heroes what you’re up to and everything. Is there any way to communicate between our dimensions?” Red asks.
“Frostbite also said I would need to discuss a way to get fresh ectoplasm from you until I can create my own reliably.” Jason cuts in.
“Well, looks like I have lots of business in your dimension. Do you guys have communicators that you use? Anything from your dimension on you right now?”
They all nod. “Cool, hand me something, two-way, that you don’t mind losing because after I fix it up you won’t be able to contact anyone except for me on it.”
Red hands him a phone, Danny opens it up and messes with the insides before putting it back together. Then he turns it on and calls his Ghost business phone so he would have the number. He hands Red back the phone, picking his own up. “What should I name you guys? Is it always going to be Red on the phone?”
“Probably not.” Red says. “Especially if Hood needs things from you as well. Just put us under Bats.”
“Bats is weird, but whatever you say.” Danny finishes with his phone and smiles up at them. “Thanks for competing! I’ll be in touch.”
#batman#danny phantom#crossover#dcxdp#dpxdc#batfamily#nightwing#red hood#red robin#robin#cujo#frostbite#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#summoning game show#alternate universe#my writing#fanfiction
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heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: sabrina carpenter - "please please please"
summary: a school assignment leads you to team bofurin. a chance meeting in the cafe leads you to umemiya. where else will furin high lead you over the course of 5 days?
wc: 7.5k (lord have mercy)
cw/tags: umemiya hajime x gn journalist!reader, strangers to lovers, swearing/explicit language, brief canon-typical violence, blood, and peril, angst/fluff and injury hurt/comfort, ume's a gentleman but that gets tested lol
note: friends this is the longest thing i have ever posted here and i was really debating not posting it because i didn't like how it was turning out, but then i just pushed through the rest of it...and it became 7 thousand words.....ANYWAY really hope you enjoy !
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <33
— Day 1 of 5: “Please, please, please // Don’t prove I’m right”
A glass bottle shatters on the sidewalk below you, shadowy figures scattering into dark alleyways like rats. You grimace at their sadistic laughter and silently thank your host for not living on the ground-level. The sound of a shaking spray paint can echoes in the empty street and you watch a messy hot pink insignia appear as it's drawn on a shop window. Damn. This was going to be a long five days.
“Wait, you want me to do what?”
“You’ll be staying with a high school friend of mine who owns a store in the area,” your journalism teacher continues, quickly scanning over a student’s document and grading it without blinking. She swipes to the next document, mechanically repeating the same process of grading it and moving on. She doesn’t stop to see the shock on your face.
“Ma’am, I don’t know–”
“You’ll be fine, just stick to the populated areas and don’t go out at night. If you want to, you could even befriend some of those Furin kids,” she says as she absentmindedly clicks away at her keyboard. “It’ll be good for you to report on something other than the mathletes team, for once.” At least the mathletes are safe, you think to yourself. A little awkward, but nowhere near the delinquents at Furin.
“Hold on, may I ask why I’m the one doing this?” You wring your hands nervously, glancing at the afternoon sun sinking outside the classroom window. “I don’t understand why you’re asking me–”
“You want the full-ride scholarship, don’t you?” Her eyes are beady through the thin rims of her glasses. You fight the urge to shrink away from her piercing gaze, one that you never become accustomed to no matter how many times you’re subject to it. “Trust me when I tell you that the judges will not care how many times the mathletes lost, no matter how eloquently you write about it.” You let your skepticism show on your face.
“But they’ll care about a bunch of boys that get into fights every day?” If she cares about your deadpanned comment, she doesn’t acknowledge it.
“My friend told me once or twice that there’s more to those Furin boys than meets the eye,” she says before turning back to her screen. Your confusion is still obvious, but the only help your teacher gives you is an indifferent shrug. “It’s up to you. But if you want a competitive edge, you need to take more risks.” You exhale, weighing your options and ultimately deciding that your career was more important.
“When do I start?”
You begin your morning early on your first day in Makochi. After leaving your host’s apartment and staring at the graffiti-covered high school that was drowning in plant overgrowth, you abruptly turned on your heel and decided to observe the people on the busiest street. You had no interest in exploring Furin High School itself, only the effects of crime and constant fighting on the uninvolved citizens. You catch a group of boys wearing black jackets heading in the same direction as you and duck into the nearest cafe, hoping to wait them out and watch how they interact with the town. Across the street, the owners of the shop that was vandalized with the pink insignia scrub the paint from the glass.
“Good morning.” A girl with short brown hair greets you behind the counter, gesturing for you to take a seat on one of the stools. You thank her and set your notebook down next to you, flipping through the menu when you feel her staring at you. “Are you new here?”
“I’m in town for a few days,” you reply. Her demeanor is friendlier than you would expect from an area that sees so much violence. “I’m from one of the neighboring high schools.” The girl nods, placing a cup of water in front of you, along with a set of chopsticks.
“Are you visiting family? We don’t get many visitors here, so I’m just wondering what a new face is doing in town,” she says, nodding when you point at the menu item you want for breakfast.
“No family here; I’m actually studying the town for an assignment. My teacher thinks that if I write about this town, it’ll help me get a scholarship.” Her mouth opens in an ah of understanding and she ducks into the refrigerator to retrieve some eggs. An idea pops into your brain and you open your notebook. “While I’m here, do you mind if I ask you a few questions about Furin High?”
“Sure. Bofurin members eat here all the time.” Your eyebrows draw together and, unlike your journalism teacher, she understands and addresses your lack of knowledge. “Bofurin is the team that protects this town. It’s made up entirely of students at Furin High School. Actually, it’s a little funny that you stopped into here today, of all places, since–”
“Kotoha!” The door flies open and the same group of boys that were behind you on the sidewalk corral into the cafe, the space suddenly too small for the number of people present. The source of the voice, a tall guy with bright white hair and coattails attached to his jacket, approaches the girl behind the counter with a blinding smile. ��Did you miss me?”
“No,” Kotoha deadpans, sending you a sympathetic look as more boys file into the cafe. “I was gonna say that you chose the one day Umemiya treats all his underclassmen to breakfast. Umemiya’s the leader, the tall idiot I was just talking to.” You grimace and begin to jot down what little information you’d learned about Furin, covering the side of your face with your hand and hoping none of the students question why you were there. It’s wishful thinking, unfortunately.
“Oi.” You’re snapped from your brainstorming daze by a boy whose hair and eyes were two different colors. He was watching you write like you were plotting how to demolish the high school and you curse your luck for the millionth time that you picked the one cafe the Bofurin team frequented. “Who are you and why are you here?”
“Sakura, you can’t just say that to strangers. Tell them you’re sorry,” Kotoha, the girl behind the counter, chides. The boy’s cheeks turn pink and he turns away, muttering what sounds like a half-assed apology to you. “Don’t mind him,” she says to you with a warm smile. “He’s terrible around new people.” Sakura’s face twists into indignation.
“No, I’m not!”
“Yes, you are. You got into a fight on your first day here, and school hadn’t even started yet,” points out another student with blonde hair sitting next to a boy wearing dangling earrings and an eyepatch. You’re quick to write down anything and everything you were hearing, picking up pieces of conversation from the tables around you. “Hey, what are you writing?” The question doesn’t come off as accusatory, but you shut your notebook anyways and guard it like a treasure chest.
“It’s nothing. Just homework,” you force out.
“Homework,” the boy with the eyepatch echoes. “So, you live around here?”
“They go to a neighboring highschool,” Kotoha explains before you have the chance to speak. “They’re actually here to study Bofurin.” All three boys turn to you expectantly, as if you were going to interview them on the spot.
“I’m just here to observe,” you say quickly, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m not here to interfere or get in your way or anything.”
“Who said you would be getting in the way? I’m sure Umemiya wouldn’t mind–”
“I wouldn’t mind what?” You jump, the same guy that called Kotoha’s name upon entering the cafe appearing like a ghost between you and the boys you were conversing with. “Have you three ordered yet? You need to eat! We have a big day today,” the person you assume is Umemiya instructs the boys. To your surprise, they’re quick to nod their assent and place their orders. “Good. Now, what was it I wasn’t going to mind?”
“There’s someone here to study us,” the half-and-half haired kid mutters, pointing in your direction. Like before, the two other students scold him for his brashness.
“Don’t say it like that, Sakura.”
“It makes it sound like we’re animals in a documentary.”
“Study us?” Umemiya ignores them and turns to you with a curious look. “Why?” Your face heats and you hastily close your notebook again, hoping that Kotoha would be done with your food soon so you could vacate the cafe and avoid it for the rest of your stay.
“It’s for an assignment for school,” you reply hesitantly.
“You don’t need to be so humble,” Kotoha calls over her shoulder from the stove. “You can tell them it’s for a scholarship.” The three boys next to Umemiya gape at you in awe, but you can’t help feeling the slightest bit embarrassed that you drew so much attention to yourself on your first day in town. You didn’t know much about the Furin boys except for their reputation as fighters, and you expected Umemiya to turn you away and kick you out on the spot.
“I’ll be out of town in a few days, so you don’t need to–”
“You can shadow us.” What the hell did he just say? You blink at him, unsure if you hallucinated his words or if he actually said them. Umemiya’s face suddenly turns a shade redder and he turns to his three underclassmen, whispering uneasily, “That is the term for it, right?”
“I think so,” the blonde one whispers back. “Suo, you’re better with words. What does it–”
“You want them to follow you around and see how you guys work,” Kotoha says as she brings you your meal in a to-go container. “That’s what ‘shadowing’ means.” Umemiya thanks her with a thumbs-up before turning back to you.
“What she said. Come with us as we go through our daily routines so you really understand what we do.” You start to stutter out a list of fake reasons why you couldn’t, something along the lines of getting in their way and needing to take a fish to the veterinarian. Umemiya doesn’t budge and sees through your nerves like glass. “You won’t be inconveniencing us at all, I promise. If anything, it’ll be good for more people to have an understanding of Bofurin.”
“Yeah. If you just watch us from the outside, your writing’s not gonna be any good,” Sakura says bluntly. The two boys next to him flinch and cover their faces.
“You should stop saying things like that, Sakura,” the boy with the eye-patch warns.
“Like I said,” Kotoha mumbles in passing. “Don’t pay him any mind. He’s just like that.”
“So, what do you say?” Umemiya grins at you in a way that unwillingly makes your heart rate increase and, before your mind knows it, you’re nodding in agreement and he settles on the stool next to you. “Great! Before we start, do you mind if I ask you about yourself?”
— Day 2 of 5: “I know I have good judgment // I know I have good taste”
It’s 7:00 am when Umemiya appears outside your door.
“Good morning! Did you sleep well? I know yesterday was a lot, so hopefully we didn’t scare you too badly.” You rub your eyes and manage to give him a sleepy ‘good morning,’ trying to shake off the exhaustion after running around the previous day with Bofurin. The moon was hanging high by the time Umemiya dropped you off at your host’s apartment and you thought you were hearing things when he said he’d be back in the morning to pick you up. “We’re not gonna have time to stop by the cafe, so I picked up something for you to eat.” You open the small paper bag he hands you to find a pastry wrapped in a napkin, slightly squashed from the walk. “Do you have everything?”
“Yes, I do. This is really nice of you Umemiya,” you say as you fall into step next to him. He shrugs and waves you off, but you catch the self-confident upturn at the corner of his mouth. Why you were staring at his mouth in the first place could not be waterboarded out of you.
“Don’t mention it. What’d you think of yesterday? Oh, wait. Let me take this from you so you can eat.” Before you can stop him, he reaches over and carefully slides the strap of your bag from your shoulder and hoists it onto his. Surprised, you thank him again, something that you found yourself doing a lot since you met him. It wasn’t like you were trying to overstate your gratitude, Umemiya just kept doing things for you; on your first day, he did everything from crouching down to tie your shoe to herding you toward the side of the sidewalk, away from the busy street. So far, Bofurin was nothing like you’d previously imagined.
“There’s a lot more structure in place than I thought there would be,” you answer, taking a few bites of the pastry. After Umemiya gave you a proper introduction to first-year class captain (and your self-proclaimed #1 skeptic) Sakura, he also introduced you to Suo and Nirei, the two boys that were with him. The rest of your first day was a flurry of meetings and broadcast announcements from the top of the school, mixed with an unexpected amount of pot transplanting on the roof. “I didn’t realize there would be such a clear hierarchy of power…or a community garden.”
“You thought we were just a bunch of kids who got into fights every day?”
“Yes–wait, no!” Your face burns while you backtrack and try to explain yourself. Umemiya doesn’t hear it and simply chuckles at your slip. “Okay, fine. Yes, I did think you were a bunch of kids that got into fights every day. But,” you pause, taking a look at the pastry in your hand. “There’s obviously more I need to learn.”
“That’s alright,” Umemiya beams. The sun starts to peek over the roofs of the little stores and houses, painting Furin High golden as you approach. “That's why I’m here. Oh, and before I forget, give me your phone.” You watch as he dials his contact information in, even taking a picture of himself for the contact photo. “What do you think?”
“Wow, you look great. Thanks for doing that for me.”
“Of course. Now you have a direct line to me in case you ever need anything!” He has a cute smile, speaks an unprompted voice in your head that you’re quick to silence. You’re about to tease him about being so friendly with strangers when you catch sight of a smear of hot pink running across the bricks beside you. Umemiya’s smile fades as you walk past the metal garage door of a food vendor, it too becoming the victim of the same pink marking you saw on your first night.
“That’s the second one I’ve seen now.” His eyes are narrowed when you turn to him. He’s not focusing on what you’re saying; you can tell by the way the muscle in his jaw clenches that he’s running analyses like a supercomputer. “Do you have any idea who’s doing this?”
“There hasn’t been word of a pink team in ages, let alone one that has the audacity to come on Bofurin territory and claim it,” he says quietly.
“They’re trying to take it from you?”
“Keyword ‘trying.’ Doesn’t mean they’ll be successful.” The darkness of his expression disappears in a blink and you’re met with a self-assured grin. “Ah, well don’t worry about it. We handle this kind of stuff all the time,” he reassures you, readjusting your bag over his shoulder and starting again down the sidewalk.
“How often do you deal with stuff like this?”
“Weekly, probably,” he shrugs and you make a mental reminder to write it in your notebook.
“Are people just looking for a fight because you’re the strongest team, or is it something else?” Your mind momentarily brings you back to sitting across from the mathletes team in the school library, giving them food for thought and jotting down their responses. It was a little different, asking questions of Umemiya, but the familiar feeling of seeking answers is comforting muscle memory.
“I don’t have a concrete answer for you, honestly,” he admits. “But, my theory is that people don’t like what we do here. We protect the town and discourage people from doing unethical things. People simply don’t like being told what they can’t do.” You nod, trying your best to remember everything he’s saying. It made sense why smaller teams would want to take down the most powerful team in the area, but the morality side and restricting the actions of others because they harm the townspeople was something you didn’t expect to also play into the situation. “Are you going to interview any other teams here?” You shake your head.
“I wasn’t planning on it. The answers that you’re giving me now are more than I could have hoped for,” you answer and you catch his satisfied smirk out of the corner of your eye. “Do you think I should study other teams?”
“You don’t need to. You fit in better with us, anyway.”
— Day 3 of 5: “Whatever devil’s inside you // Don’t let him out tonight”
Reports of the hot pink marking become more frequent the longer you stay with Bofurin, both for sightings on shop windows and shadows sneaking around alleyways just out of patroller’s lines of sight. The more teams Umemiya sent out to paint over the vandalism, the more sightings increased. To you, it was an indicator of growing tensions between Bofurin and surrounding, envious teams.
To Umemiya, it was Wednesday.
“We have a collaborative meeting with another team, Shishitoren, today,” he informs you on the walk from your host’s apartment to the school, your bag swinging weightlessly on his shoulder. “I’d like for you to join us, but it’s ultimately up to you.”
“Do you have a history with them?” The team leader’s eyes space out and he blinks once, then twice, before coming back to the present.
“Yeah…you could say that,” he chuckles. “Just don’t ask Sakura about his first one-on-one with them. He gets defensive.” You stifle a grin.
“Oh, did he lose?”
“He won, actually,” Umemiya corrects, equally as amused as you, “Which is the part he gets mad about, so you should probably steer clear of the subject all together.” You nod, interviewing Sakura being nowhere in your plans. “Suo and Nirei will be able to give you all the info you need, though,” he says quickly, mistaking your silence for discontent. “And of course, you could always ask me too.” He smiles at you and something in your brain short-circuits.
Ever the professional, you try not to think about how nice Umemiya’s been to you when you arrive at the Ori, headquarters of Shishitoren. Steering away from the run-down screening room, you and Umemiya’s team climb up to the roof, where a group of guys wearing orange baseball jackets are waiting.
“What took you so long? Breakfast is getting cold!” The team’s leader, Tomiyama, leaps from his seat on the ledge and bounds over to Umemiya. “Oh?” He pauses, looking you up and down before smiling brightly at you. “You brought your new friend, Ume!” You wave politely and introduce yourself, a little more relaxed with Umemiya at your side.
“Smart,” comments whom you assume to be the second-in-command, Togame. He moves at a leisurely pace, barely even blinking as he lifts Tomiyama by the collar of his jacket and sets him at the other end of the meeting’s circle. “Our guys have caught at least three of their guys running surveillance on your side. Who knows what would’ve happened if you left your guest at the school alone.”
“Surveillance?” You frown, but Umemiya doesn’t look surprised. “And what do you mean, something could have happened?”
“Rival members follow others around, learning their ins and outs,” Togame tells you. “Essentially what you’ve been doing, but uninvited. They’ve been getting pretty pissy about Bofurin lately, so they might’ve tried to use you as some kind of collateral if they knew Umemiya would be out.” The thought makes you gag, and the same discontent expressions can be found on all the occupants of the roof.
“They’re not very nice, those guys,” Tomiyama pouts. “The ones we’ve questioned wanna take over your side, Ume.” So other teams want to take over Bofurin’s territory more often than Umemiya lets on, you think to yourself. Maybe not even on a weekly basis, but daily.
“Did you let the guys you’ve questioned off the hook? Or you still have ‘em here?” Hiragi asks.
“We don’t have any of them here, no,” Togame replies. “But we have a general idea of how they make their rounds and can probably catch a team or two when they start following Bofurin guys.”
“Great,” Umemiya concludes with a single decisive clap. “Let’s go get ‘em.”
“Alright, field trip time!” Tomiyama’s energy sends him practically bouncing off the walls. You pack up what little things you brought with you to the meeting and are ready to fall into step behind the guys, but Umemiya stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Yo, Kaji.” The lollipop-mouthed second-year pulls down his headphones to listen. “Take them back to the school. Don’t want them there in case things get ugly.” You open your mouth to protest, ready to fire off why it’s important that you see the good, bad, and ugly of Bofurin, but Umemiya silences you with a shake of his head. “Please go. I’m not changing my mind.”
“Why don’t you want me to be there?”
“Like I said, things could get ugly–”
“And,” you cut in, “I’m capable enough to run if I need to. You can trust me to get out of there on my own.” The tone of his reply is soft and patient, like it was for your own good that you didn’t go.
“Maybe next time, okay?” You frown, disappointment twisting in your gut. “I don’t doubt that you can handle your own if things get bad. I just…don’t want you to see it if things get bad.” He runs a hand through his hair and the flex of his large bicep suddenly clicks the pieces of understanding into place. There was a reason why he was the head of Bofurin and respected by all these rowdy team members, whether they were on his team or not. Though you hadn’t seen him fight yet, there was a more dangerous side to Umemiya that existed with the kindness he’d shown you. He didn’t want you there in case things got ugly because of him.
“I–I see.” He nods with a sigh of relief and turns to leave; you pull your arms close to your body at the sudden chill as he walks away. “Umemiya?” He pauses at the doorway, his hand hovering over the handle as he looks over his shoulder at you expectantly. Several things occurred to you to say to them, all of them borderline condescending if he took it the wrong way. Don’t do anything brash. Make sure you come back. You shouldn’t need to use your fists for this.
“Be safe, please,” is what you settle for.
— Day 4 of 5: “Everyone makes mistakes // But just don’t”
You’re past the halfway point of studying Furin High and team Bofurin when Hiragi storms into the broadcast room, grumbling about being out of supplies. Umemiya isn’t worried and reassures his friend that they would have what they were missing by the end of the day. Four days of immersing yourself in Bofurin was having a significant effect on you, since you volunteer to do the run before anyone else does.
To be fair, you did need to run back to your host’s apartment–who had so graciously started letting Umemiya in while he waited for you to get ready in the morning–because you’d forgotten to drop your notebook in your bag before rushing out the door. The list wasn’t huge, either, and you figured you could do the whole trip in about an hour: painkillers (Nirei misjudged his spacing and accidentally got kicked in the crotch), small bandages (Sakura, self-explanatory), wet wipes (Suo noted how dirty the desks became because of everyone’s shoes), and a few packages of plant food (Umemiya insisted on buying some potted flowers from the vendor on your street).
“Are you sure? One of the patrol teams can pick the stuff up,” Umemiya offers, eyeing you oddly. Four days of immersing yourself in Bofurin meant you also caught the team’s head staring when he thought you weren’t looking, and then quickly turning away when you looked back. “Or, if you go, let me send one of the class captains with you, just in case. Sakura should be on patrol in the area.” You shake your head and stand up to leave.
“I’ll be fine, Ume, I promise.” The nickname slips out before you can stop it, but he doesn’t seem to notice, eyebrows drawn in concern as he watches the floor. You lightly rest your hand on his shoulder and he snaps out of it, exhaling through his nose before nodding, reluctantly.
“Call if anything happens,” Hiragi grunts before turning to Umemiya. “Hey, weren’t you talking about giving them a–”
“Hiragi, you’re a genius,” Umemiya cuts in and moves to dig through a box at the corner of the room. “Hey, wait,” he says, gently catching your wrist before you’re out the door and pressing a jacket into your hand. Four days of immersing yourself in Bofurin, and you would know the jacket’s green collar and the insignia anywhere. “No one should bother you if you’re wearing it.”
Ironically, absolutely nothing happens until you’re on your way back from the convenience store. Your host was waiting for you in the living area to give you your notebook, and the store was barely a block away from her apartment. You find the needed items easily, placing a bag of mixed hard candies and a box of new chalk into your basket because you noticed they were running out. It’s a perfect day as you walk back to Furin, all cloudless skies and cool breezes and smooth sidewalks. The Furin jacket fits snugly on your torso, sturdy enough to protect you from the chill in the shade but light enough that you don’t overheat from the sun. It’s nice, something you could get used to.
You don’t realize they’re behind you until it’s too late.
“So, you’re Bofurin’s bitch, huh? Nice to see you in the light.” You stop in your tracks and look behind you to see a dozen guys in hot pink team uniforms you don’t recognize. There shouldn’t be that many of a rival team on Bofurin grounds, right? What the hell were they doing here?
“You gonna say something, or are you stupid as you are ugly?”
“Aww, look at them. They’re shaking and they don’t even know why,” one of the guys in the front sneers. “Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll give you something to be scared of.” The group starts to approach you and your vision slows like everything was moving through syrup. You catch the symbol on their uniforms, the same one that’s been spray painted on the town’s buildings for the past few days. The encroaching team was trying to take you to get leverage over Bofurin. Not good. Definitely not good.
“Umemiya’s gonna think twice about messing with us after they see how we mess up his little pet!” Umemiya. You need to get to Umemiya. Your senses come back to you like a freight train and you have half the mind to dig your shoes into the street and run.
The rival team shouts after you and the sound of pursuing footsteps thunder down the road. With one hand gripping the plastic bag of supplies, you yank your phone from the jacket pocket and frantically swipe to his contact. Your assailants draw closer and you force more energy into your legs, barely outrunning them by a few seconds. You cut through an alleyway and round a corner, but a dip in the road simultaneously makes you trip, pain shooting through your ankle. Shit! Your finger misses the ‘call’ button on your phone and you tap the ‘send location’ button instead. It’s not what you were going for, but your only options were to stop to properly call for help and get caught or keep running on your tweaked ankle. With the group of guys racing around the corner to catch you, you have no choice but to keep running.
“Get the hell away from me!” You skid to a halt and turn to face the team head-on, your voice unsteady and breathless. You were finally starting to recognize the buildings around you; at the same time, your lungs were aching unbearably. Your pursuers slow to a halt and you’re stuck in a standoff in the middle of the street, the townspeople shutting themselves away in their stores to minimize damage to their own livelihoods. You stumble backward when the team leader steps forward, a cruel grin covering his entire face.
“C’mon now, we just wanna have a little chat with you, you being Bofurin’s newest addition and all.” The men behind him leer at you, swinging their bats and crowbars up onto their shoulders.
“Take one step closer and all of Bofurin comes running,” you snarl, shoving your phone forward, your finger hovering over the ‘send location’ button.
“That’s a whole lotta bullshit spewing out of your mouth, sweetie.”
“Why don’t you shut yours, asshole?” You spit. Sure the phone was a bluff, a last-ditch effort to stall for time.
It didn’t matter.
You knew how quickly Bofurin organized.
As the hot pink leader lunges the remaining distance between you two, he’s knocked to the side by a blur of black, green, and white. Sakura stands up straight, rolls his shoulders, and scowls at you.
“Why didn’t you call us sooner, dumbass?”
“What, you think I wanted to get chased down today?” You meet his attitude with your own irritation and exhaustion. “Why didn’t you get here sooner?”
“Just go somewhere safe, idiot,” he yells, slamming his fist into an attacker’s face. “Your boyfriend’ll be here soon, but we were closer when he messaged everyone!” You don’t have time to think about the idea of Umemiya texting all of Bofurin to descend upon your location.Your glare fades quickly into relief and you step backward as Suo and Kiryu launch themselves into the fight. Kaji and Hiragi rush in within a minute, and you’re spun to face Umemiya before you register that he’s there.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” He searches your face, his anxiety evident. “What did they do to you?”
“I’m okay, I’m okay. They didn’t get me.” Your voice wavers when you try to put weight on your injured ankle, and it panics Umemiya even more. Other Bofurin members enthusiastically join the brawl, but all Umemiya can do is take your hands and scan your body, letting you use him to balance on your good foot.
“They were chasing you? I knew I should have–” You give him a tired smile and pull his face up to meet your eyes.
“I didn’t let them catch me. I’m safe, I promise.” He inhales like he’s about to say something, but his attention snaps behind you, his expression hardening in an instant. He slips in front of you like a shield and brings his forearm up to block the hand that was meant to grab you while you were distracted. He throws the attacker to the ground and it lies still, completely unconscious.
“Hey!” The sound of Umemiya’s voice echoes in the street. The chaos stills, fists suspended in mid air. His eyes that looked so kindly on you darken into shadows, shutting out the sunlight and sending chills down the backs of everyone present. “Not enough to kill…” he orders, securing an arm around your waist and turning you away from the fighting, leaving his underclassmen to finish the job. “But enough.”
You’re a sweating mess and barely able to put weight on your ankle by the time you make it through the doors of Bofurin headquarters. You fall away from his supportive body and your shoulder hits the wall, stars scattering in your vision. Any attempt to drag yourself further, with or without Umemiya’s help, earns you nothing but a hiss and a white-hot flash of pain. Umemiya looks distraught, reaching forward and pulling back with indecisive uncertainty.
“What do you need me to do? Tell me what to do and I’ll do it,” he pleads with you. “Please, tell me what you need.”
“Water,” you croak, your voice hoarse and tired. “I just–I can’t–I can’t walk well–” Your feet leave the ground before you can comprehend that you’re in the air, Umemiya’s arms effortlessly lifting you and beginning the ascent up the school’s stairs. His body is steady and he barely breaks a sweat, stone-cold determination his only expression. Your decreasing heart rate pounds in your forehead and you squint against the light once he climbs to the roof. He sets you gently on a chair in the shade before retrieving a bottle of water, watching as you take a few sips before kneeling in front of you.
“May I?” You blink, regaining your senses, and realize he’s asking if he can inspect your ankle. You hum, settling into the chair while he carefully rolls up the cuff of your pants. His fingers brushing your bare skin momentarily makes you forget any pain, a shock of lightning shooting up your spine as he swipes his thumb over the front of your ankle. He turns your leg over gently in his hands before deeming it okay. “It’s not swelling, thankfully, so it’s probably just a bad sprain at most.” He exhales, deeply relieved, but continues to run his fingers carefully over the tender area.
“You couldn’t have predicted they would be there,” you say, his thoughts painted all over his face.
“I didn’t say anything,” he mumbles, more irritated than you expected. He’s just mad at himself, not at you, you need to remind yourself.
“You didn’t need to.” Your hand reaches itself out on its own accord, turning his face so you could meet his eyes. “I didn’t get hurt because of you.”
“But you did get hurt,” he mutters, eyebrows drawn the same way as when he was analyzing the pink symbol a few days prior. The cogs in his brain were turning, you could see, but this time there was a lingering sense of shame. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you safe.”
“I’m here with you, aren’t I?” He shrugs, but you catch the muscle in his jaw relax as his eyes soften. “If that’s not safe, then I don’t know what is.”
“You’re not angry that I wasn’t there sooner?”
“I’m safest when I’m with you,” you state simply, “and you found me at just the right moment. So no, of course I’m not angry with you.” Words slip out of Umemiya’s mouth before he’s able to register that they’re leaving, but he has half the mind to change the middle part of the sentence before he comes off as too overbearing.
“I…care about you, deeply.” You smile, letting him take your hand into his own and press his lips to the inside of your palm.
— Day 5 of 5: “We could live so happily // If no one knows that you’re with me”
It’s 7:00 am and Umemiya isn’t outside your door.
You curl up on your bed and stare out the window, the street below milling with its usual morning business. After he dropped you off the previous night with a curt ‘sleep well’ and a reminder to ice your ankle, you were left in an eerily quiet bedroom while you tossed and turned thinking about the day’s events. A ring of the doorbell sends you hobbling down the stairs and throwing open the front door, only to be met with a very pink Sakura, flanked by Suo and Nirei.
“Don’t go outside today,” Sakura says bluntly. Nirei flinches and Suo’s smile becomes slightly strained, both of them eyeing their class captain warily.
“What he means,” Suo says before Sakura can say anything else, “is that you don’t need to come study Bofurin today.” Your heart sinks. This must have been because of the day prior. He was really mad that you got yourself hurt, huh?
“Don’t look so sad about it,” Sakura mutters, his cheeks turning a slightly darker shade of red. “It’s annoying.” You stutter an unexpected apology and suddenly have the urge to hide back in your room until your train the next day.
“I get it,” you say quietly. “He’s angry with me. Please give him my thanks for the hospitality he’s shown me this week. I’ll be gone by 8:00 tomorrow.” You move to close the door when all three boys practically throw themselves in the way.
“Wait, that’s not what we meant!” Nirei’s eyes are the size of basketballs.
“Please don’t listen to anything Sakura is saying; he has a hard time empathizing with others.” Nirei nods enthusiastically in agreement with Suo, slapping a hand over Sakura’s mouth to prevent the boy from speaking. “Really, that’s not what we mean by saying you don’t need to study us anymore.”
“Umemiya wants you to take the day to rest,” Nirei explains quickly. “He doesn’t think you should be walking to and from the school on your injured ankle.” Your sadness is replaced with indignancy and you cross your arms over your chest.
“He couldn’t have told me this himself?”
“He would, but…” Nirei’s voice trails off and you catch Suo biting the inside of his cheek. Sakura’s the first to break the silence, peeling Nirei’s hand from his face.
“Umemiya and the upperclassmen have been beating the shit out of those hot pink assholes since last night.”
“It must’ve been pretty serious, since he didn’t even allow Suo or Sakura to go with them,” Nirei adds, “And they’re some of the best fighters in our class.”
“How long has he been out?”
“Hiragi said he called them late last night and a small team raided the hot pink team’s base.” That would mean Bofurin raided the base immediately after dropping you off. Why would he hide that from you? “Technically, he said not to tell you because he knew you’d panic,” Sakura continues. “So he sent us to tell you to take it easy. Don’t stab the messengers.”
“It’s ‘don’t shoot the messengers,’ Sakura,” Suo corrects and Sakura shrugs, indifferent.
“And we’re already as good as dead anyway,” Nirei says, his expression dropping. “We weren’t supposed to tell you that he’s been fighting those guys that hurt you.”
“It’s Sakura’s fault for yapping–”
“You wanna fight?”
“What’s done is done, little brothers.” You stiffen, blinking against the morning sun as Umemiya trudges into your vision. His handsome face has seen better days, small cuts and bruises littered all over his skin. He tossed his jacket over his shoulder, revealing the dirtied white shirt that wasn’t stained the previous evening. He rolls a broad shoulder and stretches his neck from side to side, his underclassmen scurrying away as he steps onto the welcome mat. “G’morning,” he greets in a tired voice. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Better late than never,” you deadpan, taking his hand and guiding him inside. “Thanks boys,” you call over your shoulder at the sheepish underclassmen. “I’ll take it from here,” you finish before shutting the door.
“Gotta say, this place looks better when my vision isn’t blurry,” Umemiya jokes with a wince, collapsing into a chair at the dining table. You ignore his attempt at humor, retrieving the first aid kit from the closet along with a rag that you soak with warm water. His eyes are on you as you move about; you feel his gaze burn into the back of your neck.
“If you weren’t already beaten to a pulp, I’d slap you,” you mumble, sitting across from him and gently patting the dried blood from his face.
“And I’d let you,” he manages to smile, never taking his attention away from you. You can’t tell if your face is hot from his intense stare or from the anger bubbling in your stomach. Scooting closer, you start work on the cut above his lip, just missing his nose. “You smell nice.”
“You need to stop talking.” His smile fades only slightly, his eyes ever watchful while you take care of his wounds. You hope he can’t tell how badly your hands are shaking as you tap antibiotic ointment onto his skin and cover it with a bandage.
“You’re upset with me,” he says carefully, observing the way you’re conveniently avoiding eye contact.
“You just figured that out?”
“You gonna tell me why, or are you just gonna keep scowling?”
“This is not how you usually do things,” you say through gritted teeth, gesturing to the evidence of fights all over his body. “You’re diplomatic. You’re understanding. You’re empathetic. You don’t…You don’t solve problems like this!” You don’t realize how loud your voice has become until you register the echo from the empty walls, nor do you realize that you were standing until his eyes were looking up at you.
“How do you know that I don’t do this?”
“Because I watched you this week and I know how you work.” You swallow thickly. “I don’t know why you’d break all of that just because of some hot pink bastards running around your–”
“I did it because of you,” he says. “I did it because they hurt you.”
“You didn’t need to do that, Hajime.” It’s the first time you’d used his first name and something flutters in Umemiya’s stomach. He can’t do anything but stare at you in awe, watching as your emotions start to escape down your face in wet streaks. His body moves on its own, reaching out to wipe your tears to the side and standing so that your chests are nearly touching. His voice is barely a murmur, reserved only for you to hear.
“You didn’t want me to do it?” Both your hearts are racing, slamming against your rib cages.
“If it meant you getting hurt like this, then no.”
“I’d put myself through much worse if it meant you were safe,” he whispers. In this proximity, your anger flies out the window, along with your good judgment. He was so close, you could just–
“What else would you do for me?” His eyelashes flutter against yours.
“Anything.” Umemiya thinks he has a broken rib from how little he can breathe.
“Show me.” It’s like a rubber band snaps between your bodies as he finally leans down to kiss you, molding himself so that you could perfectly melt against him. His grip on your waist is rock-solid, holding you close enough that you feel him shudder when you scratch against his undercut. The sound you make when he swipes his tongue against your bottom lip makes his head go completely empty, the same feeling happening for you when his fingers graze the spot where your neck meets your chin. He kisses you feverishly, refusing to let you breathe until you’re forced to pull away lest you completely lose consciousness.
“Do you always kiss the people you write about?” He winks at you and you roll your eyes, draping your arms over his shoulders.
“Only the ones I fall for,” you whisper back. “I’m still mad at you for ditching me this morning, though.”
“I sent your three favorite underclassmen instead,” he argues but you shake your head, a smile teasing your mouth. “Fine. How can I make it up to you?” You hum thoughtfully, blinking at him in a way that sent Umemiya’s mind into a frenzy.
“Kiss me again and we’ll call it even.”
“Whatever you say.”
— Day [???] of [???]:
He’s waiting for you when you step off the train, a dazzling smile on his face that grows when he sees the certificate awarded to you with your scholarship funds. A dozen captains dot the platform, diligently watching the back of their leader as he brings down every guard he has and catches you in his arms. After enduring Umemiya talking their ears off, the silence that falls over the area as you bask in each other’s presence is enough of a reason to switch formations, allowing you time alone with the one man who would put himself through hell if it meant you were still his.
if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
#windbreaker x you#windbreaker x reader#windbreaker x y/n#wind breaker x you#wind breaker x reader#wind breaker x y/n#umemiya x you#umemiya x reader#umemiya x y/n#umemiya hajime x you#umemiya hajime x reader#umemiya hajime x y/n#wind breaker fluff#wind breaker angst#umemiya fluff#umemiya angst
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Meet AG5
a/n: i got a request that I keep up with Ace as a driver so here is a little background:
How Ace is with the other drivers (including, Franco, Ollie, and Liam, Fred, Christian, and ToTo)
Charles: Ace and Charles are the closest on the grid by far. They grew up together -more like Ace following Charles and then Max around- and will forever be each others biggest supporters. Not even Max has anything on the Charles and Ace relationship.
Carlos: Ace and Carlos actually didn’t get along at first. Carlos and Ace almost took each other out in her first races and along with Lando falling for her while getting over Carlos moving to Ferrari he went into protective mode. It wasn’t until Ace and Lando joined him on the Singapore podium and Ace praised Carlos for his drive that they spoke in a less threatening manner. They quickly turned the best of friends and the trio is always seen with each other. He was also the first one to know about Ace and Lando.
Fred: They’re relationship is very much drunk uncle coded. It’s no surprise Fred wants Ace to join Ferrari. Every podium and/or win Fred is there spraying champagne on her. He sends her Ferrari merch every new collection they have as an on going joke.
Checo: Ace and Checo get along quite well. She was a RedBull Test and Reserve driver before she signed with McLaren. She drove Checo’s car more than she did Max’s so they bonded over how the car performed. They don’t talk much outside of the track, but his kids love her.
Max: Max and Ace are best friends, if you see them together, they’re most likely laughing or telling someone off. These two in a conference together??? Pray for the interviewer because if Ace learned anything from her time at RedBull it was Max’s attitude. This season has definitely strained their relationship. Despite Lando and Max fighting for the championship, Max has admitted that Ace is his biggest threat.
“Question for Max and Lando,” someone asked in the Singapore post-race conference. “With Ace coming off a win, and in 3rd place for the Drivers Championships, are either of you worried that she is also in the fight?”
“...I agree with Lando.” Max said, “I think Ace is a fabulous driver, and yes, the points between her and Lando are closer than me and Lando, and while it would be very hard for her to join the fight, it’s racing, and if she keeps winning when we cannot, then yeah it’s nerve-wracking. She becomes a big threat to not just Lando but to me as well. You can’t tell who your fighting when points are this close.”
Christian: This was one is tough. They used to get on great, but There were some comments made when Ace went to Mclaren that rubbed her the wrong way. ‘She should have stayed here as a Reserve driver with the way their season is going compared to ours but… she made her decisions and she’s got a seat, not much can be said after that.”
Lewis: Ace and Lewis bonded instantaneously. Everything came easy to their friendship, whether it was fashion, racing, lifestyle, or flying together everything was fun with them. But on the not so ponies and rainbows side of life, Lewis was the only person she could talk to about the racist comments. He walked her through it all, even representing her on his own helmet at one point in her first season. Lewis was as much her big brother as Charles. They definitely had many laughs when Lewis announced he was going to Ferrari. “Fred couldn’t have you so he signed me.” He would tell her.
George: Ace and George don’t talk as much as you would think. Yes they talk because of Lando and Lewis, and they are friends, but they realy just haven’t had the ‘out-of-track’ friendship that was as strong as the others. When things get controversial on track between one of them, the other is backing them up in their own interviews, by coincidence or not.
Toto: Toto is like a much calmer Fred. He see’s her alot because of Lewis and is genuinely just proud to see a woman on the grid. Susie is definitely behind alot of their interactions, not that Toto knows Ace knows that.
Daniel: Daniel and Ace are never up to any good, EVER. Those two in the same room?? Everyone is laughing and crying. They simply bring out the laughter and sunshine out of each other with no care for anything else in the world. There was never any bad blood from them even if Ace had essentially stollen his seat. Ace made an entire post for him when it was announced Singapore was his last race. Her and Lando sat with him for around an hour after that race. They also did a helmet swap and Ace has it displayed with her and Landos in their Monaco apartment.
Pierre: Pierre, Ace, and Charles. That’s it. That sums up their friendship. These two are the first to share gossip with each other, which ends up with them screaming at each other in French (excitedly)… everytime. Much to the dismay of the FIA.
In relation to everyone else on the grid, it’s more of a work friendship. She gets on well with everyone and everyone seems to love her.
Extras:
Ollie, Kimi, Franco, and Liam: Her friendship with Ollie was almost like having a son. Him and Kimi would always come find her when F2 was racing with them. Ace and Lando were the first ones to reach out to Franco when his seat was announced. He has openly said that they were his favourite drivers and it just made her feel nice that someone came in after her, and looked up to her. She doesn’t have much of a connection with Liam yet, as he’s only been in one official race weekend so far, but she definitely keeps an eye out for him whether he knows it or not.
if you want to be tagged/ keep up with Ace comment to join the Ace specific taglist!
#lando norris x reader#lando norris fluff#f1 fanfic#lando norris smut#lando norris x black!reader#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x driver!reader#f1 x reader#lando norris#charles leclerc series#carlos sainz x charles leclerc x reader#charlando#charlando x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc x black!reader#charlos x reader#charlos#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x alexandra saint mleux x reader#max verstappen x charles leclerc#max verstappen x reader x charles leclerc#original character#acesofspadess#ace giovanelli#AG5
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I think the things that offend me most nowadays in like, smaller interpersonal interactions rather than grand, sweeping trends in culture, are when people chose to not partake in a wide set of things. Like musical close mindedness, or refusal to try different foods from different cultures. Not watching an entire subset of films bc they’re ‘french’. Avoiding reading bc you say you have adhd and it’s too hard. Like dude I get it, I’m busy. I can be picky. Everyone can. But the willful ignorance of closing yourself off to those VAST portions of the human experience, and not having curiosity and a lust to learn and explore art that was made by someone worlds apart from you either in terms of their culture, era, whatever. I dunno man it just pisses me off so bad. I think it’s arrogant. Like oh you’re comfortable in your safe little bubble huh? And you’re enforcing its barriers with the excuse that you’re autistic and have sensory issues. With music made by black people?? lol okay. It is pretty presumptuous for me to assume malicious intent but I think those prejudices are borne from either the comfort of being someone who’s wealthy and probably white not feeling the need to learn past what they think is enough, or it’s a reflection of a society that’s taught you to prioritize what it shills— popular, current (white, depending where you live ig) artists who are making streamlined, easy to digest content. Often when I meet people with these issues they’ll have one particular ‘niche’, and it tends to be like. 70s music. Victorian literature. Anime and Japanese games. But they’re still not really investing beyond the media presented. Like there’s so much more to Japanese culture than liking some cartoons put out between 2010-2020. You don’t gotta become some sorta Einstein who learns the background of every little freak in FGO yeah. But don’t you wanna aim higher? Aren’t you interested in any of the historical figures? And nothings wrong with hopping onto a trend. You read Dracula bc of that Dracula daily thing. Cool! Read more. Some people will say they’re chronically ill or disabled and can’t get outside. That’s okay. The internet is full of things you can read other than fanfiction, YouTube has a shit ton of free music. There’s Wikipedia and free articles online if you have questions about things. Yeah nobody is spending four hours a day looking at the national archives website and studying art history but it’s imbued in the things around you, and youll absorb it ambiently as you go along. you dont have to be a jack of all trades and cover every major genre of every major medium, but it never hurts to try! I really love seeing ppl ask too. Bc it can be kind of humiliating to admit to what seems like some jackass hipster that you’ve never delved into, idk, Serbian films (lol not that one). And hopefully if whoever you’re asking will give you honest good recommendations and not berate you. I’m kind of berate a straw man rn I guess. The hostile tone def doesn’t lend to an atmosphere of sharing but I cannot tell you how many times I’ve rbed anything involving specifically jazz only to see someone rb and add the stupidest comment on the post, or in the tags, or go into my inbox to be like waaah I don’t like jazz bc it’s boring and old and for pretentious hypocrites who hate neurodivergent people! Like what are you TALKING about. Fine if you don’t like it but don’t try and rationalize that as a moral standing you shit lark. And just as they’re allowed to dislike jazz I’m allowed to not really enjoy people who don’t like jazz. Or country. Nautical knots. Knit wear. Watching urbex YouTubers get their shit rocked by squatters. Korean food. Pachuco fashion and stupid ugly low riders. Bollywood films. and they don’t want to try any of those things either yknow? The next thing I’m getting into is circuit bending.
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘 – GAVI
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8eef362583830530f0a560a796d80aee/d27a7c913181cdea-00/s540x810/397b6bf384ed82b10dc198533dd84a6debb53487.jpg)
warnings. p in v sex, public s3x (there’s no one around), jealous!gavi, & an annoying teammate
summary. academic rival!gavi makes sure you only have room for one nerd in your life
a/n. part two of comfort zone. tysm for the idea @gavisuntiedboot 🫶🏽
the sound of your professor’s voice filled the room as he explained your next assignment. you simultaneously put away your notes and listened carefully as this next project would be worth twenty percent of your grade. you were already laying out the details of your work as the professor continued to describe the assignment.
“there is one twist to this project. you’ll be working with a partner.” his words made you freeze. “and before you ask yes i will be choosing your partner for you.”
the room was filled with groans at his last comment, many of your classmates upset that they wouldn’t be working with their friends. meanwhile your eyes searched the room until they locked with a certain brunette. gavi had been looking forward to asking you to be his partner and now he was simply hoping the professor had decided to put you two together.
“mrs. y/l/n and mr. moretti you’ll be working together.” your professor says as he crushes gavi’s hopes and dreams.
franco moretti had arrived last semester from turin when his father took over as head of the marketing department for sevilla fc. he was also the teammate gavi despised the most due to them playing in the same position and because he would always insult him in words he didn’t understand. you scan the room to search for the argentine spotting him all the way at the end of the room looking at something else on his laptop. you sigh in frustration wondering if this project would be the reason your grade goes down.
as soon as class ends you make your way towards the blonde hoping to introduce yourself and get the project over with. he instantly notices you offering you one of his flirty smirks.
“bueno…” he starts. “we’re partners right?”
“uh, yeah. i just came to introduce myself-”
“i know who you are.” he interrupts you. “well i only know you’re like the smartest kid in our class.”
“i wouldn’t say that.” your cheeks heat up at his words.
“no need to be humble. your face along with his-” he points towards gavi. “is plastered all over the school. i’ve got to say i am very impressed by how you manage to do sports and somehow maintain your grades so high at the same time. but you probably just want to talk about our project.”
“uhm, thank you?” you can’t help but laugh at the interaction. “oh, yeah. i just wanted to ask if you have any certain topics you want to make our project about?”
“well i’ve got to get to practice in like five minutes or else coach will make me run five miles around the whole school. do you maybe want to meet up at the library later to discuss it? say around four?” he says as he packs up this things.
“yeah, that’s fine. i’ll see you there.” you smile awkwardly not sure if you should look forward to seeing him later or not.
you stay behind a couple of minutes going over some of your notes with the professor making sure you got everything right. you couldn’t afford to risk your spot in the rankings for a small error. grabbing your stuff you make way towards the library hoping to get some free time to study for your next psych exam before meeting up with franco. although, you don’t expect to find gavi waiting for you outside the door.
“he totally thinks you’re hot.” he simply blurts out.
“nice to see you too pablo.” you say sarcastically. “why are you blessing me with your presence today?”
“i bless you with my presence everyday.” he says as he begins following you to wherever it is you’re going. “so, you and franco…”
“me and franco aren’t even friends if that’s what you’re wondering.” you roll your eyes. “why do you even hate him so much?”
“i don’t hate him.” you simply stare at him. “okay maybe i do just a little but it’s reasonable.”
“you hate him because his dad works for sevilla and he’s slowly climbing up through the rankings. i’m not sure i would call that reasonable.” you say as you open the doors to the library. you’re grateful there’s barely anyone in there, you don’t enjoy being around large groups.
“whatever.” he huffs. “do you think he’s cute?”
you pause in your tracks turning towards gavi. the top button of his dress shirt unbuttoned and his red tie on the verge of coming loose. he looked quite good and a part of you just wanted to go home already.
“are you jealous pablito?” you tease him.
“me? jealous of a benchwarmer? please. not only am i better than him athletically but also academically. there’s no reason for me to be jealous.” he scoffs at the ridiculous idea.
“okay so you won’t have a problem with me studying with him later in here right? you totally didn’t follow me to the library just to make sure i didn’t find him attractive right?” you ask him as you press the button on the wall to get an elevator. you loved that each floor was dedicated to a different genre of books.
“why would i have a problem? i’m the only one making you cum anyways.” his words catch you off guard. you look around making sure no one else has heard him.
“pablo!” you hit his chest and you expect him to just laugh but he only stares at you. his eyes darker than before. he pulls you towards the end of the nonfiction section where there’s barely any light and a bunch of books that haven’t been read in years. how romantic.
“but maybe he’ll get lucky and you’ll spread your legs for him. give him a good view and everything.” he drags his hand to the middle of your legs opening up your legs.
you can feel his breath on your neck as he moves your hand from your thighs to your core teasing you. you completely forget where you are as he leaves love bites all over your neck. the pleasure intensifying as teases you by running his hands along your core but not getting them under your panties to touch you.
“and maybe he’ll hear those sinful noises you make as he drags his fingers along your folds.” you whine as pablo spreads your wetness around your folds with his fingers.
“but maybe you’ll be desperate to have him inside you to feel full again. so you’ll simply move these to the side.” he moves your panties to the side giving him full access to your dripping core. “and take him in you like the good girl you are.”
you help him undo his belt eager to have him fuck you already. his button down shirt losing some of its buttons in the process. the two of you so needy to finally come together like a puzzle to care about what happens next. he finally manages to pull out his hard aching dick out and he doesn’t waste another minute as he brings it to your needy hole.
“and then he’ll drag it along your folds teasing you even more. but after a couple of minutes he begins to insert himself until he fills you- oh fuck.” he groans as he enters you. “and your walls squeeze him as he pleasures you.”
“please pablo.” you beg him as one of your hands digs into his soft brown hair and the other into his shoulder at the feeling of his slow sensual thrusts.
“please what princess?” his voice sounds so out of breathe.
“faster please. fuck.” his length hits you in spots you didn’t know were possible. you can barely contain your moans and pablo simply hopes you get louder.
then you hear it the sound of the elevator doors opening for the end of the long hallway. you think you’re imagining it at first since pablo doesn’t notice it kissing you as he fucks you dumb. then you hear the loud footsteps and you panic they’re heading right towards the two of you.
“pablo. there’s someone here.” he can barely comprehend a word you’re saying as he watches how you take him so well. almost like your pussy was made just for him.
“pablo stop.” then he listens scared he crossed some boundaries and hurt you. he immediately steps away from you the two of you groaning at the loss of contact.
“fuck sorry. are you okay? did i-”
“no, you didn’t do anything wrong it’s okay. there’s someone here though. get dressed.” you say as you fix your hair and skirt.
meanwhile pablo isn’t so lucky and he can hardly button his pants when franco himself shows up. the argentine tries hardest to stop himself from laughing at his teammate but he barely can as he looks at pablo’s disheveled hair. although, you look perfectly fine so he tries to figure out why pablo looks so messy.
“bro you look like you got dressed in the dark what happened?” franco stifles a laugh.
“caught him getting frisky with one of the librarians.” you blurt out wanting to tease him.
“no way? but they’re all over thirty- oh don’t tell me you’re into milfs. kinky shit bro.” franco somehow believes your lie.
“fuck you.” gavi directs at you before being invaded by his teammate with more questions.
the next couple of minutes gavi tries his best to get his teammate to shut up and convince him that you were lying. that he simply had fallen asleep during class because he’d already studied the topic at home which was quite believable. the three of you chatted before gavi had to make his way towards the field to make up for missing practice earlier. although he spends all five miles grinning like a little shit because he’d be willing to run them all over again as long as it meant getting franco the furthest away from you. he was hoping you’d only have time for one academically gifted athlete.
#franco 🤝🏽 me: saying bro every five seconds#academic rival!gavi#pablo gavi x reader#gavi x reader#pablo gavi smut#gavi smut#football imagine#football smut#gabri writes
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[MK X READER] New Era - Chapter .004
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Note: I often try to plan out plot points while I’m at work, and I was like wow! I get why Kronika went insane because trying to keep all these plot points (especially the parts where I plan on diverging from canon) logical is wild.
This is the first chapter that doesn’t follow any of the main campaign events at all, so it was a bit more of a struggle to write for, but I hope you enjoy it regardless! There will be more chapters of this, building up the much needed foundation for the champions squad. Don’t worry Lin Kuei fans, there will be a few more Lin Kuei moments too during these times, allowing us to see them again before they disappear for a while during the tournament arc!
Shang Tsung deliberation is up until a week from when chapter 3 was released/aka when the tumblr poll ends.
Otherwise, I will accept any wants for any other love interests until we get closer towards the Outworld arc since I’m pretty sure all Earthrealm men are already confirmed.
For example, someone asked for Reiko, so here’s a poll for him to gauge interest, AO3 fans, please comment on your thoughts for him!
FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO HELPED TRAIN SOME NEW CHAMPIONS
Turns out, thinking about the things that worried you leads to overthinking.
Pacing back and forth in your room, you felt the cool wood under your feet. With how much you paced around the room, you were surprised the wood had not been ruined at this point. You paused in your pacing and you looked outside the window to look at the moon.
You were never a good sleeper, finding it hard to sleep at night. But oddly enough you always found yourself awake for the sunrise due to routine. You often found naps were a good supplement for your tiredness, but some days you would suffer being awake without much rest.
Your memories buzzed around your head too much to rest easy. You paced back and forth once more for a few more minutes until you stopped at the door of your room, briefly considering going and seeing whether Liu Kang could help ease your troubled mind.
Your hand laid upon the handle, the metal knob cool to the touch. Goosebumps trailed up your arm as you stared at the doorknob. You tried to will yourself to move. To finally speak with Liu Kang about the memories that weighed upon you, to free yourself of this silly burn that you brought about upon yourself.
Unfortunately, you could not bring yourself to step outside your door.
You were too racked with guilt to do that.
You were afraid of the idea that you would slip up and mention the many other memories you had recovered, the timeline you were beginning to piece together, and Liu Kang would begin to realize this. You were afraid of upsetting the man who most generously took you in and allowed you to stay by his side despite your odd past.
You did not want to ruin the good thing you had going for yourself.
Your hand dropped from the doorknob. Sighing, you walked over to a particular floorboard and carefully lifted it up. You reached inside and pulled out the leather bound diary that you had found on yourself when you first awoke in this world. Along with it was a pen that somehow, despite the years, had not run out of its smooth ink.
This was your only confidant in the memories you had. Moving towards your desk, you adjusted the lantern in your room to hang over the desk, giving you more light to work with. You stared at your words, trying to look at what you recalled.
Your memories seemed to be linked with those you interacted with, so the Lin Kuei and Liu Kang and the memories surrounding them were the strongest. Even still, you had holes in what should be completed memories. Meeting the new people seemed to patch some of them up, though.
You sighed as you skimmed the pages. They were mostly short phrases describing what you remembered from these brief memories. It was hard to keep them in order since they were random and never in order whenever you got them.
You picked up the pen, spinning it with a flourish before you began to write.
Kung Lao, a cocky monk of the Shaolin with a razor hat. Once was friends with Liu Kang. Seems now he is a farmer and friends with Raiden.
Raiden, Thunder god. Seems to have once been what Liu Kang is now. Mortal now, and a farmer of Fengjian with Kung Lao.
Johnny Cage, actor. Was with Sonya Blade and had a kid. Still an actor, has a different wife, and no kid.
Kenshi Takahashi, once a blind swordsman with telekinesis and telepathy with a magic sword. Had a kid. Now seems that he has his vision, uncertain of abilities.
You sighed as you put down your pen, staring at the words in front of you. You tried to will yourself to conjure any memories you had of these men previously from just their name. Unfortunately, this just gave you a headache…and not the kind that gave you any helpful memories.
“Damn.” You muttered leaning back in your chair. You had never had control of your memories, even after all these years. They were rather inconvenient and useless, since they rarely gave you any insight on the ones you meet. They’re all so different.
The only constant was their names.
You closed your eyes as you thought of the four men you had written down. Who were they? What was their connection to you? You sighed as you rubbed your forehead, trying to ease the headache you had accidentally given yourself.
Ah shit, you were in charge of training them, weren’t you? Or at least, somewhat.
They were going to be a headache in more ways than one, it seemed.
“So, how, exactly, am I to train the four?” You inquire as you glance over to Liu Kang, briefly noting the way the sunlight landed on his features. It was another morning of watching the sunrise with the fire god. You had gotten a few hours of sleep, at least, before rising to meet up with Liu Kang as usual. A few hours was better than nothing.
You had started off quiet, before natural conversation hit the both of you. You discussed many things, mostly the events of the past few days, before the conversation naturally landed on the new recruits. You found out that they were going to be arriving at the Wu Shi academy in a few days time, giving them enough time to get their life sorted out before they drastically change theirs.
The god looked over to you. It seemed like he had been expecting this question, and you wondered just how easily he could read you.
“You are to simply oversee their training and test their skill. I know you are not all too familiar with the teaching of the monks, so they shall handle the bulk of it.” He explained, and you found yourself sighing with relief. “Not to mention, I shall also assist when I am able.” You were not ready to have to handle training four grown men, so hearing that you were mostly there to test them was great.
You were good at fighting, at least. It was a skill that people often commended you for.
Madam Bo often praised you as one of the best she had sparred with. The old Lin Kuei’s grandmaster often found value in the practice you gave his sons. You would never admit it, but you prided yourself on these compliments.
“That’s good.” You remarked, feeling your shoulders relax. You returned your gaze to the rising sun and the pretty colors that were painted in the sky. You paused, deliberating over the next words that were to leave your mouth. “Why me?” You asked, your voice almost shy. That question had been haunting you ever since you found out about this arrangement back in Fengjian.
“Because I can trust you.” Liu Kang began, his voice filled with certainty. You felt a pang of guilt, your gaze dropping to your hands. Your mind screamed with how you were unworthy of his trust with the memories you found yourself unable to confide in him with. “And I know you will provide a healthy challenge to them.” You chuckled at his words, pushing out the voice that whispered in your head.
“Why are we recruiting these people so late?” You inquired, asking another question that had been bugging you for a while now. You were glad that Liu Kang was a benevolent god, and never seemed to mind your questions. “Would it not be more wise to recruit them earlier since the tournament is mere months away?”
“Had we sought them before, none of them would be ready.” Liu Kang answered wisely, and you hummed. You knew better than to ask how he knew this, despite the years together there were some things you knew he kept secret, and his innate knowledge was one of those things. You supposed it was just a godly thing.. “It is only until now that an opportunity presented itself.”
“And so you decided that I was one of the best options to train them within a few months?”
“Indeed.”
“You have a lot of confidence in me, Liu Kang.”
“Should I not?” The god questioned. The tone in his voice surprised you, and you looked over to him instinctively. You were surprised to see such a strong look of confidence on his face. Gently, he put a hand on your shoulder. His thumb rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. Through your clothes and his hand wraps, you felt the comfort of his warmth.
“No, you should.” You said, your voice filled with a bit more confidence. You looked at his face, feeling oddly proud of yourself to have earned the god’s confidence. He nodded, seeming content with the shift in your attitude. “I shall do my best.” You said, bowing for the man.
“I know you will.”
“How are you boys doing?”
Striding into the courtyard of the Wu Shi academy, you looked at the four recruits. You noted how each of them wore the uniform, and how it all seemed to fit them, more or less. You walked with confidence in front of them, imbued with the words you had been given before from Liu Kang.
All of them were various degrees of exhaustion. Not surprisingly, the actor seemed to be having it the roughest. He was still fine, but it was easy to tell he was the most winded out of the four. You assumed his luxurious lifestyle had something to do with it.
You sucked in a breath as you fought the massive headache these four were giving you. Being stuck with overseeing their training, you assumed you’d be having this feeling a lot. It was no matter, you’d simply sleep it off right now.
Strangely enough, despite the intensity of the headache, you were unable to glean any memories easily. Probably something to do with so many people trying to resurface at once.
“Training has been rigorous, but enlightening.” Raiden replied, his face flush from exertion, and you noted how out of the four he was one of the ones faring a bit better. You assumed it was because he wasn’t underestimating the monks’ intense lessons. You smiled at him, nodding.
“Good, as it should be.” You said, humming as you clasped your hands behind your back, observing them all. Despite their tired state, you could tell they were at least eager. “As Lord Liu Kang has said, I will be partially in charge of your training.” You grinned at them, seeing them perk up at your words. “Today will be a…benchmark to see where your skills lie.”
“Who exactly are you again?” Johnny asked, still hunched over slightly, hands on his knees as he looked up at you. You saw the slight glares from the others, probably because they saw his words rude. He put up his hands defensively. “Hey, I didn’t get a proper introduction like you guys did.” He defended himself.
“Don’t worry, I don’t take offense.” You chuckled, shaking your head. You said your name, clearly and loudly so the others made sure what it was. “I’m a companion of Lord Liu Kang, and he has entrusted me with overseeing your training.” You explained before clearing your throat. “I’m not one for lectures, so I’ll get right to it, who wishes to go first?”
The four looked amongst themselves, seeming to deliberate amongst themselves silently on who would face this challenger they’ve never seen fight. You let out a silent chuckle, wondering how they sized you up. Eventually, you watched as Kung Lao strode up to take the challenge.
“Let me show the others how it’s done.” He declared, seeming confident. You saw the small smirk on his lips, and in return you smiled graciously at him. You gestured for the others to step to the side, and you watched as a few of the monks gathered around to watch. The monks were no stranger to your fighting prowess.
“Bold.” You commended, nodding as you walked into place with Kung Lao, settling into the all too familiar fighting pose that you were familiar with. You watched as he mimicked your actions, settling into his as well. “Now, allow me to show you why I was entrusted with this task.”
You watched as Kung Lao approached, confidence in his strides. Almost too confident. You held a defensive position. The point of this test was to gauge their abilities, so acting on the defensive first would allow you to see what their confidence and skills on the offense were like.
As he swung the first punch, you blocked it with ease. You supposed it was a bit unfair, having already known what Kung Lao’s fighting style was like after watching him in the teahouse along with the bits of memories you had of him. You allowed him to attempt to break your defense more, noting how he had a strong emphasis on his punches with their quick nature.
You had to commend him on his confidence, he knew he was a strong fighter. The farmer had a lot of potential.
It wasn’t until his major slip up with throwing a rather risky punch that you decided that it was time to go on the offensive. Ducking under the move, you went for a sweep, knocking the man off his feet. You waited until he got back up before you grabbed him. Taking him off his guard, you brought him close as you winded your leg back.
As you sent the kick flying into his stomach, you transformed your leg into that of a secretary bird’s, allowing you to put even more power than you would have normally.
“Holy shit!”
You disregarded the actor’s exclaim as you watched Kung Lao fly back, tumbling from the strike. As he stumbled up, he seemed surprised before hesitantly approaching once more. This time, he utilized more caution as he swung at you, trying to even employ the technique of grabbing you like you had. Easily you shoved him back, retaliating by whirling around and transforming yourself to have a kangaroo’s tail which you swung at him with.
This back and forth went on for a bit, with Kung Lao being easily fended off by you before he eventually conceded, calling for surrender.
“You fight well.” You commend, bowing towards Kung Lao. He did the same as he panted, nodding as he caught his breath. You stood up to look at him as he gestured towards you, a look of awe on his face.
“I am amazed at your transformation skills.” The farmer admitted, looking at you up and down with amazement as he continued to catch his breath. “Is it possible to learn that?” He asked, almost too eagerly as he walked over to the side to rest up.
“It is a skill I was born with, so unfortunately I cannot teach you.” You told him, grinning as you held out your arm to transform it into a bear’s with its claws out. “I have the ability to transform any part of my body, and all of me, into an animal.” You explained as you transformed your arm back as easily as you had changed it.
“Now, who is next?”
You causally stood there, only having barely broken a sweat as they stood to the side, catching their breath. A pleased look appeared on your face as you crossed your arms, noting how they each fought. Today you had gone easy on them, being more defensive than your usual aggressive fighting style. You surmised they’d only have a few bruises each because of this. You tried to stay away from anything that would rip and tear.
Honestly, your memories had been helpful for once. They helped clue you in on the fighting style of each man, the odd exception being Raiden who felt pretty different than the man you remembered. It was nice to know what to expect, unlike the first time you had fought the Lin Kuei in training…
Kung Lao had been interesting, being the most confident in his strikes and fighting style. That matched with his speed allowed you to see where he truly shone in his fighting. Taking defense against him was a challenge due to how swiftly he struck, but being able to defend well proved useful as you could counter him when he was left vulnerable after a failed attempt at breaking your defense.
You hummed, recalling how this version of the man lacked the iconic razor hat you remembered. You wondered briefly if you should suggest it to him, or if it’d be odd. You also noticed how despite his confidence in this life, he was at least a bit more humble than when you remembered him last.
Johnny Cage had been unique, his fighting style more flashy and all in than what you were used to. It felt like it should be impractical from just watching it, but the man made it work somehow. He also had interesting evasion, which almost took you off guard. You think you could definitely work with it, especially teaching him how to better evade the opponent since he seemed to grasp that concept well already.
Your eyes looked over to Kenshi. Kenshi had been odd to train with since he wielded a sword, and it felt like he had the most experience in fighting. Your eyes trailed down to his hands, noting the tattoos that littered his hands. You remembered how Liu Kang had briefed you in on his past. A yakuza…that explains the calculated way he fought.
You wondered if you’d ever have to deal with the telekinesis you remembered he had in his past life.
Raiden had been the most different from his past life. In both his fighting since he lacked the lightning powers you remembered so strongly, and how he carried himself. He was not as confident as you hoped, despite the obvious skill he had.
You’d have to work on that with him.
“Excellent work for day one with me.” You congratulated, causing the four men to look at you with varying degrees of confusion. You guessed they thought they had done not so well due to how you had battled them off easily. “As I said, this is a benchmark, so I know now how to best advise where to take your training, especially since the tournament is mere months away.”
“That was a benchmark?” Johnny Cage asked, sending you a disbelieving look. He had been one of the ones you had ended up fighting the most before he conceded. He had been stubborn against you, and you don’t know whether that was foolish or something to be commended for. Maybe it was both. “You kicked our asses.” You chuckled as you grinned at him.
“Did you expect anything less from someone who is allowed to stand by the Fire God’s side?” You asked, a hint of playfulness in your tone before you observed them once again. “We’ll meet again tomorrow after your training with the monks. For now, you are all dismissed.” You said, bowing towards them, your hands forming a fist into your palm similarly to how Liu Kang does.
You turned around, intending to go back to the Fire Temple for a well deserved nap, especially since the headache was getting nearly unbearable at this rate. Then, you heard your name being called. Turning around with a raised eyebrow, you watched as Johnny jogged to catch up with you.
Your head pounded as he neared, but you at least felt some relief as you felt a few more memories resurface.
You recalled how he had been very, very arrogant as a younger man. He had brazenly had his name tattooed across his chest, and for a moment you allowed your head to dip to his chest, curious if he still had it in this life. Somewhere, after what you could only remember a big event as a tragedy, you remembered he mellowed out.
You wondered how this one’s attitude laid on those scales.
“You know, you’d be a hit in Hollywood.” He told you, his breath still heavy with exertion. You raised an eyebrow, surprised at his words. You weren’t all too familiar with what he was talking about, but you assumed it had to do with his acting background which you vaguely remembered.
“Really?” You asked, holding back a chuckle as you looked at him with amusement. Even across the world, he was still thinking about his acting career. “What makes you say that?” You inquire, deciding to entertain his thoughts.
“People dig animals,” The actor started off, gesturing to you, “and not to mention how much you’d be valued there for being able to act as any animal?” He continued, acting as if he were trying to sell you on the offer. “Directors would be hitting you up left and right.” You felt yourself grin a bit more at his praise, but reminded yourself not to get caught up in his flattery.
“Are you implying I’d only be adored for my animal side? And not my own charisma?” You asked with faux offense, deciding to try and tease Johnny. You were surprised how he didn’t even flinch at your words and smoothly replied.
“Nah, you got that and more.” The actor admitted, shrugging as he pointed at you. “but it’s not often people meet an animal shapeshifter.” He pointed out with a nod, making you nod. “So if anything is your claim to fame, it’s that.”
“You’re interesting, Cage.”
“So I’ve been told.” The man replied wittily as he grinned at you, eagerness shining in his eyes. “So, you interested in becoming a star after all this blows over?” It was an innocent seeming question, but you narrowed your eyes, not certain on the intention of the question.
“Why are you so interested in my career path?” You inquired, your tone a touch more serious. You glanced over to see where the others had gone. All gone. No one to save you from this man’s questions. You crossed your arms as you gazed at him with skepticism.
You were hit with a wave of nostalgia as your mind reminded you all of a sudden how he had offered a similar gig in your past life.
Some things never change.
“Listen, I talked with Liu Kang, this shit has movie written all over it.” Johnny Cage decided to be a bit more transparent with you. You raised an eyebrow, and gestured for him to go on. “I think if what he says is true, I can make a box office hit!” He gestured towards you eagerly. “And I think you have what would make this movie superb, my friend.”
“Interesting…I’ll have to pass though.” You said, shutting him down. You watched as his glee dropped a bit, and you started to walk off. You were surprised as he still walked over to try and cut you off.
“Come on, hear me out-”
“Not right now, Cage.” You replied, putting a hand up to silence him. He huffed and you could tell he held back rolling his eyes. You sent him an unamused look. “Perhaps focus on your training first, then we can discuss it.” He perked up, and you decided it was best to start to walk off before he can try and talk to you about his movie shenanigans again.
“Really!?”
It was another sleepless night.
Sighing, you swung your legs over the side of the mattress as you sat up. Perhaps you should stop trying to take naps and fight through the sleepiness so you can actually sleep at night for once. You sigh as you slump over, rubbing your eyes.
You should go outside, maybe do something productive. It’s been a few days in a row of this, you had to try something.
Not knowing exactly what to do, you followed your sense of wanderlust. You left your room, down the halls and out the building. From there, you left and found yourself standing at the entrance of the Fire Temple. You hesitated as you stepped out onto the dirt path, hearing the rocks crunch beneath your feet.
You’ve never left in the middle of the night.
It’s not like you had a curfew, or that you had any promise to stay inside the Fire Temple at night. Far from it, you remembered how Liu Kang told you that you were allowed to come and go as you pleased. That was long ago. You never thought much of his words, thinking you would never stray far.
You wouldn’t, but you figured there was no harm in going and walking off your restless energy instead of staying cooped up within the Fire Temple.
With a burst of anxiety and what you could barely consider courage, you walked on. You followed what felt like an invisible trail, until you found yourself standing in front of the Wu Shi academy.
Strange, but you supposed maybe you could train. Walking carefully into the academy, you made sure to be quiet, as to not disturb the monks with any noise near their sleeping quarters. You found yourself making your way towards the training grounds where you were surprised to hear the faint noise of training.
Transforming your ears into bat ears, you tried to hone in on the sounds. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood still, trying to make sure the person was not a threat, and if you could recognize them. You blinked as you suddenly came to a realization.
You walked quietly, making sure to follow the lessons Madam Bo and Bi-Han had pushed onto you to remain quiet and stealthy. Be stealthful as the night, and as deadly as the dawn. You peered from around a pillar, and spotted the person standing there alone, and you confirmed your suspicions.
It was Raiden.
You watched for a few minutes, changing your eyes to those of owl eyes to see better in the dark, to better observe. He was going over the basics, ever diligently. You pursed your lips, raising an eyebrow. You had thought he had been more…feeble, being more reserved than Kung Lao. And yet, he was here, training in the dead of night.
What a peculiar man.
After a few more minutes, you watched as he made a critical error in his form. He didn’t seem to notice, and you sighed. He kept on training, repeating the error. You cringed. That was going to form a nasty habit, and if you were to be the mentor Liu Kang trusted you to be, you couldn’t let that happen.
Moving out of position, you slinked closer towards him, stopping to lean against a pillar that was only a few feet away from him. You changed your eyes back, letting your eyesight return back to normal. You felt the all too familiar feeling of the headache return, and you grimaced.
Your memories for Raiden were confusing. He was like a completely different man in almost every way. If your memories didn’t trigger in such specific ways, you wouldn’t believe the man that appeared in your head was the same one that was training in front of you.
Maybe because he wasn’t the same man.
“You’re doing it wrong.” You spoke, your voice ringing clear in the quiet courtyard. You watched as Raiden jolted from surprise, stumbling as he whirled around in a fighting stance to face you. You smiled at him as you held your hands up. “Relax, Raiden.” You said softly, to try and calm him down from the sudden shock.
“Why are you…?” Raiden began, eyes wide in confusion as he stared at you, not processing the situation quickly. He swallowed as he tilted his head, mouth open as he tried to muster up the words to speak. You brushed off his confusion, gesturing to his stance.
“Your form was off.” You comment, gesturing to his body and pointing towards where he exactly had been incorrect. “You were practicing with it being wrong. That’ll be bad practice for you.” You point out. You watched as he tried to correct his form, and you hummed, gesturing to instruct him on how to fix it. As he finally shifted back into a proper stance, you nodded. “Better.”
“Um…thank you.” The farmer boy said, his awkward feeling at the situation obvious. Not only did it show on his body language, but it was shown plainly on his face. You had a feeling this man couldn’t obscure his feelings for the life of him.
It was good to be honest, but you were worried it might work against him.
“I have trouble sleeping at night.” You explained, crossing your arms as you sighed. Your eyes looked down at the ground as you noted how the moonlight fell and illuminated the area around you two. “I decided to go on a walk and wound up here. I thought it might be nice to try and train, then I saw you out here.” You looked up, and gestured to him.
“Oh.” Raiden said after a few moments of silence. His face flushed as he put two and two together that you were asking for him to explain why he was there too. “I…uh, couldn’t sleep.” He admitted, looking down to the ground in defeat. “It’s different here than in Fengjian.”
Ah. Homesickness.
“I see, so you decided to try and train and work off your restlessness?” You inquired, tilting your head as you tried to gauge his reaction. He paused, considering your words for a moment, before nodding hesitantly.
“A bit.” He said, nodding his head. “But I was also thinking about our sparring today.” The farmer admitted. You blinked in surprise, and nodded, wanting him to go on. “I just wanted to go over what the monks taught us today, so next time I would fare better against you.”
How humble and sweet.
“While I admire your determination, there’s two problems.” You said as you kicked off the pillar you had been leaning against. You strode over to stand closer to Raiden, gesturing to him. “One, you must be diligent in your forms. Practice without purpose only builds bad habits.” He nodded eagerly, seeming to take your words seriously. “Second, there is a thing such as over practicing.”
“I see.” Raiden said, letting your words sink in as he nodded. He stared at you with a mixture of admiration and attentiveness, and you smiled. Quickly, he bowed in appreciation. “I’ll keep this in mind, thank you.”
“No problem, what kind of mentor would I be if I let you practice such horrible habits?” You inquired, crossing your arms. You observed the man a few moments more, and you sensed that neither one of you were quite tired enough to go to bed. “I have a feeling neither one of us is ready to sleep, would you like me to run you through the forms again?”
“Yes please!”
Maybe you were cut out for this after all.
part five
#mortal kombat x reader#kung lao x reader#liu kang x reader#reptile x reader#smoke x reader#sub zero x reader#scorpion x reader#bi han#liu kang#raiden x reader#johnny cage x reader#johnny cage#tomas vrbada#kenshi x reader#syzoth#mortal kombat#mortal kombat 1#mk1#fanfiction#mk1 x reader#mk x reader#shang tsung x reader#shang tsung#mileena x reader#kitana x reader#syzoth x reader#ashrah x reader#havik x reader#rain x reader
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a wrap on the bodyguard
this is a really bittersweet moment for me. i've been trying to find the words to really capture how i've been feeling about this whole thing, and I don't know if these are even enough to fully express it, but i've been sitting with this for a few days since posting the final chapter and watching y'all respond to it, and they feel right in this moment
when I first got the request for bodyguard frank, I had no idea it would turn into what it did. it never would’ve been possible without kate, whom I am immensely grateful for and forever indebted to, who gave me the gift of this incredible idea, and her wonderful friendship
even when so many of you asked for a part 2, I didn’t think it would go beyond that. but this very quickly became a passion project for me that I spent over a year and a half on, spanned 26 chapters, and is made up of roughly 130k words. it challenged me to step outside my comfort zone, and showed me I could do something I didn’t think I was capable of
to all of you who took the time to read this series, whether you kept up with it from the beginning, or you just recently found it and binged, to all of you who interacted with it and me in any way, from the bottom of my heart, genuinely and sincerely, thank you. you don’t know how much it meant to me. every single one of y'all have helped me to become a better writer and gave me more confidence in myself, and showed me to grant myself more grace when it came to being overly self-critical
I have loved books since I was a shy kid who struggled to make friends, whose only way of traveling and meeting new people sometimes was in those books, and being an author and creating that feeling for someone else has always been a dream. because of y’all, that dream has come true. I looked forward to seeing the reactions and comments and feedback from every single one of y’all every single time, and getting to watch y’all fall in love with something I created was such an incredible experience
if you’re looking for your sign to start that project or post that thing you did, do it. creating is hard, and sharing it with the world is scary, but it is such a rewarding thing, and you never know what it could turn into
I am so unbelievably honored and overwhelmed and blown away by the kindness and love y’all have shown this story, and me. I am so happy it brought so many of y’all to me, and that it’s created friendships I cherish so much. this story was a gift to me that I feel so lucky to share with all of y’all. so please, enjoy it as much as you like, it’s yours
with all the love in my heart,
court 🖤
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Fake Dating, Sunflower - Jack Hughes
Summary: When Jack is tired of his friends' comments about him never having a girlfriend and asks his best friend to be his fake date for a week.
Words: 5,5 K
Winter made New Jersey beautiful, and you were grateful you'd picked a coat warm enough to handle the cold. The icy wind was cut as soon as you entered the great arena, hearing the sound of blades cutting the ice from afar.
Jack waved at you as soon as he saw you, heading towards one of the ice exits to greet you with a awkward hug over the top of the bleachers.
“Too cold outside?” he said with a big smile, his cheeks slightly red.
"Only to the point of making me freeze."
"Twenty more minutes of training and I'm good to go"
“Don't worry, I brought company” the book Pride and Prejudice was present in your backpack.
Practice lasted another half hour, but you didn't care. How could you, considering you was tucked away from the cold, with a wonderful book in hand and hot tea served by a kindly woman.
Many of the players had already left when Jack arrived. He wore a heavy jacket over his suit. With the points of his hair still wet from shower, he made sure to shake his head as soon as he was close enough.
“I could kill you right now” you said drying the cover of your book.
“You couldn’t, who would offer you a ride home?”
“I'm sure I would find someone. Ready to go?"
"Clear. Some boys are going to go to that pub at the end of the street. If you want".
“I think it's the least for wetting my book” you walked towards the exit.
“Just a few drops” he positioned himself in front of the door, holding the handle “ready?”
“Arg. Yes” with the hood over your head and holding your breath, you surrendered leaving the warm comfort of the arena, with Jack accompanying you while laughing.
The pub was busy, and Jack guided you to the back, where Nico and other teammates were.
“Yn! Good to see you” you greeted everyone and sat down next to Jack.
“Fries for you?” you nodded in agreement.
You and Jack met about a year ago.
You were trying to make your ex boyfriend jealous and a lonely handsome boy sitting at the bar seemed perfect. You shared your plan and Jack accepted because he thought it would be fun. But at the end of the night, your goal had been achieved, but you didn't even remember it after so long talking to Jack. It turned out that you had a lot in common, both of you having a big family, your connection to hockey - your two younger brothers were in the junior league and were obsessed with your friend - among many other things.
You became friends that day and that friendship has only grown over the months. And although many people hinted at things, it was really friendship.
I mean, you've already found yourself imagining what it would be like if that happened, but you were too focused on college to think about it and, well, if Jack wanted something, he would have dropped a hint after all this time, right?
The conversation at the table was lively, and you already knew the players long enough to be able to interact with everyone, the quietest one, however, was your best friend.
Jack snorted for the third time as he looked at his phone and then put it in his pocket angrily.
“Okay, want to tell me what's going on?”
He snorted once more and you rolled your eyes.
"I'm meeting the boys at the lake house this weekend"
“You guys are crazy to go there in this cold” you said imagining all that cold water, getting a stern look from Jack “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, keep going honey why are you mad?”
He pressed his lips together and let out a “it’s humiliating” sigh.
“I already took care of you while drunk, I think I can handle it” you shrugged.
“Well, last time we were there, the boys were talking about girls they get with and...”
“I don’t know if I want to hear this”
“No, not like that,” he said quickly, “they talk about the girls they've dated, they've all had at least one girlfriend, and Brock manages to put together a whole line of hockey with exes. Meanwhile, I stayed there just existing” he let out a sigh.
“Even Luke! My little brother Luke once had a girlfriend! Okay that lasted a month, but still. Do you think there's something wrong with me?"
The question caught you off guard “Of course no Jack! It's okay that you've never had a girlfriend, you're still young!"
“You're younger than me and you also had a boyfriend” he looked at you from the corner of his eye.
“And I ended up with a pair of horns on my head” you shrug making him laugh “it's not a problem that you've never dated Jack, you just haven't found the right person yet” you said sincerely, stroking his arm. Your eyes stayed locked on his for a few seconds, until Nico, who was sitting in front of you, and apparently listening to the whole conversation, decided to speak up.
“Why don't you take a fake girlfriend?”
"What?" you spoke in unison.
“Yeah, take someone, tell them you've been with her for like two or three months and they stop bothering you” he shrugged.
“They are my best friends and two of them my brothers, do you think they wouldn't notice if I had a girlfriend? And two months? I clearly would have said something by now.” Jack leaned his elbows on the table.
“So you say it was more recent. About a month ago, you fell in love with a friend and boom” Nico made an explosion noise.
“Boom?” you couldn't hold back your laughter.
“Come on, are you going to tell me that lately you haven't mentioned any friends to them? Someone they haven't met yet who would surely believe you fell head over heels in love with her because she's beautiful.” Nico also leaned his elbows on the table with a sneaky look.
Your attention on the conversation was being shared with your delicious orange juice and you only realized that something was going on when you looked up and the two boys were looking at you “what is it?”.
"You could be my fake girlfriend" Jack spoke a little clouded.
"What??" you dropped the juice on the table.
“It would be perfect! I already mentioned Yn to the boys, but they never got to know each other!” Jack turned to Nico.
“Today is still Wednesday, you can say something like I have a surprise for you at the weekend and when you get there, boom!!” Nico was excited.
“Aren't you forgetting something?” you stared at the two of them as if they were crazy.
“The details of how you fell in love can be discussed by then” Nico apparently felt very proud of the plan.
“You can't be serious” You grabbed Jack's arm and he had a grin from ear to ear.
"Please"
"No?"
“Little please with many hearts”
"No yet"
“Come on, you owe me a fake date” he arched his eyebrows making you roll your eyes.
You pondered. A trip would be a great distraction, you enjoyed Jack's company and always wanted to meet his brothers. However, you knew that something like that could scramble feelings that you never considered and the idea of losing your best friend scared you.
“Okay” you say in defeat, receiving a tight hug from Jack, while Nico smiles victoriously across the table.
*
“Don't forget to grab bikinis” Jack's voice rang loudly in your apartment as you went through your suitcase.
“Bikinis? In this cold? Are we going to another hemisphere without my knowing?”
He rolled his eyes, leaning against the doorframe "the house has a jacuzzi, it's fun"
“Okay, bikinis...” you turned to the wardrobe.
“Get a nice one”.
“Get out of my room” he raised his hands in surrender and walked back.
The bags were already being loaded into the car when you started wringing your hands. Three days ago Jack had asked you to be his fake girlfriend in front of his friends and brothers for an entire weekend, and you'd be lying if you said you slept soundly all night.
Jack eyed the trunk, satisfied with his meticulous packing, but his smile faded when he saw how nervous you were.
He approached slowly, holding your hands close to his chest "you can quit if you want".
"What?" you answered too quickly and Jack's smile faded a little more.
“You can quit. Sorry if you felt pressured to do this. I don't want a fake girlfriend if my best friend is going to start hating me” he gave a small smirk and you took a deep breath.
“I would never hate you” you said sincerely “and I won't give up!! And I promise I'll be the best fake girlfriend you'll ever have!!!"
Jack's smile came back bright as you took a deep confident breath with a giant grin.
“You are without a doubt the best friend in the world” he said, and you hated yourself for feeling your smile fall a little.
*
The sun was at its peak when you and Jack arrived at the house. The weather was still freezing, but not as cold as Jersey. Your eyes circled the place enchanted by every detail. He'd already shown you pictures of the place, but in person, it looked even more fun.
"What do you think?"
“It's prettier than the pictures” you said with a smile still admiring the place.
Jack carried your bags inside and you followed him down the many corridors “the boys must have taken the boat out, come on, let's put the bags in the room”.
The room was on the second floor, and had access to a small balcony. The walls were blue and scattered with photos, mostly of Jack. Him with his friends, playing hockey, with his family and...
“Do you have a picture of us?” a small Polaroid you didn't even remember taking off was stuck next to a small sunflower sticker.
“It was the first time you came to my game” Jack walked over.
“And the sunflower...”
“Your favorite flower” he scratched the back of his head nervously, but you didn't see it as you were too focused on the photo.
Jack opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of the boat's horn stopped him.
You followed him outside the house, watching the boys tie up the boat and run towards you.
You felt Jack's hand on your waist, pulling you closer. He looked down and gave you a little wink, as you felt confident to wrap your arms around his waist as well.
“I don't believe it” the first boy arrived with his mouth open, looking between you and Jack.
“Well, believe me my dear friend Trevor. This is Yn” Jack had a smile from ear to ear as he greeted his friend with a hug, pointing to you right after.
“Hi” your cheeks flushed as Trevor greeted you with a warm hug ignoring your outstretched hand.
"Okay, you can stop hugging my girlfriend now" Jack patted him on the back.
"I never thought the word girlfriend would come out of your mouth" Quinn approached, offering you a hand, which you accepted gently.
"Fate is playful" Jack shrugged.
“Jack talks about you all the time, but I thought you were just friends. I'm Brock, and this is Elias, nice to meet you” The blonde approached with a smile and this time it was Jack who felt his cheeks flush.
“Yeah, well, I realized after a while that I wanted more than friendship,” he says confidently, walking back to you.
“And how was that specifically?” Luke, the younger brother who had greeted you with a hug asked a curious question.
“He got jealous of me with someone else” you respond after realizing that Jack has stalled.
"How cute Jack" Trevor said smiling.
“Poor cute, you thought you'd lose me” an amused smile tumbles from your mouth when you notice that Jack's cheeks are reddening.
"You're right. When I thought of her dating someone else, I freaked out.”
“And ran to my apartment with the intention of making a romantic gesture,” you continue, enjoying the idea of making him shy.
“In a very manly way”
“With a giant bouquet of flowers” his friends seem to be amused by the idea of him being romantic.
“A very manly bouquet” he tries.
“Of sunflowers”.
He rolls his eyes "they're your favorite".
A sincere laugh leaves your lips and he follows you.
You reach for his cheek, standing on tiptoe to place a small kiss on the spot, while he still has one hand on your waist, caressing it with his fingertips.
Butterflies emerge in your stomach and you feel your leg wobble.
“Ew, it's good. We already understand that you are in love” Elias says making you two come back to reality.
“So tell me, how are you guys?” Jack addressed the question to the group, who continued talking until they reached some benches near the lake.
Jack guided you all the way, still with his hand firmly on your waist, positioning you to sit next to him on the couch. You spent hours talking, the boys treated each other like brothers and were always very polite in trying to include you in the conversation.
After watching the sunset by the lake, you decided to go inside for a shower and dinner.
*
The kitchen smelled of pasta and sauce when you came downstairs, your hair still wet.
Quinn was in charge of the stove; Elias, Brock and Jack were making the pizza dough and Luke and Trevor were waiting, they would be responsible for putting the pizza together.
"We could go a lot faster if I helped" Trevor complained, clearly bored.
"Don't you dare go near the stove" Quinn said without taking his eyes off the pot.
"And you would never have the skills to do this" Jack said, tossing the flattened pizza dough up, rolling it around on his finger, and returning it to the counter in a perfect circle.
“Wow” you blurted out and watched as six pairs of eyes turned towards you.
“Impressed?” Jack teased, wiping some of the flour off his hands on a napkin.
"I am. You never told me you knew how to do that.”
"Lie! I already cooked for you"
“True! But you never made pizza” you pouted while Jack laughed and leaned a little closer.
"Guilty. I promise to do it when we get back to Jersey.”
“Pinky promise?” you lift your pinky and Jack does so without batting an eye, placing a small kiss on your hand.
"Promise".
The boys had slowly returned to their duties while you and Jack talked. The butterflies in your stomach grew more euphoric with every smile Jack gave. He was always very smiley, but today he looked different.
“Hey, you two, enough flirting and get back to work. Jack, you still have more dough to make, and Yn, if you don't mind sweetener, could you cut the cheese?" Quinn gave the orders with his hands on his hips.
“Yes boss” you and Jack said together by chance going each to a counter.
"Is not fair! Yn just arrived and already has a mission!?” Trevor complained again.
The conversation was animated in the preparation and assembly of the pizzas, which were delicious.
Jack and you were in charge of the dishes, and while some were tidying up the kitchen, others were preparing the room for a little movie session.
"I wash and you dry" Jack said four dishes ago, you didn't object.
“Tonight has been great” a smile graced your silly lips.
"Yes! They adored you, you're doing great being a fake girlfriend” Jack winked at you and you nodded.
"You're also a great fake boyfriend."
*
You lost track of time as it got dark. The boys had a long argument to choose the movie and when they did, your tiredness got the better of you.
You're not sure when you fell asleep, but you knew you were comfortable.
Your head was resting on Jack's shoulder, who had his arms behind your back. He had a sweaty smell of shower, and with the little caresses he made on your back, you felt extremely comfortable and safe.
But not prepared for Luke's scream, when apparently some character died.
“I think I'll go to bed” your voice came out through a yawn as your heart was still beating fast.
After a chorus of goodnight and sorrys -and a peck on the cheek from Jack- you finally made it upstairs.
You were finishing getting dressed when Jack walked into the room, his eyes covered.
"It's safe?"
“Yep” you said as soon as you finished putting your pajama top over your head, making your friend open his eyes “is the movie over yet?”
"Not yet, but I'm tired from the trip, and Luke hasn't stopped complaining since the character died."
You watch as Jack locks the door, and takes a blanket from the trunk, spreading it over the foot of the bed.
"What are you doing?"
"Don't worry, you can have the bed, I sleep on the floor."
You'd be lying if you said this didn't make you slightly upset.
And you would be lying if said that you hadn't doubled the amount of cream you had applied to your body.
And maybe perfume.
“Ah”
Jack glared at you "Are you scared of monsters by any chance?" the provocative tone present.
“No” you rolled your eyes.
“Don't worry honey, I'm here to protect you if you need it” he said showing off his muscles.
"My hero!" you said with a laugh, turning off the light.
The moonlight came through a part of the curtain, making the room a beautiful color.
You snuggled under the covers while Jack took off his shirt, and you remembered that he had once commented that he slept like this. The temperature in the room seemed to rise and you closed your eyes quickly before he caught your eye.
*
Heavy knocking on the door made you jump up. Jack was still sleeping, face down, and he didn't seem to mind the louder and louder knocking.
“Are they still sleeping?” whispers through the door, sounding like Trevor's voice.
"Doesn't Luke have a key to this room?"
You reached for the nearest pillow throwing it at your unconscious friend who jumped up, facing your desperate eyes and the noise at the door.
He hurried to his feet, throwing the covers under the bed, and erasing any traces that he had slept on the floor. He tried to straighten his tangled hair, heading towards the door, still shirtless.
“May I know why the hell you guys are making such a racket at this time of the morning?” he opened the door wide enough to see the boys but made sure they couldn't see you.
"Room service" Trevor's voice sounded excited.
“Is Yn awake yet?” Brock appeared to try to enter the room, but Jack held the door steady.
“My girlfriend is still in her pajamas and you are crazy if you think I would let you see her like that”
Damn butterflies.
Jack went into the hallway and closed the door, returning a few seconds later "I told them we'd be down in a few minutes so they could get off my back, but you can take as many minutes as you want".
He turned to you, walking towards the bed and climbing on it, sitting next to you.
“I'm sorry about them, I promise they won't try to get in the room again” he says with a small smile holding your hand, which only then you realize was tightly gripped in the blanket.
Jack places a small kiss on the top of her head, and once again the feeling of security invades you.
*
“I can't believe you guys came all this way to play hockey” your voice was indignant as Jack pulled you towards a large open air ice rink.
“We're hockey players honey” he said amused.
“Yn, what size are your skates?” Quinn turned to you.
"I...I think I'll just watch"
“How disrespectful.” Trevor looked offended.
“I don't know how to skate, but it's ok I...”
The looks of shock went from you to Jack in a matter of seconds.
"Didn't you teach your girlfriend how to skate???"
"What's your problem??"
"Mom would be disappointed."
“He already tried to teach me, I'm just very resistant” you felt on a mission to save your friend.
"And I'm still going to teach her" Jack said confidently.
“Maybe one day” you nodded, as the boys headed towards the ice.
You followed Jack to the edge of the ice, where the other boys were, too, turning to him with a bouncy smile.
“Score a goal for me darling?”
He laughed "honey, you deserve nothing less than a hat trick".
You watched the first few minutes of the game, trying to be a competent fake girlfriend, but you fell into your book a while later, still on the edge of the ice. The boys formed a team and were playing with other boys, it seemed to have formed an interesting match.
Jack passed by you several times, to celebrate goals or try to splash ice on you.
Minutes of what should have been the second half, a boy also on the outside of the ice approached.
"What are you reading?"
“Pride and Prejudice” you lifted the cover.
“Great book, and much better movie. I'm Dylan, nice to meet you” he held out his hand.
“I don't trust anyone who thinks the film is better. I'm Yn” you shook his hand, he laughed.
“Interesting activity being right in front of an ice rink. Don't you know how to skate?
"No. And you, why aren't you there?
Dylan's response get lost in the cloud of ice hurled at him.
“Jack!”
“Oops, my bad. I had to stop,” he said with a cynical smile, taking off his glove and holding out his hand to Dylan, who had ice in his hair, “I'm Jack Hughes”.
"Dylan".
"Nice, Dylan, apparently you've already met my girlfriend Yn."
"Girlfriend? Now it makes sense,” Dylan murmured.
"What did you say?" Jack moved forward and you put yourself in front.
"Hey!? He was just being nice.”
"He was trying to hit on other people's girlfriends" Jack glares at the boy who has already run off.
"No, he was not."
“You are too naive to understand.”
"What?"
“You never notice when someone hits on you Yn!” he yelled “they can do anything but you don't realize it!”
Jack ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated manner and you instinctively took a step back.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you I just..."
You turned your back and walked away, ignoring the call of your best friend and the other boys. The fact that they were on roller skates favored you, making it possible for you to get home before them, and lock yourself in your room.
Jack's outburst caught you off guard, you had never heard him scream, especially with you. Inevitable tears flowed from your eyes. These last few days had been a tangle of emotions and you felt overwhelmed.
Light knocks on the door “it's me” Jack's voice echoes through the lock.
"I don't want to talk right now."
Your voice cracks, and Jack feels his heart sink when he realizes you're crying. Worse. Upon realizing he made you cry.
“I shouldn't have yelled at you Yn, I'm so sorry” his voice is also muffled; he is sitting on the floor, his forehead resting against the door.
"All I did this weekend was help you Jack."
"I know. I'm an idiot” the pain in his voice was audible.
A long silence hangs in the air, making her sobs seem louder.
“I bought you a present” he says still in a whisper “it's in the second drawer, on the right. It's the black box.”
You hold back for a few seconds, but curiosity overcomes you. You open two wrong drawers before the right one, but finally find a small black box, looking like an intruder in the middle of so much hockey stuff. A sob leaves your throat as you open it to find a delicate sunflower pendant.
"It was supposed to be a surprise" Jack says with a sigh.
“When did you buy this?” you felt your voice waver.
"What?"
“Did you buy this week?” your heart was sinking “tell me you didn't buy this this week. Tell me you didn't buy it just to show your friends that you know how to gift your fake girlfriend! That you're more than the kind of boy who changes when he's in front of his friends! You are making me confuse the whole weekend!" you shouted in a shaky voice.
“I've had this for months” Jack let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes tightly “you've always been true to me Yn, you just never realized it.”
Silence reigned for minutes, which became hours.
You were grateful for the door, since without it, Jack would find you in a sorry state.
Unaware of how much time had passed, you heard another knock on the door.
"I don't want to talk Jack."
"It's Quinn" your heart jumped "let me in please".
You pondered for a moment, but staggered to the door, opening it for the older brother.
“I thought you needed food” he held up a bag, which looked like it had bread and juice “can I come in?”
You nodded giving him room, your stomach rumbling as you opened the bag.
"What time is it?"
"Midnight. You were locked in here for nearly seven hours.”
"My hair must look ridiculous."
Quinn let out a small laugh through his nose, sighing shortly after.
“I know about you and Jack.”
"What?" you almost choked.
"Jack is my little brother, I know him better than anyone. And I knew that if he had gotten a chance with you, he would have told me right away, not a month later."
“A chance with me?” your head was spinning and you ate another bread.
“Did you really never notice?” Quinn looked at you with a certain admiration and curiosity, while you disagreed.
“He liked you from the day you met. The Devils had lost that day and he was on a losing streak, his mood was sour than lemon, but after meeting you, he came home grinning like an idiot. I remember him saying that he was so stunned that he had forgotten to ask for your phone number..."
“I always wondered how he found me”
"He knew your college, and he knew your last name, so he looked through the list of approved until he found it."
“But should they have like a millions names?”
"Was a long night" Quinn let out a smile "he let out a scream when he found your Instagram, and when you followed him back."
“He was always talking about you to me. Always. When we traveled, he always thought of a little souvenir to bring you, and I lost count of how many times we stayed behind because he wanted to take a picture of everything.”
“The Hughes family travel vlogs starring Jack Hughes” you mimicked the voice you knew by heart and Quinn laughed.
"He recorded it at least five times to make sure it was good."
“Why has he never asked me out?” you rambled.
Quinn shrugged, “He's Jack. He never went into detail with me, but I remember him mentioning once that you had a bad relationship with your ex and that you were trying to focus on your studies now. I think he just was afraid of losing you.”
You felt little tears forming in your eyes remembering moments of you and Jack.
When he listened to you for hours telling about your love misadventures, your deepest scars.
When he took you in when you broke down and went to buy you a big tub of ice cream.
When he heard you say you were tired of suffering for love.
When you fell asleep on the couch and woke up warm and comfortable in bed. When you got sick and he left practice early just to check on you.
Jack's smile when you showed up to watch him on the ice, or wore one of his shirts.
When he smiled at you and you felt your heart stop.
And those damn butterflies.
"Where is he?"
*
The clock was past one in the morning and the night was cold.
Jack had his eyes closed, feeling the warm water of the Jacuzzi under the moonlight.
You approached slowly admiring the scene. He was shirtless, and looked relaxed, his body moving slowly with the water.
“Are you alone?” your voice was muffled.
Jack gave a small smirk, eyes still closed.
You walked around the jacuzzi, sitting on the stairs, right across from Jack.
He opened his eyes, analyzing you for a few seconds. You were wearing a heavy winter coat, and you smelled like vanilla and after-bath, with a high bun.
“I'm sorry” his gaze was intense.
“Me too” a small smile came out of your mouth, being reciprocated.
You took a deep breath, putting your legs in the tub. Jack's eyes shot to them instantly, your skin reflecting the blue of the water.
“I don't regret it,” he said, looking back into your eyes.
"What?"
“From this weekend. Of having you as my fake girlfriend for a while. Was cool".
A small smile came out of your mouth “I could have been your real girlfriend if you had had the guts to ask.”
The tension was electrifying.
Jack took a deep breath, putting his arms out of the jacuzzi, looking at you in a different way. Desire.
You took off your coat, revealing your body in a black bikini, which you had felt stupid packing to go visit somewhere cold, but now you were nothing short of grateful.
Jack let out a heavy breath, and gripped the edge of the pool as he watched your entire body submerge.
"Now, I'm slightly sorry" he accompanied you glazed, while you walked slowly closer to him.
“The weekend isn't over yet” your smile was relaxed as you stopped right in front of him, who was sitting, making his knees touch your belly.
“Hi, I'm Y/n. Nice to meet you".
“You are unique” Jack grabbed your waist with one hand, pulling you onto his lap.
The kiss was desperate. A prize won after an agonizing wait.
His tongues engaged in a hot battle as he had his hands all over your body, pulling you close. Between caresses, you let out a smile.
“Look how interesting, you will be able to introduce your real girlfriend to your brothers and your friends tomorrow”
Jack lets out a smile as he kisses your neck "I wish you the best of luck, they really liked the last one, it's going to be a tough competition".
You couldn't hold back a hearty laugh. And Jack found himself admiring you bright smile, going down your neck seconds later.
He starts tracing the silver chain, until it went down towards your breasts, where a delicate yellow sunflower was.
"Did you like it?"
You felt your cheeks flush "you get lucky, they're kinda my favorite".
Your heart melted as you moved closer for one more kiss.
And it was like that all night.
:)
#jack hughes#jack hughes fic#jack hughes fanfiction#jack hughes fluff#jach hughes#jack hughes imagine#quinn hughes#jack hughes blurb#luke hughes#trevor zegras#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine#hockey imagine#hockey fic
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Two for One: Part Five
Neighbor!Dave York x Human!Max Phillips x f!reader
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/cdebbaae671dd52f1c75f22229140d91/bd79e70cea174ad1-9e/s540x810/9726cd3be2971dcfd4f14380a84576a9c1d8597f.jpg)
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-vampire Max, pre-Equalizer 2 Dave, familial drama and angst, ANGST!, mentions of drug use/abuse, alcoholism!, family death, invasions of privacy, breaking and entering, mentions of murder/violence, oral (f receiving), dom!Dave, soft!Max, threesome, anal, vaginal, breath play, alcohol and nicotine consumption, double penetration, anal creampie, dirty talk, I think that’s it
Words: 6,375 (sorry it’s short)
Notes: holy shit I don’t even know what to say other than I’m very grateful and touched by how many of you have reached out to me, and that I’m so so so sorry it took me this long to add a new chapter. Hopefully it’s worth the wait. I’m hoping to be more regular in the future! I did my best to remember who to tag, yell at me in the comments if I forgot you 🥴
—
You aren’t sure why, but with Dave gone, it feels wrong to see Max. At least, outside of your workplace...
Were it the other way around, you don’t think you would experience the same level of cloying guilt you feel with Dave, but then again, your relationship with Dave was far different than what you had with Max: while you kept Dave at arm’s length, with Max, you kept him even further than that, a begrudging admission of your lack of self control, something that you hate to admit runs in your family. You with your alcoholism and overactive sex drive; Garrett with his addiction to narcotics. Your mother’s former addictions to the same things as you and your brother, at one point or another, waxing and waning for decades as long as you can feasibly remember.
You can’t help but smirk to yourself as you imagine scientists studying your family like captive apes, which isn’t too far off. They would probably learn a thing or two about addiction. Not that your mother believes in science enough to volunteer for such things.
So, that is how things go for those few days that Dave is out of town. Max respects your need for space, surprisingly so, affording you little more than a few minutes in the bathroom each day you’re both in the coffee shop at the same time, ending in either a belly full of Max’s cum, his fingers buried deep in your pussy until you see stars, or both.
And he still insists on ending every interaction with those strangely intimate and delicate embraces, each encounter getting longer and softer with each passing day. Almost like Max wants to be close to you, but isn’t sure how else to go about it, only knowing that it’s something he needs—no, craves.
You won’t lie, you had started looking forward to those hugs too, needing them more than you’d realized. He never kisses you, though, no matter how long he holds you in his arms afterwards, something that leaves an oddly empty pit twisting inside of you that you can’t find yourself able to shake.
Your coworkers definitely know about your little bathroom receptions, thankfully looking the other way when Max comes strolling in like Don Juan in his pursuit of you. Even, much to your surprise, Audrey, whom you often found shooting dirty looks your way when she thinks you’re unawares, but has sense enough to keep her mouth shut. At least in front of you.
You played it cool around your boss, Maurizio, who seemed to be none the wiser, Max often chatting him up as a distraction when you had to straighten your clothes or smooth down your hair or make sure you didn’t have any remnants of jizz lingering on you. Sweet talking was definitely one of Max’s strong suits and Maury ate that shit right up.
Your nights after your shifts ended with you and Dave on the phone, talking — or doing other things — for hours on end, and you had to admit that his voice in your ear at the end of a long day was a welcome gift and distraction.
You asked about each other’s days; you lamenting about the stressors of your job, even divulging the part about the shipment of mocha syrup being two weeks late and how you’re down to only two bottles, and that you’re pretty sure Audrey and Vincent hate you, but leave out any bits about Max being the reason.
He tells you all about the day to day activities with his girls, everything from the inevitable meltdowns, to what they did and where they went, even letting you talk to his eldest — Molly — for a few moments when she insisted on knowing who her dad was talking to if it wasn’t Mommy, and although it felt awkward and forced it was still very sweet and amiable, leading you to wonder if this was all leading to something bigger between you and Dave… although you’d known each other only a very short time, it was suddenly feeling very real.
Did you want that?
You didn’t know, and not knowing scared you. That’s why, you realized, you hadn’t completely pushed Max away, in case things went awry. And they often did in your case, leaving behind a flaming trail of gnarled and smoldering wreckage in its wake.
And maybe you were starting to like Max, too. Just a little. As much as you tried to deny it.
At the very least, you could admit you looked forward to his daily visits more and more as the days slogged on, which was saying a lot.
As the upcoming week drew ever nearer, Dave’s communication dwindled and subsequently ran dry, which had you a bit worried. He had texted you about some vague work thing he had to do. You didn’t ask what it was, since it was none of your business.
Yet, you couldn’t keep yourself from worrying when the messages slowed and eventually stopped. Had you done or said something offputting?
You do your best not to linger in your own head for too long, keeping yourself busy with mundanities.
——
Dave was careful not to stay in touch with you unless absolutely necessary while he was actively on target. Whatever he could do to prevent you from being tied to the crime, even if only via digital footprint. Not to mention to keep himself from being tied to it, in whatever way possible.
He had left the crime scene with the intent to drive through the night without stopping until he reached Boston. His mind had not diverted from the original plan; however, with his dick painfully engorged and straining against his pants every step of the way, your face at the forefront of his mind, he found himself having to stop more than once to relieve the ache. You made him feel crazy. Crazier than he’s ever felt before. And he simultaneously loved and hated it.
With your videos playing on a loop, seat reclined back as far as it could go, he spills across his stomach again and again as he grunts your name through clenched teeth, hot spend collecting in the hollow of his navel.
Sunrise is approaching and he still has a couple of hours to go before he reaches you. He can’t wait to be with you. He can’t…
——
As you force yourself to drag ass into another long, miserable shift at work, barely conscious, your hair a rat’s nest, Dave is having to force himself not to be lead-footed all the way home. Being pulled over by a cop is the last thing he needs right now.
He texts you around 7AM, asking if you’re working and how you’re doing, although he already knows you’re not home, from the camera loop he periodically checks. He has to ask, though, to be as inconspicuous as possible.
You feel a wave of relief when you see Dave’s name pop up on your phone. But with a storm bearing down hard on the city (what your mother affectionately and irritatingly refers to as ‘tornado weather’), business unexpectedly picks up and you’re too slammed with soaked and pissy customers to respond in a timely manner.
You’re even too busy for Max when he comes in, passing him an apologetic glance right before your hands slip and you splash blistering hot coffee down the front of your shirt. Behind the dejected, puppy dog eyes he’s giving you, you almost think you see concern flash in those dark brown irises of his.
Not like that’s possible. Right?
—
It takes Dave longer than anticipated to make it back to Boston. Between the instances he had to pull off to relieve the strain in his pants, and subsequently take a power nap, he hits the city a little past 9, and by the time he makes it through the infuriating drag of traffic and rain, he pulls into his spot close to 10.
He draws in a deep breath as he stares up at your apartment window, dark now, pulling himself out of the driver’s seat, barely having enough energy to make it through the downpour and up the stairs to his apartment.
But as soon as he deposits his bag on the living room floor, he’s inexplicably hit with a second wind, adrenaline coursing through his veins when it occurs to him how close he is to you once again.
He hastily stuffs his lock picking kit down his pants, grabbing a rain slicker from the closet, despite already being drenched to the skin.
He knows you aren’t home. He’s confirmed and re-confirmed it. But needs to be in your space. Just long enough to smell you again, be with you without being with you until you can officially be in his arms again. He wants to lie on your bed, wrapped in your scent like a cloak as he dribbles down his fist, surprising you later by picking you up from work so you don’t have to walk home in the rain.
Which reminds him — he texts you again, asking when you get off, hoping that you’re just busy and not ignoring him.
He makes it inside your apartment in record time, the old wood of the interior crackling from the pressure disturbance, almost as if beckoning him inside.
He locks the door behind him and toes off his shoes, glancing around the small, dark space, which smells of stale cigarettes and… you.
He only needs a couple of hours. That’s all. Just long enough to hold him over until he can see you, smell you for real, touch you. Fuck you until your eyes roll back into your skull and you see stars.
He strips off his dripping clothes and drapes them over the back of your kitchen chairs to dry, at least somewhat, crawling into your bed and pulling the comforter up past his shoulders.
He presses his face to mattress, inhaling deeply, immediately growing hard from your lingering scent. Your coconut shampoo, your vanilla body spray. You.
As he slips his cock free from his boxers, he can almost feel your curves against his fingertips, the softness of your lips against his.
He begins to pump himself slowly, knowing he risked it all for you. Just so that sad fuck you call an ex can’t harass you anymore, his cock tightening further as he recalls the way Jonathan looked when the life drained from behind his eyes.
He did it for you, and he would do it a million times more if he could.
—
Your work day finally begins to slow after the lunch rush, the rain slacking off to a more tolerable, humid drizzle.
You let the others know that you’re retiring to the alley for a much needed cigarette break, and to not bother you for fifteen minutes unless it’s a life and death emergency. And even then, still don’t.
You already have a cigarette perched between your lips and a lighter clutched in your fist before you even hit the alleyway, thankful for the small awning even with the calmer precipitation.
You ignite the cig, pocketing your lighter as you take a seat on the milk crate you use as a stool, drawing in a long, much needed puff of smoke and toxins into your lungs. Fuck, it’s been a day.
You fish your phone out of your pocket so you can shoot Max a quick apology for not being able to see him earlier, immediately becoming distracted by the sheer volume of text messages you’ve missed since the start of your shift, Max momentarily forgotten.
Two of the messages are from Dave, which you’re relieved to see and respond to right away. One is from an employee letting you know they’re going to be half an hour late to their shift, which you ignore for the time being, not wanting to deal with it just yet. And the other eight are from your mom.
You sigh, taking another drag from your cigarette as you begrudgingly click on her name, anticipating the usual slew of bitching and moaning, reminding you what a terrible, awful daughter you are for abandoning your family; or, on the other end of the spectrum, kissing your ass and pleading for money.
As soon as your eyes scan over the messages, your world is swiftly rocked off its axis, your fingers losing their strength as your hands begin to tremor.
Your phone and cigarette crash to the ground, the former cracking as it hits the concrete, the latter snuffing itself out in the little bit of rain that’s left.
You wedge the heel of your palms against your eyelids and begin to weep, but you can still see the words behind your eyes, already haunting you, wishing you could scratch them out of your brain, wishing you could turn back time like it never happened.
Your grandmother, the only bit of glue that ever held you to your family, is gone.
—
Sarah comes in on her day off to cover the rest of your shift so you can leave early, thanking her profusely with promises to make it up to her as soon as you can.
You let Maury know you’re going to take a few days for bereavement, and he doesn’t give you any shit about it.
You walk home in a milky daze, finding your way by muscle memory alone, because you’re pretty sure you aren’t actually perceiving anything but a whirlwind of grief; grief so intense you can feel it in your bones, your bone marrow.
Your grandma—Granny Ruth—was the kindest, most selfless woman you’d ever had the privilege of knowing. You never could figure out how your mother turned out the way she did; how they were not only different, but polar fucking opposites.
You keep reading and re-reading your mother’s texts. How, in addition to your sorrow and angst, you’re also unfathomably angry.
Mom: your grandmother Ruth passed this morning
Mom: shame you weren’t here to say goodbye since you abandoned us
Mom: don’t bother coming home, she is being cremated no service
You need a stiff drink. Several, in fact. You need drugs. Every single one.
You need to get fucked until you’re completely desiccated. You need to strangle every last shred of emotion from your body because it’s too much to carry right now.
You wish you had a kill switch for your brain.
—
By the time you’ve reached the stoop that leads up to your building, you can’t keep it in any longer.
You managed to hold the fraying threads of your sanity together when you had to call Sarah in. And when you had to let Maury know. Even on the walk home, you were a zombie. Mindless. Numb.
But now, as you draw nearer to your home—or what you call home, but doesn’t really feel that way— your legs grow weak and your head swims, forcing you to collapse on the steps that lead up to the double doors, hunched forward, sobbing into your hands.
You aren’t sure how long you stay there, or if anyone sees you, and you really don’t care.
You stay until your head is throbbing, only snapping out of your daze when a familiar voice cuts through the sorrow, hushed, concerned, your name a murmur on their lips.
“Doll… are you okay?”
When you finally lift your head, your gaze settles on Max.
—
You tell Max about your grandmother. How she had been sick for years, how you should have never left her, the guilt and regret gnawing at you. You had been selfish, stupid.
He sits beside you on the steps, one arm wrapped around your shoulders, letting you cry, letting you lament about how much you hate your mother, only speaking when he needs to.
He’s being sweet, sympathetic, patient, and completely unlike his usual self. And you’re intuitive enough to know he isn’t bullshitting or just trying to get into your pants. He’s actually being sincere.
It’s so unlike him it almost unsettles you.
You aren’t complaining, though. It’s nice in how unexpected, how off-kilter it seems, and it does make you feel better, at least for a few fleeting moments.
As the conversation carries on and your mood lifts a peg or two, Max’s gentle, sympathetic touches gradually turn more reverent, more wanton, his movements slow and unsure at first to test the waters, wanting to ensure that you want it as much as he does.
When you reciprocate, your eyes re-affirming your needs to him, he grows more insistent, more brazen, cupping your breasts through your polo, coffee stains and all, canine teeth scraping along your pulse point.
He’s being more tender and sensual than you’re used to, and while you don’t mind it, you prefer Max’s usual persona and would much rather be railed so hard you forget your own name.
He pulls away long enough for you to punch in your password on the keypad, flinging the twin doors open and making a beeline for the elevator with Max trailing at your heels like an infatuated puppy.
His touches become more persistent and demanding the closer you get to your apartment, his true colors finally bleeding through. By the time you’re fumbling your keys to unlock the door, he’s practically dry humping you, hands on your hips, half hard already.
After a brief and minor struggle with your lock, your hands tremoring again, you eventually shoulder the door open, stumbling inside with Max immediately following suit.
The cool dark of your space welcomes you as you shut the door harder than intended, Max’s hands returning to your hips.
Suddenly, the air in the room shifts, and there’s movement from your bed.
—
You scream, your hands losing their strength for the second time today, keys and purse crashing to the floor as Max positions himself between you and the intruder.
Without thinking, you instinctively reach for the switch next to your head, the resulting flood of luminescence rendering everyone temporarily blind.
When your vision eventually returns, and you see who’s standing before you, you’re almost unable to fathom what the fuck is even going on.
“Dave? How the f- what are you… what the fuck?” you manage to prattle out, in spite of your inability to otherwise form a cohesive thought.
Dave could kick himself for being so careless, so sloppy. He was more clear cut than that. He should have known better.
His eyes flick to Max, his face neutral as he assesses the situation before speaking, taking a tentative step in your direction.
He’s in nothing but black boxers, one side of his hair flattened, his eyes weary and heavy with lingering traces of sleep.
He says your name, studying your face. He can tell you’ve been crying, and he wants to break whoever did this to you, rip them apart at the seams until there’s nothing left to identify a body.
He isn’t dense and can see that Max isn’t the source of your distress, clearing his throat subtly, whispering your name again.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice low, his need to touch you, kiss you, bordering on physical pain. But he doesn’t want to startle or upset you, your eyes as large as dinner plates.
As Dave creeps another step forward, Max shoulders up to him, practically bristling like a dog over a prized bone.
“Maybe you should answer her question, Dave.”
“Max—“ you warn, Max pivoting to meet your gaze, taking a single step back only because of you.
Dave passes him a glance, and for a brief, but satisfying moment, he imagines himself decking Max square in the jaw. He knows he could take the pretentious prick down in a single blow, he’s certain of it. But as much as he wants to do just that, he refrains.
He’s aware that acting on his instincts would disrupt your already fragile state. And as much as he hates to admit it, he understands why Max is acting the way he is. He would behave the same, were the roles reversed.
He draws in a deep breath before responding.
“I wanted to see you. You weren’t home… your door was unlocked, so I let myself in. I wanted to surprise you. But I must have drifted off...”
He pauses, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, giving you a moment to absorb everything.
“I’m sorry. I was exhausted, not thinking straight. I… I fucked up.”
You can’t help but notice Max is uncharacteristically quiet as Dave explains himself, hands on his hips, ready to jump in at any moment if needed. But like Dave, he doesn’t want to do anything to upset you.
“Please tell me what’s wrong. I want to help, if I can. I-“ He takes another step, his hand reaching for your arm. “I missed you.”
You see a muscle in Max’s jaw jump when Dave touches you, and as much as you want to shove him away, scream at him, tell him to fuck right off for breaking into your apartment… locked or not… you can’t bring yourself to do it. You’ve been angry enough for one day and you’re too mentally drained to care right now.
More tears fall in lieu of your anger, and you almost can’t believe you still have any left to cry.
Dave closes the distance, Max immediately flinching, itching to pick a fight but holding back. Dave doesn’t seem to notice or care, his focus honed solely on you, cupping your jaw, his thumb dragging over your cheekbone, catching any stray tears.
They’re behaving surprisingly well, given the circumstances, you have to give them that.
And although Max knew about you and Dave, you’re shocked to realize Dave knows about you and Max. But it’s too much information to dwell on right now, your head a foggy mess, so you don’t.
“My grandma died,” you croak.
—
The first hour is awkward, uncomfortable, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Dave and Max are getting along but only just barely, both of them vying for your attention to the point of additional stress, wanting to do whatever they can to make you feel better.
None of it feels real. Everything feels dark and hazy, a fever dream.
You’re sandwiched between both men on your tiny couch, watching something on Discovery none of you give two shits about, passing a bottle of vodka around to add to your mixer of choice as you sit in otherwise oppressive, stifling silence.
Their hands are all over you, competing for your affections, probably wishing you would kick the other one out, and you consider more than once to kick both out to let you wallow in your sorrow in peace.
But the drunker you get, the less you care. The drunker they get, the less they care about the other touching you, as long as they do get to touch you in some way or another.
As their touches grow bolder, you sense something unspoken pass between them, their caresses gradually transitioning to fondling, their hands moving over your curves, groping your breasts, teasing your folds through your thin leggings.
Of course there are a few moments where they bristle and bicker, quarreling over who gets to touch you where, but for the most part, they cooperate, working your body in tandem.
Your head falls back, your neck folded over the back of the couch as Dave’s fingers slip under the band of your leggings, his lips finding your neck.
“So wet already,” he murmurs against your pebbled flesh, his fingers feather light touches against your skin, teasing. “You like the way we’re touching you, baby?”
Max’s lips are on the opposite side of your neck, nibbling and kissing from your jaw to your clavicle, his hand sliding under your shirt, pushing your bra aside to pluck at your puckered nipple.
You can only moan in response, so fucking horny you don’t even know what to do with yourself.
“I think she does,” Max replies with a crooked smirk, locking eyes with Dave as he slips your polo over your head, his head dipping to suckle at your exposed breast.
Dave pushes two fingers past your entrance, languidly pumping them as he anchors his thumb against your clit, causing your hips to twitch and sputter.
“So fucking pretty for us,” Dave purrs against your neck, pushing your leggings down to your knees, “Dirty fucking slut, letting two men touch you. What else would you let us do to you?”
“Anything you want,” you respond almost immediately, not having to giving it another thought.
Max’s head lifts from your chest, gently pushing you forward so he can remove your bra.
“That’s a dangerous proposition, doll. You think you can handle both of us at the same time?” Max counters, a devilish glint making his dark eyes shine as he palms himself over his pants.
You nod, unable to respond in any coherent language due to whatever magic Dave is currently performing between your thighs.
Dave tells you to lift your legs, tugging your bottoms the rest of the way down.
He had pulled his pants back on after you and Max arrived, but he shucks them off again, the outline of his dick visibly straining through the fabric.
Max had already stripped down to his undershirt and pants, wiggling out of his shirt while Dave removes his pants.
Dave spreads your thighs apart, drinking in the vision of your sopping wet pussy, the tip of his tongue flicking at his bottom lip like a hungry reptile.
He turns to Max, his eyes glistening, his brow furrowed.
“Make her cum. Get her ready,” Dave commands, Max not bothering to argue with being told what to do so authoritatively, because he wants it just as badly as you do.
“Ride his face,” he tells you, gesturing for you and Max to move over to the bed.
“Use him to get yourself off.”
Max moves into position, wriggling out of his pants in the process, leaving both men in their boxers and you completely nude.
Your walls clench around nothing as you mount Max’s face, planting your knees on either side of his head, your palms against the wall.
Max places a few delicate kisses to your inner thighs before abruptly pulling you all the way down, his tongue curling into your wet heat.
Dave growls, his eyes darkening with lust as he steps out of his boxers, large hand wrapping around the base of his thick cock, steadily stroking himself to the vision of Max eating you out with abandon.
Dave bends to kiss your velvety lips, his tongue demanding access and you let him.
“You remember your safe word, don’t you?” Dave asks as he breaks the kiss, his fingers entwined in your hair.
You nod, your lower lip dangling. “Foxglove for you, lavender for Max,” you reply.
“Good girl,” Dave praises, giving your right ass cheek a solid smack. “Now ride his face. Use him.”
You hear Max grunt something against your folds but you aren’t sure what, leaning back, your spine flexing as you brace yourself on Max’s muscular arms.
Dave watches, transfixed, his hand never leaving his cock as he tilts your head back to kiss and bite at your throat, your jaw.
“Is he doing a good job, sweetheart?” Dave asks and your head bobs eagerly in response.
“Yes he is,” you say as your hips roll forward, thrusting against Max’s tongue, his arched nose bumping your clit with every stroke.
“Max, spread her cheeks for me,” Dave says firmly and Max immediately obliges, his cock twitching in his shorts when he understands where this is going.
With his hands gripping your ass, he helps you to guide your movements, moaning against your folds.
Dave perches on the edge of the bed behind you, collecting some of your excess slick to coat his fingers, assisting Max in spreading you even wider as he teases and prods at your puckered star of muscle.
“Let me in, sweetheart, or it’s going to hurt later,” Dave commands softly, circling your entrance with his index finger. “Lean forward a little bit,” he tells you, placing his palm between your shoulders as he guides you into position.
You brace against the wall again, relaxing as much as you can, the new angle helping.
Dave manages to slip one finger inside, pistoning into your tight tunnel, making you whimper and quiver against Max.
He spits directly onto your anus to apply more lubrication, adding a second finger to the first.
“Keep riding his face just like that. Use both of us, pump yourself onto my fingers as you use his mouth,” Dave says, his voice low, his other hand reaching around to circle your throat.
“There you go,” he says as his fingers probe deeper, scissoring them apart to help stretch you further.
“Yes, fuck yes,” you whimper, your movements becoming more determined, more frantic.
Max is a trooper, his fingers still digging into your ass, his grip bruising, his tongue still flicking and curling into your tunnel, not even stopping to take a breath.
“That’s it, sweetheart, such a good girl for us,” Dave murmurs, his voice low and velvet.
He attempts to insert a third finger, adding more spittle and slick, only getting it past the first knuckle, but it does seem to help in spreading you open.
“Shit, I’m gonna cum… I’m so close…” you whine as your bounce more fervently on Max’s face, making him grunt words of affirmation under you, muffled against your soft mound.
Dave’s hold on your neck tightens, his fingers flexing against your skin, his lips brushing your ear.
“Let go for us, sweetheart. Let it all out.”
Max continues to guide your movements, Dave helping now as well, bouncing you up and down, using your neck as a handle.
With a loud cry, you cum hard and fast, stars behind your eyes as both men work you through your orgasm, Dave’s hand releasing your throat to return to his cock, Max groaning into your pussy until the waves of pleasure subside.
Dave pulls his fingers free, stilling his ministrations on his own body as he gently cups your cheek.
“Still okay?” he asks, and you nod with a smile as you climb off of Max who, understandably, needs a moment to take a breath.
Max finally extricates himself from his boxers, heavy cock springing free, pumping himself slowly as his visage roves hungrily over you and Dave.
“Get on his cock and lean forward,” Dave demands in a low growl, and you shimmy down Max’s body, straddling him, Max slotting himself at your entrance and lifting his hips to meet you in the middle.
You slowly sink down to his lap, Max releasing a hiss of pleasure, placing his hands on either side of your hips.
“Fuck, baby, you feel amazing,” Max pants, already bucking his hips in anticipation.
Dave positions himself behind you, on his knees, his hands also moving to your hips, fingers brushing Max’s.
They lock eyes with each other, his brow a hard, dark line as he regards the other man.
“You are not allowed to cum in her. Understand?” he tells Max, his voice low and authoritative, his lips tight.
Max frowns, his brow wrinkling in disapproval, but he doesn’t protest, not wanting to let the opportunity to be inside you slip through his fingers.
Dave edges closer, adding more spit and slick to your anus, inserting two fingers again to ensure you’re ready.
“Just relax, baby, and use your safe words if you need them,” Dave tells you gently, placing the head of his cock against your tight ring of muscle.
“Just breathe,” he says, and begins slowly pushing himself into you.
As Dave gradually gains ground, you’ve never felt so full in your entire life, the sensation unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, even when Dave claimed your ass the first night.
There is some pain initially, but the alcohol helps to alleviate some of the discomfort, as well as slacken your muscles enough for Dave to bottom out.
His head falls back with a loud groan as his hips press firmly against your ass, stilling himself for a beat to relish the sensation of your body strangling his cock.
After a moment, both men exchange another look and they begin to move slowly in conjunction with one another, their movements choppy and stilted at first as they learn the other’s movements, able to find a mutual rhythm after a few minutes that seems to work for you.
“Oh fuck,” you keen, burying your face against Max’s shoulder while both men slide in and out of you in tandem, and you think you’ve never felt anything more glorious in your entire life.
Max wraps his arms around your back, holding you against him, whispering encouragement in your ear.
“Look at you,” Max praises, one hand moving to cup the nape of your neck. “Taking both of us so well. You like having two men inside of you, don’t you?”
You nod and whimper against his neck, your hot breath fanning his skin, on the verge of tears with how heavenly it feels, how much joy and pleasure they’re gifting to you.
Dave gives your right ass cheek another sharp smack, making you yelp in surprise at the abrupt lance of pain.
“Say it. Say out loud how much you love it,” Dave grits through his teeth, his ministrations growing more intense.
“I love having two men inside of me, fucking me, using me,” you mewl between breaths, relinquishing a loud moan when their hips snap against you simultaneously, almost as if they planned it.
Little by little, their movements increase in speed and power, seamlessly with the other, a series of curses and inhuman noises bellowing out of your ribcage.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” you cry out when you feel yourself getting close for a second time, your muscles already tightening. “I’m gonna fucking… cum… again…” you groan against Max’s neck.
Dave lands another slap to your ass, their thrusts growing rougher, your bed rocking against the wall.
“Cum for us, baby. Cum all over Max’s cock while I’m railing your tight little ass,” Dave snarls, panting hard as he chases his own end as well.
You reach your second peak only moments later, your vision going pure white as you’re hurtled far over the edge, experiencing the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had in your life, gushing unapologetically all over Max’s lap and your bed.
They keep pistoning against you, riding you through the waves of your orgasm, the sounds of their grunts and growls filling the small space.
Dave can tell by the look on Max’s face that he’s close as well, his breath ragged in his chest as he warns Max a second time not to finish inside of you.
Max’s cheeks inflate, his skin a deep shade of pink, sweat prickling his brow as he does everything he can to hold back.
“Final warning,” Dave grits, reaching around you to grip Max by the throat, squeezing hard enough to get his point across.
With a deep grunt, Max pulls out of you at the last possible second, locking eyes with Dave, hand still wrapping his throat, exploding like a goddamn geyser all over your ass and Dave’s stomach.
That spurs Dave to reach his own end, stilling inside of you, hips twitching and jerking involuntarily as he unloads everything he has to give, your flexing and pulsing anus milking every last drop.
He collapses on top of you, both men breathing haggardly, your skin slicked with perspiration.
You stay like that for a while, none of you wanting to move for a long time.
Dave pushes his face against the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, his cheek resting against Max’s chest.
He eventually pulls out, rolling onto his back as you settle between them, lying in comfortable silence for what seems like an eternity.
Max pushes himself up, going over to the bathroom to grab some warm, damp rags, tossing one to you and Dave, using the third on himself.
Dave scoots to the edge of the bed, studying Max in silence as Max gathers his clothes.
You move next to Dave, also watching Max get dressed, quirking a brow in confusion and concern.
“You aren’t staying?”
—
You walk Max down, the elevator ride silent and stifling, his hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets, having never been more quiet in his life.
You follow him to the street, staying with him until he reaches the corner.
“I have work tomorrow,” he says, a flimsy excuse at best.
You cross your arms, searching his face. “Are you okay?” you question, finding yourself genuinely worried.
“Yeah,” Max replies stiffly, confused and overwhelmed by everything that just occurred, his mind replaying the moment Dave grabbed his throat, resulting in him exploding all over both of you like a nervous teen on prom night.
“I just want to be sure…” he begins, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. “Did you want that?”
You meet his eyes with your own, not used to seeing Max this vulnerable, this unsure. You don’t like it.
“Yes. I did…” you say honestly, exhaling a slow breath.
“Did you?” you ask softly.
“Yeah. I did. I wanted it, and I enjoyed it, but… I don’t know,” he says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I guess I’m just tired.”
You search his face again, searching for the unspoken answers, but not wanting to scare him away by prying too much.
You step into him, wrapping your arms around him in a snug embrace, and he buries his face in your hair, his arms linking behind your back.
He pulls away after a beat, his hands moving to either side of your face.
“I’ll text you soon. Okay? I’m sorry again, by the way. About your grandmother.”
You inhale deeply, nodding in acknowledgment, trying not to cry again. Sensing your pain, feeling a different kind of pain twisting in his chest, Max does something he normally wouldn’t.
He pulls you closer, his lips connecting with yours in a soft, worshipping kiss, long fingers sinking into your hair, committing the way you taste to memory.
—
@ohheypedrito @kateispunk @kellybelly1978 @heavennumber2 @alwaysmicado @yorksgirl @cosmic-li @chronically-ghosted @morallyinept @daddy-dins-girl @natdeandar @sarap-77 @guelyury @vabeachazn @gwendibleywrites @anoverwhelmingdin @oberynslady @untamedheart81 @casa-boiardi
#pedro pascal#dave york#max phillips#the dave york pit#dave york x f!reader#dave york x reader#two for one#two for one series#max phillips x f!reader#max phillips x reader
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It's about community, y'all.
I’ve found myself recently in a fandom interaction that has left me feeling very uncomfortable, and I want to talk about it.
I will not be sharing usernames or fic names, so please do not publicly mention who they are if you figure out who this is.
About a month ago, I was messaged by an account that doesn’t follow me, asking me to read their friend’s fic. The initial message was very flattering–their friend was a big fan of my work, and it would be so nice for them to get a comment from me on it. Honestly, it was such a sweet message, and I said I was busy right then, but I’d make time to read it.
When I opened the fic, it was a username that I didn’t recognize. Which is not terribly surprising, but I do recognize and notice regular commenters and people who regularly interact with me on Tumblr. (Which, by the way, is a good thing. These people all have a special place in my heart, and I love seeing their interactions.) This person also had no other fics published to AO3, and no bookmarks on their account.
I am an email hoarder, which means that every comment, kudo, and tumblr follow I get an email notification for is still stored in my email. I searched my inbox for the writer’s username, and nothing came up. I don’t mean nothing significant, I mean not one single comment, kudos, or follow from the account. I searched the account who messaged me, and got the same result. No one single comment, kudo, or follow.
The thing that may not be immediately obvious from the outside is that many writers connect with each other as well. We share fic recs, snippets, and plot bunnies. We also talk about comments that we love, fans that we enjoy seeing in our notes, and significant interactions.
Which is to say that the first thing I did was drop this fic with an explanation of what happened into the “fic recs” channel of our discord. Immediately, I find out that this is not a unique situation. Many of the writers in that discord were also approached, either by the actual writer or a friend, and asked to read it.
I messaged the account again and asked if their friend was operating under a new username because I didn’t recognize them. Which is valid and I know people change their usernames sometimes. The friend responded that they did, but that the friend wouldn’t like them sharing it. I looked into the tumblr that messaged me then, and the account had been set up one singular day before they messaged me, with nothing more than a few art reblogs on their blog.
At this point, I’m getting a really weird feeling from this, and I decide to just not respond anymore. I’m not going to call them out, but I’m also not going to engage.
Yesterday, the “friend’s” account sent me another message, asking if I’d read it and telling me again that they can give their friend’s old account name if I really want it. They also mention that their friend read through and commented on a bunch of my older fics–which they did. Between May 24 and June 1, they left 17 comments on some of the very first fics I ever wrote and published. However, the way she tells me this feels very much like a quid pro quo - I commented, now where’s yours?
I jumped back into the discords of some of my mutuals, and asked about this again. It turns out that all of us have gotten a weird vibe from them, and that this all feels like such a manipulative, creepy way to ask for exposure on your fic.
And, because I’m me and needed more information, I went back to their fic and looked through the comments and bookmarks.
There’s an ongoing discussion in many writer’s circles about interactions being lower, particularly comments, which you’ve probably seen crop up around Tumblr as well. While I don’t want to rehash this discussion here, the basic consensus is that most established writers are seeing fewer comments than ever, even when there’s a significant number of kudos.
This fic has a not insignificant number of kudos, but a surprisingly large amount of comments and bookmarks, comparatively. Enough that just seeing the stats shocked me. I looked through the comments and saw lots of well known fandom writers, as well as some otherwise blank accounts. It strikes me as very odd–especially from a new, blank account and for a one shot without chapters to build up an audience.
I jumped back in the discord and asked my mutuals about this again. Several people described really weird interactions with this individual. I heard stories about this person being really flattering when they initially reached out, vaguely complimenting the writer, then completely ghosting after the writer comments on their fics.
I’ve debated for a bit about whether to post on this or not. The entire interaction has left such a bad taste in my mouth. I’ve no doubt that the writer and their friend are the same person, and I suspect some of their comments are fabricated as well. It’s elaborate, to a weird degree, and I feel so uncomfortable by it.
The thing is, I love talking to people who have read my work. I love getting sent a fic rec. I read so little at this point just due to life and limited time that basically everything I read is something a mutual wrote or something recommended to me. I also really love the “it would mean so much to me if you read this” message, but only if it’s genuine. I have read first fics of new writers who sent me their own work, with their name attached, and asked me to.
Fandom writing is a community, and that works best when we have a little give and take. But when you’re out there manipulating interactions, building up fake flattery to only not follow through, that breaks down our community. It’s unfortunate, manipulative, and honestly, a bit creepy.
I don’t know if they just thought we (the writing community) wouldn’t notice, but we did. I’ve talked to other writers about this, and if any of my mutuals had a similar experience, I’d love to hear about it.
To my “friend” who wrote this fic, I know you’re proud of your fic, but you’re not doing yourself any favors with this behavior. I will not be reading it. I also will not be responding to you or “your friend” any further. I wish you luck, and I hope you find what you’re looking for.
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