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koushisatori · 3 years ago

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if you can't believe in others, at least believe in us

kyoutani x gn!reader

genre: as ordered: a bit of angst w a touch of comfort

warnings: one (1) big jealous idiot, miscommunication

word count: 5.4k

note: this is smth an anon asked me to do (but like...nearly a year ago, I'm not sure if anon is still there or if they remember and my dumbass deleted the ask so I just beta-ed through whatever I had but I know they called me out on enjoying jealous characters so here we go) I'm sorry, mysterious anon, I'm stupid </3 Anyway, that's that. I don't remember if reader was supposed to be female or not so I made it gn!reader (but if I forgot to change something, pls tell me so I can fix any errors c: It's also my first attempt I apologize in advance)

In the beginning, you weren't sure why your boyfriend is ignoring you

You can't remember doing something that would annoy him, nor do you remember an instant of anger in his eyes that would give you a hint about his reasoning to stay away from you

He explained early on that sometimes he just needs a day of distance because Kentarou could feel the anger simmering right under the surface, enough that something small could tick him off already, and he would hate if you were on the receiving end of this unexplained fury

Both of you also made sure to promise each other to clearly communicate, the relationship between the two of you would not last long if you're not properly telling each other what might be bothering or hurting...just in general cross a boundary

Communication probably was one of the most important aspects of your relationship

cue to the actual situation: your boyfriend avoiding you

So, Monday evening you think maybe it's this overwhelming sensation of unexplained anger and that something at morning practice ticked him off completely

But then Tuesday comes and goes, and your boyfriend had avoided you all day long, did not even bother to read your messages,

on Wednesday, you try to talk to him, but all he does is glaring at you with a look that leaves you speechless and kind of heartbroken,

Thursday is the day you're replaying everything you did on Monday, trying to find something that he could have misunderstood, yet no matter how hard you think about it…your brain won't come up with a reason that explained why Kentarou was so upset with you!

So you decide to make him talk to you on Friday

Enough is enough, right? For gods' sake, he is your boyfriend! You miss him and his strong arms that give hugs so warm that you melt right into them

You don't get a second alone with him until school ends

you practically sprint out of the school building over to the gym, knowing that he had a free hour, which means that he is probably the first person there - your only chance

There he is, sitting with his back to you, aggressively chewing on a bun filled with chicken - his usual that reminded him of his favorite dish - glaring holes into the ground

After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you carefully aks: ''Kentaro…Ken…?'', slowly stretching out your hand, wanting to rest it on his shoulder to maybe help to soothe him a bit

he flinches instead and his heated, agitated gaze meets your eyes, making you recoil in return

''…will you talk to me, I miss you…'' you say softly, realizing how it hurt being ignored by him

''Ah, suddenly you miss me…'' he spits, narrowing his eyes ''…didn't fucking seem like it the last time I saw you…''

''Kentaro, baby, I have no idea what you mean,'' you plead, keeping your voice low to hide the desperation lacing it, confusion written all over your features

all Kyoutani does is growl, hopping down from where he's sitting while shouldering his gym bag

''...shouldn't have been so flirty with Shittykawa like that then-'' he grumbles - ''Ken, I didn't-'' you insist, but he continues ''twirling your hair, batting your pretty eyelashes at him, fuck you Y/N, if you want him, then feel free to take a fucking leave" Kyoutani cusses, not even listening to you

You shake your head, ''Kentaro, no, you totally misunderstood the situation,'' you follow up, panic seeping into your voice now that you knew what he referred to, ''I love yo-''

''Tsk'', he moves to leave

you try to take his hand but, instead of turning around, Kyoutani just rips it away from you, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket

from behind you, you hear Yahaba and Oikawa approaching (talking about Volleyball and Captains duties)

once they guessed what must have happened, they offered you their help (they both swear that Kyoutani will never ever find a ''cute s/o as you are, y/n-chan, I'm worried for my little angry pomeranian kohai'' )

Usually, you would try to talk to him, but after enduring a week of radio silence and now this treatment, you were tired of upholding something that seemed like a lost cause

you just wave both setters off and leave the school grounds, a frown plastered onto your lips and tears swimming in your eyes

Kentarou had not listened to you, did not even really look at you, and the few seconds he did, his eyes were filled with rage instead of the warmth he had usually reserved for you (and only for you)

If your boyfriend thinks avoiding you for a week and blaming you for something ridiculous without hearing you out is how you handle a relationship…maybe you would have to consider not pursuing it any longer

Which is easier said than done

The whole night you wait for a message, anything, and then all Saturday morning

you still had hope left

You get one from Yahaba, who tells you that Oikawa tried to clear up the situation as well after the reason for your fight dawned on him (Kyoutanis piss poor mood and behavior towards him a strong indicator) but Kentaro, again, just ran off

The future team captain even called you after your lackluster answer, listening to you getting the frustration and sadness out of your system

It didn't matter, right? Your boyfriend decided to unofficially call it quits by implying that your feelings for him were not genuine instead of using his mouth to talk to you and disregarding everyone involved

as if he wanted to ignore the truth as a convenient excuse to get out of your relationship

that's the conclusion your brain came up with

You softly sniffle in the privacy of your room, clutching a pillow to your chest (which has seen more tears in the last two days than in the past three years), deciding that it would be a good idea to go into the city to treat yourself

knowing that your mother has a hair-dresser appointment somewhen today, you go and announce that you would join her to finally buy the latest season of your favorite series

once there, you additionally get microwave popcorn, chocolate, and ice cream, as well as a pretty shirt you saw on a mannequin while window shopping

you feel a lot better after spending some money and ignoring the lingering sadness of your presumable break up with Kyoutani (who you love ok, it is not that easy)

In between your stops, you meet Iwaizumi and Oikawa munching on fatty burgers (celebrating your cheat days like a holiday and indulging in whatever your heart desires, is what makes it easier to stick with healthier habits the rest of the time was the questionable explanation coming from the brown-haired setter, pointing at you with a soggy potato fry)

after a moment, the setters eyes turn sad, a frown replacing the smile on his lips

he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you from going just yet, apologizing for being the cause of your fight and for being unable to talk some sense into him

(you assure him that it is not his fault, knowing that your friend will probably brood over it otherwise, which wouldn't be fair)

Iwaizumi adds that Kyoutani will come around and that his cooldown time is just longer than those of other people (and if not, he will give him one of his famous volleyballs to the head and use his status as only truly respected senpai to talk some sense into him) but you again decline their suggestions

after saying goodbye (and seeing Iwaizumi give his best friend an assuring gentle pat on his shoulder, the secret softy in the usual harsh ace shining through)

If Kentaro was willing...able to throw away your relationship this easily, he can't possibly really love you, and you'd accept this even if it's hard and painful

Now remembered of what you had attempted to forget about, you feel your eyes sting with unshed tears (you thought there was no possibility of you having more tears to spill, yet the impossible seemed to be the case) you look down at your phone to text your mom and frown

Kentaro 🥰: we need to talk. Kentaro 🥰: meet me there [location]

For a second, you hesitate, biting your lower lip harshly…you really want to go and talk to him but…

The tears still sting in your eyes and blurring your view reminded you of what you had gone through the whole time, and that it was his turn to finally come to you

break up or makeup, the ball was in his court now

so while walking to where your mother would be waiting for you, you begin to type

You: No.

You: I waited for you all week, even though you ignored me, and now you expect me to run the moment you choose to stop being a childish idiot?

You: if you decide to speak to me then comqjdkn

Kentarou wouldn't say he feels particularly bad. Not at all! If someone was to ask him, he would probably answer fucking peachy, what the fuck are you asking for or growl angrily. No one would bat an eye and further question him, nor guess that maybe he wasn't as great as he pretended because he missed his gorgeous better half, but…it was his fault, wasn't it?

Of course, he originally thought he had a valid reason to be upset. And if he had just spoken to you about it, everything would be solved now. Instead of being a decent boyfriend, though, his pride overtook his thinking processes once he realized that his behavior wasn't even the slightest bit justified. Not that he knew this when he saw you speaking with Shittykawa right before school. All he could see was his gorgeous s/o shyly fiddling with her fingers, conversing with a leaned forward, very involved Oikawa Tooru. He would have fetched you away from the brown-haired setter. He had no qualms about showing his possessiveness. God, Kentarou wouldn't have hesitated to growl at the tall, brown-haired boy if not for the question he heard coming from the Captain.

''Y/N-chan, how is it that you, an adorable, charming individuum, is with a brute like Mad Dog-chan? I really-'' Well, that's where he decided to leave you with the setter. He didn't need to hear your answer. Didn't want to witness an excuse or maybe the truth. If both of you were so fucking smitten with each other to flirt this blatantly, why don't you just go and cheer for him, hold his hand, and kiss his cheek goodbye? It was his choice to distance himself.

Kyoutani couldn't help the feeling of betrayal and hurt washing over him. Maybe you just used him as a stepping stone to get closer with Oikawa, and Kyoutani has been too blind to see it. He never doubted you or your relationship before, but it's not a secret how eruptive Kyoutani could be. It has always been beyond his imagination how someone so cute and sweet like you could love a person like him. Your friends thought so. The teachers. The whole school! Everyone questioned your poor judgment. And when you came running up to him, you're cheery voice calling out for him, everyone present looked at you like you grew a second head. It's the reason why seeing you with Trashykawa ticked him off so bad. It catered to his biggest insecurities and fears. He knew that all those skeptics would be delighted to see you, everyone's darling, with the schools' star setter. They all would agree that the pretty, handsome young man is a better fit than the always hostile-looking troublemaker.

While Kyoutani didn't take Oikawa seriously in most cases, he undoubtedly was one of the most devoted people Kentarou had ever met. If Oikawa wanted to get a new serve right, he wouldn't stop trying and repeating it until his legs gave in, and Iwaizumi dragged him out of the gym. When he wanted to find more advanced players to practice with, so he could, in return, give this new knowledge to his team, there was no way he would not manage to make it happen. Even if his ideas, wishes, and plans cost him blood, sweat, and tears (like getting Kyoutani to actually train), Oikawa never backed down. Kentarou had heard that Oikawa's last girlfriend dumped him because of his passion for Volleyball. Yet Kyoutani couldn't help but think that, in you, the ambitious setter would have found someone that would be able to handle it. You usually came over to watch the team when you knew that Kyoutani was there to play. You sat on the stands with your homework in your lap and a Seijoh-coloured pencil wiggling between your fingers, not bothered by the noises coming from the court. You play with your earlobe while you frown at whatever problem you came across. You patiently wait for practice to finish. Kentarou was sure that you'd be someone Oikawa would actually try for. You weren't one of his squealing fangirls, hanging from his arm on every opportunity, but his friend. You didn't pester him to take selfies with you while pushing cute bentos into his hands. When you bring food to practice, then it's for the whole team to share. If he wanted you, Oikawa would probably have to win you over and make sure that you'd stay. Courting and all that jazz. In all seriousness, Shittykawa would be a fucking idiot if not.

The dyed-blond wing spiker had been so sure that he was rightfully mad that he didn't stop to think twice before he reacted this coldly towards you. But, and this made it even worse, Kentarou knew that he was wrong the moment you asked what happened after an entire week of enduring his silent treatment. The second he heard your shaky voice and saw the tears welling up in your eyes, his brain rebooted, and suddenly he wasn't so sure of his own reasoning. You two were together for about half a year. Kyoutani - by now - was confident in his ability to identify most of your expressions. All he could decipher in your eyes was pain, paired with a need to understand, but…if he was in the wrong…it would mean that he had hurt you the whole week, which in conclusion implied that Kentarou had been the world's shittiest boyfriend. Fuck, he thought, I don't deserve y/n.

His situation didn't get any better the moment Oikawa entered the gym. The person Kyoutani thought he had a real reason to despise now tried to mend the rift between the two of you.

''Mad Dog-chan, I think you misunderstood something there. Well, no, you decided to not listen-'' The taller male says, hands gesturing wildly. While his voice still had that annoyingly cheery tone, it had something commanding hidden underneath. And oh, how Kentarou hated when someone demanded something of him, even if it was for his own good. ''Don't want to hear it.'' the blond mutters, already aggravated. The brown-haired setter resolutely puts himself in the way again. ''Oh, but you have to! That morning, Y/N-chan literally declared her love for yo-'' - ''I don't fucking care.'' Kentarou barks, not looking Oikawa in the eyes.

After another fruitless attempt to get properly into the gym, he growls and turns to leave. Already on his way to grab his stuff and take a leave, he hears Oikawa yelling. ''You answered and justified why I asked Y/N-chan to begin with!" And then louder, even though he could make out Iwaizumi trying to wrestle his childhood friend back into the gym, "APOLOGIZE, YOU IDIOT! YOU BETTER GROVEL FOR Y/N'S FORGIVENESS! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS SHOW YOU'RE PUTTING ON, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

This happened on Friday evening, and the guilt was gnawing away on him ever since. On his way home, Kyoutani had automatically taken the detour to your house. Kentarou enjoyed bringing you home (and more often than not, you pulled him inside with you, making him cuddle you!). It makes him feel like a good boyfriend, and he knew that you arrived there safely. He would never tell anybody and deny it if you ever decided to share this, but Kentarou relished in the feeling of your hand holding his all the way while going on about your day. He admired that you'd pet every cat and every dog you meet on the trip home together with him. You were perfect for him…why again did he act like this?

What caused Kyoutani's attempt to apologize - in his usual overly blunt and partly aggressive kind of way - was Yahaba, though. Both boys denied being remotely something beyond 'not really enemies'. But his future team captain was definitely one of the very few people that could and would tell him to his face that he fucked up without real repercussions. He would presumably even help Kyoutani to get it together.

After Yahaba had called you and listened to your heartbreaking rant, the setter realized that you, his friend, and his 'not really enemy' needed to talk ut out. Totally immersed in your tirade, you accidentally let slip that you couldn't endure Kyoutani's treatment any longer. That being pushed over by your boyfriend with brash and hurtful words after handling the cold shoulder was too much. That you expected Kyoutani to break up with you on Monday either way. In-person, if he had mercy on you or continue his treatment as a silent method of doing so. While you told Yahaba about your planned ''get over it-self-care'' weekend (involving tons of ice cream, movies with crying guarantee, lots of blankets, and no smartphone), the setter had already put on his jacket, shooting a message to Kyoutani.

From Yahaba: get your stupid fucking ass outside to meet me, or I'll bench you the complete season next year

Even though the wing spiker was sure that Yahaba's words were nothing but empty words, Kentarou allowed himself to accept this threat as an excuse to put his pride aside. Because, even though Yahaba annoyed him to no end - not as bad as Oikawa but still - Kentarou was also aware that you and he were friends. If someone could help him gaining your forgiveness, Kyoutani had to accept and admit that it was Yahaba. Meeting his light brown-haired teammate was kind of awkward. Kyoutani was unsure what he had to expect, though he should have seen the rough treatment coming. Yet, getting told that you, the person Kentarou was undeniably in love with, felt so neglected and hurt that you deemed this relationship to be as good as over allowed the guilt monster in his chest to grow. Shitty Oikawa was probably right ordering him to grovel and beg on his knees for you to even hear him out.

Your answer to his message was partly unlike you. Well, the last sentence. You usually were pretty forward with him to avoid miscommunication and uncalled-for moping around. And while you sometimes send keyboard smashes to express the chaos you felt, they were always in a separate message and not so…random. The text definitely meant something like ''then come to me'' but somehow, Kyoutani had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

Besides, he couldn't just wait till Monday and hope that you'd accept his apology! You may send him away today already, but he still had a teeny-tiny bit of hope. If he let the thoughts of him leaving you or the other way around fester in your mind for two whole days, though,…you'd probably realize that leaving him wasn't that bad of a decision. You'd come to the conclusion that all your admirers could treat you better than Kyoutani did. And he was too selfish to let you leave. Even though all he did the whole week was being self-centered and stuck up, he would be damned to begin being a saint now and let you go. That you at least were willing to talk to him was…a relief, to say the least. Kentarou hoped that this translated to you being willing to put up with him a little longer if he apologized correctly. That you're not opposed to giving him another chance to make things right.

At your house, he was greeted with darkness. Not even a single light illuminating any of the rooms he could see from his spot on your front lawn. And the ones he saw were your and your mom's most-used rooms. Your room window, your mothers' workroom, and the living room area with an adjacent kitchen. All of those rather significant rooms and the lack of light in them seemed to be a dead giveaway for Kyoutani that no one was home. Kyoutani guessed that you were probably out with your mom, glancing over to the empty spot in front of the garage.

Oh god, your mother had been the only supportive person of your relationship. Maybe it's in your family to see the best in everyone, even in shitty people like him. But if you told her about his behavior, she'd most likely not welcome him with a smile ever again, no matter if you forgave him.

There weren't many things Kyoutani could do in this situation, but it wasn't as late as nature let it on, and after a few seconds, he had decided to sit down at the front door and wait for you, hoping that it wouldn't take too long for you to come home. As if fate wanted to tell him something, the wing spiker had put on the jacket with the half-full power bank. He had worn it to the shelter when he visited it this week while distracting himself from your absence in his daily life. You had gifted him the piece of clothing, which is probably why he unconsciously had decided to wear it to everything he did after school in the first place.

Kentarou passed the time by snarling at people eyeing him for a moment too long to not be judgmental, petting the neighbors' cat wandering over to him, and watching videos. Every time he thought ''Y/N would like this'', his heart stuttered guilty.

To Kentarou, it felt like an eternity until your mother's car finally drove up the entry. To avoid your mother's potentially deadly stare, he nervously checked his mobile, realizing that he had waited for a little more than 3 hours. Yet, the wait had done nothing to soothe his nerves. They instantly spiked up again while his heart threatened to jump out of his throat.

She will hate me. Your mother would hate me, she'll hate me, she'll ha-

''Ah, Ken-chan! Good evening.'' Your mother greets him with a tired, yet still gentle smile. Oh. The blond blanches. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed the treatment he received from your mother more than he should. Being spoken to without suspicion and receiving a warm smile every time without fail was a welcome change to his daily life. Your mother didn't listen to people trying to bad-mouth him. To her, he simply was the boy that - normally - treats her child the way a mother wished for. Even if he pulled a face as long as a fiddle.

''I didn't know you were coming, Ken-chan, or I would have messaged you…but now that you're here, maybe you can assist us out and help Y/N inside? It would help a lot.'' His gaze immediately flitted over to you on the passenger seat. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and that stubborn but endearingly cute pout on your lips, he nearly missed the tiredness your body emitted. Kentarou wanted to rush over to your side immediately but was stopped by your mother again. ''I don't know what you two are fighting about…but please talk to each other. I don't want my baby to be this sad. Especially now, and…'' she rests a hand on his shoulder, her eyes kind and comforting ''…I also don't want to miss you here, alright?'' He stiffly nodded and watched your mother carrying in plastic bags filled with various medicine packages and food.

After coming back to his senses, Kyoutani finally stumbled over to your side, practically ripping open the car door. This new perspective revealed a plaster cast wrapping your whole left leg and a removable wrist brace on your right hand. ''Bab- Y/N…what the fuck…happened?'' His honey-brown eyes continued to wander over your injuries, and with every second, he found more. Scratches and scrapes, bandaids and bandages peeking out from underneath your clothes. ''I'm so sorry,'' he whispered, hanging his head low.

All your intentions to fight his helping hand and limp over to the door by yourself disintegrated into nothing. You never witnessed such a devastated, beaten expression on his face before. Instead, you settle for ''Will you help me?''. A question asked quietly to your fingers picking at a loose band-aid edge on your arm and pressing it back onto the irritated skin.

After you loosened your seatbelt, he waits for you to carefully place your arms around his neck. It is followed by Kyoutani lifting you out of the car so gently as if he was afraid you might break. This whole situation in itself already contradicting his brash appearance and usual behavior. It would give whiplash to all the people pretending to know him. But he was always caring in his own way when it came to you. It's why you loved him after all. Because you usually knew that he loved you, too.

For a few moments, the atmosphere between the two of you felt awkwardly tense, both of you unsure how to interact with each other. The mostly blonde wing spiker breathed out a sigh of relief when you fully leaned into his chest once he stood upright, resting your head against his shoulder. A bit of maneuvering through the front door eventually lead to Kyoutani passing through the hallway and taking you to your room, where he was gently lowering you down on the bed.

It was a now or never kind of situation. For the both of you. While Kentarou was trying to find out where to begin his apology, he took a few steps back in case you wanted space until everything was cleared up.

You unconsciously helped him making a decision by impulsively grasping onto his shirt the moment he started to withdraw, stopping him in his retreating movement. Kentarou saw your lower lips wobbling, teary eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

''Please stay,'' you say weakly, which is enough for him to throw the whole thinking process away and simply sit down next to you, intertwining both your hands. ''I'm staying. I'm not leaving. Not now nor this relationship if you still want...an ''us''. The wing spiker took a deep, shuttering breath. '' I'm sorry, Y/N…'' he finally manages to say, honey eyes locked onto your linked your hands. ''I have been fucking stupid all week. 've been a fucking terrible boyfriend, the worst to ever exist.''

As if to encourage him...to show your boyfriend that his apology was not for nothing, you shuffled around until the last bit of distance between the two of you was closed. You hum, acknowledging his words while leaning your head on his shoulder.

''I didn't think you're cheating or something, …'' Kyoutani immediately assures you. There was no way he would allow you to think that he would accuse you of something like this. ''I had no reason to be jealous, but I was insecure. Let it get the best of me. Despite our promise to communicate, I was sulking. 't was easier. I'll do whatever the fuck you want for you to not give up yet…'' he says, taking his time with every sentence.

With a sigh, you squeeze his hand. ''It will probably take a lot of cuddling and attention from you...'' you say thoughtfully ''...but I forgive you…if you promise to not do this again…'' you murmur, tilting your head upward to press a chaste kiss to his jaw. ''Otherwise, I'll accept Iwaizumi-san's offer to get your thinking process restarted.'' For a moment, your voice had its usual joking edge. But you knew talking out everything was necessary. ''But, in all honesty, 'Tarou....please, never do this again. I am honest. I will not endure this a second time. When you tell me that you need a day or two for yourself then that is totally fine. If you feel yourself giving into whatever insecurity, talk to me about it. I am sure there will be an explanation or a solution but don't leave me in the dark. Don't treat me like that. I love you. Only you and no one else. But the time love can withstand straight-up ignorance by your partner is limited.''

Slowly, your boyfriend nodded, squeezing your hand to tell you that he understood. You would probably cling to him for a while but were sure that he would survive the extra closeness. Not even half a second later, his head leans onto yours cautiously.

''…and try being nicer to Oikawa-san, Tarou, he hasn't done anything to you.'' You add humorously before small giggles started to erupt from your lips. ''Also...Baby…'' you start, being interrupted by choked-up hiccups and giggles. By using your nickname for him, you take away another persistent fear of his. What he does not miss, however, is how you wince in pain before you continue, ''…who helped you put this into words? I mean…I loved it, but…,'' You leave unsaid that words usually are not his strong fort.

Biting back a smile, he frowns, huffs, and puffs…, but the way you are looking up at him, eyes shining with relief and adoration, allows him to admit defeat. He sighs ''…it's how Yahaba said I should say it…'' It usually would be an odd enough statement to make you throw yourself all over him with laugher. As a slight replacement, you squeeze his hand a bit, still shaking with suppressed laughter. ''I promise…that I will talk to you. Can't promise the Shittykawa part.'' Another soft chuckle leaves your lips before you look up at him again. ''I hope you try nonetheless. You should not let Iwaizumi-san hear you calling Oikawa-san that, though, I don't think this would turn out well for you…so...maybe stop this at least.'' Kentarou rolls his eyes at you, but in the end, he nods.

You wait for another second to clearly distinguish the two topics before you continue. ''…Thank you…for coming and finally speaking with me instead of break-'' A hand on your lips muffles your words.

''Don't say these words. I'd never break up with you,'' Kentarou grumbles, a light, uncharacteristic light pink settling on his cheeks. You stick your tongue out, which leads to him taking his hand off of your face with a surprised noise, rather dumbfounded that you had licked his hand. It gives you the chance to lean up and finally press your lips against his. ''I'm not leaving you either,'' you murmur, feeling his lips twitch upwards slightly. You decide to leave the teasing for another day.

Moving back into your previous position was enough of a hassle to hiss in pain. It brought back Kyoutani's awareness of the second problem at hand. ''What did happen to you?'' Kyoutani asks in an attempt to tamper down the excited, happy beating of his heart.

''Oh, this...uh, when I answered your text, I got driven over by a dude on a bicycle,'' you casually drop. It was kind of entertaining to watch his expressions change at an unequaled pace while processing your words. In the end, it settled into something akin to passive-aggressive worry. The way he was immediately fretting over you while cursing and cussing out the bicycle dude was his own way of caring. As you watch him retrieving the food your mother bought, while mumbling about how you're a dumbass for not paying attention to your surroundings, how he'd come over every day until you could go to school again to bring and teach you the stuff you would miss and how he would fucking murder the bicycle idiot if he ever finds out who dared to drive you over, you can't help the smile forming on your lips.

Once again, you are proven that loving him - while occasionally troublesome and demanding - was everything but wrong.

#haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #kyoutani x reader #kyoutani x y/n #kyoutani x you #seijoh x reader #aoba josai x reader #mad dog x reader #eeeeh i hope I didn't forget anything #tw jealousy #cw jealousy #????#y/n lowly humming the you kinda smell like a baka sound and he just </3 #deserved though

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imagineimpact · 3 years ago

Note

Hello!! I fell in love with your latest Albedo one shot because man, relate😭🤚 Anyways if you are still taking reqs, can I ask for a s/o who supresses their anger? Like, it was put into their mind that anger and also sadness is vunerability they can't show. Pick anyone you want to pair up with them and yeah go wild ig lol

Btw, stay safe and hydrate❤

Perhaps I went a bit off the prompt with this one (my mind went to angst and I ran with it), but alas~

Enjoy!

Stop Hiding

Kaeya x G/N reader

“You don’t mind, do you, love?” Kaeya tapped his fingers on the kitchen counter, leaning across to you.

You stiffen at his words and press your lips into a fine line.

“No. Go ahead.” Your voice is flat.

But Kaeya has heard the words he wants to hear, and so what can you really say when he smiles at you, pushes himself off the counter and mutters a vague ‘I knew you would understand’?

When he comes around the counter to bid you a farewell for the day, his arm wraps around your waist and you feel yourself tense under his touch. He’s quick to notice.

“Are you alright?”

“Perfectly.” You give him a stiff smile. His eyes narrow.

“… right. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He kisses you on the cheek, a gesture you practically ignore.

He wanders out the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts in the cold of the destitute house.

Kaeya would be working late, so as he says. Why he was lying to you, you weren’t certain.

It’s was the cycle for the past few weeks; He would tell you that he had to work late, and you would stop by the Favonius headquarters to talk to Lisa only to hear about how Kaeya left hours ago.

It was infuriating.

But even as his footsteps trailed away from the house and toward wherever he was going, you kept that stiff smile on your face, the reflection of your pain in the glass cutting into your own self. You drop it. After all, why bother feeling something so horrible?

You have things to get done anyway; It’s not worth your time.

—

That evening, you find yourself wandering the streets of Mondstadt to take your mind off of the thoughts you were having. Unusual for you, you wander towards the seemingly single source of life in this entire city.

The Angel’s Share is brimming with energy and full of lively individuals this evening, as with every other. Diluc stands behind the bar quietly rinsing out a glass and absentmindedly working.

He glances up at you. “Oh, y/n, good to see you.” He gives you a polite smile, eyes returning to the glass. “Can I get you anything?”

“Oh, uh, maybe just some grape juice today. I’m not really feeling great.”

“Hmm. Alright.” His eyes seem to assess you for a moment, then he swiftly spins around to make your drink.

“Unusual for you to be here. If you’re looking for Kaeya, he’s upstairs.”

Your entire body tenses, and you feel yourself shutting down. “Kaeya’s here?”

Diluc looks over at you, actions in pause. “Is that not why you’re here?”

“You’re not kidding, are you?” The question was more like a resignment. Diluc could tell.

He slides the juice over to you. “You didn’t know that Kaeya was-“

“No, I didn’t. It’s fine.” You lift the glass to your lips, pausing just before you liquid touches your lips. “Thank you, for the juice.”

Diluc’s eyes betray him.

When you come to, you follow them and spot a chatty Kaeya talking to another patron with a lack of his energetic smooth self he usually does.

You watch Kaeya slip out of the booth, turning away from his conversation before he spots your gaze.

“Diluc, I’ll have another…” his voice drops to a whisper. “…oh.”

His voice indicates surprise to you, but you can’t bear to look up at him.

“So, working late again, huh?” Your voice is flat, but your grip on the glass of juice tightens, your gaze fixed upon it as if trying to break it with your mind rather than your hands.

“My dear, I swear it’s-“

“Right.” You finish your glass and stand up. “Thank you, Diluc.” You stick your hand into your pocket unceremoniously and take out the coins needed for the drink.

“No need. On the house.” His voice is quiet, as if wanting to leave little impact.

“No, I insist.” You give him a smile. You can tell that he won’t believe it but you can’t be bothered anyway. The coins clink on the counter - you know he won’t take it otherwise.

You turn your smile to Kaeya. “I’ll see you in the- Well, at some point. Right, love?”

Any other words you hear are lost on you as you wander out into the depth of the night, alone.

Kaeya watches you leave, an estranged expression plastered on his face. “They took that well.”

“It’s just like a Favonius knight to lack any proper observational skills or be even slightly investigative. It’s not like it’s part of your job or anything.”

“Don’t use this to slander the knights, Diluc.”

“You’re an idiot.” Diluc takes a long sigh, looking over at his brother. “The rage was seething in their eyes, how could you not tell?”

“Always trying to insist you know more about my own life than I do." He tisked. "If y/n was angry, then there would have been yelling.”

“You’re self absorbed, as always." Diluc lifts your half-empty glass from the counter and starts to clean it. "Kaeya, you have to realise that they don’t express anger the same way you do.”

“They weren’t angry.”

“They were. You could see it if you weren’t so blinded by your own ego.”

Kaeya huffed, but looked to the door.

“Why do you think they think you were here? Why did you lie to y/n?”

“I’m on a case-“

“Then you better go tell them that before they leave you.”

Kaeya laughs a little, then notices Diluc’s expression, flat as ever. The laugh falls off. There was never a joke.

“You’re serious. They… this doesn’t look good, does it?”

The bartender raised an eyebrow at the sudden switch of self-awareness. “The door is right there. You’re banned until you resolve this, one way or another. Get out.”

Kaeya scoffs once more, but couldn’t deny his mistakes.

His footsteps are nervous as they leave the tavern, though speed up drastically as he paces out the door and into the night.

His instinct tells him that his logic is wrong, but his mind tells him that the only logical place for you to go would be back home.

His mind races but his feet move faster than he can think and he’s going to reach you but he needs to know where. He starts running, hoping to catch up to you or at least spot your moving frame in the flickering lights.

You can hear the patter of heavy, striding footsteps leading away from your direction, toward the place you both call home. The stars twinkle above in a quiet peace that can only be meant to mock you.

You’re not sure if you even want to go back home at this point. Can you even call it home?

Even in your solitude, you refuse to show the decrepit weaknesses of a human. Tears refuse to fall from your eyes and you lean against the outer wall of Mondstadt in an attempt to force that shaking of your anger to cease. Even the cold of the wind blowing on your skin is a feeling you refuse to acknowledge. That's the one feeling I should be used to. It's a horrible thought.

You can feel yourself almost cracking - your eyes wander downward to the water below, the cliff a dangerous temptation of freedom.

By no means will you let yourself move, for fear of any display of irrationality you may subject yourself to.

“Stay still.” Your voice whispers to yourself, as if separate. “Freeze.”

The word itself reminds you of him.

A sound shatters the still air around you - the crack of rolling thunder. A storm approaches.

You don’t move.

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prettygores · 3 months ago

Text

"Bass, cut it out." Volchok did what any other laid back dad would do, he scolded Sebastian with the same kind of leisure enthusiasm he showed towards Isadora's latest fung shui. Kids will be kids. And if his was anything like him, the more Volchok tells Sebastian not to do something, the more he wants to do it just to spite him. "As for your car - I do know how to drive a stick shift, asshole. You forget I was friends with Romeo before you. That kid was obsessed with cars. Almost as much as he was obsessed with claiming your title way back when." Were it not for Romeo, Volchok and Isadora probably would've never met or had the life they have now. He was the one who set them up before Isadora repaid the favor in introducing him to Brooke. Not that, Kev was going to bring that whole mess up. Tyler probably got the idea anyway.

"Ev being there actually makes it better. For my amusement though, of course. Because no, yeah. When you remind Brooke of that detail.... I fear for your life. Your wife scares me." Brooke may be small and cute. But, big things often come in small packages. She was ferocious when she needed to be. And her tongue could cut you to pieces, better than any knife could. Volchok and her went at it sometimes. But, it was all done out of some twisted form of brotherly and sisterly love. "I drank the last beer this morning. Don't tell Isa that." He wasn't supposed to drink while supervising the tasmanian devil. Because, clearly it never ended well. Something always went wrong. Sometimes, having a son though, one needed a drink. Or several just to make it through the day. "Yeah we can head out and find us something to eat or drink on the way to the park. I could use the fresh hair. These eucalyptus diffusers have been giving me a headache. But, don't expect me to grocery shop. I leave that to Isadora because otherwise according to her, I come home with junk food and am looking to poison my kid by overdosing him on red 40." Which is a chemical or ingredient or something apparently, that's found in most popular foods that people love.

Just as Volchok ascends from the couch, the devil herself walks in and forces him to suspiciously tuck the red velvet box back into his pocket. Meanwhile Everly shouts, pop-pose! at the top of her lungs and earns a glare from Volchok and a laugh from Isadora. Thank god she doesn't put two and two together or else, Everly should be the one in time out. "Sure did, angelbaby. The kid and I cheered you on. And I had to take a potty break to sort myself out.... hence the mess." He didn't care if Tyler was privy to his confession of beating himself off to his soon-to-be wife. Volchok had no shame as he gripped Isadora's waist to tie her down with a long kiss. She tasted as sweet and cherry-licious as she always did. Big thanks to her favorite lipgloss.

"Yeah, yeah..." Kev was waving them both off as Isadora vanished from sight and Tyler questioned his plans. "I already bought the ring. It's a done deal." At least, in his eyes it was. "Grab Ev and let's go. Bass, come on. Put down the blocks." After collecting their kids, the four of them embark on walk towards the nearest grocery store for snacks and drinks. Sebastian attempts to stuff candy into his diaper and manages to succeed with a lollipop, while Volchok gathers a case of beer, some premade sandwiches, and more grape juice. He holds off on any more proposal talk until they make it to the park and the kids are too distracted by butterflies to listen and repeat what's being said. "So.... how should I do it? How did you do it? Do I give a speech or just keep it simple and sweet?"

Meanwhile, back at their apartment, Brooke finishes signing off on her latest YouTube video just as Isadora walks in -- brown paper bag in hand. "Oh thank god! Did you get it? They didn't see you grab it, did they?" Brooke texted Isadora late last night after Tyler drifted off to sleep with worries that she might be pregnant again. Her period was late. Which sure, they could've chalked up to stress but knowing her and Tyler... it was possible. Especially after Brooke insisted he not pull out the last time they had sex and waste perfectly good cum on their bedsheets. "I told myself the next time I took a test, I would wait for Tyler. Which I will but, I don't have time to run out and buy one in the midst of all we've got going on." She barely had time to shower or brush her teeth some days but she managed, somehow. "Remind me why, I act like such a slut? Because, I almost always regret it when this kind of stuff happens. Too much is going on. We cannot have another baby right now. I will kill myself." Not really, she's just being dramatic. Brooke would happily give Tyler all the children he wants. But right now, wasn't the best time for that. He just kickstarted his company and Brooke was in way over her head with her own workload. She wanted to relieve stress, not add more of it to their lives.

Tyler has no room to get mad at Volchok for teaching Everly the f-word, not after calling his son a little shit, but irritation still flashes behind his eyes. "We've only been here for five minutes...and so far Sebastian has ruined my pants and now Everly knows the f-word." He complains but, at least fut doesn't sound as bad as shit. For some reason, she was better at repeating her daddy's vocabulary than anyone else's. "If you think Brooke is going to fight you over Isadora, she will." The two were still as thick as thieves. Isadora has been over their apartment countless times to film for Brooke's YouTube channel. Tyler would mind but, he'd rather Isadora get pulled into all the trends, rather than him. It's embarrassing enough there's a video of him getting his makeup done by Brooke online. It was a few years old but, she's been begging him to film an updated one with Everly. Her subscribers might love it but, his employees won't. They would make him a laughingstock. Then again, all Everly has to do is pout and he would turn into Ken Barbie for her, and let her paint anything she wants on his face.

"Where's the beer?" Tyler was on the verge of standing up from the couch when Volchok produced the little red box from his pocket. "I'm already married. I'm flattered, but I have to reject." He couldn't help himself despite the seriousness of the matter. Asking Isadora to marry him was a huge deal. Tyler could still remember how nervous and anxious he felt before asking Brooke to be his wife. In the beginning, he didn't think she would turn him down. But towards the end, he wasn't sure. They were arguing a lot and their secrets kept them at arms-length. Which, is why Volchok should ask soon if he really wants to do this. "Are you still waiting on that perfect moment? Trust me, it doesn't fall out of thin air. You have to create it yourself. You could take her out on a date. Brooke and I will babysit Sebastian for you. That is, if he stops being a little shit." Tyler looks over his shoulder at both him and Everly. Sebastian has a purple ring around his mouth from the grape juice, and smiles without many teeth. "fuk...fuk...fuk." Sebastian giggles, and Everly laughs. "Fuk fuk." She repeats and Tyler looks to Kev for help. "Okay, now he's teaching her it ends with a k. Which, makes it sound way clearer. Put the little shit in time out." That's still a thing, right? Tyler wouldn't know. He didn't have a traditional upbringing. When he was bad in the orphanage, the nuns would paddle him. Then a few adoptive parents would take things further by using their fists. But Tyler would never lay a finger on his sweet girl.

"And no, dip-shit. You can't have my car. It's a classic. Plus, I doubt you even know how to drive stick shift." Volchok wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. Although, he was getting pretty good at handling the security installations for their company. Which, reminds him. They have to install that update by the end of the night. "The vibrator would have been funnier if I didn't have Everly with me." Tyler stands up from the couch and heads into the kitchen to rummage the fridge for beer. As far as hostesses go, Volchok was the worst. He could have been a better shopper too. Their refrigerator was lacking anything remotely eatable. "I was going to head to the park, but do you want to go shopping instead? I can help you think of proposal ideas on the way." Just then the door opens and Isadora walks in. She's mortified by the mess, and almost slips on the puddle of juice from Sebastian's sippy cup. "pop-pose!" Everly cheers, and Isadora smiles before offering her a hug. She doesn't understand what pop-pose means but she's used to hearing gibberish from Sebastian. And Volchok, too. After kissing her son's head and wiping his mouth clean, she shuffles over and gives Volchok a long hug and kiss. "You better have watched me on the news! I looked so great. My boobs were huge. It was ten out of ten." Tyler rolls his eyes when he hears the boob comment. He would've offered her a hug, or a handshake, but a smile and nod would suffice. She doesn't seem bothered by it. His haphephobia (or whatever it is) wasn't new to her. "I'm heading back out. I just wanted to stop in and say hi first." Isadora blows kisses around and then glares at Kev in the doorway, "Clean this mess." With that being her final goodbye, she closes the door. Tyler looks to Volchok and shrugs. "You sure you want to pop-pose to that?" He asks while stifling a laugh.

#❝ muse ╱ brooke mckenzie.#❝ muse ╱ everly mckenzie.#❝ ship ╱ everly + tyler.#❝ ship ╱ everly + sebastian.#❝ muse ╱ kev volchok.#❝ brotp ╱ volchok + tyler.#❝ thread ╱ play date.

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wordsfromthesol · 3 years ago

Text

Hunted

Author: @wordsfromthesol Taglist: togasbetch malfoys-demigod pricetagofficial Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: You're a detective at Bludhaven PD with Dick Grayson and when a serial killer your after starts hunting you down, you have no choice but to ask for his help. Warnings: Kidnapping, stalking Word Count: 2.3k

You had been working at Bludhaven PD for about 2 years before the hotshot Dick Grayson came on the scene. Though you had grown into friends or at least friendly coworkers…he annoyed the shit out of you. After all, everything seemed to come so easy to the pretty boy Grayson and you could count the number of times you had actually seen him at the station on one hand. Thankfully this happened to be one of those times because you had run out of options.

"Dick, can I get your eyes on this case? I'm been staring at these files for hours and can't find the pattern. Yeah, they've obviously got a type. But that's not enough to go on."

Dick briefly runs through the file before staring blankly up at you. "You can't be serious, right? You need to take yourself off this case."

"People are dying, Dick." You had already assumed you would get some pushback from the star detective.

"I can't let you go after this guy. You're an exact match to all 5 people they've killed." Dick attempted to reason with you, to no avail.

"Then I'm the exact person who should go after this guy. Rather it be me than some civilian." Finally, Dick relented and gave you some useful information.

"Well…everyone was taken near an abandoned subway line." He takes out a highlighter and marks up the map. You tried to mask your nervousness as the bright yellow line stopped a block from your apartment.

"Thanks…I didn't even notice that." He nodded, still apprehensive about giving you the information, as he handed the file back to you. Tucking the papers away, you decided to finish up the research at home.

As you sauntered home, you were barely able to keep your eyes open. Stopping at the crosswalk, you noticed a man staring at you in your peripheral vision. You swore he was the same man from five blocks ago. Surely you were just paranoid…right? You began weaving in and out of the crowd, making a complete circle back to the crosswalk. Yet there he was in the corner of your eye. This wasn't paranoia. This was real. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and pressed Dick's contact card.

"Hey, uhm…remember that case we were talking about today?"

"You mean literally 20 minutes ago? Yeah, I remember."

A nervous chuckle escaped your lips, "Well you were probably right." Dick could hear the shakiness in your voice.

"He's following you, isn't he?"

Your current situation momentarily left your mind as the words tumbled out of your mouth, bypassing the brain. "How the fuck could you possibly know that?!"

"Don't go home. I'm coming to get you." You wanted to plead with him to stay on the line, but your stubbornness got the best of you. Slowing your pace, you attempted to stay in the crowd and walked straight. How was Dick even going to find you? As soon as the thought danced across your mind, there he was, as if you summoned him from thin air.

"Y/N!" The familiar voice called out from the street. A deep sigh of relief flooded over you as you trotted over to him. Crawling on the back of the motorcycle, you didn't bother asking where he was taking you. Anywhere was better than here.

"Wow. Just wow." Dick shook his head in awe as he climbed off the bike, ushering you into the apartment building.

"It's not like I planned it." You tried to force the uneasiness from your voice.

"Right, of course not. You realize he had to have been following you for days now, right? He knows where you live. You can't go back there." You hadn't really thought about that, yet where were you supposed to go? You looked at him pensively, unable to form a proper sentence. "Looks like you're staying here then." The alacrity of the statement caught you off guard.

"I can't just --"

"Right right. So let's go antagonize the serial killer. Genius." The sheer amount of sarcasm took you aback, this was a completely different side of the infamous Dick Grayson than you were used to.

You glared at him as he opened the door to his apartment. "So dramatic…besides, someone has to stop him. He's already after me, so I'm the perfect bait."

Dick's eyes went wide. He looked at you like you had three heads before bellowing, "ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT!"

"Do you have a better plan?" Part of you hoped he would begin rattling off some convoluted trap. One that didn't hold your life in the balance.

"Well…not yet. But I'm sure we can think of something. Give me a few days."

A few days came and went and you were losing your mind in Dick's apartment. The worst part was, you were never alone. Dick or one of his family members was always by your side. You weren't quite sure how some 14-year-old kid was supposed to do anything if said serial killer showed up, but Dick was insistent.

Finally, you caught a break. Jason, your latest babysitter got called away on some emergency and Dick wouldn’t be home for another hour. Of course, Jason informed you to tell Dick he left just moments ago, which actually worked in your favor. You dialed Captain Holt on your phone and began to strategize. The captain wasn't keen on using you for bait either, but eventually, you swayed him. Everything was planned to take place tomorrow afternoon, a time Dick just so happened to be testifying in court.

"Y/N?" The confusion spread across Dick's face as he opened the door.

"I'm here!" You called out from the bedroom before stepping into sight.

"Where's Jason?"

"Oh, family emergency. But he left like two minutes ago. Nothing to worry about."

"Okay…" Dick didn't sound convinced.

"I also got a call from the captain today. He wants to meet with me tomorrow at 2." You tried to play it off as a casual request, but you knew it wouldn't be that simple.

"What? Why? We still haven't caught the psychopath…plus I have court tomorrow."

"Dick, I'll be in a police station. You can drop me off on your way."

Dick let out an exasperated sigh, "Fine. But I don't like it."

You were absolutely terrified, but you tried your best not to let it show through. After all, you asked for this. Dick still seemed uneasy, even as he dropped you off at the precinct. You wondered if he could tell something was wrong. Though there wasn't much he could do at this point, considering he was due in court by noon.

"Y/N. Are you sure about this?" Captain Holt questioned as you walked into his office.

"No. But something needs to be done. This guy doesn't just give up. So either I'm bait and we have a chance at catching him, or I die a horrific death for no reason. Not the best of options."

Holt nodded in understanding, "Well everything is set up. We have snipers in position around the perimeter of your apartment and a dozen plain-clothed in the vicinity."

"So hopefully we have a chance. What about near the abandoned subway entrance? That's how Dick thinks he's staying out of sight."

"Covered. We are ready to go on your command. Though I still think Detective Grayson should be informed of the plan."

"He's in court. So he couldn't help out anyways. The fewer people that know, the better. Let's move."

You arrived at your apartment without any issues, though you could feel a million pairs of eyes on you. With everyone watching you, it would be hard to notice one more face. Nevertheless, you persisted, attempting to go about your day in your apartment. The apartment that now seemed so foreign to you, though you had only been unexpectedly ripped from it a week ago.

As the day went on you began to feel more and more lightheaded. Normally, you would chalk it up to stress, but given the situation, you decided otherwise.

"Captain…"

"There is still no sign of him," he ignored the strain in your voice.

"I think…he's already…here." A crashing sound was left ringing through the earpiece.

"I want everyone on her position now! Get me a visual!" Captain Holt's booming voice commanded those around him. "Where are my snipers?!" An eerie silence crept over the line. "Shit." He mumbled before pulling out his phone. The dial tone appeared to mock him until finally the other end picked up.

"What happened?" The stringent words reverberated in the air.

"He has her."

"Goddammit. How did he get her out of the precinct?" Dick didn't wait for an answer. "Because she wasn't in the precinct. How could you let her be bait? You've seen what this guy does!" The anger was bubbling up inside him. Out of everyone, why you. Why did he have to go after you?

"I know."

"How long? HOW LONG HAS HE HAD HER?!" Two cops turned towards Captain Holt as Dick's voice echoed from the speaker.

"About a minute. From her apartment." As soon as the word left his lips, the line went dead. Holt buried his head in his hands. If there was any hope of finding her, it was Dick Grayson.

You woke up in a cold, dark, concrete room. "Well, guess that didn't work out as planned…" You mumbled to yourself, or so you thought.

"Really? You thought a bunch of cops in blue jeans could stop me? I've been hunting you for months. Along with the others. But you. You were my challenge. I memorized everything about you. Your favorite breakfast, your confidants, what time you call your family. Lovely little folks, by the way. And then you thought you could hideaway in that pathetic little Richard Grayson's apartment. The only reason I didn't take you then is because I didn't want to. What kind of challenge would that be? That would have diminished everything!" He carefully stepped around your chair, weaving your hair in and out of his fingers, until he turned to face you. "But now, here you are! My masterpiece! My coup d'etat!" His lips forced their way to yours. "Don't worry, my sweet. I'll take my time with you. After all, the grand finale demands perfection!" The crazed man turned on his heel and sauntered out of the room, leaving you with your own horrific thoughts.

It felt like hours had gone by before he returned. When he walked in, his eyes went immediately to your wrists and fingernails, which were now bloodied beyond recognition. "Now I wish you hadn't done that. Blood does not make for a spectacular fossilization." He walked around and surveyed the damage. "I guess it was to be expected though. After all, it wouldn't be fun without the challenge."

"You know, you keep saying that this is some big challenge, yet you gassed me and then tied me up. That doesn't seem like you are really challenging yourself."

"Simple-minded fool! Challenges are not always those of brute force. It took planning and timing to get you here. Those 4 snipers set up on the surrounding roofs? Had to get them out of the way. A delay in your communication device? Truly a necessity. And though you had the foresight to add a few men to the abandoned subway tunnel, they neglected to surveil the associated maintenance hatches. So you see, your perfect encapsulation proves to be quite the…" You noticed a slight furrow of his brow as the sentence broke. "Challenge. Now to finish preparing the resin!" Off he galloped, but you swore something was off. A slight change in his mood.

You heard several loud bangs before your captor fell backward through the door. Nightwing loomed over his grisly body. Then his eyes shot up towards you.

"I'm okay." The words were forced from your throat. With those two small words, Nightwing glared down towards the man and began throwing punch after punch. "STOP! Please!" You screamed out the words, shocked at the vigilante's ferocity. Nightwing's eyes slowly shifted towards you. It was as if a twinge of pain ran its way through his body as he crept towards you. Once close enough, his hands carefully cradled your face until finally, he spoke.

"I don't know what I would have done without you. Why did you do something so stupid?" You could tell he wanted to say the words out of anger, yet a euphoric aura surrounded them instead.

Still confused, you began to answer as he unbound your wrists and ankles. "He wasn't going to give up. This was our chance to catch him…"

"I would've found another way!" The words burst out of him louder than expected. Nightwing let out a sigh as he helped you out of the chair.

"Alright, Dick, I'm sorry." You glanced at him for a reaction...nothing. Worried he didn't hear you, you pushed the point further. "Guess I should be glad you weren't in court long."

Dick stopped in his tracks, finally realizing his mistake. "I…uh…left early." As the two of you got outside, there were a dozen cop cars already swarming the area. Two of the officers came up to meet you.

"Detective! Are you alright? What happened?!" The first began to raddle off questions, but Dick quickly deflected.

"You can find out later. I'm taking her to the hospital. Your man is inside, unconscious."

"I can still talk ya'know…" You mumbled as the officer ran off to inform the others of the new information.

"Yeah, but then you'd try to convince me not to take you to the hospital. And that's not going to happen. But don't worry, the captain is on his way there now. You'll get to regale the entire course of events with him."

It was almost scary how well he knew you. "You'll stay too?" The simple question caused an oversize grin to spread across his face, but all he did was simply nod.

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qqueenofhades · 4 years ago

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Hi. I’m curious. What did you mean by “women who read fiction might get Bad Ideas!!!” has just reached its latest and stupidest form via tumblr purity culture.? I haven’t seen any of this but I’m new to tumblr.

Oh man. You really want to get me into trouble on, like, my first day back, don’t you?

Pretty much all of this has been explained elsewhere by people much smarter than me, so this isn’t necessarily going to say anything new, but I’ll do my best to synthesize and summarize it. As ever, it comes with the caveat that it is my personal interpretation, and is not intended as the be-all, end-all. You’ll definitely run across it if you spend any time on Tumblr (or social media in general, including Twitter, and any other fandom-related spaces). This will get long.

In short: in the nineteenth century, when Gothic/romantic literature became popular and women were increasingly able to read these kinds of novels for fun, there was an attendant moral panic over whether they, with their weak female brains, would be able to distinguish fiction from reality, and that they might start making immoral or inappropriate choices in their real life as a result. Obviously, there was a huge sexist and misogynistic component to this, and it would be nice to write it off entirely as just hysterical Victorian pearl-clutching, but that feeds into the “lol people in the past were all much stupider than we are today” kind of historical fallacy that I often and vigorously shut down. (Honestly, I’m not sure how anyone can ever write the “omg medieval people believed such weird things about medicine!” nonsense again after what we’ve gone through with COVID, but that is a whole other rant.) The thinking ran that women shouldn’t read novels for fear of corrupting their impressionable brains, or if they had to read novels at all, they should only be the Right Ones: i.e., those that came with a side of heavy-handed and explicit moralizing so that they wouldn’t be tempted to transgress. Of course, books trying to hammer their readers over the head with their Moral Point aren’t often much fun to read, and that’s not the point of fiction anyway. Or at least, it shouldn’t be.

Fast-forward to today, and the entire generation of young, otherwise well-meaning people who have come to believe that being a moral person involves only consuming the “right” kind of fictional content, and being outrageously mean to strangers on the internet who do not agree with that choice. There are a lot of factors contributing to this. First, the advent of social media and being subject to the judgment of people across the world at all times has made it imperative that you demonstrate the “right” opinions to fit in with your peer-group, and on fandom websites, that often falls into a twisted, hyper-critical, so-called “progressivism” that diligently knows all the social justice buzzwords, but has trouble applying them in nuance, context, and complicated real life. To some extent, this obviously is not a bad thing. People need to be critical of the media they engage with, to know what narratives the creator(s) are promoting, the tropes they are using, the conclusions that they are supporting, and to be able to recognize and push back against genuinely harmful content when it is produced – and this distinction is critical – by professional mainstream creators. Amateur, individual fan content is another kettle of fish. There is a difference between critiquing a professional creator (though social media has also made it incredibly easy to atrociously abuse them) and attacking your fellow fan and peer, who is on the exact same footing as you as a consumer of that content.

Obviously, again, this doesn’t mean that you can’t call out people who are engaging in actually toxic or abusive behavior, fans or otherwise. But certain segments of Tumblr culture have drained both those words (along with “gaslighting”) of almost all critical meaning, until they’re applied indiscriminately to “any fictional content that I don’t like, don’t agree with, or which doesn’t seem to model healthy behavior in real life” and “anyone who likes or engages with this content.” Somewhere along the line, a reactionary mindset has been formed in which the only fictional narratives or relationships are those which would be “acceptable” in real life, to which I say…. what? If I only wanted real life, I would watch the news and only read non-fiction. Once again, the underlying fear, even if it’s framed in different terms, is that the people (often women) enjoying this content can’t be trusted to tell the difference between fiction and reality, and if they like “problematic” fictional content, they will proceed to seek it out in their real life and personal relationships. And this is just… not true.

As I said above, critical media studies and thoughtful consumption of entertainment are both great things! There have been some great metas written on, say, the Marvel Cinematic Universe and how it is increasingly relying on villains who have outwardly admirable motives (see: the Flag Smashers in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier) who are then stigmatized by their anti-social, violent behavior and attacks on innocent people, which is bad even as the heroes also rely on violence to achieve their ends. This is a clever way to acknowledge social anxieties – to say that people who identify with the Flag Smashers are right, to an extent, but then the instant they cross the line into violence, they’re upsetting the status quo and need to be put down by the heroes. I watched TFATWS and obviously enjoyed it. I have gone on a Marvel re-watching binge recently as well. I like the MCU! I like the characters and the madcap sci-fi adventures! But I can also recognize it as a flawed piece of media that I don’t have to accept whole-cloth, and to be able to criticize some of the ancillary messages that come with it. It doesn’t have to be black and white.

When it comes to shipping, moreover, the toxic culture of “my ship is better than your ship because it’s Better in Real Life” ™ is both well-known and in my opinion, exhausting and pointless. As also noted, the whole point of fiction is that it allows us to create and experience realities that we don’t always want in real life. I certainly enjoy plenty of things in fiction that I would definitely not want in reality: apocalyptic space operas, violent adventures, and yes, garbage men. A large number of my ships over the years have been labeled “unhealthy” for one reason or another, presumably because they don’t adhere to the stereotype of the coffee-shop AU where there’s no tension and nobody ever makes mistakes or is allowed to have serious flaws. And I’m not even bagging on coffee-shop AUs! Some people want to remove characters from a violent situation and give them that fluff and release from the nonstop trauma that TV writers merrily inflict on them without ever thinking about the consequences. Fanfiction often focuses on the psychology and healing of characters who have been through too much, and since that’s something we can all relate to right now, it’s a very powerful exercise. As a transformative and interpretive tool, fanfic is pretty awesome.

The problem, again, comes when people think that fic/fandom can only be used in this way, and that going the other direction, and exploring darker or complicated or messy dynamics and relationships, is morally bad. As has been said before: shipping is not activism. You don’t get brownie points for only having “healthy” ships (and just my personal opinion as a queer person, these often tend to be heterosexual white ships engaging in notably heteronormative behavior) and only supporting behavior in fiction that you think is acceptable in real life. As we’ve said, there is a systematic problem in identifying what that is. Ironically, for people worried about Women Getting Ideas by confusing fiction and reality, they’re doing the same thing, and treating fiction like reality. Fiction is fiction. Nobody actually dies. Nobody actually gets hurt. These people are not real. We need to normalize the idea of characters as figments of a creator’s imagination, not actual people with their own agency. They exist as they are written, and by the choice of people whose motives can be scrutinized and questioned, but they themselves are not real. Nor do characters reflect the author’s personal views. Period.

This feeds into the fact that the internet, and fandom culture, is not intended as a “safe space” in the sense that no questionable or triggering content can ever be posted. Archive of Our Own, with its reams of scrupulous tagging and requests for you to explicitly click and confirm that you are of age to see M or E-rated content, is a constant target of the purity cultists for hosting fictional material that they see as “immoral.” But it repeatedly, unmistakably, directly asks you for your consent to see this material, and if you then act unfairly victimized, well… that’s on you. You agreed to look at this, and there are very few cases where you didn’t know what it entailed. Fandom involves adults creating contents for adults, and while teenagers and younger people can and do participate, they need to understand this fact, rather than expecting everything to be a PG Disney movie.

When I do write my “dark” ships with garbage men, moreover, they always involve a lot of the man being an idiot, being bluntly called out for an idiot, and learning healthier patterns of behavior, which is one of the fundamental patterns of romance novels. But they also involve an element of the woman realizing that societal standards are, in fact, bullshit, and she can go feral every so often, as a treat. But even if I wrote them another way, that would still be okay! There are plenty of ships and dynamics that I don’t care for and don’t express in my fic and fandom writing, but that doesn’t mean I seek out the people who do like them and reprimand them for it. I know plenty of people who use fiction, including dark fiction, in a cathartic way to process real-life trauma, and that’s exactly the role – one of them, at least – that fiction needs to be able to fulfill. It would be terribly boring and limited if we were only ever allowed to write about Real Life and nothing else. It needs to be complicated, dark, escapist, unreal, twisted, and whatever else. This means absolutely zilch about what the consumers of this fiction believe, act, or do in their real lives.

Once more, I do note the misogyny underlying this. Nobody, after all, seems to care what kind of books or fictional narratives men read, and there’s no reflection on whether this is teaching them unhealthy patterns of behavior, or whether it predicts how they’ll act in real life. (There was some of that with the “do video games cause mass shootings?”, but it was a straw man to distract from the actual issues of toxic masculinity and gun culture.) Certain kinds of fiction, especially historical fiction, romance novels, and fanfic, are intensely gendered and viewed as being “women’s fiction” and therefore hyper-criticized, while nobody’s asking if all the macho-man potboiler military-intrigue tough-guy stereotypical “men’s fiction” is teaching them bad things. So the panic about whether your average woman on the internet is reading dark fanfic with an Unhealthy Ship (zomgz) is, in my opinion, misguided at best, and actively destructive at worst.

#long post #anonymous #ask

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lipstickstainz · 4 years ago

Text

just a few days - s. r.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Summary: There’s no denying that Spencer and you hate each other. What happens, when you are forced to spend a few days together? Warnings: enemies to lovers, language, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), typical criminal minds stuff Word Count: 4.5k A/N: hello friends. this is my first one shot and I hope you like it. gif not mine.

„I didn’t think you could be any more of a shithead, but you just proved me wrong.“

Many people believe in love at first sight. The heart starts racing, the knees go weak and you feel dizzy. You want to get to know the other person at all costs. Which is total bullshit, of course. You can't fall in love with someone at first sight. Interest, yes, but that's not love.

With Spencer and you it was different. The first time you met, you were breathless. Your muscles tensed to the breaking point, the blood pulsed in your ears, and your stomach turned. Only, in your case, it definitely wasn't love.

„I saw a trash bag on the side of the road today. Reminded me of you“, you shot back and Spencer rolled his eyes.

Hate at first sight really did exist, and Spencer and you were the prime example.

There was always a stupid comment, a scathing sideways glance, or catty laughter. Neither of you took it personally - why would you? You weren't interested in each other's opinions - and it didn't interfere with your work, which is why Hotch didn't say anything about it. It annoyed him, but he had also noticed that the quality of your work was higher when you were at each other's throats than when you worked separately.

You couldn't even remember why you had been so hostile to each other from the beginning. It was mutual antipathy, but no one knew why. You didn't know each other from anywhere else, had never met anywhere. Actually, you were someone who gave people a chance first to get to know them reasonably, but with Spencer it only took one look before you were sure you definitely didn't like him. Was it his aura? His charisma? His constant need to be smarter than everyone else?

At first, the two of you had been holding back. You had been professional with each other, staying out of each other's way as much as possible and not exchanging more words than necessary. Everything had been fine until one day something slipped out of Spencer's mouth. The team had been sitting in the conference room discussing the latest case. You had said something about the murder weapon when Spencer had rolled his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" you had asked him, annoyed. Spencer sat up straight in his chair and grabbed the crime scene photo.

"I've never heard anything so stupid," he said, looking at you with amusement.

"Excuse me?"

"Stop it," Hotch intervened. "We don't have time for bitching. JJ, inform the department we're on our way. Wheels up in thirty."

From that moment on, there was no turning back. You tried to belittle each other, but Hotch had forbidden you to relate it to work. Teasing and mean statements were allowed, but you were not allowed to get in the way of your work. And the most important thing: no arguing in front of outsiders. The team was used to it, but if others got wind of it, it would undermine your authority. So you had to pull yourselves together at times. Which was no problem.

Once inside the police department, Hotch divided the team. "Y/L/N, Reid, you'll go to the crime scene and examine the house for any abnormalities that might indicate motive," he said, and you looked at each other with disgust in your eyes. Hotch cleared his throat and gave you a look that said, "Get your act together or I'll send you home."

On the way to the scene, the radio was playing and you hummed the tune contentedly. You almost forgot who you were in the car with if Spencer hadn't suddenly turned off the radio. You made an annoyed noise.

"I wanted to hear that."

"I know," Spencer grinned, glancing at you briefly before looking out the window again. "And that's why I turned it off."

Sometimes you could strangle him.

The house was pretty run down from the outside. Spencer and you looked at each other. "If I had to hide your body somewhere, it would be right here," you grinned, walking toward the front door.

"I won't give you the satisfaction of killing me," he said, his mouth twisting into a crooked smile. "My death should have meaning. I'm not going to let someone like you kill me over that."

The interior of the house was in complete contrast to the exterior. Every room was cleaned and tidy, there was not a speck of dust anywhere, and the way magazines, pictures, and other decorations had been laid down indicated -.

"OCD," Spencer noted. "Look, Y/N. The magazines all have the same number of pages, the picture frames on the windowsill are all the same distance apart, and -" , he opened a cabinet in the kitchen, "the handles on the cups all point in the same direction."

"So the person has damage like yours," you said, surveying the pictures in the hallway. Luckily there were only two of you, or you would have had to stifle the comment.

"Ha. Ha. I don't have OCD."

"You still have some damage. Forensics said traces of bleach were found throughout the house," you added to his insight, walking down the hall. "The unsub cleaned and left everything like this."

"And how would you know that?" asked Spencer, who had followed you. In the ceiling in the hallway was the hatch that led you to the attic.

"The pictures in the hallway are not of the victim. They're printed photos of people from the Internet. There is no connection." You climbed the ladder and what awaited you there did not surprise you. The attic was filled with junk. It seemed like everything had just been shoved in. But again, there was not a woolly mouse to be seen.

"Apparently, the unsub places a lot of importance on maintaining the appearance of orderly, clean living."

You nodded at him and pulled your phone out of your back pocket. "Garcia, please search for wealthy families where children have been hospitalized with broken bones, hematomas or other injuries," you said, and Spencer snatched the phone from your hand. Annoyed, you looked at him.

"Equate that to sports injuries again, please. Thank you," he asked her before hanging up and tossing you the phone.

"Sports injuries?" you asked him, and he nodded.

"No parents would take their child to the hospital with injuries like that without an explanation. Sports injury is a good way to disguise something like that," he explained and you left the loft. When you got back into the car, you looked at him.

"If you snatch that phone out of my hand again, you'll be the next one with a slit throat," you smiled sweetly at him.

Spencer laughed out loud. "You grow a few more inches first, then maybe you can get to my throat."

Back at the precinct, the team profiled him and shared it with detectives. The plan was to lure him out of hiding and hope he would say or do something so you could arrest him.

"Bailey is targeting young couples in their twenties and thirties who are still in the early stages of their lives. They all moved in together a few days before they died. They were all very messy, which showed not only in their apartment, but also in their style of dress," Rossi explained.

"That's why two of our team will go undercover to draw him out," Hotch continued, giving Spencer and you a meaningful look. You knew what that meant. And you weren't in the mood for that. "Agent Y/L/N and Doctor Reid will be moving into a house on the outskirts of town, in the exact area where the last victim was found. Since he likes to return to the scene of his crime, he'll take notice."

"And then what do we do?" the sheriff asked, writing diligently.

"He'll show up a few days later and then we can go get him," Emily brought the conversation to a close and the group broke up. Hotch motioned Spencer and you to come with him to an adjoining room.

"I blindsided you with the proposal, and for that I'm sorry," he said, looking from Spencer to you, "but I'm afraid we have no choice. Tomorrow morning you'll move into the house and then it's only a matter of time before he comes. Just a few days. And until then, please try not to kill each other."

Spencer and you had been sitting together all night, working out a plan. Not only did you have to pretend to be a happy couple in front of others, you had to pretend behind closed doors. And that certainly wasn't going to be easy.

"Spencer, I'm only going to ask you this once," you began. "Are you okay with me touching you? Otherwise, we'll have to figure something else out. You can't flinch when I reach for your hand or give you a kiss on the cheek, even if I don't want to do that myself."

"I can handle that," he grinned. "As long as you promise not to snuggle up to me in your sleep. Because then I'll have to vomit."

Hotch was pretty happy with your plan and wished you good luck. He didn't want to bug the house because you still needed privacy, but the whole team was on speed dial. Besides, the others would take turns watching you. You weren't afraid, but knowing the others were always there calmed you down a bit.

The next morning, Spencer and you drove to your house. It looked a lot like the last victim's house. One story and an attic, the front yard hadn't been tended in ages. Spencer parked the car in the driveway and got out first so he could open the door for you like a gentleman.

"Are you ready for our new life?" he smiled, pulling you into his arms before you headed toward the door. His perfume was so strong it clouded your mind.

"With you, I'm ready for anything," you returned, placing your lips on his cheek.

Living with Spencer was more pleasant than you had imagined. You spent most of your time together in silence, Spencer with a book and you with music or magazines. You didn't avoid each other either, but spent every second together. Spencer always helped you cook and you helped him do laundry. You even went shopping together. There were little spats in between, but otherwise you got along fine.

You also noticed some things about Spencer that had completely escaped your attention until now. For example, he always had several books lying next to him when he read one. Which made sense if he finished one of them within ten minutes. Also, he would always mouth off a little when he was talking about something that was bothering him. And when he was talking about something he liked, he spoke with an incredible passion that was contagious.

What surprised you the most was sleeping next to each other. Since you also had to pretend to be overjoyed at home, you had also planned to share a bed. It was the most sensible and the easiest. Spencer's presence even calmed you down when you woke up in the middle of the night because you had a bad dream, and his regular breathing in the evening helped you fall asleep.

On the fourth night, a nightmare jolted you from sleep. You didn't remember what exactly you had dreamed, but you knew that you wouldn't fall asleep again so quickly. As quietly as you could, you got out of bed, not wanting to wake Spencer, and went to the kitchen. You flipped on the light over the stove, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water. After a big gulp, you felt better, but still worried. Tired, you leaned against the counter and rubbed your hand over your face.

"Are you alright?" asked Spencer, entering the kitchen. He was wearing a loose T-shirt and boxers. Something you hadn't noticed before.

"I didn't mean to wake you, I'm sorry," you said honestly, putting the glass in the sink. Spencer just smiled, "I had a nightmare."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, standing next to you, you shook your head. "Okay." He was about to head back toward the bedroom, but stopped in the doorway. Spencer looked at you and you smiled weakly. He approached you again and reached for your hand. Carefully he pulled you to him and put his free hand on your lower back to press you closer to him. You laid your head against his chest and could hear his heartbeat. Then Spencer slowly rocked back and forth.

No one said a word as you danced with each other in the kitchen in the middle of the night. You enjoyed each other's presence and warmth. Spencer put a finger under your chin and made you look at him. There was no hate or dislike in his eyes. There was a twinkle in them that confused you greatly. Gently, he placed his lips on your forehead before pulling away.

"Let's go back to sleep," he smiled, pulling you by the hand back into the bedroom. In bed, he reached his arms out to you so you could lay your head on his chest. There it was again, his heartbeat. But this time it was faster, steady, but faster. Spencer reached for your hand again and intertwined your fingers. "Sleep well, Y/N," he was still whispering, but you were barely aware of it. You had never fallen asleep so quickly.

The next day, the two of you went for a walk in the evening. Spencer's hand in yours no longer felt strange, but very familiar. The whole relationship between you had changed fundamentally. There was no more bitching, no more evil glances, no more spiteful laughter. You wondered if it would stay that way when you left the house, or if you would go back to your old ways. Secretly, you hoped that you would remain friends when all this was over. Even though you had only been here a short time, you had actually grown fond of Spencer. You just hoped he felt the same way about you.

"Y/N," Spencer whispered when you reached your street.

"Huh?" You looked up at him and he smiled lovingly at you. You would never get enough of that look.

"Please look at me when I tell you this now. There's a man walking across the street, right at our level, with his hood pulled over his head," he continued to whisper and I tried not to let on. "He's been following us for two blocks. I think it's him."

I nodded. "We need to show him that we are to be his next victims," you stated. When you arrived at your house, Spencer pulled you even closer. You knew what was coming. You didn't resist, and not because it was part of your plan, but because you were waiting for it.

Spencer put his hands to your cheeks and leaned down to put his lips on yours. Your heart started racing, your knees went weak, and you felt dizzy. If Spencer hadn't been holding you, you would have slipped through his fingers. His lips were soft and warm and when you kissed him back, a grumble sounded from his chest. One of his hands moved to your butt, pressing your hips against his as he slid his tongue into your mouth. You felt hot and warm shivers ran down your spine. You tried not to think about the fact that you could feel his erection against your belly, but failed miserably.

With his other hand, Spencer reached for the key and opened the door without breaking away from you, then pushed you into the house where he could have pulled away from you, but he didn't. His kisses grew hungrier and greedier, his hands reaching under your butt so he could lift you up. Your legs knotted behind him. He carried you toward the bedroom and pressed you against the wall. You rubbed your hips against his and he moaned into your mouth.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, sliding a hand under your shirt. His fingers danced over your bare skin and his touch burned into your skin. You wished this moment would never end.

"Cameron Bailey, put the knife down and raise your hands," Derek called out. Spencer and you jumped apart, completely confused and gasping for air, and saw the team standing in your bedroom. Derek took Bailey into custody and led him away. How had you not noticed that he had come into the house?

"Are you all right?" asked Emily, but you could only nod. What would have happened if Bailey hadn't broken in? How far would Spencer and you have gone?

It wasn't long before the team was back on the plane. Spencer sat alone at one end of the plane and you at the other. You hadn't had time to talk about what had happened, because after Bailey was arrested, you had packed your things and gone to the airport with the others. But what did you want to talk about? About the kiss? About the touch? About your friendship, if you could call it that? Never in your life had you been so uncertain as at that moment.

Spencer probably didn't want anything more to do with you, and you tried to tell yourself that you were okay with that. You tried to adjust to things going back to the way they were. It scared you that deep down you cared. You had hated Spencer for years and just a few days with him had completely turned your feelings upside down. And that bothered you the most.

"I could use a beer right now," Derek said when you arrived at Quantico. "Anyone coming?"

"I'm going home," you replied, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "My shower is waiting for me and my bed is calling for me too."

"Same here," Spencer gave and together you walked to the elevator while the others talked about where to go to celebrate. The silence between Spencer and you was unbearable, both outside the elevator and inside. You wanted to say something, but couldn't manage more than a guarded smile, which he kindly returned. At least no more bitching.

"Good night, Y/N," he said goodbye and left without turning around once more. You took a deep breath and headed home as well.

Once home, you dropped your bag on the floor and tried to wash off Spencer's touch in the shower. You brushed your teeth to scrub his taste from your tongue, but nothing could chase away the thoughts that haunted your mind. You put on fresh panties and an oversized shirt, which ended just below your butt. You were on your way to the couch when there was a knock on your door.

Without hesitation you opened the door and your heart stopped. Spencer stood in front of you, hands buried in his pockets and a small smile on his lips. "Hi."

"Hey," you said softly, and you didn't realize until then that you were standing in front of him half-naked. Embarrassed, you pulled the hem of your shirt down further. He glanced briefly at your hands and blushed before looking you in the eye again.

"I know this probably sounds stupid, but I don't know if I'll be able to sleep alone tonight. I've gotten used to sleeping next to you and after today, I don't think either of us should spend the night alone," he babbled, entering your apartment without prompting. You shut the door behind him. "Besides, there's something I wanted to do." Carefully he put his bag on the kitchen counter and came towards you with long steps.

It was not five seconds before he pressed his mouth on yours and a sigh came out of your mouth. His hands were everywhere and nowhere at the same time, so greedily they moved over your body, while yours got caught in his hair. When his fingers grazed your bare skin on your legs, you slumped against him.

"I didn't want to let you go home alone," he whispered between kisses, looking deep into your eyes. "I didn't want to sit so far away from you on the plane either, and when I got home, all I wanted was to be with you." His tongue dominated yours as his hands slid under your shirt. Your skin burned like fire where he touched you. "Tell me to stop, Y/N. Please tell me to stop and leave. Because if you don't do it now, I'll stay forever."

You went to kiss him, but he broke away from you and grabbed your chin with one hand, making you look at him. He was expecting a response. "Stay, Spencer. Stay forever and I'm yours."

That's all the confirmation he needed. His hands were on your hips again, but moved further down to briefly stroke your ass before leaning down and grabbing the back of your thighs. Without effort, he lifted you up and his lips assaulted your neck, and as he sucked on the soft spot where your jaw met your neck, all you could do was whimper his name.

Spencer carried you into your bedroom with ease, his mouth never leaving your heated skin. The warmth in your body grew with each kiss as he gently laid you on the bed. You pushed yourself to the head of the bed, allowing your head to rest on the soft pillow as Spencers hovered over you to kiss your neck.

His lips moved to your collarbone, his hands slid under your shirt and you arched up to meet him so he could easily pull it off. Hastily you reached for his shirt and undid the buttons to rip it from his torso. His weight was heavy on you and his hot skin almost burned you with every further touch. Without a word, you unbuttoned his pants and he kicked them off his long legs. For a brief moment you looked at each other. In that look were all the apologies you wanted to say, but that was no longer important. What was important was the man in front of you, the man you had fallen head over heels in love with in just a few days.

You put your hands on Spencer's back and felt the muscles dancing under your fingers. You took a quick glance at his black boxer briefs, which already seemed a little too tight for him.

"God, you're beautiful," he moaned as he glanced down your body. His hands were on your breasts and he rolled your left nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Again, you arched up to meet him.

"Spencer," you moaned, "no teasing. Please," you begged, closing your eyes to feel his touch more intensely. When you opened your eyes again, you could see a crooked grin on his face. He was enjoying your begging. Before you could say anything, he grabbed your panties and you could hear him ripping them. Cool air met your hot core and Spencer's boxers landed on the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You had to swallow. He was long and surprisingly thick and you wondered if he would fit. Spencer looked at you silently with raised eyebrows.

"I'm on the pill," you explained, grabbing his shaft with your hand and running your thumb over the tip to smear the pre-cum, making him moan with pleasure. You pumped him two times before Spencer grabbed your wrist.

"I won't last long if you keep this up, love," he rasped, guiding his pulsing erection to your wet entrance. You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him so close to you that there wasn't an inch between you. He looked at you one more time, searching for something in your face, but you just smiled at him, drunk with love. And then he glided home.

His cock was stretching you like no man before did and it almost hurt, but with the pain came the pleasure. Spencer rested his forehead on yours and his breath was hot on your skin. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You leaned into his gentle touch.

"Move, please, Spence," you purred, and that was all he needed. He withdrew almost completely from you before thrusting into you again. He quickly found a steady pace and his length stroked all the right places. The heat between your thighs spiraled in your belly and you dug your nails into Spencer's back.

"Spencer, fuck," you breathed and he grinned before pressing his lips to your throat and gently biting your collarbone. Before you knew it, he was sliding his hand between your bodies and rubbing furiously over your clit and it was all getting too much for you.

Your nails raked across his skin and certainly left a few marks on as you climaxed and your vision went black.You spasmed around his cock and felt it twitch inside you. Spencer moaned a mixture of swear words and your name as he coated your walls with his cum, his fingers digging into your hips and probably bruising them.

He placed his lips on yours one last time before carefully pulling out of you and disappearing into the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. "Careful, love," he says softly, running it along between your legs to wipe your mingled cum. When he touched your sensitive clit, you flinched involuntarily. He returned the washcloth to the bathroom before lying back down with you. He pulled you to him and kissed your forehead. "Can I tell you something?" he breathed, you looked up at him quite exhausted.

"Of course."

He smiled lovingly. "I've fallen head over heels in love with you in the last few days," he confessed and your heart stopped. "The moment you laid your head on my chest in bed. You turned my whole world upside down and I can't imagine spending a single day without you anymore."

"You don't have to," you replied, putting your hand to the back of his head so you could pull him down to you. Gently you placed your lips on his and you felt his cock twitch against your belly. That's how strong your effect on him was. "I love you, Spencer."

In one fluid motion, he rolled onto you and pressed his mouth onto yours. This kiss was like the one in the house, angry, hungry and greedy. His hand slid between your legs and his fingers gently circled your clit. Your legs twitched and he pushed further down so he was eye level with your cunt. Gently he slid two fingers inside you and you moaned loudly. "I love you, Y/N. Don’t you dare forget it, when I make you scream and cum around my tounge.“ He licked long stripe from your entrance to your clit and gently sucking on it. Your body shook under his tounge and touch, as he slipped to fingers into your dripping cunt again. „Are you ready for round two?"

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid one hot #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fanfiction #enemies to lovers #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #Emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #Jennifer jereau #dave rossi

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itsclydebitches · 3 years ago

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I keep seeing people calling Good Omens queer bating and a I can't help but ask why? I read the Aziraphale/Crowley relationship threw an Ace lens and they are clearly as close to married as they are probably going to get without stepping on holy ground.... and they love each other... why is it considered queer bating?

Personally, I think it's mostly young queer fans turning legitimate grievances on the wrong target. A case of getting so fed up with queerbaiting in media as a whole that they're instinctually lashing out at anything that seems to resembles it on the surface, without taking the time to consider whether this is, in fact, the thing they're mad at. Good Omens is a scapegoat, if you will. The equivalent of snapping at your partner after a long day. Your friend was an asshole, your boss was an asshole, the guy in traffic was an asshole, and then you come home to your partner who says something teasing and you take it as another asshole comment because you've just been surrounded by assholeness all day, to the point where your brain is primed to see an attack. Your partner wasn't actually an asshole, but by this point you're (understandably) too on guard to realize that. Unless someone sits you down and kindly reminds you of the difference between playful teasing and a legitimate insult - the nuance, if you will - your hackles are just gonna stay up and you'll leave the room, off to phone a different friend to tell them all about how your partner was definitely an asshole to you.

Only in this case, that "friend" is a fan on social media doing think pieces on the supposed queerbaiting of Good Omens, spreading that idea to a) people who aren't familiar with the show themselves and b) those who, like that original fan, have come to expect queerbaiting and thus aren't inclined to question the latest story with that mark leveled against it. Because on the surface Good Omens can look a lot like queerbaiting. Here are two queer coded characters who clearly love each other, but don't say "I love you," don't kiss, don't "prove" that love in a particular way. So Gaiman is just leading everyone on, right?

Well... no. This is where the nuance comes in, the thing that many fans aren't interested in grappling with (because, like it or not, media is not made up of black and white categories; queerbaited and not-queerbaited. Supernatural's finale is proof enough of that...) I won't delve into the most detailed explanation here, but suffice to say:

Gaiman has straight up said it's a love story. He's just not giving them concrete labels like "gay" or "bi" or "asexual," etc. because they are literally not human. Gaiman has subscribed to an inclusive viewpoint in an era where fans are desperate for unambiguous rep that homophobes cannot possibly deny. The freedom to prioritize any interpretation - yes, including a "just friends" interpretation - now, in 2021, feels like a cop-out. However, in this case it's an act of world building (they are an angel and a demon, not bound by human understanding of identity) meeting a genuine desire to make these characters relatable to the entire queer community, not just particular subsets. Gaiman has said they can be whatever we want because the gender, sexuality, and romantic attraction of an angel and a demon is totally up for debate! However, some fans have interpreted that as a dismissal of canonical queerness; the idea that fans can pretend they're whatever they want... but it's definitely not canon. It is though. Them being queer is 100% canon, it's just up to us to decide what kind of queer they are. This isn't Gaiman stringing audiences along, it's him opening the relationship up to all queer possibilities.

We know he's not stringing us along (queerbaiting) because up until just a few days ago season two didn't exist. Queerbaiting is a deliberate strategy to maintain an audience. A miniseries does not need to maintain its audience. You binge it in one go and you're done, no coming back next year required. The announcement for season two doesn't erase that context for season one. No one knew there would be more content and thus the idea that they would implement a strategy designed to keep viewers hooked due to the hope for a queer relationship (with no intent to follow through) is... silly.

In addition, this interpretive, queer relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale existed in the book thirty years ago. Many fans are not considering the difference between creating a totally new story in 2019 and faithfully adapting a story from 1990 in 2019. Good Omens as representation meant something very different back then and that absolutely impacts how we see its adaptation onto the small screen. To put this into perspective, Rowling made HUGE waves when she revealed that she "thought of" Dumbledore as gay in an interview... in 2007. Compare that to the intense coding 17 years before. Gaiman was - and still is - pushing boundaries.

Which includes being an established ally, particularly in his comics. Queerbaiting isn't just the act of a single work, but the way an author approaches their work. Gaiman does not (to my knowledge) have that mark against him and even if he did, he's done enough other work to offset that.

Finally, we've got other, practical issues like: how do you represent asexuality on the screen? How do you show an absence of something? Yeah, one or both of them could claim that label in the show, outright saying, "I'm asexual," but again, Gaimain isn't looking to box his mythological figures into a single identity. So if we want that rep... we have to grapple with the fact that this is one option for what it looks like.

Even if he did want to narrow the representation down to just a few identities for the show, should Gaiman really be making those major changes when he's only one half of the author team? Pratchett has, sadly, passed on and thus obviously has no say in whether his characters undergo such revisions. Even if fans hate every other argument, they should understand that, out of respect, Good Omens is going to largely remain the same story it was 30 years ago.

And those 6,000 years are just the beginning! Again, this was meant to be a miniseries of a single novel, a novel that, crucially, covered only Crowley and Aziraphale's triumph in being able to love one another freely. That's a part of their personal journey. Yeah, they've been together in one sense for 6,000 years, but that was always with hell and heaven on their backs, to say nothing of the slow-burn approach towards acknowledging that love, for Aziraphale in particular. We end the story at the start of their new relationship, one that is more free and open than it ever was before. They can be anything to one another now! The fact that we don't see that isn't a deliberate attempt on the author's part to deny us that representation, but only a result of the story ending.

So yeah, there's a lot to consider and, frankly, I don't think those fans are considering it. Which on a purely emotional level I can understand. I'm pissed about queerbaiting too and the knee-jerk desire to reject anything that doesn't meet a specific standard is understandable. But understandable doesn't mean we don't have to work against that instinct because doing otherwise is harmful in the long run. We need to consider when stories were published and what representation meant back then. We need to consider how we adapt those stories for a modern audience. We need to acknowledge that if we want the inclusivity that "queer" provides us, that includes getting characters whose identity is not strictly defined by the author as well as characters with overtly canonical labels. We need both. We likewise need to be careful about when having higher standards ends up hurting the wrong authors - who are our imperfect allies vs. those straight up unwilling to embrace our community at all? And most importantly, we have to think about how we're using the terms we've developed to discuss these issues. Queerbaiting means something specific and applying it to Good Omens not only does Good Omens a disservice, but it undermines the intended meaning of "queerbaiting," making it harder to use correctly in the future. Good Omens is not queerbaiting and trying to claim it is only hurts the community those fans are speaking up for.

#good omens #mymetas #queer

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imagineyourworld · 3 years ago

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Paper Rings

Howzer x Genderneutral!Reader

Summary: Will you marry Howzer even though he can’t offer you the shiny things you’re used to? (Inspired by the Taylor Swift song of the same title)

Warnings: Like one mention of war and allusion of poverty, otherwise just tooth rotting fluff

Check out my other work here

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What was he thinking? Your parents were a Duchess and Duke on your home planet, they were friends with the Syndullas, you grew up in a mansion and here Howzer was, wanting to marry you. Not only did he not have much property, most people considered him property, He couldn’t offer you what you were used to, what you deserved. But no matter how often he told himself that he shouldn’t ask you to marry him, he just had to. He couldn’t take the thought of dying without ever having told you just how much you mean to him, how much he wants to spend the rest of his life, however long, with you. But today, he finally decided, was the day. The war was over, for the first time since Howzer could remember there was something resembling peace, and you’d be arriving later that day. Just a few days ago you had commed him, telling him that you had asked your parents to let you finish your university education on Ryloth and they agreed. So you will spend the next two years right there next to him, And afterwards you could look for a job on Ryloth, or maybe, now that the war was over, Howzer could find a way to escape the army and the two of you could settle on your home planet or any corner of the galaxy you wanted. Provided you said yes. Howzer was on duty most of the day, which is why he couldn’t greet you the second you set foot on Ryloth. But as soon as his shift ended he hurried to the Syndullas’ house, in the garden of which the two of you had been secretly meeting for the past two years. Or maybe not so secretly, he thought as he saw Hera waving at him from the window of her bedroom. “Great”, Howzer muttered. He liked Hera, loved her like a little sister even, but he really didn’t want anyone watching this proposal. No one should know, in case you said no, an answer for which Howzer had to be prepared for. That’s the reason he had decided against asking for Eleni’s help in choosing a ring. Instead he had gone with a small silver band, engraved with the initials for both your and his first names. It was classic and simple. And cheap, the nagging voice in his head insisted. Of course there had been many more beautiful rings, but the truth was that he couldn’t afford any of them, even the engraving had almost blown his budget. He finally reached the bush behind which he knew you were hiding. The second he stepped around it and into your eyesight you had your arms wrapped around Howzer. “I’m so glad to see you. I missed you”, you greeted him. Howzer hugged you back for a few seconds before letting go to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “I missed you more”, he whispered, his forehead leaning against yours. You shook your head, a smile on your lips. “That’s impossible.” With a matching smile, though maybe just the slightest bit more nervous, Howzer grabbed your hand and lead you over to a thick log on the ground. As soon as the two of you sat down you rested your head on his shoulder. It wasn’t the most comfortable, due to his armour, but being uncomfortable with Howzer was million times better than being comfortable alone. Howzer tried his best not to look you in the eyes, which was a lot easier with your current position, because he knew the second you really looked at him you’d be able to tell that he was nervous about something. And he wanted to stall for just a few more moments, just in case the question he was about to ask would ruin everything. “So”, he started. “How was your day?” He didn’t need to ask twice. You began telling him all about the beautiful room the Syndullas had set you up in until you could find an apartment of your own. The university campus you had seen for the first time today and the classes you would take this semester. “I can’t believe I’m finally going back to university after I had to leave when this stupid war started. Although, without this stupid war we never would have met, so I suppose that’s one positive thing about this whole kriffing mess.” It’s now or never, Howzer thought. “Speaking of us...”, he said. He nudged your head with his shoulder to make you lift it before taking both your your hands into his and looking you deep in the eyes. “I really don’t know how to say this. I’ve tried to practice, but everything sounded wrong, so I suppose I’ll just wing it.” A horrified expression made its way to your face and if Howzer’s hands hadn’t been sweating so much he would have noticed moisture gathering in your own palms. “Howzer, my darling, are you breaking up with me?”, you asked, voice shaking and tears threatening to spill. You couldn’t believe it. Just a few days ago he had seemed so happy to have you on Ryloth with him, he had told you he loved you, and now this? Before you could do or say anything else Howzer began shaking his head frantically. “No! Stars, no! Cyare, just listen to me.” You nodded, although still a bit shaky. “I’m so happy to have you here with me for the next two years, but that made me realize, or rather it’s one of the things that made me realize, that I want to have you right next to me for the rest of my life. I don’t know how long my life will be, even now that the war is over, I don’t know what the empire will do with us clones, but if you’ll let me, I will do everything in my power to never leave your side. I know I can’t offer you much, I don’t have a mansion like the one you grew up in, or even a house to call me own, I can’t give you jewelry or fine clothes or the best food, but everything I have, everything I am, I can give to you. I offer you my heart and my soul and I promise to do whatever I can to make you happy for as long as you want me to.” After his last words he let go of one of your hands and knelt down in front of you on the ground. In the same swift motion he pulled a simple black box out of his holster where his blaster should be. “(Y/N), cyar’ika, mesh’la, my beloved, my beautiful, my darling, my sun and stars, will you marry me?” The tears that had been in your eyes earlier were now floating. Never had anyone said something like that to you, offered you so much and asked a question you never knew you wanted to hear. But Howzer, in his worried state, misinterpreted your tears. He sat the box down on the ground and put a hand on your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have known you wouldn’t want to marry a man who cannot offer you the riches you’re used to.” Tears were now making their way down his cheeks as well. You shook your head, slowly at first, then violently. How could he think that that’s why you’re crying? “Howzer, I love you. I love you whether you’re the richest man in the galaxy or the poorest, it doesn’t matter. I may like shiny things, but I’d marry you no matter what, even if you proposed with a paper ring.” Within seconds his expression went from shock to relief to pure happiness and love. He lifted the box from the ground again and opened it, showing you the ring inside. “It may not be paper, but I doubt this is worth much more.” Laughter bubbled past your lips. Without thinking you leaned down and pressed a kiss to Howzer’s forehead, another to his cheeks, his eyelids and his nose, before your lips finally connected in a loving kiss. “I still need an answer, mesh’la”, Howzer mumbled against your lips after you had separated to catch your breath. You wouldn’t have thought it possible to smile even wider, but somehow you did. “Yes. My answer is yes, Howzer. I will marry you.” With a smile matching yours, and after another quick kiss, he gently slipped the ring on your finger. And even though it was probably the cheapest thing you owned, it was also the most valuable and you loved it almost as much as the man who had given it to you.

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I know my usual day to post is Friday, but I was listening to Paper Rings and thinking of the latest Bad Batch episode and this fic just came to me and I couldn’t wait to write and share it.

#howzer x reader #howzer x you #captain howzer #howzer #captain howzer x reader #captain howzer x you #captain howzer imagine #howzer imagine #the bad batch #tbb #the bad batch imagine #tbb imagine

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softprincesso · 4 years ago

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✨HOW TO BECOME A WEALTHY MIDDLE-AGED MAN✨

PT.2: Overview to understanding different saving/retirement methods, investments, and forms of income

2.1 Savings and Retirement

Welcome lovelies to (what I hope will be) a helpful series on gaining wealth and becoming financially literate and independent!

*disclaimer: while this advice can generally apply to many it will not apply to all. Everyone is in a different situation and should do their own research before they take what ANYONE says as fact or law. This is also coming from the perspective of a young, biracial, first generation female business student following a hypergamous lifestyle and who does sw so some advice may be specific to my like-minded ladies, but for the most part I just love money and want to help others find joy in their wallets as well. I am also operating in the US so things regarding accounts, stocks, and certain laws will vary by your country. Also, this is just a fun thing I wanted to do because talking about leveling up and learning and growing and money are my favorite past times. None of these pictures are mine, however I am using some links which may compensate me in some way, but I only used links which were mutually beneficial and would help you gain something as well, they are still just actual sources I use for myself.

✨THINGS TO KEEP IN MIND✨

Financial independence is different than financial confidence.

Financial Independence: “The most common sense of the term is that someone has enough wealth to live as they wish for the rest of their life without having to work.” -Investopedia https://www.investopedia.com/financial-edge/0611/declare-your-own-financial-independence-day.aspx

Financial Confidence: “We define financial confidence as having three aspects,” says Miler. “The first is awareness of how money can be a tool for helping you reach your goals and dreams. The second is financial literacy and understanding economic factors. The third is trust and knowing where to turn for financial advice.” -Forbes https://www.forbes.com/sites/shelleyzalis/2018/06/16/women-money-8-steps-for-growing-your-financial-confidence/?sh=2175b65e2468

While the ultimate goal is financial independence, financial confidence should be the main focus. I’ll give an example why. Imagine there are two people: Rhonda and Jill. Both of them like nice things, love to shop, and participate in the occasional splurge. Rhonda works a regular 9-5 and has a decent salary. She doesn’t have much financial knowledge (translation: financial confidence), but she has a savings account at her local bank and puts a couple hundred into retirement each year and she thinks that's enough. Suddenly, Rhonda wins the lottery. Overnight she has become a millionaire, so she quits her job, moves to LA, and goes on to live life to the fullest. She would now be considered financially independent. However, Rhonda has no idea how to manage all that money. She puts a small amount into that bank savings account and takes the rest to do what she will. One day she tries her luck at a casino, in less than five hours she has lost all of her money and has to start back at square one with no job, only a few thousand to get her through, and no-good way to explain to employers that she just wasted the last 5 years spending money on handbags she now has to sell at a depreciated value. (BTW you would not last not working with only a million dollars in LA for that long)

Now, let’s look at Jill. Jill is an independent contractor and has a relatively steady income. She knows very little about finances, but she actively learns how to manage what she has and keeps up to date on the latest money news. The day that Rhonda won the lottery was just another Thursday for Jill, the only unique point for her was that she opened a savings accounts with a high APY (we’ll say 1%) and put in $5000.00. A little later she also opened a Roth IRA and puts in the maximum yearly allowance of $6000.00. Along the way she opened a brokerage account of her own and started trading in the stock market along with investing in real estate which has given her some extra income to play with each year. Unfortunately, another housing crash occurs, and all of the money Jill invested into real estate is gone. However, since Jill learned the skills behind her choices early on, she is knowledgeable and understands the ups and downs of the market and how to invest her money in other places in the meantime. And, that High yield savings account accrued around $50 more without her doing anything and she has that to fall back on, or worst case she can take out part of her principal Roth IRA contribution. 10 years from now Jill should start to see a steady increase in her Roth IRA that by retirement will be a little over 1 million and she should be comfortable and invested enough into stocks that she gains around $200-1000 extra each month.

I think you understand why you want to be Jill.

✨HAVING ADEQUATE SAVINGS = BEING YOUR OWN LIFEGUARD✨

As discussed in Pt.1 the first goal you should achieve is securing an emergency fund that could sustain you for a couple of months if things were to ever hit the fan, and starting a retirement fund should be in your top 5 goals to complete. The saying, “the rich get richer” is popular for a reason. Wealthy people know how to make their money work for them instead of them having to work for money. An easy way anyone can do the same is by opening the right accounts for your savings and retirement.

Savings:

All of your savings should be in a high yield saving account or split between different high yield accounts. This is an account which will reward you some interest every period for having money in your account with them. This is incredibly easy to do. You can either research/ask your bank about their high yield accounts or do some googling to find some other bank. Then transfer your money and there you go! When looking at banks understand that the highest Annual Percent Yields (APY), or the interest they will reward you, are going to be from online banks because they have less operational costs than a brick and mortar, but they will also come with their own disadvantages, like less ATMs to access or the inability to use when outside of your country so make sure to look into that. IMPORTANT: Make sure that whatever bank you choose is FDIC-insured so if the bank were to ever collapse or lose your money you have insurance up to $250,000.This won't generate a lot of extra cash, but an extra $20 every year is better than $0.

Retirement:

These accounts usually go by your current situation and what you see for your future.

401K: Probably the most known (I believe it’s only in the States but there might be something close to it in other countries) and that’s just because this is what employers usually offer if they offer anything. It is a retirement fund that your employer will set up and you can predefine how much of your paycheck you want to automatically go into it every time. Sometimes, the employers will also have a match program, and if they do you better max out the money they will contribute because that is FREE money! Most advice that I have seen has said to really only focus on this fund if your employer has that match program, otherwise I would focus on one of the accounts below. https://www.investopedia.com/articles/retirement/08/401k-info.asp

IRA: An IRA stands for Individual Retirement Account. There are three kinds…

Traditional: This IRA lets you put in pre-tax money and lets it grow tax-free until you make a withdrawal. Once you make the withdrawal that money is taxed at the current rate of your income at the time. Your contributions are tax deductible so you can write them off of your taxable income of that year. There are limits to how much you can contribute depending on your income, status, and whether you have another retirement fund as well.

Roth: With this IRA your contributions are taxed, but when you withdrawal money later on it is tax free. For those of you in a lower tax bracket than you believe you will be in the future, this IRA makes the most sense as you will pay less taxes now than you will when you are 59 ½ (The official age of retirement in the States). There are limits to how much you can contribute depending on your income, status, and whether you have another retirement fund as well.

SEP: Simplified Employee Pension. This is also an employer-based plan and may also work better for my self-employed gals out there. I don’t really know a lot on this one so I’ll just leave a link you can look into if it interests you: https://www.investopedia.com/ask/answers/102714/how-does-simplified-employee-pension-sep-ira-work.asp

You can have both a traditional and Roth IRA as long as you are eligible for both. Anyone with earned income (with a job or can prove a steady income) can contribute to a Traditional IRA, however with a Roth IRA, as a single you can earn up to $139,000 and contribute. Personally, if you are just getting started with all of this just set up one IRA and as you learn more you can take steps to get another or switch accounts.

https://www.investopedia.com/retirement/roth-vs-traditional-ira-which-is-right-for-you/

There are a plethora of other accounts, but they are more specialized and the top four should get you started on the right path to saving for retirement. I’m guessing that the majority of the audience reading these are women between the ages of 20-30. Trust me when I say that I love to spend money as much as the next girl, but I also would like to be completely comfortable should anything happen in my older years that screws up my marriage or job, and no one is going to secure that for you.

Also, I’m sorry this is so US-based, but once again it is all I know. I believe IRAs are more widespread than a 401K, but all that takes to find out is a Google search on your part.

Either way, make sure you have a plan going into 2021 for your savings and retirement because this economic whirlwind is far from over and there is always a chance for another recession, depression, or disaster. (Wow O, way to keep the mood light)

This was getting way too long with the investments added so look out for Pt.2.2 on the overview for investments (where the actual fun begins and I can stop being such a stick in the mud)…

VOCAB TO KNOW/RESEARCH:

Financial independence

Financial Confidence

APY

Roth IRA

brokerage account

High yield savings account

principal

401K

Traditional IRA

Once again… if in these posts I ever give bad advice, F- something up, or am just generally ignorant PLEASE call me out! Remember that just like you I am a young woman figuring everything out and while I am confident when talking about money, I am by no means a genius (only in spurts) so any chance to learn I appreciate. I hope you all learned something new today and as always…

With Love,

#how to become a wealthy middle aged man #wealth #money #money management #wealth management #finances #hypergamy #affluence #heauxlife #heaux advice #heaux tips #spoiled girlfriend #spoiled gf #spoiled heaux #black woman in luxury #luxury #sugar tips #oadvice #softprincesso

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gildedmuse · 3 years ago

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Hey, everyone.

So recently I've (predictably) very not well. Actually, whenever I don't post for long periods, just assume my body is trying to kill me. But I've gotten messages from three people asking if I. Okay, which is super sweet. I am actually trying to work on the next All Hearts, a really long ZoLaw post and two request fics, but mixing chronic kidney pain and capitalist society's mandate to work 40+ hours is not recommended.

But to prove I'm okay and still me, here is some Shanks antics with him being a total slut while Mihawk and Beckman just roll their eyes and go along with it. [Shout out to @jhaernyl who not only listens to me ramble about this stuff, but actively encourages it]. I also have many thoughts on the latest episodes and so many screenshots it's embarrassing. Hopefully, when I'm in less pain, I'll get around to actually posting those. Otherwise I just look like an insane person who literally takes by the second frame shots every time Zoro is on screen.

.... What is that? I look like that anyway? Fair.

Shanks Is A Bad Influence

It feels like Buggy and Shanks split up after Roger's death (the crew was told to, and they are the only ones who went to his execution) and I find it impossible to think Shanks didn't immediately set out and find a crew; like, pirating is the only thing this kid knows in life. This means two things:

He set out from East Blue. Also, he seemed at ease and familiar with the East so it's possible he spent like a year there getting everything together. Maybe he even played around in the other blues for a while before heading back to the Grand Line. I say this because his crew is from all over so either he found and recruited them in the Grand Line or visited various blues. Either way, I'm gonna say it took him about two years before getting a 'proper' start. In that case, he would have started out properly at the age of 17 and we know One Piece likes it's parallels.

That still puts Shanks at 17 to Benn Beckmen's 28. How the fuck did Shanks manage that? I'd call it grave robbing, but let's face it, the little tyke probably got up to some actual robbing of graves as well.

My point being everytime Shanks teases Mihawk about keeping this 19 year old kid on his personal island, mostly shirtless, Benn Beckmen just lifts an eyebrow.

Excuse me, captain, who had prefected the 'opps still don't have my sea legs' trip-and-fall into their first mates lap by the age of 17?

Shanks: Beckmen, you caught me! *Shamelessly nuzzles up* Thank goodness! I could be a devil's fruit user after all and - Ahh!

Benn: *Drops Shanks straight over the side of the ship into the water*

Shanks: *Sputtering* What what that!?

Benn: Checking to see if you had eaten a devil's fruit on us, Capatin.

Benn: You didn't.

Smart ass. But he can't resist Shanks forever. Shanks will wear him down eventually.

Next time Mihawk tracks him down for another match - because you know he gets bored way quicker than he'll ever admit and Shanks is at least amusing a challenge - Shanks makes a big deal out of how Mihawk follows him around, "accidentally" revealing they slept together, sighing about how it's so hard to resist him.

Benn Beckmen is just leaning against the side of the ship, sipping his booze.

Shanks: -and I can't stay for hours like last time!!

Mihawk: Are you quite done?

Shanks: *whispering* Does Benn look jealous?

Mihawk: He looks bored. Much like I am. Is this some strange attempt to get out of my challenge, Akagami?

Shanks: What? No, come on I told you I was game. But, hey, could you do me a favor? Maybe like try and kiss me or something? Like take a swing like your going to hit me but then stop shot and grab me by the waist instead.

Mihawk: .... Trickery is beneath you. Besides, you're absolute rubbish at it.

Shanks: Oh, come on, I would totally help you get laid if you asked!

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* I want a proper match afterwards.

Mihawk: *In a forced, monotone voice* After this I will take you to my lair and have my way with you, Akagami.

Mihawk: ... My lair? Really?

Shanks: *Holding up cue card with quickly scribbled line* What? That is how you talk.

Mihawk: I can't believe I wasted precious hours of light tracking you to this atrociously rural port.

Shanks: See? Now, read the next one.

Benn: Captain? If this is going to take all night, I am going to go join the rest of the men in the tavern.

Shanks: Huh? Wait! Benn! What if Miha really stabs me this time!?

Benn: *Salutes Shanks with his bottle* Sounds like that is his plan captain. Have a good 'challenge'.

Shanks: What? No... *Reaching out hand, like he might die if Benn leaves, looking completely devastated* Not even a little jealous...

Mihawk: You couldn't have thought that pantomime would actually work.

Shanks: Benny, don't leave me.... *Turns to Mihawk, immediately brightening* Oh, well, there's always tomorrow. Hey, Miha, guess whose free all night and horny as a pirate in the calm belt?

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* Very well.

Mihawk might as well get something for the trip he made. Although, he's reconsidering if the sex was actually worth the trouble after he ends up listening to Shanks worry half the night that Benn is shacking up with someone else (after a couple hours of rough and raw fucking, admittedly).

Is it the hat? He likes his captain's hat. Miha, you think his captain's hat is sexy, don't you?

Mihawk: It's utterly ridiculous.

Shanks: ....

Shanks: *Smile* Ahh, Miha, I knew you liked the hat!

Shanks: What do you old Northerns find sexy?

Mihawk: I am only four years older than you.

Mihawk: And silence.

Trying to convince Mihawk to go spy on Beckman for him. Shanks doesn't actually care if he does sleep with someone else, it's more that Beckman didn't immediately turn angry and jealous like Buggy would have that has him paranoid.

Mihawk is going to fuck this annoying red head again just to shut him up.

Mihawk: Maybe he doesn't like red haired boys who don't know when to be quiet?

The next morning Shanks is pacing among his poor crew that's gotten stuck listening to Shanks obsess about Beckman again. IS IT REALLY THE HAIR!?

It's not even a matter of Shanks's age (or obvious immaturity). I mean, Beckman got on board and stayed, didn't he? Beckman just enjoys watching Shanks try so hard to get his attention. Like Benn's attention isn't constantly on Shanks. He had to when his captain is always one step away from disaster.

He only left him with Mihawk because it was clear Dracule is not a real danger to Beckman's captain.

Except maybe insulting him to death. But Beckman is pretty sure Shanks can handle it. He's met Buggy. He's suspects Shanks LIKES it if anything.

It gets to the point where when they dock somewhere and see Mihawk waiting, or come back to the ship and spot his familiar silhouette, most of the crew goes off somewhere for another drink (sometimes the newer kids will stay to watch such an awesome fight, everyone else is like... Look, you'll have plenty of opportunities later. This is not a one off.)

Benn just takes a look around, nods to Mihawk (a silent signal for, "he's all yours, do with him as you please, if anything happens to him I will track you down and make sure your last few hours on this blue world are as painful as humanly possible") and heads off.

Oh, it's just the Hawk boy.

That's fine then.

Benn use to be a sailor on a trade ship between the North, East, West and Grand Line. He's seen it all.

They called him The Gun Slinger BEFORE he joined Shanks's crew and became a pirate.

So this young, broke ass kid from the streets of some near artic northern island trying to pass himself off as a Lower North rich type has a thing for his captain? Not really enough to keep Beckman up at night, no matter how good at swords he's supposed to be

Besides, he's pretty sure for the kid to keep tracking down Shanks, he must be bored out of his skull. He's not going to do anything to endanger their captain.

Not if Shanks is the only thing he can find to keep him entertained.

One day, Mihawk is going to be waiting on the dock when a bunch of Red Haired pirates are stumbling home, laughing and chattering amongst themselves (Shanks's crew always seems to be in a good mood). One of them will catch sight if Mihawk and walk by with a smile, patting him on the shoulder.

The captain's occupied. Seems likely he'll be 'occupied' for a good while, too.

Mihawk won't smile, but he will think "So you finally warmed him up to you, Akagami?" and snort lightly.

Poor Benn, though. Mihawk could never imagine being with someone so much younger than him. Shanks is only four years his junior and already it strains Mihawk to put up with his occasional moments of "youthful whimsy" (aka being an annoying, immature child)

"A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair"

Mihawk just putting that on his Not To Do List.

That lasted until Roronoa.

(Mihawk just looking at Zoro knowing this is bad news.)

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

*Cross out, scribbles*

*Hands back to Benn*

Do Not Do:

- A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair a silly hat, who is overly dramatic and in any way, shape or form related to Gol D Rogers.

Ace: Hey what's up?

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

Go ahead, Benn, laugh it up. Mihawk is aware he has a type. Young, pretty, and utterly insane.

After that night where Shanks was otherwise 'occupied', it's over six months before Mihawk sees his friend his rival again. He is, as expected, far too smug and proud looking.

Shanks: Oh, Miha, so sorry you came all this way, I'm-

Benn: Well, I'm off, captain.

Shanks: What!? But we, you, I... Benn, hessoeexyarentyouworriedforyourcaptain?

Benn: *patting Mihawk on the shoulder* Have fun with him. Don't forget to return him by noon tomorrow, we have a schedule. Oh, but if you can babysit him for at least four hours? That would be great.

Shanks: BABYSIT!?

Mihawk: I suppose I can be troubled to do so.

Shanks: TROUBLED!?

Benn: Thanks, Hawkeyes. I owe you.

Shanks: *Fake tears clinging to his lashes* You two are so mean!

No, don't feel bad for him. Shanks is just trying to guilt the two of them into bed at the same time, and they both know it.

Thanks no thanks, they're not into that. But Shanks can be pretty cute when he's trying so hard (Benn) and at least he's not as boring as everything else in this world (Mihawk) so they allow him to keep up the act

Shanks: *looking at Zoro's wanted poster over Mihawk's shoulder* But I feel like you'd gladly go to bed with him and his captain if he asked. That doesn't seem fair to me. You'd never go that far with me and Benn.

Mihawk: *Eyes Benn*

Mihawk: *DEAD. ONLY.*

Mihawk: I have my reasons.

They can and do agree on plenty of things, including reciprocally not being that attracted to each other.

Shanks: Sounds fake to me

Shanks: But guys!

Shanks: This isn't about you

He's gonna need you guys to drop the egos and focus on what HE wants. I.E., being in the middle of two sexy Northern men.

Honestly, so mean to poor Shanks!

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illumilu · 4 years ago

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“there’s only one bed” - hisoka morow x reader

a/n: a very stereotypical cliche for fanfics, but, yk what? i roll with cringe. so here, have my drabbling of what would happen if you were to spend an unwanted night in the same hotel bed as the adultrio. i feel like i may have made this a bit too long, but who cares?? i have time, you have time and an incandescent loneliness to fill, so let’s get into it!

summary: you arrive at the hotel with hisoka, but to your horror (wink wink), there’s only one bed. this is part one of a three-part series, with the adultrio. illumi and chrollo will be coming soon!

warnings: no particular trigger warnings, lowercase intended, a lot of fluff! and cuddling! i’m afraid there’s no nsfw here... keep in mind it’s hisoka - i kept it as pg as possible... may be ooc i’m sorry :)

hisoka morow:

- you arrived at your hotel room, tired from the trip there, not quite sure what to expect. you stared at the single bed placed in the middle of the room, aghast. there must have been some kind of mistake. except there wasn’t. the room had been booked out of simplicity, with no specification on the number of beds, or anything else for that matter.

- and, of course, the man you had booked this room with was none other than hisoka morow.

- otherwise known as the most flirtatious man on earth.

- a little bit of backstory; as your strictly professional colleague, hisoka was always taunting you with his charming little phrases, treating you like his little toy whom he could mess around with.

- “oh, y/n! whatever will we do~?”

- you sighed in frustration. out of all the people you could have been stuck with on this trip, it had to be hisoka.

- hisoka sighed and pouted - not from worry or anguish - but, rather, to mock you. you shot him a dirty look.

- “my my, y/n... why so serious? it’s not like i’ll do anything~”

- the playful lilt in his voice suggested otherwise.

- while hisoka went off to take a shower, you busied yourself with your latest objective; making sure he couldn’t pull anything. being inventive as you were, you gathered all the pillows from the bed (which, for some reason, there were many of), and built a wall separating the two sides of the mattress.

- you got changed promptly, and lay on the left side of the bed, waiting for hisoka to come back. however, his shower ran for longer than expected, and soon enough you felt yourself becoming drowsy.

- just as you were about to fall asleep, you heard hisoka’s voice come from the other side of the room.

- he chuckled. “y/n, what do we have here? your latest invention~?” he teased, ridiculing you.

- “i don’t trust you.” you stated plainly, staring up at the ceiling. you couldn’t see him from across the strangely high pillow wall you had made, but you could feel him smirking.

- “...and for good reason, y/n..”

- he extended his arm and lazily ejected his bungee gum to attach to the pillows, knocking them over in an instant. damn. you thought you had made a pretty good structure.

- you rolled over lethargically to see him standing there; what a sight.

- honestly, you didn’t mind hisoka. it was just... he often became... annoying. as much as he irritated you, you had to admit he was quite pretty. striking amber eyes, streaky plum hair that fell across his face, soft lips and an overall impressive facial structure. not to mention his unique fashion sense that somehow accentuated his toned body. porcelain skin, with his childish paint, which was so often called on by you - “hisoka, do you put that on every goddamn morning?” - he was a fine man.

- but, when that bastard opened his mouth.

- what a contrary tale.

- he waltzed closer to the bed and eventually sat down with his legs crossed, like a child in a classroom - except, he was staring down at you, who was scowling at him.

- “hisoka. don’t pull anything. i’m going to sleep.” you ordered, rolling to your other side so you were now facing away from him.

- “oh y/n... but how could i resist you~?” he joked, lying down on his back, unnecessarily close to you. you tensed up.

- “hisoka.” you warned. except you didn’t really sound like you were warning anyone. some undertones in your voice urged you to let things happen - for an uncertain millisecond, thoughts of letting hisoka do what he wanted plagued your mind.

- the millisecond passed soon enough.

- the jester turned to his side, so you were both facing the same direction and began whispering in your ear with a smile. why was his voice so... smooth? so succinct and mellow? that was not the type of person he was. so why did you want to melt into him? he giggled childishly.

- “so... y/n... you wouldn’t mind if i did-”

- “-this!”

- all of a sudden, hisoka was embracing you, cuddling you and shoving his idiotic face into the crook of your neck.

- “HISOKA, YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO GET OFF ME.”

- “oh, but if you wanted me off, couldn’t you simply give me a little kick~?”

- bright idea, madman. bright idea.

- you kicked him in the stomach, which invoked no painful reaction, but prompted him to roll to the other side of the bed, letting you escape from his clutches.

- “ah. y/n, that hurt~” he exhaled tiredly, feigning offence; it was more of a hum, which escaped his mouth like golden honey pouring from a dipper.

- “good. don’t come near me again.”

- “if that’s what you want, darling~”

- “don’t call me that, morow.” you glowered.

- “how scary... good night, y/n.”

- despite trying to hide it underneath his complacent ego, hisoka was beginning to worry. the man was attracted to essentially everyone, but something pulled him closer to you especially. you had a certain magnetism about you that he found increasingly attractive. why did he find teasing you so... enjoyable? why did he long for you to reciprocate? thoughts such as these had been swarming his subconscious since the beginning of the trip. he had pushed away such speculation, for it didn’t suit him.

- a man like him, a man who killed so depravedly, a man whom nothing was known about, an enigma of sorts; surely a man like that didn’t deserve to truly love.

- meanwhile, your brain was a motor engine; what had just happened, and why did you let it go on for so long? you had the reflexes of an expert nen user; so why did you let him stay there, nuzzling into you, before socking him in the gut?

- what a conundrum, for the both of you. looks like this cliche is reaching its peak, hm?

- you fell asleep soon enough; after all, the trip had been long and you were tired. not only physically, but also emotionally. hisoka wasn’t helping your case.

- hisoka himself often had trouble sleeping, which many people didn’t know. most nights, he just lay there solemnly, thinking of new card tricks or enticements for new victims.

- lately, however, he had been thinking of you.

- which he didn’t like at all.

- time passed as his mind whirred while he contemplated who you were, and why you made him so impressionable. suddenly, he heard something.

- he had his back turned to you but heard a shuffling of bedsheets. what time was it? 1am? 2am? he couldn’t tell, but he came to the conclusion that you moved around when you slept and left it at that.

- that was, until, he felt someone cling around his back and reach across his chest firmly, wrapping around his waist with their leg.

- that someone was you.

- if only you knew what you were doing, you would be appalled... maybe a little grateful... but for the most part, appalled.

- your soft breath brushed hisoka’s back delicately, making his nerves transform into an quivery yet arrogant smirk. your arm was wrapped around his chest and your leg was draped across his side. you were obviously deeply sleeping. he couldn’t see you from the way you were embracing his back, but he could have easily woken you up at any given moment.

- so, why didn’t he wake you up?

- maybe it was because he could tease you about it in the morning. yeah. that seemed reasonable. that seemed alike to what hisoka would usually do.

- or maybe it was something else, something he didn’t want to come to terms with, something panging within his heart, something festering inside of him, something that was a victim to his ignorance of emotion.

- much like he had done to you earlier, you burrowed into his shoulder, sighing contentedly, blissfully unaware of what was going on.

- blissfully unaware of the way you were ruling over hisoka, the way you were confusing him and making his emotions a tumultuous mess.

- surprisingly, you clinging to him helped him sleep, and within 15 minutes, hisoka was out like a light. though neither of you were conscious enough to experience it, those few hours you spent embracing each other felt tranquil. it almost felt normal, or like something that should have happened long ago, but never did.

- as peaceful as those hours were, the moment you woke up, everything crumbled into chaos. complete and utter mayhem - at least, on your part.

- you woke up calmly enough, as one usually does, without realising where you were or what you were doing. but, as soon as you registered that you weren’t hugging a pillow, but in fact a person, your reflexes triggered and you abruptly let go, jolting backwards and upright.

- oh my god.

- not just a person.

- hisoka morow.

- you stared at him dozing away, like the little jerk he was.

- what had he done to you? had he put you under some spell? no, that wouldn’t make sense. he was a transmuter, not a manipulator. the bastard probably didn’t even know how to manipulate. then, what was it? was it his dumb bungee gum? your mind was racing 100 miles per hour, so you sat on the left side of the bed, sullen and confused.

- your side of the bed. the left side. the side you had so protectively proclaimed as “your side”. yet there you had been, on his side of the bed, cuddling him? what type of sorcery had he used to make you embrace him so passionately?

- facing the wall, you rationalised yourself. hisoka wouldn’t have done anything, right? but neither would you. right? right?

- “awake, are we?”

- hisoka interrupted your disarray of thoughts. you stood up and turned to look at him. he was propped up on the header of the bed, staring at you composedly. with those amber eyes. what was he on? why was he doing this to you?

- “you...” you began accusing him but couldn’t finish. looking at hisoka, he seemed... well-rested for once. did he even know what had happened? was he waiting for you to admit something?

- “i...? i what, y/n? use your words~” he cooed mischievously.

- oh, the jackass. he definitely knew.

- you glared at him, unable to compile your thoughts into words. you watched as he stood up and walked toward you, until he was standing opposite you, gazing into your eyes. he smiled knowingly at you, causing an surge of emotions to rush up your throat, inciting you to say something, to do something, anything.

- “did you...”

- “no, y/n. it was you.” he simpered.

- oh.

- he raised his hand and pat you on the head, a sly and righteous smirk ceasing to wipe off his lips. he left to the bathroom, leaving you standing there, mouth agape, eyebrow twitching in annoyance. or perhaps, better said, in confusion. when did you start clinging to people like that?

- why... did you feel so at home? when you first woke up, something had been different. some sort of warmth had enveloped you, in your heart. it had felt nice to have someone to lie close to.

- in the meantime, hisoka was also seriously mulling over his emotions for you. so many questions invaded his mind, each popping up quicker than the last had been answered.

- sometimes, he felt as if it would be better to keep everything about you tucked away. underneath his charming, intelligent mask was years of emotion and love and hatred and all things deemed merely human, but too human for him to ever “deserve”.

- as the jester stared at his dazed reflection in the cheap hotel mirror, he came to this conclusion; it wasn’t a matter of what he deserved, or his entitlement. he had to confront the obvious truth that had been bugging him for so long.

- he would tell you he loved you, but not for himself. he would do it for you.

- let’s just say this was the start of something new.

hey so i thought it’d also be good to mention that this is my first time writing a fic on here... to be honest, it’s more the format of a drabble, but i hope you enjoyed! the word count was 2084 words, so i’m super sorry for rambling on too much - i feel like i got a little too deep into hisoka’s character at the end there. illumi’s and chrollo’s version will be coming when i have the time!

either way, likes or reblogs or whatever are super appreciated, but don’t feel forced to or anything! either way, i feel like no one’s gonna see this with my reach LMAOO but anyways thank you for reading, if you made it here! feedback and tips for writing on here are always helpful :)

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 3 years ago

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Kar’taylir Darasuum

AN ESSAY ON LOVE IN MANDALORIAN CULTURE

A/N: This post has been a long time coming and I am SORRY for that. The lovely @darkmist111 wanted to know more about courtship and romance as it pertains to the world of Resol’nare, and well... I sort of got carried away with research and head cannons and... well, you’ll see.

Quick links: Resol’nare // Hokan’yc // Mando’a Dictionary

WC: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of violence, death - they are a culture of warriors, my friends, it’s unavoidable.

thank you so much for this ask and for your patience while i worked on it! oh boy buckle up here we go:

Courtship

Courtship in Mandalorian culture is often a very short time period. Relationships move quickly from one stage to the next, because Mandalorians know better than many cultures that tomorrow is never promised. That being said, they don’t just pair off indiscriminately, and while physical appearance holds little to no weight in terms of attraction, there are other things that do certainly tip the scales.

For someone like Din, brought up in an extremely strict covert with an adherence to The Way of the Mandalore that leaves very little room for interpretation, the most attractive trait a person can have is skill as a fighter. Knowing that the person they are pledging their soul to is capable of not only watching their six in battle, but protecting themselves and any children that might be in the family (foundlings or otherwise) is extremely important to Mandalorians. As such, many courtships begin while Mandos are in the final stages of training, when they begin to leave the covert to go on missions. (See Hokan’yc for Din’s story of young love at this stage in his life, and meet Aashi Zurn, the Mando who bested him in the sparring chamber and won his heart in the process.)

Trust and loyalty are extremely important to Mandalorians when seeking a partner. Marriage in Mandalorian culture is meant to be forever- eternal- as Mandalorians believe that their souls live on after death, and remain connected to their loved ones until the end of time. Depending on the level of anonymity the individuals in question choose as a lifestyle (i.e. helmets on at all times or removed in front of others, names known or unknown), Mandalorians might show their trust in a partner by telling them something personal about themselves, something that they would normally keep a secret either out of pride or protection. This is usually returned in kind, a sort of exchanging of secrets that begins the binding of their two souls together that will continue throughout their relationship so that if/when they choose to marry, they are speaking the truth when they say that they know one another- in a way that no one else ever will.

Some small ways that Mandalorians will show affection or appreciation for one another during their courtship and long into their relationship (because Mandalorians don’t just fall in love and settle, they keep falling deeper into it, letting it grow stronger) include: helping them clean their armor or weapons, tending to any aches and pains from old injuries- most Mandalorians make their own herbal salves that they use to soothe inflammation or to help heal scarring, and sharing from your own personal blend to provide comfort for your partner goes a long way. (This will come up in more than one way in Resol’nare, so look out for that in the future.) sharing or preparing a favorite meal, and in the event that they really want to emphasize their feelings, they will give a piece of their own armor to their partner, showing that they are ready to view them as a part of themselves, ready to protect them with their own life if necessary.

The tradition of wearing the armor of their beloved comes from ancient times, when a Mandalorian fell in love with another who was a member of an enemy clan and had been captured by her people. To protect her lover from those who would kill them on sight just based on the sigil or coloring of their armor, she traded some of her plates with some of theirs so that they could escape unnoticed. Once two Mandalorians are wed, not even blood feuds between clans can come between them, so the exchanging of armor became seen as a sort of intention to marry for many Mandalorians.

Because Mandalorian culture takes root in various other cultures, some traditions from those other cultures cross over into theirs. For example, while no Mandalorian would ever make the mistake of asking a woman’s father for her hand in marriage and Mandalorian women are seen as complete equals and therefore able to make their own choices when it comes to their partners, some clans will still partake in common practices like introducing their intended to their family or announcing their engagement to their families and loved ones before making it known to others in the community. While jewlery is extremely uncommon in Mandalorian culture (unless it is functional, such as a beskar collar style necklace) engagement tokens like pendants engraved with the two names or rings either without stones, or rings with low profile stones inlaid into the bands- in some cases a gemstone will be embedded within the metal on the underside of the band, where it makes contact with the finger- are considered standard in most other cultures, so they are sometimes still exchanged but are in no way necessary to solidify an engagement or an intent to marry.

Marriage

The actual vows exchanged between Mandalorians are short and to the point, and there is no required ceremony, no officiant or witness needed, no record keeping of any sort, so the actual wedding is usually done just between the two individuals in private. Traditionally they are as follows:

"Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde" which translates to "We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors."

Once the vows are said, the marriage is official and the Riduurok bond is forged and must be acknowledged and respected by all Mandalorians.

Newlyweds will lift the helmet of their spouse once the vows have been sworn so that they may be sealed more intimately. In the case of Mandalorians who keep their faces hidden, this may be the first time that one or both of them sees the other without their helmet. In other cases, the removal of their riduur’s armor is merely symbolic.

Although there are no formalities that need to happen in order to legitimize a marriage, there are of course some traditions and rituals that are completed which Mandalorians believe safeguard and strengthen their bond with their spouse. These include getting specific tattoos, and adding each other’s sigil to armor or weapons.

Riduurok Tattoos

Tattooing is an important part of Mandalorian culture. Regardless of their culture of origin, where they come from, or how they choose to interpret the Creed, it is rare to come across an adult Mandalorian with no tattoos. Even the New Mandalorians under Satine’s pacifist regime continued to carry on tattooing, though not as extensively or ritualistically as the more orthodox communities like the one that Din, Paz and The Armorer come from. For them it was done more for decorative purposes. Though their designs still pay homage to shapes and motifs that are meaningful to all Mandalorians, they also include more aesthetic design elements such as florals, vines or stars.

Typically a Warrior will receive their first tattoo when they complete their training at thirteen; a thick black chevron shaped cuff on their left bicep. This symbolizes that they are part of the larger Tribe of Mandalorians outside of their own clans, and serves to remind them of the duty that they have to protect all Mandalorians. They have to look at it each time they don or remove their armor, and in the abhorrent event that they are stripped of their armor in defeat, the ink serves as symbolic beskar so that they remain protected in the afterlife. Bands and chevrons are added to symbolize achievements in battle or heroic action to protect their covert.(Din has five bands on his left arm, the latest one just below his elbow- his first when he completed mandatory training at 13, his second when he completed additional elite training, his third when helped relocate the covert to Nevarro- see Hokan’yc- his original covert was located on Dantooine- his fourth when he was injured protecting a group of foundlings, and the fifth after claiming the Darksaber. He would absolutely have more bands had he not spent so much time away from the covert. He absolutely will have more bands by the time Resol’nare ends.) For Mandalorians who live a long life or are extremely skilled fighters, it is not uncommon for these bands to cover the entire arm from mid bicep to wrist. If more space is needed, another chain of bands is added to the left thigh ranging downwards. It is said that no Mandalorian has ever completely covered their entire left side, simply because in a war-based culture, life expectancy is cut short.

Mythosaur skulls, clan signets, troop affiliations and words or short phrases in Mando’a are also typical designs that Mandalorians may choose to have done. The Mythosaur is usually tattooed on the back while the right bicep is where Mandalorians will honor their families in their chosen way. Usually it is by adding their clan signet, names of loved ones or parents, or even symbols or patterns that are significant to their culture of origin. ( Navina has a tattoo on her right arm to pay tribute to her mother’s- who was a foundling- culture. It will be revealed in an upcoming chapter so that is all that I can say about that! Din also has the Mythosaur skull inside of a triangle on the right side of his chest, and his Mudhorn signet on his right shoulder.)

Riduurok tattoos are placed on the left side or center of the chest, over the individual’s heart, and are done as soon as possible after marriage vows are sworn. Taking the shape of the Kar'ta Beskar, Mandalorians personalize them by adding their spouse’s name in Mando’a in the empty space in the middle of the design. Like the arm bands, these are also meant to symbolize armor of sorts. They represent the way that married couples remain connected no matter if they are together or apart; that they are one, an integral part of the other, even in death. They also signify the strength gained through marriage, as well as the protection a Mandalorian vows to provide for their partner. Love is seen as something that fortifies, never weakens, and that is represented in this tattoo as well.

(Terrible graphic made with love by me)

This particular tattoo comes directly from a Mandalorian myth predating modern record keeping. Legend has it that long ago, a Mandalorian warrior returned home from battle, eager to see his riduur after so much time away. When he arrived, however, he found only her lifeless form, the soul of the one he had tied himself to no longer inhabiting the flesh and bone of her body. She had been slain, taken from him and from their life together, and it opened in him a new capacity for rage, something far more fierce than fire. It is said that in the moment that the Mandalorian warrior saw what had happened in his absence, vengeance itself was unleashed into existence.

The warrior, fueled by this new urge, this extreme desire to avenge the death of his wife, tracked down the marauders who were responsible for her death and killed them one by one. The last of them, as he watched the Mandalorian take his accomplices’ lives, did not beg or grovel. He could see that it would do no good. Instead, he confessed that he did not think that Mandalorians had the capacity to love so deeply as to inspire such retaliation, that he did not think Mandalorians were open to things that could make them weak, things like love.

“Only fools like you would think that love makes one weak.” he spat at the man. “True love is power, it is strength- it is the joining of two into one and nothing, not even death can diminish it. But you? Death will erase your soul and before long you will be forgotten.”

The Mandalorian warrior killed the final marauder then, and as he did the pure rage that he felt upon discovering the death of his riduur quieted. Instead, he felt her presence, as though she were there to wrap her arms around him. He felt her strength enter his heart, and though he would mourn her loss immensely, he knew that she would never truly be gone, that he would always carry her and that they would reunite when his journey came to an end. As a tribute to his riduur and what she would always mean to him, the warrior etched her name over his heart in ink, encasing it in the oblong diamond shape of the Kar'ta Beskar, symbolizing that she is the source of his strength, a kind of armor that protected him from facing eternity alone. From then on, Mandalorians added the Riduurok Tattoo into their marriage rituals.

Clan Sigils

In the case that both Mandalorians have already been assigned sigils, or if they have sigils that they inherited from their own clans, they will either combine both symbols into one new one, or they will add their spouse’s sigil right beside their own on their armor and/or weapons. (In Resol’nare, Navina’s beskar kal that she inherited from her father- thanks of course to Firo- displayed the sigils of both of her parents, as well as her own name)

If only one of the two can claim a sigil as their own distinct mark, they will extend it to their spouse as they extend every part of themselves through marriage, and if neither one has been assigned a sigil, they will both take the sigil of the first one who is assigned one.

It is completely up to the individuals regarding whether or not they will choose to take their spouse’s name- the important thing is that they are under the same sign, as their sigils are yet another bond that they carry into the afterlife that helps them reunite once both have rejoined the Manda.

THANK YOU AGAIN TO @darkmist111 for this request. I had a lot of fun thinking about and writing this, and it was a great way for me to finally dive back into the world of Resol’nare. :)

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the tags! :)

tags: @something-tofightfor @alraedesigns @pheedraws @valkblue @malionnes @gollyderek @fific7 @becs-bunker @commanderlola @greatcircle79 @cannedsoupsucks @dihra-vesa @marauderskeeper @disgruntledspacedad

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #head canon #the mandalorian HCs #resol'nare #din djarin #oc: navina harsa #din djarin x navina harsa #din x navina #mando'a #courtship marriage and romance in mandalorian culture #this is an essay #with some made up myths #and some hastily made graphics thrown in for good measure #i just really love mando culture #i would swear the creed right now if given the chance #anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk #sorry not sorry for the length of one section in particular

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ktheist · 4 years ago

Text

01 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m

“then won’t you fuck me right now? i’m already wet for you.”

“not tonight,”

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 5k

➙ warnings. explicit content, reader coming onto seokjin who’s still hung up about how he watched over her and his little brother, taehyung, all these years, they’re six years apart, fingering, rimming.

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis. you’re a horny bunny yet kim seokjin always seems to manage to slide out of your grasps like a fox every time.

follow these two as they embark on a sexual adventure whilst keeping their relationship on the low from kim taehyung who may or may not just pull out the (your) best friend and (seokjin’s) brother card to call a time-off on them for good.

➙ note. if you’re used to reading my fics, this one is a little different. it focuses less on healing and more on getting it on w your best friend’s brother ykwim.

also, if you’re not okay with the age gap or the nature of their dynamic, keep it to yourself. block and don’t engage. much love x

“i watched you grow up!” seokjin shouts right in your face as he leans so far back against the counter, you thought his back would break.

“exactly,” a suggestive smirk curls on your lips as you lean your breasts against him, making sure the angle allows him to have an eyeful of your voluptuous slopes, “i’m grown now.”

but your words seem to have snapped him out of your wonderful spell, eyes going round with realization, “you’re nineteen!”

“and,” your finger teasingly travel up from his chest and a few inches above dip of his collarbone where the protrusion of his adam’s apple dips and stops at, “legal.”

“taehyung will kill me,” he reasons, large, secure hand wrapping around your wrist before he holds it away from his throat.

“only if he knows,” your free hand caresses the noticeable protrusion in his pants that’s pressing deliciously against your stomach.

seokjin’s mouth opens and closes twice but no words come out. and he’s not exactly making any moves to hold your teasing hand away from his boner.

“please, seokjin?” with a voice as sweet as angel’s and a tilt of head just in the right angle, you give him your best puppy eye, “i can’t take it anymore, after i saw how hung you were last month when i accidentally walked in on you in the bathroom... you’re all i think about - and you weren’t even hard back then!” you giggle when his hand finally captures yours when you try to pull down the zipper of his pants.

seokjin’s lush lips glisten from his tongue swiping out to wet them - you may not have spent as much time with him than with his brother but you know that whenever he does that little tongue thing and seem to stare off into nothing in particular - it’s because he’s heavily considering the possibility of delving into whatever that had his head occupied.

but before he can even say a word, the sound of keys jiggling from the other side of the door echoes into the space where you’d trapped him, in the middle of twirling around with a newly filled glass of water. you’d easily took the glass out of his hand, noting the way he arched a brow but silently watched as you placed it on the counter next to him before you boxed him between you and the counter.

“...that’s why i’m telling you! we need more cheese!” taehyung walks in with two bags of groceries, head craned towards his elder brother and middle child of the kims - namjoon who only shakes his head at the younger boy’s antics.

“we already bought three packets of cheese,” by the time namjoon’s pointing out the unbelievable bought, you’re already helping taehyung get the backs off his hands and placing them on the counter across where seokjin stands, front facing the counter, boner hidden underneath and hand gripping the poor glass until his knuckles turn white.

“oh my god, spicy carbonara ramen!” you squeal, finding out the signature light pink packet before setting that aside - you don’t trust anyone in this house to not steal your food unless you keep it safe in your room.

“you’re too obsessed with that thing,” taehyung asserts from next to you, sitting on one of the stools, eating out of the bag of cheese-flavored chips.

“uh-huh, maybe if seokjin or namjoon says that, i’d take it more seriously,” you don’t miss the way the eldest brother’s eyes sweeps up to you in an automatic response to his name.

to anyone else, your smile would look as if you’re sharing the same humor for teasing taehyung.

“uh, i’m like the boss of moderation,” taehyung waves a dismissive hand.

“the three packets of cheese in the fridge disagrees,” you twirl around, stealing the bag out of his grasp and leaning against the counter as you place one chip into your mouth.

you notice seokjin padding towards the hallway where the rooms are and somewhere at the end, lies the infamous bathroom you speak of that changed your life forever.

the kims and your family have known each other for years. having been next door neighbors, it’s almost inevitable that you’d be best friends with the same-age, truck toy-wielding boy. your parents didn’t need to worry when they didn’t find you in your room - they could just ring up the kims’ and ask if their daughter were over without telling them which, most of the time, was the case.

you didn’t get to hang out at school because you went to an all-girls school and taehyung and his brothers went to a co-ed school. seokjin was the kinder but still fun to hang out with brother but wasn’t around most times. he was already in high school when you were in elementary - had his own set of friends, joined robotics for the entirety of his high school career which made him immesurably busy. namjoon’s alright but he’s more quiet and also somehow managed to get you and taehyung to do your homeworks even though you initially came over to get away from your parents nagging you to do said homework.

you should’ve seen that diplomatic but persuasive nature of his would have landed him a job in one of the biggest firms in seoul. seokjin took on a much different route, choosing to work for samsung’s sister company that specialized in r&d-ing micro-everything that goes into the phone - which is also in seoul.

you and taehyung got into the same university but the different in majors yet again obstruct you from hanging out whenever you wanted to which was why you were almost always around in the weekend at the kim brothers’ shared apartment. that meant sacrificing your back, sleeping on the thinly layered futon taehyung bought for you on sale because he finally took pity on your sleeping on the couch and suffering from back pains every morning (they were exaggerated and taehyung knew but you guessed his guilty conscience got the best of him).

“what? so your girlfriend found out i’ve been crashing at your place and she wants you to choose between me and her?” you’re in front of the laptop (they don’t have a tv) in the living room, eating a bowl of ramen while taehyung has his cheesy burrito, the movie freezing in the screen before you turn to him with the most, you’d say, nasty frown.

“i mean - she just said a girl and a guy shouldn’t be sleeping together in a room regardless if one’s on the bed and the other’s on the floor,” taehyung’s avoiding your eyes and that’s how you know he’s actually debating following that snobbish little bitch’s instructions.

now, you don’t call just anyone a bitch but when you do, she’s on your ‘don’t fuck with’ list.

“do you see my girlfriend complaining about us sharing a room when me and her were dating?” you point out in a matter of factly.

“th-this and that are two different things!” taehyung slams the burrito onto the plate in his lap and slams said plate onto the coffee table.

you say slam but it’s really possibly just a tad bit aggressive than what taehyung’s like usually.

“how is it different?” the bowl of ramen clicks sharply when you place it on the coffee table too.

“i-it just is,” taehyung shrugs.

“i can’t believe you’re choosing some bimbo over me!” hand over your chest, you look at him dramatically, jaw hanging loose and eyes accusing.

“you’ve been sleeping in the living room before i got the futon. it’ll just be like one of those days, you know what i mean?” he shrugs - or at least attempts to look casual about it.

“look at this place! it’s not even big enough to fit the futon,” hands flailing, you gesture towards the minimal space on the floor.

“it’s fine, we can move the coffee table somewhere-” taehyung still tries but you’re already vexed-marching towards the hallway with your bowl of ramen without another word.

to just about anyone, it would’ve been obvious that you’ve had it with your best friend. but taehyung being taehyung is probably desensitized to your anger fits because this time, he does sound casual when he shouts, “what about the movie? can i continue watching without you?”

“do whatever you want!” you shout back before slamming the door behind you.

it takes you a moment to gather yourself before you notice the heat of a pair of eyes on you from all the way across the room. seokjin lies in bed with his laptop on his lap, pillows elevating his upper body. he’s staring at you with arched brows and cute naturally puckered lips.

“oh, don’t mind me. i just had a fight with taehyung and i can’t stand to see him right now,” you say, walking over to the vacant table and chair, “do you mind if i finish my ramen here?”

“be my guest,” before he even lifts his hand from the laptop to gesture towards said desk, you’re already plopping down with a “thanks!”

soon enough, the tapping sound of his keyboard fills the otherwise silent room. you don’t know how long time’s passed but you’ve already finished your ramen and scrolling through instagram on your phone when you see seokjin’s latest post.

he’s sitting in a cafe, dressed in a denim jacket over a white turtle neck with a cap casting shadow over his eyes. the angle he has head head lowered makes it all the more difficult to see his expression. only his soft kissable lips are visible.

so you double tap on the picture before going into gallery and scrolling through your own pic. there’s one with you standing in front of a brick wall, clad in all black, bringing out your colorful eye makeup in conjunction with pride month. the way you’re standing accentuates your curve, bringing attention to your hips after the beholder would be done with admiring the emotions in your eyes.

you have taehyung to thank for that picture but you’re not about to tag him for credit because you haven’t really forgave him. he’s on his phone since it dinged with a notification, probably from you liking his picture. but he hasn’t even looked at you once throughout the course of that and you posting a new picture.

relentless, open up snapchat, posing for a picture and making sure the frame captures the sight of your perked breasts as you stick the tip of your tongue out, smirking and biting on it ever so gently.

with a caption of ‘don’t have a bedroom to sleep in tonight, can i sleep in urs, ggukie-yah?’

it takes a second and a half for him to set his phone down... and go back to his laptop. the tapping sound continues without even the slightest hiccup to it - and he’s already opened your snap.

so with that, you stand up, pick up your bowl, making sure to stand in a way that makes your hips more curved and breasts more defined, “well, i guess i need to get out of here since taehyung’s jealous ass girlfriend doesn’t want me sleeping in his room.”

“hm?” his brows raises at that, “you’re leaving? but it’s night time.”

your dorm is at least half an hour away and it’s too expensive by grab - you usually go back on monday with taehyung since he has a car. but since you’re not on speaking terms, both you and seokjin know that even if the youngest brother offers to drive you back - you’d straight out refuse him. would probably even say something along the lines of your friendship being over and that he has no obligations to ensure you return safely. all of it’s gotta be dramatic though. maybe add in crocodile tears.

“i’d probably stay over at a friend’s at least he’ll lend me his bed to sleep in, unlike your woman-choosing brother.” when your hand is on the handle, seokjin stops you.

“this friend... is it ‘gukkie-yah’?” and there goes the fish biting the bait.

“how did you know?” you’d like to think your tilted head and confused, drawn together eyebrows are convincing enough.

“you mistook me for him... i got your snap which was probably meant for him,” he waves his darkened phone screen in the air.

“oh my god, you did?” hand over your mouth, you gasp, “i’m so sorry, that was embarrassing.”

“it’s chill,” he shrugs.

“anyways, i’ll text him on my way there. he usually has no qualms lending a helping hand to a friend in need,” and with that, you twist the doorknob.

“are you guys... close?” the question hits the air with a different kind of tone.

“kinda,” you say, face struggling to stay neutral when you see the way his eyes glint with a dangerous gleam, “we were fwb’s in freshman year before i started dating yoona... might continue where we left off.”

“cool,” is all he says before he goes back to his laptop, the incessant tapping sound echoing throughout the room. not even a glance is spared at you the whole time you slip out of the door and close it behind you.

taehyung’s eyes catch yours for the briefest second and before he can even say anything (he looks like he would’ve said hi like he didn’t just choose his girlfriend over you), you’re holding up a hand, “don’t talk to me. i’m still mad at you for choosing a girl over me.”

as soon as you’re done washing the dishes, you pad back towards the hallway, not even caring that taehyung’s not bothering to get up from his spot or pausing the movie to talk to you - guess you’re both in that stage where you know no matter how mad the other is, they’ll never be mad enough to break the friendship for forever.

either way, if your best friend already exiled you from his room and your crush doesn’t even care about you going over to another boy’s place, you might as well actually go over to said boy’s place.

at least jeongguk’s dick game is good.

“you’re really going?” seokjin’s sillhoutte leans against the door frame whilst you’re stuffing your clothes into a h&m’s paper bag.

“yeah, like, i’m done. i’m not gonna let that bimbo think she won,” you huff while in the middle of shoving your headphones on top of the neatly folded pile.

“you can sleep with me,” as soon as he said those words, you can see panic spread through his face as he quickly adds, “in my room- on the bed- i can sleep on the floor.”

“why can’t we sleep in the same bed?”

his eyes follow the sweater that you were in the middle of folding and discard, tossing it onto taehyung’s bed.

“you and taehyung don’t-” he starts but you’re convulsing in disgust.

“ew,” you manage to hold back your rising bile. so he stays quiet. clad in a creme colored sweater that makes him look cozy and warm, “why’d you think i never complained about sleeping on the couch or on the floor? it’s cause i don’t wanna catch his cooties!”

okay, so maybe that was a lie. taehyung may be cootie-less but you’ve never been the huggy-cuddly kind of best friends. for one, it’s because you both did believe that touching the opposite gender will actually render your whole body spotted with incurable diseases and before you know it, you both were allergic to physical contact with each other at least.

seokjin doesn’t seem to believe so, otherwise he wouldn’t be shaking his head and smiling to himself.

“does that mean we can sleep in the same bed?” you cross the short distance between the bed where you’re standing over and to the door, putting on your best puppy eye.

“sure, why not?” seokjin caves like he always does back then.

you squeal in delight, arms wrapping around his waist as you give him a big hug whilst he freezes under your touch but doesn’t tell you to go away, “eeep, thanks!”

it’s almost as if the incident at the kitchen this afternoon was just a dream.

taehyung has tried talking to you - you say talk because no word of apology slipped through his mouth - but you’re having none of it, hiding behind seokjin’s big bro influence, or so you’d like to call it, when he burst through his eldest brother’s door, demanding for his best friend, “i know she’s in here!”

“she is,” seokjin says simply and you’re about to shoot him accusatory looks before he chuckles, “but she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“____, come on, the squad’s all ready to play,” so that’s what he’s after.

over the years, you and taehyung have gathered your own like-minded people when it comes to video games. you don’t own a personal computer so your laptop suffers for it but the upside is that you get to bring it everywhere and it’s a pretty sturdy, gamer laptop.

“i’m playing here,” you say, laptop already set up on seokjin’s desk, headphones on.

“okay, whatever,” with a roll of his eyes, taehyung closes the door, leaving you and seokjin alone again.

and so it goes, you giving rapt attention to the game and the occasional comments spilling out of your lips when one of you make a dumb mistake or when one of you manage to kill off the enemy team’s avatar until you end up being killed yourself.

“what?” jeongguk - oh, he’s part of the squad - drags out as if he couldn’t belive his eyes.

“that’s cheating, bro,” taehyung’s voice rings in your earphone, “they literally ganged up on ___!”

“shit, shit, shit, shit, we’re gonna lose,” hoseok chants like a mantra.

“no, we’re not gonna lose,” you can just hear jimin rolling his eyes.

“bro, stop capping! we lost our fighter!” hoseok is at a point where he’s shrieking now.

“well, take however-long-it-takes-for-me-to-respawn, i guess,” you say in the middle of them arguing that they still have a hybrid fighter who is jeongguk.

either way, you’re already standing up, stretching your stayed-in-one-position-for-too-long limbs just in time for seokjin to walk in with a towelette draped over his head - you remember him using those cute little printed ones back then to dry his face after he brushed his teeth and cleansed his face. sure enough, he looks as fresh as the air that you’re about to take.

“you’re going to bed?” you ask the obvious.

“yeah, don’t worry, you don’t have to turn off the lights.”

“oh, don’t worry, i’m used to playing in the dark - my eyes are immune,” you wave a dismissive hand.

then he steals a glance at your laptop where your headphone lies next to it, emitting the lowest mumblings from your squad.

“you died?” he asserts - it’s obvious because otherwise, why would you even be talking to him.

“yeah, i think i’m gonna go wash my face now too.”

and with that, you’re out of the door, bursting in taehyung’s and shaking his shoulders to distract him as he reports the act of disturbance you’re comitting to the squad before you leave for the bathroom where your toiletries have made home in the cabinet along with taehyung’s belongings whilst namjoon and seokjin opts for placing theirs on either corners of the sink.

when you’re back, the room is already dark with your laptop being the only thing guiding your steps. there’s a lump underneath the blanket on the left side of the bed and another bright light casting sight on seokjin’s face as he scrolls through his phone.

he doesn’t bat an eye when you climb over, only looking up when it’s too late. thanks to his phone light, you can see how his eyes widen as he gazes at you with a mixture of disbelief and confusion.

you just pecked him on his cheek.

“good night,” and with that, you bound over to your laptop, noting that you’ve already respawned and getting shit talked by your squad for your tardiness and almost being the cause that the whole team was going to lose.

but fifteen minutes in, you make a blunder that causes the whole team to lose, “alright, alright, i don’t think i’m in my zone right now. maybe i’ll hit the sack.”

a chorus of protests erupts through your headphone as jeongguk starts calling you out on uncanny ability to stay up all night playing.

“i’m hitting twenty!” you dramatically moan, “my body doesn’t work like it used to!”

the protests floods in one more time but by then, you’re already saying your goodbyes, making sure to give taehyung a warning not to come bursting into seokjin’s room because he’s already asleep and you don’t want to get kicked out for being the cause his little brother disrupted his sleep to find the best friend he’s housing after she got exiled.

“seokjin?” you whisper into the dark, climbing onto the bed for the second time of the night but this time, you’re on top of the human-sized lump.

when no answer comes from the man, you giggle, “please, i heard your phone shutting off when i was telling the boys i was going to bed- had one headphone over my ear and the other off.”

only then does the man underneath you move, his tone bearing a warning, “taehyung is right across the hallway.”

“shh,” you’re groping blindly, but lady luck deems that you find seokjin’s neck and then his plump lips with ease, “then we better be real quiet.”

unlike this morning, he isn’t as deflective. doesn’t tell you to stop even when you’re grinding directly over him. and boy, is he hung.

“you know,” he lets you pry the sheets off him, kicking it off his feet completely as you take a seat on his hardening self, breasts pressed against his chest as you slowly lay yourself on him, “i was hoping you’d fuck me when i was playing,” his heartbeat is deliciously erratic, “bend me over the desk and fuck me while i talk to my friends like nothing’s happening.”

seokjin’s teeth grazing over your thumb that you use to shush him comes off as a pleasant surprise. your only regret is not letting the laptop stay on so you’d at least be able to see what kind of expression he’d make.

“you might not be able to keep your moans in on your first time with me,” the unadulterated confidence reeking off him is enticing. so ever different from the kim seokjin who’d throw around dad jokes in the house whenever the four of you sit down to have dinner, “none of the ladies i slept with could.”

“is that a challenge?” you don’t pretend to hide your excited tone as you shoot up, eyes searching for a face but all you see is darkness.

but you feel him underneath. you smell his fresh minty breath. you hear his deep breaths. you feel him.

“touch me,” it doesn’t take long for you to find both of his hands after you took off your tanktop and bra, mainly because they’re caressing your ass. all you do is cup them over your exposed breasts.

his hands are larger than jeongguk’s. they swallow your voluptous breasts like they were quarter sized cups. but by god, does he know how to fondle a woman. he teases you, grazing his thumb over your erect nipples ever so gently that you crave for more. it’s no surprise that when his hand snakes behind you and pulls you down, you easily submit.

you’ve always wondered how his lips would feel on you - but you never thought the first thing they’d be on is your nipple. suckling and biting tenderly whilst his hand makes sure your other nipple is kept accompanied.

“ah!” a mixture of a moan and a shout escapes your lips when he bites a tad too hard. teasing. testing the waters.

“for a little minx, you’re quite sensitive,” his chuckle is as warm and endearing. too warm and endearing for someone who’s doing things he shouldn’t do to his precious little brother’s best friend.

“the boys dig it,” you remark, not knowing that it would spark a fire that burns so bright, it can only be put out by your silent suffering as he flips you two over.

“that’s right, you’ve only ever had boys,” it’s not a question and even if it is, you wouldn’t have the time to answer because you’re yelping in surprise at the coolness that licks your entrance, legs forced open by seokjin’s knee.

“and girls- ah!”

a lone, single fingerpad rims around your opening. and that’s all it takes for you to swallow thickly. breath coming out bated with anticipation. heartbeat racing.

“let’s see, if you don’t make a sound, i’ll fuck you while you play next time,” he slips the tip of his finger in as if testing you, hoping you’d moan right when he sets down his offer on the table. your bottom lip hurts from suddenly forcing your teeth on it but that’s a small price to pay especially when you haven’t heard of the second half of the deal, “if you do make a sound, we stop this whole thing - no more teasing, no more seemingly innocent little gestures.”

“alright, bet,” that might’ve come off a little prickly, but it’s all seokjin’s fault! if he wasn’t hung like a horse, you would’ve taken one speculative glance and left him to his own devices!

the sweet chuckle echoing off the walls is disarming. so much so, when he slips one digit into you, your back arches and you’re biting into the pillow to stop a moan from escaping.

“is that a moan i hear? since we just started, i’ll let you off the hook,” there it is again, that disarming trickle of hymn as he slips in and out of you, loosening you up for something much, much bigger.

“it was a cough, god damn it,” you barely manage to get that out before you’re shoving your curled index finger into your mouth when he starts inserting two fingers inside without so much as a warning.

“that’s cheating!” you whine but your legs spread wider anyway.

“all is fair in war and sex,” he comments, free hand pinning your hips down on the bed before he starts thrusting his digits faster, the squelching sound of your juices reverberating against the walls - you fear that even without your moans, the two other brothers that are walls apart would’ve heard and come knocking on seokjin’s door.

along with the fear comes the electrifying euphoric sensation that courses from the tip of your toes to your core and all over your body. you remember clawing at seokjin’s hand that’s pinning you down because of how unbearably rapturous he’s making you feel. you remember his hand not budging a single inch from your meek attempts. you remember trying to bring your legs together but something’s wedged in between them. you remember tears pricking your eyes as the background slowly fades - taehyung’s presence in the room across from where you are, the possibility of namjoon coming back and walking down the hallway right as your back arches upwards and toes curling inwards as sparks course through your veins.

when your senses come back, seokjin’s in the middle of complimenting your hardwork, if “not bad” is even plausibly a praise. his fingers are still inside you, unmoving, possibly waiting for you to come down from your pleasured state.

“did i pass?” you might have been a little too elated.

“surprisingly,” he affirms, that beautiful sound of chuckles spilling out of his mouth.

“then won’t you fuck me right now? i’m already wet for you,” the last part, you say with a tinge of spoiled-ness.

“not tonight,” he says, before instructing you to lift up your head and slipping his shirt over it. you know it’s his because his heat still lingers when you slip your arms through the arm holes, cheeks hot as you forearm brushes against a nude chest as he pulls the sheets up over you.

but you being you, manage to ruin the moment with your, “why not?”

seokjin hums, that sound alone enough to make your heart shake with a sort of emotion that you can’t pinpoint, “like taehyung says - things are better in moderation.”

“he never said that,” you plainly dispute.

“well,” a kiss lands on the side of your head and an arm drapes over your stomach, just above the area where he used the same hand attached to that arm to pin you down as he fingered you, “let’s just say it’s my way of keeping you from going back to that ggukie-guy.”

you gasp into the dark, “are you jealous?!”

“i sure am,” he admits, a bit too willingly - as if it’s a known fact.

“oh,” you say, lost for words becase - “no one really admits that they are, not the people i’ve been with at least.”

“that’s cause you never been with a man... or woman. but i’d say being with a man - me - is better. i’ll show you what you’re missing out on,” he shushes you up with a “shhh” and a hand on your jaw to turn you towards him.

a pair of the softest lips meets yours and whatever retort you’re thinking up of is already out of the window.

note. this is different than what i’m used to writing so i’ll probably need some help!! i’m planning to update this from time to time with scenarios like ‘where he picks you up from your uni’ or ‘wherein he takes you shopping’ - idk djashdsakj send in suggestions that you think will fit oc and seokjin’s dynamic and i’ll incorporate them for the upcoming parts in their (nsfw) adventures to realizing their feelings for each other while also sneaking around behind taehyung’s back! it’s cool if you don’t though! but heads up, my smut writing skills aren’t as good so you’ll probably see more sexy times / implied smut most of the time lol

either way, hope yall enjoyed this!

#seokjin x reader #bts x reader #seokjin scenarios #bts smut #seokjin smut #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fic #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fic #seokjin x you #bts x you #bts scenario #seokjin scenario

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