#by onslaught i mean two pictures
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Harana Preview | Jungkook
harana (n.): the act of wooing someone by serenading them
→ summary:
Unwilling to settle down with you after five years of dating, Jeon Jungkook decides to break up to chase after his dreams. In the aftermath, you leave your hometown, desperate to forget your past and relearn what it means to be on your own. Two years later while on your way to work, you pass by a familiar voice singing songs about a girl he had left behind.
{or alternatively: Jungkook still sings the love songs that he wrote for you. He still means them, too.}
→ genre: busker!au, exes to lovers, fluff, angst
→ warnings: jimin is insane and kinda crude (he has some issues going on), jungkook is a pathetic wet bunny but he's trying his best, so much yearning, ambiguous ending??? but my god there is hope!! the humanity of it all!!
→ words: anticipated 10-15K
→ a/n: what da hell who is she... HEY SO its been a while since ive written anything longer than 2k words and i really wanted to get back into writing, if only for practice... plus this is part of my heart full of hugot series that i teased literally eons ago and i want to finish it before the year ends... pray for my sanity ( ; ω ; )
part of the “heart full of hugot” series
As you struggle to pull yourself together, a familiarly loud voice rings outside the edge of your consciousness. “Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here…” Jimin greets you, his usual jovial demeanor halting midway when he sees your panicked expression. He clears his throat, perplexed. “Umm… Are you alright there, girl? You’re looking a little pale.”
You do not even have the mental capacity to wonder why Park Jimin was miraculously early to his shift, nor why he seems genuinely worried for you. Rather, all you can do is wave him off and use what little time you have before the restaurant opens to steel yourself for hours of melodious torture.
“I’m fine, Park. You should get to work,” you grit out, wiping your sweaty palms on your uniform. Normally, Jimin would have teased you about the obvious wrinkles on your skirt.
“You’re not the boss of me,” Jimin huffs, always the contrarian. He thinks better of it, however, and softens his tone. “Are you feeling sick or something? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
You freeze, perhaps giving yourself away a little. “I’m fine,” you repeat.
“You know, if you refuse to elaborate, I’m going to have to retract your shower privileges,” Jimin taunts with a smirk.
You feel a migraine growing by your temple, making you wince. God, why must men be the source of all your problems?
“I’m just… a little annoyed by the busker outside the restaurant,” you eventually admit, trying to be vague. Unfortunately for you, Jimin hates beating around the bush and would never take your crap if he knows something is up.
Unable to withstand the weight of his unimpressed stare, you continue, “He was someone I used to know, that’s all.” You aren’t going to be any more specific than that, though you imagine Jimin gets the picture. You zip your lips, hoping to whoever is causing you pain that Jimin would somehow let the matter drop and leave you to your misery.
You brace yourself for his onslaught of questioning to come, and… it doesn’t happen. Instead, when you glance at Jimin, he is mysteriously stone faced. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a few minutes, but he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to tease or ridicule you. He simply watches you with a pensive expression. You can barely stop yourself from staring back at him, slack-jawed at his silence.
Of course, you aren’t just going to question your luck, or what little you have at least. So, you stay silent back and purse your lips uncomfortably.
Finally, Jimin seems to snap out of his strange reverie. He fixes you with a bizarrely sympathetic grin, patting you affectionately on the back. “I see… Well, if you ever need a drink tonight, head over to the bar for a little sip. I got you covered,” is all he says in response before sashaying away.
That was so fucking weird. You want to chase after him, perhaps beat the truth out of him. Jimin is nothing but a scheming dick, and you aren’t about to let him roam free with such sensitive information about yourself. Just as you’re about to stomp his ass (perhaps to relieve some of the building tension from your weary soul), your manager pops his head from his office door.
“Y/N! Make sure you’re logged into the booking system. There’s going to be a party of 20 coming in about an hour,” he reminds you, shooting you an apologetic look. You nod back with a sigh, swiping the booking tablet from the hostess desk and scrolling through the logs. Sure enough, it is going to be a busy night despite being a Monday evening. Perhaps a little busier than usual, in fact.
Whatever. You will use whatever distraction you can get, and perhaps the approaching noise from the restaurant patrons will be enough to drown out the sound of his voice.
You aren’t religious by any means, but you pray to whatever higher power exists that Jeon Jungkook doesn’t somehow decide to enter the restaurant. Stay outside, you plead. Outside the restaurant and your life, if possible.
Throughout the evening, you do your best to push aside the memories that threaten to resurface. You greet customers with a smile, lead them to their tables, and ensure their dining experience is pleasant despite the anxiety poisoning your insides. It's a routine you've perfected over time, a shield against the chaos of your emotions.
As the night wears on, you can feel Jimin's eyes on you from across the restaurant. You sneak glances back at him, and you blanch at his pitying gaze. If the restaurant had been slightly less crowded, you would have flipped him off.
He’s probably enjoying my suffering, you think darkly. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you straighten up and do your best to appear more unaffected. Just as you do so, you can hear Jungkook perfectly hitting a soulful high note.
“I’m so sorry for thinking I was strong,” you whisper to the universe. “Forgive me for my insolence.” You clench your fist in anguish, ignoring the confused looks from the customers in front of you.
By the time your shift comes to a close, you are completely and utterly drained. You feel like a snail that has been continuously salted over the past eight hours, and you cannot help but cheer in relief when the clock finally strikes two in the morning. You have to wait for the last few diners to make their leave, but otherwise you are ready to let your bed swallow you whole.
You stand by your hostess desk, leaning your head against it with a defeated sigh. Jungkook’s voice had died down only a few minutes ago, and you hope that by this point he has mercifully left the premises. You want to take a peek to make sure, but just as you’re about to make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder stop you in your tracks.
“‘Sup, bitch.” Jimin still has that weird, pitying gaze pointed at you, though his words don’t match it. “Are you okay to go home alone tonight? I can bring your dumb ass home if you want.”
You shove his hand away, ready to bite his head off when you think better of it. If Jimin drives you home, then that lowers the chances of seeing Jungkook down to pretty much zero.
“You know what? Thanks,” you grouse. Jimin smiles at you winningly, and the image of it brings a shiver down your spine. You hit him, creeped out. “Hey. Stop that, will you? You’re being really weird?”
Jimin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Me? Weird? At least I don’t look like a damn firework ready to explode just because my cringelord ex-boyfriend is singing sappy love songs outside—”
“Shut the fuck up,” you seethe, stomping on his foot. He yelps in pain and slaps your shoulder in retaliation.
“Ouch! Watch your ogre feet! My shoes are worth twice your monthly rent I’ll have you know,” he bristles. He breathes deeply, likely finding his inner calm (which you doubt exists). “But because I’m so nice, I’ll ignore your earlier transgression and blame it on your underdeveloped amygdala.”
You don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Jimin knew what an amygdala was or that he was forgiving you in the first place. “Whatever. Let’s finish closing up and then head out. I’m exhausted.”
#my wips#bts scenarios#bts fanfiction#bts imagines#bts x reader#jungkook scenarios#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook imagines#jungkook x reader#i gotta stop making jimin a gremlin in these LMAOOO#at the very least he isnt insane in his installment of this series#idk who i should write for next... maybe hoseok? its been a while since ive written for him (or written anything at all lol)#i need to stop making hoseok evil... new year new me#OK ANYWAY i'll post the entire thing soon-ish... yippeeeee
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Thai nationals Nutthawaree Munkan and Boonthom Pankhong, former hostages in Gaza who were freed in late November, got married in a private ceremony in Thailand a few days ago, the Ynet news site reported Sunday.
The couple fell in love and began a relationship while working as agricultural laborers on a moshav in southern Israel, but were separated on October 7, when Hamas stormed Israeli border communities in an onslaught that killed 1,200 and saw 253 taken hostage, about 130 of whom still remain in Gaza.
Both Munkan and Pankhong were freed in November after 50 days of captivity as part of a weeklong truce between Israel and Hamas that saw 105 hostages, including 23 Thai workers, released.
After recuperating in Israel, the couple reunited and returned to Thailand to settle in the Khon Kaen province of the country’s northeast.
“It was a small ceremony with only our parents and close relatives. It didn’t suit us to hold a big wedding ceremony,” Munkan told Ynet from Thailand.
She and her husband planned to get married long before their capture, and were working to “save money for a future together.”
Despite the immense hardship they faced as Hamas hostages, the couple intends to return to Israel for financial reasons, but “look for a safer place” rather than returning to somewhere close to the Gaza border.
“We decided together that we would do this in order to have the means to send our children to good schools and save money for when they grow up. I watched the news from Israel and saw missiles fell in the north, but it didn’t change our decision,” said Munkan.
The Thai citizens released from Hamas captivity are seen with Thai officials in Israel on November 25, 2023. (Courtesy)
“I can honestly say that we’re very worried about the captives, both Thais and Israelis,” said Munkan, who was the only woman among the Thai nationals who was taken captive. “We really wish for their return soon.”
Munkan confessed that she still constantly thinks back to what she endured as a Hamas hostage.
“It was like dying,” she said. “It was a miracle that I left Gaza. The current situation is cruel, and simply terrible.”
During her captivity in the Gaza Strip, Nutthawaree formed a friendship with an Israeli woman Danielle Aloni and her 5-year-old daughter Emilia, and reunited with them over video chat while recovering in the hospital.
“For both of us, captivity was like the end of our lives, and we have been free for a long time. I find it hard to understand how the remaining hostages will survive. I can’t stop thinking about them,” she said.
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BATMAN | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)
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“Long Overdue” (Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)
| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on an ambush when they’re overwhelmed.
-Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.
| SFW, canon typical action, cursing, past death of a child, Reader & Bruce are divorced, -angry!reader
| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source: Batman - Three Jokers comic)
| 1k+ words
| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.
Bruce clears his throat for the third time in ten minutes.
In contrast you roll your eyes for the third time in just as long before bending over to switch on the A/C. The Batmobile got stale whenever Bruce started binging. The vehicle not smelling like old blood and sweat stopped being important once your ex husband neglected his duties as Bruce Wayne.
Once upon a time that negligence would have worried you. Still does even if you vehemently tamp it down.
Another clearing of his throat.
“Spit it out already.” You hold your arm tighter to your chest at a bump in the road as you watch him, bullet wound treated rudimentarily enough to hold you over until you get to the cave but still adding to the scent of blood.
Bruce isn't a meta-human; he still emoted even if he did it in such small increments that the untrained eye wouldn’t catch on. You were far from untrained though; you’ve been speaking Bruce almost as long as Alfred has and so you see the twist of fearangersorrow that flashes across his face.
The same damn twist of fearangersorrow from the last days of you and Bruce’s relationship. This time around your stomach doesn’t drop and your body doesn’t flare, mirroring those same emotions. You don’t answer Bruce's natural pull at all in fact, only sigh as you do your best to keep your arm from jarring.
“I didn’t come here to fight. Say what you want.”
Not that you expected to get much leeway on that front. Asking Bruce to communicate without a million half truths was like asking a baby to scrape the paint off thirty feet walls. It could be done technically, it would just take a lot of patience and outside assistance.
His hands tighten on the steering wheel, gloves creaking, before he works through the motions of forcing himself to relax.
“You’re not going to like it.”
“Bruce, when's the last time I liked anything that came out your mouth?”
“You were on a video call with Dick and you laughed when I was complaining about that mite infestation in the cave.”
Of course he would remember that, living filing system that he was.
“Yeah, I was laughing at you,” you clarify with a tiny snort and Bruce gives you his faint smile.
“I know,” he says voice gone soft. You have to clench your eyes shut against the onslaught of emotions that tone elicits. How long has it been since you’ve heard it? “I'm…sorry.”
You don’t think he’s talking about the joke.
“Bruce-”
“I know,” he repeats before pausing. You recognize the active way he’s composing himself and something in you can’t help but to shrivel up. What could be so bad that he's acting nearly as off as when he had to explain how Joker killed your son to you?
Your heart pumps faster in your chest like it wants to run away from the impending news, and you have to open your mouth so that your breaths don’t begin to stutter. No more, not after Jason, you can’t take another death.
In an attempt to avoid the nearing collision of your anger and worry at Bruce gearing up to drop yet another bomb on you and straight up verbally expressing he’s sorry about it beforehand - which what the hell? - you run through what you know.
He could just be acting funny about a shared account you forgot to separate. That’s always a possibility. You focus on keeping your breathing level.
You’d seen Dick and heard from Babs tonight, talked to Dick on how to not burn down his house whilst cooking just three afternoons ago and he’d mentioned Alfred doing fine then. Hopefully that still rings true. The newest Robin that’d been dragged out of a collapsing building last week would still be recovering and no one had mentioned Timothy adding to his injuries so it likely wasn’t him that had Bruce like this, and you haven’t heard anything negative or otherwise about Batgirl.
Even this new Red Hood guy didn’t seem to be much of a problem outside of you not knowing who the hell he is and him being all up in your business earlier. You’d take a lot of shit over the dysfunctionality of you and Bruce’s relationship, but not from a stranger. Besides, you weren’t omniscient - that was more Alfred’s deal - so you weren’t exactly the best gauge on the greater intentions of the city’s newest crime boss. You made a habit of not looking too closely at Gotham’s vigilante scene if you could help it.
Joker did go by that once though, right before his metamorphic dip in a vat of acid green, but you knew it wasn’t the clown under that helmet. For one, Joker didn’t fight with Hood’s brute strength and honed finesse and secondly you knew for a fact the green haired bastard was in Arkham right now. Alive and well.
Your hands clench at the reminder.
“You let him live!”
“We are not executioners, Y/n!”
“Uh uh. Absolutely not, that’s where you’ve got me fucked up.” You take a deep breath before gesturing towards the expanse of Gotham. “When you choose over and over for this man to live you are explicitly signing everyone else’s death sentences, and how you don’t see that is beyond me.”
The way Bruce shakes his head is almost reflexive.
“We always stop him before he can do anything like that.”
“Oh really? Always? Because I got a son six feet under that says otherwise, and last time I checked so do you.”
Bruce twitches. “We don’t trade lives.”
You stare at him, your frustration a harsh nearly livable thing at that moment. The memory of him throwing you off the Joker, of the screaming match afterwards, makes your tongue taste like ash.
“Sure we do,” you murmur. “You just won’t see it that way.”
“We. Don’t. Stoop. To their level, Nightfall,” he accentuates gruffly and just as suddenly as it came your anger rushes away with the next gust of wind that lashes at your face.
An argument on methodology is not what you came here for. You're furious about The Joker, you have no doubt you always will be, but that fury isn’t what drove you to hunting Bruce down on a random rooftop. Joker isn’t what got you back in your suit on this night. Bruce is.
Bruce Batman who’s clearly getting ready to turn this into a thing again.
“Bruce. Bruce stop it.”
You look at him. Really look at him for the first time in weeks and something just…clicks. Bruce and you have been standing at a precipice this whole time. This was it. How Bruce handled Jay’s death was either going to make or break you. And if Dick going virtually no contact had been the trial run the continual state of your marriage wasn’t looking too good. No more kids to patch up the cracks. No more looking away from new cracks formed.
Your mask gets pulled off a second later.
“My baby is dead, Bruce. We had to bury our mangled son today and you want to go out and be Batman when Bruce Wayne is needed at home. I don’t want to argue philosophies, I want you to leave the cape at the door and be here for me as my husband.”
Problem was that Bruce hadn’t been able to do both, and by the end of that interaction you’d punched him for it. Punched him for your son too. One failed attempt and all of a sudden he couldn’t kill Jason’s killer or let you do it for the both of you. No, he’d cracked down instead. It would be inexcusable and he’d clash with you the whole way.
You can admit to yourself that you gave up because you didn’t want to be faced with the possibility of Bruce throwing you in jail over the Joker. He’d stopped you from wiping him from the earth three times at that point, who’s to say he wouldn’t have eventually caved and gotten you committed?
Bruce couldn’t balance being the husband to a grieving wife and being the grieving father of a murdered son. Couldn’t handle being Bruce Wayne when The Batman was so much simpler; easier to hide behind than confronting everything. So he retreated.
In a way you understood, the death of a child wasn’t something you walked away from at all in some cases and it certainly changed you in every situation, but you were supposed to have been able to deal with that blow together.
Bruce’s voice, tight and broad, less Bruce and more Bat once more, brings you out of your head.
“A few weeks ago the Red Hood made his presence known after an undisclosed amount of time hiding below the radar in Gotham with a duffel bag full of severed heads.”
You hum lightly having already known this. Dick got chatty when he was stressed.
“A few days after that Red Hood and I got in an altercation wherein he unmasked and gave me his blood and fingerprints. Both that I then tested…”
Behind your mask you squint, breath rushing out of you as another possibility you hadn’t dared to let yourself think comes to mind. Grief’s most dangerous wish. You start shaking your head. It's a useless attempt to not let the pieces come together.
“The results matched that of Jason Todd’s,” there’s a moment of brief wrenching stillness before he adds quieter, as if his veneer of control has suddenly been punched out of him. “Our Jason….”
…TBC
NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! Comments would be appreciated if you wanted to leave one! I read all of them, I only don’t respond cause this is a side blog.
P.S.: It’s gonna come off like I hate Bruce in the later chapters (only sometimes irl) so yeah. Apparently I’m just getting out some general Bruce frustrations with this, so fair warning. This is not a happy ending for his ass.
#bruce wayne#batman#black!reader#black y/n#black!batmom#•long overdue (the series)#bruce wayne x black!reader#batman x black!reader#batman x batmom#divorced!batmom#bruce wayne imagine#batman imagine#batmom & jason todd#batmom x jason todd#batfamily x batmom#batfamily imagine#batfamily x black!reader#batfamily x reader#batmom angst#bruce wayne angst#batman angst#batmom!reader
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trial and error | Miguel O'Hara
you hate your life as spider-woman. you hate how demanding it is—yet, a chance meeting with three others who understand sets you on the path to redemption from pain—but a certain Head of the Spider Society seems bent on making sure you know just how much he hates you.
pairing: miguel-o'hara x f!spider-reader
warnings: sfw, angst, enemies-to-lovers, eventual fluff, mean Miguel, etc
word count: 3.2k
note: first time posting something! this man has been plaguing my mind ever since I saw the movie in theatres, so here we are.
this is likely the first part of a series, so let me know if you want part 2! tysm for reading <3
! not proof read
! do not copy, redistribute, translate, or use my work with or without credit in any way. thank you.
part one ⋮ masterlist ⋮ part two
...
You hate your job.
You hate your powers.
You hate the duty that was forced upon you the moment that damned spider bit you.
And you hate being Spider-Woman. You can’t stand how slack the police have now become ever since you stepped into the picture. It’s as if they just kicked off their shoes, put their feet up, leaned back and just watched you clean up all these messes while they shoved doughnut after doughnut into their potbellies without a care in the world.
Except for Captain Stacy. He was a real one.
Until he got crushed by some fallen rubble after saving a kid.
You now stand at the foot of his grave, staring at the gleaming, polished, fresh marble of his headstone. At the neatly scripted words Captain George Stacy, beloved officer and hero that mars the face of the monument. At the solid reminder of how the only person you ever trusted is now six feet under.
Captain Stacy was the only soul who knew your real identity. A real father figure to you—one you haven’t had since your poor excuse of a dad took off with some millionaire’s daughter when you were seven. You hadn’t seen the guy since.
Not that you really care. You can’t remember his face now. Probably a good thing.
You don’t bother buying flowers for Captain Stacy. Why must you always have flowers to pay your respects? There’s already a mountain of bouquets, real and fake, piled up against his gravestone. Almost blocking out the text on the obelisk. Just standing there silently, bearing with the icy late-winter wind, hands shoved in your pockets, hair messily pulled up into a hairclaw would be enough. Captain Stacy wouldn’t mind.
Captain Stacy didn’t have a cliché death. He didn’t go out with a bang or a whisper. He just died in your arms, blood streaming down the side of his face, your tears soaking the inside of your mask, his eyes full of tranquillity as the light faded. As he breathed his last.
Captain Stacy died with no regrets—and yet, you are full of so many.
There’s so much you want to say, so much you want answers to. You aren’t going to question, why did you do that? because it was a toddler, and you would’ve done the same.
That’s the job, isn’t it? Even though you never signed up for it.
But Captain Stacy would actually have to be alive to answer your questions. Questions on the tip of your tongue right now, your drawn-out lips, pressed together tightly, acting as a dam towards the onslaught of whats and hows and whens and whys just itching to burst forth.
But you hold yourself back. You’re Spider-Woman—you have to lock it all away to make sure everyone thinks everything’s all right.
It’s not, and it never has been. You have no one to relate to—not even Captain Stacy understood, but you pretended he did.
You fed yourself lies, and you eventually believed them. Not so much anymore. Reality’s a bitterly cold shower that really hits hard.
Behind your spider-mask lies a not-so-young woman anymore. Almost thirty, you’ve had your fair share of trials and tribulations over the past fourteen years. The past ones were incomparable to this one. You had no one to rely on anymore.
So you went MIA.
The public knew that you and Captain Stacy were good friends. He was your mentor, your adviser, your go-to-guy, your right-hand-man. And all the news reports went on about how tragic his death was, and how hard a hit it must’ve been for you. Memorials and condolences were everywhere—online, particularly your fanpage, and YouTube videos went viral for their consideration of your feelings to the death of such a great man.
You decided to take a break.
You shut off your phone, your laptop, your TV—everything. You couldn’t bear to see anymore reminders of your surrogate father’s face. He had a daughter, Gwen Stacy, but she’s only little. You expressed your empathy for his wife and the heartbreak she must be going through, and she cried, making you feel even worse, and the kindly woman handed you a tin box full of an assortment of homemade brownies, cookies and personal favourites of Captain Stacy.
That was three days ago. You haven’t touched the tin. It’s just sitting on your kitchen counter, unopened.
You brush some flyaway hairs from your eyes, the chilly wind drifting by, and even with the heavy puffer jacket on your shoulders, the cold breeze still nips down your spine.
You look up. On some tall building is a billboard, Captain Stacy’s face plastered over it, the bold words You Will Be Missed written under it. Then it flickers over to a picture of you, your suited and masked figure in your signature royal purple suit with gold as the colour of the spider-web design over your bodice, black knee-high boots and elbow-high gloves, and your purple mask. Equally bold words line the poster beneath your face, Where is Spider-Woman? letting you know of just how long you’ve been AWOL for.
You drop your eyes to your shoes, turning away and walking out of the graveyard.
You hate your life.
You puff out a breath, the winter air turning it to a visible white in front of your face. You’d go home, but the suffocating quietude of your apartment, caused by your brooding, would not help to clear your head.
Usually, you’d jump around the city as Spider-Woman to blow off steam, but putting on the suit and mask right now is the last thing you need.
Usually, you’d have the suit under your clothes, your mask stuffed into the inner pocket of your coat or bag, easy to access when needed.
You haven’t put the suit or mask on under your clothes in two weeks. And that isn’t going to change any time soon.
The police would just have to handle bank robberies and other petty crimes for now. You deserve a break from being a hero.
You never wanted to be one in the first place.
You’d have to come back sooner or later, but for now, you just need space to breathe. To live. To grieve in peace.
To wallow in self-pity for a while. Because under that mask is a human being. A mutant human being, sure—one with spider-powers, but you still feel things. You have a brain, you have a heart—and both are currently aching deeply.
I need to get out of here.
But where could you go? Home? What does that word even mean anymore? You just lost your only family.
Sighing wearily, you turn and head for the cinema. Might as well watch a movie. You can’t exactly afford it, considering how, even at thirty-years-old, you’re still working minimum wage.
If you hadn’t gotten bitten by that spider, you’d have gone to Princeton. You had gotten the acceptance letter just before you graduated high school, but spider duties trashed that dream.
Another thing you hate about your powers. It’s ruined everything for me.
You wish you could just quit. As if on cue to your depressive thoughts, the radio you keep on your person crackled to life, the voice of a police officer filtering through its speakers.
You dip into an alleyway before the people milling around you could hear the sounds.
“—Got some dude with a fish bowl on his head flying around and spouting green smoke.” You listen to the officer, curious. You don’t plan on going out there and helping, but if they’re a serious threat, you’d then have no choice. Suddenly, the officer cusses. “What the hell—the guy’s glitching? Looks like something out of a comic—”
The radio cuts off with static, and you immediately make your decision. Grumbling under your breath, you dart out of the alleyway and rush off for your apartment complex, which is nearby. Once inside, you hit the sixth floor button in the elevator and throw on your suit when you get to your apartment. Slipping on your mask and making sure your web shooters have plenty of web fluid at the ready, you sneak out of your apartment and exit from the window at the end of the hall.
The radio decides to crackle back to life at that moment. You wrench it to your ear to listen, using your free hand to swing you around speedily.
“This is getting out of hand, man,” says the officer from before. “Any sign of Spider-Woman?”
Someone else then answers. “Nope. She has a radio, though—so, if you’re listening, missy, this weirdass villain is currently terrorising Maria Hernandez Park.”
“Gotcha,” you mutter under your breath in response, more or less to yourself, before changing direction and swinging north.
You soon arrive at said location, observing the quiet air. Too quiet. Furrowing your brows, you glance around, eyes sharp and alert and not missing a thing.
Suddenly, a tree began to enlarge.
“Woah—!” You leap out of the way as you sense something flying in your direction, before the world around you is all warped and twisted, leaving you terribly disoriented.
Shaking your head and blinking, you can’t seem to clear your mind and get a grip—everything is fuzzy and swirling around. Nausea settles within your gut, along with the almost painful tingling of your Spidey Senses. Something is very wrong.
“Are you Peter Parker? Why am I in New York?” A gravelly voice speaks up to your right, and you whirl around, muscle memory kicking in as you settle into a fighting stance.
Hovering above you is a man in an armoured suit with a red cape flying out behind him and—as the officer had put it—what looks like a fish bowl is encompassing his face, the inside foggy. You are unable to make out any facial features, just a disembodied voice laced with confusion and bitterness. Immediately, you got a deep premonition; that this person is not from here.
“Who’s Peter Parker?” You question, eyeing him warily. “And who are you?”
“You’re not Spider-Man.” The man does not answer your questions. “You’re some fake. Either way, you’ll do for now.”
“What do you me—” You are cut off by that feeling of disorientation and something messing with your head; the world around you becomes all warped once again, your brain muddled and eyesight all fuzzy. One of your hands flies to clutch your head, eyes squeezing shut.
“Argh—stop it!” You feel like you’re about to throw up. You back up, before your stomach lurches with the feeling of freefalling. Frantic, you unleash a web, trying to latch onto something—anything, black ants scuttling around the edges of your vision.
Something bright and colourful flashes, and the distinctive sound of a motorbike roars from somewhere above. The sensation of warm, strong arms wrap around you, and suddenly you’re flying for somewhere—but not the ground.
The person holding you lands, and your eyes fly open, looking up into the masked face of a man clad in a pink fluffy bathrobe and an empty baby sling clipped to his front. His mask is red and blue, his eyes two large circles coloured white and lined with black. They blink, perfectly in sync with his eyes movement—much like yours. “Hey, there.”
You blink also. “Hey.”
He sets you down gently, helping you to your feet. The world around you is normal again. Bathrobe man gives your shoulder a friendly pat. “Give us a moment—we’ll deal with Mysterio and then we’ll talk, okay?”
“Uh, okay.” You don’t really know what else to say; everything is so surreal. He turns away before something white and familiar shoots out of his wrist—exactly like you. You gawk as he tugs and it pulls him into the air.
The rumble of a motorcycle echoes again, and you whip your head around to see a woman with yellow goggles sitting atop a—you guessed it—motorbike, that same white substance shooting out of her fingertips.
Bathrobe Man and Motorcycle Lady leap and bound around, Fish Bowl Head darting out of the way of their attacks before that bright and colourful thing appears in the sky again.
Something red and glowing shoots out and wraps around Fish Bowl Head, stopping him in his tracks immediately.
Bathrobe Man immediately whoops at the sight, still swinging around freely. “About time, Miguel!” At his words, another figure leaps out of the circular, colourful object in the sky. Is that a portal?
Bathrobe Guy continues cheerfully. “What was the hold up? You’re, like, twenty seconds late.”
The figure lands on the ground with a smooth roll, bringing down Fish Bowl Head with him. He is very tall, and extremely muscular. His suit is mostly blue, but streaks of blood-red line it and almost seem to glow. Those same streaks outline his eyes, which narrow menacingly as he turns his head in Bathrobe Dude’s direction. Said man lands lightly next to him, throwing some spiky-looking thing on the ground, which immediately encloses Fish Bowl Head in some kind of glowing-red-web-trap-thing, identical to the same stuff the guy wrapped the villain in as he jumped from the portal. Bathrobe Man seems undeterred and unintimidated by the taller man’s threatening glower. “Not in the mood for jokes, Peter.”
Fish Bowl Head immediately pounds his fists against the material that traps him, yelling, “Peter! Let me out and fight me like a man! I’ll destroy you—everything you live for, I swear vengeance on you—”
“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Bathrobe Guy sighs wearily, before turning to the super tall dude again. “Anyway, Miguel, we’ve got a real confused Spider-Woman over here. Should we, uh…?”
“Let me,” Motorcycle Lady finally speaks up, her motorbike now cruising along on the ground like a normal person, not swinging about midair. She comes to stop in front of you, the engine resounding softly. “Hey.” She smiles, holding out a gloved hand. “I’m Spider-Woman.”
You take in her appearance—she’s black, with glossy, curly hair piled up on her head with those cool yellow goggles, and you can actually see her eyes, unlike the other two. They’re a deep coffee brown and twinkle with friendliness. You slowly take her hand, still staring, as she pumps it up and down in a cordial shake. “Pretty crazy, huh?”
“Hold on—I’m Spider-Woman.” Before you can think, you’re frowning in confusion, forgetting to greet her back. “How…?”
Her kind smile doesn’t waver. Almost as if she’s heard the same thing plenty of times before. “Yeah, it’s a bit confusing at first. However, everything’ll make sense if you come back with us to HQ.”
“Jess.” That red-web guy approaches the two of you, and you’re immediately intimidated. You stand at a tall five-foot-nine, but this man absolutely dwarfs you. He pins his stare on you for a second, and you can feel the intensity despite his eyes being obscured from view behind a mask. He looks at Motorcycle Lady again. “I decide if she comes back to HQ.”
You are utterly lost. “I’m really sorry, but I’m confused. Who are all of you guys?”
“The name’s Spider-Man.” Bathrobe Dude saunters over, tone chipper. “Nice to meet you.”
The really tall one sighs somewhat wearily. “And I am, too—but, more specifically, Spider-Man 2099.”
“Okay, okay, that doesn’t help.” You shake your head, as if trying to clear your mind. “You’re all…like me?”
“We are.” Motorcycle Lady smiles. “We were all bitten by a radioactive spider, became Spider-Man or Spider-Woman or something else and now protect our home, New York.”
You blink. “But…there are more of you? Okay, well, I’m Spider-Woman, but to avoid confusion, my name’s Y/n.”
“We know who you are.” Is the cold reply from Spider-Man 2099. You’re taken aback, blinking in offence to his borderline rude tone. He turns his back on the three of you, tapping at a watch on his left wrist. That huge colourful portal-thing appears before you again. “Let’s go, guys.” He stoops down and heaves up Fish Bowl Head and throws him into the portal, all in one fluid motion. As if the villain weighed nothing. He turns to glance back. “And…” you feel him look at you too. He sighs. “You, too, I guess.”
“Wait—I never said I wanted to come along.” You cross your arms. “I have no idea who any of you are, and for all I know, you could be some strange organisation luring in Spider-People and…” You let your sentence hang, the insinuation clear. Spider-Man 2099 stands in front of the portal, back to you, no longer looking at you three and silent, listening. Bathrobe Man and Motorcycle Lady look at you with understanding in their eyes. You hate it—it feels as if they're pitying you. “Besides, I’m going through a rough patch right now, and putting down the mask is what I need most right now. I’m sorry.”
They stay silent. It frustrates you. “And…thank you for the help with that fish bowl guy.”
Bathrobe Guy laughs. “Haha! ‘Fish bowl guy’. I love that.”
Motorcycle Lady turns her eyes to him, her stare stern. “Not the time, Peter.”
He ahems and falls silent, solemn once more.
You can’t help but feel a tad bit amused at this particular guy’s personality. Not hard to get along with, he seems, but you still have no intentions of heading back with them to ‘HQ’, as the motorbike lady put it. Even if you have that gut feeling that they mean no harm, that they’re the good guys—it doesn’t take away the fact that you just want a break from all of this. From being Spider-Woman.
You want to be normal again. But you know that’s too much to ask for.
“I understand your concerns.” Spider-Man 2099 finally says, voice holding no emotion whatsoever. “You don’t have to accompany us. However.” He faces you, fists closed at his sides. Once again, you can feel just how piercing his stare is. “This responsibility we have…we can’t just take a break from it.” You tense slightly at his tone and words. Dislike floods you. He lowers his head slightly, as if conceding to your views. “It’s my life, their life, your life. All of our lives. I don’t usually do this, but I think you’d understand better if you came back with us.”
You don’t like his countenance. Nor his tone. It’s apathetic. He says nothing more, and steps inside the portal, disappearing.
Bathrobe Guy sighs, shaking his head. “Please, don’t take his words to heart. He doesn’t know how to comfort people.” You get the feeling that he’s giving you an empathetic smile behind his mask. At least this guy’s approachable and unimposing. “But, he’s right, as much as I hate to admit. You’ll be in a great environment. Because we all understand how you feel.”
Bathrobe Guy gives a light, friendly punch to your shoulder. “Well, it’s up to you now.” He turns to Motorcycle Lady. “I promised MJ that I’d take care of Mayday this afternoon, so I’ll be off.”
Soon, he disappears into the same portal Spider-Man 2099 did. Leaving you with the woman.
She sighs and gives you a look. “So…you wanna come, or…?”
“I’ll…think about it.” You answer; however, you know your ultimate answer will be no. You don’t want to bear this burden any more.
But there are others. Your more rational side rebuts. There are more. You’ll finally have someone who understands you.
You look at Spider-Woman. And she stares back with a clear-eyed, firm look. As if she knows.
Her lips turn up into a smile. “See you on the other side.”
…
part 2
Tags:
@autismsupermusicalassassin @klqwnlol @thel0velykey190 @lauraolar14
© jqnehr 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate, repost/redistribute and plagarise any of my works.
#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel spiderman#miguel spiderverse#miguel o'hara x y/n#across the spiderverse#spiderman 2099#peter b#astv#2099#miguel ohara#miguel x reader
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Slashers with a Pierced & Tatted S/O (GN) 🔪
Warning/Description: Mentions of tattoos, piercings and needles. Some suggestive elements but is SFW.
Includes the following Slashers: Jesse Cromeans, Asa Emory, Thomas Hewitt, and Brahms Heelshire.
**SFW but there are allusions to sex**
Thomas Hewitt
This man is going to love you no matter what you look like; you could have green skin, yellow fangs and scales, and this man would still treat you like a porcelain doll.
Now, if you have piercings, I could see him gently touching them and kissing them, regardless as to where they are. I also picture him as someone removing the jewelry from their victims, cleaning them, and gifting them to you (who said romance was dead!).
With tattoos, he’s not too familiar with them, seeing how no one in the family has them, and they aren’t that common in his small town.
Will be curious and trace them, completely enraptured with the way the ink is placed underneath the skin.
If you want new ones, he will draw some on your body, trying his best to make everything cohesive, and he won’t stop until it’s perfect.
Please return the favor by copying some of your tattoos onto him, and whisper sweet words to him while you do it. Tommy will melt and not be able to function correctly for at least two days.
Expect teasing from the Sheriff, but don’t worry, Luda May will smack him upside the head.
Brahms Heelshire
If you got hired, chances are you hid your tattoos and piercings from his parents. When he first sees them, he nearly has a heart attack and has to do a double take.
His parents are incredibly formal, and since he’s our resident wall hermit, he has never seen body modification like this. He has heard about them from his parents (along with the general stereotypes that come with them), so he’s immediately planning on ways to get rid of you.
Now, if you follow the rules and treat the doll and house with respect, then he will become curious and put a pause on those dubious plans.
When you’re sleeping, he will climb out of the walls and curiously, albeit, cautiously touch your tattoos (poor boy thinks that if he touches them, then he will get them, like, a virus of some sorts).
I can also see him trying to rub them off when you’re sleeping and getting huffy when they don’t come off.
Finds your piercings strange, but beautiful.
Will go feral if you have nipple piercings, regardless of your gender.
Congrats, you complex and infuriating human, you have officially caught this wall hermit’s attention, making him determined on keeping you to himself.
Also, after he reveals himself to you, be prepared for an onslaught of questions.
Did they hurt? What do they mean? Why did you get them? How do you get them? And so on and so forth.
Asa Emory
His reaction is going to depend entirely on how you meet him; did you meet him as Asa or the Collector?
If you meet him as Asa, this is how I imagine him acting...
1.) He loves your piercings and decides to become your new piercer, no ands ifs or buts.
He finds piercing you to be strangely arousing...something about the needle, your complete trust in him, and the momentary look of pain on your face. It’s *chef’s kiss*.
2.) Might be taken back at first with your tattoos, and he will judge you depending on what they are about. But he finds your willingness to be stabbed by numerous needles at the same time for an x-amounted time to be impressive. If you have any bug themed tattoos, be prepared to have your work critiqued and a mini lesson on said bug.
“Did you know that Luna Moths have no mouths, giving them a lifespan of around seven days. During that time, all they do is mate....”
“The wings of your dragonfly are incorrect; the hind wings are broader, not the same size as the forward wings. And another thing...” You get the picture.
Now, if you've meet him as The Collector...
If you are part of his collection, I can picture him trying to remove your tattoos as an experiment/challenge of sorts. I can also see him piercing your body in hopes to see what the human body can withstand.
So, if you don't want that, than you better capture this man's attention and fast.
Jesse Cromeans
I HC Jesse to have multiple tattoos; we already know that he has the skull and knives tattoo on his chest, so it makes me think that his arms are covered in ink, and possibly his back.
Seriously, can we just imagine that? I picture his arms to be full sleeves, one with angels and the other with demons. Now, his back is covered with a large mural of skeletons, perhaps the biggest one being the Grim Reaper (BRB, drooling).
Loves your tattoos and is fond of tracing them.
If you got the same tattoo as him, the Chromeskull brand one, he would die and go to heaven. You have also inflated his ego by ten-fold.
Congrats, you have left Jesse speechless, but don’t worry, he is quick to recover and carry you to bed. There, he will show you just how much he appreciates your newest ink.
Finds piercings sexy and will spoil you by buying pure gold and platinum jewelry studded with the most expensive gems he can find (diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, etc...)
I also HC that if you get a matching tattoo with him, he would come home from work with a piercing that matches yours, jewelry and everything,
Will encourage you to get more piercings and tattoos:
‘Hey, Y/N, have you thought about getting a tongue piercing? It would look amazing on you.’ 😉
‘That tattoo artist you follow on Insta is visiting a shop a few states over. I ended up booking them the entire day for you.’
#jesse cromeans x reader#jesse cromeans#thomas hewitt x reader#thomas hewitt#asa emory x reader#asa emory#slasher x reader#slasher headcanons
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Randomized Robins, names and character work
I figured out what I want everybody's superhero name to be and wrote out their explanations for why they chose their names to try to figure out how I want to write them going forward.
Steph (Spoiler, then Clue): I named myself Spoiler because I was going out to Spoil all my dad’s plans! And now I’ve named myself Clue, because after my father’s death I want the chance to turn his name into something good. Plus I’ve changed my goals for why I’m doing this whole vigilante thing. Instead of being someone who ‘spoils’ the plans of villains, I want to help people and show them the true way the world can be. It’s not enough to just stop the bad guys anymore, I want to protect people who can’t protect themselves or just need a push in the right direction.
Tim (Spoiler, then Paradox): After I was brought back, everything about me felt wrong. I was Tim, yet I had another ‘self’ crudely shoved in me…literally. I was supposed to be dead, yet I was alive. I was supposed to be a ‘good guy’, yet all I could feel was an onslaught of awful emotions (not to mention that I broke Bruce’s rule, I’m a murderer now). I was supposed to be Jack’s kid, yet whenever I pictured ‘dad’ two people who weren’t him came to mind. I was Bruce’s son and Steph’s boyfriend and Cass’s friend, yet they left me with him for so long…and I suppose I betrayed them back. I had friends who could literally hear my goddamn heartbeat and protect me from bullets and race to me from across the world, yet when I screamed until my voice was raw begging for them to help or free me from that hell or to kill me and get it over with they never showed up. *Sigh* So yeah, I was basically a walking contradiction. But Pierrot and I needed to agree. And he thought ‘contra’ was both too basic and that nobody would get it. So we compromised and now we’re Paradox.
Pierrot (He’s just Pierrot): Ok, so I got to name MYSELF! Which is AWESOME but also a lot of pressure. I mean, I started existing 2 weeks ago and now Ra’s was asking me for a name?! Like, I just spawned, can I have a bit longer before I have to make a lifelong commitment? But he was an efficient man and wanted to initiate Tim and I into the League and he couldn’t do that if I didn’t have a name. I had 3 hours. So, I went to Talia. She had just had a kid and she named him, maybe she could name me! She wouldn’t do that, but she did give me a baby book. It was useless and I hated all of those names. I was down to the last hour when Tim suggested that I just take his middle name, which is JACKSON! And I thought, “Like I’m gonna name myself after his dad!” But then it got me thinking…what if I name myself after my dad?! The Joker TECHNICALLY wasn’t my dad, but he did make the chip and the chip made me! So I had it! I would name myself ‘Jack’ and trick Tim into thinking I did it based on his advice! The perfect plan.
….Then once we left the league I decided that I hate my dad and also his name. So I changed my name to Pierrot. It fits into my whole ‘tragic clown’ bit and I like how it has the name first letter and amount of syllables that our ‘vigilante’ name has. Plus it makes me sound sophisticated!
…….Ok fine I also like Hatsune Miku and she had a song about a puppet clown named Pierrot and I went ‘hey I like this song! yoink’. Plus there’s also another Vocaloid song about a kid named Pierrot who kills people at the behest of their parental figure and like…hello?? That’s literally our whole thing. I thought that it would be a fun if I could use that as a reason to code Vocaloid sound-banks into the mask so I could sound like Miku whenever I felt like it. Tim is still vetoing that idea. But I think the idea of getting chased by Batsy and singing ’The Disappearance of Hatsune Miku’ while he overanalyzes the lyrics of what we’re singing and guilts himself even more would be SUPER FUNNY. It’d probably mess him up for WEEKS! I mean, we have the voice modulator and it can speed our voice up, why not use it for something besides sending coded messages to Bart!
Dick (Spoiler, then Twist): I really don’t think that Bruce wanted any more kids. It’d been a few years since Tim died and everybody could tell that Bruce Wayne was a mess afterwards. The only times he really went out were for official appearances and to go places with Cass. He hadn’t made any new friends or even kept up with his old ones, everybody thought that any chance he had at moving on was caput. So when he adopted me after my parents died, I think even he was surprised. And I just kept surprising people, first by finding out about Batman and then by becoming Spoiler and then by being really good at it! So I guess my name kinda reflects that. It’s a way to remember my parents too. Some of my best memories of them were of us flying in the sky and having fun, twisting up and around in the air.
Damian (Spoiler, then Hoax): When I first arrived, everybody figured that I was some ploy my grandfather had dragged my mother into. In reality she was trying to get me away from the mess that was the league, but they were all paranoid enough to run plenty of tests. To the surprise of everyone except me, and Paradox perhaps, I was as real as they come. But this did not mean they trusted me. In their defense, I probably would not have trusted me either. Mother had hidden a lot from Father, for good reasons but these were still betrayals, and everybody was already on edge after Timothy’s return. The mantle of Spoiler was withheld from me until I stole the costume and went out on my own. But everybody could tell I wasn’t quite like the other Spoilers, I was too good for a kid just starting out and far more brutal than any Spoiler ought to be. Thus, I was dubbed the ‘fake Spoiler’ until Father finally let me join him officially. My name spawned from these memories and the emotions that came along with them. And after Dr. Thompkins helped me with my ‘death’, it only became more relevant.
Jason (He’s Spoiler! So what does the name Spoiler mean to him?): Steph picked a really funny name in retrospect. I mean, the phrase ‘No Spoilers’ took on a whole new meaning in Crime Alley after she started showing up! I’d be asking people not to tell me the endings of books and they’d think I was doing some funny business that I didn’t want the capes showing up to. We got more used to Spoiler over time and most of us kids actually started liking her. It was probably because she seemed…like us. She was a normal person, not some looming rich jerk like Batman. She could relate to us when we talked about our parents and gave us advice that came from experience, not a guy repeating the same canned advice we could find on the internet. Our feelings about the Spoilers changed depending on who had the mantle, but we always trusted Spoiler to help us out without also ruining our lives. They were kids and they understood us. So…I guess to me Spoiler is someone who understands people when Batman can’t. They’re a symbol that we can all make a difference in somebody’s life, we don’t have to be some meta-human or really rich to do what we can to help each other. …I really hope that I can live up to that.
#RandomizedRobinsAU#stephanie brown#tim drake#pierrot#ok so you know how the Joker put a weird chip in Tim in ROTJ? yeah this is that chip given life and character development#it's more of a Venom situation than a Two-Face one. Pierrot isn't Tim's alter - he's literally the result of weird Cadmus DNA tech#being dunked in the Lazarus Pit along with a dead body that it is attached to.#Dick Grayson#Damian al ghul#damian wayne#Jason Todd#I'm making some good progress on this AU. I've gotta make a timeline which is annoying but I think I've got every character in an ok place#batfamily#I've officially decided that I'm gonna be pairing up the non-robins with their robin counterpart
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Party of Three
Request: Reader is maverick's sister and is dating iceman, finds out she's pregnant.
@sebastianstangirl01
Pairing: Iceman x Reader (afab)
Tag list is open!
Requests are open!
Warnings: Some angst, some fluff, one punch. ( i did not proof read, bc it's midnight )
a/n: In true gen-z fashion I cannot write a fic without the use of cell phones so, were going with it. Everything else is pretty cannon i think.
You've been feeling off for almost three weeks before you realize you haven't had your period for 2 months. Your heart hasn't stopped racing since you came the realization of what that probably means.
Rushing to the store at a prompt 8:46 this morning to get pregnancy tests. You haven't been able to work up the nerve to actually take said tests. Anxiously biting your lips, even though they are already tender and you taste the tang of blood.
Sighing you look at the clock, and seeing it is 4:00 and you've wasted the entire day looking at the damn tests on your coffee table you stand. Finally grabbing the box you march to the bathroom in what you hope is confidence but you know is really just fear and mental exhaustion.
You've spent all day running through every possible situation that could come from this. No matter what your older brother is going to be pissed. You groan as you think about what he's going to say to you. Not ready for the onslaught of being told you are irresponsible and how could you be so reckless.
Opening the boxes to gather the tests out you have shaky hands and almost drop the pregnancy tests. It takes another ten minutes to actually build up the courage to sit down to take the tests.
Within a minute you have three tests sitting on the counter. You turn on your phone timer to 5 minutes, and god you'd rather plank for five minutes straight than wait for this. You sit on the ground, back to the cabinets that are holding your entire future on top of it.
Your leg is shaking as you anxiously wait for the results. Glancing down at your phone every 3 seconds feeling like it's been 30. When the timer finally does go off, you've never stood up so fast. Legs feeling like jello, and your palms are sweaty.
Swallowing hard you pick up the first test. Looking down to see a plus sign your heart stops. Quickly glancing at the other two you see they are also plus signs.
You can't take it anymore and your nerves are shot. Rushing to the toilet you let out all the contents from the sandwich you forced yourself to eat earlier.
Hearing your phone buzz on the counter you stand, leaning against the counter as you read the message.
My love: Hey sweetheart, we're all gonna go to the bar tonight, want me to swing by and pick you up.
It takes you a solid two minutes to come up with a halfway decent reply, hoping it sounds like you in any way.
You: I'm actually not feeling too hot, just a headache so don't worry about me go have fun :)
It doesn't take him more than 10 seconds to call.
"Do you need anything?" He doesn't even bother with a hello when he hears you pick up the phone. You try to control the shaky in your voice when you answer.
"No-no that's okay, I'm just gonna take some tylenol and try and sleep." You can picture him furrowing his brow, because usually you love cuddles when you aren't feeling well and you never say no to take out and icecream when you have a headache either.
"Babe are you sure? I can go to your favorite Chinese food and grab some ben and jerry's?"
"yea I'm sure, I just really feel tired, So go enjoy your time with the boys" You feel so bad lying to him, knowing he's got that confused look in his eyes and he's probably running a hand through his blond hair. Almost like if he does it enough he will solve whatever problem is wracking his brain.
"alright... but you'll call if you need anything right?" You hate yourself for the sad tone to his voice.
"Of course babe" you cringe because you know this whole conversation is a train wreck attempt at acting normal. You quickly say your goodbyes and love you's before hanging up. You call the only other person you know you can trust with this.
"Mav... I need you"
And thank god for Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell, because he's outside of your place in less than 30 minutes. You do feel bad because he picks up your favorite Chinese food on his way over. An offer you just ignored from the man you swear is the love of your life.
"Oh mini Mitchell, what's got you all out of wack" is the first thing your brother says to you. The look on your face must say it all, because he is wrapping you in a hug without you even saying a word.
You called Mav for a reason, knowing he would give you the time you needed to get whatever is on your mind sorted before speaking. He's making idle chit chat about his day, knowing both of you aren't here to hear or talk about Mav and his dare devil ways. However, he does know that you aren't ready to tell him why you called him over so he's dishing out the food and distracting his sister the best way he knows how.
It takes two and a half hours before you blurt out your thoughts. Anxiety running rampant in your mind and seeping into your tone.
"Mav...I'm Pregnant" It can't be more than a whisper but you know he hears you because he freezes mid reach for popcorn. It feels like a lifetime could go by in the time you are waiting for maverick to reply.
"mav... please say something" You're desperate, needing to know that maverick will support you in this.
"I don't know what to say" You can tell his answer is honest, and you can't really fault him for being shocked and stumped for words, because if you're being honest so are you.
"Please just be here for me...I can't do this on my own"
"you will never do anything alone" his blue eyes pierce into you as he says this, and you are so thankful to have a brother as loyal as maverick.
With the small weight of maverick knowing and knowing you won't be in this alone, no matter what Tom says, you feel like you can breathe slightly lighter now. Your brother is a man of few words in this moment though, and you let him, because you don't really have anything else to add either.
He reaches over and hugs you, and it's then you feel the exhaustion of such an emotionally grueling day hit you. You don't have it in you to stay up to face Tom when he gets home, knowing he prefers to sleep here instead of on base on weekends.
______
Maverick might not have said it to you, but boy oh boy was he pissed. First Kazansky had the nerve to date his little sister, now he's gotten you pregnant?!
After he made sure you had everything you needed and went to bed, he headed directly to the bar he was counting on Iceman being at. He keeps rehearing the phrase "I can't do this on my own" in your scared voice bounce around his head. Clenching his jaw, rage runs through him at the thought of Tom thinking he could just get you pregnant and leave you out to dry.
He whips his bike into a parking stall, seeing none other than Ice's car parked in the third stall over. He's seeing nothing but red as he makes his way into the crowded bar. Eyes searching for one person only.
Goose see's maverick walk in, brow furrowing as the brunette brushes right past him, anger radiating off of him in thick waves.
"KAZANSKY" is shouted as soon as Maverick lands eyes on him. It takes not two seconds for him to be within grasp and Maverick doesn't hesitate to send a brutal punch to the blond pilots eye.
"Maverick what the hell!" Tom reaches for his eye, confused as to why he's standing in searing pain when sure he and Mav have always had somewhat of a turbulent friendship but things had been sailing smoothly for a while now, since he started dating you.
"DON'T WHAT THE HELL ME, YOU THINK YOU CAN GET MY SISTER PREGNANT AND BAIL AND I WONT KICK YOUR ASS" and has never been more confused because... well what the fuck?
"Maverick what the fuck are you talking about?"
"Don't fucking play dumb with me!" and goose the level headed one-- an odd thing to say about the usual goofball, steps between the two.
"Mav... can you explain what's going on" and if it were anyone other than goose who was asking they probably would have been punched too.
"This fucking asshole got my little sister pregnant, now she's sitting at home terrified because he left her to do it alone!" and goose has to physically hold maverick to keep him for going in for another strike.
"She's pregnant?" and it's like a bucket of ice cold water gets dumped over the trio. Tom's head is spinning. Why didn't you tell him? He's gonna be a dad? Wait why did you think you were going to do it alone? Man his eye still hurts.
Maverick has immediate guilt wash over him, he didn't know you hadn't told tom yet, and maybe he shouldn't have punched the guy and caused and scene out in public before he knew the whole story. Maverick has always been an act first think later sort of person and usually it works out, but this time his gut is telling him he's not gonna be so lucky.
"You-you didn't know" and it's not a question, it's a statement. Iceman just shakes his head, shouldering his way out of the bar. Easy to ignore the throbbing of his eye when his heart feels like it might shatter.
_____
You wake up the next morning feeling slightly better about the situation than you did yesterday. Finding it weird when you don't see tom in bed next to you. Yawning you figure maybe he got too tipsy at the bar last night and had to get a ride with someone else, leading him to stay on base.
You slowly make your way into the living room, scanning the mess on the coffee table from your's and Mavericks movie escapades. Telling yourself you'll clean that up later you walk into the kitchen. Gasping at what you see, or rather who you see at the kitchen island.
"Honey what happened to your face!" you reach out to touch his cheek and feel a stinging in your chest when he moves away.
"Were you going to tell me" Your heart freezes at his words.
"t-tell you what" and you hate the stutter to your voice, feeling like you might explode from fear.
"You know what" is his cold reply.
"How did you find out" your voice is so quiet, and you can feel a tear leave the corner of your eye. He won't even look at you. This is exactly what you were afraid of, you two had never talked about kids, and god if he were anything like your brother then he didn't want them.
"Your brother told me, gave me this shiner too" and there's such a dead tone to his voice that it has you scared. He never sounds this monotone to you, so much like he just doesn't care.
"I-I...." and your voice catches on sobs in your throat.
"I'm sorry" it finally makes it's way out of your mouth, combined with an ugly sob. He finally looks up at you, and you see his swollen eye for all it's glory.
"For what exactly, sending your brother after me or--" and you cut him off.
"for getting pregnant... I know you don't want this, so it's okay if you go..." and you are whispering, any louder and you might break in half. You can't bear the thought of losing the one man you've ever really loved, but you don't want him to feel trapped to you and this baby.
You see his brow furrow, and you think here we go, he's trying to figure out how to tell you he doesn't want you or this baby, and to leave him alone.
"what makes you think I don't want this" You don't even have to think about your response.
"because you're a pilot, you don't want to be held back"
"I am not Maverick." You glance up at him, to see him now standing in front of you, just out of arms reach.
"Darling, all I've ever wanted was a future with you, and here you are carrying ours and thinking I don't want it?" Your breath hitches at his words, speechless as he moves closer, resting his hand on your non existent bump.
"I'm gonna be a dad" it's nothing but a whisper and maybe you aren't even supposed to hear it, but it makes you cry harder. All the anxiety of him not wanting this washes away in an instant.
He looks up, quickly bringing his hands to your face, wiping your tears off your face as best he can with how quick they are leaving your eyes. Softly he places his lips against yours, it's every bit reassuring as any words he's going to say to you.
"Sweetheart, I hate that you didn't trust me to come to me with this, but I'm not going anywhere, You are carrying our baby and you're my future wife. There's nothing that could keep me away from you" It sends fresh tears down your cheeks and you can't help but laugh.
"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you first, and I'm so sorry maverick gave you that awful black eye. I was just- I was so scared that you wouldn't want us." He glances down at your stomach, full smile on his face.
"I'd take a black eye for you any day love, just give me a chance next time please?"
_____
You two spend the next three hours discussing plans, calling a doctor and him pulling you out of your anxious thoughts of 'will I be a good mom?'
"This little bean is going to make us a party of three tom!" You have anxiety pouring out of you.
"Can't wait to make it a party of four" comes his suggestive reply and wink. You throw a pillow at him.
"Can't you let me deal with this pregnancy first" you grumble, a happy smile on your face.
"Only if you let me marry you" and when you turn back around you see tom kneeling, ring out.
"this isn't really how i planned on doing this, but you're carrying my baby and I just don't want to wait any longer to have my ring on your finger" He lets out a nervous laugh, as you tear up again. If any one asks you're going to say it's pregnancy hormones.
"Oh my god yes!!" you can't help but to tackle the gorgeous aviator to the ground in excitement.
"we're waiting till after the baby though, no way I'm walking down the aisle with a baby belly" You add as an afterthought. Unable to stop yourself from joining Tom's laughter at your comment.
"God I can't wait for your baby belly... but whatever you want for our wedding honey" you both can't help but grin at those words. Our wedding.
Yeah maybe you had nothing to worry about in the first place but you'd live through it ten times over if it meant marrying the love of your life and having his kids.
Taglist: @alanadetigy
#iceman x reader#top gun#top gun maverick#tom iceman kazansky#iceman#tom kazansky x reader#tom kazansky
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MATZ <3
Idol Seonghwa x fan Hongjoong
Content: soulmates, omegaverse, fluff
Words: 1152
This is my first Ateez fanfic so if anyone ever see's this, pretend you didn't XD /joking just please don't be mean.
-------------------------------------------
“Woo-“
“Wooyo-“
“Wooyoung!” a voiced screeched from next to said boy, causing his eyes to snap open and look around as he prepared to throw hands. Wooyoung looks around through bleary eyes until he sees Hongjoong waving his arms frantically in front of him making him to let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Yah! I thought we were being attacked!”
“Grab your stuff and move! Or we’re going to lose our place in the line and say bye to barricade!” that seemed to make something click in his mind as he jumped up to grab his stuff right before Hongjoong started dragging his arm.
“You can’t blame me for falling asleep, we haven’t moved in six hours!”
“Yea, yea but you’re up now and we’re heading inside so let’s go!”
The two were led into the building where they were about to see their favourite group perform, and they were both very excited, one perhaps more than the other.
“Don’t worry Joong, even if we were miles away, Seonghwa would never be able to miss your bright red hair” he says with a loud laugh as the mentioned just drags him forwards.
With a roll of his eyes and an extra tug on the youngers arm he replies, “Well I do want him to notice me at least once in my life”.
After another couple of hours of going through security and waiting some more, they were finally let into the room where they would be seeing their favourite group. Finally - after 8 hours and a couple telling offs from security for running - they made it to the barricade.
“Wooyoung we did it! We got barricade!” the usually quiet and more serious of the two exclaims with a wide smile making the younger falter for a second.
“We did and look at Mr Serious being all excited!” he teased and nudged the other with his arm. Hongjoongs smile immediately left his face as he glared at the other.
“Whatever. Let’s take a picture for the selfie challenge”. The group made a challenge for fans to take selfies and post them with the groups tag and before every concert they would pick one selfie, and those in the selfie would get to join the group on stage and do a dance challenge with one member of their choosing.
So, they took the photo and uploaded it to Wooyoung Instagram with #AtinyAteezSelcaChallange
- imagine the background is the concert stage.
--- with Ateez ---
“Yo guys come and look at this selfie challenge entry!” the deep voice of Mingi calls out as the others start to gather around him.
“They’re actually kinda cute!” another deep voice calls out from next to Mingi making the aforementioned look towards Yeosang.
“Right! The red hair suits him so much! Maybe even more than it suited San when he had it” Mingi teases with a sly smirk.
“Yah! I looked great with red hair!”
“Yes you did San, now let me see who we are talking about”, Mingi turns his phone to the eldest and Seonghwa’s eyes widen as his lips part a little.
“H-Hyung.. you’re letting out your pheromones” Yunho comes up behind Seonghwa to attempt to cover his body so that his pheromones don’t travel too far.
“A-ah sorry!” he exclaims and turns away from the phone and takes a deep breath.
“Someone liked what they saw! Tell us was it the red head or silver head?” Mingi continues his onslaught of teasing. Meanwhile Jongho was sat watching the whole scene with an amused smile.
The sound of a door opening broke up their conversation and caused them all to look over. “You guys are on in 10! Did you pick a winner yet?” Mingi smirks and goes to the manager to whisper in his ear something for only him to hear.
--- small time skip ---
Ateez were performing their song ‘wave’ - during the free moving part which allowed them to interact with fans - when it happened. The whole world turned slow motion as Seonghwa looked over the crowd and locked eyes with a certain red head in front of him. Hongjoong would have fell to the floor if it wasn’t for Wooyoung catching him under his arms. The boy looked at Hongjoong’s face to see if he was okay and audibly gasped upon seeing his friends bright blue eyes. His eyes rapidly moved from Hongjoong to Seonghwa with his mouth agape.
Once Seonghwa managed to regain his senses, due to Jongho patting his shoulder, he quickly called the security to get Hongjoong over the barrier as he could smell his pheromones already. It would not be good if other alphas start to smell him too. (luckily security had to be beta’s to work due to the amount of people they would see).
Hongjoong was pulled over the barrier and so was Wooyoung after the security gave into his screeching about staying with his best friend.
Not long after, the music faded away and soon the rest of Ateez knew what happened so Mingi started talking.
“Atiny! You know what time it is! Time for our selca challenge winners to join us on stage! I’m sure many of you noticed our leader during Wave and I’m happy to announce that his soulmate was picked to join us on stage today! What a coincidence right!?”
Hongjoong darted his eyes to Wooyoung in shock. “Seonghwa… soulmate… we won the challenge!?”
Wooyoung nodded quickly and gave Hongjoong a quick hug, “look at you all tongue tied! Come on let’s go!”. The security led them to the steps and helped them onto the stage where the members joined them. Hongjoong’s eyes scanned across them and immediately found Seonghwa’s.
“Oh my gosh… Seonghwa is my soulmate!?” he shouted and immediately covered his mouth with both his hands when he realised the group could hear them. A couple smiles were seen but none as wide as his newfound soulmates.
With a wide smile, Seonghwa walked up to his mate and stood within a foot of him and took one of his hands in his. Feeling the tingles travel up his hands was a welcome feeling as he flipped their hands over and saw their initials tattooed on their skin become their full names.
“Hello, my soulmate” Seonghwa said so softly that his mic could barely pick it up, all Hongjoong could do was star into his eyes in awe.
“You’re even prettier up close”. The whole stadium was silent at his bluntness until they started laughing when Hongjoong covered his mouth with his hands again and blushed a deep shade of red. Seonghwa stifled a laugh, if not for himself, but for Hongjoong’s sanity.
“Why thank you, but nothing compares to how beautiful you are my love”
“Well I assume we can guess who he’ll pick to do the dance with”
----------------------------------------------
that was so cringe XD
#hongjoong#seonghwa#seonghwa ateez#kim hongjoong#atiny#atz#hongjoong x seonghwa#matz#omegaverse#idol au
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dating headcanons ; i.yuuji, f.megumi
notes!!
the second part of my "dating headcanons" series so i hope you enjoy!!
other parts ; n.kento, g.satoru, g.suguruㅤi.toge, o.yuutaㅤk.choso, z.naoya
m.list
i.yuuji
yuuji is a sweetheart and it is v well known
like, honestly, you could ask for anything (even if you were just a random stranger to him) and he would give it to you with a smile on his face, just happy he could be of help
and if you were dating him???? omg he'll absolutely do anything for you
like, it's to the point where you have to teach him how to deny people and to not be self-sacrificing, and that he has to convince you that he'll listen to your advice
it doesn't really quell your worries but you appreciate his effort nonetheless
anyway!! you and yuuji are that couple that single people pretend to cringe at but secretly envy to death
you'll both just be walking down the street or through the park or something, and out of the corner of your eye you see a couple of teenagers pretend to gag at you
it's become an inside laugh to you both and, whenever the scenario occurs, you both purposefully turn to each other and kiss .... but only if you're okay with pda!!
yuuji also values you and your opinion so much! he's a bit clingy but it's cute
he'll text you regularly whenever you two are away from each other and, if you're out with your friends at that time, they'll probably tease you about the onslaught of messages you keep getting
but also, he knows where to stop!! he won't constantly spam you; he mainly just texts you loads when he's bored or in between training with megumi
idk, and the messages aren't nagging or anything, they're more like "miss you! hope that you're having fun and okay :)"
kcndsicnibieownbu my heart 🥺😭
whenever you're feeling bad, ill, or just generally deflated, yuuji will make it his personal mission to cheer you up
your friends said a weird comment that rubbed you the wrong way? yuuji will organise a movie night for the two of you: featuring your favourite films
you've caught a cold and have a sore throat? yuuji will make you his infamous soup that is known to cure colds quicker than ever!
or if you just feel like doing nothing and lounging about for the day? yuuji is fine with that too! he'll go out shopping so that you have your favourite snacks and whatever else you want or need
overall, yuuji is a sweetheart but i mean, what's new 😭
f.megumi
megumi: an angel .... done!
i'm a big simp for megumi so yeah :((( HE'S JUST SO FERJKBBWJBJCBWKDN
anyway!! megumi as your boyfriend or partner is underrated to be honest
he'll do anything for you, kind of like yuuji, but is more low-key and quiet about it and will absolutely deny doing anything for you when you two are with others
like, let's say that he buys you a warm drink because it's cold out and you jokingly kiss his cheek in gratitude, only for your moment to be interrupted by yuuji and nobara who were also with you
as they tease megumi, he will, if you're around, 1000% bury his head into the junction between your head and shoulder and omg melting rn brb
but seriously, megumi is so shy displaying affection in public, but together??? you two are cuddling all the time
like, he's the type that, as you're walking past him to go to the kitchen or something, he'll grab your waist and pull you in for a hug and you just stay like that for a while
on another note! i think he'd also (vvvv reluctantly but nonetheless) introduce you to gojo over dinner as if he were his dad
like, because you both go to tokyo tech, you already know him so it's just a mess
gojo's interrogating you about your intentions with his son, megumi's burying his head in his hands as he tries to ignore the odd stares you get from other people in the restaurant, and you are having a hard time not choking of laughter on the food
it's a mess, but in the best way possible
omg gojo would probably host "future-daughter dates" with just you and him where he shows you an album of pictures of megumi when he was younger
and you order takeaway but don't tell megumi because you didn't order him stuff
you and gojo bond vvvv quickly, much to your lover's happiness and sadness
but he is very aware about the fact that you two share pictures of him on the daily, and that gojo often calls you when megumi either ignores his messages or doesn't pick up on a call
idk, whilst he pretends to hate your and gojo's formed friendship, he is secretly delighted that you two have bonded and are there for him
PROTECT HIM PLSSS :((((
© fairytogeㅤ ꔫㅤ please do not copy, repost, translate, etc without my permission
#jjk fluff#jjk#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk imagines#jjk headcanons#jjk hcs#jujutsu#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro#megumi x you#megumi x y/n#fushiguro megumi#yuuji itadori#itadori yuuji#itadori yuji#yuji itadori#yuuji x y/n#yuuji x you#yuuji x reader#yuji x you
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It's been FAR too long since I've posted about Crosshairs/on this account at all, and somehow I still have tons of people interacting with the content....so thank you very much!!!!
Today I wanted to kinda approach a subject I inch away from because everyone has their own perspective and views on crosshairs as a character. Simply because a lot of his personality you have to makeup with the lack of attention placed on him in Bayverse.
I think though that I have a pretty good feeling of his character so I figured I'd share some things with people after analyzing him in the movies (a million times)
Section 1 (Teamwork)
One of Crosshairs biggest "made up" traits is that he hates teamwork, which is kind of just this generalized idea bout him which just isn't true at all!! Infact, he's one of the only Cybertronians in the movie to actively partake in on screen teamwork! (with drift actually, three times!)
I won't get heavily into the teamwork between the two, because I could infact go on forever but the tag team with onslaught, when fighting Megatron in The last night, and once more in Age of Extinction! Which is hard to tell because you don't see it, but they switch dinobots/ride the same dinobot multiple times if you count the number of dinobots without a autobot on em!
Crosshairs overall ability to work with other people is EXTREMELY overlooked because of his opening scenes in AOE, which I totally understand!
Another pet peeve of mine is when people call him the starscream of the autobots, don't get me wrong! Love starscream, but Crosshairs is just....the complete opposite. Starscream places actual effort into harming Megatron and/or taking his place. Crosshairs talks big yes, but never raises a hand to prime and is one of the only bots who just shuts up and doesn't go against OP's orders OR makes a snarky comment. When it comes to Optimus prime, it seems he has a lot of respect that he doesn't know how to deal with. This point just gets proven more in the end of AOE when Optimus "tames" grimlock.
Mini section 2 (Accent)
This one is pretty well known information, but I have seen people confuse his accent for Australian or something similar to it. It is infact British and NOT Australian.
Section 3 (Redditors)
I might get....a little passionate in this section, just simply because this makes me very upset. The whole argument that Crosshairs was written by a child (which surprisingly was said a lot) and that his Design is slighty weird.
Firstly, Crosshairs entire character is NOT classic generic hero. Infact, most people see him as the farthest thing, some people don't see him as hero at all!!! Crosshairs has a undeniable ability to hate what he does, but is amazing at it regardless.
While he may not want to do it, (which might be tied into his past, that I won't get into becauase I've already gotten into it before in a previous post) he always always does and he's never actually left anyone behind or betrayed anyone. Crosshairs character is extremely in depth, not because he's "edgy" or because he's just this mean stereotypical character. It's because he simply is just that kind of guy.
When you think of Crosshairs personality, try to picture a fun guy, topped off with this irritable personality, a gruff exterior but sort of soft on the inside obviously. He never admits how much good he wants to do in the world, becauase why would he do that? Crosshairs is definitely a believer in the "actions mean more than words"
To Top it All Off?
"why doesn't he have a sniper rifle"
Firstly, if he had a sniper rifle: that'd be amazing. And a great element to include. Imagine him being all mysterious, hiding with a sniper rifle!
But unfortunately he has the point blank guns because, screentime, it looks better, and of course the Bayverse syndrome where your weapon has to match your personality!
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Bloom (Chapter 8)
Chapter 7
Official Bloom Playlist
Warnings: Angst, Blood!!!, Fluff, Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI
A/N: Please make sure to check out the playlist above for the full effect while reading this chapter. As always, thanks for reading Merry Christmas!!
“You feel like home and everywhere I've never been, all at once.” - Butterflies Rising
You and Josh arrived back in Nashville the following Monday after a wonderful weekend in his hometown for Thanksgiving. You spent much of the next two weeks together, relaxing, cooking and planning your Christmas activities. Josh has been preparing for his first show back since they rescheduled them after San Antonio. He has rested and feels like he is back on top and ready to perform. Tomorrow the guys will all leave to play two consecutive shows in Atlantic City, New Jersey, returning home for a day before heading to Los Angeles for a week.
Josh has begged you for the past two weeks to come with him and you reluctantly agreed since there is no bus travel involved.
You are at your apartment visiting with Amelia, eating dinner, packing and catching up with her about all of the crazy things that have transpired in the last few weeks and promising to be around more. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket and you see Josh has texted you.
Josh: When are you coming home?
Confused, you respond.
You: I am home? Im at my apartment right now? What do you mean?
Josh: That might be where your things live but I think you know where home is angel.
Not wanting to read too much into it, you reply quickly and shove your phone back into your pocket.
You: Soon.
Selecting your outfits for your trip you carefully pack them into a hard shell suitcase along with your toiletries and a box of tampons, knowing your period will be coming soon. Zipping up the case and bidding farewell to Amelia, you make your way back to Josh’s house. Walking inside you find Josh still packing his things meticulously in his suitcase, trying to shove it closed.
“Ugh finally you’re back I need your help.” He says.
“You sit on this and i’m gonna zip it.” He says sitting you on his suitcase. The zipper glides closed with ease and you smile proudly.
“See everything just works better when you’re here.” He says.
“Josh I was gone for like 3 hours, maybe.” You laugh.
“I know I just miss you when i’m here and you’re not.” He says.
Giving him a soft kiss on the cheek you change into one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers and slide into the bed.
“Tired, pretty girl?” He says placing the suitcase near the door.
“Yeah, I am.” You reply knowing that its the fatigue starting to set in before the onslaught of your monthly visitor.
“What’s wrong baby? Are you not excited for this weekend?” He asks sitting next to you on the bed.
“No I am, I just want it to be fun for you since its your first show back, but I am… about to have my time of the month and I’m not feeling the best.” You say nervously. You haven’t been with Josh while on your period yet, the time frames never lining up.
“Oh, baby that's okay. Look if it makes you feel any better, that doesn’t bother me at all, in any way. I am going to make sure that you have fun this weekend and I will take care of you and pamper you the whole time. It will be great.” He smiles gently rubbing your hair.
Leaning your head into his touch you nod yes. He gets up and changes clothes and crawls into bed next to you, spooning your body as you fall asleep next to him.
.
.
“Is that it?” You yell towards Josh who is in the house locking up before you head to the airport.
“Yep that’s it angel, we are ready to roll.” He calls back.
You have about 15 minutes to get to the airport to meet the guys before heading to Atlantic City.
As you pull into long term parking Josh asks how you’re feeling, you replying that you were doing okay today and him giving you a kiss on the cheek. You wheel your bags into the airport and check in at the ticket counter. You make it through to security where you see a girl snapping a picture of Josh as secretively as she can. You smile and laugh and push him ahead through the x-ray machine.
You both are pulling your shoes on as the girl approaches you both. “Hi are you Josh Kiszka?” She asks nervously.
“I am! How are you? Would you like a photo?” He asks the girl kindly.
“Oh my gosh, Hi, i’m great and yes if you don’t mind!” She replies happily.
“Baby?” Josh gestures as he hands you the girls cellphone.
You take a few photos quickly before returning it to the girl who is absolutely gushing and thanking you and Josh profusely. You collect your things from the end of the belt and make your way to your gate, hand in hand.
“Do you ever get tired of people asking for photos of you?” You ask as you walk.
“No, never… its sweet. They are always so nervous. I try to calm them down the best that I can.” He says.
He has such a kind heart, just one of the many things you love about him.
You approach the gate and see the rest of the guys and their girlfriends sitting chatting amongst themselves.
“Heyyyy I didn’t know you were coming!” Jake says enthusiastically towards you. The other girls clapping their hands excitedly at your presence.
“Yeah, Josh wore me down” you say with a wink and elbow to his side.
“Good, we are gonna get into some trouble this weekend.” Sam jokes, his service dog Rose laying on the floor at his feet. Looking at her smiling, her tail gives you a small wag as a hello.
The flight in was short and sweet, only a little bit of turbulence from some bad weather moving through the area. You land and you all grab your luggage before a van delivers you to your hotel.
As Lisa hands out room keys you wait patiently until she calls Josh’s name. He steps up taking the key and telling her thank you. He walks over to the group and asks them to meet him back here in an hour.
You and Josh make your way to your room and are immediately greeted with a gorgeous room overlooking the boardwalk. You can see the colorfully lit ferris wheel spinning in the distance. The room has a large king size bed, a full length mirror, along with a dresser, desk and a small couch.
Josh opens his suitcase and begins hanging his clothes in the closet and placing his homey comforts on the bedside table. You excuse yourself to the bathroom only to find that, right on time, your period has arrived. You finish up and walk back into the room digging through your suitcase for the box of tampons.
“Im sorry, baby. I mean, I guess it is a good thing.” Josh says sympathetically.
You nod your head agreeing before heading back to the bathroom to rectify the situation.
As you walk out Josh is sitting on the edge of the bed. “Come sit.” He says.
“Listen, you know I think you are the most beautiful woman in the world. I know you are not feeling good about yourself right now, but look. You are a woman. Your body is beautiful and is doing exactly what its made to do. Everything happening to you is natural and wonderful and you handle it with grace. I am going to continue to worship this body exactly as it should be. Including tonight…if you’ll let me. I want to show you how amazing it can feel to be completely consumed in each other in your most raw and natural state.” He finishes.
Jumping over his legs to straddle him you push him down onto the bed and lean over and press your lips to his. “Yes Josh, you can show me.” You say before standing up and going to look out the window. “We need to head back down there, they will be waiting for us.” You say.
You head downstairs and meet the guys in the lobby. Across the way is the entrance to the casino and you all make plans to try your hand at some slots after dinner. You enjoy a wonderful meal with lots of wine at the restaurant just down the street from the hotel. Afterwards you all head back and into the casino, most of you going for slot machines, and the others to the blackjack tables.
An hour or so later you walk out with your winnings of $0.20, laughing at how Sammy lost $50.00. You are tired and smell like smoke from the casino but you remember what Josh has in store for the two of you as he slides his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.
“Still up for a little fun, angel?” He asks quietly.
“Only if you want to.” You reply.
He unlocks the hotel room door with the keycard and lets you in first. You sauntering across the room still tipsy from the alcohol with dinner, and the drinks in the casino.
He flops down on the bed with a deep sigh, “come here angel.” He says laying back.
You crawl between his legs, bending down and placing a kiss on his stomach, over his clothes. Feeling bold you unbutton his pants and hook your fingers into the hem dragging them down to let his dick be free. He is growing hard at the excitement of what’s happening, the soft kiss you place on the tip expediting the process.
You squat down off the bed and untie his shoes and remove his socks one at a time before pulling his pants completely off. with his legs hanging off the bed, bent at the knee. You sit up taller and grab the base of his length in your hand. He props himself up on his elbows to get a better look at what is happening. You make eye contact with him and as seductively as possible take him into your mouth, until you feel him at the back of your throat. You wrap your lips around him and slide back and forth never breaking eye contact. He throws his head back in pleasure a soft “fuck” leaving his throat. You continue and add a gripping motion to his base. Your other hand reaching up grazing your fingernails across his pelvis. As you continue to take him in, your tongue starts to swirl around the tip and he quivers under you. “Im gonna cum angel so pull off now if you want to.” He says urgently. You shake your head no, him still penetrating the back of your throat and with one good long stroke up his dick he cums spilling down the back of your throat.
“Jesus Christ, that was sinful." he says
You pull off of him standing up, taking your shoes and clothes off, leaving you standing in just your thong. Josh stands and takes the rest of his clothes off and makes his way to the bathroom, returning with a bath towel. He spreads it out over the sheets of the bed and turns back to you removing your panties.
“Josh I have to go to the bathroom first…” you say and he nods understandingly.
You go to the bathroom and flush your tampon down the toilet, wash your hands and return to him.
“Lay on that towel angel.” He instructs.
“The white towel?!” You say nervously.
“Angel they see this all the time i’m sure, don’t be ashamed.” He says rubbing his hands down your legs as you nod and lay on the towel.
“You know sex during your period is supposed to alleviate cramps?” He says.
“I have heard that but, I've never tried. There’s never been anyone I’ve wanted to try with.” You reply.
“You’ve never had period sex before, angel?” He asks surprised.
“No.” You answer.
“I love you so much. I can’t believe you are mine.” He says. “Im going to be gentle, until you tell me not to, okay?” He asks.
“Please Josh…” you say, desperate for him.
He aligns himself with you, gently pushing into your cramping core with a groan.
It feels so good to have the pressure inside of you relieved by him. He begins to slowly rock his hips back and forth, the sound of your arousal filling the air. This is more of a wet sound than you’re both used to, and you feel his dick grow even harder.
“God angel, this is something else.” He says as he continues.
“Josh, you can be rough now. It’s okay.” You beg.
With that the pace of his hips pick up, his dick plunging deeper inside of you, the force of it pushing liquid out of you. As he continues you feel and hear a small spray leave you, as you both realize that your blood has scattered across his torso. You feel embarrassed for a millisecond before Josh audibly indicates how much he loves it.
Thrusting deep into you time and time again, liquid flowing freely from you, landing on the towel beneath you and adorning Josh’s pelvis. It all feels so good.
You do feel relief from your cramps as the coil inside of you tightens before your impending orgasm. You know that Josh isn’t too far behind by the moans he’s releasing. You can tell that period sex is something he is definitely into.
“My gorgeous woman. So fucking beautiful marking me with her blood. Fuck, I love you.” He says. Sending you rippling through your orgasm a small spray of arousal and blood hitting his base sending him into his own release.
“Fuck, that was insanely hot. So primal.” he says pulling out of you, blood and slick coating his dick. “Stay there and let me watch.” He says watching his cum, tinted pink, leak out of you onto the towel.
“Jesus Christ I’m going to cum again if I didn’t know better.” He says staring.
“Josh, stop…” You say blushing.
“You are a goddamn dream. Don’t ever think for one second that you aren’t… I will be damned if anyone ever does that to you, but me. ” He says getting up from the bed. He walks into the bathroom and turns on the shower before peaking his head out of the door and saying “ready and waiting for you angel.”
He really is too good to you. That may have been one of the best orgasms of your life. Sitting up and swinging yourself off the bed, you hold the towel to your center as you walk, catching any excess fluids from dripping. You drop the towel on the bathroom floor and join Josh in the perfectly steamy shower.
.
.
.
The next day when you wake Josh is gone but has left a note for you on the desk.
Went to find coffee…
x J
You smile at his cute handwriting, and set the note down and proceed to get dressed for the day. The guys will have soundcheck around 2:00 and Josh has demanded you come with him.
The venue is just around the corner in a different hotel. You straighten your hair and put on your outfit and lounge on the couch as you wait for him to return with coffee. You scroll through instagram and twitter and see nothing but excited comments from fans about the shows this weekend.
The door opens, Josh pushing it open with his foot with two coffees in his hand and a Starbucks bag hanging from his wrist.
“Its a good thing I love you…It was a mob scene at Starbucks, there were so many fans outside I had to send my mother in to get our order.” He laughs, “alas, here is your hot bean juice my lady.” He smiles.
Oh okay he is in a silly mood today. You love it when he is like this. He must be excited for the show. “Thanks baby!” You say happily accepting the large coffee.
“I also got you a muffin.” he says presenting you with a blueberry muffin.
“You’re the best.” You say kissing his soft pink lips.
“Oh your nose is cold, how cold is it out there?” You ask.
“Uh frigid, I don’t know, wear a hat, a scarf, mittens whatever you have!” He jokes.
You laugh and kiss his nose.
Around 1:30 you Josh and the guys all meet in the lobby to head to the van to take you all to the venue for soundcheck. On the way the guys tentatively discuss the setlist for the evening and what they want to play for soundcheck. As you all enter backstage you see them check to see everything is set up how they want it and you and the other girls head down to the empty pit, your usual sound check spot. The guys play through a few songs, one oldie, according to Jakes girlfriend, and then they finish up and head back to the green room where you meet them. They will remain here for the rest of the day until it’s time for the show. You and the girls say your goodbyes and head back to the hotel to get ready. You all had outfits planned for the two nights of shows, coordinating to somewhat match color schemes.
.
.
Arriving back to the green room later that evening, you are reunited with Josh and the guys who are now dressed in their stage outfits, and getting their rhinestones applied. Josh is walking around with his hot drink and cracking jokes for the girl who makes their social media videos. You hang out on the couch and he eventually makes his way over to you and sits down.
“Are you ready?” You ask.
“Yeah I feel pretty good, my ear isn’t bothering me at all right now. Didn’t hurt after soundcheck so that is a good sign too.” He says, “I am so glad you’re here, the shows are just so much better when I know you’re out there watching.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world my love. You’re gonna do great tonight, and then you’re gonna take me back to the room and do whatever you want to me.” You whisper.
“That’s a deal angel.” He replies.
An hour or so later, the guys are stepping onto the stage and the fans are going absolutely insane. The energy the guys have on stage tonight is better than it has been in weeks. The crowd sings along to every song. They sway in unison to ‘Light My Love’ and you tear up knowing how much emotion that song causes people to feel. Your heart swells as you watch Josh and his brothers are living this dream. At the conclusion of the set, Josh takes a shot on stage with the fans and you use that as your cue and you and the girls head backstage from the sound booth.
A little while later the guys meet you back in the dressing room, they are all sweaty and ready for a drink. Josh walks up to you, wrapping his arms around you and dipping you down for a dramatic kiss. “Hello angel how was the show?” He asks standing you back up.
“Amazing as usual” you reply. You mingle with everyone while the guys take turns cleaning up and setting stuff up for tomorrows show. A while later you’re all bussing back to the hotel, tired from the long day.
You and Josh walk hand in hand to your room, both of you cold from the outside air. Getting into the room you can tell Josh is tired from the night. He hasn’t given a full on performance in over a month, the time off catching up with him.
You change into your pajamas as you watch him. He grabs a pair of sweatpants walks over to the bed, slides his clothes of until he is completely naked, then sliding on the sweatpants. He goes into the bathroom and brushes his teeth before climbing into the bed. You scurry to the bathroom to brush your teeth and plug in both of your phones before getting in bed, turning off the lamp and curling into his open arms.
“You know, you said I could have you any way I wanted you tonight? I want you to just hold me. I am so tired.” He breathes.
“I know baby, go to sleep. I'll still be here tomorrow.” You reply.
“Be here forever. Just like this.” He says before falling asleep in your arms.
The next morning played out differently than the first, Josh wised up and ordered coffee to the hotel from UberEats, thus avoiding the fans that knew he went there yesterday, and were inevitably waiting. You enjoyed your morning together reading in bed, cuddling and relaxing before getting ready to go for soundcheck again.
Josh told you that he had a surprise up his sleeve for the show tonight and to make sure you paid attention. After soundcheck ended, again you and the girls went back to the hotel to get ready. You made sure to look extra hot tonight since you and the guys were going out afterwards. A while later you and the girls walk into the green room to meet the guys before the show. Josh sees you enter and immediately jumps up and walks over to meet you.
“Damn you look edible angel. I could fuck you right here right now.” He says quietly.
“Well that would be a mess, wouldn’t it?” You joke with a devilish grin.
“Ugh, you better stop before I get a massive erection before we go on.” He says.
“Wouldn’t be different than any other show, huh babe?” You say in a flirty tone.
His eyes about bulge out of his head and he runs his tongue along his teeth shaking his head. You can tell you are going to get it later.
The first half of the show was just as amazing if not better than the previous night. They played a few different songs and you were starting to form your favorites. After the drum solo, Josh talks to the crowd, and you see his eyes find you in the sound booth with a big smile and he says ‘ahh just like good sex…” before the lights fade to green and they play what you now know is ‘The Barbarians’.
You’re taken aback at his statement although you almost knew he was going to say something. This is the one he is throwing in for you and it is the sexiest song you’ve heard them play yet. You spend the rest of the show thinking about what you want him to play tonight while he has his way with you.
After wrapping up the show, and meeting the guys backstage, you wait as they get ready to go drink away the rest of the evening. You all end up at a bar close to the hotel, so that you can walk back when you’re ready. The guys are already pretty drunk by the time you arrive and you know that will make for a fun evening. You and Josh continue to make eyes at each other from across the bar all night. The guys are playing pool and the girls are sitting and watching from a table across the bar. You down 4 gin and tonics before you start feeling fuzzy. Josh is taking notice of your loosened state and bids farewell to the gang before helping you up and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. As you walk outside the cold air slices through your clothes. It’s about two blocks to get back and it’s a fight against the wind the whole time. Once you step foot in the lobby both of you begin to thaw out. Your head feeling dizzy, the next thing you know the elevator is dropping you off on your floor. Then Josh is closing the room door, and undressing you. Flashing in and out of darkness you feel a little woozy. You try to pull yourself back into consciousness as Josh hands you a glass of water and sits you down on the end of the bed. You drink the whole glass.
“Maybe you went a little too hard baby?” He asks.
“No, I am fine. I just needed to sit for a minute.” You say. “I think I only had maybe 4 drinks? And I guess all the ones before we left.. okay maybe I did have a little much. I am feeling ok now I promise” you say as your hand slides up his leg.
“Angel I need you to be sure you want to do this tonight.” He says. “I don’t know if I can be gentle and you're a little bit drunk.”
“Even better.” You reply “but Josh?” You question. “Fuck me to that song.”
“What song?” He asks.
“The one you played tonight with the long guitar solo... towards the middle....” You say.
“Age of Machine?” He laughs out loud questioning you.
“Yes that one! It is pure sex, Josh. Especially after your little sex comment. Right in front of all those people! All I could think about for the rest of the show was fucking you to that song.” You replied confidently thanks to the alcohol.
“You want me to fuck you… to my own song…angel…” he says unsure.
“Please Joshy?” You say placing your hand over his bulge.
After an annoyed sigh he responds.
“Anything for you my love, but just real quick...you know it’s my brothers guitar that makes the song? I just want to be clear that you want me to fuck you while I listen to my brother playing his guitar?” He says sarcastically.
“Yep that’s right baby…” you say back.
“Fine. Strip, angel.” He demands walking to the bathroom.
When he returns he is in only his boxers with a towel in his hands. Grabbing his phone off the dresser and connecting it to a bluetooth speaker, he looks at you and shakes his head laughing.
You hear a song start to play over the speaker as Josh walks over to you. He lays the towel down on the sheets and lays down on the bed laying his head on the pillows.
“You’re on top first, angel.”
You run to the bathroom and take care of your tampon before quickly returning to Josh who is laying on the bed gently stroking himself. You crawl over him and straddle his waist, your center sitting directly on top of his hard length. You lean over and and take his mouth with yours. Your tongues instantly finding each others tasting the remnants of the nights alcohol. His hands are on your hips pushing you down, grinding onto his dick back and forth. You can feel your wetness and it begins to slide easier. You push up from his lips and your hands are on either side of his head. He reaches his head up and bites down hard on one of your nipples. You scream out in pain. “There we go, that’s what I want to hear angel.” Josh says from underneath you. You lift up on your knees and grab the base of his dick aligning it with your center before slowly sliding down his full length. A moan escaping you from the fullness you feel inside of you. Placing your hands on his stomach you begin to rock back and forth in a wave motion, making sure you’re hitting your g spot with every forward motion. Josh grabs your hips thrusting into you from underneath with force sending a light splatter onto his base. He groans and as the evidence continues to marks his body over and over. As you feel your insides tightening you hear the opening notes to ‘Age of Machine’ and Josh makes a move to roll you over, still connected.
You smile up at him and wrap your legs around him. He forcefully unwraps them grabbing them and pushing your knees into your chest just barely touching your chin.
“You said you wanted me to fuck you to this song angel? Well, we are going to do it my way.”
He pounds into you in a thrust deeper than you’ve ever felt him before. A loud scream leaving your lips at the contact so far inside.
“There baby, now that is how the song is intended to be enjoyed.” He says repeating the motion with force gritting this teeth as another scream leaves you. You feel the spray leaving your center and it seems to make Josh fuck you even harder as the irony smell fills the air. He brings one of your legs to rest on his shoulder and continues. As the guitar plays in the background and you hear Josh’s voice singing to you, you moan in pleasure.
“Hands and knees.” He says heavy breathed and sweaty.
Pulling off of him he is covered in sweat, your arousal, and your blood. You get on your hands and knees and he reenters you right as the guitar solo begins. He is rapidly thrusting into you at this point and a slap connects on your ass as you moan, “Josh, fuck I am going to cum.”
He grabs the hair at the back of your head grasping it and pulling your head back pounding into you twice more before your body shakes from your orgasm tearing through you. “Josh fuckkk…” you cry out. The sloshing noises continuing until he is cumming in side of you with one more hard thrust. “Fuuuuuckkk.” he moans. He pulls out and you stay in the position for another minute knowing he likes to admire his handiwork. “Gorgeous.” He says. You feel two fingers swipe up your slit and swirl around your opening catching the dripping release. He taps your ass, an indication that he is done and wants you to be comfortable. You are both a mess and Josh couldn’t seem happier about it. You both jump in the shower to rinse off the night and crawl into bed. You are laying in his arms as he twirls your hair. “You know I have never fucked anyone to one of my own songs before? That was a first for me.” He says.
“Really? I feel like you would have done that at least once or twice?” You respond.
“Nope, only with you.” He smiles kissing your head. He pulls the string on the lamp and you lay there curled together. “I love you so much Josh. I am so proud of you. You did amazing this weekend.”
“Thank you my love, it’s all because of you. My lucky charm. I love you more every day. I swear.” He says.
Kissing him softly on his lips you whisper your goodnights knowing you had a long travel day tomorrow before heading to Los Angeles this week. Thinking of your perfect man you let your eyes flutter shut and the darkness whisks you away.
You’re in the hotel room sitting reading a book on the couch overlooking the boardwalk. It’s night time and the room is dimly lit providing the perfect ambiance to your book. Josh isn’t back yet but you know he will be soon. You are turning the pages of your book and you hear a knock at the door. Figuring Josh must have left his key, you open it but to your surprise it isn’t Josh. It’s Jake.
“Hi Jake, what are you doing here?” You ask.
Leaning against the door frame his tongue slightly peaking out he smiles, “Lookin for you…”
“Me?” You respond.
“Indeed. Can I come in?” He asks.
“Sure, Josh isn’t here though?” You reply as he makes his way inside.
“Not here for him…” he replies. He examines your body up and down with a smirk. You remember that you are wearing pajamas with no bra and get nervous, covering your chest with your arms.
“Its too late to hide now, sugar…” He says.
You stare at him shocked at what he is saying and shocked that you felt a rush of heat to your center. This is Josh’s brother, his twin brother. You shouldn't feel anything.
Jake speaks again, “Don’t be shy, I know you're turned on.”
“I don't know what you mean…I’m with Josh...” You stammer.
“You are so sexy you know that? The good girl thing really does it for me. Then you come out tonight with your tits all pushed up like that? I saw your glances all night, trust me. I noticed.” He says.
Your arousal growing heavier by the words leaving his mouth you stare at him. He stands up and walks towards you causing you to walk backwards until you are met by the wall.
“Your breathing is getting heavier doll, are you okay?” He says smugly knowing you won’t reply.
“Tell me, are you as good a girl as you seem? Because I don’t think you are… I think my brother got himself wild one didn’t he?” He asks tracing his index finger over your collar bone pushing your pajama top off to the side.
Your breath hikes as his fingers make contact with your skin. It is a similar electric feeling as that first time with Josh. Desire is swirling inside of you so fast that you know its getting to be too late to stop it. This is going to go one of two ways, bad or really really good. You didn’t want to admit to yourself that you’ve always found Jake attractive. Attractive in the way that he is your boyfriends twin, the forbidden twin. The one that brings the edge to make up for the softness of Josh. The one who brings the sex appeal and melts you with simple hand movements and fuck me eyes. You can’t say that you haven’t imagined this moment before, before quickly pushing it away into the corner of your mind.
“I can see you thinkin doll, you want this to happen don’t you?” He asks.
You continue to stare at him. Knowing if you reply it’s all over.
“Say it doll. You know you want this. Don’t think about what Josh will say. He knows. We all know. We can all see you want me just as bad as I want you.” He says.
The thin string you were hanging by snaps and you reply “I do want you.”
In a fury his lips are on yours kissing you in a way so hard and so different than Josh. Its aggressive and needy and the exact opposite of your sweet Josh, but you kind of like it. The forbidden qualities shining through with Jake.
“See I knew you weren’t a good girl. I knew you were hiding under there somewhere.” He says removing your top. He unbuckles his pants and unbuttons his button fly before pulling your pants off of your body. There you stand naked before him. Your boyfriends twin brother. Your boyfriends insanely hot, long haired, guitar god, twin brother.
You connect your lips with his again wrapping his long hair around your fingers and gripping tightly. His hands find your breasts squeezing them gently before pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger.
A moan releasing from your throat causing his dick to grow harder against your bare stomach.
“Damn and my brother gets to hear that whenever he wants? Criminal.” He says into your neck.
Suddenly he is picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder walking over to the bed before throwing your body down on top of the sheets.
“I know you want me to fuck you as bad as I want to fuck you but we have to make this quick. Josh will only be gone for another 10 minutes. I made sure of that.” he states, pushing his boxers off, his dick hanging heavily between his legs. You stare at his length comparing when he stops you mid thought.
"Not everything the same, huh?" He says, knowing he may have an extra inch on Josh.
Playing his little game you respond, “I'll be the judge of that.”
“There she is, keep going baby, make this memorable.” He says.
“Fuck me Jake.” You say with venom lacing your words.
His fingers run up your center collecting your slick before he coats the head of his dick with it. Lining up with your wet opening he pushes forwards and bottoms out inside of you. A groan releasing from your lips at the feeling of fullness inside of you.
“Jesus Christ you feel good doll. You are so tight.” He says as he begins to slow pull out and push back in. You wrap you legs around his calves and stare at him his bare chest adorned with a single pendant coin necklace. Grabbing the metal strand and pulling him closer to you, your lips capturing his and violent kiss. His tongue is swirling with yours in a way that you haven’t experienced. Again it’s very different than the way you and Josh typically kiss.
He starts to pound into you quickly. More aggressively and extremely vocally as a sheen of sweat begins to cover his body. “Fuck I can get why Josh never shuts up about fucking you…” he grunts “and I have to sit there and listen to it. Do you know what that’s like doll? Watching you with him, knowing that I can fuck you like this?” He says hitting your sensitive spot inside causing you to scream.
“Yeah scream for me doll. Let everyone hear how good this dick makes you feel.” He says continuing his movements.
His fingers reach down and pinch your clit and the growing feeling in your stomach is starting to peak. “Ah you’re close aren’t you sugar, you’re gonna cum for me aren’t you? Say my name...I want to hear it on that pretty mouth.” He demands.
“Jake I'm gonna cum, don’t stop.” You beg.
“I'm not stopping doll, you just make those pretty sounds wrapped around my dick.” He says.
With those words you are shot into orbit, vision black and surrounded by twinkling stars. Jake's voice snapping you back as he moans at the extra wetness. “Your pussy is so tight doll I’m gonna cum, fuck. Do you want me to shoot inside of you or out…” he asks hastily.
“Inside…” you breathe
“Fuck, ok sugar. So bad letting me cum inside of you... All the while you’re with my twin. Goddamn your fuckin sweet.” He says grunting into you as you feel his release spray through you.
“Fuck you’re so good.” He says collapsing on top of you. “That’s what I always thought it would be.” He says kissing your neck one last time before jumping up and running into the bathroom. You lay there in shock.
He turns the shower on and peeks his head out the door, “Here jump in and wash this off before he gets back. Our secret huh sugar?” He says buttoning his pants. You get up and walk into the bathroom as he adjusts himself in the mirror. You get in the shower and by the time you get out, he’s gone. You get back in bed, and think for a while as you wait for Josh to return.
You hear an alarm clock going off loudly and you can’t seem to find the source. You hear Josh’s voice echoing through the entire room and you open your eyes to find yourself in bed wrapped up in his arms confused at your surroundings. When did he get back? What's happening? Does he know?
“Good morning angel. Did you enjoy your dream?” He says smugly.
Oh my god, it was a dream. You had a sex dream. About Jake.
“How did you know I was dreaming?” You ask.
“You were moaning, I thought you even had an orgasm there for a second.” He laughs.
“I think I did... Did I… say anything?” You ask nervously.
“No. It was a lot of pleasurable sounds to wake up to though…” he smiles kissing your face.
“Even in your dreams i’m taking care of you huh angel?” He asks.
Your heart drops into your stomach and you nod your head at him not wanting to think about what just happened.
As you get up and head to the shower you are filled to the brim with guilt. How could your brain do this to Josh. Why is this happening? Do you subconsciously have feelings for Jake? You push it all to the side as you stand under the shower spray. You finish your shower lost in your thoughts and come out to see Josh packing his suitcase up. You get dressed hardly able to look him in the eye you feel so guilty. Choking back your emotions you pack your suitcase up. You are quiet, and you know Josh can tell.
“What is wrong angel? You’re not yourself?” He asks rubbing his hand down your arm.
“Oh, nothing baby. I’m fine. Just tired.” You reply.
“If something is wrong you would tell me right?” He asks with a concerned look.
“Of course.” You reply, knowing full well this is one of those thingse doesn't need to know.
As you check in at the airport for your flight back to Nashville you are handed your ticket and make your way to the gate. All of you chat amongst yourself until it’s time to board. 45 minutes later you hear them call your boarding groups and you head onto the plane. You suddenly realize that you and Josh are not seated together. He is 3 rows ahead of you sitting next to a stranger. He sits down and shrugs his shoulders at you. As you make your way to your seat you slide in next to the window and sip your water waiting to see who will be sitting next to you. Sam passes. Danny passes. The other girls pass. You make eye contact with Jake who nods at you and sits down in the empty seat. This is your living nightmare and he has no idea.
“Looks like we’re together.” He says.
You about choke on your water.
“So it seems. I wonder why we are all split up?” You question.
“Ah, well it will be a quickie.” He says.
Your breath hitches again as you recall your dream yet again.
“Mhmm” you say reaching for your book.
“Whatcha got there?” He asks.
“Ahh its just a book I’ve been reading this weekend. I'm almost done.” You reply.
“Am I that boring that you’d rather read a book than talk to me?” He asks.
You feel the plane start to glide down the tarmac indicating take off.
“No, I just don’t want to bother you.” You say.
“Ah you’re not a bother darlin, you’re one of us now.” He says.
You stare at him, he is sort of beautiful in his own way. Stop it! You tell yourself.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He asks.
“Like what?” You reply.
“Like you’re scared of me or something, I don’t know. I can’t put my finger on it.” He says.
You swallow hard and hold your breath as you feel the plane lifting off the ground.
His hand pats the top of your arm, gripping the arm rest. And you suck in a breath.
“Nervous flyer?” He asks.
“A little bit today...” you say. Its not a lie. You are definitely nervous about this whole situation. You know he has no idea about your dream but god it felt so real you almost wonder if he had it too.
“Well, we will be fine don’t worry sugar.” He says with a kind smile. He leans over the arm rest into the aisle to see if he can see his girlfriend giving her a small wave and a smile.
He sits back in his chair and blows out a breath.
A while later he starts up a new conversation.
“You know, I’m really happy for you and Josh. I don’t think we have ever talked about it, but he really loves you and I’m glad you have each other. It’s a night and day difference for him.” He says.
“Thanks Jake, I love him too. He makes me really happy.” You reply. Still eaten alive by guilt.
“Good, he’s had a rough year, you know that though. When he is hurting so am I. So seeing him happy with you also makes me happy.” He says.
“Well I guess as long as he keeps me around, everyone will be…happy…” you joke.
“I don’t think you’re going anywhere darlin’. At least that’s what he told me.” He says.
“What do you mean?” You ask.
“Ah i’ve said to much. Just glad you’re in our life is all.” He says.
You let the conversation go and you turn to your place in your book and try to read for the rest of the flight even though your mind is racing through everything that has happened today.
As you arrive back in Nashville you all say your goodbyes knowing you’ll be right back here tomorrow morning. You and Josh find his car in long term parking and get into the freezing cold cab.
“How was your flight my love?” Josh asks.
“Oh it was eventful, you know I was next to Jake right?” You say.
“I kind of saw that.” He laughs “I bet that was interesting, you two don’t talk very much.”
“I always mean to, but I never know what to say.” You reply.
“Yeah he can be a little intimidating but I promise it’s all a facade. He is just like me with a tougher looking exterior.” He jokes.
“Yeah I guess you’re right.” You reply.
When you arrive back at Josh’s house you are met with the familiar feeling of home. It's smells, and comforts. You’re aren’t sure how Josh is able to do this all the time, leaving and returning. Its hard and you were only gone for 3 days, you can’t imagine it being months at a time.
Josh noticing you’re quiet again asks, “Baby, you are all in your head today. What is going on?”
“Nothing, Josh I promise. Just having an off day.” You reply.
He raises his eyebrows at you, knowing you aren’t telling the truth but letting it go giving you a delicate kiss on the lips.
He places an album on the turn table and you begin to relax and you sort through your suitcase removing the dirty clothes, replacing them with clean clothes and more outfits before you leave for LA tomorrow. Josh makes you both something to eat in the kitchen and you hear the song ‘Dirty Work’ by Steely Dan spinning, singing to your subconscious thoughts.
“When you need a bit of lovin’ cause your man is out of town, that’s the time you get me runnin’ and you know i’ll be around…. I’m a fool to do your dirty work, oh yeah…..I don’t wanna do your dirty work, no more, i’m a fool to do your dirty work oh yeah…..”
You feel a swirling feeling in your stomach like you’re going to vomit and run to the bathroom and sit on the floor. Why is the guilt eating you alive? You didn’t do anything wrong? Did you? You breathe deeply for a few minutes and collect your thoughts hoping Josh didn’t notice.
You hear footsteps and a knock at the door.
“Baby…” He questions.
“I'm ok.” You reply opening the door.
He stands there with his hands on his hips. “Quit lying to me. What is going on.” He says harshly.
Quickly running through all of the scenarios and what could possibly play out if you told the truth you decide on the the option with the best outcome.
“Josh I don’t know what to say…” You reply.
“Oh god what’s wrong?” He asks concerned.
“Can we sit?” You ask.
You both sit down on the edge of his bed and you place your head in your hands.
“You’re scaring me angel what’s going on?” He asks nervously.
“Nothing is going on, nothing happened I am just…” you reply swallowing your nerve and telling the truth.
“Ok you know how last night when we had sex you were talking a lot, about your brothers and the music and we were so in the moment…” you stammer. “I don’t know if it was the alcohol mixing with my subconscious and your words or what… I just…”
“What, just say it…” he begs.
Taking a deep breath you respond. “I had a sex dream about your brother…” you say nervously looking him in the eyes. “It's eating me alive, that’s what you heard this morning. I feel so guilty and embarrassed and I haven’t been able to even look at you all day, I’m so sorry Josh.” You finish.
He stares at you blankly thinking about what you’ve said. Remembering your orgasm from this morning.
“Which brother...” He finally says.
“You know…don’t make me say it...” You reply.
“Say it now angel or it's only going to make it worse.” He snaps.
“Jake. It was about Jake. Im so sorry Josh, please.” You reply with tears in your eyes.
“Was it good?” He asks blankly.
“What?” You ask completely shocked.
“Was. It. Good. Did he fuck you real good in your dream, angel? Did he do all of the dirty little things you fantasize about?” He asks harshly shaking his head.
“I…Josh…” you say speechless.
Getting up and pacing around the room, he continues. “How long have you been thinking about Jake? Do you imagine him when I am fucking you?” He asks.
“Josh how could you say that? You know I love you…” you say, devastated he would even say that.
“Save it. I can’t believe the moans coming from your mouth this morning. All along I thought you were dreaming of me. Of course it wasn’t me…my own fucking brother. My twin. Why was I not enough? You are dreaming about fucking JAKE?!” he finishes teetering on anger.
“Josh stop it” you cry. “Don’t you think I feel guilty? I love you. I don’t know why this happened!” You cry to him.
“Answer my question.” He says.
“What question?” You reply.
“Was it good? Did you like it? Tell the truth.” He demands.
“Josh, I…” You stop not wanting to finish the sentence as the tears freely flowing from your eyes.
"Answer!!" he yells at you.
You burst into tears, "Yes!"
A pissed off sigh coming from his chest he walks over to you, your face streaked with tears, taking it between his hands. “Go home…” he says behind his teeth, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks.
“I thought you said... this was home…” you say crying harder.
“Not anymore.” He says, releasing your face forcefully and walking away.
“What about LA?” You ask, scared to hear his answer.
“I'm going alone.” He replies coldly.
Throwing yourself back onto the bed your crossed arms cover your face as you quietly sob into them as Josh leaves the room.
Laying in his bed wondering if it’s the last time, you breath in his smells remembering this moment, You pull yourself up, looking at yourself in the mirror. Puffy eyes, swollen with tears. Your heart broken over something you couldn’t control. You’ve lost him. You collect your things and catch a glance at the polaroid tucked into the frame on his side table. A photo from Sammy’s camera that he took over Thanksgiving. A photo of you and Josh dancing in his living room, your smiles genuine and covered in love. Everything was perfect. Your heart breaks a little more.
You roll your suitcase out to the living room and Josh is gone. You see a plate of food set set neatly for you on the counter, remnants from earlier in the evening and you cry again.
You call out for him, but the house is silent. His car is gone.
You load your things into your car and as you pull away from his house you wonder if it will be for the last time, another sob ringing out from your chest. The realization of how much you actually love him becoming evident.
As you unlock the door to the apartment you see Amelia sitting on the couch watching tv and your eyes meet hers and she knows. You don’t even have to say anything and you she running to your side.
“Oh god, pen. Is it really bad?” She asks.
You nod your head and collapse into her comforting hug and explain everything, so thankful you have her.
.
.
.
You haven’t heard from Josh. It’s been days. You know he is in Los Angeles and you’re supposed to be there with him. You had a whole day planned together just you and him doing Christmas activities. Now you’re at your apartment alone and heartbroken. You check your phone constantly waiting to hear from him. But nothing ever comes. Checking social media, but he never posts. He’s completely silent. Amelia drags you out of the house to do some Christmas shopping and you can’t help but see a thousand things that remind you of him. As you walk around an antique mall you spot an item that you know was put there for you to find. Even though you and Josh are not speaking, you purchase the item, knowing that it is the perfect gift. Even if you have to leave it on his porch, you know it is destined to belong to him. You take the item home and wrap it delicately in brown paper. That night when you check social media you are presented with a tagged post. The guys are in a restaurant in LA and they are drinking and look so happy and you are crushed. He looks so happy. You miss him so badly but don’t reach out. You can’t.
You convince yourself to watch the livestream of the guys performance tonight even though you know it’s just torturing yourself. As you see them walk up to be interviewed your eyes fill with tears. Josh looks amazing and happy. It hurts knowing you are here like this and he is there completely unaffected. They all smile and laugh and are glowing together. You can’t believe you ruined everything. A while later they take the stage but something is off. Their moods aren’t the same. The crowd is almost empty and quiet. You can see the frustration on Josh’s face. He is tired, and out of breath. They are rushing through the set, and as quickly as they started its over. This was their last show of the year and you know he won’t be happy with how they left things. You feel for him and again want to reach out but don’t.
One, two, three more days pass. Still you have heard nothing.
On the fourth day you wake up to a text message.
Jake: Call me.
You feel like you’re going to throw up. You can’t call Jake? That is adding more fuel to the fire. Why is he texting you? You think on it for a few more minutes as your finger hovers over the contact and you hit the call button.
“Hello?” He answers.
“Hi” you reply shakily.
“Hi” he replies. “How are you doing?” He asks.
“I’m not great Jake, I think you know that.” You quip back.
“I do, and I'm sorry.” He says, “Have you heard from him?”
“No.” You respond.
“I figured as much. You need to talk to him.” He says. “Go to his house.”
“I don’t know Jake he pretty much told me to leave and was gone before I left. I haven’t heard from him since. I think he is done.” You say.
“Hes not. Just trust me.” He says.
“Okay.” You reply.
“So you’ll do it. You’ll go?” He asks.
“When I gather up enough courage, yes.” You say.
“Do it soon. Please.” He begs.
“Okay, I will.” You say.
“Thank you, we miss you, you know...” He says
“I miss you guys too.” You reply
“I hope everything works out. I’ll talk to you later.” He says.
“Thanks Jake. Bye.” You say ending the call.
Well that was odd. You think about what he said. You thought you and Josh were done, but maybe you weren’t after all. You talk to Amelia and she agrees that maybe you just need to go talk to him face to face now that some time has passed. You get yourself ready and give yourself about 10 pep talks to keep yourself from backing out. You get into your car and head over. The worst thing that can happen is that he can tell you he is done and to go home. As you pull into the driveway you see his car and get a horrible wave of nervous energy in your stomach. You try to breathe and center yourself. As you get out and walk to the door you are still shaking with nerves. You knock on the door three times and wait.
The door opens and he stands there staring at you blankly, fresh out of a shower, wrapped in a towel.
“Do you always answer the door naked?” You ask shyly.
“Well I wasn’t expecting anyone...” He replies with the tiniest hint of a smile. “Come in.” He says.
As you walk in it no longer feels homey you feel strange and uncomfortable. You sit on his couch, and he tells you he will be right back. A few minutes later her returns fully clothed and sits down in a chair next to the couch.
“Josh, I….” You start, you are unsure of how to explain how you feel but you hope he will understand if he just listens. “Im so sorry.”
“I know you are. He replies.
“I never meant for any of this to happen. I love you so much. Only you. I don’t even know why I had that dream. It meant nothing to me….” You say.
“I know.” He says.
“Can you say something? Anything other than I know? I am trying to make this right. I'm getting the feeling that you don’t want to do that.” You say.
“What do you want me to say? That you broke my heart? That you broke my heart thinking about fucking my brother? And that you enjoyed it? I have given you everything I have! I love you, I wanted it all with you! I just don’t know how I can get past this… it hurts.” he says.
“You left me here. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.” you say.
“I know. I had to know.” He says.
“Know what?” You reply.
“When I left here I drove straight to his house. I asked him if he had any feelings for you. To which he obviously said no. I told him what happened and told him that if there was anything going on he needed to tell me right then. He told me I was insane and that he would never do that. That I needed to go back to you before I ruined everything. When I got home you were gone.” He said.
“You told me to go Josh…” You say with tears in your eyes.
“I know, I did but I didn’t think you would actually do it! I just knew I would get back in time but you were gone. I thought that meant you…” he swallows back his own tears.
“Josh no…” you say reaching for his hand. “I love you. Only you. Never anyone else. How could you possibly think…” you say fully crying now.
“I don’t know, I know you love me but I just… I over reacted and I was cruel and I thought I lost you. I almost came to you that night but I was afraid you would turn me away. And then I was in LA and I was miserable. But I couldn’t call you. I didn’t know what to say. Then Jake and I argued before the show because I just couldn’t let it go. I got too drunk that night and fought with everyone… everyone was pissed at me. My life has been a mess the past week and I didn’t have you, and everything just seemed really bad. Too bad. I finally talked to Jake last night and he helped me realize that I can’t do this without you. Any of it. I didn’t know how to make things right between us. I was going to let you go. Now you’re here and I still don’t know what to say other than I love you so much and I am so sorry. ” He finishes.
Launching yourself into his lap you sit straddling him and just cry on his shoulder. His arms wrap around you and pull you closer.
“I'm so sorry baby I never wanted this to happen. This was the worst week of my life, watching you sing from my bed, heartbroken. I thought you were happier without me there. The pictures were so convincing and I was so devastated.” You cry into his chest. “I will never want anyone else, only you Josh. Please believe me.”
“I do believe you angel.”
Your lips reuniting with a passionate kiss, his hands desperately gripping you to him.
Pulling away, you say “You know he called me and told me to come to you right?"
He stares at you.
“He told me to come here, to come to you. He loves you so much Josh, he was devastated for you. He cares about you so much. We both do. How could you ever think…” he cuts you off with his lips on yours again, his tongue finding yours, telling you everything he couldn’t say for the past week and a half.
You lips connected, he stands up from the chair carrying you to his bedroom and gently places you on his bed.
“Please let me love you angel.” He says.
“Please Josh...” You beg.
You are desperate for his touch, to feel him again.
You both quickly remove your clothes and find each other again under the sheets.
“I never want to feel the feeling I felt when I came back and you were gone.” He says kissing your neck. “That was the worst pain I’ve felt in my life. I thought you were gone for good.”
“I will never leave you Josh.” You reply.
“Promise me.” He says lining himself with your center.
“I promise. Everything I have.” You say as you feel him slowly push inside of you.
This sex is different, it’s slow and filled with emotions. There isn’t an urgent moment. Every single second is spent with Josh reverently worshipping every inch of your body and you his. You both work slowly towards your release, sharing with each other every raw emotion and feeling in between the seconds. After you both come down from your orgasms he whispers into your hair, “I will love you forever my angel. Please never go.”
“Never.” You reply.
.
.
You and Josh become absolutely inseparable from each other over the next few days. You and he sharing a new found connection that brings you closer than you ever thought you could be. The days are spent watching Christmas movies together and enjoying just being together. Josh has asked you to come home with him for Christmas with his family and you can think of no better way to spend it.
.
.
Christmas Eve at Josh’s childhood home proves to be nothing short of magical. Everyone is here and you feel so much love for all the people around you. Karen and Kelly have decorated the house with lights, and the inside is just as beautifully decorated as the outside. You spend the evening around the fireplace laughing, telling jokes and stories from years past. Sammy and Jake are completely wasted on eggnog and playfully bickering with one another as you all cheer them on. As you watch them, Josh stands up and pulls your hand up with him.
“Come with me.” He says.
You follow behind him as he drags you by your interlaced fingers.
He leads you to the Christmas tree in the basement, squatting down and retrieving two small boxes from under the tree.
“Josh, Christmas is tomorrow!” You say.
“I know and there will be things to open tomorrow too, but these are special. For me and you only.” He says.
“Fine then you get to open your special gift too.” You say retrieving the one you brought for him.
He hands you the small box, and you both sit down on the floor. He nods at you to go ahead with a huge smile on his face. You slowly unwrap the package and open the little white box. Your heart swells when you immediately recognize what it is. Its a gold necklace with a ‘J’ initial pendant. It is the necklace he has worn every night on his tour.
“I want you to have it. Every night when I would put it on I would imagine what it would look like around your neck. My name. You were always meant to have it.” He says with his hand on your knee.
“Oh Josh, I love it so much. Thank you. It means so much to me.” You say with a kiss.
You put it on and clasp it around your neck.
“Its perfect. Exactly like I pictured it. Even better actually.” He replies lovingly.
“Your turn! Gosh I hope you like it.” you say nervously.
Josh unwraps the gift pulling out a vintage leather-bound notebook with a worn cover. Inside the first page you have written a note.
“For all of your brilliant ideas. Don’t forget to live your dream, too. I love you forever."
Wiping a small tear from his eye, he then pulls out of the box, a super vintage handheld film video camera with a bright red bow attached.
“I hope you like it, I saw it when you were in LA and thought of you.It broke my heart and I knew you were meant to have it. I didn’t know if I was going to see you again though. I was going to leave it on your doorstep, but this plan works out better.” You say giggling.
“You are the most amazing woman. The love of my life. It’s the best gift I have ever received.”
“I'm glad you like it, I love you so much Josh. Merry Christmas.” you say.
“Merry Christmas my love, although I do have one more for you. If… you want it.” He says playfully.
“Okay, only if you’re sure.” He says.
“Never been more sure than right now.” He smiles, handing you the box.
You unwrap it the paper and open the box and there is a gold house key with a red bow tied to the top.
“Move in with me…” Josh asks. “I know you practically live with me now, but I want you there all the time. All of your things. I want to come home to you. Every late night at the studio, every long leg of tour…. I want you. If you can’t be with me there, at least I know you’ll be at home. Our home. ” He says.
“Are you… sure Josh?” You ask clutching the key in your hand.
“I have never been more sure of anything in my life angel. I love you, I want this with you. All of it. Always. ” He says.
You kiss his soft warm lips as you respond throwing your arms around his neck.
“Yes.”
.
.
.
.
fin
#greta van smut#greta van fleet smut#greta van fleet fan fiction#greta van fleet#greta van fic#gvf series#gvf fic#jake gvf#sam kiszka gvf#gvf x reader#gvf smut#gvf fanfiction#josh kiszka#sam kiszka#jake kiszka#josh gvf#danny wagner#josh kiszka x reader#joshua michael kiszka#josh kiszka fanfiction#josh kiszka smut#jake kiszka smut#samuel francis kiszka#daniel robert wagner#gvf fandom
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One Look, Dark Room
[Stark U #4]
Summary: A nightmare that forces you to face what happened to you all those months ago leads you to Steve’s doorway, searching for the kind of comfort only he can give you. But you’re not the only one who craves the soothing timber of Steve’s voice, and that knowledge might just dig up things you aren’t ready to accept.
Pairing: college!Steve Rogers x reader, college!Bucky Barnes x reader, college!Sam Wilson x reader, college!Natasha Romanoff x reader
Word count: 5.2k
Warnings: mentions of previous sexual assault, language, nightmares, a little more Steve-heavy in this one and he is so soft
A/N: Back after another two months with another fic with my fave friend group! Honestly, the love on this series means so much and has really kept me going when it comes to writing. Thank you <3
Also, I recommend reading With a Little Help From Your Friends before this one if you haven’t already. It touches on really important events from that part!
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
With a painful gasp, desperate to breathe in air into your aching lungs, your eyes are forced open wide. You're on the verge of shooting up to a seat, just like in all the movies but never experienced yourself. The nightmare was suffocating and you couldn't stand another second.
An onslaught of air draws raspy coughs from your chest, springing tears to your eyes that accompany the ones already running down your cheeks. It's never felt this way before, has it? It's never been this bad, never clogged your throat with fear, never left your skin shivering with the pictures of the nightmare leaving behind a trail of goosebumps.
You haven't thought about what happened in the kitchen ever since the day it occurred. The memory got shoved down, buried under the school work and injuries and lazy nights on the couch. Buried underneath the constant attention from your friends. You've barely been alone for the past months.
It was almost forgotten, in a way. The feeling of his hands digging into your skin, his mouth drawing red marks on your collarbone, his warm breath on your neck was left to gain dust in the back of your mind. Your dream drew every trace of his offense up to the surface.
You've held no resentment towards Natasha for bringing that guy into your collective apartment. She could have never foreseen him sneaking out in the middle of the night to ambush you in the kitchen, but you've noticed her silent guilt in moments when she's reminded. It seems like it happens more often for her. But now, god, now it's crashing into you in insurmountable waves, waves that you can't ride past by yourself.
In the middle of your bed, sheets bunched around your waist, you're crying to the point where you're heaving. The nightmare left such a vivid picture of his assault, of what could have happened if Sam hadn't barged in just at the right moment. And despite the memory of him lingering on your skin, you crave someone else's comforting touch. Someone who isn't that man.
It's entirely dark as you step inside the quiet room, with the only proof of living being Steve's soft snores that escape his lips every few seconds. Though the darkness impairs your vision completely, you still feel the presence of another.
It's an unwelcome feeling, but mostly unexpected, when your throat tightens just a little further as you stare at the bed. The thought of another person laying in Steve's arms at night feels wrong. Maybe it has a lot more to do with the rareness of it rather than your own feelings. Steve is so dedicated and loyal to the group of people you've managed to pull together that each time you find him spending time with someone else, it leaves a bitter aftertaste on your tongue.
You're stuck in the doorway, staring out into the dark room as your eyes slowly, piece by piece, begin to adjust. You can't leave. God, you want to. You want to head back to your room and continue your reclusive crying session, but you need the comfort and reassurance only Steve can bring even more. Your feet are stuck to the ground, forcing you to torture yourself by staying long enough to make out the shape of the person laying in the bed beside Steve.
"Y/n?"
The soft and sleep-affected voice brings you back to reality, drawing your eyes to the now awake and confused Steve. His head still rests on the pillow, tiredly watching your tense figure in the doorway.
"You okay?" he asks, confusion turning into concern.
With a gulp you force yourself to open your mouth, desperately trying to keep down the thickness of your voice that's been building up ever since you woke up with a panicked gasp.
"Yeah. I'm sorry, I'm not gonna bother you. Go back to sleep, Steve," you mumble, nearly whispering to avoid revealing the obvious urge to cry.
Steve sits up in his bed, letting the thin sheet fall down until it drapes over his hips, baring his chest to the cold night air that creates goosebumps on your skin. You slowly turn around, your hand brushing the doorframe as you step over the threshold.
"Hey, wait," Steve calls out so quietly you wouldn't be able to hear it if it weren't for the lack of any other sound in the room. "You're not bothering me. What happened?" he says as he slips off the bed, standing up hesitantly. You stop in your tracks, shaking your head lightly.
"It's nothing. Jus' had a nightmare, that's all," you whisper, still facing the hallway. The gaze of Steve is evident as it burns into your back. "But you have company. I'm just gonna leave." You furrow your brows, biting your lip to stop a shaky breath of air from escaping your mouth.
"It's just Bucky," Steve says softly. "Got a nightmare himself. Couldn't sleep," he explains.
The relief in your body is immediate, letting your tense shoulders fall down and breathing go back to normal. However close Steve and Bucky have been for their whole lives, you didn't realize they trusted each other enough to comfort each other like this. It's beautiful.
You nearly flinch as Steve's warm hand touches your shoulder, gently turning you around to meet his eyes.
"You've been crying," he says to himself as he observes your face. How he can see that in the darkness is beyond you, and still it's so very Steve. You nod, casting your gaze down to the floor.
"C'mere," Steve whispers, glancing back towards the bed. You shake your head softly, letting out a small breath through your mouth.
"But Bucky's there—"
"Bucky will be fine. You need to sleep," Steve says, leading you towards his enormous bed that could easily fit two more if he wanted to. "You're here for a reason, aren't you?"
The floor creaks underneath your feet as you reluctantly walk over to his enormous bed. How he afforded it, let alone fit it into the apartment, is a mystery that you have no energy to solve. Crying is much more draining than you remember it being. Your head is aching, mouth is dry, your skin cold to the touch.
Steve drapes his comforter over your shivering figure before climbing back into the bed. Even the thought of Bucky waking up, upset over the new addition in the bed he's laying in, doesn't hinder your heavy eyes from growing shut as you press yourself down further into the warm sheet. Your back is facing both of them, body scooted as close to the edge as you can, but only the presence of Steve a feet away from you is calming your erratic nerves down.
"We'll talk about what's bothering you when you've gotten some sleep," Steve tells you, his deep, husky voice sending shivers down your skin. "I know you don't usually have them. Nightmares, I mean."
"I don't," you answer him softly.
"Just—I...you know. You can always come here if you want to," he adds. "I don't mind. Having you here."
Whatever answer you could have for his words doesn't seem good enough for the kindness he shows you each time you lay eyes on him. His friendship is a blessing you could not fathom taking for granted, not when he invites you to intrude on his space like this when he doesn't even know what the reason is for your tears. It's nice to know that someone loves you like that.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
09:23. Friday morning. No classes. Much too quiet and much too empty in the loft. Both Sam and Natasha can agree on that as they lock eyes in the living room with raised eyebrows. By this time at least 4 out of 5 residents should have dragged their sleep deprived bodies out of their beds. The coffee machine should be on a constant loop. The TV should be buzzing in the background. Not a single sound can be heard except for their own breaths.
"Where the fuck is everybody?" Natasha seethes.
"Why are you asking me for?" Sam tells her, raising his coffee cup to his lips. "Don't know what they're up to. Sleeping in, probably."
"You know just as well as I that Steve doesn't wake up a minute past 7:00 if he can help it," she answers accusingly.
"You're looking at me like I did something. Why are you looking at me like that?" Sam asks, an amused glint in his eyes that only Sam Wilson can muster up in the morning.
Natasha scoffs, turning on her heel towards your room. If you slept in, it wouldn't surprise her in the least. It's just that she demands your company and if that means dragging you out of your cave of blankets and pillows, it will be done despite the risks. It just happens to be everyone's day off and it's raining outside and she wants you to bake her scones for breakfast.
Fucking empty. Your sheets are thrown to the floor, dimmed morning light pushing in through the gap between your curtains and the window. Natasha isn't one to fuss over things, not at all. She rarely even does so when there's a reason for it either. But your absence is quite unusual, after all. Especially this early in the morning, defined by your standards, of course.
"She's not here, Sam!" she shouts over her shoulder.
"Okay," he answers indifferently from the couch.
Natasha strolls into the living room again, running her hand through her red strands.
"She sleeping over somewhere secret, do you think?"
"Y/n?" Sam asks, as if the subject isn't obvious. "No. Bucky'd sing on fucking stage before that happens."
"Have a little faith in her, will you? It's not like she's entirely celibate," she scoffs.
"I know she isn't. Jus' that she's too scared to stay at some stranger's place. It's not like the three of you wouldn't text her every hour like overbearing parents if she did, either."
She scowls at him, picking up a pillow from the armchair to throw at his unsuspecting figure. Sam lets out an offended breath of air, flipping both of his fingers towards the redhead as he nods towards the coffee cup a few inches away from him.
"Don't talk like you wouldn't be all over it too. It's not our fault the girl's got no survival skills."
"Yeah, yeah," Sam sighs. "Go look for Bucky or something instead. I don't wanna talk to you anymore."
Sometimes there comes a moment when Natasha forgets why she is friends with Sam. Those moments also coincide with the urge to whack him in the head. Maybe break a bone or two. This moment is one of those.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Despite the blinds being shut, like each night before Steve goes to bed, the gloomy light still trickles into the room and casts shadows across the space. Some of them have reached you, dancing over your hair as the stray locks stick out from underneath the comforter. Another streak has landed on Bucky's arm, reflecting the light until it concentrates onto the wall opposite of him.
Somehow in his sleep, Steve has maneuvered you over his entire figure. He's certain you were perched onto the utmost corner of the bed when you fell asleep a few hours earlier. It did look like you were bound to fall off sooner or later during the night—maybe his subconscious knew that even in his sleep. At least that's the best reason he has for it, now that you're laying squeezed in between his and Bucky's bodies, both of their arms holding you tightly like you might slip away if their grip was any looser.
Normally Steve would shy away from the kind of intimacy this situation brings, having his friend so closely pressed to his figure. But it feels right. It feels right that you're laying in between him and Bucky, finding some peace after your nightmare left you thinking it was better to stay awake than to face whatever you saw in your sleep.
With Bucky he's used to the frantic fear in his eyes after a grueling flashback leaves him unable to rest his eyes again. It's been like that for years. Despite how sad it feels to say that he's become all too accompanied with his friend's pain, he was reminded of the near indifference he's developed against it when your tear-streaked face turned up in his doorway last night.
Steve was almost scared you had been hurt again. It feels like you've been it much too often these past few months. His absence during those moments still guilts him, keeps him awake for too long during those sleepless nights. Maybe he's overthinking it too much, because he knows it's not something you dwell on. It's not like you're holding any resentment against him for not being there, not at all, but that doesn't mean he will refrain from it himself.
He leans his head over his shoulder, squinting, as the door creaks open slowly. Strands of red hair peek through the cracks before he sees her face, but it's not hard to figure out that Natasha's the one with her fingers on the door handle. Her eyes flicker over the scene, rather suspiciously, before she even notices that Steve is looking at her just as curiously as well.
But she does feel the weight of his stare eventually, gaining eye contact with the blue-eyed gaze while raising questioning eyebrows herself.
"What are you doing?" she whispers through a seethe, eyes once more drawn to where Bucky has his arm draped over your waist. If it weren't for Steve's nearly supernatural hearing it would be hard to hear her whispers over Bucky's snoring.
Steve rubs his eyes, groaning quietly to himself, while glancing back at the two people behind him again. "They had nightmares," he answers huskily, voice still hoarse from the lack of use.
"Both of them?" she asks, a soft smirk on her lips that tells him she's not really believing it. Natasha often has theories or what not about feelings and crushes and things like that around the loft. But then again, she just as often pairs people up with strangers based on imaginary long glances or a smile thrown over their shoulders. It's not always true.
"Yes. Both of them," Steve repeats, flopping down onto the mattress once more. He is a patient person, but in the morning it takes a while for it to come to life. Having Nat interrogate him is not his ideal start to the day. "Now, please, Natasha. Let them sleep."
Another head pops inside, leans his hands against the doorway while stretching his torso until he towers over Nat. Sam's indifferent face turns into a smug grin, nodding towards Steve in approval.
"Looks like you got lucky. Twice."
"Lower your voice, please," Steve mutters, running his palm over his face.
"Nu-Uh," the man says, shaking his head in amusement while searching for Nat's gaze for what could only be approval. A 'you see this too, right?'
"Steven Grant Rogers." Sam flashes the gap in between his front teeth. "You saucy little minx!"
Even Natasha turns her head, sending a soft glare his way. It's still you he's talking about, still his friends.
"And Y/n too? I always thought Buck and you had something going on—"
"Samuel."
It's that tone—the one Steve uses whenever he's serious. Real serious. The one that carries such authority that it tells people he must have been a high-ranking military officer in a previous life. It never fails to shut Sam up. Sometimes even Bucky listens to it.
"Get out. I mean it—both of you."
Steve has resorted to sitting up, nodding towards the doorway with a cold stare and clenched jaw. It leaves the two of them nodding, wide-eyed, before scurrying out. The door is left open and abandoned for only a few seconds before a pale hand reaches for it, closing it as gently as she possibly can.
A loud sigh, hands running over his face, accompanied by a groan is what wakes you. Or you might have noticed some commotion during the awakening of your conscious mind, but the overbearing warmth you're surrounded with hasn't registered until now. Neither has Steve's half-naked body in the space you previously occupied, you were sure of it, or the feeling of Bucky's arm draped tightly over your waist. Everything is too hot and sweaty and close and, god, Bucky's entire front is pressed against your back.
The images from your nightmare flashes, attacks your sight, taunts you with what really is a memory. You thought it would help sleeping here, having the presence of Steve—your endlessly kind, strong, overbearing mother hen—right by your side. No one can corner you into the kitchen counter, put their hands on your skin and make you bleed when Steve is near. But it's still there, still making your ears ring with the thought of him. You need to leave.
Tangling Bucky's metal arm away from you, and the sheets, is suddenly the hardest thing ever and you're certain a minute passes by before you're crawling off the bed with rushed motions that must be as ungracious as it possibly can be.
"Morning. I'm sorry abo—what are you doing? Y/n?" Steve starts off with a tired yawn, rubbing his eyes awake, before his voice quickly falters into confusion while watching you scramble off in a hurry.
You run your hands over your face, feet meeting the cold surface of Steve's mat-less floors. How incredibly humiliating all of this is, coming to Steve's room after a nightmare for consolation like a child. Curling up to an unknowing Bucky in his sleep—he'd positively panic if he woke to your figure pressed against him right now—and most definitely Steve as well. Oh god, did you roll over him in your sleep? Did he wake up while you did so? And Nat and Sam saw you too. You feel like you might cry again.
"Hi. I'm—I have to go," you force out of yourself as you hastily walk towards the door, lacking the courage or dignity to look him in the eye. "Good night. Morning."
And he sits there, all silent and stunned and half-tempted to go after you. Only a few hours earlier, when you'd come into his room with soft steps and a just as gentle voice, he thought he'd made it clear there was nothing to be ashamed about. He thought he had made that clear about everything in your friendship.
But now he sees your figure disappear out into the hallway. The t-shirt he's pretty sure you stole from someone in this loft is old and disheveled and exposes the delicate lace of your underwear. Your hair is messy in the way it always is after you've had a particularly good night of sleep. And maybe that is some sort of comfort, to know that you've at least slept good while you laid in his bed, but your obvious discomfort now overshadows it.
Steve's not really sure what to do except attempt to rub his eyes awake, letting the cool autumn air engulf his exposed skin. He's still acutely aware of Bucky's sleeping presence next to him. The poor guy must have been traumatized by the dream—he never sleeps this long. But maybe the addition of you next to him lulled him into a deeper sleep.
Steve's not sure and he's conflicted and he's also scared. Because he's not supposed to feel this way, like the bed is so, so empty when you're not there anymore. And his heart feels much too big for his chest while it simultaneously feels a little cracked, seeing you so evidently broken from whatever happened in your subconscious last night.
When he looks at the clock, six minutes have passed since you left. He's sure he spent at least half an hour pondering. The floor is cold as it meets his bare feet, creaking underneath the weight of him while he makes his way out of his room. He tugs at his pants, trying to rid himself of his half-hard dick he always wakes up with. It's not something he wants to confront you with.
Sam and Natasha sit quietly in the kitchen over their breakfast, giving each other glances that tell a conversation on their own. They don't even have to say it out loud, what they're speculating over. Steve feels their stares even as he passes by within a second.
He doesn't bother knocking on your door, even if it makes him feel like a douchebag. The voice of his mother nags at him in the back of his mind as he steps inside of your dark room. You've buried yourself underneath two blankets and a comforter, and mostly Steve thinks that he would combust by the heat if he did the same.
The remaining space in his thoughts is taken up by the sound of your sobs. Muffled by the thick layers of fabric around you, but Steve hears them all the same. And he sighs—not because he's disappointed or annoyed or tired, but because it's heartbreaking.
Your bed dips underneath the weight of Steve, a safe distance between you that alerts you to his presence softly. You knew he'd come after you. It's just the way Steve is.
"Hey, hey, sweetheart. It's okay, 's just me," Steve says softly, reaching out for you by unwrapping the layers.
You let him. How could you not? You cry even harder. It's too hard keeping it all in.
"Come here, honey."
His arms effortlessly lift you up, forces you to sit before brushing the sweaty strands of hair away from your face. There's probably snot running down your nose and hulking noises making their way out of your mouth. All you can focus on is that your head pounds and throat aches.
"Come back to my room, will you? Please, Y/n?" he speaks into your hair, holding you to his chest while letting your tears soak his skin.
You nod in answer. Stupid, convincing Steve. So perfect. It makes you mad. Why couldn't he just be an idiot enough to let you be? Why does he have to make things better just by saying a few words, holding you to his stupidly muscly chest? It almost makes you sob harder.
"You're so annoying," you say through your tears, clinging onto him as he lifts you with an ease that doesn't scare you anymore. You don't know why he's this strong.
"That's right, sweetheart," he says, hands under your thighs and eyes on the path in front of him.
Steve feels more at ease as soon as he enters his own room. Even if it only took half a minute to walk through the hallway, past the kitchen and his friends' curios stares, your sobs have died down into sniffles.
You're a stubborn person. But only sometimes—in some cases it only takes two tries, two encouragements to make you budge. You fled earlier, embarrassed by your own emotions, but now you're curled up in Steve's arms in his bed again.
"Listen or help?" Steve whispers, his nose buried in your hair as you sit with your back to his chest.
Those words alone make the thickness in your throat grow. "Listen. Just listen this time."
Steve strokes your hair, runs his fingers over your scalp. How did he become such a good man? Who taught him to be like this?
"What made you this upset, Y/n?"
A big intake of breath and two sniffles. "I'm angry," you tell him. "I'm so fucking angry that he—he did that me. That guy just thought he had some right to...I said no so many times."
Steve tightens his hold on you. He didn't know you still thought about it this much. He does, all the time. It happened just a few rooms away from him and he didn't notice. It's not his fault, he repeats to himself in his head.
"And right after he had been with Nat too! Couldn't he just have stayed with her a few hours? She deserves better than that. I know she was the best sex of that fucking guy's poor life." A hiccup. Sniffle again. "I must be irresistible or something..."
"Sure are," Steve whispers, a smile sneaking up on his face. You sink into him even further, allowing him to bury you in his touch.
"I want to cut off his balls, or something. Or—or send an angry letter to his mom so she won't invite him to the family gatherings anymore. Won't give him any presents on Christmas."
A silent snort escapes Steve's nose. It manages to crack the smallest smile on your lips, even though the tears have yet to dry on your cheeks.
"Actually, I hope that he'll become a worm in his next life and that some three-year old drives over him with their tricycle. No, wait! I—god, I'm being so loud right now."
You sigh, burying your face into Steve's bare chest with a tired giggle as you feel it vibrate along with his own silent laughter.
"I'm sorry. I'm gonna wake him up if I'll—he's gonna panic." The giggles fade out into a frown as you sit up straight, creating distance between you and Steve. "I should—"
"C'mere and shut up, will you?" the newly woken voice of Bucky mutters, face down in the pillows and eyes closed.
You nearly flinch, head turning so abruptly you could have broken your neck. Almost. Bucky's left arm reaches out, fumbles for your waist while Steve looks down fondly at the two of you.
"Shit," you breathe out. "I'm so sorry, Bucky. I didn't mean to wake you."
"Sweets, haven't slept this long in forever. Why'd you think that is, huh?" Bucky mumbles, to the point where you can't make the words out until you've gone over them a few times in your head. And then he has the nerve to use that effortless strength he possesses to pull you down. Right next to him.
Bucky doesn't talk like this, doesn't act like this—at least not nowadays. Not with you. It scares you almost as much as it warms you, sends tingles into your anxious stomach. Sometimes you think about that letter he wrote you. I can whisk you off into the sunset if that's what you want. As long as I don't have to wait fifteen years for it. Now is one of those moments.
He's so warm against you, actually both of them are so warm. And you don't like warmth very much but it's something you'll withstand in moments like these. You can't remember now why you panicked when you woke up with Steve and Bucky around you.
For Bucky, the truth is that he's too tired to filter his thoughts before they make it out of his mouth. He hasn't slept in days, and that over eight hours of peacefulness have passed now is not a coincidence. Bucky heard you come in, heard you even before you stepped inside Steve's room. He'd only been laying with his eyes closed until the bed sunk underneath your weight. Went out like a baby only a few minutes after.
It bothered him too much for his own good when you left in a hurry before. Because he had just woken up, just noticed the feeling of your body pressed up against his. And he felt the tremble in your voice in his very bones as you fled away.
"You don't have to hide your feelings, y'know?" he mumbles, nose pressed against your shoulder. He feels the stare of Steve on him. "Not with us."
"You hold so much in, Y/n. It's not healthy," Steve adds, fingers still fiddling with your hair. "Just let us do the hard work this time. It's been long enough of you tending to everyone else."
Those words—you haven't heard them before. You haven't believed them before. That you're a caretaker is not something that is obvious to you. You don't even see how much time you spend on making things good for everyone in this apartment.
"You’re my best friends. You know that, right?" you whisper with your hoarse voice.
Bucky holds you a little tighter to him. Steve bends down, much too low to be comfortable, and presses a kiss to your head. He's an old soul. So is Bucky, in a way.
"Yeah, yeah," Bucky mutters, but you can almost feel the smile he's hiding. You know he cares.
"Buck," Steve chastises, but he doesn't really know what for. Maybe because the jerk never knows how to process someone showing affection towards him. "You should take it easy today. Let us take care of you. Can you do that for us, Y/n?"
There's this special way Steve says your name. It holds kindness in it, kindness in a way that you've never allowed yourself to feel except for when the syllables of your name is uttered from his mouth.
So you close your eyes, humming lightly in answer while letting the mattress encompass you, claim you as its captive and hold you there for eternity. Or at least until your back starts to hurt or your legs start to tingle from their lack of use.
"Go back to sleep, sweets. 'M here. Won't let anyone hurt you," Bucky says under his breath, almost like the words are a subconscious afterthought more than a choice. From his very bones, on the verge of sleep.
It's quick—your descent into a sleep once more. The faint sound of Steve's breathing echoes through the room, lulls you further into unconsciousness. But you want him too. Not just sitting there, watching you and Bucky sleep. Steve deserves rest just as much, if not more, for sacrificing his own bed for the sake of your comfort.
"Steve," you whisper. "Steve."
Your hand fumbles for him blindly. A few seconds is all it takes before rough fingers clasp around yours.
"Lie down with us, Stevie."
The straws of his blonde hair tickle your cheek as he settles himself, glides down from his seat until he's face to face with you. You don't have the courage to open your eyes.
It's different. Has been for a while. None of you wants to acknowledge it, barely even to yourselves, even as you all lie together in the same bed.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
"They're doing it, right?"
"They're so doing it. A month, tops."
"20 on three weeks."
"Deal."
Sam and Natasha shake hands over the breakfast table, solidifying their own suspicion into a bet they both will shamelessly try to affect. It's ridiculously obvious. Idiots, the three of you.
#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#marvel fic#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers x reader#sam wilson x reader#marvel college au#natasha romanoff x reader#steve rogers angst#Steve Rogers smut#Bucky Barnes smut#Stark U
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the thing about armand in tva is we know from the start exactly when he dictating this book to david and why. he's doing it for benji and sybelle - the latter in particular, so much so he says david should title it 'song for sybelle'. he has no real idea of it being published beyond that, and the epilogue is specifically written at a later time, so the hopeful tone he has about 'his kids' (sybelle is literally a grown woman, but whatever that's how he thinks of her) throughout the book can be contrasted with his horrified reaction to their fates at the close.
we know he's telling the version of his past he wants benji and sybelle to know. the point is so they can know how much meeting them meant to him, not to necessarily give them a comprehensive view of his life. i mean he spends almost the whole book on a couple years of his life despite being centuries old. and if you compare it to marius's account of their time in venice in blood and gold, armand is purposefully leaving out how unhappy he was at times during that period. to be clear, i definitely don't think marius is a more trustworthy source than armand, but i also don't think he has a reason to lie, because marius often comes off worse in his version of events and in many of the events described he was able to read armand's mind. in tva armand spends little time on how his loss of memories impacted his day to day life, but marius spends a lot of time talking about the distress this caused armand and how it made him physically ill. armand paints marius as turning him only to save his life, but marius is very explicit about the fact he decided to turn armand the day they met and he was just waiting until armand had matured some (which, fwiw is more in line with what others like louis said in previous books when recounting what armand told them of his past). he doesn't share how he was initially distraught after being turned and unable to confide in bianca, nor does he spend time describing how he secretly told her about vampires and marius's true nature. he doesn't recount at all a rift forming between he and marius after they visited armand's homeland (though this one i am possibly more inclined to believe might be marius exaggerating, because he can no longer read armand's mind, and i can imagine marius possibly growing more distant from armand in a way he might not register). nevertheless, armand confesses he hated marius at times as the centuries passed, but generally paints a much more harmonious picture of his life in marius's household than marius does. part of this i do think is armand selectively remembering to shield himself from the horror of what he lived through, but part of it i do think is that these events simply don't serve the narrative he's crafting for benji and sybelle. he wants benji and sybelle to know he was an outsider and had conflicted religious feelings, he doesn't really spend as much time talking about how much he missed his father. he talks about the horrors of living through the children of satan's onslaught, but doesn't talk about how the night before he and marius were having another argument about turning bianca into a vampire, because armand couldn't bear the thought of her dying and hated deceiving her. his shifting feelings on the idea of fledglings don't factor into what he's trying to tell two of them, because the thought they'd ever need to think about taking the dark gift doesn't occur to him.
he actually highlights how benji and sybelle enjoy the riches and mortal luxuries he gives them unlike daniel, but they've only been together a few weeks. daniel and armand were together for a decade. it's not really a reasonable comparison. but he wants this to be a happy ending, telling benji and sybelle why their lives with him are different and special. their love is different from any other love he's had and that's why their bond is unbreakable. armand quite literally tried to kill himself a few weeks ago, i just cannot buy that his life has totally turned around like he describes.
his happiness reeks of mania to me - he's made benji and sybelle his new reasons for living so he has a reason why it was good his attempted suicide failed. he emphasizes how much they love him and vice versa to let them know how appreciative he is. he even says sybelle is the first mortal to say 'i love you' to him, even though we know from the devil's minion daniel said it to him (and presumably more than once, given it's said as part of a summary of things daniel would often say during arguments). but that relationship has soured. so that love doesn't count. he is similarly bitter and petty when describes his relationship with louis, who we know he passionately loved. he's just not in a space where he feels good about any of his past great loves. he gives them both like, a few pages in the tome of his life - even though he and louis spent a lifetime together and he let his entire coven be destroyed and committed horrors so they could run away together. even though he broke a vow he clung to centuries purely for the love of daniel and told him he wouldn't have cared about about the apocalypse a few years ago, but now he felt differently because he had daniel. i don't think that slim page count or his catty insults means they weren't actually central figures in his life. the basic facts of what he did for them contradicts that. rather, to me it indicates the hurt is still very raw and he doesn't want to get into it and think about the ways he's still upset about what happened when this is a song for sybelle, an ode how parental love fixed his heart. not about how he's still smarting. even with lestat, who he is the most tender with as he desperately misses him, he still can't help but be snarky and reference to how lestat always spurned him. he alludes to the fact he has hated marius, but spares benji and sybelle the details because to much would interfere with the idyllic 'before' he wants venice to be, and after all they know marius at this time and have already started staying with him at the time david has him start this project. they don't need to get into that.
none of the narrators in tvc are without agenda and biases - that's part of the fun! but i do think it's notable that armand's in particular is given this very specific framing in a way most of the books aren't, and i do think that's done to contrast his tone of voice when he's telling the story to his mortal kids of how they saved him from his suicidal despair vs the resignation that he has in the epilogue when he realizes he's lost the life he'd just spent the last several hundred pages hyping as his drive into the sunset moment.
#this started a post about how i don't think it's fair to use tva to downplay loumand or devil's minion#as i have seen some fans of [redacted] ship do#(i am certainly biased as i love loumand and devil's minion but i also think i'm right)#and turned into a longer musing about#what events armand chose to include in his book and what he didn't#like. he really skates over the majority of his life. because that's not for benji and sybelle. he wants them to know him#but not to be known#iwtv#kaitlin speaks
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BATMAN | BAT FAMILY (assorted canon)
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“Long Overdue” (Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)
| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on an ambush when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.
| SFW, canon typical action, Reader & Bruce are divorced, -angry!reader & Caribbean-American!Reader (kinda)
| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source: Gotham Knights video game)
| 1k+ words
| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven. (series masterlist)
“Baaats!”
At Dick’s pointed tone, thrown across the battlefield as he’s cornered by six of Black Mask’s and Penguin’s combined men, Bruce clenches his teeth harder.
“Ah shit.” Jason throws one goon into two more with a grunt. “If golden boy’s getting panicky, what’s that mean for the rest of us?”
Dick takes two guys out with an escrima stick.
“Har har, Hood.”
Jason shrugs from the other side of the factory floor, looking increasingly more frustrated and likely to abandon Bruce’s ‘no gun’ stipulation for their shared mission as he’s ganged up on.
“This really isn’t looking good, Bats.”
Barbra’s voice coming into his earpiece just adds to the steady growth of gray hairs on his head. Bruce brings his hands up to block the swing of a crowbar from a man wearing a crude approximation of Black Mask’s face.
“Give me a status update, Oracle.”
“To put it eloquently? You’re fucked.”
Her forced glibness makes Dick throw out another pointed call of his name and Jason cackle. Bruce just sighs.
“What are you suggesting?”
He regrets asking immediately after he does at Barbara's next words.
“Well, with Batgirl away, Robin out, and Gordon and the rest of the GCPD running interference to keep the victims away from Mask’s remaining men I’m saying you hit the emergency backup button.”
Bruce grunts as he goes down to swipe two mens’ feet from under them, cape swishing in a low arc behind him and then catching the air as he pushes himself up and punches another out.
“No.”
There’s a groan in his earpiece.
“I really think now’s the time to practice the humility we’ve been working on, B!”
“I wish you luck with that,” Jason grunts before a quiet: “Fuck it.”
Bruce braces himself for the onslaught of bullets from his second son when the sound of the large skyline window shattering echoes around the spacious room. A figure drops in following the cascade of glass.
The whole room seems to pause, then, during which the figure rises out of their crouch.
“Oh holy shit,” falls past Jason's mouth before they start moving.
In the rush of the night and with the distance between the last time he saw you, Jason might not recognize your voice, but Bruce does immediately.
“Oracle! Explain, now.”
Barbara’s voice is unbothered as she speaks.
“First, the next time you demand an answer from me you can do your own recon, and Second, you need the help so I don’t want to hear it.”
“Yeah Bruce,” your voice in his ear causes him to take an unceremonious hit to the abdomen. “Respect the woman. She’s the reason I’m over here saving your pompous ass.”
As Bruce backtracks from the man and catches the guy's leg when he goes to kick him, you’re already moving. You dodge in and out of groups of men, using your momentum to get them on the ground and not letting them get back up.
He throws his assailant to the floor.
“I thought you said you didn’t want anything to do with Gotham?”
You kick a woman into him and he catches and electrocutes her before dropping her to the ground.
“I said that about you not Gotham, and Nightwing’s here so I had to come,” you counter.
Bruce grunts as you get low to strike a man in the knee caps with your baton and then bowl him over.
Nightwing and you end up back to back between one blink and the next and Bruce can already feel a headache coming on as he takes out four more goons.
“I for one am very happy you're here, Nightfall.”
Jason snorts from off to the side, already spurred back into action, but blessedly with his guns holstered, and punches a person's nose in.
The crunch reverberates over the coms.
“Of course your name’s Nightfall. You fit right goddamn in.”
You laugh, it makes his heart clench. It’s been almost a year since the last time he saw you well (he’d seen you at Stephanie’s funeral but you’d fervently ignored him), and the last full conversation you’d had hadn’t exactly ended amicably between the two of you.
It’s like it’s five years ago - back when you still worked together - as the fight begins to rapidly turn in their favor. Where the droves of goons had seemed endless minutes ago they were now getting smaller and sloppier.
You were an unexpected obstacle and Bruce’s sure whatever sorry canon fodder Mask and Pinguine had scrounged up weren’t old enough to know who you were, let alone how to anticipate how you fought.
Hell, Bruce had grown familiar with you over the course of several years and the night you left your hit had still managed to catch him off guard.
It’s as things are slowing down that the other side throws their own curveball. A shot rings out, it’s not Jason’s, and then all of a sudden you’re a blur in front of him as you shove Hood out of the way.
Bruce’s breath catches in his throat when a pained whimper comes from one of you and he’s running before he’s fully realized it, Dick at his side.
He stops and kneels next to the two of you, quickly assessing that the bullet meant for Jason is now embedded in your arm. The compromise in your suit should make seeing the skin underneath easy but the bullet wound gushes crimson over whatever brown that could’ve been showing. The only good part was that Bruce could also see an exit wound. He doesn’t think as he reaches out.
You knock his hands away, “I’m fine, Bats.”
“You’re bleeding,” he forces out.
Even behind the mask the look you shoot him is nasty.
“I’m fully well aware,” you stretch out your shoulder and wince before forcing yourself to your feet. “I’m competent enough to tell that much.”
“I never said you weren’t.”
He watches you split your attention between him and a now getting up Hood.
“Oh, but aren’t you always on some holier than thou bullshit?”
Your voice turns sickly sweet and Bruce sighs.
“Now’s not the time for your petulance, you need to get that checked.”
Holding your arm you slowly turn fully to him with a tilt of your head.
“Excuse me?”
Bruce clenches his eyes shut and forces himself to stop reacting and to start thinking. He’s not going to get you anywhere if he makes you feel stupid. Talking to you like he does the kids has never once worked (and if he was being honest with himself it didn’t work on them either), he’s just operating on emotion.
When he opens his eyes again you're still staring at him, hip cocked and the weight of your glare firmly in place. No distance, it seemed, was going to stop him from being able to read you.
He doesn’t get a chance to speak before snickering distracts everyone though.
As a collective you, him, and Dick turn towards where Jason is struggling to contain himself. He waves you all off.
“No no, don’t mind me. I’m just enjoying someone not treating B like he’s God for once.”
Off to the side Dick starts to grumble before you move to watch Jason. Your point is almost accusatory as you indicate the gun clad man with no affiliate insignia on his chest.
“Who are you again?”
It’s mean, your tone icy as you look him up and down.
Jason stops laughing.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean, lady?”
You and the 19 year old go rigid as you stare one another down. Jason looks like he’s about to get vindictive any second and you look seconds away from tearing him and Bruce a new asshole, never mind that you just took a bullet for him.
It’s Dick, as per usual, who saves them all.
“Alright, how about we all just take a breath. Batman needs to go deal with the cops, who according to Oracle have finally gotten here. Nightfall it was nice to have you back, however briefly. And Hood, chill.” From where he’s planted himself between you and Jason he mimics taking a deep breath. “Everybody just chill.”
As the both of you start gearing up to go Bruce finds his voice.
“You should all come down to the cave to get checked up,” his jaw clenches. “Please.”
“Mm,” you purse your lips, arms shaking as you scoff but otherwise (thank god) nod your head. “Fine. I could stand seeing Agent A and Robin again.”
You stare at him hard afterwards and Bruce wants to say something but the words lodge at the base of his throat again and even clearing it doesn’t help. Eventually you clap Nightwing on the back before sighing and sliding close to him to press the call button for the Batmobile that’s on his belt yourself.
The indicator sounds and the easy peel of the tires moving around a corner follows your departure as you walk out the exit not swarming with police and hop into the vehicle.
He wasn’t able to say what he wanted but the thought of you in the Batmobile makes him feel warm enough. Now if only-
“Hood?”
Jason only stares at him and Bruce finds himself at a loss, a feeling that’s becoming familiar when around his son. He wants to get that limp checked out like it’ll personally improve his own health, along with whatever other ailments Jason’s managed to acquire running around on his own.
‘Like he would’ve been today if he hadn’t been desperate enough to cave and call,’ something whispers in his head.
Jason had the situation handled initially, and so close to the outskirts of the city Bruce hadn’t even known this transaction was happening at all, he didn’t have to bring them in on it and Bruce is certain he wouldn’t have if getting the kids to safety hadn’t been Jason’s top priority.
Dick waves his grappling gun, “I’ll race you there.”
Jason scoffs, only a domino masking his identity because he’d been forced to blow his helmet up in a last ditch effort to get Bruce’s attention.
”I’m not a child,” but then he looks at the Batmobile and his stance becomes just that much more open. He points a challenging finger at Dick. “But I definitely don’t want to be stuck in a closed space with Nightfall either, so you’re on, Goldy.”
The two of them swing off together making all sorts of noise and the vice around Bruce’s heart loosens a little. Everyone was secured.
“You didn’t tell her, did you?”
Bruce grunts as he advances towards Gordon.
“I was busy.”
Barbara scoffs, “Even my professors don’t take excuses like that B, don’t give me that. She deserves to know.”
“She’s here now. I’ll tell her eventually.”
“Mhm, sure,” she intones. “You have until you get back.”
Bruce doesn’t get to argue with her before the woman logs off.
…TBC
NOTES: Hope you enjoyed! This is part one of a series. Mind any typos I’ll get to them eventually.
#bruce wayne#batman#black!reader#black y/n#black!batmom#•long overdue (the series)#batman x black!reader#bruce wayne x black!reader#Caribbean!Reader#batman x batmom#divorced!batmom#batman imagine#batmom & jason todd#bruce wayne imagine#batfamily imagine#batfamily x batmom#batfamily x reader#batfamily x black!reader#batmom x jason todd#batmom angst#batman angst#bruce wayne angst#batmom!reader
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international women’s day: it’s been weighing on my mind and I want more people to know
years ago I watched a video titled “the top 10 most beautiful children in the world!” and saw images flash of little girls with perfect hair and boys with double rows of eye lashes. I was suprised, just like everyone else, by a pair of twin girls with stunning eyes.
(I will not be providing the images or names of these girls because I do not want to direct traffic to their pages and let those bots know it’s working but we’re getting ahead of ourselves)
Fast forward like eight years. I’m studying on websites that need ads to be free and watching YouTube videos with image ads on the side. And you know who I see?
those girls. Pictures of their faces with links titled “these were the most beautiful girls in the world, see them all grown up” or “what they look like now”. And I’m used to seeing ads like these, with sketchy and sexual and inappropriate titles, usually with neck up photos of the faces of women I know are objectified often on the internet (Brooke monk, Margot Robbie in that one wolf of Wall Street scene). So I’m disgusted and have to move on because . . . Well that’s just how the internet treats women, especially those with the audacity to be beautiful. As objects.
But it had been ten years, I thought. These girls are probably in their early 20s, have control of their lives and profit. I wanted to see what they were doing, seeing what could’ve warranted such an onslaught of pervy ads online.
(I do not mean that women have to be doing something to deserve to be objectified or ever ‘deserve’ to be. I just wanted to see if this was like, people were taking stalker like photos of them walking around because they recognized them or if the two made a career out of it)
so I open Instagram and put in their names. Their page and bio makes it clear the two are now influencer adjacent. Tik toks, fashion lines, etc. I also notice there’s quite a lot of swimming suit photos.
I googled their names to check how old they were. They looked 16 or 17 in the photos and that alone made me very uncomfortable because it was clear this was a controlled social media account by a team.
remember how I said “fast forward 8 years” and “it’s been 10 years” since I saw them as fifth graders? I thought it had been long enough for them to be adults by now. But no. These girls, famous on the internet for their beauty, with a controlled social page where out of the initial 12 photos you’re given, there are 7 swim suit photos that show a ton of their skin-
Are 13 years old.
Let that sink in. Sit back and just let that register. Consider every disgusting possibility, every connotation, consider everything.
Because we all know from every underage singer dating an older man, every news story we get of disappearing little girls, every statistic of human trafficking that whatever we think could be happening likely is.
celebrate international women’s day with our sisters. And please stay vigilant for what could possibly be the next headline
#international women's day#feminism#ramblings#it’s just so messed up and people have to know what’s going on#I’ve been stewing about it for a while#pls reblog
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the children of ansel ( in birth order ) as written about in a journal kept by ansel’s bedside.
eleanor tomlinson as merewina ( merrie ) dragenson nee anseldottir.
and though she came first, she never stood with superiority. her mother’s daughter through & through, merrie became the heart of the pack; beloved sister, cherished friend. it was she who would heal the wounded and feed the hungry. she who would teach the children how to read. though born a wolf, merrie rarely turned and yet, inner wolf was never clearer in the fierce loyalty she displayed everyday. the same loyalty that saw her die at mikael’s hand, shielding families from his onslaught.
joseph morgan as niklaus ( klaus ) mikaelson.
each full moon drew me closer to klaus. it was undeniable; a strong, stubborn bond that i could not shake, no matter how much esther insisted i must. the call of my own was loud & i yearned to be near him, to raise him, to teach him. i waited for the day he would trigger his curse & need me, but that day never came. the pack was never complete without him. i was never complete without him. i should’ve done more. this insert includes many hand - drawn pictures of a young niklaus, sketched by ansel’s own hands.
eysteinn sigurdarson as cadman anselson.
born two minutes & seven seconds before his twin sister, and rest assured, he never let goldiva forget. cadman stood with the confidence of an alpha before he could even truly understand the meaning of the word. i watch him lead warriors into victory after victory, and he did so with a valiance not even i myself possess. he did not marry nor have children, and he believed that made him a stronger leader for it gave him nothing to lose. perhaps he was right. though nothing like his namesake, i feel in my bones father caedmon would’ve felt honour in knowing my son fought with his legacy.
thea soie loch naess as goldiva anseldottir.
and should anyone ever doubt goldiva’s place on the battlefield, they certainly never lived to make that mistake twice. my daughter was born with fire in her eyes & a wolf in her heart / claws already sharpened for war. she embraced the change on her eighteenth birthday, underneath the blood moon and standing side by side cadman, neither ever truly apart from the day they arrived together. i fear cadman struggled without her when she died at mikael’s hand and he did not. it turns out he did have something to lose after all.
harrison osterfield as ricmann ( ric ) anselson.
ricmann was a quiet child and he remained so throughout life. the boy seemed more interested in nature than people, whispering words to the injured birds while nursing their broken wing. he would spend hours with the plants, tending to vegetables. though his name meant the power to rule, he grew up a gentle soul, burdened by the weight of the moon in the sky. i could see the pressure he felt to follow in his sibling’s footsteps. i hope he knew i would’ve loved him regardless. it was a conversation we never got the chance to share before mikael slew us both.
freya allen as hildegyth anseldottir.
the youngest girl of a large family. i think it bothered her sometimes; too often mistaken for a child when she was so desperate to grow up as fast as possible. she became the perfect combination of us all, carrying herself with the softness found in ricmann's heart, but fighting with cadman’s spirit if ever required. overcame obstacles with determination that could only be learnt from goldiva, yet in turn, won many villager’s admiration with that same ability to love i saw in merrie. it was as if we took the best parts of us and gave them to her. she wasn’t just a wolf. she was a force and those that underestimated her, soon realised the error of their ways. hildegyth survived mikael and i watched over her as she raised merewina’s daughter as her own. because of her, our legacy lives on.
unseen in this gifset as beowulf anselson.
our littlest wolf. beowulf came to us as a miraculous surprise, born on a cold winter’s morning, with sif clutching my hand. we loved him dearly in the short time we had together as a family, and though i know he struggled to remember us as i watched him grow from the other side, i do not regret dying to ensure his survival. my approach distracted mikael long enough for brida to run, beowulf tucked safely in her arms. i died knowing he was in safe hands.
#in character. ⸻ edits.#you were born to create. ⸻ children of the north.#family!!!!!!!!!!#i introduce u to... klaus' half siblngs#i am obsessed with every single one
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