#god another conversation I feel like I keep having: saying something isn’t effective or is harmful and in response people assume you’re | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-cacophony-of-silent-words · 6 months

Text

Still Breathing Part One: Into The Tiger's Den

Chapter 5: Homecoming

Whining is not something Bruce has ever been particularly good at dealing with, so of course both his sons have perfected their skills in exactly that. He knows he’s been something of an enabler over the years, giving in when they just won’t stop and he feels overwhelmed. Alfred’s always been better at putting his foot down, particularly when they’re injured. God, Bruce wishes Alfred were here right now, but he left an hour ago. So Bruce is stuck dealing with this on his own.

“I want to go home, Bruce.” Jason flails as much as his injuries will allow, which isn’t much but it has the desired effect. “How long are those quacks going to keep me here? It’s been months!”

It’s been two weeks.

“I miss Alfred and Dick and the manor! I miss Dick’s stupid dog jumping right in the middle of me every goddamn morning! I miss my room! …Bruce. Bruce, I miss homework! Get me out of here before I go completely crazy! You’ll have to lock me up in Arkham! I’ll become a new villain to rival the likes of Kite Man and Killer Moth! You’ll have to call me Homework Man or something.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose in a futile attempt to stave off the latest in a series of headaches, Bruce tries, “They want to keep you for a while longer, Jason. It’s only reasonable, son, you almost died. Just… try to bear with it.”

“Like hell.” Jason pouts, crossing his uninjured arm over his chest and looking away. This should be a triumph. It’s the first time since the incident that Jason’s been well enough to pout, but all Bruce can do is groan.

“Wow, you can just feel the cheeriness in this room all the way down the hall, I swear.” The only time Bruce has ever been happier to see Dick was the last time he saved Bruce’s literal life.

Jason seems less enthused. “Great, the cavalry’s arrived.”

“Hey, I heard you say you missed me, kiddo, you don’t get to take that back.” Dick laughs when Jason makes a face.

“Oh, shut up, Dickface.” Jason grumbles as Dick sits on the edge of the hospital bed.

“Don’t talk to your brother like that,” Bruce scolds, knowing it’s useless the moment he opens his mouth. He doesn’t know why he bothers.

Sure enough Jason is disappointingly unfazed. He just raises an eyebrow at Bruce before turning his attention back to Dick. “Convince him I’m well enough to go home.”

“You’re asking the wrong person there, Little Wing,” Dick answers, though there’s a hint of sympathy in his voice despite his refusal. “If it were up to me you wouldn’t be going anywhere for another six months.”

Jason sighs, dramatically, a talent he’s nurtured quite admirably throughout his time as Robin. “Ugh! Get me Babs or Alfred! We need someone with some real sense in here!”

“They’d tell you the same thing, Jay.” Dick says, patiently. “Being homesick doesn’t mean you’d recover any faster at the manor.”

“Doesn’t mean I’d recover any slower, either!”

Bruce mainly tunes them out as they continue their argument. Jason’s not ready to go home yet, no matter how he protests. Worse, Bruce isn’t sure he’ll be properly equipped to care for Jason at home yet. Jason hasn’t shown any hints of psychological trauma from the incident thus far, but he’s regrettably good at hiding such things until they reach a breaking point. He’s been practicing that since long before he came to live with Bruce and it’s something he’s stubbornly clung to despite Bruce and Alfred's best efforts. It’s something that’ll be difficult to navigate around if--

“Why do you even care?” Jason snaps, abruptly, and something in his tone brings Bruce’s attention immediately back to the conversation happening in front of him. There’s a tension in Jason’s shoulders, a set to his jaw, and just an over all air that Bruce is not a fan of. God they do not need Jason and Dick at each other’s throats again. He needs to step in now before it explodes.

But when he looks over at Dick, he pauses. Because Dick is calm. Not calm before the storm. More Dick Grayson with a plan calm. He glances at Bruce for a moment, but just speaks to Jason. “Because that’s what brothers are supposed to do right? Care about each other? So why don’t you tell me why it’s so important to go home right now, instead of say, in a week?”

It takes a moment, Jason’s face going through a range of expressions before it all finally explodes. “Because I hate it here! All I can do is think and think and remember and it’s all driving me over the fucking edge, Dick! I fall asleep and I wake up and there’s… what if… And I just… I…”

Dick is faster to react than Bruce, carefully wrapping his arms around Jason before the tears really start to fall. Letting Jason cling to him and murmuring a gentle, “Shh, it’s okay, Jay, it’s okay. I got you.”

With a strangled sound, somewhere between a sob and a hiccup, Jason buries his face in Dick’s shoulder. Jason never cries, never lets himself show emotions like this at all. Bruce grips Jason’s shoulder with one hand and winces a bit when Jason’s hand leaves Dick’s back to grab Bruce’s wrist tightly. In the silence that follows Bruce finally understands. It’s more than boredom, more than homesickness.

After several hitching breaths, each deeper than the last, Jason mumbles, “Please… Please just take me home.”

“…They might insist on keeping you for a few more days,” Bruce says as softly as he knows how, exchanging a look with Dick over the top of Jason’s head. “But… with Alfred’s medical training, they might allow it. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Okay… okay.” Slowly, bit by bit Jason’s grip on Bruce and Dick loosens until he’s let go entirely.

Reluctantly, Bruce lets go as well and Dick follows suit.

Bruce makes his way to the door slowly watching out of the corner of his eyes as Dick gently ruffles Jason’s hair and says something, low and quiet. Something that makes Jason laugh. Bruce pauses in the doorway, just for a moment. Just to take in the sight of his boys. His sons. He's still not sure what he did right for the universe to bring them into his life. He sighs and leaves the doorway to begin his arduous task. There's going to be a lot of paperwork.

The towering face of Wayne Manor has never looked so good. It’s home. Jason’s coming home! He missed it so much. If asked he’d never be able to describe the joy welling up in his chest at seeing Alfred standing in the open door. He can’t wait to get inside, back to his room and his books. He can’t wait to eat Alfred’s cooking again! It’s been forever since he had something that didn’t taste like rubber and grossness. Alfred couldn’t make something as nasty as hospital food if he tried!

A joyful bark announces Ace only seconds before the huge German Shepherd bounds out of the bushes and slides to stop a few feet away. He circles them for a moment, lowering his head, sniffing at the wheelchair. Jason just shakes his head at the antics. This dog is supposed to be a trained guard dog, but he’s always been more of a goof ball. Apparently satisfied that the chair isn’t very interesting, Ace yips happily then, before Bruce can stop him, hooks his front legs over the right side of the chair – Jason’s uninjured side by some coincidence – and starts desperately licking Jason’s face.

Jason can only laugh and scratch the dog’s ears. “Yeah, yeah, love you too, ya silly mutt!”

It’s then that Dick finally intervenes, grabbing Ace’s collar and pulling him off. “Okay, Ace, let the kid breathe.”

Ace whines but otherwise just follows along beside the wheelchair, close enough to pet but not so close as to be in the way as they continue on to the house.

“Welcome home, Master Jason,” Alfred says and somehow his voice doesn’t crack under the weight of all the emotion it contains. Product of a big heart, Jason suspects.

He feels a bit awkward now, not for any good reason, it’s just a little… hard to take those kind of emotions directed at him. So he just smiles sheepishly. “It’s good to be back! You didn’t change anything in my room, right?”

“Perish the thought, young sir!” Alfred’s mustache twitches in such a way that Jason’s long taken to mean he’s terribly amused by the suggestion. “I hardly needed to. It remains as immaculate as the day you left it. Unlike Master Richard’s current room as you can imagine.”

“My room is just the way I like it!” Dick squawks with mock indignation. “I can find everything whenever I want and that’s all that matters!”

Alfred winks knowingly at Jason. “Of course it is.”

“If you all don’t mind--” Bruce sounds like he’s spent all day herding cats, which between Jason and Dick bickering, the paparazzi being bastards as usual, and all the hassle of getting Jason discharged from the hospital isn’t all that far from the truth. Jason’s pretty sure that Bruce would rather deal with the entire population of Arkham than go through any part of this morning again. “--I’d like to get Jason situated in his room.”

“And then you’re going to take a nap right?” Dick prompts lightly. Wrangling Bruce into getting some proper rest has been a trial and a half and Dick’s been doing most of the work.

“If it will get you to stop asking me that, then yes,” Bruce grumbles, only proving that he needs to get some real sleep.

Jason shrugs his good shoulder and decides to back Dick up. “Hey, after all you’ve put up with you deserve an old man nap.”

“I don’t know how to take that…” Bruce sighs, but there’s a deep fondness there suggesting he actually knows exactly how to take it.

Dick still pipes up with a quick. “From Jason? It’s a declaration of affection.”

“Oh, shut it, Dickie.”

“You shut it.”

“I’d like it if you both gave it a rest.” Bruce says, wryly as he pushes the wheelchair into the house.

Something seems different the minute they get passed the door, but it takes a moment before Jason realizes what it is. “You installed an elevator? When—Why?”

“According to the doctors you’ll be in a wheelchair or on crutches for quite a while yet. It seemed like a worthwhile investment.” Bruce shrugs like it’s nothing, which for a guy with literally millions of dollars to his name it probably is, but still…

“Okay but when?”

“I contracted the workers as soon as they told me you’d recover… or rather I asked Alfred to do it.” Bruce smiles a little. “It accesses every level of the house, including the cave, though that requires a special code that I’ll show you later.”

At that Jason leans over closer to Dick and, affecting his most dramatic stage whisper, says, “By which he means he’ll tell me in about six years when I finally convince him that I’m well enough to go back on patrol.”

Dick nods and joins Jason in giving Bruce the stink eye.

“Boys…” Bruce sighs.

“Hey, I’m injured! That totally grants me a free pass to make fun of your paranoid ass, Pops.” Jason probably delights way too much in the way Bruce smiles every time Jason even gets close to calling him ‘Dad’.

With a clap of his hands, Dick starts shooing them all towards the elevator. “Come on, you three, I thought we were taking Jay up to his room, not lollygagging in the lobby! Let’s get a move on!”

“If it was not abundantly clear already, Master Richard has developed something of an infatuation with the manor’s latest renovation.” Alfred informs Jason with a fond smile.

Jason laughs. “Really?”

“There’s a control for speed.” Those are the magic words.

Automatically interested, Jason leans forward a bit. “How fast?”

“It’s not a toy, boys.” Bruce tries, but he has to know they’re not listening.

“Fast.” Dick answers Jason’s question with a mischievous grin.

“Hot damn!” Jason exclaims. “I gotta try this shit out!”

Alfred pats his shoulder. “There will be plenty of time for that later, young sirs. For the time being, why don’t we get Master Jason settled in his room.”

“But, Alfie!” Jason whines, giving Alfred his best puppy-dog eyes and thoroughly upsetting the actual dog in the room that Dick has to hold back from crawling into Jason’s lap.

Unfortunately, Alfred developed an immunity to pleading long before Jason came into the picture. “Next time.”

For the first time since he woke up, Jason is alone. Alfred’s preparing dinner, Dick left to go prepare for patrol, and between Jason, Dick, and Alfred they actually did manage to convince Bruce to go take a nap in his own goddamn bed. So Jason has his room, his thoughts, and the laptop linked up with the computer in the cave all to himself. It’d be wrong to say he conned the laptop out of Bruce, but well… he had only managed to get it on the pretense of needing to catch up on homework. Something which he is definitely not going to be doing, at least not right now. Joking around is all fine and good, but knowing Bruce it really will be ages before he lets Jason anywhere near the cave. Longer still before Jason will be able to look in to any theories he might have, but he wants to get a head start any way. The only way he’ll get that is by watching the video of the man who rescued him.

Either the video from Jason’s mask was destroyed by… what happened or someone, probably Dick, buried it deep. Jason can’t find it. He kind of doubts it’d be all that useful anyway so it’s probably for the best. The one from Bruce’s cowl, or at least an edited down version from the looks of it, is sitting out in the open like they’d expected him to do this. Which knowing this family they probably did. Whatever. Jason hits play on the video, no use fussing about it.

The video starts with Bruce digging through the rubble pile apparently not hearing the voice calling for him at least not until the guy shouts his real name. Bruce finally looks up and Jason gets his first real look at Alvin. The video’s a little blurry and there’s so much smoke and dust in the air that it’s difficult to get a good read on him. The best Jason can do is, he looks like a half drunk college student who grabbed someone else’s jacket when he got kicked out of a bar during a fight. That leather jacket really doesn’t look like it fits with the rest of the guy’s aesthetic. There’s blood stains on the sleeves and he’s carrying himself like he’s got a bruised rib. That’s about all he can gather from this clip.

Looks like most of the direct visuals of Jason’s injuries have been cut, which on some level Jason’s kinda grateful for. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t need to be seeing that shit. The next clip is in the jeep, Bruce keeps taking his eyes off where he’s going and glancing at Alvin, which is making Jason want to scream at him, but that can wait, the closer look at Alvin is appreciated.

His clothes are scuffed up, though some of them look like they were probably pretty fancy once upon a time. His hair is black and long enough that he’s managed to tie it back, though that seems to be doing nothing to keep some of it from escaping to fall in his face. A bit on the smaller side, both in height and frame – that jacket looks a little big on him. He’s covered in dust and blood, looks like he’s been through hell. Maybe literally, that’s probably possible. They should ask Raven about that or something. Whether he came from hell or not though one thing’s for sure, he definitely looks out of place. Like somebody plucked him out of some college dorm and plopped him right in the middle of the desert. He’s not even well equipped enough to be a kid on taking a trip around the world before college.

He does look a bit familiar though. Jason could swear he’s seen him or someone who looks like him before. It’s like it’s not exact, just some features are the same, but not all of them. A bit like he’s seen someone related to the guy before. He can’t quite place it though so he keeps watching.

They get to the camp and after a few minutes of Bruce looking back and forth between the medical tent and Alvin who’s being patched up by an assistant he finally approaches Alvin and really talks to him. From the moment Alvin opens his mouth the Gotham accent is clear as day. It’s pretty ritzy too. No wonder he seemed familiar, Jason probably has seen someone who looks like him. Probably at one of those godawful parties Bruce made him go to or something. Dammit, why can’t he remember?

Next time he gets dragged to a gala he’s going to pay extra special attention and be on the look out for anyone who looks like Alvin, even just a little bit. Maybe – just maybe – this will lead somewhere.

He hopes.

Next Chapter →

First Chapter

← Previous Chapter

#argothia's writing #argothia's fanfiction #fandom: bat family #story: still breathing part one: into the tiger's den #series: still breathing

0 notes

destinyimage · 1 year

Text

Uproot Stress & Anxiety from the Source

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you (1 Peter 5:7 NIV).

For a lot of us, digging beneath our anxiety means addressing our pride through the releasing of control.

We need to let go and let God in as many areas as possible. But that’s not the only shadow lurking beneath the giant of anxiety. There are a handful of other common roots that tend to trip us up and produce the fruit of anxiety in our lives.

If it’s not already clear, I am not a doctor of any kind and would be a fool to try to prescribe a simple Band-Aid of spiritual-sounding mumbo-jumbo to someone suffering the paralyzing effects of panic, anxiety, or depression. Although it’s not my place to prescribe, I can describe what God did for me and what I believe He can do for you.

I am downstream from many of you reading this today, calling from the other side of this valley—“You will get through this.” I realize you may have fought this fight for years, but God doesn’t want you to lose hope.

For me, it was important to come to the point where I began to realize my “anxiety” wasn’t a thing in and of itself. Rather, my anxiety was a symptom of something else. I discovered that it seemed to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. For example, I heard myself making comments such as, “I can’t make it to work today because my anxiety is acting up again.” Or, “I feel like my anxiety is rising up, I better go lie down.”

I was acting like anxiety was a cause rather than a symptom.

That’s incredibly frustrating because anxiety is a nebulous enemy. You can’t touch it or see it or even describe it well. Try sometime and you’ll quickly see how words don’t seem to capture the full experience. At least you can see when your wrist is swollen from a broken bone or see the rash on your face from an allergic reaction. But anxiety, in all its forms, is vague, murky, invisible, and hard to pin to the wall.

People Pleasing

That’s why going back and digging beneath this giant is so vital to our battle of putting an “X” through anxiety. If my anxiety is a symptom rather than a cause, then there are root tensions that are producing these anxious emotions within me. In some cases, it was something deep down within my heart. Other times it was something right on the surface of life. Most often what was causing me to be anxious wasn’t a thing, but a person. Someone was doing or saying something that unsettled me or was outside of my desired outcome.

I realized most of what was keeping me up at night was connected to people and relationships. I was spending hours trying to manage results, replay conversations, control scenarios, or protect myself and those around me.

You might say, “Louie, that sounds like you’re just trying to lead your people. How do you not fall into that trap, especially if you’re responsible for the people around or under you?”

It’s a fine line because many of us have been entrusted by God to lead others and to care for, shepherd, and guide them toward a life of godliness and wholeness. But ultimately, you and I can’t center our souls around the desire to please people. It’s never led to a life of fulfillment and, more often than not, it leads down the path toward anxiety and stress.

Being a leader isn’t about pleasing people. It’s about seeking God’s glory and then allowing the overflow of that pursuit to pour into your people. That’s what Jesus means in John 5:44 (ESV) when He says, “How can you believe, when you receive glory from one another and do not seek the glory that comes from the only God?”

I know firsthand that if you’re trying to control the world or the people around you, you’re spending a lot of time staring at the ceiling at night.

/*<![CDATA[*/ (function () { var scriptURL = 'https://sdks.shopifycdn.com/buy-button/latest/buy-button-storefront.min.js'; if (window.ShopifyBuy) { if (window.ShopifyBuy.UI) { ShopifyBuyInit(); } else { loadScript(); } } else { loadScript(); } function loadScript() { var script = document.createElement('script'); script.async = true; script.src = scriptURL; (document.getElementsByTagName('head')[0] || document.getElementsByTagName('body')[0]).appendChild(script); script.onload = ShopifyBuyInit; } function ShopifyBuyInit() { var client = ShopifyBuy.buildClient({ domain: 'nori-media-group.myshopify.com', storefrontAccessToken: 'd4019987e189be3ec0cf97ea37531adb', }); ShopifyBuy.UI.onReady(client).then(function (ui) { ui.createComponent('product', { id: '7249087463608', node: document.getElementById('product-component-1675365972980'), moneyFormat: '%24%7B%7Bamount%7D%7D', options: { "product": { "styles": { "product": { "@media (min-width: 601px)": { "max-width": "calc(25% - 20px)", "margin-left": "20px", "margin-bottom": "50px" } }, "title": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "color": "#000000" }, "button": { "font-family": "Droid Sans, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", ":hover": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "background-color": "#ffb400", ":focus": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "border-radius": "25px", "padding-left": "26px", "padding-right": "26px" }, "price": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "color": "#444444" }, "compareAt": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "color": "#444444" }, "unitPrice": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "color": "#444444" }, "description": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif" } }, "contents": { "button": false, "buttonWithQuantity": true }, "text": { "button": "Add to cart" }, "googleFonts": [ "Roboto", "Droid Sans" ] }, "productSet": { "styles": { "products": { "@media (min-width: 601px)": { "margin-left": "-20px" } } } }, "modalProduct": { "contents": { "img": false, "imgWithCarousel": true, "button": false, "buttonWithQuantity": true }, "styles": { "product": { "@media (min-width: 601px)": { "max-width": "100%", "margin-left": "0px", "margin-bottom": "0px" } }, "button": { "font-family": "Droid Sans, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", ":hover": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "background-color": "#ffb400", ":focus": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "border-radius": "25px", "padding-left": "26px", "padding-right": "26px" }, "title": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", "font-size": "26px", "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "price": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "normal", "font-size": "18px", "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "compareAt": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "normal", "font-size": "15.299999999999999px", "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "unitPrice": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "normal", "font-size": "15.299999999999999px", "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "description": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "normal", "font-size": "14px", "color": "#4c4c4c" } }, "googleFonts": [ "Roboto", "Droid Sans" ] }, "option": { "styles": { "label": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif" }, "select": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif" } }, "googleFonts": [ "Roboto" ] }, "cart": { "styles": { "button": { "font-family": "Droid Sans, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", ":hover": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "background-color": "#ffb400", ":focus": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "border-radius": "25px" }, "title": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "header": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "lineItems": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "subtotalText": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "subtotal": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "notice": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "currency": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "close": { "color": "#4c4c4c", ":hover": { "color": "#4c4c4c" } }, "empty": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "noteDescription": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "discountText": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "discountIcon": { "fill": "#4c4c4c" }, "discountAmount": { "color": "#4c4c4c" } }, "text": { "title": "Checkout powered by Faith & Flame" }, "googleFonts": [ "Droid Sans" ] }, "toggle": { "styles": { "toggle": { "font-family": "Droid Sans, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", "background-color": "#ffb400", ":hover": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, ":focus": { "background-color": "#e6a200" } } }, "googleFonts": [ "Droid Sans" ] }, "lineItem": { "styles": { "variantTitle": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "title": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "price": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "fullPrice": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "discount": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "discountIcon": { "fill": "#4c4c4c" }, "quantity": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "quantityIncrement": { "color": "#4c4c4c", "border-color": "#4c4c4c" }, "quantityDecrement": { "color": "#4c4c4c", "border-color": "#4c4c4c" }, "quantityInput": { "color": "#4c4c4c", "border-color": "#4c4c4c" } } } }, }); }); } })(); /*]]>*/

But Jesus offers a better way.

Whenever the giant of anxiety is pressing in on my heart and mind, I often return to 1 Peter 5, particularly verses 6-11. Jesus invites you and me to cast all our anxiety on Him, not just because He’s the best one to carry it but because He cares about us. How stunning. The God of the universe cares for you and for me, so much so that He tells us to give Him everything that’s bothering us.

In the original Greek language, the word used for anxiety in this verse means “to divide or to pull apart.” That’s what happens to our hearts when we are anxious about something. We’re pulled to pieces, and there’s no peace when your heart is busy being pulled to pieces. That’s why Jesus offers to carry this weight for us if only we surrender it to Him.

Take a moment and excavate below the surface of your anxiety, remembering that anxiety is not a “thing” in and of itself. Dig down a little deeper and ask these critical questions:

What (or who) is pulling at my peace of mind?

What situation or fear or potential outcome is making me feel like I need to manage or control things?

Once you can name it, you are on the road to freedom; because when you can identify it, you can specifically cast it on Jesus in a meaningful way. You can transfer the weight and concern to His care, knowing He cares about you.

But people pleasing isn’t the only root that leads to anxiety bubbling up in our lives. Maybe for you, it’s not trying to impress those around you as much as it is trying to hold on to the past and prepare for the future. Maybe you’ve fallen into the trap of what I call the “Stress Sandwich”—living for yesterday or tomorrow but missing the goodness of God today.

The Stress Sandwich

What is the stress sandwich and how do you know if it’s at the root of your anxiety? Think of it like this. You have two slices of bread. One slice represents all the regret of what didn’t go right or you wish were different about yesterday. The other slice is all the worry you have about all the different scenarios that may happen tomorrow. Between those two pieces you put today—that’s called a stress sandwich, and, sadly, that’s what most of us are eating for lunch every day.

We’re chewing on the regrets of yesterday. We’re mulling over all the what-ifs of tomorrow. And in the process, we completely lose the value of today. When I think of the stress sandwich, I think specifically of these two Scriptures:

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own (Matthew 6:34 NIV).

Now listen, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.” Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, “If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that” (James 4:13-15 NIV).

Each day has enough trouble of its own. You might be feeling some of that trouble today, but this truth should give our hearts joy! As hard as you may try, you cannot go back to yesterday and redo what happened or what was said or what wasn’t done. And you have very little control over tomorrow. Tomorrow’s schedule may be listed on your phone’s calendar and you may have a plan, but it hasn’t actually arrived.

So, what do you have? You have right now. And what happens when we focus on the right now instead of on the past or the future? We begin to experience new opportunities to rejoice in the Lord.

That’s what the psalmist meant when he wrote in Psalm 118:24 (ESV):

This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.

If you’re feeling the giant of anxiety pressing in, you might want to take a look at your spiritual diet and ask, “Am I eating a stress sandwich, fixating on yesterday or tomorrow? Or am rejoicing in today—the day that the Lord has made?”

We’ve learned now that anxiety can stem from the roots of control, people pleasing, and worrying about the past or the future. But there’s one more big root that many of us allow to grow deep in our hearts that produces anxiety. It goes by a lot of names, things like alarm, angst, concern, or unease, but if we’re going to put an “X” through anxiety, we need to call it by what it is—fear.

Trust Conquers Fear

We are all prone to fear. Hardwired into our DNA is something called the “fight or flight response.” In the hunter versus hunted lifestyle of our ancestors, fear was a strategic tool that just might have helped keep you alive.

But today, instead of the occasional bursts of fear that offer instinctual protection, many of us live ruled by fear. We fear nearly everything and everyone, and when that type of living sinks into your soul, anxiety is the natural byproduct.

The great news for those of us who follow Jesus is that we have the ultimate antidote to fear. When we put our faith in Jesus, we receive the Holy Spirit, who counteracts our innate tendency to fear with power, love, and self-control (see 2 Timothy 1:7).

The Holy Spirit prompts and empowers us to live a life of trust and not terror. That’s what ultimately uproots fear and, with it, anxiety from our hearts. Do you believe God is able? Do you believe He loves you and cares about you? Do you trust Him to work in and through the circumstances you are facing to do what’s best for you?

If fear is battling to take over your heart, if anxiety is rising within you, dwell on the cross. Think about what Jesus has done to ensure you can be alive with Him. Relief may not be immediate, because digging up deeply rooted things often takes some time and intentionality. But take heart that as you wait—God is at work, both in you and through you.

He is and always will be in full control, so you can sur- render your need to be in charge over to Him.

He is and always will be for you, so you can find your affirmation in Him and not in the people around you.

He is and always will be present with you, so you can release your past and submit your tomorrows to Him.

He is and always will be the resurrected Savior, so you can overcome fear by the power of His cross.

You can get to the bedrock of your anxiety, and from a place of surrender, you can look up to your Good Shepherd. He is there with open arms, ready to help you put an “X” through all the roots that lead you to be anxious.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:6-7 NIV).

Breaking Free

The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him (Psalm 28:7 NIV).

/*<![CDATA[*/ (function () { var scriptURL = 'https://sdks.shopifycdn.com/buy-button/latest/buy-button-storefront.min.js'; if (window.ShopifyBuy) { if (window.ShopifyBuy.UI) { ShopifyBuyInit(); } else { loadScript(); } } else { loadScript(); } function loadScript() { var script = document.createElement('script'); script.async = true; script.src = scriptURL; (document.getElementsByTagName('head')[0] || document.getElementsByTagName('body')[0]).appendChild(script); script.onload = ShopifyBuyInit; } function ShopifyBuyInit() { var client = ShopifyBuy.buildClient({ domain: 'nori-media-group.myshopify.com', storefrontAccessToken: 'd4019987e189be3ec0cf97ea37531adb', }); ShopifyBuy.UI.onReady(client).then(function (ui) { ui.createComponent('product', { id: '7249087463608', node: document.getElementById('product-component-1675433511299'), moneyFormat: '%24%7B%7Bamount%7D%7D', options: { "product": { "styles": { "product": { "@media (min-width: 601px)": { "max-width": "100%", "margin-left": "0", "margin-bottom": "50px" }, "text-align": "left" }, "title": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-size": "26px", "color": "#000000" }, "button": { "font-family": "Droid Sans, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", ":hover": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "background-color": "#ffb400", ":focus": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "border-radius": "25px", "padding-left": "26px", "padding-right": "26px" }, "price": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-size": "18px", "color": "#444444" }, "compareAt": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-size": "15.299999999999999px", "color": "#444444" }, "unitPrice": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-size": "15.299999999999999px", "color": "#444444" }, "description": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif" } }, "layout": "horizontal", "contents": { "img": false, "imgWithCarousel": true, "button": false, "buttonWithQuantity": true, "description": true }, "width": "100%", "text": { "button": "Add to cart" }, "googleFonts": [ "Roboto", "Droid Sans" ] }, "productSet": { "styles": { "products": { "@media (min-width: 601px)": { "margin-left": "-20px" } } } }, "modalProduct": { "contents": { "img": false, "imgWithCarousel": true, "button": false, "buttonWithQuantity": true }, "styles": { "product": { "@media (min-width: 601px)": { "max-width": "100%", "margin-left": "0px", "margin-bottom": "0px" } }, "button": { "font-family": "Droid Sans, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", ":hover": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "background-color": "#ffb400", ":focus": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "border-radius": "25px", "padding-left": "26px", "padding-right": "26px" }, "title": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", "font-size": "26px", "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "price": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "normal", "font-size": "18px", "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "compareAt": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "normal", "font-size": "15.299999999999999px", "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "unitPrice": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "normal", "font-size": "15.299999999999999px", "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "description": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif", "font-weight": "normal", "font-size": "14px", "color": "#4c4c4c" } }, "googleFonts": [ "Roboto", "Droid Sans" ] }, "option": { "styles": { "label": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif" }, "select": { "font-family": "Roboto, sans-serif" } }, "googleFonts": [ "Roboto" ] }, "cart": { "styles": { "button": { "font-family": "Droid Sans, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", ":hover": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "background-color": "#ffb400", ":focus": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, "border-radius": "25px" }, "title": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "header": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "lineItems": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "subtotalText": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "subtotal": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "notice": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "currency": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "close": { "color": "#4c4c4c", ":hover": { "color": "#4c4c4c" } }, "empty": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "noteDescription": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "discountText": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "discountIcon": { "fill": "#4c4c4c" }, "discountAmount": { "color": "#4c4c4c" } }, "text": { "title": "Checkout powered by Faith & Flame" }, "googleFonts": [ "Droid Sans" ] }, "toggle": { "styles": { "toggle": { "font-family": "Droid Sans, sans-serif", "font-weight": "bold", "background-color": "#ffb400", ":hover": { "background-color": "#e6a200" }, ":focus": { "background-color": "#e6a200" } } }, "googleFonts": [ "Droid Sans" ] }, "lineItem": { "styles": { "variantTitle": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "title": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "price": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "fullPrice": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "discount": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "discountIcon": { "fill": "#4c4c4c" }, "quantity": { "color": "#4c4c4c" }, "quantityIncrement": { "color": "#4c4c4c", "border-color": "#4c4c4c" }, "quantityDecrement": { "color": "#4c4c4c", "border-color": "#4c4c4c" }, "quantityInput": { "color": "#4c4c4c", "border-color": "#4c4c4c" } } } }, }); }); } })(); /*]]>*/

0 notes

leonbloder · 2 years

Text

Moving Through Grief - Carrying It (Not So) Well

This week I've been focusing on grief and its effects on us in the Daily Devo. Each day we're going to address one of the "Five Stages of Grief" established years ago by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross in her work on grief and how we process it. Today we're going to talk about the fourth stage: Depression. I've written about depression on the Daily Devo frequently. Still, I haven't explored how sometimes people can suffer depression, and no one else even knows it because they can hide it so well. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross identified depression as the fourth stage of the grief process. It's the stage she determined would come on the heels of denial, bargaining, and anger as the reality of our losses land upon us, and we are forced to come to grips with them. I need to say that none of these "stages" are linear, meaning that we don't typically experience them as a checklist that we move through on our way to getting over a loss or journeying through our grief. Sometimes we feel them all at once or move back and forth between the stages as we become triggered by feelings, emotions, memories, and the like. And depression can be something we feel alongside the first three stages in varying degrees, which has been my own experience, to be honest. Also, depression is something that gets hidden during the grief process by many of us because we're doing our best to put on a brave face or to avoid uncomfortable conversations. We also can feel the weight of other people's expectations or desires that we "get over it" and move on, making us want to hide what's happening inside us even though, all the while, we want to be seen. The other day I was listening to "Carry It Well," a song by singer/songwriter Sam Fischer that had these lyrics that speak so directly to this:

Just because I carry it well Doesn't mean it isn't heavy and I don't need some help I know I keep it locked down, but all I want now Is somebody who can tell me how it's gonna turn out 'Cause I thought I'd be doing better by now I thought I'd be doing better by now But don't I carry it well?

Here the singer expresses what so many of us have felt when we're carrying the weight of grief and loss and the weight of the many people around us who don't seem to see how much we are suffering.

Author Shannon L. Alder captures the essence of those feelings this way:

“Every broken heart has screamed at one time or another: Why can't you see who I truly am?”

If you are suffering from grief and loss, you should know that you are not alone. Even if it feels as though no one knows what you're going through, there are people in your life who do. And you should also know that the God who loves you more than you will ever know is also with you, and it is the presence of this God that will sustain you and lift you up if you are willing to surrender your outcomes to God. May you know that whatever you feel is simply part of your process of dealing with your loss, and it does not define you. May you find peace during your struggle, and may it lead you to hope. And may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you now and always. Amen.

0 notes

fruitcoops · 2 years

Note

I don’t know if any of this is canon but would you possibly write Remus/Sirius needing/wearing glasses? It feels like something they’d only find out about each other when they relaxed at home (like if they wore contacts normally).

Yeah! Like many things, it could definitely be canon in the future, so this was a lot of fun to think about :) Hope you enjoy! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW minor mention of past injury (perils of hockey)

“You need them.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Denial is the first stage. Acceptance is the last.”

“Denial only counts if I actually needed them.”

“And you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“See, this is why your doctors don’t like you.” Remus took a sip of his tea as Sirius finally looked up from his crossword to glare. “Am I wrong?”

“Yes.”

Remus cocked an eyebrow. “You really think you can get through 15 years of professional hockey and God knows how many concussions without any damage to your eyesight despite half a dozen doctors’ notes saying otherwise?”

“Obviously.”

“Tell me, Sirius, what’s it like to be ten feet tall and bulletproof?”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

Remus took another long sip of tea. “Dumo had them by 38.”

“Oh my—”

“I’m just saying—”

----------------

Sirius held out for two and a half more months.

Correction: Sirius squinted and scowled his way through two more months, much to Remus’ dismay and James’ delight. Honestly, Remus wasn’t sure whether it was his inability to pick people out in photographs or the constant ribbing that finally pushed Sirius over the edge, but he was in no position to protest. Anything to end the flood of mail from the optometrist.

“It really isn’t that bad,” Sirius said as they headed down a familiar path. If they had been in any other line of work, Remus would have been worried about how well they knew the way to the hospital.

“Sure thing, baby.”

“I can still read, you know. And I can see people’s faces just fine.”

As long as they’re not in pictures, sure. “Mhmm.”

“I won’t even need contacts for games.”

“Probably for the best, considering you wouldn’t wear them,” Remus mused. Sirius’ lower lip slid out slightly and Remus reached over to pat his thigh. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Half of our friends already have glasses and the other half are, like, two years away. It’s a side effect of hockey.”

“I know,” Sirius muttered.

Remus gave him a little squeeze of reassurance. “Nobody will think less of you, baby. This is just you taking care of yourself.”

Sirius parked the car and stared up at the optometrist’s cheerful sign with no small amount of frustration; after a moment, he sighed, and folded Remus’ hand in his own. “But it’s different when it’s me.”

“It’s not,” Remus said gently. They had had that exact conversation countless times, and not just about Sirius’ eyesight—even after all those years, he still struggled with anything less than perfection. “Thank you for doing this. I know it was hard.”

Sirius’ nose twitched and his hold tightened for a heartbeat. “Will you come with me?”

“Course I will.”

---------------------

“That’s…worse than before.”

Remus bit his lip. “Yep.”

“A lot worse?”

“You’re within spitting distance of Pots.”

“Merde,” Sirius muttered.

The door opened and a round-faced nurse with a small tray entered, smiling kindly at them. “Thank you for being so patient. It took a little longer than usual to find lenses for the new prescription, but I’ve got most of your options here. We’ll send you home with some website links for custom frames, but the doctor wanted to make sure you had a pair for the interim.”

“Thank you,” they said in unison.

Sirius’ eyes widened slightly when she set the tray down on the table in front of them. Close to two dozen frames sat in neat rows; Remus watched anxiety flicker over his face. “That’s a lot.”

“We like to keep a variety, so that everyone has a chance of finding something that fits.”

“Are there—do you have regular ones?” Sirius asked. Their hands brushed under the table and Remus linked their pinky fingers in silent support. “Just something basic, I’m not picky.”

The nurse hummed, craning her neck to see the collection better. “We’ve got some flat black ones like these in some different shapes, if you want to check those out. That’s about as basic as I can remember.”

“That sounds perfect,” Sirius said with audible relief.

“Alright, just pop back here with me for a minute and we’ll see what we can find.”

Remus squeezed Sirius’ hand as they stood. “I’ll be in the car when you’re done.”

------------------

Sirius returned 30 minutes later with a small box and, much to Remus’ surprise, a spring in his step. “Hi, sunshine,” he laughed as Sirius ducked into the car. “That good, huh?”

“That good,” Sirius confirmed. “Close your eyes.”

“I don’t get a fashion show?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Remus shook his head, smiling, but obediently closed his eyes and let one elbow rest on the console. There was a light clicking noise, followed by rustling. “Can I see?”

Sirius’ thumb brushed his jaw. “Mon dieu, you’re so handsome when you’re not blurry.”

Warmth spread through Remus’ cheeks and he batted blindly at Sirius’ thigh with a suppressed grin. “Can I look now, you hopeless romantic?”

A beat of silence passed. “Okay, allez.”

Remus’ breath caught in his chest. The glasses were thick and square—though not quite to James’ level of coke bottle—with shiny black frames that made the crystalline blue of Sirius’ eyes even more striking than they already were. “Look at you,” he breathed, cupping Sirius’ face in his hands.

Sirius shifted eagerly in his seat. “You like them?”

“Baby, I love them.” He tilted Sirius’ face back and forth, letting the light catch in different places; the frames weren’t anything showy, but next to his ink-black hair and bright, excited eyes were enhanced just how lovely Sirius really was. “These are perfect.”

A pleased blush tinted Sirius’ cheeks. “I feel kind of stupid for putting this off for so long.”

“You weren’t stupid,” Remus said with a kiss to his nose. “Stubborn, yes, but not stupid. You’re very smart.”

“Am I?”

“Yep. And you know what smart men do?”

Sirius was smiling so wide his lashes nearly brushed his cheekbones. “What?”

“They drive home so their husband can kiss them in their sexy Superman glasses until they forget their own name.”

#sirius black #remus lupin #coops #james potter #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #glasses #future

182 notes · View notes

sukirichi · 3 years

Text

crush

pov. you have a crush on your brother’s best friend

request. Hi! Congrats on 2.4k!!🤩 For the event, may I request an au where reader is Yuuta’s sister? Can be gn/fem reader anything is fine. And they fall in love with Toge? Fluff fluff fluff please

notes. awww i love this request, i have a fat crush on toge so i enjoyed writing this! i made this a modern high school au, by the way!

You stare disappointedly at the black wrappings of your bento, sighing because your brother took the wrong one again. Waving goodbye to your friend, you made your way to your brother’s classroom, knocking on the door to get his attention. However, it isn’t your brother who’d stopped laughing mid-conversation. Instead, it’s a familiar-looking platinum haired guy, his purple eyes glimmering with mischief as he slapped your brother’s arm.

“Yo, Yuta, I think someone’s looking for you,” you heard him say.

Meanwhile, you just stood there blankly, your throat growing dry because he was cute – like actually handsome boy-next-door cute.

You’ve met lots of cute guys before, but they were all very immature that you found no interest in others. He, on the other hand, was nothing less of polite, shooting up from his seat because your stupid brother was too invested in his video games. The guy flashed you a bright smile, the beauty of his face up close enhanced that you felt your heart squealing.

Not that you’d ever show that, of course, so you just reciprocated with a polite smile to hide your frantic nerves.

“Hi! You here for Yuta-kun?”

“Y-yes.”

Before he could speak, an arm had shoved him aside. Yuta stood before you, his frown apparent while his friend stayed at the side, a smile still playing on his lips. It took all your energy to not stare at him too much in fear he’d easily read through you.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“You swapped lunches with me,” you shoved the black bento box to his chest, stepping closer to your brother to whisper in his ear. “Is that a friend of yours?”

“Yeah, he’s Toge. He used to play with us a lot before he moved away, but his family’s back in town. Don’t you remember him?”

“No…”

“Toge, come here!” he called out to his retreating friend, the guy freezing in his tracks before he jogged up to where you were quickly. Oh crap, you kept gushing, he really was cute. He placed an arm around your brother’s shoulder, nodding at you as a greeting. “Remember my sister? You used to play with her a lot when we were kids. You kept stealing her Barbies, remember?”

“I did?” Toge looked shocked, his back bending into a fake bow. “I’m very sorry for that, but don’t worry, I don’t do that anymore.”

“I don’t play with Barbies at this age!” you defended, heat spreading all over your skin when he winked at you. Both of them laughed at your flushed face, and you crossed your arms on your chest, glaring at your brother. Really though, you were just trying to hide the fact you were very attracted to his friend, even more so now that he was actually familiar. “Stupid Yuta-nii.”

“You’re cute,” Toge randomly piped in.

If you were feeling shy before, you couldn’t speak now.

“Dude, don’t talk about my sister like that,” Yuta gagged, slapping his friend on the chest who effortlessly ducked away, his laughter like music in your ears. You stared at him for who knew how long, his happiness absorbed in your body as you found yourself giggling back. Yuta, on the other hand, wasn’t as impressed, rolling his eyes at his friend before turning to you. “You should go back to class. The bell will ring soon.”

“Okay,” you nodded quietly, hesitating for a moment. Surely it wouldn’t be too weird, right? Deciding to heck with it though, you balled your hands into fists, mustering the courage to look him in the eye as you said, “See you, Toge-senpai.”

He simply shrugged his brows up as a farewell, and just like that, you dashed down the hall so fast you put Quicksilver to shame.

Great. Out of all the days it had to storm, it had to be on the rare moment you forgot your umbrella. Unsurprisingly enough, it was Yuta’s fault for making you forget it. Both of you had slept in too much, but instead of being the responsible older brother, he left you to prepare the meals all by yourself while he spent half an hour fixing his hair. In your haste to arrive on school on time, you’d forgotten to pick up your umbrella, and now the misfortune of it slapped you right on the face.

“Tch, how can I go home?” you glared at no one in particular.

Yuta had to stay behind for baseball practice in the covered court, leaving you all alone to take the bus by yourself. Well, not that it mattered, going home alone was way better than listening to your brother rant about video games and girls he wanted to talk to in class.

Shifting your weight from one foot to another, brows pinched as you mulled on the different ways you could come back home, you came up with two options.

One, run like hell and risk getting sick from this weather, or two, wait for the rain to subside.

But ugh, you wanted to go home already. Before you knew it, you’d unknowingly pouted, arms hugged to yourself while you cursed your stupid brother a hundred times over in your head. Too lost in your own thoughts, you failed to hear humming from behind you, a scream nearly ripping from your lips when someone planted himself beside you.

“Hey, you’re here!”

You gazed up at him wide-eyed, subconsciously stepping away to keep your beating heart at bay. “H-hello, Toge-senpai.”

“Please, just call me Toge,” he offered, opening his umbrella before his eyes landed on you. Probably realizing you were quite helpless, Toge smiled, nudging you to come closer to him. “Hey, I’ll walk you home. You guys still live in the same block?”

“Yeah.”

And so there you were, debating that maybe Yuta’s carelessness wasn’t such a bad thing. After all, if it would lead to your crush taking you home, then you weren’t complaining. Funny how the weather seemed so gloomy, a huge contrast to the sunshine you radiated at the sheer happiness of living out your most romantic fantasies. It was silly, actually, to crush on your brother’s best friend of all people, but Toge was so nice and handsome – it was kind of impossible not to like him.

In the span of two weeks that you’d known him, he’d been nothing but friendly. And no, you weren’t going to admit you started visiting their classroom more often than before, simply because you wanted to get a glimpse of him.

Toge pulled you out of your lovesick trance, his arm landing on your waist before he shifted you beside him. You noticed he was now closer to the road while you were on the safer side of the sidewalk, and god, did he just step closer? He was close enough that your arms brushed with each step, sending a wave of heat that you bit back by tugging your lips with your teeth.

“For warmth,” he explained as if reading your mind, arm raised lazily in a shrug. “Wouldn’t want you to get cold.”

“Thank you,” you muttered, hiding your face under your scarf.

You and Toge were silent the whole time, but it was a silence you adored. Very rarely that you found comfort in silence with others, but with Toge, it felt so easy – so natural. You hadn’t even realized you were already at home, Toge chuckling at your spaced out self. He bid his farewell then, his back facing yours as he walked away when you blurted, “Oh, my parents aren’t home. I think you should stay first to let the rain calm down a bit. You live a little far from school, right?”

Toge looked a little surprised, his eyes shooting up to the sky with a sigh. Inwardly, you were screaming because you just invited him inside, but Toge was already waddling back to you before you could regret it.

“Yeah, thanks for the invitation. I don’t think I should go home in this weather too,” he said, following you across the threshold. He looked around in awe, his shoes left in the front door before he crossed the living room with you, his eyes shining with nostalgia and happiness. “Wow, your place hasn’t changed one bit. I missed being here.”

You flashed him a smile. Turns out it wasn’t that bad – Toge being comfortable made you comfortable. Aside from the nervousness partnered with shyness from having a crush, you applauded yourself for being able to look him in the eye as you asked, “Do you want tea, coffee…?”

“Water is fine. Thanks,” he shrugged off his jacket and placed it behind a chair, chuckling when you nodded too fast. Toge, much to your dismay (or delight?!) trailed behind you in the kitchen, having no business looking that handsome as he leaned against the counter. Him being unaware of his effect on you was even worse, and you bit the inside of your cheeks, trembling as you poured him a glass of water.

From behind you, Toge snickered, “Why are you so jittery? Do I make you nervous?”

“A-a little.”

“Why? Am I intimidating?” he appeared beside you out of nowhere, so close that you could count his lashes. You leaned back with a muffled squeal, eyes wide at the proximity. Toge, as always, seemed completely unaware of it, taking his time to assess your features with a hand on his chin as if all the answers he was looking for was written all over your face. “Yuta told me I was very easy to approach though.”

“No, it’s not that, I just…” you stuttered, giving in with weak knees and turning your head to the side. Your heart, your poor heart! “Crap, I hate myself.”

“You were saying something?”

“I, uhm, it’s just,” you panicked, mind failing to function now of all times. “I think…I have a crush on you?”

The room fell silent.

Realization dawning on you, you flattened your palms together in a begging motion. Toge merely blinked back at you, and you were so close to just kneeling to the gods to rid yourself of this moment forever. “Please forget everything I said, I’m so sorry! Gosh, Yuta’s going to kill me, forget I said anything, I didn’t mean to be weird.”

“Hey, chill, it’s fine!” he laughed, helping you get up just before you fell in exasperation. Then, he smirked at you, wiggling his brows in the process. “I kind of knew that anyway, to be honest.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I mean, you asked me to marry you when we were kids,” he informed you, but the memory never played back in your mind. It wasn’t a lie though, you really did ask him that when you were kids. Embarrassment taking hold of you, you groaned behind your palms, feeling like your heart was going to explode every now and then.

“Oh my gosh…”

“It’s okay,” Toge peeled your arms away from your face, his grin nothing less of teasing the moment he’s greeted by your shyness. “I did say yes – let’s just wait after high school, yeah?”

#inumaki toge x reader #toge x reader #inumaki to/ge x reader #inumaki to/ge fluff #inumaki to/ge x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen romance #inumaki x reader #inumaki to/ge imagines #inumaki to/ge x reader imagines #inumaki to/ge romance #inumaki to/ge x reader romance #inumaki toge x reader romance #inumaki toge x reader fluff #inumaki toge imagines #PLEASEEE I LIKE HIM SO MUCH BRRRRR #suki: 2.4k milestone event

1K notes · View notes

jkstompers · 3 years

Text

passing notes | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: a year of crushing and jungkook’s finally asked you out on a proper date.

genre: classmates to lovers??!, established friendship, they go on a date <3, jk is so stressed out, !fancy restaurant warning!, jk is A GENTLEMAN!! but wbk, oc is a nerd but is BOLD AF!!

warnings: mature!! (18+!!), SMUT,...they make out, LOTS of built up tension is let out tonite!, fingering, praise kink, handjob, backseat action, semi-public sex?? very strong language, jk overuses the nickname ‘baby’

word count: 9k

author’s note: pt. 3 of seatmate!jk. WE’VE GOT SOME FILTH TODAY PPL!!!!!!! this is my first time releasing a piece of writing that has smut in it so pls!! let me know what u think!!! i’m open to criticism but i cry easily so… pls pls be nice (Ｔ▽Ｔ) LMAO!! i also completely made up the program for ocean scientists that oc talks about LMAO i just needed her to ramble for a bit hahahah

additional note: also pls imagine jungkook looking like this in class and then wearing this for their date. also if ur curious, this is what i imagined oc’s dress to look like :)

okay enjoy!! thank u ( ˘ ³˘)

it was the end of the semester and of course, the only time jungkook would be running late to class was when he was finally going to ask you out on a date. so far, everything seems to be going against the idea. his alarm didn’t go off on time, the shower took way too long to warm up, and his car was low on gas. now he’s speed walking, almost running, to lecture to make sure that his seat next to you isn’t taken.

he wants to make sure this goes perfectly. he spent the past two weeks stressing over the plans. asking for recommendations for nice restaurants in the city in almost every group chat he was in. his friend (the one with parents as ceo’s, eunwoo), helped him and got him a reservation at this one five star restaurant that jungkook’s never been to. eunwoo told him that it was the prettiest place he’s ever been to, said it would be perfect for a first date.

jungkook specifically remembers you telling him that you’ve never gone on an actual dinner date. ice cream dates, movie theater dates, and amusement park dates were what you were used to. there was nothing wrong with that, it’s just that you’ve never experienced a candlelit dinner at a restaurant, that’s it. jungkook just wanted to be the first one to experience it with you.

so when his morning starts off this shitty, he wonders if his plans are falling apart. he tries to keep a good, positive mindset, but he’s already so nervous and the universe seems to be telling him: don’t do it, she’ll reject you, you’re gonna look stupid in front of her.

meanwhile, you’re early this lecture. it was the last class of the semester and you were hoping that you could get a nice conversation with jungkook in before it started. the two of you have gotten a lot closer since you last hung out. the chain of events starting with you apologizing for being so embarrassing,

[12:44 pm] you: jungkook!!! oh my god i am so sorry for last night 😭

[12:45 pm] you: i don’t take alcohol very well 😖

[12:50 pm] jungkook: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

[12:50 pm] jungkook: no need to apologize! are u feeling sick? hungover?

[12:52 pm] you: omg no not really

[12:52 pm] you: ur a great drinking buddy, i owe u one 🥺

[12:53 pm] jungkook: it’s alright cutie

[12:54 pm] jungkook: just happy ur feeling okay :)

[12:56 pm] you: let me make it up to u 😭 i’ll buy us lunch one of these days?

[12:57 pm] jungkook: ah no can do cutie

[12:57 pm] jungkook: have to buy u dinner first

the thought of the conversation makes you smile. that one conversation starting the domino effect of the two of you talking almost everyday for the past two weeks. you couldn’t help but expect jungkook to at least be here, but if he didn’t wanna come, then he didn’t have to.

you sat in your seat, patiently waiting for the one next to you to be filled by him. the hall was starting to fill now and class was about to start. you look around one last time to see that jungkook is still nowhere to be seen, and that a familiar brown-haired guy was beginning to walk up to you.

“hello, ___! is this seat taken?” taehyung smiles brightly, you look down at the seat next to you. your bag saving the spot for jungkook. maybe he skipped this lecture, since it was practically for nothing anyway, you’ve already taken the final and there was no other material to learn, it was more so to wrap things up and see if anyone still needed to understand something.

your brain comes to a conclusion. you remove your bag and say, “no, go ahead,” to taehyung with a small smile on your face, one that hides the disappointment riddling your mind.

it’s about five minutes after the professor starts talking when jungkook finally walks in. he looks up to try and find you as he walks up the steps of the auditorium. his eyes land on you and taehyung, chatting amongst yourselves. he can’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy, that’s his seat. even though there were no assigned seats, the place next to you was always his, that’s just how it was, and seeing someone else sitting there, especially taehyung, makes jungkook’s green monster pop out.

you feel a presence step behind you while you were talking to taehyung, and before you know it, jungkook is sitting in the seat next to taehyung. “oh! good morning, jungkook!” you’re smiling to him. he doesn’t grant you one of his regular vocal responses, rather he gives you a tight-lipped grin before he leans back into his chair and focuses on whatever the professor was saying.

maybe he was jealous. witnessing you and taehyung having a wonderful conversation, one that makes you smile and laugh like he does. you didn’t even notice him when he came up the stairs, only greeting him when he sat down. no, he was definitely jealous.

you’re stealing glances his way, pretending to be interested in whatever taehyung is talking about. he’s wearing the most boyfriend-est outfit in the world. a white long sleeve with grey sweatpants, his long hair tied up in a ponytail. you’re unconsciously biting your lip as you stare at him, he’s just so cool. he’s not even doing much other than looking straight forward. but this angle lets you see his sharp jawline and his side profile perfectly.

you felt bad, one hundred percent. you should have told taehyung that the seat was taken, because now he was talking your ear off and you didn’t mind it, but you wanted someone else to be talking your ear off and it was the guy sitting next to him.

when taehyung changes his focus to your professor talking about a summer he had in paris. you steal another glance at jungkook. you catch him staring at you, your eyes meet. he doesn’t keep the connection, cutting it off by moving his head and looking straight ahead. his jaw clenches, arms coming over and across his chest. he seems angry, you pick up on the energy now. an idea pops in your head to try and make him feel better. reaching into your bag to find one of your index cards, writing a message on it.

feeling okay?

you scoot your chair back a bit, pretending to stretch as you tap jungkook’s shoulder. he turns his head to you, eyebrows raised. you hand him the paper. he stares at first, eyes flickering between you and the paper. reluctantly, he takes it, unfolding his crossed arms to receive the note. you scoot back into your seat and lean into the table, lowering your chin onto the desk.

jungkook tries to hide his smile as he reads your little note. how could he ever stay mad at you? it wasn’t your fault he was late. so he replies, his black ink has a stark contrast against your green highlighter. he can already feel his bad mood brightening.

yeah, didn’t save me a seat? :(

this time he folds the note, handing it to taehyung and telling him to pass it to you. “really? you’re passing notes? we’re in college, jeon.” taehyung snickers as he slides the paper towards you.

you let a small laugh, reading the note. taehyung’s scolding continues as you write your response on the index card. you changed your green highlighter out with a blue pen.

i came super early :( waited 20 mins for u </3 but i didn’t think u were coming so i let taehyung sit here

you send it back and watch jungkook’s somewhat straight face contort into a smile. there it is, the smile that you know and love.

jungkook on the other hand could cry. you came early. you waited for him. god, had he royally fucked this up. he makes his mind up now.

i’m sorry :( let me make it up to u? can i take you out on a date tonight?

check: ◯ yes ◯ no

jungkook keeps the paper for a good minute, reading the note over and over again, thinking about how childish this way of asking is. but at the same time, jungkook knows that if he talks to you about it after class, he’ll gloss over the words and never ask you. letting the reservation and plans he made weeks ago render themselves useless. it was now or never.

so he fully sends it, tapping your shoulder and giving it to you directly. you open the note and scan the words, sending him the sweetest look he’s ever received in his life. he thinks that would be a yes. he hopes. you write something onto the card and pass it back to him, your hand grazing his for a second.

⚫ yes :) ♡ ◯ no

the rest of the class passes pretty quickly. not that you were paying any attention. jungkook had emailed you a link to a game that the two of you could play, a weird version of snakes. jungkook kept cheating, you swore it, but in all honesty, you knew you couldn’t compete when it came to jungkook and his computer games. a clap from the professor breaks your attention from your screen, “alright, that was the last class of anatomy 101!” he then goes on a two minute long speech thanking the entire class for their great work this past year. he ends his ment with, “good luck and make good decisions! have a fun summer!”

you take your time packing your things, a little too long for someone that just has a laptop to put into their bag. taehyung says goodbye to the both of you and leaves first, the seat in between you both empty. now it was just the two of you. a small blush creeps onto your cheeks. you were well past your high school crush phase, but jungkook makes you feel so shy again.

you try to hide it by speaking first, “so, a date?”

he sends you that award winning smile that makes you swoon. “yeah, did you change your mind?”

you shake your head. “is it casual? fancy? want me to wear a dress again?” you tease, finally pushing your computer into your bag and standing.

jungkook gulps. you looked so pretty that night in a dress. “fancy,” he answers, “you can wear a dress if you want, pantsuits are cool too— whatever you want.” he finishes packing as well, standing next to you as you both begin to walk down the stairs.

“okay then,” you smile. “what time should i be ready?”

“i’ll come and pick you up at seven, is that okay?” he replies, hand in his pockets. you both make your way out of the room and start to move towards the parking lot.

“sounds good,” you nod, approaching your car. jungkook walks you to your door, his eyes focused on your sweet smile and your eyes. if jungkook didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were leaning closer towards him. a small laugh leaves your throat. “see you later, kookie.”

he sends you a smile, the nickname tugging at his heartstrings. the realization hits him after you’ve already driven away and he’s sitting in the driver seat of his car. an embarrassing blush covers his face, he takes a deep breath and laughs to himself. finally. a year of crushing and he’s finally asked you on a proper date.

jungkook is quite frankly, freaking the fuck out. he isn’t sure what to wear and his hair isn’t working with him. the long strands seemingly out to make his life a living hell when he tries to style it. one strand always looks out of place, or the way that it parts doesn’t sit right. he’s pacing his bathroom, debating if he should just shower again and take all the stupid fucking product out of his hair.

he gives in after ten minutes of deliberation. a quick shower removing all the wax and gel from his hair. the ends of his hair dripping when he goes to check his phone, the time reading: 6:45. he was gonna be late to pick you up. now he’s full on panicking. he has no other choice then to skip the hair product all together and just let his hair dry and part on it’s own. he slides on his all black fancy outfit he had planned out just in case the first one didn’t work out. he steps out of his apartment after grabbing his car keys, wallet, and the flowers he bought earlier in the day for you.

a friend of his works in a flower shop. jungkook remembers you saying that you like all flowers and that you couldn’t choose if you had to. so his friend asked what you were like, trying to figure out a way to style the bouquet without knowing your favorites. jungkook said the general things; you’re sweet like an apple, probably sweeter, like candy. you’re so pretty, it’s blessing that he’s able to lay his eyes upon you. you’re smart, too smart for him to flirt stupidly like he always does, ‘cause you outsmart him and flirt with him back in a wittier way. you’re— that was enough information, his friend told him he was babbling again. jungkook only had to wait ten minutes for his friend to finish fixing up a beautiful bouquet for you.

the bouquet is placed on the passenger seat as he starts his car, texting you when he realizes it’s almost five minutes until 7.

[6:54 pm] jungkook: fuck

[6:54 pm] jungkook: i’m gonna be a little late

[6:55 pm] jungkook: i swear i’m not standing u up

[6:55 pm] jungkook: ok i’m putting my phone down to drive to u now, sorry cutie!!

[6:57 pm] you: ah okay!

[6:57 pm] you: i was getting a little worried haha

[6:58 pm] you: see u in a bit <3

jungkook drives safely, but efficiently to your apartment. the drive only taking about five minutes because the stop lights were gracing him with green lights his entire way to you. he parks right in front, grabbing the flowers and hopping out of the car. when he knocks on your door, he starts to feel his nerves work against him. the adrenaline from rushing here gave him enough energy to hype himself up, but now as he’s standing here at your door, waiting for you to answer, his throat starts to dry and his hands start to sweat.

the metal door slides open, revealing you. in your silk dress, draping over your body in the most flattering way. the neckline deliciously hangs down to reveal your cleavage ever so slightly and the slit on the dress, displaying your thigh teasingly. jungkook is speechless at his first glance at you. his eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open, catching himself drooling once you step out from your apartment.

“h— hi, you look— wow,” he stumbles over his words, taking a step back to admire you once again. “you’re fucking stunning.”

you brush your hair back behind your ear, your hand covering the blush covering your cheeks. “thank you, you look very handsome, jungkook.” you reach out and play with his black tie. he looks down when you do, remembering that he was holding a bouquet of flowers for you.

he holds them out, “these are for you.” like a kid giving his crush a dandelion he picked from the grass.

“these are gorgeous, jungkook! thank you.” you look up to him with your signature sweet eyes, the ones that never fail to make him melt. “just give me one sec, i’ll put these down and then we can go?” you ask, holding onto the bouquet and waiting for him to respond. a quick nod is all you need to open your door and place them in the fridge. you come out a few seconds later, locking your door and standing by jungkook again.

“that was fast,” he comments. he holds his arm out for you to hold, which you gratefully take.

“i just put them in the fridge, my grandma showed me the trick, it helps them live a little longer,” you explain. the two of you walking out to his parked car. he never lets your hand touch the handle, always opening the door for you.

“when they die, i’ll just buy you new ones.” closing the door for you and making his way to the drivers seat.

you scrunch your nose. when he comes back and joins you in the car, you voice your worry. “it’s kind of a waste, don’t you think?”

he shakes his head, “if it’s for you, nothing’s a waste.”

jungkook was a professional with his words. always rendering you speechless.

with that he starts the car and begins driving into the busier part of seoul. he makes his way into the restaurants parking garage, the building looks to be about five stories. the architecture itself looks expensive, you wonder where jungkook is taking you tonight. he parks the car, turning off the engine, and moving to open the door for you. he takes your hand and you hold onto your dress, fixing it once you get out of the car. god, you’re so pretty. he was so nervous.

“ready, my lady?” he smiles, his arm out for you to hold.

it makes you laugh, a snort almost. “i’ve never seen you so proper, mr. jeon.”

“only for you,” he winks. your heels click against the concrete floor as he leads the two of you into the building. the high ceilings and multiple chandeliers are what greet you first, the brightness of the place giving the sun something to rival. jungkook brings you over to the waiting area, telling you to wait for a minute as he checks you guys in.

this was crazy to say the least. the last time you went on a date, it was to the movie theaters. you’ve never been in a place like this; a doorman greeting every guest as they walk in, checking in to eat, multi-story, etc. the more you look around, the cooler it is. “let’s go?” jungkook’s voice makes you turn your head. you stand, taking his hand.

the two of you follow a man wearing a black and white suit, with a long tail jacket. he brings you to the elevators, holding the doors open for you both. you step in and he presses the fifth button, which was the top floor. you squeeze jungkook’s hand. he repeats the action, looking to you and silently asking if you were okay with the look in his eyes and the raise of his eyebrows. you nod, a smile on your face.

with that the elevator doors open, the metal doors sliding apart to reveal a private terrace. only a couple tables on the entire floor. a few people sitting down and enjoying their dinners. beautiful greenery surrounding the perimeter, the night sky only making it prettier. your mouth is left agape, you’re stuck in the elevator, speechless. jungkook gently tugs you forward, following the suit man to the table.

jungkook pulls your chair out for you. you could cry at the chivalry. you sit and he pushes the chair in, jungkook follows soon, sitting in the chair across from you. the man hands the two of you the menu and moves away from the table, standing back near to the elevator, waiting until you are both ready to order.

“this is fucking crazy,” you whisper-shout. the terrace was lit by these bright fairy lights that were hidden in the plants and were above the tables as well. it looked like little fairies and fire flies were in the air, roaming around.

“i know right!” jungkook looked as surprised as you were. “i asked my friends for some help and holy shit!”

“they know you’re on a date with me right now?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

to this he furrows his eyebrows, “of course they do, i talk about you all the time—”but he stops himself from exposing himself any further. you can’t help but giggle. “i mean, i asked them to help me make this special, and here we are.”

you swoon. he’s so sweet for planning all of this out and wanting to make you feel special. the two of you look through the menu, jungkook warns you not to look at the prices, telling you to get whatever you want because the price doesn’t matter. but of course, your eyes stray to the numbers, the meals costing a pretty penny for a simple spaghetti plate, the cheapest thing on there. you were craving pasta anyway, you didn’t mind. the two of you order and wait for the food to arrive.

the city of seoul was just below you, not too high but high enough to turn people into smaller figures of themselves. the night lights look gorgeous from up here. the warm summer night only complimenting the gorgeous atmosphere.

“the view is so pretty,” you gaze out into the city. the pretty colors from all the lights of the different stores and restaurants complementing each other so beautifully.

jungkook was in awe, he knows that the city below you is gorgeous, but he can’t seem to get his eyes off of you. your chin resting in the palm of your hand as your eyes search through the streets. “yeah…” he agrees, “very beautiful.” he smiles, only looking at you.

the food comes and you both dig in. the two of you enjoy some conversation with each other as you eat. the topic of growing up comes up, both of you explaining the occupations you wanted, and you said something that sparked curiosity in jungkook. “your childhood dream was to live in california?” he smiles, chewing on his steak. most of the time kids dream about going to the moon or finding atlantis, but you wanted to go to america?

you nod, “sounds funny right? when i was a teen, i watched a lot of 90210.”

“is that all though? you only wanted to go because of a tv show?” he asks. there’s something you’re hiding, and jungkook can see it in the way that you hide your smile.

at first, you hesitate, but you open your mouth to speak, “well— there is— no, it’s embarrassing.” you shake your head, changing your mind and reverting your eyes down. staring at the plate of pasta in front of you. guys you talked to didn’t wanna hear about it, they thought what you were into was boring, embarrassing almost. a part of you feared that jungkook would feel the same.

you feel his hand on your chin, tilting your head up. “i wanna hear about it.” his face telling you the truth, the sincerity in his eyes as he patiently waits for you to explain.

“there’s this science program in california, they explore new ideas for researching the ocean, like trying to see what lurks in the deep blue, helping fix the rising oceans, everything-- oh my god, and they like go on field trips to different countries to see the coastlines and historical sites—” you cut yourself off when you realize that you’re talking at the speed of light. “i’m rambling.” you were terrified to see his reaction.

but when your eyes finally meet jungkook’s, they’re full of light. and his smile is so big. “dude, that’s so dope!” he grins, “i didn’t know you were so into the ocean!”

it was the bare minimum, being nice, but that was hard to find when it came to the majority of the male species. obviously, jungkook is above average, he only proves that the more time you spend with him.

“oh, i love it! my parents would bring me to the beach and i would cry every time we would have to leave, aquariums too, and the fish section in the pet stores.” you gush, leaning into the table to tell jungkook more. he leans into his hand, resting his cheek against his fist as he listens to you spill your knowledge and love.

he notes that the next date should be at the beach or an aquarium. it was a great time for him to learn this, especially since it was summer. the weather in favor of the cold ocean waves. jungkook swears he can listen to you talk until the end of time. your sweet voice can be the narration to his life, he’d never get sick of it.

the food on both of your plates had been cleared, the conversation sizzling into a comfortable silence before the man came back to give you the bill. jungkook doesn’t let you see it, instead just sticking his card in the black folder thing, and giving it back to the fancy suit man. it wasn’t long before he came back, handing jungkook back his card and giving the both of you a lollipop with gold flakes encased inside.

you gasp at the piece of candy, now that was ridiculous. you weren’t one to reject a lollipop though, gratefully taking the candy and popping it into your mouth. jungkook does the same. it tastes of blueberry. at this point he stands up, moving in front of you and holding his hand out to you. “let’s look around? i heard they have a cool museum on the second floor.”

you take his hand, “i love museums!” the two of you make your way to the elevator, the man (he never told you his name) kept the door open for you both. he presses the second floor button when jungkook asks him for the museum. the elevator landing on the second floor, the doors slide open to show a completely empty art hall. this place shocking you every chance it gets. you didn’t think it could get better, but it did.

when the two of you exit the elevator, the man leaves you to it, taking the elevator down and leaving you alone. your eyes scan the place, huge paintings on the walls, small paintings in collages, some sculptures on the floor, it felt like a pop-up museum. you both make your way down the enormous hallway, both sides of the room’s wall displaying works of art. you stop at one specific painting, the familiar work has you spewing random facts. “these are the lovers! i had to analyze this once,” you speak. the art displaying a couple kissing, both of their heads covered by a white sheet. “the real one is in australia, i think.” you laugh, tapping the lollipop against your lips.

jungkook listens intently, but he doesn’t pay attention to the painting on the wall. everytime he does, his eyes always revert to you. the art doesn’t stand a chance against you in his book. you, yourself, were a piece of art, one that was rare in this world, one of a kind.

he can’t seem to resist. taking your hand and raising it over your head, the way that they do in ballroom dancing. if a twirl was what he wanted, then so he got it. “beautiful,” he compliments, pulling you in close for a hug. the two of you swaying in the middle of the hall of this stupidly expensive restaurant.

you look up to him, making full eye contact as the two of you lean on one foot to the other. probably looking like a lovesick couple, getting lost in the moment. which, you were. your eyes flicker from his eyes down to his lips, he seems to do the same thing. his hand moves to caress your face, the swaying ceased. now the two of you are centimeters apart, noses brushing against each other. if jungkook doesn’t kiss you now, he thinks he’ll combust. so when he feels you pushing forward, he does the same, meeting you in the middle. your lips connect. the kiss almost identical to the painting in front of you.

jungkook swears he felt himself levitating. your lips are sweet, the blueberry flavor of the lollipop lingering on them. he’s had his fair share of kisses in his life. makeouts, pecks, cheek kisses, all types of kisses. but something about this one tells him that he’s in for it. he’ll never be able to get enough now that he’s gotten a taste.

neither of you want to take it too far; swallowing each other's faces in a distinguished, five star restaurant’s museum didn’t seem very proper. so the two of you make your way out of the building, thanking everyone at the front desk, especially the man that helped you out today, and walking into the parking garage where jungkook’s car was.

when you get to his car, he moves to open the passenger door for you but you stop him with a hand on his arm. you reach to open the back door handle and his eyes almost bulge out. everyone knows what happens in the backseat, and jungkook did not prepare himself for something like this.

you look up at him with the most innocent eyes, but there’s something devious hidden in your smile when you ask, “do you wanna talk for a bit longer? in the backseat? it’s more comfortable than sitting in the front.”

jungkook never took you for someone this bold. it’s either you didn’t know the meaning of the backseat (which was totally fine) or you knew very well, and had plans to devour jungkook (which was also totally fine).

he chickens out, his hands starting to sweat. “do you want to just go for a little walk or something?” it’s not like jungkook didn’t want anything to happen, it’s that he did. if he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover from it. he walks a tightrope around you when it comes to his self control. one wrong move, and he’s terrified that he’ll fuck everything up.

“oh, it’s just my feet kinda hurt from these heels.” you pout, lifting you foot up to show him the almost stiletto heel.

his eyes widen. why didn’t he think of that? “oh— oh shit, i didn’t even— yeah, let’s sit.” he tugs on the door, letting you slide into the back seat. he follows, leaving a good amount of space between you both to make sure that there was nothing too suspicious going on. you hope your bold moves hide your nervousness, despite your confidence, jungkook’s unsure looks make you want to curl up into a ball. did he not want this?

the air was different now. in the restaurant the two of you had been so carefree, slow dancing in the museum, and landing a sweet kiss on each other’s lips. but now, an uncomfortable silence tears at the two of you. your hesitance makes you speak, trying to see if a conversation would ease the tension in the air. “i had a lot of fun tonight, kookie, thank you.”

it seems to comfort jungkook, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. with a small smile on his face he replies, “me too, i was really nervous you wouldn’t like the food.”

“oh it was good! i’ll eat anything really, it’s just—“

“you didn’t like the place? was it too much—“

“no, jungkook, oh my god— i loved it, it was just really expensive, i still feel really bad about you paying for all of it,” you look to him seriously. “let me give you at least my half?”

he shakes his head, “i asked you out on this date, it means i pay, don’t worry about the price.”

you roll your eyes playfully, “big spender huh?”

a pretty laugh escapes his lips. “hard worker too.”

to this you smile, you stare at his impossibly-perfect face, noticing a stray eyelash on his cheek. you see a chance to strike and you take it immediately. you lean forward to swipe it off. jungkook almost leans into your touch. he’s so terrified that he’ll embarrass himself right now, so he’s been holding back tremendously. but the way you pick the eyelash off and place it on your thumb with a smile on your face, it eases most of the tension in his chest.

“make a wish!” you hold your thumb up to his lips. his eyes cross to look at the piece of hair on your finger, but nevertheless he obliged. shutting his eyes tight, making a wish, and blowing the eyelash off of your thumb.

you let out a small cheer before you ask him, “what’d you wish for?”

“if i told you then my wish wouldn’t come true, right?” he boops your nose. suddenly, jungkook doesn’t feel so nervous. his nerves calming at the feeling of your soft hands against his face. you make him so nervous, but at the same time you make him so comfortable and make him want to be himself. it seems as though the two of you were staring at each other for a while. jungkook was thinking about how much he likes you, the same ideas run through your mind. the thoughts make you wish for something more.

“can i kiss you again, kookie?”

he stares at you, weighing his options. if he kisses you now, then he has to strategically only give you a few kisses, he absolutely cannot make out with you, or else, jungkook will succumb to his desires.

but he takes a little too long to respond. the both of you overthinking the fuck out of the situation. it makes you draw back. “it’s okay if you don’t want—“

“no, no, please, kiss me,” he brings you back, moving closer to you. licking his lips in anticipation as you slowly push forward, closing the gap between you both. the kiss is so sweet, like the one in the museum. jungkook can still taste the blueberry lingering on your lips. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of kissing you.

you pull away first. your eyes scanning his face to see any expression of regret. there’s none. his hand moves to the side of your face, caressing your face and bringing you to him once again to meet your lips. he can’t get enough. “tell me what you wished for, please,” you speak against his lips.

he smiles into the kiss. he wasn’t going to tell you, but since you were asking so nicely, he gives you a kiss on the cheek when he answers, “i wished for a second date.”

“oh, didn’t you know?” you kiss both of his cheeks before speaking again, “i grant wishes,” with wink.

“fuck, you’re so cute,” he thinks out loud, it makes you blush. pink cheeks out for show and jungkook thinks you look even cuter. he dives in for one more kiss, telling himself this will be the last one, but when you make sweet noises against his lips, it has him wanting more. hands moving down to your waist, pulling you in and letting you climb onto his lap. he pulls away first, trying to get a hold of himself. “i uh— actually, didn’t plan for this to happen,“ he mumbles against your skin, tripping over his words.

you look down, arms wrapped around his neck. “hm? what did you plan?”

“we were supposed to kiss on the next date i take you on and i didn’t think— we’re just ahead of schedule, that’s all.” jungkook tries to explain that he didn’t want to rush it, god no. he wanted to take his time, make sure that you didn’t feel pressured to do anything. but now, it seems like you’re taking the wheel and jungkook doesn’t mind it one bit.

“oh so you had like a real plan? like times and everything?” the thought of it makes you laugh, and the way that jungkook flushes makes you want to pinch his cheeks.

he pouts when you giggle, “don’t laugh, i just really, really wanted to do it right, you’re just so amazing and i didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

you smile at his concern. the fact that you have the uni heartthrob planning dates in his head down to the details and wanting to be sure he does it right makes your head spin. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the way that your heart is beating three times the normal rate when you go to kiss him again. the only sounds in the car are labored breaths and your lips smacking together. it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into him. his growing bulge rubbing against your soaking core. a groan leaving him when you grind particularly harder, his hands moving to your ass to grip it. you melt in his arms, small whimpers leaving your throat as jungkook drinks them up

you pull away from his lips, giving his cheeks attention then leaving a trail of kisses as you make your way to his ear. one final kiss is planted below his earlobe before you whisper, “am i ruining your plans, kookie?”

jungkook tries his best to conceal his groan, tries his best to ignore his incredibly hard dick in his jeans, but you’re so pretty and you’re on top of him, kissing him. it feels like a dream to jungkook. it is quite literally a dream come true.

he was already playing with fire, your body a flame in the cold, he moves closer and closer until he burns. “fuck plans,” he breathes. a hand comes back to caress your face once again. filthy thoughts flooding his brain. he wonders what being in between your legs is like, what you sound like when you cum. he wants to make you cry and beg for his cock. but he holds himself back, knowing that you’ll have time to try everything out, if you wanted of course. he leans the both of you forward, his large hands splayed on your back to secure you on his lap. your lips find each other once more. “can i touch you?” he asks so sweetly, a hidden poison weaving through that you can slightly hear through the deep rumble of his voice.

you’ve never wanted anything more. “please,” you nod. your lips chasing his when he pulls further away.

jungkook smiles at the action. “lay on my lap, baby.” he instructs, tapping your thigh. the nickname rolling off his tongue, his voice seemingly dropping an entire octave. you raise your leg and move it over to sit on his lap, sideways. your back against the car door and his right hand rubbing your thighs ever so gently.

“like this?” you ask, looking to him for reassurance. he looks to you with eyes that you’ve never seen, lusted and dark.

“mhm, perfect,” he nods. “good girl.” the praise goes straight to your belly, your panties flooding from how much you want him. his hands move slowly down your inner thighs as he goes in to kiss you again.

you’re absentmindedly spreading your legs, making room for him. he smirks against your lips when he realizes. he knows what you want, so his fingers move to your panties, lightly putting pressure over your clothed bud. you whimper at the feeling, biting his lip in the process. he moans in response, putting a little more pressure against your bundle of nerves.

“jungkook,” you whine, pulling away from his lips, “please.”

“please what, baby?” he kisses your cheek, “tell me what you want.”

“please touch me, please.” you beg, making eye contact with him. jungkook’s dick twitches at the sound of your begging. he wanted to string you along a little longer, but you’re being so good.

“since you asked so nicely, baby,” he obliges. bunching your dress up around your waist and noticing the pretty black lace underwear you were wearing, “for me?” he asks. you nod, your teeth taking in your bottom lip. he groans at the thought, you getting ready and picking out these cute, risque panties out just for him. it’s just too bad they’re gonna be on the floor on his car. he’s gonna need to ask for a rain check on admiring you and your cute underwear later.

you lift your hips to help him, underwear coming off to reveal your soaking pussy. “oh, fuck,” jungkook murmurs at the sight of it. “you’re so wet baby.” he almost starts drooling, he can’t wait to taste you, but he’s still hesitant, only wanting to do what you want to. next time, he can eat you out. right now, he’ll admire the delicious sight and make you cum on his fingers.

your eyes travel to the window directly in front of you, suddenly feeling insecure. thighs closing, thinking about how someone could look in and see. “what about the windows—“

“they’re tinted, no one can see from the outside in, i promise.” he reassures, giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek before asking, “do you still want to do this? we can stop now.” he’s so lovely, his concern and change in demeanor only making you want it more, knowing that he wouldn’t want to push you to do something you were uncomfortable with. sweet was sexy on jungkook. you never thought there would be a day that jeon jungkook fingers you in a parking lot of a five star restaurant, but here you are. and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

so you shake your head, taking his hand, and placing it back in between your legs. “please.”

“anything for you.” he whispers in your ear before running his middle finger up your slit, collecting your wetness, and spreading it around your clit. he continues making tight circles on your clit, the sensation drives you crazy. you lean your head back against the window, moaning out. it was almost humiliating how reactive you were, you hadn’t indulged in this kind of intimacy in a while, almost a year to be specific.

it wasn’t helping that jungkook was a fucking pro. the right amount of pressure and the placement of his digits against you has you dripping onto his nice, dress pants. you hoped nobody else was in the parking garage, else they would hear your cries of jungkook’s name. “more, kookie, more— fuck.”

“more baby?” he questions, the sound of your moans going straight to his already hard dick. he thinks he could cum just to the sound of your voice. he’s one hundred percent fucked when it comes to you. he dips his middle finger into your hole, you gasp in reaction. “like that? hmm? ”

jungkook knew was he was doing, he had you spread wide in the backseat of his car, already on the verge on an orgasm. he had a few years of experience on his belt, a ‘retired fuck boy’ he was, but he’s never wanted to please somebody more than he does right now with you. you just looked so pretty like this, so eager and begging for more.

he adds his ring finger now, his thumb against your clit. “oh, god—“ you mutter, the feeling of his fingers and his thumb on your clit is too good. his fingers fucking you better than anyone else’s dick ever has. you found yourself bucking your hips against his fingers. “kookie, kiss me, please,” you look up to him with the eyes he can never fucking deny. so he kisses you, drinking up your moans as you fuck yourself up onto his fingers.

“i didn’t know you were such a dirty girl,” he murmurs against your lips. your walls clenching around him, “letting me touch you like this in the backseat of my car?” his usual sweet demeanor now contorting into this cocky guy with an ego. it makes you even wetter. the squelch of your pussy every time his fingers push in is loud, the sound is music to jungkook’s ears.

“only— only for you, jungkook,” you whimper. you feel a familiar knot in your stomach tighten. he looked so hot like this. eager to please. his bottom lip caught in his teeth and a strand of his long hair dangling in front of his eyes.

“good girl, all mine,” he kisses your neck. it may seem just like something you say during sex, but jungkook wanted it to be true. wanted you and only you. all to himself. he makes his way to a sweet spot, the feeling makes you tilt your head, giving him more access to kiss and suck along the sensitive skin. the discomfort of your back against the hard door was the last of your worries. your orgasm creeping closer and closer, juices leaking all overs his fingers. “so wet baby,” he growls, “i know i could just slide in, fuck you so good.”

“p-please, i want it.” the thought of jungkook fucking you senseless, oh, you’d go crazy. begging wasn’t something you did when it came to sex, most of the time it was quiet, moans and breaths were the only things that you’d hear, no dirty words or praises. it was a good change, you never thought that you’d be so into being talked through it.

he smiles at your eagerness, “patience baby, gotta take you on another date, yeah?” kissing your pursed lips. always so sweet and lovely.

you feel his fingers push a little deeper, curling to find that sweet spot inside of you. your reaction does something to him, makes him hit the exact same spot, over and over again, in a slow, torturous beat just so he can draw those delicious gasps and moans out of you. jungkook feels close. he’s never felt like this before, so wound up. he ignores it, pushing it to the back of his head to focus on helping you reach your climax.

lucky for jungkook, he didn’t have to wait very long. his fingers were longer and a thicker than yours, his efforts making you get there faster than you ever could. the consistent deep strokes of his fingers make the warning signals go off in your head. you speak a verbal warning before, “fuck, i’m gonna cum,” your voice pitches a little higher than usual.

“gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” he gives you one last sloppy kiss before you’re moaning out and coming onto his fingers, eyes screwed shut as your walls convulse rapidly as his fingers fuck you through your orgasm. “fuck, you’re so hot, ___.”

you feel a smile break on your face. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you wink, still trying to catch your breath. a laugh slips from his mouth, small smirk on his mouth to match. he slips his fingers out, your body twitching at the over stimulation.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes. inspecting his fingers, your pale almost-white cum coating the digits. he brings them to his mouth, sucking on your sweet sap. you’ve never seen anything hotter in your life. “sweet, just like you,” he smirks. you shrink in his stare, hiding your blush. like you totally didn’t just cum on his fingers.

you’re distracted by the feeling of something hard resting under your thigh, it’s then that you realize, “what about—“ you start but jungkook cuts you off quick.

“no, no, it’s okay, it’ll go away soon.” he shakes his head, but you furrow your eyebrows.

you pull on his black tie, making him lean forward and make eye contact with you “can i?” you ask, so sweetly.

he stares at you with the most sexed eyes you’ve ever witnessed. “you’re driving me crazy.”

“you’re always so sweet to me, jungkook,” you kiss his cheek. readjusting yourself in his lap, straddling him once more. “took me on this amazing dinner, always treating me like a princess.” your lips travel down from his cheeks to his jawline, then to his neck. he shudders at the feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin. your hands move from around his neck to travel further down, to the latch of his belt. his breath hitches. “let me return the favor, kookie.”

“i—“ he laughs, the embarrassment evident in the pink tint on his face. “i won’t last very long.”

you didn’t mind, just assuring him with a sweet kiss on the cheek before you start removing his belt. jungkook leans his head back on the headrest, his neck exposed for you to kiss and suck. you unbutton and unzip, pulling his pants and his boxers down at the same time. his size makes your eyes bulge. he was huge. your mouth waters at the sight.

“you’re so big, kook.” you egg him on, fueling his ego because he just looked so hot. your hand moves to hold him at the base, he lets out a shaky breath when your soft skin meets his. jungkook’s head is in the clouds, he could cum right now if he let go, but he’s holds himself back, not wanting to look like a fool in front of you. your hand moves up his dick, your thumb collecting the precum dripping from his hole, your thumb running over his slit as he groans.

his hips buck up, “shit, baby.” he just sounds so good. you could just lick him up. you collect some saliva in your mouth, letting it drip from your mouth onto his dick to lube your hand. he groans at the sight, “you’re so filthy, baby, holy shit.”

you smirk at the admission, the spit making it so easy for your hand to glide against his cock. the feeling makes him throw his head back again. his chest rising and falling. the picture of him with his eyes screwed shut in pleasure and his mouth agape makes your lower belly light up once more, you clench around nothing. leaning in as you pump his cock to whisper in his ear, “wanna fuck me so bad? have me crying on your cock? you want that, don’t you, kookie?”

jungkook twitches at your words. that’s exactly what he wants. was he that easy to read? was that what you wanted too? the thought of it makes him want to explode, “oh— god, ffuck— fuck,” he sputters. his hand coming up to hover above his head, your hand still pumping as the spurts of his cum shoot out. you smile at the action, knowing he didn’t wanna fuck up your dress. instead just making a mess of him and his hand. he takes deep breaths before speaking, “there’s a little box of tissues in the center console, could you hand it to me, baby?”

you lean back, opening the console and reaching for the small box that sits in the center. before you give it to him, your eyes flicker to the sticky mess all over jungkook’s hand and groin. a sudden urge to lick takes you over, holding jungkook’s hand and bringing it up to your mouth. you lick the dripping cum from the palm of his hand as he watches, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

jungkook shivers, a smile creeping on his face, “you— you’re evil.” the remark makes you laugh.

“sorry, just wanted to help clean up.” you smile, swallowing the cum you collected on your tongue.

“yeah, yeah, you’re not the sweet girl i thought you were,” jungkook quirks a brow.

you roll your eyes playfully, “you don’t like it?”

“nope, i love it, you’re perfect.” jungkook wipes off the remaining mess from his lap and his hand. you help him clean up tissues and he picks up your panties that were discarded on the floor. the two of you fix yourselves before stepping out of the back seat, jungkook opens the passenger door for you before he goes to a trashcan and throws away the soiled tissues.

he joins you back in the car, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. you were rambling about how happy you were that no one was around and how there were no security cameras in the parking garage. jungkook blabbers too, telling you about how embarrassed he is that he barely lasted a few minutes. before the two of you knew it, his car parked in front of your apartment complex.

he stands outside of your front door, leaning against the doorframe. all dreamy and not like he just made you cum in the backseat of his car. “text me before you sleep?” he smiles.

you nod, “of course,” reflecting the same smile. you wave before closing your door. the date being more than you ever expected. there was no way jungkook was real. he had to be a figment of your imagination, he was the absolute dream guy.

you lay in bed, staring at the stars on your ceiling. a blush creeping up to your cheeks once more when you think about the events that took place tonight.

[11:02 pm] you: thank you for tonight, jungkook

[11:02 pm] you: it was magical <3

[11:03 pm] jungkook: no problem cutie, i had an amazing time with you

[11:04 pm] jungkook: feeling okay?

[11:06 pm] you: i’m great!!! more than okay

[11:07 pm] jungkook: 😂

[11:07 pm] jungkook: i’m glad cutie

[11:08 pm] you: lunch on me next time? now that you’ve taken me for dinner :)

[11:08 pm] jungkook: sure, i’m down :)

[11:09 pm] you: i’m rlly tired kookie

[11:10 pm] you: gonna head to sleep now

[11:10 pm] jungkook: alright cutie

[11:11 pm] jungkook: sweet dreams!

｡ﾟ(ﾟ^Ｏ^ﾟ)ﾟ｡ tag list: @giadalin @ggukkieland

2K notes · View notes

sinnabonka · 4 years

Text

It’s cursed speculation time: worst case scenario

I’m drunk Chuck and this post is my design for the ending. Or, I am Gabe from “Mystery Spot” and i am here to teach you a lesson.

Disclaimer: I believe with my whole heart that nothing from this post is anywhere near what we are getting. It’s me being sarcastic. It’s a joke. I think I’m being hilarious, please don’t take it away from me. None of this should be taken seriously. On the opposite, the solemn goal of this post is to show that you should put all the negativity aside and stop worrying. We are up for a happy end!

You can check my opinion here and here.

About ep 19 here.

Light, camera aaaand action!

Cas is not coming back. He just isn’t. The best season arc ever written in Supernatural? Oh no, you are just seeing things again.

Has been to empty before, bounced back twice? Naaaah, this time it’s different. This time it’s for good. No further explanation, just take my word for it.

Regarding Dean. He is not feeling this way about Cas, he can’t reciprocate and he won’t, this was a strictly brotherly relationship for him all way long. The looks? The jokes? The prayer? The parallels with Cain and his wife, with Sam and Eileen, Charlie and Stevie? The despair every time he loses Cas? He’s just a flirty little drama queen, sweetie, and you are delusional.

Sure, he is brokenhearted by the loss of a friend, but never mentions to either Sam or Jack what has really happened in the bunker. Why? Castiel is gone, that’s enough. No reflection on the matter whatsoever, they won’t ever speak of him again.

Character development who? Dean is still an angry man with his rock music, his car and his daddy issues, with “DON’T DESERVE - DON’T CARE” tattooed on his knuckles.

Cas’ confession goes in vain, as well as his sacrifice. Dean doesn’t get the message.

Dean keeps the jacket on as a reminder how hard he fucked up with the whole kill Bill(y) idea. It’s the coal fueling his anger, you know, the only thing Dean Winchester knows.

There’s also guilt, caused by the idea that, at the end of the day, Dean is the reason Cas is dead. Silly angel puts another brick in the wall of his self-hatred. The wall so high he soon won’t need Falcon 9 to reach Mars.

Forgiveness? Redemption? Learning, discovering new things about himslef for at least the last five years? Uh-huh, thanks, but no thanks.

Jack who? Something definitely went wrong with Billy’s plan of taking Chuck out, but we just pretend it never happened. We need Jack to sacrifice himself somehow, for the only acceptable ending, so he simply goes supernova. Again. But this time doesn’t miss.

What about Ruby? What about “you made it loud”? What about Lucifer attempting to get out? “Last time it took all the archangels to cage me” anyone?

Just sweep it all under the rug and forget it ever happened, for god’s sake, it’s not like every second of the show has to actually mean something.

The issue of Jack dying is also never addressed ever again, it just was meant to end this way. No biggie. His troubled relationship with Dean? Their touching conversations with Cas and Sam? The character’s arc screaming “I’m perceived evil, but I don’t want to be” not finished? Come again?

The show is about family. The Winchester family. And following the logic of never ending brothers’ deathly ping pong, it all ends with one of them dying during the fight. To save the second one, of course.

Which one? Dean always throws scissor, so it’s kinda predestined.

How? Heroically, given his unhelthy and unhelpful tendency to put everyone but himslef first. He didn’t even have to die, we see it clearly later, it’s done just for the sake of the Winchesters early seasons dynamics. Dibs on dying first!

Bobby? Eileen? Charlie? Another twenty humans? Sorry, kinda forgot to write them back into the script after they’ve vanished.

Let’s say they are not dead, just away. That’s a happy thought, right?

Everyone we cared about for years is either dead or gone, monsters are still lurking under the kids’ beds, but at least God is dead. That’s a win!

Fifteen years, a few apocalypses, a handful of deathes - yet no reflection, no regret, no lessons learned. The message from the creators: no matter what’s the journey, you still end up where you begun.

The last Winchester takes Impala, salts and burns the dead, and finally drives back to Stanford, following the dream of finally doing law after the exhausting years of killing, being killed and all the side effects.

And to celebrate the beginning of his normal life, Sam hits a dog, for crying out loud.

Happy end!

4K notes · View notes

from-a-reckless-writer · 3 years

Note

38 Supercorp

"Fuck fuck fuckity fuck," Lena angrily chanted under her breath, hands clenched tight around the steering wheel as she slowed down. The officer behind her had thankfully silenced their sirens at the first sign that Lena was pulling up.

She forced herself to take deep breaths and calm her anger from explosive to just simmering below the surface. She really doesn't need this shit today.

The motorcycle pulled up next to her, if Lena played her cards right she could get out of this without giving up her license. She chanced a glance at her mirror, good thing she decided to wear a low-cut blouse. She's not above using her...assets if it meant getting out of this quicker.

The officer kicks down their stand and swings off. Lena collects herself, checks if her lipstick remains immaculate, she's played this game with enough business men before what's the difference with a police officer?

The difference, it turns out, is that the police officer happens to be a woman.

A gorgeous, blonde woman that made Lena choke on her own saliva, when she took off her helmet only to reveal deliciously perfect bone structure and luscious blonde hair flowed down her shoulders. It was like Lena was watching those pretentious shampoo commercials in real time, the only thing missing was a slow-mo effect.

Said gorgeous, attractive, beautiful--Lena needs more synonyms--knocks lightly on her window and Lena has to rub her three functioning brain cells in order to lower her window.

"Ma'am."

Oh, fuck her eyes are so blue.

"Ma'am."

Will I get more than just a fine if I invite her to my place?

"Ma'am."

Wait- Why drive back when we can do it here in the car? She looks like the car sex type, doesn't she?

"Excuse me, ma'am? Do I have your attention?"

Lena remembers a conversation needs a response from both parties if it wants to exist.

She snaps herself out of it--with the utmost effort, mind you--and clears her throat.

"Hi, officer."

Hi, officer? Hi, officer. What are you? A drunk bachelorette?!?

Lena fights the urge to bang her head on her steering wheel and tries to pay attention to the words coming out of the blonde's lips and not on how she's got the perfect Cupid's bow and what would it taste like pressed to hers?

She catches, "-license,", "-your fine." and at least three more Ma'am's.

Danvers, K.Z. She takes an important mental note.

"Ma'am your license please???"

"Oh. Oh yes. Yes. Right."

God, if she says please and ma'am one more time I'm going to commit a much bigger crime.

Lena fumbles for her purse, almost ripping open the zipper in her haste.

"Here, officer." She thrusts the card out of the window, wishing the blonde's hands would graze hers in the process.

"You can get your license back at the main office on Monday, ma'am. Considering it's the weekend today," she says absentmindedly, scribbling Lena a ticket.

"May I know the reason for your over-speeding ma'am?"

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck uhm uhm-

"Oh, uhm, I didn't want to be late for my daughter's birthday."

WHAT THE FUCk?

"Oh. A birthday huh?" The blonde breaks into a grin so bright it lights up Lena's entire useless empty lesbian soul.

The blonde much to Lena's gay panic, pokes her head in and looks at the assortment of gifts in her backseat.

"Looks like a lucky girl. You must be a great mom."

Okay, so what if she didn't know what Ruby wanted for her birthday and got her everything that Lena thinks a thirteen year-old wants? And so what if she used her goddaughter as an excuse, sue her, at least she got treated to this officer's smile right?

"Thank you. She's 13 today. Didn't know what she wanted so I uh- got everything..." she gestures weakly to the gifts.

"Well, I'm sure you're going to make her happy today."

Yeah, I'm also sure you can make me very, very happy, officer.

"Mm-hm. Yes, that's the goal."

"Well, I won't keep you any longer."

Oh no please you can keep me as long as you like.

"Just don't speed again next time, alright ma'am? Tell your girl I wish her a happy birthday."

Lena stays there seated like an idiot as her eyes remains glued to the officer's err, backside while she walks away and mounts her bike again.

God, what I wouldn't give for me to mount her instead.

She gives Lena a small salute goodbye that was not supposed to be as hot as it is, before fitting her helmet and making the bike roar to life.

Lena remains stationary for a few moments, replaying the whole exchange in her head again and again. Before getting shocked into the present by her phone's shrill ringing.

Sam's face lights up the screen.

Shit, Sam's gonna kill me.

******

Sam doesn't kill her, at least not directly.

She does make her heart stop though.

"Lena!" Sam greets. "Finally! Ruby's waiting for you. Here let me take these. I have somebody I want to introduce to you."

Sam grabs the gifts from her arms and doesn't even bat an eye at the number of it all. She's learned not to fight Lena when it comes to spoiling Ruby. The house is decked in streamers and confetti. Outside, you can hear the high-pitched giggling of teenage girls.

Sam drags her out into the garden where the real party is.

"Sorry, I'm late. I got held up by-"

Lena's entire being freezes. Her sentence remains broken.

"Ma'am? I mean Ms. Luthor? I mean Le-wait your Ruby's other mom?"

"Kara! This is Le- other mom? Wait what? Do you two know each other?"

"Ruby's got another mom?"

"OH MY GOD, YOU'RE FINALLY HERE!!!!"

Everything happens so fast, suddenly officer--named Kara, apparently--is standing there in Sam's garden, Kara is saying something. And then Sam is also saying something and then a red-head that Lena has no idea who the hell is, is also talking and before Lena could even process a single thing, she gets tackled by a thirteen year-old.

"Happy Birthday, Ruby," She manages to squeeze out as Ruby knocks the breath out of her. In the distance she can hear Sam go, "Ruby! Careful!"

"Your gifts are in the living room," she whispers in her ear and then Ruby is off dashing, with nothing but a yell of "Thanks Aunt Lena!!" into the wind.

And now, Lena is faced with the reality of being introduced to the officer she's been drooling over.

"Okay, so let me clear this up. You got pulled up, by Kara here," Sam shakes Kara, who she's got under her shoulder. "For overspeeding because, and I quote, 'You were late for your daughter's birthday'??? Did I get that right??"

"Uh yes, that pretty much sums it up," Kara mumbles, staring straight at Lena.

Sam's got a knowing look on her face that Lena wants so badly to slap out of her.

"Interesting." Sam smirks at her. "Daughter huh?"

"Oh my god, stop it. I only said it so she'd let me go faster," Lena bursts out. "Technically, I am Ruby's other mom. I'm the honorary cool mom."

She really wishes her face isn't as red as she feels it is.

"No, you're the godmother and I'm the cool mom," Sam says smoothly. "But, before we get off topic, this is Alex and this is her sister, Kara."

Lena has heard all about Alex, dashing FBI agent and Sam's recent object of affection. What she hasn't heard about is, Alex's younger, more gorgeous and Lena hopes not straight sister.

"Hi, good to meet you, Lena." Alex gives her a firm grip which she returns with a smile.

"Hi," Kara says shyly, turning to her, she's wearing glasses and it's such a far cry from the person Lena's met on the road. This version is softer, somewhat warmer.

The blatant difference doesn't really deter Lena's want to climb her like a tree, though.

"Hi," Lena parrots back, holding out a hand. Kara takes it so gently and Lena feels like she's going to pass out when the warmth of Kara's hand envelops her.

She's blushing from her head to toe and she doesn't really care if Sam--or Kara for that matter--sees notices.

"How come I got here faster than you did?"

Well, that's because I had to spend at least 15 minutes on the side of the road trying to calm my breathing, trying to flush out the fantasies in my head and wow you're really gorgeous, has anybody told you that?

Lena settles with, "Ah, well, motorcycles are faster than cars I guess."

Kara gives her that smile again and Lena feels her face breaking into one too.

"Well, doesn't matter. I'm just real glad you're here now, Lena."

"Me too, Kara, me too."

prompt list here

#hello wow look at this incoherent stream of consciousness #in my defense tho i am strapped to bed and sick as fuck and i have nothing to do but these prompts so #here ya go anon #the reckless writer writes #prompt fills #i didn't proofread this so if u see a typo no u didnt #supercorp #rcklss writes

680 notes · View notes

221bshrlocked · 3 years

Text

taste you on my tongue

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader

Words: 9441 (I can’t fucking write anything shorter I’m sorry)

Warnings: Angst and Smut. Helmet is on and then it’s off. Oral (male receiving). Soft then rough sex. Breeding kink. Touch kink. Hand kink? Dirty/Sweet Talk. Mando feels primal when he sees you wearing his shirt and flirting with someone that isn’t him.

Summary: The Revenant was a fairly spacious gunship compared to others and you prided yourself in keeping it running for this long, especially after you were told it would soon lose its “life force.” But when a certain Mandalorian and his foundling join your ship following a disastrous mission, you find that the Revenant isn’t as big as you initially thought. In fact, it is much less private than you wish to admit and you find yourself escaping to a cantina one night to avoid the bounty hunter who isn’t aware of the effect he has on you. The problem is, the Mandalorian doesn’t like to share anything with anyone, and that rule applies to you. Unfortunately (or perhaps luckily) for you, you learn about this rule the hard way.

A/N: I hope yall like these because I’m currently spiraling down a Din Djarin hole and I’m not remotely apologetic. Let me know how it is in the comments and how I can make the smut better or the characterization better. Please, I can’t improve unless yall tell me what I’m doing wrong. Also, I promise to write more smut than angst next time. Enjoy :) And @purple-mango sorry it wasn’t as rough as you probably hoped, I was feeling soft Din but mark my words, the next one will be rough.

The obnoxious laughter coming from one of the corners of the cantina made you shake your head as the tavern-keeper approached you and motioned towards your glass. He smiled when you enthusiastically nodded and held out the finished drink, silently asking him to pour some more of the Tevraki whiskey because there was nothing you wanted more than to forget the past few months.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was something, or rather someone, that you wanted more than your need to set aside what’s been going on since that shitshow of a showdown on Tatooine. Coincidentally, or perhaps ironically, that someone had to do with what happened on the desert planet. You smiled at the man in front of you who knew better than to argue about how many drinks you’ve downed thus far.

As the thoughts slithered back to the source of your frustration, you couldn’t help but let your eyes take in your surroundings, shamelessly hoping to find someone who could fill that deep-seated need seeping through your chest and into your heart. No one would compare to him of course, and you knew that very well. But you couldn’t stand another hour on that ship without scratching that itch that’s been bothering you ever since he joined your ship with that annoyingly cute green goblin. You took a sip and returned your attention to the man wiping down the counter in front of you, already thinking of just skipping all the pleasantries and going back to his place.

“If you point him out to me, I can pay him a visit later and roughen him up a bit.” He leaned over and pointed behind you, pouring himself a shot of some weird blue drink before moving in closer to you again.

“Sorry?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, not understanding what he was referring to or if you had even begun a conversation with him.

“The sleemo that rejected you sweetheart. Why else would you be drowning in my best stuff?” He winked at you and you barely managed to not visibly gag at the ways his eyes raked over your form. Did he think this was the way to flirt?

“Maybe I just love drinking liquid fire, sweetheart. Have you thought of that?” You hoped you weren’t being too sarcastic with him because if there was the slightest chance of getting laid tonight, then you were going to do everything in your power to take it and run considering how there was no chance of you asking your now-permanent “roommate” for those kinds of services.

“Maybe. Either way, I’d love to help you forget about that sucker.” You took a deep breath and willed yourself to not punch him in the eye because the thought of being able to forget about the beskar-clad bounty hunter, even for a few hours only, sounded incredibly pleasant.

“Oh aren’t you sweet? So selfless and confident too.” You forced a smile before downing the rest of the whiskey and tapping on the glass again. If you were going to get fucked by someone like him, you needed at least three more drinks or else you wouldn’t be able to imagine the Mandalorian in his place. You chuckled at the depressing thought because here you were trying to forget about the man himself and yet went out of your way to make sure you were sort of able to pretend he was the one showing you the stars.

“Believe me darling, my intentions are strictly...honorable.” He poured you another drink and took a shot with you, his eyes widening in shock when you didn’t bother to wait another second before downing the whole glass in one go.

“Damn baby, he hurt you that bad?” You raised an eyebrow at his inquiry and didn’t know why the question bothered you so much. As much as you hated to admit it, the answer was a hard yes.

“Hah, hurt doesn’t even begin to cover it. And you know what the worst part is? He doesn’t even know he’s doing it.” You didn’t bother to ask him for another drink, jumping on top of the counter before leaning down and grabbing the whiskey bottle from the shelf right in front of his knees.

“You mean he’s still here?” He didn’t question your behavior, letting you take a long sip from the bottle before smiling down at your dazed expression.

“Here. There. Everywhere. He’s fucking everywhere all the damn time. I...he’s- maker...I can’t get him out of my kriffing mind. And the funny thing is, he probably doesn’t waste a second of thought on me. I’m just...someone with a fucking ride that can get him from one planet to the next.” You traced random patterns on the cold tile of the counter and didn’t realize that someone had occupied the seat just opposite of you and trying his hardest to ignore the way the patrons across the room continued to stare at you like you were a piece of meat.

“Darling, he isn’t worth your time. You need someone that...appreciates you. Tells you how good you’ve been.” You knew the man in front of you was just saying those lovely things to get in your pants but you couldn’t help the next few words from stopping even if you tried.

“Yes...gods, yes. Yes I do. But I wanted him to appreciate me. I wanted him to tell me how good I’ve been. I can’t blame him for not bothering to thank me though because it’s hard for him to hold a conversation longer than five minutes. I get that, he’s not used to it, he hasn’t needed to for so long. But it wouldn't hurt to acknowledge me every once in a while you know. I mean, do you know anyone else who’d willingly put their entire life on hold just to help some random introvert and his child find their way through this kriffing shithole of a system?” You knew you shouldn’t be saying any of those things out loud, let alone to a complete stranger. But he struck a nerve and you couldn’t take not another minute of not telling anyone how you truly felt. You needed to get some things off your chest and you sure as hell weren’t about to complain to the man waiting for you back on the ship.

“And- and do you know anyone that would readily give up their most valuable position in this world to a stranger they just met? I don’t.” You violently shook your head at him and felt your eyes fill with tears when you saw the way the man was looking at you. His eyes shot down to the bottle in your hand and you unceremoniously raised it to your lips before taking a long swig of the burning liquid, hoping by some miracle that this was enough to make you forget all about his stupid strut and his annoyingly low and gruff voice and the way he was so effortlessly kind to the kid.

“That ship. It’s- oh gah, it’s been with me through the worst fucking jobs. I fought for it, almost sold my kriffing bo-...almost sold something priceless to ensure it isn’t taken from me again. And it only takes some damn beskar-wearing, quiet, fucking who-knows-what-species nerfherder to save me once for me to voluntarily hand it over to him. Like it wasn’t a piece of me...like it wasn’t my home.” You were over sharing at this point and you noticed the way the man was beginning to lose interest in you so you made sure to grab his shirt and pull him closer to you before grabbing his forearm and digging your nails into it to keep his attention.

“Have you heard of the Revenant? You must have heard of the Revenant. There is no way you haven’t-”

“Yes, yes. I’ve heard of it.” He was exasperated but continued to attend to you, shamelessly letting his eyes follow a drop of whiskey roll down your shirt in between the valley of your breasts. You fixed your posture, pushing your tits together and giving him an eyeful of skin before ranting to him again.

“That’s my baby. My pride and joy. I always made sure everyone at the dock knew who it belonged to. Know why?” You grabbed his hand and pulled on it to make sure he was listening to you, laughing when he tiredly leaned down and forced himself to look away from your sweaty chest to your eyes.

“Enlighten me sweetheart.”

“Because it’s one of the biggest gunships out there. So much space that I don’t actually use. It’s a fucking beauty...but you know what? It’s all a lie. A sad, unfortunate lie. Because it took me spending the better half of the year with that kid and his tincan of a guardian to realize just how small it is. It’s like he put his mark on every corner of my home on purpose...just to drive me insane. Every time I sit somewhere where I’m sure he wouldn’t bother to come to, I’d still smell that- that...that fucking scent of his that I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what it is.” You had thankfully placed the whiskey bottle away from you and didn’t try to fight the tavern-keeper when he took it and put it back on the shelf, instantly returning to you to make sure you weren’t about to break anything.

“I even gave him my room. My room! Because ‘no one can see my face’ so he needs some privacy away from me but then there’s the whole ‘the child stays with me all the time’ and that womp rat can sleep in the little cot in my room with him while also giving him some privacy. Which leaves me, you guessed it, in the shitty lower deck where there is no door, not even a curtain, to give me some semblance of solitude.” You didn’t realize how harshly you were breathing until you stopped speaking and noticed the way the stranger continued to look at you.

“It has been a literal hell not being able to get myself off because he can walk in on me at any given moment. Picture that, not getting off for almost a year while being forced to remain in the same vicinity as him.” You didn’t care when you saw the man almost choke on his drink at your bold admission and looked around to make sure no one heard you. “Ughh, you’ve been such a good boy listening to me whining all night long and I think you deserve a treat.” You knew you had him as soon as he shivered at the way your fingers moved beneath his shirt and scratched his neck. “You look like the kind of guy that could fuck me within an inch of my life. Right?”

“Ah huh. Y-yeah.” He licked his lips before setting down the towel in his hands and inching closer towards you. And you silently swore at how absolutely pathetic he was because not a minute ago, he was trying to find a way out of this conversation and here he was thinking with his probably-disappointing dick.

“Good. And I promise to make it worth your while if you manage to make me forget his name.” You leaned across the counter and were about to kiss him when you saw something move across your peripheral vision, something that looked oddly familiar to your completely hazed mind.

“And what’s his name, baby? So I make sure you can’t rememb-” Before he could finish whatever he was about to say, you felt a large hand wrap around your upper arm and pull you back from the bartender and off of the stool. You almost tripped as you struggled to stand and huffed in anger before raising your voice to the distinguished individual who thought this was the time to fuck with you.

“Hey what are y-” You were about to take a swing at whoever it was currently bruising your arm when you followed the glint of the familiar metal and were met with your reflection staring right back at you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you blinked in confusion a few times at the visor currently tilted in an almost judgemental manner at you before attempting to wipe your hair with your other hand.

The Mandalorian slowly changed his focus to the man behind the bar and threw a few credits at him, hands immediately lowering to the blaster in his side holster when he saw where the tavern-keeper’s eyes moved towards. The stranger could only hold up his hand in defeat before walking towards the other side of the bar to lick his invisible wounds. The Mandalorian’s helmet turned to the rest of the cantina, daring anyone to approach the two of you before you left. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to follow the two of you as you returned to the Revenant. He could feel his patience withering away with every passing moment you decided to share what’s on your mind with the rest of the universe but him.

“Let me go.” You whispered to him, eyes maintained to the ground and cringing when you felt his hold on your arm tighten at the request. Before you could ask him again, Mando was turning around and walking out of the busy cantina, pulling you along with him aggressively and not leaving any room for negotiation. You winced as he pulled you like a child through the streets, avoiding the concerned and intrigued looks you were receiving. He was much taller than you and you laughed when you realized it must have been a sight to see some random woman getting dragged along by an angry bounty hunter. Mando couldn’t help but turn towards you when he heard your giggles break the silence, his annoyance spiking because there was absolutely nothing humorous about this situation.

You noticed the way he was staring at you and decided to quiet down, swallowing the lump in your throat as the cold air hit your sweaty skin and made you shiver.

As you moved closer to the ship, you realized there was a chance he heard what you had to say about him and your ship. Hurt and anxiety rose up your throat and before you could attempt and control the all too familiar feeling, you were tripping over your feet and falling to the ground, instantly vomiting everything you’d managed to eat and drink in the last couple of hours.

The Mandalorian hoped his obviously misplaced outrage wasn’t what led you to such a violent reaction, and he kneeled down immediately to hold your hair away from your face. When he saw tears falling down your cheeks and how hard you were breathing beneath him, something snapped in his chest and he knew he was definitely the reason behind this severe response.

“Don’t- oh gah….kriffing look at me.” You spat in between words and turned away from him, holding onto your stomach and to the grass beneath you as you continued to empty your stomach in the middle of the forest. At least you weren’t in the city anymore.

“We’re close to the ship,” he didn’t know what else to say and chose to state the obvious instead, afraid of using a harsher tone with you. Actually, he did know what to say, he just didn’t trust himself to speak the words out loud yet.

“Wopty fucking doo for-” once again, you opened your mouth and dry heaved until you were sure there wasn’t a single drop of whiskey in your system, “you and your stupid kriffing-”

“Please Ad'ika, let me-” You visibly shook at the familiar endearment you’ve heard him whisper to the child so often when he thought you weren’t around. It hurt to know he was throwing it around as if he wasn’t twisting the knife inside your heart with every breath he took near you.

“Let m-me go, p-please.” Mando’s sudden intake of breath was as loud as the silence engulfing the two of you and you swallowed your pride before looking into his visor, well aware of how awful you must have looked without the reflection staring back at you. He, on the other hand, grasped in that moment just how deep your words in the cantina were and instead of listening to you and allowing you a moment alone, he took a deep breath before softly pushing back your hair and wrapping one arm around your waist. You didn’t have any time to question him as the other went beneath your thighs and before you knew it, you were holding onto his cowl for dear life as he quietly walked up the ramp of the Revenant with you in his arms.

Mando pushed in the code to shut the hatch before making his way through the quiet halls of the ship, reaching hi- your room and going straight to the bed he has occupied in the last few months. As he put you down, he took notice of your body language and knew instantly how self-conscious you must have felt laying on the bed he’s been using since he joined you. The same bed which you sort of commented about not an hour ago. He watched as you forced a smile as soon as you saw the familiar green little womp rat peeking its head right before descending from the safety of his crib and wobbling towards you.

You tried to leave the bed but Mando was ahead of you, gently pushing your shoulder until you realized there was no room for arguing with him. Leaning down, he took the kid and put him back in the crib before telling him he couldn’t cuddle with you tonight.

You kept your hands clasped together and refused to look at him, eyes taking in the room no longer familiar to you. He’d moved things around, even put things away that he didn’t need. Your gaze shifted towards him unintentionally as you saw him approach you with a cup of water and wet towel. Pushing the covers towards you, he sat near your thighs as he handed you the water and began to softly wipe at your cheeks and forehead.

You shut your eyes out of fear of giving more away just by staring at his visor and Mando thanked the stars you had because he wasn’t sure he could truly look at you if they were still open. It was a ridiculous thought because he was wearing a mask and you’d never know how much he loved committing all those little muscle twitches to memory. But it felt strangely intimate to return your gaze and he didn’t want to make you any more uncomfortable tonight.

You sighed heavily at his touch and felt pathetic at how starved you were for anything that had to do with him. The man was wearing gloves and wasn’t technically trailing his fingers over your skin but it still felt difficult to contain yourself.

When he was done, he stood up and moved to the refresher, giving you a few moments alone before he imposed on you again. You gulped down the water and placed the cup on the floor near you, looking out of the large window to your right and noticing the dark blue skies moving slowly above you. It took you a few minutes to recognize that what you were feeling was no longer hurt but confusion. He’s acted so differently tonight and you hated to think it was because he was pitying you. It didn’t matter anymore whether he’d heard what you said about him or not. He would have found out sooner or later, and if you were being honest, you felt like he probably had some inclination for a while before but chose to not bring any attention to the topic to save you from embarrassment and rejection.

“Get some rest.” You turned towards him again, not realizing he’d come back into the room and was standing right beside you. Mando tried his hardest not to give away any of his thoughts but you knew what he was thinking as soon as you saw his helmet tilt down just below your neck.

When you followed his line of sight, you felt ill again but for a completely different reason. Of course this would get worse. You weren’t planning on seeing him tonight and you told yourself you’d have plenty of time to change out of his shirt but it seemed that the universe was not making this any easier on you. Mando couldn’t stop staring at the shirt wrapped so loosely around your smooth skin and how large it looked on you. If he was a decent man, he would have turned away when he saw you shifting uncomfortably under his gaze but he couldn’t help taking in the way your body seemed to react to his presence and before he could think about it, he was stepping closer to the bed and reaching out to touch the material of his shirt falling down your shoulder.

“I- I’m sorry about your s-” The words died in your throat when you felt his gloved fingers trailing down your exposed clavicle and you were torn between asking him what he was doing and letting him carry on without interrupting his curiosity. Mando barely held himself back from pushing you down into the covers and taking what he now knew was his but he noticed the sudden goosebumps erupt on your skin and finally managed to meet your eyes through the visor. The way you were returning his gaze was perhaps too much for him and he flinched away from you, clearing his throat and willing himself to think of anything else but the way you were practically begging him to take you. You parted your lips to say something but couldn’t find your voice, afraid you’d push him more than he could take and drive him away all together.

“It’s fine. It’s...I don’t mi- forget about it. You need to rest.” He spoke softly before walking towards the cot nearby and pushing the crib out of the door.

“Wh-where will you sleep?” You sat up and knew he noticed how much you were holding onto every single interaction with him.

“Good night,” he didn’t bother to respond to the question, turning off the lights and shutting the door behind him before making his way to the cockpit. You sat in silence for a few moments before slithering under the covers, sighing in annoyance when you noticed just how much this entire room smelled like him. Pushing your face into the pillow, you took a deep breath and felt shaken to the core when you were hit with Mando’s distinctive scent: sweat, beskar, and that damn featherfern wash he somehow found every time you flew by Nevarro.

As you looked out the metal blinds, you tried to brace yourself for the conversation you were most definitely going to have with the Mandalorian the next day. You knew for a fact that whatever decision he’d take will ultimately hurt you because there were really only two options available, one of which involved him and the child leaving and the other would lead to them staying but making things awkward since there was not a single chance he would reciprocate your feelings.

And the worst part was, you weren’t sure which was more painful.

The Mandalorian sat quietly in the cockpit for a while, making sure you were asleep so as to not wake you up as he moved through the Revenant. Seeing that the kid was fast asleep, he found himself leaving the small space and navigating to the lower deck. He passed by your room and noticed the lights were off, sighing in relief at knowing that you were finally resting comfortably. Arriving at the lower deck, he stood at the entrance of the large room and felt his chest tighten once he took in the state of the space. Turning on the lights, he immediately noticed your makeshift cot in the far right corner, unable to stop himself from moving towards it to inspect it. He shook his head in anger but this time it was aimed at himself and not you or the random tavern keeper who couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

How did he not know of this arrangement? And why did he not ask about your sleeping situation the day he joined your ship? Was he truly that unconcerned with anyone else but the kid or was it because he was reluctant to listen to Peli when she recommended you?

He’d only been in the lower deck for a few moments yet he felt his skin crawl with goosebumps. It was awfully cool down here and it took him another ten seconds to acknowledge that you’ve been living and sleeping here for this long without complaining once to him.

Everything you said about him earlier tonight crashed into him like a wave of guilt and he couldn’t stay in the room any longer, making his way back to the upper deck to try and figure out what he would say to you come tomorrow. As he slowly moved through the dark hallways of the Revenant, he heard a faint voice coming from the upper deck, muscles tensing instantly when he walked past your room and noticed you weren’t on the bed.

Not wanting to disturb you, he waited right outside the cockpit and listened to you humming to the child. He must have woken up and found his way back to you. As he crossed his arms and stood behind the door, he couldn’t help but notice how soft your voice was as you continued to sing a lullaby to the little womp rat.

How could he have not noticed…

“There you go, you little green goblin. If only I could sleep as quickly as you.” You whispered to him before tucking him into the crib while continuing to rub his abnormally large ears. “Your dad is really funny...thinking I’d be able to sleep in that room with his scent all over it.”

Maker, how were you so forthright with everyone but him? It hurt to know that he wasn’t someone you could whisper your little secrets to. Then again, it made sense since all of your secrets seemed to involve him.

“I pray he doesn’t tell me he has to leave now that he knows I...ughh, for both of our sakes little one.” Mando noticed the way you seemed incapable of finishing your sentences whenever you spoke about him and a deep part of him wished you would, if only to hear the adoration in your words. Rarely anyone spoke of him so softly and he had a feeling he’d only ever accept such words from you. It was quiet for a few minutes before he heard you whisper to the kid again.

“It just hurts to know that he’ll never see me as...as a-” He wasn’t sure if it was the heartbreaking tone of your voice or if it was the way you were reluctant to say your heart’s desire out loud but Mando couldn’t stand another second of you thinking you weren’t important to him.

“As a what?” His voice came out harsher through the vocoder and he winced at himself when he vaguely heard you jumping from the chair. A soft hiss came from the cockpit and he took a deep breath when he realized you’d just shut the crib and moved to leave the room. As you stepped out, Mando forced his eyes to remain on your face, refusing to look at your exposed legs or the way his shirt seemed to end right beneath your upper thighs.

Softly shutting the door, you walked to the opposite side of the room and knew the Mandalorian must have noticed your need to put as much space between the two of you as possible.

“We need to stop running into each other like this,” you laughed awkwardly and anxiously ringed your fingers, glancing at his visor before turning away and looking everywhere else but him. Okay, so humor wasn’t going to get you out of this situation.

“How’s your head?” You could feel how on edge he was and decided to answer with short and straightforward responses just to avoid any more awkwardness.

“M-much clearer.” You stood in silence until you heard the Mandalorian pushing off of the opposite wall and heading towards you. You didn’t have anywhere to go, eyes snapping to the door right behind him and knowing there was no way you could try to walk around him.

He stopped a couple of feet away from you and you ceased to breathe when you noticed how awfully close he was to you.

“Answer my question.” His voice was dangerously low and you found it difficult to try and think of anything to say when he was giving you no room to breathe.

“I- I did?” Your voice was far from confident and you watched as he gently took off both of his gloves before shoving them into his pockets. Even though he willingly removed them in front of you, you didn’t allow yourself to look at his skin, afraid you’d somehow offend him and his Creed. But then you saw his hand move towards your face, and gasped when you felt his fingers tilting your chin so you were looking into his visor. There was not an inclination of an emotion available to you but you forced yourself to keep your eyes open nonetheless.

“How do you want me to see you Mesh'la?” Mando whispered down to you and you swore his voice was hoarse as he spoke to you but you didn’t allow this moment to get to your head. It would hurt more than anything if…

“It d-doesn’t matter.” You blinked away the tears, wanting to wipe your face before anymore were shed but not finding it in yourself to move away from him. But then you felt his thumb softly rubbing at your wet skin, making you almost lose your composure as soon as he stepped closer in your space until your back hit the wall.

“I’m sorry Cyar'ika,” his chest was inches from your face, cornering you beneath his other arm before leaning down and resting his forehead against yours. You couldn’t breath, not when he was suddenly filling all of your senses as if it was the most natural thing to do. He felt your tears roll around his thumb and couldn’t bear the thought of you crying because of him.

“I’m sorry for making you think you don’t matter...you do, not just to the kid but- but to me as well.” Your knees gave out on you as soon as you heard Mando’s confession, barely managing to grab onto his forearms right before buckling against him. The Mandalorian wasn’t sure if that was the kind of reaction he was looking for but he immediately wrapped his arms around your back and legs before pulling you against his chest. You nuzzled into his chest and kept a tight hold on him as he walked through the dimly lit hallways back to your room. He could feel goosebumps take over the skin of your thighs where he was touching you and tried to distract himself from pushing you down into the middle of the Revenant and taking you right then and there. You deserved more than that.

As he reached the room and laid you on the bed, he felt your fingers clasp onto him harder and when his eyes trailed over your face, he knew you were silently begging him not to leave.

“I’m not going anywhere Ad'ika.” His reassuring tone tugged at your heart and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you watched him walk to the door and shut it behind him before moving to the refresher. You heard him shuffle around and allowed your mind to calm down, knowing very well that Mando wasn’t unkind and wouldn’t lead you on just to leave you. But then he walked out without his beskar armor and you swore you died and joined the stars. His helmet looked odd without his normal clothing and you knew he could probably see you shamelessly ogling him from across the room.

He walked to you and stood to the side, and you realized he was probably nervous. You pushed yourself against the wall and threw back the covers, hoping he’d understand what you wanted of him.

“Can I-”

“Please.” You cut him off before he could finish his question and he took a deep breath before laying on the bed and moving as close to you as possible. Before he could throw the covers over the two of you, you were already laying your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around him, fingers fisting into the soft material of his shirt unintentionally as you felt him relax beneath you.

You weren’t sure how long it’s been but you felt his heart rate finally come back to normal. Hoping you weren’t being too forward with him, you took his hand into yours and brought it to your lips, softly kissing his knuckles before turning his palm over to lay a kiss on his wrist. Mando was losing every ounce of control left in his body and his arm tightened around your back as soon as he felt the tip of your tongue against his hand.

“Pfassk,” you flinched at the rough expletive and raised your head to look at him, finding his visor already tilted down towards you. “I- I’m sorry I’ll stop if-”

“No..n-no, don’t stop. It just- you took me by surprise.” His chest was rising and falling more rapidly and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was as affected by this new level of ‘intimacy’ as you were, if not more.

You felt bold at his request, kicking the covers away before sitting up and moving to straddle his thighs. Mando was breathing harshly and mirrored your actions, sitting up against the cool metal of the wall before laying his hands on top of your exposed thighs. He let himself take in the way your skin flushed under his touch and smiled to himself when he continued to inch his smooth hands over your upper thighs until his shirt rid up your legs and revealed the pastel color of your undergarment.

“Cyar'ika…” He sighed when he finally forced himself to meet your eyes and found them dilated until there was barely any color left in them. You wanted to ask him what that word meant but chose to file it for later. Placing your hands on top of his, you smiled down at him before pulling them towards your lips and kissing his palms. Almost instantly, you felt him twitch against you, unable to control himself from bucking his hips against your heated core. You let go of his hands and laid your own on his chest, throwing your head back when you felt his tight grip on your thighs. You could tell he wanted to apologize but gave him no chance to do so, sliding against him until you were sure he was painfully hard beneath you.

“Maker...I- I could almost taste you on my tongue Mando. When you- you left me in here all by myself. I couldn’t sleep, n-not when I could smell you on these covers, not when I could feel you on my skin. I..gods, wanted to kiss you then, and- and I wanted to taste your- you...Please, c-can I? P-please-” You dug your nails into his chest and heard him throw his head back against the wall with every confession you moaned to him. He was never this unhinged and you wished to see him come absolutely undone at your touch.

“A-are you sure?” It pained him to ask but he needed to be sure that you wouldn’t regret this. Regret him.

“Mando, have you not listened to anything I’ve said tonight?” As much as you hated to remind him of the earlier and rather embarrassing events, you wanted him to know just how much he meant to you. You knew he was reluctant to let this relationship move forward and you couldn’t really blame him. This was all new to him. But you also didn’t want to stall, not when the two of you have become so aware of the other’s feelings.

You continued to rub yourself on him, shaking with anticipation when you heard him moan through the vocoder as you pressed yourself more confidently down on him.

“Mesh'la I-” Without warning, you took one of his hands and pushed it to your lips, slowly taking two of his fingers into your mouth and swirling your tongue around them until his moans grew louder. And when he pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth, you gripped his wrist tightly and groaned, making sure he could feel how much you wanted him.

“Y-you’re killing me sweet girl.” He wanted to loosen his hold on you, to take things slow, to not let himself get carried away with you, but he didn’t find it in himself to be gentle because he could feel how wet and needy you were above him and there was no way he was going to waste another second not being close to you.

“Please Mando, I want you, n-need to have you. I can make you feel so good. Please, can I?” You reached down and cupped him through his pants, finding him as hard as the beskar of his armor. He thrust up into your hand and swore violently before taking his hand away from your mouth and fisting it into your hair. You smiled when you felt him push you off of him, whispering something in Mando’a when he saw you pulling his pants down his thighs and throwing them behind you.

You bit your lower lip before moving off of the bed and pushing his legs along with you as well. Mando sat up and forced his hands to remain by his side, afraid his enthusiasm would make him get too rough with you and scare you away. When you laid your hands on his knees and pushed them wide open so you could get comfortable between his legs, Mando’s hands tightened around the covers and he hissed when he saw the way you were eyeing his cock. You were staring at him like he was a piece of meat and he wasn’t sure if he loved it or was embarrassed by it.

“Maker,” you whispered before dragging your nails up and down his thighs, watching as his cock twitched against his stomach every time you got a little aggressive with your touches. Looking up into his visor, you slowly leaned down and took the tip of his cock in your mouth, humming around him as you tasted precum leaking into your taste buds. That seemed to do it for him because one of his hands shot to the back of your head and fisted into your hair while the other moved down until it landed on your hand. He intertwined his fingers with yours and watched as you pulled back and licked the underside of his dick before spitting into your hand and wrapping it around him.

“M-mando, the taste of you,” you took as much of him in your mouth as possible while maintaining eye contact with his helmet, squeezing the base of his cock before reaching down and cupping his balls. Mando swore, involuntarily thrusting into your mouth and watching in awe as he saw a dangerous glint in your eyes right before you clasped his hand harder and somehow managed to take him in deeper. It was such a sight, holding affectionately onto your hand as you brought him to pleasure. Letting go of him with a pop, you laid wet kisses down the length of his cock, licking the protruding veins and smiling when you felt his hold tighten on your hair. “Is absolutely addicting.”

You could tell the exact second he lost all semblance of control because one minute you were kneeling at his feet, and the next thing you knew, Mando was pulling you up by your hair and throwing you beneath him on the bed. You wiped your lips with the back of your hand, watching his muscles flex as he removed his shirt expertly over his helmet. The soft starlight coming through the metal blinds of the window shone onto his skin and you trailed your gaze down his chest, finding the golden brown tone of his scarred body absolutely breathtaking.

“Mando, you’re beautiful.” You saw his hands begin to shake at your compliment, and you knew you’d take every chance you get from now on to tell him how much you adored him. You could hear him breathing through the mask and licked your lips when he looked down and saw the way you were playing with the hem of his shirt. Slowly, you began to pull on the soft material, about to take it off when he held onto your wrists. Your smile faltered for a second and hoped you didn’t somehow misunderstand his intentions.

The last thing Mando wished to see was your body giving away to shyness before him. Pushing your thighs open, he didn’t give you a chance to say anything else as he slid his fingers below the thin undergarment, violently ripping it off of you and discarding it onto the floor. You gasped when you felt him hard and heavy against your slit, taking both of his hands and pulling him towards you until he was only a hairbreadth away. He watched closely as you placed one hand around your throat while the other descended to your breast. You could tell Mando was reluctant to move so much an inch and when you pushed yourself against him, eyes daring him to do as he wishes, he found himself completely overtaken with the thought of you belonging to him and him only. You smiled when you felt the grip on your throat tighten, shutting your eyes and arching your back against him as the other cupped and pinched at your nipples through his shirt.

“If you want me to fuck you tonight, Mesh'la, then you’re going to keep my shirt on.” He could feel you shaking in his arms and smiled to himself at the knowledge of how much he affected you.

“Mando, please…” You would have continued begging him if he asked you to, but then he was moving away from you and leaning towards the window. Keeping your hands clasped to your chest, you watched as he shut the blinds until there wasn’t a single light shining into the room. You could barely see your own hands in the dark and wondered why he was shuffling above you. A soft hissing sound had you tensing in an instant and you ceased to breathe when you heard the faint sound of beskar hitting the ground.

“M-mando?” The question was more reluctant than inquisitive and you didn’t have time to react as you felt him lean against you until you were touching every inch of his skin. You blinked a few times in vain, knowing there was no way you would be able to see anything. But then you felt something soft brush against your cheek and as you turned your head towards him, Mando was molding his lips with yours, swallowing your gasps and sucking on your tongue as soon as you melted into him. He pulled away against his own will, but not before pushing your jaw with his nose until your neck was available to him.

“And my name is Din sweet girl, Din Djarin. It better be the only word you scream tonight as I fuck this pretty little cunt. Understood?” You weren’t sure if it was his deep voice that made you speechless or the fact that he not only took off his helmet for you but willingly told you his name as well. You committed it to memory, hoping this wouldn’t be the only time he took off his helmet around you. You’d always wondered what he sounded like without it, not comprehending that it could be so much sweeter than what you’ve dreamed of. And by the gods, his lips. How were they so soft and gentle? Maker, he had a stubble too, not a rough one but just long enough to tickle your neck as he kissed and nipped at your clavicle.

“Answer me Ad'ika.” He bit your shoulder to grab your attention once more, chuckling above you when you nodded frantically against him.

“You’re so soft Cyar'ika, I- I want to kiss every inch of your skin.” As much as you loved making him lose his mind at your touch, you had to admit you enjoyed him much more when he was in control. You smiled when he kissed along your shoulder before pushing down his shirt far enough to expose your breasts. Din bit down on his lower lip to contain himself, but then you were arching your back and pushing yourself into him and he couldn’t hold back. He kissed down your sternum, waiting until you relaxed in his arms before assaulting your nipples. You screamed his name as you felt his teeth tug on your nipple, hands shooting to his hair when you felt him grope and pull on the other.

“Din, oh ma-maker- your mouth is...f-fuck.” You could tell he was smiling as he aggressively licked the hardened bud before sucking on it again. Din pushed his cock against your wet slit, growling when you pulled on his hair and cried his name like a sweet prayer.

“I could smell your cunt sweet girl, so fucking wet and hot and ready for me.” Din pulled back and cornered you between his arms, bucking his hips into you until you were a needy and moaning mess beneath him. “Woke up countless times in this bed...hard and aching at the mere thought of you...d-dreaming of having you in my arms, wanting to sink into you, f-fuck you on every inch of this ship.”

“Din, please...I need you.”

The way you clawed at his back broke him and before he knew what he was doing, he was flipping you on your stomach and raising your hips against him.

“I need to have you Mesh'la.” Din leaned down and swiped your hair to the side, whispering the filthiest things in your ears as he took hold of his cock and rubbed it against your heat.

“I’m yours Din, do what you want. Fuck me, ruin me...cum in me if you wish. Just p-please-”

You made it sound so simple, trusting him. It was an odd feeling to know how easily you were giving yourself to him. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, not after what you said tonight. But something about the way you offered yourself to him, especially with that last request, had him seeing stars.

Leaning down until his chest was sliding against your back, the Mandalorian held you against him with one arm across your front while he slowly slipped into your wet cunt. You sighed in unison, and Din felt a sense of pride fill his chest when you dug your nails into his arm while your legs began to shake beneath him.

“You’re a dream Cyar'ika, the best f-fucking dream I could ever have. And you’re all mine.”

“Y-yes, yours. I’ve always been yours, oh gods Din please, move. M-move.” You were babbling at this point but couldn’t find it in yourself to care, turning your head to the side just to feel him breathe against your cheek. His stubble rubbed deliciously at your heated and sensitive skin, and you would tell him later that you hoped he’d mirror those actions but elsewhere.

“So tight darling, I- you’re everything. The things I- uhhh, the thing I want to do to you.” Din achingly pulled out before snapping into you again, biting down on your shoulder when you clenched violently around him.

“Din, oh Din-” You wished you could tell him how good he felt, how much he filled you, how often you craved having him inside you and how much you were losing it now that he was. But you couldn’t find a single word, not when he was fucking you like you were it for him.

The normally quiet man was groaning and hissing above you, pulling you along with him as he sat up and continued to fuck you relentlessly. You reached back and held his head against your neck, crying in pain and pleasure when he picked up the pace and his hold on your hip tightened. You were sure there would be bruise marks the next day but you couldn’t tell him to slow down or be a little less aggressive, not when you finally had him where you’ve wanted for so long.

“Fuck, fuck….sweet girl, did- did you mean it?” He was asking you something and you didn’t really pay attention to him, focusing on the way he deliciously dragged against your tight walls over and over again. Din knew it wasn’t fair to ask you anything right now but he had to know. Needed to.

He stopped his movement all together, sinking as deep into you as possible and tightening his grip on your throat.

“Pfassk...answer me darling.” Din whispered into your ears and reached down to where you were joined, softly slapping your clit until you twitched and begged him to repeat his words again.

“I said, did you fucking mean it when- kriffing hell, when you said I could...c-cum in you?” He was reluctant to ask but there was no point in denying either of you.

“Yes, gods yes. I told you Din, d-do what you want with me.” You forcibly loosened the fingers around your throat and brought them to your lips, biting the palm of his hand as he resumed thrusting into you.

“Mesh'la...you’re such a sweet girl, letting me b-breed you...taking my cock so well, letting me fill you up. You were made for me darling. This cunt, this sweetest and tightest kriffing pussy was made for my cock.” He pronounced each word with a harsh push of his hips and you smiled when you heard how low his voice suddenly became. The sounds of skin slapping on skin filled the room and you hoped the child wouldn’t wake up from how loud the two of you were being.

“You’re mine darling. Won’t let anyone else touch you...fucking look at you even. Maker I- I almost lost it tonight in the cantina.” There was a hint of self-consciousness in his words and you hoped he didn’t think you could ever replace him.

“D-din..” You wanted to tell him no one else would compare but he didn’t give you a chance.

“Talking about me like I- fuck, like I didn’t care about you, like I don’t picture you coming on my cock every waking moment of my day. And flirting with him in my shirt...my kriffing shirt. I almost lost it when he put his hands on you sweet girl.” You weren’t sure if he had somehow become harder inside you or if it was his words that made you attuned to the feeling of him pushing into your cunt but you turned your head and kissed his cheeks, hoping he’d understand what you were trying to tell him with your touches.

“You’re the only one f-for me.” Din let go of your neck and held onto your hips, no longer caring about how rough he was being with you. Your heavy sighs were the only warning he had right before your tight walls convulsed around his dick and he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, falling on top of you and bucking his hips slowly into your cunt until you begged him to slow down.

“Cyare, ah pfassk, that’s it. Keep squeezing me darling. I’m so close, so close. Ah fuck, you’re mine. Mine, not letting you go. N-never letting you go. Oh maker...ner runi...ner. Ner. Riduur. My sweet girl...riduur.” Din didn’t realize what he’d said until the words were left hanging in the air and he felt a rush of relief wash over him as he finally admitted how he felt about you.

“Din, I lo- ahh gods please.” He silenced your screams with his hand, losing his rhythm as he came in hot spurts of cum inside you. Din bit down onto your shoulder just as you bit on the palm of his hand, continuing to push his seed deep inside you until he felt you a mixture of your juices seeping out of you. Neither of you moved for a few moments, relishing the way you fit so perfectly with each other. You could feel him breathing heavily against your back and smiled with pride when you realized you were the only one that got to see him like this.

Din didn’t want to stop touching you, falling to the side and grabbing your flush to him only to hiss when you unintentionally clenched around his softening cock. You kissed his wrist as he pulled the covers over the two of you, not bothering to move a muscle mostly because you knew he didn’t wish for you to leave him.

He kissed along the bruised ridges of your shoulders, drawing circles on your navel and smiling when you giggled beneath him.

“I wasn’t too rough with you was I?” He asked embarrassingly, not knowing what he’d do if you said yes.

“You were perfect Din...you- you are perfect.” You turned your head far enough in hopes of catching his attention, letting out a deep breath when he leaned over and captured your lips in a chaste kiss. He was so soft and you didn’t know which side of him you enjoyed more but you were sure you wanted to get to know him, all of him. His likes and dislikes.

“Far from it Mesh'la. I...I went to the lower deck and saw where you’ve been sleeping.”

“Oh…”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Din rose on his elbow, seeking your hands in the dark and holding onto your fingers as he raised your hand to his mouth and kissed along your hand.

“I- I didn’t want to make you think you weren’t welcome. Peli told me about the Creed and well, there isn’t any sort of privacy down there really. And the kid would’ve been cold. I know how much he likes to cuddle next to you when he sleeps.”

“But you’ve been-”

“I’ve slept in worse conditions, believe me.” He didn’t say anything else in response but you knew he was very much thinking about it.

“Din, I wouldn’t change a single moment. Not one. Because each one led me here, to this bed, in your arms. I would relive every mission and every cold night and every awkward conversation again if I knew I’d end up here with you. You’re the closest thing I have to a..a-”

“Family.” He broke the silence before lying back down and pulling you as close to him as possible.

“Promise me you won’t get drunk by yourself in a cantina again.” You wished you didn’t laugh out loud at the random request because Din swore behind you before his grip loosened a bit.

“I’m sorry I...I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just, here I am pouring my heart out and the only thing you could follow up with was that.” When he didn’t say anything in return, you grabbed his arm and pulled him back to you. “And yes, I promise not to get drunk in a cantina by myself ever again.”

“Good.”

“But I can’t really make any promises about not flirting with anyone because if it means I get to have you all hot and bothered then-”

“Sweet girl, you’re going to regret ever thinking of that…”

Translations:

Sleemo - This Huttese insult was pronounced slay-mo and translated as "slimeball," a rude insult.

Ad'ika - Little one

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Pfassk - An adaptable expletive

Cyare - Beloved

Ner - Mine.

Runi - soul; only used poetically

Riduur - partner, spouse, husband/wife

#The Mandalorian fanfiction #The Mandalorian x Reader #The Mandalorian smut #mando x reader #Mando smut #Mando fanfiction #Din Djarin x Reader #Din Djarin smut #Din Djarin fanfiction #The Mandalorian #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #star wars #star wars fanfiction #baby yoda #grogu

1K notes · View notes

nebulablakemurphy · 3 years

Text

Miss American Pie

Chapter Two: The Perfect Partner Project

Warning!: This series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader pairing. Please keep scrolling if that’s not for you. 💜

Summary: After you’re freed from Dreykov’s control you team up with Yelena and Natasha to take down the red room.

Chapter One : Chemical Subjugation

“I thought you had a jet?” Yelena cocks her head to the side, as you approach the decrepit helicopter.

“I asked for one.” Natasha mutters, under her breath.

“This isn’t a jet.” You add, the closer you get, the worse it becomes.

“I realize that!” The man who’d been standing with his back to you whips around to defend himself. This must be Natasha’s friend. “But you know what you didn’t give me? Time. Or money. I’m not made of jets.”

“Aww, he’s sensitive.” Yelena coos, “I see why you keep him around.”

“I’m not sensitive.” He protests.

“Of course not,” you smirk.

“Listen you-“ he breaks off. “Who are you again?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” Yelena introduces you, climbing aboard. “She’s my partner….” She shrugs, “you name it really.”

“Partner works.” You chuckle, joining her in the cockpit.

“If you say so,” Yelena waves a dismissive hand. Getting a feel for the controls.

“Wonderful,” the man acknowledges your title.

“Thanks for the ride, Dick.” You salute him through the front window.

“It’s Rick,” he calls back.

“I know.” You give him a thumbs up. Waiting until he turns back to his conversation with Natasha. Taking the opportunity to lean down, kissing the top of Yelena’s head.

She cranes her head back to see you.

You nuzzle your nose against hers, until an exaggeration throat clearing tears you apart.

“We don’t have time for this.” Natasha, of course.

Yelena scowls at her, “yeah, yeah.”

Breaking Alexei out of a maximum security prison using only an earpiece, stowed inside of an action figure is a terrible plan. Nearly as bad as using him for information on how to locate a facility that’s impossible to find, run by a man who’s too slippery to kill.

That doesn’t stop you though. Generally speaking it’s going well. Until one of Yelena’s shots triggers an avalanche.

“Woah.” She marvels at the scene before you, her masterpiece. “Now this would be a cool way to die.”

“Yeah,” you holler back, sarcastically, over the chaos.

“You were getting no where with your tiny guns.” Yelena points out.

“Slow and steady wins the race,” you remind her.

“Fast is better. Solves problems.”

“And clearly creates new ones.” You jerk your chin toward the mountain.

“Get us out of here!” Natasha’s voice blares through the headset.

“I’m on it.” Yelena assures her. Moving into a better position for extraction. “Watch the side window.”

At her request you shuffle to the main ship. The prison guards are still putting up a fight. Inmates running in every direction.

“Alright, Natasha’s with us.” You confirm, once she’s secured her place on the black hanging rope. “Circle between the walls on your left to grab Alexei.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Yelena snarks, steering the plane away from another explosion.

“You’re doing a great job.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“Fine,” you huff. “The spot is tight and the angle is bad. I don’t know how you’re gonna pull this off.”

Yelena is silent, processing the information. “Lie to me a little.” She amends.

“You got this.” The blinding wall of white threatens to swallow Alexei whole. You’re holding your breath too as the rope moves past the metal bridge he’s standing on.

“Well?” She yelps, impatiently.

“I don’t know. I can’t see.” Once the snow and ice clears, you spot two figures carefully scaling the rope. “Yelena?”

“Hmm.” She hums, expecting the worst.

“I knew you had it.”

“Yes,” Yelena sighs, before falling into easy laughter. More invested in this than she will ever admit.

————————————————————-

Unfortunately, entertaining as Alexei may be, he has next to no information about Dreykov.

Instead he drawls on and on about how the man wronged him. Stuck him on that “boring mission” in Ohio. Then tossed him in jail and threw away the key because of…hair? A party?

You weren’t entirely sure. You excuse yourself to the vacant seat beside Yelena. Giving her thigh a reassuring squeeze.

Full lips twitch up into a grin.

“Tell us where the red room is.” Natasha grumbles.

“I have no idea!” He shouts, and then in Russian. “Why don’t you ask Melina?”

“Mom Melina?” Yelena whips her head around.

“We thought she was dead.”

“You cannot kill a fox that swift,” Alexei sucks in a breath.

You choke on your own saliva.

“Ew.” Natasha winces.

“What?” The man shrugs. “She was the master mind. His architect.”

“Are you telling me that Melina works for the red room present day?” Natasha leans closer.

“Yes,” he nods. “Remotely, outside Saint Petersburg.”

“I don’t think we have enough fuel for Saint Petersburg.” Yelena decides, after checking the needle on the gauge.

“We’ll make it.” Alexei waves away her concern.

“Ok,” Yelena mutters.

You look over at her.

“We’re not going to make it.” She mouths, with a shake of her head.

You smirk, closing your eyes and relaxing into the seat. It’ll be nice while it lasts.

Before long you’re falling into a controlled crash, at the Saint Petersburg city limit.

“So,” Yelena jumps out onto the dirt. “Are we there yet?”

“No, you will know when we are there.” Alexei begins snorting like a pig.

——————————————————————-

You take a seat in the chair opposite Yelena inside Melina’s humble abode. Her pigs can be heard carrying on out in the yard and Alexei’s early snorting makes perfect sense now.

Your eyes dart around the three women at the table uncomfortably as noises continue erupting from the bathroom. “Everything alright in there?” You bellow, loud enough for your voice to carry down the hallway.

Another groan is the only response.

“Let’s drink,” Melina’s voice breaks the tension. She fills each of your shot glasses in turn.

“Thanks,” you raise the clear liquid and toss it back. Feeling it burn it’s way down your throat before going back for another.

After a moment a clunking from the doorway calls your attention.

“It still fits.” Alexei announces, having stuffed himself into his old costume.

Melina whistles, with a slow clasp as he approaches the seat at the head of the table. “I never washed it once. Come eat.”

He hums a tune under his breath, reliving days gone by. “Look at us, family back together again.” If you didn’t know better you’d think it was sweet, he seems…happy.

“Well,” Melina swallows, dishing mashed potatoes onto his plate. “Seeing as our family construct was just a calculated ruse that only lasted three years, I’m not sure we can use this term anymore.”

“Agreed,” Natasha perks up. “So here’s what’s going to happen-“

“Reunion then.” Alexei offers instead. “I want to say something right off the bat.” He says to the woman who’d once been his wife. “You haven’t aged a day. Just as beautiful and supple as the day they staged our marriage.”

Melina moves closer, “you got fat, but still good.”

“I just got out of prison,” he confesses, “I have a lot of energy.”

“Ooohooo.” The older woman exhales.

You can’t help the bubble of laughter that forces its way from your chest. Covering your mouth with your hand as Yelena takes another shot.

“Please don’t do that.” Beside you Natasha looks physically ill as she protests. Swallowing down her disgust she begins again. “So listen. Here’s what’s going to happen.”

“Natasha don’t slouch. You’re going to get a back hunch.” Melina flicks her fork in Natasha’s direction.

“What? I’m not slouching? I don’t slouch.”

“Eh, listen to your mother. Up! Up!” Alexei joins in.

“I told you, I don’t want any food.” Yelena pushes her plate away.

“Eat a little something Yelena, for God’s sake.” Melina says, piling food onto her plate.

Yelena groans.

“Are you kidding me? Stop it all of you. This is ridiculous.” Natasha bites out.

“Me? I didn’t do anything. That’s not fair!” Yelena argues.

“It’s true, she’s just sitting there.” You shrug.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Natasha roars, effectively silencing the room. “You’re going to give us the location of the red room.”

Melina purses her lips, avoiding the topic. “It’s like when you told them they could stay up to catch Santa Claus.”

“That was fun!” Alexei recalls. “Look out girls, he comes down the chimney. And when the cookies are gone you know he is there.”

Melina clicks her tongue.

“What? I want them to follow their dreams, shoot for the stars girls.”

“No good.” Melina disagreed.

“Killing Dreykov isn’t a fantasy. It’s unfinished business.” Natasha looks between the two of them.

“You cannot defeat someone who commands the very will of others.” Melina says, softly. “You never got to see the culmination of what we started in America. After the perfect partner project was rejected, we took a different route.”

“The perfect partner project?” You repeat, racking your brain. You’ve heard that somewhere before.

“Why’d Dreykov scrap the project?” Natasha’s voice cracks like a whip.

“I don’t know.” Melina’s eyes dart down to her plate.

You can see that she’s lying.

“That’s when we turned our focus to chemical subjugation.” Melina continues, “the control is so profound that when the subject is instructed to stop breathing. They have no choice but to obey.”

Yelena shakes her head. Perfect lips turned into a frown. Hazel eyes glistening with tears as they meet your own.

“That’s enough.” You warn the older woman, seeing the expression. The last thing you want to do is cause her anymore pain.

“No.” The blonde insists. “Tell me more about the partner project.”

“Yelena, we don’t have to do this.” You shake your head.

“Yes, we do.” Yelena slams her fist against the table in frustration.

“The extraction was messy to start. A high profile missing children’s case in North America. But the bond was very strong. Enhanced through targeted conditioning and subliminal messages. Until something happened that Dreykov did not anticipate.”

“What happened?” Natasha wonders.

“The girls became…attached.” Melina’s mouth twitches, “so they were separated.”

“Do you know who they tested on?”

Melina’s guilty eyes land on you. “I am sorry.”

“No,” you suspected, maybe. Somewhere in the back of your mind. You spent the first six months in the red room under solitary confinement. Rapidly and rigorously conditioned in a matter of weeks instead of years. Preparing you…for her. The teenager girl you couldn’t stand, the woman you eventually came to love.

“You,” Yelena laughs, although it’s not particularly funny. “Us.”

“Yelena-“ you reach for her hand across the table.

“Don’t,” she snaps. “Don’t tell me that it will be ok. They stole your life because of me. I never asked them to do that. I never asked for you!”

“I know.” You assure her. None of this was ever her fault.

“That’s right, because you know everything. Don’t you, Y/N?” Yelena scoffs, her hands balling into fists on either side of her dinner plate. “You know what I think. You know what I feel. Look at you. Ready to come out of your own skin because I am unhappy. Prepared to move mountains, prepared to start wars.”

“Like you’re any better.” You challenge, she knows you like the back of her hand.

“That is my point!”

“I’m sorry that this happened.” Alexei interrupts. Surely gearing up for a ‘father of the year’ speech. “But we are here now. All together! Wasn’t that worth a few years of-“

“Shut up!” Natasha growls at him. “You are an idiot.”

No response.

She moves her attention to Melina, “and you’re a coward. You’re a coward. And our family was never real. So there’s nothing to hold on to. We’re moving on.”

“Never family, huh?” Alexei throws up his hands. “In my heart I am simple man. For a couple deep undercover Russian agents I think we did pretty great as parents.”

“Yes,” Melina nods her agreement. “We had our orders and we played our roles to perfection.”

“Who cares? That wasn’t real.”

“What?” Yelena’s voice breaks.

“That wasn’t real.” Natasha repeats for emphasis. “Who cares?”

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. It was real. It was real to me. You are my mother!” Yelena all but sobs. “You are my real mother, the closest thing I ever had to one. The best parts of my life were fake.” She pauses, drawing in a steadying breath. “And none of you told me.”

You swipe at the tear that escapes your eye. Traitorously running it’s way down your cheek. It was never fake. Perhaps arranged, but never fake. The way you want to wrap her up in your arms, protect her from her own sadness. The way your heart breaks in time with hers. That is real. It has to be.

She turns back to the woman who she considered a mother. “Those agents that you chemically subjugated around the globe…that was me too.”

Finally she addresses Natasha, “and you. You got out. It is impossible to escape. Are you going to say anything?” A pause. “No.”

She pushes her chair from the table, taking the bottle with her as she stands. Turning her back in the four of you.

“Yelena.” Natasha calls after her. Guilt eating away from the inside out.

“No.” Yelena dismisses her a second time. Moving into the next room and closing the glass doors behind her.

You look down at the plate of food in front of you, now lacking any appeal.

“I had no idea.” Melina whispers, wringing her hands.

“I’ll go to talk to her.” Alexei offers, rising to his feet.

“About what?” You hum, “how you handed her over to a life of pain and suffering at the age of six? How you experimented on her? How you didn’t come back for her? Yeah. I’m sure that’s just what she needs right now.”

With that you excuse yourself, back out to the front yard. Slowly circling the perimeter of Melina’s cottage. Not looking for anything in particular. Just killing time until someone produces information about how to get to Dreykov.

The blinding light that appears moments later catches you off guard. A team of men exit one of the three circling planes. Since you couldn’t find the red room, this is the next best thing.

—————————————————————

Waking up is disorienting, coming to from a tranquilizer always is. It’s bright, almost blindingly so. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. You attempt to use your hands to cover them, only you can’t move your hands.

Leaning up as much as your restraints will allow you discover that you’re strapped to an operating table. And you’re not alone.

“Yelena?”

“Miss American Pie,” she drawls from a similar position. Neither of which gives you much chance to escape whatever fate awaits.

“You’re not allowed to die mad at me,” you grumble.

“I’m not mad at you.” She blinks slowly, as the surgeon marks a clean line at the perimeter of her hairline. “I’m just mad.”

“Yeah,” you let out a laugh, turning back to the light above the gurney. “Me too.”

“You are my perfect partner.” She murmurs, while gloved hands busy themselves with preparations. “I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

There’s a beat of silence between you. Acceptance…peace. “I love you, you know.”

At this Yelena smiles. A genuine, happy, smile. “I know.”

Something to remember her by.

The syringe at your neck releases a sedative into your blood and you fall asleep. One last time.

—————————————————————

Dying is peaceful, gently rocking in the ocean. Then swaying more violently, giving you the urge to be seasick. Your body should move with the force of it. But something holds you steady, something warm.

“Yelena?” You croak.

“Not quite, but there is resemblance, huh?” A different voice greets you.

“Alexei?” You realize, pushing yourself into a sitting position.

“That’s a girl, up you go.” He says, clapping a hand against your back.

“What happened?” You ask, “where’s Yelena?”

“Still inside,” Melina confirms. “Brought you here so you’d be safe.”

“Natasha?”

“They’re coming.”

You sigh, ready to jump out the open door of the hovering chopper.

“What are you doing?” Alexei demands.

“Going to find them.”

“Wait! Y/N, wait.” He pleads. “There’s something I must tell you. I tried to tell Yelena but I don’t have earpiece.”

“What?” Your brows furrow.

“Never mind that.” He shakes his head. “The point, is you were right. What you said about Yelena. We complete our mission, we move on. But losing her, losing my girls is my biggest regret.”

“I’ll tell her, don’t worry.” You give his shoulder a squeeze.

“Please let me finish.” He stops you again. “She carried your unconscious body through burning building, through explosions. This is not easy, you are very heavy.”

“Oh, Alexei!” Melina scolds him.

“Not that.” He amends, “you know what I mean. It is dead weight.”

You nod, “sure.”

“I look at you together and I see true love and I am happy. You are family now, and this time…we are going to stay together. We’re not leaving without you.” The older man says, helping you onto the metal grate of the falling red room.

Not a second later an explosion rings through your ears, sending Melina, Alexei and your get away vehicle spiraling to the ground.

“It’s the thought that counts,” you’ll make a new plan.

You run toward the flames and gunfire. “Yelena!” You call out, searching the surrounding area.

“Y/N,” Natasha finds you. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t find Yelena.”

“I thought she was with you.” The woman frowns.

“Well she wasn’t!” You bite out, fear and frustration getting the best of you.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find her. You go-“ the red head pauses. Her eyes focused on something behind your head.

You turn to follow Natasha’s gaze. Finding her. Yelena. The wild, unpredictable, firecracker of a woman. On the wing of the jet with Dreykov inside.

“Yelena! Stop!” You rush over, realizing what she’s about to do. Her staff poised at the propeller.

She pauses at the sound of your voice.

“He’s not worth it.” No one is worth it. Not when she is the cost.

Yelena smiles, eyes alight with mischief, “I love you, you know.”

“I know.”

Natasha tries to reason with her. “Don’t do it!”

“This was fun.” Yelena tells her sister, jamming the propeller and effectively destroying Dreykov’s jet. The force of the explosions sends her backwards, hurtling towards the ground with the remaining pieces of the red room.

“Put your pack on and jump.” Natasha tells you. Rushing for the nearest parachute. “I’m going to save my sister.” She dives head first over the edge, without putting on her harness.

“Not if I get there first,” you challenge. This would be a cool way to die.

Chapter Three: Bye Bye

#marvel fanfiction #yelena belova #black widow fanfiction #black widow #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova fanfiction #natasha romanoff #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n

331 notes · View notes