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gimmethatagustd · 1 year

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what the fire gave us (1) | jjk

You were born with a Gift that the world wanted to turn into a weapon. All Jungkook wanted to do was show you that you could find love, even in the dark.

🔥 pairing: shadow elemental!jungkook x water elemental!(f)reader

🔥 part of a spring offering collab

🔥 wc/date: 9.7k | june 2023

🔥 warnings: major character death (doesn't occur until part 2 but i'm being nice by warning you now; not jk or reader), minor character death, referenced past murder, smut (doesn't occur until part 2), unrequited love (not between reader & jk), reference to human experimentation (nothing is described in detail), persecution of supernatural people, mentions past war, blood, injuries/violence, they all definitely have ptsd, jungkook is a precious baby boy but he'll also kick your ass, JESSI !!!!!! JESSI STANS RISE UP !! JESSI IS THE COMEDIC RELIEF !!! (at least, i find her funny)

🔥 notes: PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD READ THE WARNINGS. there is heavy angst, particularly in part 2. i hope that you enjoy this story, even with its cuts and bruises. think of it as stranger things meets avatar the last airbender 😂

🔥 more notes: i was supposed to finish this fic in may lmfao but y'all should know by now that there's no point in trusting me to do what i'm supposed to do. i'm sorry but i will probably never change 😭 ANYWAY. this fic is gonna be over 20k, so i decided to upload it in two parts in an attempt to maintain my sanity cuz this website is trash about handling long posts. i'm almost done with part 2, so it should be uploaded within a week (i swear to GOD i mean it). also, if you follow me on AO3 you'll see that i'm posting this fic in multiple chapters. that's cuz i like the formatting of AO3 chapters better than tumblr. the formatting fits the story better, too.

🔥 main masterlist / part two

🔥 what was jai listening to? cyberpunk - ateez

moodboard credit: @btscontentenjoyer

3 MONTHS

Lookout duty is hard on you. When it’s your turn to camp out on the roof and watch for potential threats, you complain that staying awake all night is hard. Most of the other runaways are night owls, but you aren’t. You need your beauty sleep, you joke. You can’t get comfortable on the roof, even if there’s a flat landing with pillows and blankets to keep you warm.

These are a few of your excuses, but you can’t bring yourself to tell the others the truth: you are scared.

It’s close to midnight when you hear the creak of the trapdoor opening. The likelihood of it being anyone other than the group of Gifted runaways you live with is low, but you can’t trust that the impossible wouldn’t happen. You’ve seen the impossible happen far too often.

Hopping down from the old milk crate you’d been sitting on, you crouch behind a giant bean bag with your bow and arrow ready. The harness you wear strapped around your torso holds your spare arrows. It digs hard enough into your shoulder that you form blisters if you don’t wear a thick enough shirt.

The fluffy pink hair poking out of the trapdoor makes you sigh in relief.

“Hey, kid,” the pink-haired man whispers.

He gently closes the trapdoor and walks with a hunched back toward you, careful not to expose too much of his body beyond the roof’s railing. The abandoned warehouse you live in is on the city's outskirts, with nothing for miles but empty concrete parking lots and overgrown plots of land.

Still, you never know who might be out there. Although the Red Pins have only inflicted pain from within their research facilities, all the runaway Gifteds know that the government employs more than one type of evil to hunt them down.

You try not to think about them, those scientists in long white coats that fall to their thighs and blood-red nametags pinned to their labels with names you often see painted on the walls of your nightmares. Lately, the frequency of the nightmares has lessened. It doesn’t feel like it, though, when you often wake in the middle of the night to your friends screaming in their sleep while they suffer through their own trauma. You wish the knowledge that the pain of being government lab rats is something you all share could be comforting. But, instead, it only makes you hurt more.

“Yoongi,” you huff, returning to your perch on the milk crate. Now your hands are all sweaty. “You should be sleeping.”

“Hi, Yoongi; nice to see you too! Thanks for coming to hang out with me!” Yoongi mocks your voice, clearly stating what he thinks you should have said. “Oh, no problem, Y/N. I just wanted to see how you were doing and hang out with my favorite kiddo.”

You scrunch your nose at kiddo.

“I’m not a kid.”

Yoongi leans over to rub his knuckles into your head. “Nah, you definitely are.”

Despite the lack of lighting outside, Yoongi practically glows. That’s always how it is with fire elementals. It’s like they absorb all the light and let it buzz inside them. Like fireflies, you’d once told Yoongi. He hadn’t found it cute to be compared to a bug.

“If I’m a firefly, then you’re a fucking fish,” he’d teased. You’d promptly summoned water from a nearby puddle to throw in his face.

For as long as you can remember, that’s how it has been between the two of you: fire and water. A push and pull. So different that you need each other to be whole.

You watch Yoongi get comfortable in the bean bag, his skinny limbs spreading like a starfish and his eyes lifting to the sky. In quiet moments like this, you would give anything to hold him. And not out of fear like you had when the scary men came to take you away from your parents. And not out of anger like you had to when you stopped him from blowing up the research facility they’d held you in.

No, you want to hold him and for it to be gentle, soft, and peaceful.

Like now, when the world is silent except for the crickets calling to each other in the weeds and the rustle of wind in the trees.

But he thinks you’re just a kid.

You’re not that much younger than him. But, if you put in the effort to look at your relationship objectively, you’d see that Yoongi’s paternal nature comes out with you and the other runaway Gifteds. He cares for you as an older brother would.

It’s not enough for you, though. It will never be enough.

“Is everyone else asleep?” You rest your elbows on your knees and hold your chin in your hand. When you speak, you look out at the empty field.

“Hobi sneezed and blasted a hole through the bathroom wall,” Yoongi says with a low chuckle. “So me and Joon found some supplies to patch it up the best we could. I think they’re all asleep now, though.”

“How is it Hobi’s the one breaking shit and Namjoon’s fixing it?” You press your hand against your mouth to muffle the ugly snort bursting from you. There’s very little to find funny in this life, so you cherish how your chest burns with fond warmth.

“The world’s all backwards.” Yoongi’s gummy smile lights up the night and tears into your heart.

The two of you fall silent once again. Moving slowly, you reach out to hook your pinky finger with Yoongi’s, a small smile forming when you feel his pinky wrap tightly around yours.

“Where are we gonna go, Yoong?”

He watches you with eyes heavy with sleep, determined to stay up with you even though he doesn’t need to. Initially, you thought it was because he wanted to keep you company. Now, you often wonder if it’s because Yoongi is afraid to sleep, too. He never speaks about his experience at the Labs; the other runaways have learned the hard way not to ask. Singed eyebrows don’t look good on anyone.

“I don’t know.”

You already knew this would be the answer, but it scares you anyway. Yoongi always knows everything.

Yoongi lets go of your hand to sit up in the bean bag.

“Hey, kid,” he whispers. He gently presses his palm to your jaw, cupping your face. You hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch in your throat. “As long as we’re together, you don’t gotta worry about anything, okay?”

You stare at him for a long time, searching the bags under his eyes and the worry lines on his forehead.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

3 MONTHS, 1 WEEK

There’s a stream that cuts through the overgrown fields behind the warehouse. It’s man-made, flowing from a sewer tunnel beneath the cracked parking lot - and likely from somewhere else, perhaps connected to a lake beyond the woods at the property's edge. The separation between industrialization and the natural world of the unknown hurts your heart. You’d never felt longing until you found yourself inside a cage of cinderblock walls and concrete floors.

A rope of water whips across your face, drawing you from your thoughts of the woods. It’s muddy and makes your skin and clothes smell sour.

Though the air is still crisp and bites at the tip of your nose, spring came early this year. It takes minimal effort for Namjoon to draw more water from the soiled stream as it’s not frozen over like it should be. With a flick of his wrist, another rope of water hits you, this time across your chest.

“Aghh!”

“Pay attention.”

You lift your arm in enough time to block his next assault. The liquid rope freezes in the air before shattering into a thousand glimmering pieces, scattering jagged ice across the pale yellow grass.

“I’m tired of this, Grandpa.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes at the pop culture reference; you’re pleased he understood. Posed to speak, mouth already opening, he barely gets a sound out before another voice bellows across the field.

“WELL, THAT’S TOO DAMN BAD!”

Hoseok isn’t afraid to be loud. He smiles, all teeth and pink tongue, and throws his head back as he cackles. Everywhere he goes, he carries the smell of spring with him - cherry blossoms and morning dew that makes newly-grown pieces of grass stick wet against ankles.

You close your eyes and let spring overpower the sour smell of sewer water Namjoon has thrown at you for the past hour. It lets you forget how your skin aches with welts and bruises.

As Hoseok bounds toward you and Namjoon, a dark tornado spins beside him. When he gets closer, you can see Hoseok occasionally blowing a small gust of air toward the tornado. It appears to be made of smoke, a gradient of grays and blacks.

“Look at this,” your friend announces with a mischievous grin. “Me and JK learned a new trick.”

With a quick snap of Hoseok’s fingers, you and Namjoon watch in patient silence as the tornado begins to slow its speed. Almost gently, the smoke curls tighter and tighter until the darkness turns into a solid mass.

Jungkook stumbles a few times as he attempts to get his footing. His limbs continue to propel his body into a small spin.

Hoseok quickly reaches out to grab the younger man. Secure hands squeeze his shoulders, and then it’s only Jungkook’s head lolling about.

“Cool, right?” Jungkook’s voice is gruff, but his lips curl into a weak smile.

Namjoon lets out a long sigh. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Although Namjoon is right, Jungkook does look like the effort of his little party trick took a toll on his body; you can’t help but match his smile. Especially when his eyes flick toward yours. You told his gaze for half a second before Jungkook quickly looks away. His cheeks flush pink, but you’re sure it’s from the exertion of all that spinning.

“I think it’s really cool,” you praise the two while elbowing Namjoon in the ribs. With a grumble, your sparring partner returns to his previous stance a few feet away.

“We should go again. Just for a little while longer.”

Every muscle in your body feels stiff when you turn away from Hoseok and Jungkook.

“I hurt all over, Joonie.”

“Let her rest!” Hoseok adds to your whining. “All we ever do is practice fighting.”

“Sparring.”

Hoseok waves a dismissive hand at the younger man. “Whatever you want to call it. I find it to be fri-”

You stifle a laugh by pressing the back of your hand to your mouth as Hoseok is tackled to the ground by Jungkook. The two men roll around, all arms and legs, kicking up dead grass and dirt. A lot of howling and teasing laughter rings through the open air.

It isn’t until Jungkook is launched into the sky by a gust of wind you know comes from Hoseok, and lands roughly on his back, that the playful fight ceases. How Jungkook lands knocks all the air out of his chest, but he laughs once his lungs start working again.

“Ridiculous, all of you.” Hoseok brushes grass from his clothes. It’s futile; they’re dirty and ragged anyway. Try as you and Namjoon might to use your Gifts to clean the clothes; water does little when there’s no soap.

“I let you win,” Jungkook teases.

Still, he stands a bit further from Hoseok than he had previously. Not far enough for anyone to notice, aside from you. You notice although you don’t mean to. It’s hard not to when Jungkook keeps stealing glances, only to look away when you try to return his gaze.

“You did not.”

“Did, too.” His insistence makes you giggle.

“And how did that work out for you? Hmm? How does your back feel? I know you landed on that rock.”

“I-It, it doesn’t hurt.” Jungkook glances your way. His cheeks are still pink. “Would take more than that to hurt me.”

“Jungkook is impossible to beat.”

You startle at the gentle voice, spinning on your heels to see Yoongi approaching the group. He’s got a leather satchel strapped across his chest and resting at his hip. It bulges with what you assume are plants and fruits scavenged from the woods.

“Boy Scouts” is what Yoongi offered when you asked how he knew so much about surviving in nature. It was peculiar; nothing about Yoongi seemed like the type. He’s tougher, more steel than wood or earth. A bulletproof shield, you think. Broad and strong.

“Impossible?”

Your question is meant to be a tease, but Yoongi’s face remains stoic. Such a severe look only reveals itself when he assumes his position as your misfit group’s leader. It would be extremely attractive if it didn’t scare you.

“How can you fight shadows?” Yoongi deadpans. He stares into your eyes long enough to make your face feel hot, but you don’t look away.

“I…”

Yoongi hums at your lack of an answer. Suddenly, you feel unbelievably small.

“It’s not impossible,” Jungkook whispers. His head hangs low, long bangs hiding his face. The rest of his hair is tied into a bun at the nape of his neck. “I’m just as beatable as you, hyung.”

Something about Yoongi’s expression softens at the honorific. Formalities died long ago, along with many other traditions that once made Korea what it was. So many things died during the war - tangible and cultural - lives and ways of being. Now, the Republic is something you know your friends no longer recognize. Although it is not your home country, your heart aches for what it once was - something you will never have the privilege to experience because you arrived during the Restoration of the Republic - a fallacy of an era since the country was never restored to how it was.

That may be best. It is easier to mourn the loss of something you never knew.

In moments like this, you feel terribly inadequate - when you speak with broken Korean or struggle to understand the foreign politics behind why Gifteds are hunted, no matter how many times Namjoon patiently attempts to teach you. All you know is that, at least here, to be Gifted is not a death sentence, per se. Other countries’ governments have been far less lenient with their mutant population.

You’re simply seen as a science experiment to be tested on, poked and prodded, pushed until you’re driven mad, and then warped into whatever shape the government has the need for.

“You have no match,” Yoongi smiles softly at Jungkook with a shake of his head. “I do.”

Holding out his hand, a small flame appears in the center of Yoongi’s palm. It floats just above the skin, though he isn’t burned. You’ve seen Yoongi summon fire a million times from the heat of the air around him, and he never ceases to amaze you.

With a nod in Namjoon’s direction, Yoongi waits for a small rope of dirty water to splash against his hand. Namjoon is much kinder in his attack against Yoongi, only summoning enough water to extinguish the flame.

“Water will always win against me,” Yoongi admits. This time, he holds your gaze when he speaks. “It is my match.”

You feel something stir in your belly that migrates up your chest until it eventually threatens to suffocate you, nearly getting lodged in your throat.

“You would do well to continue sparring with Namjoon,” he says after a moment before turning to Hoseok and Jungkook, who have otherwise been silent.

It’s an order, even if Yoongi is gentle with his words.

With a sigh, you turn back to Namjoon. It’s difficult to stamp down the heat Yoongi always manages to trigger inside of you. You would compare him to fire even if it didn’t already run in his veins.

Drawing from the murky stream, you weave a ball of water between your palms.

“Let’s go again.”

While you spar with Namjoon, Yoongi leads Hoseok and Jungkook to the other end of the field.

You and Namjoon spar as though you are dancing. It’s a push and pull, your rhythms falling into harmony, even when one of you performs a surprise attack or a new move that hasn’t been practiced before. Perhaps it is because you both fight with water. There is a fluidity to it that the others don’t possess.

Occasionally, your eyes stray to where Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jungkook have begun to spar. The three men do not dance. Instead, they are a fury of elements intertwining in chaos. The wind snuffs fire, Yoongi and Hoseok blasting each other incessantly. Shadows allow Jungkook to disappear before being hit by an attack, only to reappear right behind his opponent to go in for the kill.

And it would be a kill if this was real. You know Jungkook keeps a rather terrifying knife strapped to his thigh. You all carry weapons, though you don’t really need them. Even Jungkook, with a Gift that’s misunderstood and exceptionally rare, is never found without his weapon.

Out of all the Gifteds you’ve met on your way to safety, you have never encountered another who can manipulate shadows. So, there is truth to Yoongi’s statement.

Jungkook is terrifying, even with the wide, starry eyes he always seems to stare at you with. He’s quiet and shy, typically sticking to Hoseok. You assume it’s likely because you found the two of them together. Both were kept in the same room at the research facility in Busan. As unassuming as Jungkook may be, you’ve seen him manipulate shadows to wrap around a Red Pin’s neck. Those shadows twisted and tightened until the man crumpled.

You didn’t need to have the Gift of blood manipulation to know when his heart stopped.

It was one of the scariest moments of your life, even beyond the suffering you’d endured having lived in the research facilities since you were a teen. Before then, you’d never seen someone die. Even when Yoongi and Namjoon helped you escape, they shielded you from the worst of it. It wasn’t until the three of you came upon the newest facility that such horrors were unleashed.

Jungkook hates himself for it. You know he does; you typically make your bed beside his, and he cries in his sleep. Self-defense protects the body in the moment, but harms the mind and heart long-term.

You probably would have done the same.

For as tragic as his story is - or what little you know of it - Jungkook has an undeniably beautiful soul. Those horrors have yet to turn him cruel or his heart black. Even when he spars, you can tell that he’s being gentle. He holds back and doesn’t reach his full potential out of fear of hurting others, you’re sure. You can see it in how he bounces on the balls of his feet to keep his movements light and how his back muscles ripple beneath his shirt as it clings to his skin. A bead of sweat runs along his neck, over the vein that bulges from his exerting effort.

Something prickles under your skin. When you look up, it’s into those wide eyes full of galaxies you’ll never understand, are somehow okay with not understanding if it means you can continue to gaze upon them.

A small smile pulls the corners of Jungkook’s mouth up. His expression is short-lived, though, quickly falling as a bright orange flame licks at his ankles.

“Don’t let my words get to your head, Jeon,” Yoongi teases. “Impossible to beat, but easy to hurt.”

This time, you catch Yoongi’s eye. You duck your head when he winks at you, just in time to block another blast of water from Namjoon.

“Why is everyone so off today?” Namjoon grumbles to himself. You haven’t managed to successfully hit him even once.

“I’m tired,” you whine again, dropping a ball of water to the ground. Dead grass quickly soaks it up once it splashes. “We should check on Jessi.”

Your group's sixth and final member is tucked away in the corner of the warehouse on the top floor. It’s dark up there, though Yoongi’s everlasting fire, paired with the windows Jessi managed to open, gives enough light for her to work.

She has black grease smudged on her left cheek and across her forehead. Her long, thick hair is tied back into a ponytail, though strands have fallen out to frame her face. When you step closer, you hear her muttering, but you can’t make out what she’s saying. It’s not for you. She speaks, facing the black box placed in front of where she kneels on the floor. The floor can’t feel good on her knees with its bits of broken concrete and dirt. Everything hurts in this life; it hardly matters as long as you’re here and not there.

“This piece of shit,” Jessi hisses, running her hands across her face. It smears more grease onto her skin, but she doesn’t care.

“Not working?”

“Beep beep boop beeping all over the fucking place, then static. White noise and shit. Like it’s telling me to fuck off even though I’m the one fixing it.”

You hum, crouching down to stare at the box. It’s an old radio meant to transport messages back and forth. Perhaps left behind by the military after it had occupied this land while it bulldozed the vigilantes seeking to save Gifteds from the fate you all ended up sharing anyway.

Jessi tweaks a few exposed wires. Every time they spark, you flinch. Mini white lightning, it’s deadly for anyone but Jessi. She grumbles and continues her work with deft fingers calloused from toiling away at the stupid thing for months.

“I’m normally so fucking good at this, I swear to God.”

Frustration colors her tone, even if her expression and cursing didn’t already give her feelings away.

You don’t doubt her, though, and you tell her as much. Still, you know firsthand that it sucks when your powers don’t work how you want them to. As a technopath, fixing the radio should be easy work for her.

“There must be something wrong with it… Maybe the Red Pins did something to it?”

You don’t know anything about technology. Even with the phone you’d stolen off one of the Red Pins, all you’d gotten to do was look at TikTok and try to find out where your parents were before Yoongi made you destroy the device. The government had ways to track you. Technology was as much your friend as a stranger on the street.

With a sigh, Jessi leans back until she’s sitting flat on the grimy floor.

“Maybe? Fuck if I know. I think I’m getting close, though. I’m getting some frequency when I concentrate really hard, but I wanna fix it so it’ll work even without me.”

Your friend whispers the end of her statement. It goes without saying; each one of you knows the fragility of life on the run.

“Thank you for working so hard.” Even in the dim lighting, you can see her watery eyes shine. It hurts your heart, but all you can offer is a light squeeze of her shoulder.

Jessi shrugs. “It’s as much for me as it is for you.”

You watch her stand and brush the dirt from her butt, her joints cracking from sitting down too long. When you first joined this mutant crew, you would have followed behind Jessi to comfort her. But, after months of running and fighting, you’ve learned that sometimes solitude is the best healing method.

4 MONTHS, 2 DAYS

“What makes you think you’re ready? That any of us are ready?”

Yoongi watches you with catlike eyes from where he sits at the kitchen table. The chairs circled around the battered wooden table are mismatched and in varying stages of deterioration from being abandoned for so long. The one Yoongi sits in is metal, and he leans on its two back legs, his right foot pressed to the floor to keep himself steady and his arms crossed against his chest.

Although Yoongi isn’t raising his voice - he never does - you still feel like you’re being scolded.

“I know we are,” you challenge him. Your voice is steady even as your fingers tremble. To stop them from shaking, you squeeze your hands into a fist, nails biting at the skin of your palms.

You should sit down, but holding your energy in is hard. Instead, you pace the kitchen while Yoongi’s cat eyes and Jessi’s wide ones follow you. You feel like a lion looping its cage, the desire to run restricted and confined.

“How?”

“We can’t stay here, Yoong! We can’t. I can’t.”

The front legs of Yoongi’s chair slam into the concrete floor. He allows the momentum to pull him forward, landing his elbows on the table’s surface.

Looking at Yoongi hurts. You can tell from his face that the next thing he says won’t be pleasant. His lips are pressed into a fine line that curves downward slightly. It’s cute how he can pull off a straight-lipped frown, but not when it’s directed at you.

It’s been at least an hour of back and forth between the three of you. Jessi tapped out a long time ago, resolved to watch the tennis match of an argument between you and Yoongi rather than exert energy on a fight she isn’t committed to. Yoongi and Jessi have the final say in all group decisions as the group's elders. It’s another reminder of how you think Yoongi sees you as someone to take care of rather than an equal.

“Have you ever killed someone before, Y/N?”

You pause your pacing to stand in front of the table. Yoongi is an exceptional cook, managing to create delicious meals out of what little you all have to work with from the forest. But now, at this moment, you feel like you’re going to be sick from the food churning in your stomach.

“No.”

“No,” Yoongi repeats. He speaks slowly, like he’s mulling your answer over, letting it twist around his tongue until he’s satisfied enough with its taste to swallow it down.

Leaning forward, Yoongi presses his palms against the table’s surface. He spreads his fingers and stares at them. The two of you seem to trace over the scars that line his skin, little nicks, and slices that healed light pink or blazing white. You’ve never seen Yoongi naked, but you have seen a good expanse of his body when you’ve used your Gift to help the others get clean. From what you’ve seen, you know Yoongi’s entire body is littered with battle scars.

“I have,” he admits what you already knew, and the gravelly sound of his voice makes you shudder. “Jungkook has.”

You wince at the mention of the younger man, but Yoongi doesn’t give you a chance to speak.

“Do you want to ask him what it’s like to squeeze the life out of another man? He may have done it with shadows, but I guarantee he still felt it in his hands.”

Yoongi lifts his eyes to yours when the first tear rolls down your cheek. Concern wrinkles his forehead.

“Yoongi,” you start, but the pink-haired man shakes his head.

“I don’t mean to upset you, kiddo.” The pet name twists your gut tighter with frustration - even though Yoongi’s voice is filled with gentle adoration when he calls out to you. “But I’ll be damned if I let us walk into that forest without knowing where we’re going or whose claws we’re running into. The Gifted Commune is, at best, a rumor. At worst - a trap.”

You want to tell him that falling for a rumor or getting caught by the government is better than sitting in a concrete cage. The prospect of finding a community of other Gifted runaways who have managed to create a society safe from the evils you’ve grown up with means more to you than the fear of the unknown.

There’s no use, though. Jessi is nodding along to Yoongi’s words; the blank expression she wears when she’s upset already masks her face.

“I will not put you in a situation where you must kill or be killed, Y/N. I won’t fucking do it.” Yoongi clears his throat suddenly, and he looks away from you. You’re unsure, but think he might be blinking back unshed tears.

You’re still pissed, but now your anger is mixed quite prettily with debilitating guilt. You’ve never seen Yoongi cry, and you realize with a sinking feeling that you really don’t want to.

“It’s too fucking risky,” Jessi finally speaks. She presses her fingers against her forehead, massaging it slowly as she, too, looks for words. “The radio is almost fixed; I can feel that it’s close. Then we will have a clearer line of communication with the Commune. It doesn’t guarantee anything, obviously, but it’s better than going in without fucking knowing anything.”

There’s nothing else to say. Yoongi doesn’t look at you or Jessi, instead staring at something in the opposite corner of the room.

Jessi gives you what you think is a smile laced with pity - or at least an apology.

How can everyone be so content to stay in the warehouse? You’re a bunch of sitting ducks, hiding out in the same location for months, practically waiting for the government to send their agents to either corral you into laboratories again or exterminate you. You don’t understand how becoming a moving target is a bad thing.

But, ultimately, you don’t understand why Yoongi can’t just trust you.

With a frustrated huff, you twist around to hurry out of the kitchen. As you cross the threshold, Namjoon appears in the doorway.

“Oh, I need to ask you-”

You don’t mean to shove Namjoon with your shoulder as hard as you do, but you don’t have the patience to comply with whatever he expects you to do for him. Probably more sparring and training.

On the one hand, sharing your identity as a water elemental with someone else in the group is an affirming experience. On the other, it’s infuriating because Namjoon sees your potential and pushes you toward it - even when you fight against him.

Namjoon sputters something, and you hear Jessi convince him to drop it. Whatever else they have to say is lost on you; you’re no longer interested in entertaining the conversations of the “leaders” of the group. Part of you wants to find Hoseok or Jungkook to force them to commiserate with you, but something about dumping your sludge of emotions onto them feels wrong.

So you do what you’ve always done best: you repress.

It isn’t until a few hours later when you’re lounging on your makeshift bed with the only tattered book you kept from your facility (Fahrenheit 451, how fitting), that you give yourself over to the gnawing need to interact with other humans.

Jungkook bounces on the balls of his feet, items that you can’t make out pressed against his chest.

“Will you cut my hair for me, noona?”

The out-of-use honorific flusters you, making your face burn under Jungkook’s attentive gaze.

“You don’t have to be so formal with me,” you insist, embarrassment ravaging your twisted stomach and fluttering chest. Something about the attention Jungkook gives you makes you feel nervous and giddy.

“It’s not very formal, really. It’s… respectful? I just… You are, it means,” Jungkook lets out a huff. He blows his bangs out of his face as his cheeks turn pink. “You are special to me.”

You duck your head, shocked by Jungkook’s honesty. It warms you in a way you’re not sure you understand, letting the feeling sit inside your chest rather than exploring it any further.

“Where I come from, we don’t have words like that.”

Jungkook gives you a shrug. Neither of you mentions that in Korea, those words don’t really exist anymore, either.

“But, okay,” you relent softly.

Jungkook stands beside the mess of blankets that make up your bed, holding a pair of scissors and electric clippers Jessi enhanced to operate on their own. Jungkook nicked them from a Red Pin on their way out of the research facility he’d grown up in. Hairstyling tools didn’t seem high on your list of items to steal, but they’d come in handy. Like now, with Jungkook’s bangs falling entirely into his eyes and his hair sweeping across his shoulders.

The pout Jungkook wears lessens slightly. He holds out the tools with an expectant look on his face. It’s cute how his bottom lip juts out, pink and chapped from nervously chewing on it. You’d overheard Namjoon scolding him for something earlier that morning before you went outside to patrol the grounds with Hoseok and Jessi.

Taking the items from Jungkook, you lead him out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. The lights sputter briefly before they fully brighten the small room. Jessi was excited to learn that her Gift extended to electricity as a whole, not just that within technology like computers and radios. With all your Gifts combined, the warehouse is liveable, almost comfortable.

Jungkook sits on the closed lid of the toilet, making you tower over him. He parts his legs slightly so you can stand between them as you run your fingers through his hair.

You spread your fingers and sweep his bangs up, exposing his forehead. It opens up his face more and makes him look older. Jungkook is handsome; there’s no denying that. You’re sure in another life, he could have been a regular college kid with a sweet girlfriend and a bright future.

“What would you like me to do?”

“Hmm?” Jungkook hums with his eyes closed, and his head tilted back slightly.

You don’t miss how he leans into your touch, completely pliable in your hands, as you massage his scalp and continue to play with his hair. It’s thick and soft, even without the proper haircare products to maintain the health of the follicles.

“How do you want me to cut it, silly?”

You reach for the hairbrush you keep tucked away in the bathroom cabinet. It takes a few more moments of silence while you brush out Jungkook’s waves before he finally speaks.

“Short. Cut it all off, please? It’s too hard to take care of now, and it gets in my face.”

“Don’t get mad at me if it comes out bad.”

Jungkook lets out a frustrated sound. “You always do a great job. You gave Yoongi hyung an undercut. It looks so good!”

At the mention of Yoongi, you feel your heart drop. Somehow you know Jungkook is here to make you feel better even if he hasn’t said anything about the argument, and he’s the one seeking your help, not the other way around. He’s a distraction - one you wonder if Yoongi sent himself.

It isn’t that Yoongi won’t apologize; you just never give him a chance to before you run off to lick your wounds on your own.

It’s the healing quality of solitude, you think as you prepare to cut Jungkook’s hair. However, this time, you’re not alone.

You can’t help but smile when Jungkook starts singing a song of his own creation as chunks of his hair fall to the floor. His song drowns out the static that buzzes in your brain like the fuzziness Jessi’s broken radio emits when anyone but her fiddles with it.

“This way,” you speak softly, not wanting to disrupt his singing as you press your fingertips against his jaw and under his chin to lift his face toward you. Your finger presses against the little mole just below Jungkook’s bottom lip. The angle gives you a better view of your work so far.

A small smile flickers on Jungkook’s face as though he’s trying to keep it down, but the corners of his mouth won’t listen to him.

“It feels nice. We don’t touch.”

You hum and nod your head, but Jungkook’s eyes are still closed. It’s true; kind touches are rare. Hoseok is really the only one who gives out hugs. Everything is tough all the time. There’s little room for gentleness, even amongst friends.

So you understand when Jungkook’s smile wins out, and he finally surrenders to the happiness your light touches along his jaw bring him.

4 MONTHS, 5 DAYS

It takes Yoongi three days to apologize.

Perhaps you should have apologized first, but you struggle to see how you could have done anything that warrants an apology. Yes, you feel bad for upsetting Yoongi, but his attitude toward you lately has rubbed you the wrong way.

During the three days it takes him to apologize to you, he seems to do his best to avoid you.

On the days you’re assigned to go on patrol with Yoongi, Jungkook accompanies you instead. You don’t mind having Jungkook by your side, you discover, even though you’re upset that Yoongi is behaving so childishly.

Neither Jungkook nor Yoongi talks much, but you learn that their silence feels different. Whereas Yoongi’s silence stems from feeling confident and content with not needing to fill the air with incessant babbling, Jungkook’s silence is awkward and heavy. He fiddles with the loose strings of his shirt, his reddened cuticles, and everything else. You don’t mind the awkwardness, though. It’s nice to comb through the woods with someone as powerful as Jungkook; you know there’s nothing to fear with him around.

The only weapon Jungkook carries is the knife strapped to his thigh. You, on the other hand, stay heavily armed. Your fingers tighten around your bow. When you twist your torso, the harness that holds your arrows digs into your shoulder. You also have a knife, though you are honestly afraid of close combat. A gun would be even better, but ammo is difficult to come by. It’s easier to collect your arrows after you’ve shot them, although you haven’t needed to yet. Since finding refuge at the warehouse, no one has discovered your group.

Apparently, all your friends are willing to keep testing fate. You aren’t interested in pushing your luck. Jungkook doesn’t comment on the group’s plans for moving forward - or lack thereof. Something tells you that he’ll do whatever Yoongi and Jessi tell him to do.

Still, going on patrol with Jungkook does a decent job of preventing your thoughts from straying toward your argument with Yoongi. Your hands brushed together a few times as you walked side by side, and you could practically feel Jungkook’s brain shortcircuit from the contact.

Part of you thinks he has a crush on you, but the more logical part of you knows he’s probably shy. The kid has gone through a lot in life. Not everything is always about you; you try to remind yourself. Yoongi doesn’t even want you. Why would Jungkook?

On the third day, bright doe eyes don’t greet you at the edge of the woods, just as the sun is kissing the sky for the first time. Instead, sharp cat eyes hold your gaze when you lightly jog over.

“Good morning, kiddo.”

Yoongi wears dark shorts with tattered edges cut from a pair of old jeans and a plain t-shirt the color of the forest in spring. It’s not warm enough to wear what he’s wearing, but fire elementals run hot like you run cold.

“Hi,” you say, voice a bit stunted as you hold your jacket tighter to your body.

You’ve foregone your bow and arrows today; you may or may not have snapped your bow in a fit of frustration that may or may not have anything to do with Yoongi ignoring you at dinner the night before. A knife and your Gift will have to do, but you feel it is enough. Namjoon insists on learning how to use your Gifts and weapons in tandem. For double the defense, or so he says.

Carrying a knife seems ridiculous when you know how to choke someone with their own spit without touching them.

Once you’re within arm’s reach, Yoongi offers his hand to you. He holds it as though he’s going in for a handshake. Yellow-orange fire licks at his palm and swirls in tendrils around his fingers and wrist.

After a few seconds of silence, he makes a slight grunting sound and wiggles his fingers, beckoning you.

It’s impossible not to cave. A prickly feeling tingles down your arm, beginning somewhere in your chest and eventually settling in your fingertips. A tiny hurricane of water stolen from the moisture in the air circles around your hand just as the fire does Yoongi’s.

He lets out a pleased sound when your palms glide across each other. You hook your thumbs together, using the momentum to spin your hands around until your fingers are interlaced and pressed into your palms. You both squeeze your hands once, twice, three times in a heartbeat before pulling away. By the end, the fire and water have disappeared.

When you meet Yoongi’s eyes, the warmth of the fire in his palm has transferred to his gaze. There is an apology in how you release each other’s hands. The handshake holds secret words of friendship and reassurance between you.

The two of you stand in silence for a bit until Yoongi tilts his head in the direction of the woods. You nod in response and follow Yoongi along one of the many patrol paths your group has established.

There’s never anything in the woods besides small animals like squirrels and rabbits, but everyone feels better knowing there is a consistent patrol of the area, just in case.

“So,” When you look at Yoongi, his lips twist into a light smirk you absolutely do not like. “You and Jungkook.”

“Me and Jungkook what?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Just seems like you two been hanging out a lot.”

“Yeah, because you were fucking ignoring me all week.”

His smirk drops into a stern frown, but Yoongi continues following the path. He walks slightly ahead of you with his hands clasped behind his back. It feels like he’s taking a leisurely stroll through a garden rather than going on patrol in the woods for government assassins.

“It was immature and irresponsible of me, and I’m sorry for that.”

Forgiving Yoongi is too easy. It’s the way the morning sun shines through the canopy of trees above you, casting streaks of light against his fading pink hair. The way he carries himself with confidence is gentle and comforting rather than arrogant or misplaced. It’s how he looks at you; you know he would do anything for you.

“It’s okay,” you finally concede. You scramble a bit to fall in line with Yoongi again. “I was being dramatic.”

“Life is one big drama, isn’t it?” Yoongi muses with a chuckle. It’s a question he doesn’t expect an answer to, which is good, considering you’ve got something else buzzing around in your head.

Well, fuck it. You’re just gonna say it.

Heart pounding, you eventually find it in you to say, “I still think you’re wrong.”

After a moment, Yoongi hums in acknowledgment of your admission but doesn’t offer anything else. It’s better than nothing, so you tell yourself to be content with all that he offers.

“Anyway…” You don’t want to drop the subject, but Yoongi’s question is nagging in the back of your brain now - a nagging question you now have a gnawing desire to know the meaning behind. “Me and Jungkook can hang out without it meaning-”

Before you can finish your statement, Yoongi slaps his hand against your mouth. The calluses on his palms are rough against your chapped lips, and his skin is sweaty. His free arm comes around to the front of your chest near your collarbones. He draws you against his chest so tightly you can’t move.

“Don’t talk.” His breath is hot against your face, and his voice is almost indiscernible.

You give a tiny nod before locking your body completely still. You hold your breath, straining to hear what Yoongi might hear or see what he might see. There’s nothing, just the usual sound of life in the woods - birds chirping, small animals scurrying in the brush. You don’t see anything either.

You can only focus on the frantic pounding of your heart and the calm beat of Yoongi’s against your back. How he can be so relaxed when he thinks there might be danger in the woods that you can’t even see is unreal.

Slowly, Yoongi takes a step back away from you. He holds a finger to his lips and silently mouths for you to stay where you are. Everything inside you screams to disobey as you watch Yoongi disappear further into the woods, the thick trees swallowing him whole.

But you don’t. You stay put, fear rooting you to the ground even though your body desperately wants to follow.

What lies beyond the thicket of trees? What is dangerous enough that Yoongi wants you to stay put but not so dangerous that he believes he can take it on alone?

Just when your resolve is about to crumble, something catches your attention out of the corner of your eye. Barely breathing, you turn your head to watch a dark spot glide across the forest floor. It’s two-dimensional, not an object but a presence creeping along the ground.

Suddenly, the spot grows. It spreads, turning its shape from a flat, uneven circle to a thing with tendrils sticking out of it, each new tendril moving independently. You gasp when one of the tendrils creeps up your leg. Despite being two-dimensional, you can feel the darkness. It’s firm and cold, like a snake slithering up your body.

Every inch of you trembles as the strange darkness slowly spreads across your body. You squeeze your eyes and hold your breath. Perhaps this is the thing that Yoongi saw, a phantom stalking the trees. But now you’re left behind to be absorbed into its darkness, eaten alive.

You’re startled when the cold disappears; instead, strong arms pull you against a firm chest. Warmth envelopes you, and when you open your eyes, you see familiar ones looking back at you.

“I got you,” Jungkook murmurs. He has you tucked under his chin, and he tilts his head down when he speaks to you. You shiver as his lips lightly brush against your forehead.

“Where did you-”

“Shhh.”

Jungkook’s heart isn’t steady like Yoongi’s had been. On the contrary, it’s beating rather furiously. You can hear him attempting to regulate his emotions, taking in mindful breaths and exhaling in a way that tickles your skin.

You don’t know how long you stand there pulled against Jungkook’s chest. After a while, your breathing matches his until you fall into a gentle rhythm that makes you sleepy. The adrenaline is making you crash, your body hardly strong enough to hold yourself up after panicking so severely - still panicking. Luckily, when you lean into Jungkook, his hold on you tightens.

In another situation, pressing your fronts together would have flooded your body with heat. You can feel all of Jungkook like this, from the bulging muscles of his chest to his thigh pressed slightly between your legs from how he holds you up. But fear of the unknown and Jungkook’s clearly distressed state prevent those other thoughts from materializing.

Jungkook’s body doesn’t relax until Yoongi appears around the corner of a large tree. He keeps his arms wrapped around you, and for a second, Yoongi looks around at the clearing you're in as though he can’t see you.

It isn’t until Jungkook lets go of you that recognition flashes in Yoongi’s eyes.

“There you are,” Yoongi murmurs to the two of you. He looks like he rolled around on the ground, little pieces of leaves and sticks caught in his hair and stuck to his clothes. His left knee is bleeding from a few superficial scrapes.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

Yoongi looks at Jungkook before he answers your question, which irritates you. “I tripped when I rushed in, but it was nothing. Just a large fox I heard making noise back there.”

A fox is likely the largest animal in the woods, with no bears or wolves in the area. Still, you don’t trust Yoongi. You can pick up on the charred smell coming off of him. He smells like a barbecue, which means only one thing…

“Have you been practicing turning yourself invisible?”

Jungkook ducks his head down but no longer has long bangs to hide his face. It takes a second for your brain to process Yoongi’s question - and the change in the topic - but Jungkook is already answering him by the time you figure it out.

“It’s not really invisibility,” he says softly. “It’s more like… an illusion.”

Yoongi hums and motions for the two of you to start walking. You’re returning to the warehouse, you realize, even though you only just started the patrol route.

“Yeah, I can… adjust the lighting, I guess? To make it seem like you can’t see me. Or, us, this time.”

Jungkook gives you a small smile when you whip around to look at him.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook repeats. He draws his bottom lip between his teeth and wiggles it like he has more to say but doesn’t want to let it out just yet.

The three of you walk in silence until you reach the warehouse. When Yoongi walks ahead of you, you can tell he’s limping, even as he does his best to walk normally.

“He’s okay.”

Jungkook stands beside you in the field behind the warehouse, watching Yoongi reach the backdoor.

“He’s bleeding.”

Jungkook’s ears are pink when he responds, “He’ll be okay.”

“He’s lying to us.”

Jungkook absentmindedly runs his fingers along his bottom lip. It droops as he speaks through a pout. “Maybe. But I trust him, even if he is.”

It’s a strange thing to trust someone who is lying.

All you can do is nod. All you can do is accept that the people around you are doing what’s right because, aside from them, there is no one and nothing you can trust in the world.

As you approach the warehouse, Jungkook curls his fingers around your wrist to stop you. He watches you with the same wide-eyed look he gives everyone, though something about this time feels different. His expression is more open and vulnerable. He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to hurt him.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he apologizes softly.

“But you didn’t?”

Your eyebrows crease your forehead, trying to recall what you may have done to make Jungkook feel like you feared him. Sure, his sudden appearance in the woods was startling, but he’d brought you a feeling of comfort and safety - not fear.

Jungkook doesn’t correct you. Instead, he lets go of your wrist as shame warms his cheeks, but he doesn’t look away from you. The timidness is still there. You can see it in how he chews on his bottom lip. Still, his eyes take on a more guarded, hardened expression for a split second, and then…

He’s gone.

“What the fuck?” You mutter to yourself.

Now that you’ve seen the darkness before, your eyes quickly notice the spot on the ground that creeps and grows into odd shapes, slinking along the grass before taking form up your legs, curling around your arms.

It’s Jungkook. You knew it in the woods, somewhere deep down. Your fear for Yoongi’s safety - and your own - prevented you from processing the situation. But now, as the darkness envelopes you again, you know what to expect when you close your eyes and open them to see Jungkook’s broad chest as he crushes you against him.

“You never showed me before.”

Maybe it’s weird that you’re still clinging to each other, but Jungkook is warm and solid, and his heartbeat guides yours into a slower rhythm.

“That’s because it’s creepy.”

“Well, I think it’s cool. Even though, yeah, you kinda scared the shit outta me.”

Jungkook lets out an embarrassed whine and squeezes you tighter. You knew he could command shadows but hadn’t realized he could become one or move within them. Sure, the tornado trick he’d done a few times with Hoseok had been cool, but you’d always thought he was merely swirling the darkness around himself. You hadn’t realized he was the darkness.

Honestly, it made him all the more terrifying and equally as endearing.

“I just had this… feeling something bad was happening…” Jungkook whispers into your hair. “I needed to check.”

“Good thing it was only a fox.”

Jungkook nods in agreement; you know he believes it more than you do.

“I’m just happy you’re safe.” You can feel his cheek press against the top of your head for a moment before he finally releases you.

There’s a feeling there as Jungkook leads you to the warehouse. He laces his fingers with yours, and you can’t help but hear Yoongi’s question on a loop in your head.

You and Jungkook?

4 MONTHS, 3 WEEKS

“What if they think we’re the feds and feed us false information?”

“We’re too stupid to be the feds. It would be obvious.”

“I don’t know… we all escaped the government, so they must be pretty stupid.”

“What if they’re the feds?”

“Shit, I never thought about that.”

“They’re not the fucking feds.”

“How do you know that?!”

“Can all of you please just shut the fuck up?”

The six of you crowd around the radio on the kitchen table. Jessi shows you how to operate it, which flip to switch to activate the microphone, and how to adjust the volume. You’re all muted for now. When Hoseok goes to flip the switch, Jessi smacks his hand out of the way.

“Listen to me,” she says sternly, turning in her seat to get a good look at all of you. “No one talks.”

“But-”

“No one talks.”

Five heads nod at her command, including Yoongi, which feels very satisfying to you for some reason.

Details of the Gifted Commune somewhere beyond the woods traveled by word of mouth. Coordinates and radio frequencies were exchanged in hushed tones between the Gifteds who dared dream of a life beyond the Labs. You’re sad to admit that you were never one of those Gifteds. It wasn’t until Yoongi helped you escape that you even realized escaping was an option, so brainwashed into thinking the Labs were all you had. You were in a new country, stumbling through an unfamiliar language, taken from your family. Sure, you’d learned enough to get by over time - but missing your adolescent years made you feel hopeless.

Jessi is the only one who had communicated with the Commune leaders in the past when she and another Gifted managed to break into a control room in the Labs she came from.

That’s why she’s the one to speak into the radio that you find operates much like a long-distance walkie-talkie. You’re glad it’s not you. She introduces herself, her whereabouts, and her credentials with an even voice you know you could never replicate.

Despite the distrust you’re all afraid of, Jessi’s previous connection to the Commune makes it easy for her to request to speak to the Commune leader, a healer named Kim Taehyung.

Sitting with your fingers gripping the edge of the table so tightly your knuckles are beginning to ache, you lean forward as though you can get closer to the gentle voice that floats from the radio’s speakers.

Taehyung doesn’t sound anything like you’d imagined, though you aren’t sure what you were expecting, to be honest. Maybe someone with a rougher voice made harsh by the trials of life as a fugitive of the Republic. Instead, he’s soft as he asks Jessi how many there are of you and what your coordinates are. This man, already larger than life even though none of you knows what he looks like, is patient as he gives Jessi instructions on how to reach the Commune.

“I can assure you,” Taehyung speaks, and you don’t know what he’s about to say, but you find yourself already believing him, “You will be safe here. It won’t be a short trip.” That makes your gut twist, but you focus on his following words. “But there are abandoned shelters along the route to find refuge in. The nights get terribly cold.”

Namjoon scribbles some notes down on a worn piece of paper. It’s been written on and erased to add more notes over the months you’ve been at the warehouse since there are only a few pieces of paper between the six of you. There’s a small hole in the middle of the page where someone erased too hard - or too many times, you suppose.

“Thank you, Taehyung-ssi.”

The line is quiet for a moment. Jessi’s gaze shoots up to glare at Jungkook’s interruption, but Taehyung speaks before she can chastise the younger man.

“Anything for my dongsaeng,” the man on the other side of the radio states.

You don’t know him, so there is no way to tell if the subtle lilt to his voice indicates affection, but it seems like it as the two men use polite terms no one ever uses anymore. It’s old-fashioned and reminiscent of a time lost to all of you.

Jessi steers the conversation back to planning the group’s journey to the Commune. Excitement makes you jittery as you skip out of the kitchen, the men - aside from Yoongi - following after you. The boring stuff is what follows, and you’re all content to let the leaders discuss that stuff.

“Do you think we’ll be able to do it?” Hoseok clasps his hands together, occasionally squeezing them. When he speaks, he keeps his eyes on the closed kitchen door.

Namjoon shrugs at the same time you respond, “We have to.”

PART ONE - PART TWO

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

#jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #a spring offering collab #wtfgu

624 notes · View notes

robobarbie · 5 months

Note

ROMANCE/ANGST. being the light of nightowl’s life, the most important person to this man, but being just as insecure as him, so when he starts interacting with a pretty person in the server you’re left there wondering if you’re really worthy of him. (i’m projecting again, i’m the anon who sent the nightowl deep dive 5 times, i really hope it doesn’t happen again😭)

side note (this is the most e-dating, discord, online relationship-ass prompt ever)

# general

--- mystic_pizza has joined the server ---

Quest Oh?

nightowl whoa! a new member???

lovelylola hello!!

two2 nice 2 meet u!!

mystic_pizza hehe, hi everyone <3

BIGLADY how'd you find the server? O_O

June Yeah, didn't @BloomBot disable invites?

BloomBot It was getting stale around here.

xyx LMAO

NakedToaster LMAO

salociN Hello ! Mystic Pizza !

onionthief "Stale". That's an opinion for sure.

nightowl ??

onionthief Would just like to know how BloomBot has decided our presence is "stale".

onionthief We've done nothing different, kept chatting at the same rate (I've checked), and always focused on the webnovel to a degree.

onionthief I don't understand how that's "stale".

NakedToaster bro just answered the question by speaking

xyx bro doesn't see what we see

onionthief What?

BIGLADY @mystic_pizza who's your favorite character?

mystic_pizza Damien. So easy.

nightowl oooooooo, mine too!!

nightowl why do u like him?

mystic_pizza i just think he's misunderstood... breakups aren't super straightforward a lot of the time, you know

nightowl I AGREEEEEEEEEE

mystic_pizza like, it's not even up for debate!!! people are just being rude to damien for no reason!!!

nightowl my god

nightowl where have you been...

June hahaha

mystic_pizza are selfies ok btw?

BIGLADY yeah!!

two2 hey bloombot wh y did u always allow selfies?

two2 isn't that like a personal ident thing or someth

--- BloomBot is now offline ---

two2 what..

xyx @mystic_pizza post face so we can read your aura

xyx i got them aura glasses on

NakedToaster that's just not a real thing

xyx wow

xyx post a selfie of yours then and let me read you

NakedToaster fine

NakedToaster

(pic from xiaeom)

NakedToaster read me bitch

xyx holy shit

xyx holy fucking shit

BIGLADY what do you see?? O-O

salociN A very handsome man !

June Salo!! Remember, toasty is NB!!

salociN Oh , my sincerest apologies . I'm still learning.

salociN A very handsome person .

NakedToaster fuck yeah salo, you are so right

xyx no no no. no. all of you, shut the fuck up.

xyx i see

xyx i see a person with

xyx with

xyx with no balls

NakedToaster motherfucker

BIGLADY that's not an aura reading...

xyx absolutely no balls in sight

BIGLADY @mystic_pizza!!!! WHERE'S THE SELFIE!!!!!

NakedToaster yeah xyx's time on earth is a little limited

xyx you'll never find me

mystic_pizza hehe, okay! <3

mystic_pizza

mystic_pizza that's me on th e right

nightowl omg i love ur smile!! so cute!!

BIGLADY agreed!!! U R RADIANT!!! <3

mystic_pizza awww, thank u!!! u are all so nice around here!!!

nightowl we just wanna make sure everyone has a good time u know?

nightowl and damien enjoyers must be protected!!!

mystic_pizza i agree!!

mystic_pizza ah, fixed my flair

nightowl OMG

nightowl U AND ME!!!

mystic_pizza U AND ME!!!! XD

nightowl do u wanna call rq?

two2 can i join?

nightowl YA!

mystic_pizza yea sure hehe

nightowl @lovelylola you wanna call too cutie?

June The "cutie" in chat again..

onionthief Please keep that to DMs.

nightowl blah blah blah

lovelylola i'm kinda tired, i think i'm gonna sleep

nightowl awww okay

nightowl i'll call u later!!

BIGLADY gnight lola!!!

Quest Rest well!

salociN Have sweet dreams !

lovelylola good night!

xyx holy fuck

xyx @mystic_pizza

mystic_pizza yes?

xyx your aura

xyx your aura is just

xyx it's like the color of a

xyx of a war crime

mystic_pizza huh?

NakedToaster i have ur new IP bitch

xyx FUCK

---------

you close the laptop and sigh. it's okay for nightowl to have fun and meet other people, it's just...

gah. mystic pizza's selfie wouldn't leave your head. they're so cute... and seem to pair up pretty well with nightowl. you're sure the call is just going too well... at least you're assured it won't go too far since two2 is there.

but that's barely a reassurance. nightowl doesn't hesitate to flirt when he wants to, regardless of who's around.

you thrum your fingers on the desk and gnaw on your bottom lip. should you actually join the call? no, then you'd look insecure. do you already look insecure? is everyone wondering if nightowl likes mystic pizza more than you?

you look down at your frumpy clothes with a tired expression. ugh. maybe it's okay for him to flirt, if he wants to. this is what he's stuck with after all. who wouldn't want to flirt with someone who looks like that?

you try to ignore the pang in your chest as you stand up and get ready for bed.

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

LOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

#i blacked out then this was on my screen #bp ask #anon ask #nightowl #bp angst hour #does this count as angst hour #LMFAO

233 notes · View notes

upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

Note

thinking about camp!steve fighting with hawkins over something petty and they're both horny and pent up bc they haven't had any time alone

"you're gonna regret that, princess"

"oh no, i'm shaking in my boots"

"yeah, you will be shaking by the time I'm done with you"

😳🥵

It wasn’t like either of you had wanted to go in the first place, but Steve’s parents had cornered you both on one of the rare occasions they’d been home.

Mrs Harrington had gasped and air kissed you on both cheeks as you stumbled down their stairs that morning, wide eyed and only dressed in her son's T-shirt.

“I’m so sorry,” you croaked out, mortified. “Steve and I didn’t hear you guys get in last night.”

And so you had to stand, barefoot and clutching at the hem of Steve’s shirt as his mother cooed over their tip to Paris, how the meeting had gone so well, how their flight got in earlier than planned and did you know that the Duncan’s down the road were getting a divorce?

You had just wanted a coffee.

But Steve had eventually stirred enough to hear his mom, launching himself out of bed in a bid to save you. It all went downhill from there, ‘cause his dad appeared, back from his morning run to jab a little meanly at his son's (flat) stomach, telling him he needed to work out more now he wasn’t on the basketball team.

You held Steve’s hand under the table. And then came the real kicker.

“Oh! Before I forget,” Mrs Harrington cried out over her cappuccino. “It’s the family party this weekend. You’ll both be attending, right? Cousin Michael is bringing his fiancé, Steven, so won’t it be nice that you'll be taking a girlfriend this time?”

You stared. “Family party?”

“A whole house full of Harrington’s!” Steve’s dad declared, whisking two eggs into his smoothie. You tried not to grimace. “We rent the old Manor House out by Bloomington for the weekend. You know it, it’s near that silly, little camp you guys waste your time at.”

Your jaw clenched at the same time Steve’s did.

—————

Two days in and you were at your wits end. The rest of Steve’s family was just like his parents. Obnoxious, brash and arrogant, all with a habit of talking about money and business, even over a seven o’clock breakfast. His younger cousins didn’t know how to knock on doors, Aunt Deniese’s toddler liked to throw things at Steve’s hair, his uncle was constantly winking at you and his grandmother kept grabbing you by the arm and asking when you’d be giving her a grandchild.

‘Never, at this rate,’ you’d wanted to yell at her. ‘Seeing as nobody gives us a fucking second alone.’

Steve was almost unbearable. Almost. He’d turned surly and quiet, barely speaking the morning of the trip ‘cause he’d already had an argument about taking his car rather than sitting in the back of his dads. He’d apologised to you over and over the night before, warning you about his family, how they were, how they acted. He’d even told you you could still back out, but you’d kissed away his apologies and told him you weren’t leaving him to the wolves alone.

But the boy turned into a shell of himself at the hands of his relatives. He was prickly and constantly frowning, brow furrowed and he flinched when you tried to soothe it away. You’d have been offended if you hadn’t felt as on edge as you knew he did, constantly awaiting the next backhanded compliment from one of his aunts, a sympathetic expression written on his cousin's faces when you told them your shoes were from Target.

You saw the way Steve looked at you though. Heated in a different way, the best way. Like he was aching to touch you and have you and kiss you without an audience, ‘cause everytime you reached for him, it gave someone in his family an excuse to berate you both.

‘God, Steve. She’s clingy isn’t she?’

‘Can't you two be apart for more than half an hour?’

‘You know, if you want this relationship to survive, you gotta realise that money keeps it together. Where are you working, Steve?’

‘You know he’ll cheat on you right? He’ll be just like his dad.’

It only stopped when dinner was over and the table was cleared by the hired staff, Steve’s dads incoming speech about the family business interrupted by his son grabbing your hand and dragging you upstairs to your room.

The bedroom door closed and Steve could breathe again. Just.

You stared at him, chest heaving with half jogging through the too big house, with holding in the anger you wanted to let out over the mahogany tabletop. You were pent up, pulled tight. So was Steve.

Maybe you could fix it. If he’d let you.

“Fuck this weekend,” he was seething, kicking at his suitcase that had remained unpacked on the floor. “Honest to god, this fucking family. Shouldn’t have bothered even coming, knew this shit would happen, always fucking does.”

You kicked off your shoes, enjoying the way they clattered angrily against the hardwood. The noise caught your boyfriend’s attention and he turned, wide eyed. You didn’t say anything as you unzipped your dress, angrily shoving down the straps until it pooled at your feet.

You let out another harsh breath, “yeah?” You agreed with Steve, with everything he said. “Wanna fight about it?”

Steve’s eyes flashed, lips parting, nostrils flaring and you knew that look, you loved that look. He sucked in a breath, knocking over the stupid ceramic horse statue on top of the dresser when he backed into it. He nodded, a determined look in his eyes.

“Yeah,” his voice cracked. “Fuck, yeah, let’s fight about it.”

You grinned, wicked, sliding down the straps of your bra, hands behind your back to snap at the hooks. It joined your dress on the floor. Steve’s head hit the wall with a thud, tipped back, pupils blown wide, panting.

He needed this.

“C’mon, pretty boy,” you murmured, “let’s make it better.”

Steve crossed the room in seconds, shirt shed before he reached you, some buttons popping and scattering across the room. He was rough when he kissed you, hands grabbing at your waist, almost bending you backwards when his mouth met yours, tongue sweeping past your lips immediately.

You keened high, uncaring about the other guests, knowing that the dining room was far enough away that they’d probably not hear anyway. So you kissed back just as desperate, hands clutching Steve’s jaw, squeaking when he lifted you without warning, grasping at your thighs that he coaxed around his hips.

Your back hit a wall, photo frames rattling and you felt the click of his teeth against yours when you grinned against each other, chests heaving.

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, hands grabbing at the dough of your ass, pushing your thighs apart so he could grind into you, already painfully hard. “Princess.”

He said it like he used to, less softer, a little more mean, teasing and sticky with condescension. It made your toes curl. Made you think about your first kiss in a cabin in the forest, thick, summer heat clawing at your throat along with an undeniable need for the boy. It felt animalistic. Like this did now.

“Wanna fuck me?” You cooed, voice breathy, hands raking through the boy’s hair, nails leaving marks on his shoulders, his back. “Yeah, baby? Wanna fuck me hard? Wanna mark me up and forget about everything else?”

Steve groaned, a messy, dirty noise and he sounded wild. He nodded, nose bumping yours, one hand skating up your bare side until he could catch at your jaw.

“Fuck, yeah I do. Gonna be good for me?” He asked nicely and god, he looked so good. Tanned skin, freckles across his shoulders, lips swollen and slick from your kisses. “Gonna do as you’re told?”

You grinned, kissing sweet at his jaw. “Not in the slightest,” you whispered against his skin.

Satisfied, you let your head fall back against the wall, watching Steve from under your lashes, hands skating across his throat. Steve wanted a fight, after all. He liked the way you pushed back, babe as good as you got, when pressed him into the pillows so you could ride him until he wanted to cry at how good it felt.

He wanted his hair pulled, scratches down his back, your moans in his ear, lavender coloured bruises on his throat, ones that matched yours. He wanted to fuck out the anger like you were the one who caused it.

You never caused it. Ever.

But it was fun to play.

Steve grinned, ecstatic with your answer. His fingers gripped your ass tighter, fingers slipping under the lace there and he spun you both, letting you drop into the bed so you bounced. He reached for his belt buckle, watching you as he stood at the edge of the bed.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” A moment of softness, a gentle hand on your stomach before he pushed you down onto the sheets.

#sorry this got away from me stfdyufd #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #stranger things fic #camp blurb

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lowkeyrobin · 2 months

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Hey pookie😽I’d like to request headcanons for the mcyts with an actor/actress s/o.<3 Especially how they’d react to any emotional scenes or if the character that their s/o played dies, im craving some angst right now lol

Ly😻

oooo okay okay ; I'm still very much burned out but unable to give myself a damn break so I apologize for these being so short ; I also named movies to get some inspo so sorry if you don't know any/some of them lol

ALSO!! I'm gonna rework my oneshot links on my masterlist so beware any changes lol

MCYT ; actor reader with death scenes

includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo, badlinu, nihachu & quackity

warnings ; language, talk about death, gore & violence

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

you played a character in evil dead rise, which tommy got really attached too even though you got like 10 minutes of screen time

genuinley started sobbing and laughing at the same time bc your death was so sad to him for some reason yet so cool and bloody

he looks over at you, jaw dropped like "wtf?"

there's actually tears streaming down his cheeks 💀💀💀

you post a pic of him crying on ur ig story and caption it "he's sad I died"

he logs back into his old letterboxd account to rate it 5 stars

his explanation is "my partner died but good movie. I almost cried again seeing the monster thing at the end though"

TUBBO

he is heartbroken

he absolutely loved your character/s even though they were barely on screen

he's also confused as to how he never knew about you being in IT 2017 and 2019 because you looked so different and easter eggs

the 13 v 15 looks were actually so different too, he didn't even recognize you in the first movie until you pointed it out LMAO

the it 2019 death was a lot more sad to him though and it was mostly a metaphor to show that everyone has weaknesses even if they don't think they do etc etc

he just looks at you and then rants about that whole metaphor after pausing the movie and he's literally on it for a solid five minutes

he awoke a different side of himself that night

RANBOO

you had a little cameo in a quiet place pt2

basically your character was alive for a while and helping out the abbotts until you died saving reagan from one of the death angels

she obviously couldn't hear one behind her and your character had to lunge and save her and sacrifice themselves on the island that she ran off too iykwim

like your character went off with her to keep her safe + you died during that chase/fight scene at the end

ran nearly broke down into tears because you got a solid two hours of time in that movie for all that buildup and shit

TO DIE TOO

they started crying a bit cause like ???

literally gave you an award (a massive hug) for your incredible acting skills bc damn

FREDDIE BADLINU

insidious the red door goes crazy

you bond with dalton at college and help him float around and shit

the demon doesn't like that you're helping him whatsoever so it drags your character into the further

the whole kill is done with you exploring the further for a moment, being hunted down by prey and then jumpscared by the demon

it's not a very emotional death but it scares the fuck out of Freddie

"wait, oh my God, they'll never be able to talk to Dalton about supernatural stuff again! what the hell?"

the death was pointless and for a jumpscare but he couldn't care, he enjoyed watching you on the screen

NIKI NIHACHU

you were in the forever purge

you play a very obviously queer & pro-human rights character who's shit on by all the rich, conservative, ranch owning Texans in the movie

you basically had to sacrifice yourself trying to get to the border in time

in the city scene, you get killed as a protection sacrifice

no way you were letting adela die

niki literally started crying bc there was no reason for your character to give up their life but they did anyways

you were such a w the whole movie and she can't help but rant about that as well

she gives you a round of applause at the end cause like that was a damn good performance cmon now

ALEX QUACKITY

alex is never watching any terrifier movie ever again holy fuck

you skipped over the first one bc you couldn't even watch it again and went to the second because you were in it

he was actually on edge the whole movie

what the hell do you mean you were cut in half??? wtf is this?? saw???

he actually almost puked LMAO

you were laughing the whole time your death was playing

"WHAT THE HELL WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?? THIS UGLY CLOWN IS KILLING MY PARTNER"

"that mf doesn't know you Alex, I do"

"Okay whatever"

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt x reader #mcyt preferences #mcyt oneshot #tommyinnit x reader #ranboo x reader #quackity x reader #badlinu x reader #freddie badlinu x reader #niki nihachu x reader #nihachu x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #gn!reader #they/them reader

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dreamofbecoming · 10 months

Text

yeah alright this got away from me. posting in pieces, part one is just stobin, no shippy stuff. steddie and rockie to follow. i'll drop it on ao3 once all 3 parts are done

now on ao3!

platonic stobin

rating: t

wc: 3.5k

---

Robin stopped being surprised by Steve Harrington showing up at her bedroom window months ago. Jesus, there's a sentence her 16 year old self wouldn't fucking believe for a second. The Hair, climbing up the trellis her dad built for the roses her mom planted and then forgot about three months later? Yeah right, as if. But it turns out alternate dimensions and sci-fi movie monsters and Russian conspiracies in Bumfuck, Nowhere, USA are all real, so how surprising really is The King himself, collapsing through her window with all the grace of a baby giraffe, out of breath like he- holy shit, did he fucking run here?

"Dingus, did you run here? What the hell?"

"Had to- hang on, Jesus. Holy shit." He bends over, hands on his knees, panting like he just ran a marathon. Which, she guesses, he almost did.

"You have a car, you lunatic, what could possibly be so important?"

"Didn't think about it. Had to get here."

"Is someone dead?!" Oh fuck, Is the Upside Down back? Oh shit, oh no, it can't be back, right? Superhero girl closed the gates! Right?! Oh god, oh no, oh fuck, it's back, the Russians are back, they realized they couldn't let her live after what she's seen, her parents will never even know what happened to her, and they'll kill Dingus too, and dorky little Henderson, and that menace Erica, oh god, they're gonna die, and Hopper's gone and superhero girl is far away and she doesn't have superpowers anymore anyway, which is frankly bogus because what the hell, Robin never even got to hang out with a real live magic person before, which, ok, that's a selfish thought, but that's ok, we can think selfish thoughts and then set them aside and not act on them, thoughts are not actions, thoughts happen all the time without our consent, they don't determine our character-

"Bobs, you're spiraling. Nothing bad happened, I just realized something and I freaked out and I had to talk to you right away. Forgot to call. Sorry, I should have called. Ran straight out of the house. I don't even think my shoes match, what the fuck?"

She's gonna kill him, she really is.

She loves him so much.

"Jesus, you're insane. Sit, you absolute dweeb. I'm getting you some water, when I get back you can tell me what the hell is going on."

He's sitting on her bed when she gets back upstairs, staring at something in his hands. Christ, his hands are shaking. What the fuck, Dingus?

He takes the water and downs it in one go- ugh, sports guys- then flops onto his back and covers his eyes with a miserable groan.

"I know we've got the whole twin telepathy thing going on, bubba, but I'm gonna need at least a little bit to work with here. Give me something. Is it your parents? The kids? Uh, what was her name? From Thursday? Janice?"

"Janine, and no. Ugh. Here." The arm not covering his eyes flops out towards her, holding- ah. A zine. He had promised to drive up to Indy last weekend to the secret bookshop she told him about and get her some new ones, even though she couldn't go with him because her cousin Randy got caught cheating on his fiancée and her parents made her come with the rest of the family to help him move. Fucking Randy. Maybe he should make better choices, so the rest of them wouldn't have to clean up his messes. Jerk.

Anyway.

"Marked the page." Which, yep, there's a purple paper clip stuck to a page near the middle, because Steve knows how much she hates people who dogear books, even books that aren't really books at all, so he's been training himself out of it, because he's sort of the best. Again, 16 year old Robin would have her committed for thinking that, but here we are.

The pamphlet isn't one of the periodicals she sent him for, so he must have picked it up on his own. It looks handmade, just some folded sheets that look like they came out of a typewriter, bound with the kind of twine you can buy at the hardware store. It's called Awakenings. The page he's marked looks like a personal essay, no title, no real signature, just a pair of initials at the end of the page and a half of writing. She starts reading, trying to figure out what the hell spooked Steve so bad.

"I've always been normal. I've always had crushes on men, just like the other girls. There was never a feeling of "I'm different," or "Oh, this is wrong." There was never anything to think very hard about. I'd giggle and blush when the boys looked over at us on the playground, same as everyone else. Later on when I was older I looked at my poster of Harrison Ford, shirtless and hairy and sweating, and I touched myself, and it felt good, just like it was supposed to. I didn't mind thinking of my future husband, and our future kids, and the pretty house with the pretty garden we'd have, just like my parents have, just like they wanted for me. I was normal. Everything was fine.

I thought everything about me was normal. So I didn't understand why the other girls at sleepover parties would giggle and stop and say "Ew, gross!" when we practiced kissing. It felt nice! I wanted to keep going! But it seemed like no one else did. I didn't understand why none of them talked about getting butterflies in their stomach when Laura, who was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, transferred in our senior year, why they seemed so angry at her. Those butterflies were what jealousy felt like, right? So why did the other girls seem to feel so different?

I made my first lesbian friend in college, on the very first day, right across the hall in my dorm. We sat next to each other at Orientation and I thought I'd never have another best friend that wonderful in my whole life, so I'd hold on to her with everything I had. She came out to me the night before Christmas break, hiding under the blankets in my dorm room with the twinkling lights glowing. She was so scared. I held her and told her I loved her no matter what, and she seemed so glad, to have someone to talk to.

When she talked about falling in love with girls, I was so confused. The way she described it sounded like what it felt like to have girlfriends, I was sure. I felt that all the time. I asked her if she was sure she was gay, and she looked so shocked and angry and hurt, and I didn't know how to fix it, so I tried to explain. That what she felt couldn't be liking girls, because I felt that too, and I was normal. I liked boys, so I couldn't be gay. I couldn't be.

I'm glad it was her I said all that to. If someone else had told me about being bisexual, I think I would have hated them. I would have cried, and screamed, and said horrible things. Because I wasn't gay, I was normal, and it was so scary to think that might be a lie. Thank God it was her, my best friend in the world, who I never want to lose. Thank God I listened.

Because I'm not normal. I'm queer. I like men, and I like women. I can love them both the same, but it doesn't matter anymore, because I love her. I love her, and she loves me, and I don't need to be normal anymore."

Robin's face feels wet, which probably means she's crying. She cries a lot, reading these sorts of stories, in the zines she has to keep hidden under her bed, or, these days, at Steve's house. It's never going to be her, she knows. Not here in Hawkins, but it still makes something ache deep inside her, like pressing on a bruise, but in a good way, seeing love happen to other people. People like her. Seeing that it can.

"So?"

Oh shit. Right, Dingus. They're about him right now. Something about this essay in particular freaked him out.

"Uh. It's. A nice essay? I'm glad things worked out for them?"

Stevie lets out a pathetic whine, sort of like back at Scoops when he earned a particularly bad tally on the You Suck board. "Robbiiiiiiieeeee!"

"I'm sorry! I think I'm missing something, what's wrong with this essay? I don't get it, bubba, I'm sorry. I need some context." She does feel bad. Usually she can pluck whatever's bothering him right out of his brain and into the light, where it almost never looks as bad, but she's at a loss right now.

He's got both hands over his face again, and his response is so muffled she can't make out a word.

"Try again in human sounds, please."

"Ugh! I thought everyone felt like that!"

Huh? "Felt like...what, exactly?"

"Like that!" He flails wildly at the pamphlet in her hands. He's sitting up now, hair all askew from tugging at it, and there's a vaguely worrying crazed look in his eye, like right before he tackled that guard. "Like kissing boys and girls both feel nice, and like seeing a handsome guy and feeling jealous of him makes my stomach flutter, and like having friends feels the same as having crushes! I thought that was just how everyone felt all the time!"

Oh.

Oh no.

Poor Dingus! No wonder he panicked and ran here like a crazy person!

"Stevie, can I hug you? Please?" She's not much for physical touch most of the time, but Steve is, and also she's found in the last few months that she doesn't mind so much when it's him. She sort of understands why other people like hugs so much, if they always feel like hugging Steve feels for her. And she really thinks he needs to be hugged, right now.

He nods miserably. She drapes her arms around his shoulders and holds on as tight as she can, hauling him sideways until he's practically laying down on her. He clutches her back and buries his face in her shoulder. She can feel her neck getting wet with tears, a sensation that would normally make her want to claw off her own skin, but this isn't about her. Dingus needs her.

"It's ok, bubba. I'm so sorry. I know how scary this is. When I first figured out I had a crush on Linda Sanderson I cried so hard I threw up, you know? I get it. It's gonna be ok, I promise. We'll make it ok. We faced down evil Russians and giant meat monsters, what's a little sexuality crisis, huh? We got this! We're the goddamn Wonder Twins!"

He snorts at that, which she's pretty sure leaves snot on her neck, which. Ew. Still. Problems for Later Robin.

"We are not, Will and El are the Wonder Twins."

"Uh, nope, no chance, I barely even met them so therefore I am vetoing their application. Sorry kiddos, better luck next time! Find your own nickname, losers!"

Steve sits back, laughing, and she preens a little at being able to bring him back from the brink so easily. She loves him so much she feels like she's glowing with it, sometimes. It almost makes her wish she was straight, because what girl is she ever going to find who loves her this much? But only almost, because. Well. Girls, amiright? Phew.

"So what now, Stevie? You wanna say it out loud? That helps, sometimes. You wanna not say it out loud? You wanna go to a gay bar and find you a boy? You wanna never think about it again? It's totally your call."

"Say it out loud, huh?"

"Hm. It took me like a month, and then the first time I could only say it sitting in the back of my closet with the bedroom door locked and the closet door closed, and I could only whisper it. Just "I'm a lesbian," to myself, like the world's most ironic little goblin. And I had to throw up again after. But it did feel good, once I rinsed my mouth out, anyway. Cleansing, you know? And it gets easier every time." Steve's eyebrows are raised and he's chuckling again, so that's a win. She's not lying, but it is sort of funny, she supposes. In hindsight, anyway.

"Ok. Ok, I can do that. I think. Yeah, I can do that."

She's so proud of him. He's the bravest person she's ever met, she thinks. "You wanna get in the closet?"

"Isn't the whole point to come out of the closet, Robs?" He's smirking at her. Bastard. She whacks him in the shoulder on principle. He may be having a crisis, but he's still a jackass. Her favorite jackass in the whole world, but still.

"Har har, you're a regular Bob Hope. Alright then, bigshot, let's hear it."

A little of that fear creeps back onto his face, and she wishes she could wipe it off, but that's not how this works. They can't make the scary things less scary. He couldn't make the Russians less terrifying, but he could hold her hand and make her laugh and carry some of that fear with her. She can do that for him now, too.

She grabs his hand, and he clutches back tightly. He takes a deep breath.

"I'm...fuck. Ok. Ok, I can do this. I'm...bisexual." The air leaves him in a big whoosh, and he laughs a little. "Yeah, ok, fuck. I'm bisexual. Holy shit, Robbie, I'm bisexual!"

"Hell yeah you are!" She's grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. She's so fucking proud of him.

He's laughing again, a little hysterically, and he hugs her tight again, and she holds him back just as close and thinks oh, he's like me. I'm not alone. I have Steve, and he's like me, and he's mine forever and ever.

When they separate, she looks at him seriously.

"So do you, like, want this to be a thing? Because we can totally make it a thing, and like, get me a fake ID and go to a gay bar and do all kinds of wild shit if you want, but we don't have to, you know? If you need to just, like. Digest this, for a while. It's totally up to you, I just know it took me a while to feel ok with it, and I have no idea if it's different for you but I just want to be what you need, you know? You've been so good with me, and I've never had a queer friend before, so I don't know how, but I want to be just as good to you. You're my Dingus and I love you and I don't know how much of a gay guru I can be on account of, you know, I've never met any gay people besides me and the pretty lady at the bookstore but I couldn't even get real human words to come out of my mouth when I tried to talk to her so I don't think that counts, you know? But I still wanna help! Let me help!"

"Bobbie! Bobbie breathe, you're gonna pass out. I don't think I need a gay guru, I just need a gay best friend, and I have that, so I promise I'm good, ok? Promise. Also I love you too.”

She takes a deep breath, following his lead the way they worked out in the horrible days after Starcourt, when she couldn't sleep without him next to her, warm and alive and breathing, and even then she would wake up in the night with her breath coming short and her vision tunneling and Steve would hold her hand against his chest and breathe slowly, in and out, until she could follow him, and the world wasn't so terrible and scary and loud anymore.

She still thinks about that awful hour underground, thinking she was strapped to the corpse of a boy she never let become her friend, but Steve is always there now when she needs him, and he never complains when she grabs his wrist or puts her head on his chest to make absolutely sure that big, stupid heart is still beating.

When she's breathing normally again, he drops their joined hands down between them, toying idly with the chain linking her ring to her bracelet. "I think...I think I'm glad I said it, and I'm glad we talked about it, but can we maybe just...put it away, for a while? Like it's not...ugh. I guess this is kind of shitty to say, so like, hit me if you want, I guess, but I kind of don't think it matters right now?"

"No no, that makes perfect sense! Like, you still like girls, right?" He nods. "And you don't like. Have a crush on any boys right now. Or do you? Oh man if you do you have to tell me though, it's platonic soulmate law. It's in the bylaws, Steve, don't make me soulmate fine you!"

He laughs and shoves her face away. "Jesus, Rob, no! I don't have a crush on any guys, who would I even crush on in this town? We're not exactly swimming in eligible bachelors. I don't have a crush on anybody at all, I'd tell you, I swear. I know the rules!"

"Oh phew, good. You have to tell me when you do, though, I'm way excited to get you back for making fun of Tammy."

"It was the God's honest truth, Bobbie! She sings like a muppet!"

"Oh my god, shut up, Dingus! Ugh! As I was saying, you super duper have to tell me when you do, but for now, I think maybe you don't have to think about it really at all if you don't want. I mean, practically speaking, it's not really relevant to your everyday life, so we can totally revisit when that changes, but you don't have to like. Join a pride parade tomorrow, you know? You are you who are no matter what. You don't have to prove anything to anyone, especially not to me, not ever."

He leans his head on her shoulder, and she scritches her nails through his hair. It really has no right being as soft as it is, with the amount of hairspray he uses. It's frankly rude, is what it is.

"Thanks, Bobs. I think I'm just gonna put it away for now. It just...another thing to know about me, you know? Like, I'm bad at fighting people but good at fighting monsters, all my best friends are kids except you, I'm bi but it doesn't matter because there aren't any boys to date in Hawkins anyway. Plus my dad would kill me if he found out. Like actually kill me, not "oh geez I missed curfew, my dad's gonna kill me" type kill me, like I think he'd actually try and beat me to death. So there's really no reason to talk about it right now, you know?"

There's a pit of ice in her stomach, and she tightens her arm around him like she can keep him safe just by holding on tight enough. She hates how casually he said that, just like she hates how casually he always talks about how his parents treat him, like he honestly believes it's normal. "Jesus, Dingus. You know you can come here if you need, right? My parents love you, they already think we're getting married. They'd make you sleep in the guest room, but I could sneak you in here easy."

He snorts again. "We're totally gonna end up married for tax reasons anyway, we're never beating the rumors." That makes her snort, too. He's not wrong, though. She isn't going to be allowed to have a wife anytime soon, and if she has to choose someone to be her next of kin, it's always gonna be him. They're planning to move in together when she goes to school next year anyway. No one is ever gonna believe them that they aren't dating, but that's...fine. Honestly, there are worse things. Better to have Steve by her side than not, and if no one else understands them, well, they understand each other, don't they? That's more than enough.

"Yeah, I know I can come here if I need, Robs. It's fine mostly, I swear. They're not home until Christmas anyway."

He takes another deep breath, like he's settling himself. "I'm just glad we talked about it. I feel better now."

She cards her fingers through his hair again, basking in the feeling of her favorite person so close, and so content. "I'm glad, Dingus."

They're alive, and they're together, and they're queer, and neither of them is ever going to have to be alone again.

"Hang on, did you say you've kissed girls and boys?!"

part 2 part 3

#stranger things #platonic stobin #steve harrington & robin buckley #steve harrington #robin buckley #bisexual steve harrington #steve's bi awakening #my writing #robin calls steve bubba and steve calls her bobbie and i will die on both those hills #you can pry their weird nicknames from my cold dead hands #autistic robin buckley #it’s subtle but it’s there and it’s important to me #also her parents are therapists i’m sure of it

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 7 months

Text

Cooking Up Love, Chapter 12

Pairing: Chef!Matt Murdock x F!Journalist!Reader

Rating: T

Story Summary: Here

Warnings/Tags: Hallmark levels of fluffy, cheesy goodness (and speed that their relationship develops, lol), no use of Y/N, Matt is not a vigilante, idiots in love, angst

Word Count: ~1800

A/N: It's time for Mega Angst, which means we have 2 more chapters to go until our resolution!

Tag List: @yarrystyleeza @hailey-murdock @mattkinsella @bellaxgiornata @danzer8705 @chezagnes @shouldbestudying41 @thepunisherfrankcastle @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @roseslovedreams

"Hey, Ellison is looking for you," Skyler said on Friday morning. "He said he wanted to talk to you about something."

"Oh, okay, thanks," you replied.

Skyler eyed you. "Still haven't heard from Chef Hottie?"

You shook your head. "Nope. I tried texting Matt yesterday just to let him know that I'd be emailing a copy of my article to him after Ellison approved it and never got a response."

Skyler frowned. "Well that's shitty."

"Told you he'd ditch you as soon as it was all over," Kelsie said as she walked up. "Although I'm surprised he didn't at least wait until your article came out."

She let out a snide laugh. "He must've really not been into you."

Your heart twisted. After rehashing the events of your blind tasting with Skyler on Tuesday you had allowed yourself a small glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe , Matt had been genuine with you, but once again Kelsie had come along to squash it.

You swallowed and shook your head. "It really doesn't matter what Chef Murdock thinks of me personally. I'm still going to write the truth about him."

"And that's why you'll be stuck writing puff pieces your entire career." Kelsie shrugged. "Well, I better get busy. James is picking me up early for our weekend away and I don't want to be rushing to get things done last-minute."

Skyler scowled as Kelsie sauntered away. "One day… One day I'm going to go off on her, and I promise you, it won't be pretty."

She turned to you. "You okay?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm gonna go ahead and go see Ellison. I'll catch up with you later."

You headed towards Ellison's office, knocking on the doorframe when you reached the threshold. "Hey, you wanted to see me?"

Ellison nodded and gestured towards the couch opposite him. "Yeah, take a seat."

Oh, shit. Sitting was never good news. Sitting indicated Serious Conversation that usually resulted in someone getting reprimanded -- or worse.

You swallowed nervously as you sat. "What's up?"

Ellison reached for a stapled set of papers -- papers you recognized as the copy of your article that you had set on his desk Wednesday afternoon and had been waiting for feedback on. "I want to talk to you about your article."

You didn't notice any red markings on it, but you weren't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

A dozen thoughts flew through your mind, none of them good. Did he hate my article and I need to rewrite the entire thing? Am I being reassigned? Did Matt call to complain about me having been unprofessional somehow and that's why I haven't heard from him?

Ellison peered up at you above his glasses. "Remember when I told you not to make me regret agreeing to give you a raise?"

You nodded, your heartbeat quickening. "Uh huh."

"Well…" Ellison grinned at you. "There's a reason I told you that you're my best reporter, and it's because of articles like this."

A wave of relief washed over you. Oh, thank God. "You liked it?"

"Liked it? I loved it." Ellison shook his head. "In fact, I think this is the best article I've read in a very long time."

A slow smile spread across your face. "Really?"

Ellison nodded. "I knew if anyone on staff would be able to get Chef Murdock to open up, it would be you. I feel like I've gotten to know him through your writing -- that bit about him volunteering to cook for the soup kitchen at Clinton Church every Sunday after the restaurant closes? It's almost like I was there with the two of you. The descriptions of the dishes you tried at his restaurant? I could almost taste them myself."

He flipped to the second page. "And that final line? 'Chef Murdock's professionalism, masterful culinary skills, and obvious love and care that he puts into his cooking all combine to create a delicious recipe for success' ? Probably the best closing sentence I've ever read. In fact, I was so blown away by your article that I'm submitting it for consideration in the NYPC's Journalism awards next year. I have a feeling it'll win the Best Feature Reporting category by a landslide."

You were speechless. "I honestly don't know what to say, Mitch. Thank you."

Ellison leaned back in his chair with a grin. "Say you'll remember to thank me in your acceptance speech when you inevitably win."

You nodded. "Absolutely. If I win, you'll be the first person I thank."

"Good. Now, I have an editorial column to write for Restaurant Week so let me get back to it, but I want to tell you again… great job."

You stood. "Thank you, Mitch, truly."

You left Ellison's office, a huge smile on your face.

"You look happy," Skyler said as you passed her in the hallway. "Good meeting?"

You nodded. "The best. Ellison loved my article and said that he was going to nominate it for the Press Club's Journalism awards next year."

Skyler gasped. "You're kidding!"

She wrapped her arms around you in a hug. "Oh my gosh, I'm so happy for you. My best friend, an award-winning journalist!"

You huffed out a laugh as you gave her a quick hug back. "That's the dream, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. I probably won't win."

Skyler shook her head. "Oh, I'm pretty sure you will. You're an incredible writer."

"Thanks, Sky." You smiled. "I'm gonna go send my article over to Matt. Hopefully he likes it as much as Ellison did."

"Okay. I'm about to head out to go pick up my press pass for that music festival I'm covering this weekend. Did you want me to grab something for you while I'm out?"

You shook your head. "I'm good. Thanks though."

"Okay, I'll see you later then."

You headed back to your desk and pulled up your email, clicking the button to draft a new email and attaching the document with your article from your desktop.

To: [email protected]

Subject: Bulletin Article

Attachment: Restaurant Week Feature V1.doc

You considered adding a message, but still wasn't sure what you'd say to him besides "I'm sorry", so you left it blank.

You were getting ready to click send when Kelsie walked up to you. "There's a delivery for you downstairs," she said. "You have to go sign for it."

Your brow furrowed. Normally Phil, the Bulletin 's security guard, signed for deliveries and put them in your mailbox. "Oh. Okay."

"And by the way, I'm not your secretary, so next time there's a message for you, someone else can deliver it."

You sighed. "Whatever, Kelsie."

You stood and headed to the elevator, then went down to the first floor.

You frowned as the doors opened and you stepped out to an empty lobby.

You walked over to the security desk. "Phil, did I have a delivery in the past couple of minutes?"

The security guard shook his head. "We had several packages come in, but nothing for you that I know of."

You shrugged. Kelsie must've been mistaken. "Okay, thanks."

You headed back upstairs to your desk and clicked send on your email to Matt.

You sighed. At least that's done.

…So why did you feel uneasy?

Matt was sitting at his computer in his office working on the next week's purchase orders when his computer chimed with a new email alert.

He navigated to his inbox and opened the email, waiting as his voice accessibility feature read out the information.

From: [email protected]

Subject: Bulletin Article

Attachments: (1) Restaurant Week Feature V1.doc

He took a deep breath and opened the attachment, an uneasy feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.

He plugged in his headphones, then hit the keyboard command to start his text-to-speech service.

His heart sank as his computer began to read the article aloud to him. It was full of false information, including completely made-up quotes and scathing reviews of both Daredevil and Matt personally. At least she left what I told her at Fogwell's out of it.

He listened to it twice more, his stomach sinking lower and lower each time.

He was contemplating listening to it yet another time when Foggy walked in. "Hey, Matt, we need to add extra oranges to next week's --"

He paused. "What's wrong?"

Matt sighed. "The Bulletin article."

Foggy stepped fully inside the office. "Oh, you got it?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah, and it's just like I thought -- she was using me the whole time."

Foggy placed a hand on the back of Matt's chair as he peered at Matt's computer screen.

He sucked in a breath. " Shit, man, I'm sorry."

Matt shook his head. "I knew it. I knew that she would turn out to be just like Elektra."

His phone began to ring, the repetition of your name twisting the knife into his heart.

He answered, saying your name flatly.

"Matt, hi," you replied. "I was just calling to let you know that I sent you a copy of my article."

"Yeah, I got it."

"Oh. Okay." You sounded unsure. "Have you read it yet?"

"Oh, yeah, I read it." Matt scoffed. "What, are you expecting me to be happy about it, to say 'thank you?' I knew I shouldn't have trusted you -- all you journalists are exactly alike."

"What?" You sounded confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you used me to make a name for yourself. Always looking for the next big scoop, no matter who you screw over in the process."

"Screw over? Matt, I don't under--"

"I actually thought you cared about me, that maybe you felt--" Matt cut himself off and shook his head. "You know what, don't bother coming by my restaurant ever again -- you're not welcome here."

Before you could say anything else, Matt hung up then threw his phone across the room. "Fuck. "

Foggy placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Matty."

Matt shook his head. "You know, the worst part about all this is that I could feel myself falling for her, Fog. I thought she was different, I thought -- I thought that maybe someday she could be the one."

He sighed. "By the way, I know you meant well and all, but don't ever offer for me to do anything involving a journalist ever again."

Foggy chuckled. "Oh, no danger of that, don't worry."

He patted Matt's shoulder. "Come on, let's finish getting ready. If this article is going to tank us then we're going to make these last few services the best we possibly can."

#lotmf writes #Cooking Up Love Masterlist #Chef!Matt Murdock x Reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt muerdock x you

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the-fiction-witch · 5 months

Text

Coming!

Media IRL

Character Thomas Brodie Sangster

Couple Thomas X Reader

Rating Flirty

I stood in the bedroom, looking at every inch of me in my mirror. I couldn't stop picking at myself all my little tiny details all the things I would change if I could.

"My cheeks are too chubby, I don't have like smooth cheekbones,"

"Your cheeks are fine Y/n," Thomas answers from the bed, where he sits against the headboard with some sort of... I don't actually know what is is some puzzler thing his friends set him he'd been battling with it for four days and had yet to get anywhere with it.

"But they're chubby,"

"Exactly, I can pinch them." he smiled, "Pinchy pinchy," He smiled trying to pinch my cheek but I batted his hand away, "No! Let me crab pinch you." he said trying to pinch my cheeks,

"No! thomas! go back to your damn puzzle cube," I told him

He did so I went back to the mirror,

"My nose is ugly,"

"I like it, very boopable."

"My eyelids are weird."

"... You're eyelids?"

"Yeah, they should be less winkly and more curved."

"... I never thought eyelids could be unattractive, or even that anyone would look that closely at eyelids." He said, "Well I like them," he shrugged "I think your eyelids are lovely" he said sitting up on his knees making me shut my eyes and kissing my eyelids "Boop" He smiled booping my nose with his own,

"Stop complimenting me thomas."

"Why? You're adorable and I like telling you" he smiled, before sitting back on the bed and grabbing the puzzle box, "Now... reveal your secrets to me cube!"

"Hmmm... My arms are flabby."

"Your arms are lovely, they give me hugs"

"My neck is too long,"

"... I... too long? its neck is as long as it needs to be. I like your neck, it's long so I have lots of real estate for hickeys and kisses."

"My waist should be more defined."

"I can wrap my arms around it fine."

"My thighs are too big."

"You're thighs are amazing! they squeeze my head and it's like the best feeling in the world, plus I rest my hand when I'm driving, and you are a very nice handrest, and headrest, and anything rest really,"

"My legs are too short."

"You're legs are your legs love, you can't change them and why would you even if you could, your just the right size to snuggle when we stand up, I get to rest my head on you it makes me very cosy."

"My stomach is too flabby."

"You're stomach is fine!" He complained, "What is this about?"

"Humm?"

"You. picking at your damn self" he said, "Come here."

"I don't wan-"

"Here. bring that but here before I spank it." he warned so I sat on the bed, "What is the matter y/n? you're perfect, you know I think your perfect, your the most beautiful thing in the world, what's going you like this."

"Lisa..."

"Lisa? what's lisa done now." he sighed already annoyed,

"She got a nose job today."

"Ahh that... makes a lot of sense now." He nodded, "You're feeling insecure because Lisa is getting plastic surgery."

"Yeah,"

"Why?"

"Becuase she's gonna look perfect after this and it makes me feel... ugly."

"It's gonna make her look like plastic I've seen her plastic surgery plan. she wants a waist of twenty-five inches and E-cup boobs. and she's not going somewhere good, that place she's going to for these advertisements on Facebook...she's gonna end up looking like most people who get cheap plastic surgery, like a weird rubbery sex doll. and that's all she'll be a weird rubbery sex doll with no personality." he explained, "I love you, my beautiful real girl, I love your eyes, your eyelids, your chubby little cheeks, your cute nose, I love everything because there yours love. I see you're body and see the scars and little things people would call imperfections and I see all the little things that make you the way you are, all your little scars and imperfections that show the life we've lived. You're not some airbrushed waxy doll and I wouldn't ever want you to be."

"You wouldn't? you wouldn't want me to look like a magazine model?"

"God no! they airbrush the crap out of magazines." he laughed, "Would you want me to look like that? all smooth and air brushed, and surgery enhanced?"

"No! I like you just the way you are,"

"see, that's the way I feel about you. Even I'm not a weird waxy doll, I am, weird too everyone is. I have a lot of veins coming through on my hands and arms, I have that weird scar on my leg from that motorbike crash, I don't even get chest hair which I admit does kinda make me sad... but you don't see me going out and sticking astroterf to my chest do you?"

"No," I giggled,

"See, imperfections are what make us human love, and I love you very very much,"

"Awww I love you too thomas." I smiled, "but you don't think I'd look better if I had bigger boobs."

"... You're boobs are fine love. I like your boobs. They're great." He smiled, "Perfectly hand-sized."

"Is that your attempt at asking to touch my boobs?"

"...Yes." He smiled,

"Alright" I chuckled and immediately his hands went to my boobs

"Ummmmm I love these so much. why would anyone wanna shove plastic and filler and junk into this perfect marshmallowy deliciousness."

"I don't know I kinda feel like my nipples look weird."

"your nipples look weird?" he asked, "I have never ever in my life paid attention to what your nipples look like, I see them... I get excited, I wanna kiss them, play with them and sometimes suck on them. I do not pay the slightest bit of attention to what they look like, I purely care I'm getting to see them the only thought going through my mind is one simple word."

"Which is?"

"yay." He said, "Do. not. change. your boobs. they. are perfect." he said kissing my chest a little as he plaid with my boobs,

"Alright you have fun Tommy," I laughed petting his hair i took his puzzle box and gave it a go myself giving it a tinker and opening it up to reveal a single chocolate truffle

"W-What did you do!" He yelped taking it from me, "How did you- oww... now I'll never figure it out." He sighed

I rolled my eyes and put the chocolate back inside and shut it up again "There."

"Yes! Thank you, love," he smiled taking it back, "Now show me what you did."

"No, you have to figure it out that's the point of the puzzle box thomas."

"Fine," he pouts working with it again,

"Well, I need a shower..." I sighed, getting up and grabbing a towel,

"Alright, have fun love." he smiled as he worked on the puzzle box,

"You wanna join me?"

"Hu..."

"do you want to join me?"

"In ... in the shower?"

"Yeah,"

"Yes!"

"Alright let's go," I smiled heading to the bathroom

"Coming!" He excitedly yelled jumping out the bed throwing his shirt and racing after me.

#thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #tbs smut #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #tbs

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imagines--galore · 1 year

Note

hi, saw ur post saying that ur feeling down and i’m really sorry to hear that and just try to stay optimistic. you asked for hurt/comfort prompts to help you cheer up, so i was wondering if you could do tasm or mcu peter parker x reader where she’s kind of been hiding the fact that she’s down and so one day she snaps and it all comes out and he helps calm her down and is just there for her and really sweet?? hope u have an amazing day/night & feel better🫶

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. Hurt/Comfort. A/N: Cuddles make everything better. Though I wouldn't know it myself. I'm a sad person : P

Final Projects. Work. Exams. Assignments. Extracurricular. Internship. Bills.

There was just so much to do and not enough hours in the day to do all of them. It should be humanely impossible to complete every single task in a day, yet you were trying your best.

You didn't have any other choice.

If you didn't hand in the final projects, your final grade would drop. If you didn't get to work, you would be fired. If you didn't study for your exams, you would fail. If you didn't complete your assignments your professors would fail you. If you didn't meet the extracurricular requirement you wouldn't have anything to put on your resume once you graduated college. If you didn't do your internship, you would be one step behind every other candidate for any potential job. And if you didn't pay the bills, you would be kicked out of your small apartment.

Oh and if you didn't spend time with Peter, your boyfriend, he would leave you.

Add that to the list as well.

Consumed by your negative thoughts as you tried to power through as assignment that was due the next day, you weren't aware of Peter entering your apartment and opening up the fridge.

"You're out of orange juice, Y/n." He stated, grinning impishly as he finished off the final few dregs in the juice carton.

It was a simple thing, such a simple thing that was the norm between you. You would always tell him while finishing off the last of it in his fridge or cabinet and he would do that same.

But at that time?

You snapped.

"Yes! I know I'm out Peter. I know the I'm out of orange juice because I didn't have the time to go to the store and buy some more. Why?! Because I didn't have the time!." You threw down your pen in frustration before pushing away your books and laptop as you buried your hands in your hair.

"I bit off more then I could fucking chew and now I know I'm gonna fail in all my classes, loose any chance I have of having a good future and wind homeless, which will force me to ask my parents for money, which I hate doing, and you'll leave me because you wouldn't want to be with me anymore, and I just- just-"

Your words became incoherent after that as a pair of familiar arms came around you and pulled you into a warm embrace. All your frustration, anger and fear of failing finally culminated and the dam broke.

Tears fell from your cheeks as you sobbed into your boyfriend's shirt. God! You were so pathetic! You had never done well when it came to pressure, but you had always managed to keep it all inside. But there was just something about Peter hugging you so tightly that it prompted you to loose whatever control you had over your emotions. Maybe because you trusted him. Trusted him to see this side of you and not be berated for it, or simply told to get over it. That was the response you had normally received from almost everyone in your life. That is until you met Peter.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! You deal with so much more than I do, and I'm the one who breaks." You whimpered, suddenly feeling ashamed at having such an over-emotional response. You felt him shake his head.

"How many times have you hugged me and told me I could do everything when it all became too much for me?" He kissed the top of your head. "I think it was time you had a breakdown of your own, you can't stay strong all the time Y/n." He said, stroking your back as he did. Normally you would've argued, but you just wanted a little sympathy. You sniffled, giving a meek nod. "I guess so."

Peter continued to hold you, pressing kisses to your forehead and temple, in an attempt to calm you down further. You sighed as you snuggled further into him. Already you could feel yourself beginning to calm down. But you didn't pull away. Not just yet. You were simply enjoying in the simple pleasure of being in Peter's arms and just being so close to him. That and you loved his kisses. You couldn't get enough of them, if you were honest with yourself.

It was after a good few minutes that you were ready to pull back. Wiping away the tears that were left, Peter kissed both your cheeks, prompting you to giggle softly at the silly smile he wore in an effort to cheer you up further. "How about I get the orange juice and grab some dinner as well. And then after that I'll see if I can help you with your homework." He suggested, prompting you to smile at just how sweet he was being.

With a nod, you agreed. As he stood to do what he had just said, you couldn't help but feel lighter, your head clearer. Turning back to your waiting homework, you tackled it with more vigor then before, eager to be done with it.

#peter parker x reader #peter x reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x y/n #marvel #mcu

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frownyalfred · 5 months

Note

Gonna pile on here as another fic author: I don't think most people realize that authors can and do read public bookmarks, but oh god I wish they would, it's somehow worse then getting outright hate in the inbox

I write popular stuff like you, which I think makes it worse? (which is also why this is on anon lol) People assume I'll never see them say my fic is overhyped or too long, I guess

I have a lot of grace for the accidental public bookmarks. I know it happens sometimes. I've seen this argument wrung six different ways on the ao3 subreddit, and the conclusion I always come to is this: even if it's not done with malicious intent, it does affect authors. And you can't just expect authors to ignore a bookmark that 1) they cannot remove and 2) is slapped right onto their fic for everyone else to see.

It's like walking up to a busker playing piano on the subway and leaving a permanent sticky note on their keyboard that says "6/10 meh could've been better" that they can't ever take off. And they just have to look at it, and make their peace with it, which are important things for creators to be able to do, of course, but puts the onus of being the "better person" solely on the author?

"Well don't look at the bookmarks" "it's not a bad rating" "bookmarks are for readers, not authors" I GET these points. I am also a reader. I read and use bookmarks as recs. But giving out unsolicited criticism, regardless of venue, has always been seen as distasteful. Especially when the things being criticized are done 1) for free 2) in the author's spare time and 3) are so easy to suppress/crush with one poorly-placed comment or bookmark.

I don't say this to rant about how my own writing has been impacted by bookmarks, because while I'll bitch about it here, I'm not really thinking about myself. I'm thinking about the baby author or the new fandom arrival whose success and presence in this fandom is so tenuous, that one bookmark can knock them out of the game entirely. I'm talking about when we forget that there are real people, with real lives, on the other side of that ao3 username. The people who have quit writing because of stuff like this.

I'm not saying you have to like every fic. I'm not saying you can't rec fics to others with valid criticisms attached -- we all do it! Hey, I loved this fic but it's a little rough at the start! I've said that so many times. Would I ever put that in my public bookmark of that work? Absolutely not.

If you've erred with public bookmarks, it's not the end of the world. Make them private or maybe add some thoughts to the bookmark other than a rating. I've seen too many rating "codes" to believe it's all innocuous mistakes. And trust me, slapping a 2/5 on a poor little oneshot is one of the worst things you can do to a new or aspiring author.

/endrant

#sorry for the rant #i got a little carried away #asks #anon #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #ao3 #archive of our own #writing things #author things #reader things

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lostinthewiind · 4 months

Note

I was wondering maybe a titan shifter reader, like season 1 ish era, and Jean? Angst like he sees reader die and get eaten by a titan, and the entire titan thing like Eren? If that makes sense? I haven’t asked a request in so long I’m rusty lol

Just Another Suicidal Maniac

A/N: SO glad someone requested Jean right off the bat because I'm slowly entering my Jean-girlie era and I'm down bad y'all.

Rating: PG13

Warnings: angst, major-character death, gore

"You seriously worry too much." You dusted off your pants as you stood up, grateful that the only damage done by your rough landing was a couple of bruises and scrapes.

Jean, who was in the middle of said worrying, didn't bother to inspect himself first before giving you a once-over with his wide, brown eyes. "Worry? Me?" Jean mocked before gesturing out wildly to the chaos around the two of you with his ODM blade—Titans roamed the streets freely, hunting the many scouts leaping from rooftop to rooftop. "Wonder what I could possibly be worried about?"

"We've made it out of worse situations than this," you reminded him. "You always do this, you know. You have a tendency to let your imagination run wild and assume the worst possible scenarios."

"I like to be prepared for the worst." He pulled you behind a chimney with him to avoid being seen by a passing Titan. Once the Titan had stumbled out of range, he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. "Sue me for caring, I guess," he muttered under his breath.

You couldn't help but chuckle. "I appreciate that you care." You held onto the soft moment while you had the chance—these days, they were rare. "I want you to worry about yourself though. If you got injured, or god-forbid killed, because you were worrying about me and not yourself, I'd never be able to forgive myself."

Jean's harsh gaze softened. "That's not-"

"Is that what you want? You want me to live as a guilt-stricken widow?"

"Okay, first of all," Jean rolled his eyes, "you've always told me that if I die, it'll be because of my own stupidity, so don't go acting like you think otherwise now. Secondly, we're not married so you wouldn't be a widow."

"Oh, so now you're gonna die and revoke my widow status."

Jean groaned. "How about I just don't die at all?"

You smiled. "I think that's a good plan."

"Armin!" You both gasped at the same time.

Before either one of you had the chance to draw out the sappy-yet-lighthearted moment any longer, a scream rang out in the distance. The both of you shared a look when you recognized the voice. Only one person was capable of emitting such a shrill cry for help.

Jumping out from behind the relative safety of the chimney, you surveyed the terrain in the direction of the scream. A few smaller Titans who were just barely taller than the surrounding buildings were ambling about, swiping at the air in a desperate attempt to swat the soaring scouts out of the air.

Without even checking to see if Jean was behind you or not—you just assumed he was based on experience fighting together—you fired your ODM tethers into the nearest building and took off toward your distressed friend.

"Don't worry. I'll handle it." Jean flashed a smirk before looping his hands under the girl and lifting her into his arms. He tried to play off the way he stepped back ever-so-slightly to counteract being thrown off balance but both you and Armin noticed.

When you arrived to the scene, you spotted Armin in a narrow alley slashing his blade back and forth at the Titan hand reaching for him. Behind Armin, the unconscious body of a fellow scout—a girl you didn't quite recognize—laid in the shadows. Thankfully for them, the alley was just narrow enough that the only part of the Titan able to fit was its arm; and it's arm wasn't quite long enough to reach.

Dropping down into the alley, you and Jean quickly assessed the situation. "Thank goodness you're here." Armin breathed a sigh of relief and knelt down beside the girl. "I found her unconscious in the street. I was able to drag her in here but I'm too weak to lift her out of here on my own."

"If you try to use your ODM gear with her in your arms you'll both be splatting into the nearest window like a bug," you told him matter-of-factly. "I'll distract the Titan, you and Armin get her out of here on foot."

"That's probably the best-" Armin wasn't able to finish his thought before Jean interjected.

"Are you crazy?" Jean furrowed his brows. "You're starting to sound like Eren and we don't need two suicidal maniacs in the 104th."

Hands on your hips, you eyed him. "You're worrying again, dear Jean. Unless you have a better plan than this is what we're doing."

"Well if you'd give me a minute I'm sure I could come up with something better."

"Not to rush you guys or anything, but I don't think she has a minute." Armin looked down at the unconscious girl and pointed out the blood that was now visibly seeping through her shirt. "She's losing a lot of blood."

"It would be safer if you skipped the killing part and just looped back around after we were safe," Jean said.

Turning your back on the others, you stepped toward the Titan hand just close enough that its large fingers grasped at the air less than a meter in front of your body. "Then it's settled. My plan it is." You scoped out the area the best you could from your position. "I'll go up to the roof and lure the Titan to the right. If I remember the formations correctly, you guys should be able to meet up with Levi's squad if you turn left. From there, you guys can get this girl help and I can loop back around after I've killed this big guy."

"And leave him to devour someone else? No thanks."

One day you would die and it would be a real shame if you hadn't taken every opportunity to truly live beforehand.

Jean opened his mouth to protest some more but by the time the thought had reached the tip of his tongue, you were already on the roof. You forced a quick smile down at the two boys before stepping to the edge of the shingles. You weren't stupid—you knew this plan was risky and dangerous, but that was what you had signed up for when you made the tough decision to join the cadets and then the scouts. As far as you were concerned, the definition of living was the continued decision to keep going in the face of a world full of risky and dangerous decisions.

Gripping the handle of your ODM blade hard, you began to bang it against the edge of the shingles at your feet. "Hey, big guy!" You shouted to direct the Titan's attention to yourself. "Why waste your time with them when I'm so much easier to grab?"

"Game on."

At first, the Titan was much more interested in the three grounded scouts over the single one above it. But then, it seemed to re-assess the situation and conclude that you were right. As soon the Titan's soulless, buggy eyes had locked onto you, you smirked.

As the Titan's hand reached out to grab you, you jumped out of the way at the last second. With the Titan fully committed to the chase now, you took off toward the right.

Jumping from building to building, you had to be careful not to stumble with the unsteady footing beneath you; the shingles on the rooves were old and slightly loose, and every time the Titan's hand slammed into the roof behind you in attempt to capture its prey, you had to re-steady yourself.

Glancing back over your shoulder for a brief moment, you were pleased to see that Jean and Armin had almost carried the girl all the way to the end of the street in the opposite direction. With a triumphant smile on your face and the belief that the plan was going to be a success, you began mapping out the area and deciding how best to maneuver killing this Titan when the time came. Your plan, however, was a foolish one plagued by one major rookie mistake; you had forgotten to account for the fact that there was never just one Titan to deal with.

As you fired your ODM tethers into a building across the street, you failed to survey the ground below you before stepping off the ledge. One second, you were gliding easily through the air and the next, a smaller Titan had leapt up from the street, mouth snapping shut. There was a blinding pain in your right leg and when your instincts kicked in, you shot yourself away from the Titan.

Without the capacity to plan any further ahead than getting out of immediate danger, you soon found yourself smacking against the cobblestone street hard due to not tethering yourself to another building in your attempt to escape.

What you felt was the paralyzing inability to save yourself.

You cried out as your body skidded against the ground a meter or so before slowing to a stop. Your vision was blurry from hitting your head a couple of times but when you looked down to assess the damage, you felt your blood run cold at the absence of your right foot.

A puddle of bright red blood was quickly pooling from your fresh stump and all ability to think critically had gone out the window. Shock had frozen you in place so much so that you didn't even notice the Titan approaching you or Jean screaming your name until it was too late. You knew you should get up and try your hardest to get out of there; that no matter how futile the attempt, you had to at least try. But right then, what you knew and what you felt were two vastly different things.

Jean, who was about to watch you die.

Eyes slowly travelling up to the Titan looming over you, you suddenly wished you had listened to Jean. Jean, who only ever looked out for your best interest because he truly cared about you. Jean, who put on an act in front of everyone else but let his true personality shine when it was just the two of you. Jean, who was standing at the other end of the street, screaming your name over and over again while Armin held him back from throwing away his life to save yours.

You didn't fight it when the Titan squeezed its fingers around your torso and lifted you from the ground. Accepting your fate, you closed your eyes and tried to focus on not screaming. Your last thought—the one interrupted by the sudden, all-consuming agony of dying—was that you hoped Jean wouldn't life the rest of his life as a guilt-stricken widower.

As the fear slowly started to wash away, replaced by an unnerving sense of calm, you averted your gaze from the Titan and instead decided to spend your last moment alive staring into the brown eyes of the horse-faced boy you fell in love with. You couldn't muster the strength to say anything—you weren't able to decide what you wanted your last words to be even if you could—so instead you raised your right fist over your heart in a salute and smiled.

━━━━━

Your consciousness felt familiar and yet different. You were still you, there was no denying that, but you were also someone else; something else.

Awareness assaulted your senses in an almost cruel fashion. After embracing the comforting finality of death, a sudden return to the land of the living was brutal. You wondered if this was why babies cried right after being born. Then you wondered why you were able to wonder anything at all.

There was no pain, but if you were alive again—or at the very least, not quite dead yet—you should have been overcome with pain.

Standing at full height, you towered above the buildings around you. Your legs were weak and exhaustion gnawed away at your limbs but compared to everything else, the concern of being tired was tucked deep into the back of your mind. Looking down at yourself, you felt confused but not necessarily startled by the sight of patches of pure muscle where skin should have been. Piecing together all the information you had gathered, you were drawn to only one conclusion.

When you finally decided to open your eyes and face whatever reality was waiting for you, you were greeted with a perspective you were not accustomed to. The world around you was smaller than you remembered, and when you placed your hands underneath yourself to stand up, they were larger than you knew they should be. You were larger than you should be.

You were a Titan-shifter.

First suicidal maniac tendencies and now this; Jean was right, you were more like Eren than you thought.

Jean.

Looking over to where Jean and Armin had been when you last saw them, you were slightly surprised to see them still standing there. You didn't know how much time had passed between your technical death and now, but the horrified looks on their faces hadn't changed at all. You knew they knew what had happened to you after experiencing the same phenomenon with Eren but their shock and terror made it seem like this was the first time they had ever seen a human turn into a Titan.

Then again, you supposed the shock and terror could have come from watching you die and then immediately watching you turn into a monster. That was something that would take some getting used to no matter the circumstances.

You wished you could speak to Jean, assure him that you were okay, but like Eren's Titan you were non-verbal. You opened your mouth and the only thing that emerged was a soft, defeated growl.

Despite that, Jean's eyes softened the way they only did when he was looking at you. Then his gaze shifted and the terror returned. When you followed his eye line, you spotted the same smaller Titan that had bitten your foot off running down the street toward Jean, Armin, and the still unconscious girl.

As the Titan darted past you, completely ignoring you in favour of the easy human targets, a new kind of instinct took over. Without even thinking about it—the only thought being protecting the people you cared about—you kicked the smaller Titan hard, sending it flying into the side of a nearby building. When the Titan still showed signs of life, you reached down and grabbed its head with your much larger hand. Letting out a blood-curdling screech, you called upon every last ounce of strength you had left and bit into the nape of its neck. Once you were sure it was dead, you tore the the Titan's head from its body and dropped the remains to your feet.

Looking back over at Armin and Jean to confirm their safety, your knees buckled beneath you. Drained of energy, the last thing you saw before your Titan body slumped forward was Jean rushing toward you.

"Before you accuse me of worrying too much, might I remind you that I literally just watched you die." Jean's voice was urgent yet gentle in your ear.

When your human body emerged from the nape of your Titan form's neck, your lungs reacted as if you had just resurfaced after being underwater and you drew in a deep, gasping breath. Hot steam billowed around you and as your spent body began to flop over. Before you fell, two strong arms wrapped around you from behind.

"Oh, Jean." You let yourself relax into his embrace. "I'm so sorry."

Jean hugged you tight and buried his face in the crook of your neck. "Don't apologize. Don't you ever apologize for coming back to me."

#lostinthewiind #fanfiction #aot #attack on titan #reader insert #jean kirstein #jean #request #angst #titan #suicidal maniac #jean x reader #jean kirschtein x reader

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desceros · 5 months

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Hellooooo I’m 20 todayyyy it’s my birthday 🥳 (12/23) and I’d like to request a birthday sex one shot with Raphael idc which era but I like his personality the best in bayverse (can’t remember if you write for them) but basically reader has a bad day at work or school and goes down to the lair to chill with Raph their boyfriend he realizes he has never asked when readers birthday is and when they say today he drops everything and immediately makes the day about them he takes them back to their apartment and draws a relaxing bath cleans and makes a simple cake (with premade mix he found in the lair kitchen) then maybe he uses the frosting as a kind of worship for reader and licks it off their body doesn’t have to fit that at all if you want to add some pizazz then go ahead but thank youuuuu ❤️❤️❤️

(Symphony is so damn good btw)

ahhhh i just got this like. an hour ago bc i've been offline all day but!!!! happy birthday!!! it isn't exactly what you asked for since i wanted to get it out today on your actual birthday, but i hope you enjoy this lil thing :D raphael/reader; gn!reader; rated m

The moment he hears you telling Leo it's your birthday, he panics.

"What are you doing?" Donnie asks, coming into the kitchen in sniffing at the air. "Are you... baking a cake?"

"I'm focusin', Don, not now," Raph grits, frantically searching through the cabinets to find the icing. Thankfully, it's inside, untouched by icing-licking brothers, so he tosses it off to the side. "Can you, uh, go distract 'em for a bit?"

Donnie rolls his eyes. "You know they're going to ask where you are?"

Raph waves him off, so off he goes.

The cake itself is done before you come sniffing around, thank goodness. However, no one ever told him about waiting until it was cool to put the icing on, and it is in the middle of his near-meltdown at how it keeps oozing down the side that you enter the kitchen, miffed to have been kept away.

"Raph, what are you—?" you ask, only to pause when you see him glaring fiercely at a very sad-looking cake, his eyes going wide when he sees you coming in. God damn it, Donnie! "...Is that for me?"

"Uh," he starts, looking at the very sad, sad cake. Straightening from where he'd hunched over to try and fix the icing, he rubs at the back of his neck. "It was supposed to be. But, uh, this one doesn't look so good, huh?"

Laughing, you come up to stand next to him, trailing a finger through the melted icing and popping it in your mouth. "It might be the ugliest thing I've ever seen. But it tastes good!" Turning to face him, you smile, getting close and tilting your mouth to his invitingly. "Plus, you made it for me. That makes it the best."

Warm, Raph bends down and kisses the sweetness from your lips. He chases after you when you go to pull away, his fingers holding your jaw to keep you close.

"Tell you what," he murmurs, pulling away only when he feels you go pliant in his hold. "How's 'bout you 'n me go back to your place. Let me give you somethin' real nice?"

"Oh, yeah? What do you have in mind?" you ask, voice warbling a little even though you try to put on a brave front. It makes him smirk to hear the weakness he can so easily put into your knees, makes him feel like he's allowed to spew all the filth he wants into your ears.

"Well first, we'll stop by someplace nice and get you a proper cake," he says, tipping your head back and placing his mouth on your throat. "Then, I'm gonna take you home and get that nice big bath of yours goin' with all those pretty smellin' things in it you like that drive me crazy."

He feels you swallow against his mouth, prompting him to sink his teeth in until you whimper. Blood rushing in anticipation, he crowds you against the counter, licking at the mark he knows he's left there now.

"Then, when you're done, I'll fish you out, and use you as a plate for us to eat a slice of that pretty cake and lick the icing off you until you come at least three times. Maybe four if you're good for me."

Trailing his hands down your front to the hem of your shirt, he lets his fingers glide along your skin as he rubs his beak down your neck to burrow his head in your shoulder, nipping along the skin the whole way before he comes to whisper in your ear. Then, with just a hint of promise, he slides his thigh between your legs, pressing up, teasing, giving you a taste of what he wants.

"That sound like a plan?"

When you nod rapidly, hands desperately clutching at the counter behind you to help keep you upright and your breath coming too-fast, he pulls away and smirks, grabbing a finger of icing and dabbing it on your cheek before he licks it off in a heady promise.

"Good. Go say goodbye to the others. 'S gonna be a day or two before you leave your apartment once I get started with ya."

#ask tag #raphael/reader #rating: m #my fic

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minijenn · 4 months

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Jen Tortures Herself With Every Dreamworks Animated Movie Ever: The Bad Guys

So this is yet another Dreamworks movie I've heard nothing but good things about but just never got around to watching for some reason or another. And now that I have watched it, all I can say is what the fuck how did I sleep on this absolute gem of a film for so long???? Its so good, ya'll, SO damn good! So let's get into all of the many reasons why!

The Bad Guys are a group of infamous criminals, made up of the cunning Snake, master of disguise Shark, loose-canon Piranha, hacker Tarantula, and the leader of the pack, Wolf. After getting caught attempting to pull of a daring heist, the Bad Guys pretend to work on going good to pull off an even greater heist... until Wolf begins to wonder if being good might not be so bad after all.

So let me just say, the plot here is brilliant. Like seriously, there were some twists and turns here (especially toward the end) that had me YELLING over how genuis they were. It's extremely tightly crafted, sharply written, and pulled together by an incredibly charming cast that you just love to watch. It's a thrilling ride from start to end and I was excited to see where it would go next with every new scene.

The characters, like I said, are really great! Wolf is a really well-developed lead who goes through a pretty compelling arc, same with Snake (seriously, the fakeout with him toward the end had me in awe, what a total pro) and a good deal of the drama in the film lies between those two. The other Bad Guys are a bit less in focus, but they're still really fun and all play off each other really well too. Also, Diane, the governor??? Holy shit ya'll? She's AMAZING. Not gonna spoil the twist involving her but let me just say she is so damn COOL like oh my god.

This movie does attempt a twist villain but like... idk Marmalade isn't really that much of a twist villain? From the moment he showed up I said to myself "oh, he's the villain isn't he?" and I was proven right, but like... the reveal of how he set the Bag Guys up from the very start was so clever that I couldn't even be upset about it. This tiny motherfucker played them up until the very end where he finally got his comeuppance. Good villain. Not the best, but still, pretty good.

The humor here is pretty fun, with some jokes that genuinely had me laughing out loud. Of course, it couldn't quite help itself with a few fart jokes here and there, which... ermmm aren't quite my up of tea. Still, it balances that humor out well with some pretty compelling drama and a lot of heart that really helps to engage you in the story they're telling here.

Also the animation??? Oh my GOD the way this movie looks is INSANE. Like, just the character designs alone are so fresh and interesting compared to what Dreamworks has done in the past. There's this overall stylization to this movie that's very sharp and unique, and it just makes it a feast for the eyes. The way the characters move too, very fast and snappy, as if they're 2-d characters instead of 3-d. Lots of exagerrated motions and facial expressions, it's all very silly, yes, but it works so well with the tone this movie is trying to pull off.

So yeah, I hella loved this one. I'm so mad at myself for not watching this when it first came out, because its such a joy ride from start to finish. So stylish, so witty, so engaging, and so fun! I had a great time with The Bad Guys, and if you haven't seen it yet, you should, because chances are, you will too.

Rating: 9/10

Verdict: IS THAT FUCKING KINGDOM HEARTS????

Previous Review (The Boss Baby: Family Business)

Next Review (Puss in Boots: The Last Wish)

#jen watches #dreamworks watch #jen tortures herself with every dreamworks animated movie #the bad guys #dreamworks

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yeowangies · 6 months

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Blood Stains

CHAPTER XI: In spite of big fears

❧

PAIRING: Raditz/F!Reader RATING: Teen and up CONTENTS: Canon Divergence AU, Slow burn, Smut, Enemies to Lovers. WARNINGS: Canon typical violence, Blood. WORDCOUNT: 5581

Summary:

“I love Raditz. I know he’s done things, terrible things, and we had our arguments about it, you know? But I’ve seen so many sides of him to know there’s more to him than just violence. I don’t expect him to change, but I’ve made peace with his history. It made him who he is, and I love him. I love him on purpose.”

Notes:

After a million years (it's only been like four months) I finally finished this chapter!

It took me so long to be satisfied with it, I wrote, erased, rewrote, moved around, erased and rewrote again so many times.

This is heavy on dialogue, obviously since a lot of issues have to be resolved!

Next chapter is gonna be an epilogue! I already have in mind what I want to write for it, but if anyone has any ideas or suggestions, I'm all ears!

You can check the tag #*bs if you wanna see the previous chapters.

Getting to Kame House never seemed like such a long trip until that very moment. It was a long way there, but whether you like it or not, you have a lot to think about.

Raditz has kissed you repeatedly for no reason. Or well, for reasons that might have been obvious, but you don’t want to conclude anything, especially when you don’t know what he’s planning to do once the Saiyans get here.

Bulma greets you as soon as you get to Kame House while you save your hover car inside a capsule.

“Hey!” You smile at her, and she quickly grabs your arm and tugs you the farthest away from the house. “What are you doing?”

“Listen, I didn’t wanna say anything because I was waiting for you to tell me,” Bulma whispers, just in case someone might listen. “But you never did. I saw the security cameras the day Raditz destroyed my lab.”

“Okay…?”

“Do you really don’t know what I’m talking about?”

You frown, confused. The day Raditz destroyed her lab, what else happened that day?

You remember instantly, and immediately Bulma notices the change in your expression.

“You kissed him! And didn’t tell me!” She practically yells, and you wince when she raises her voice. “Has he been with you all this time?”

“Not exactly.”

“Well? Aren’t you gonna tell me?”

“We weren’t… I thought it was better to keep it a secret. I didn’t think you’d see that…” Very stupid thinking, or lack of thinking on your part, you realize. Of course she was going to check the security cameras.

“So? I’m sure it wasn’t just that one time. No wonder you didn’t visit me as often.”

You smiled despite yourself. You weren’t ready for that kind of conversation, but what was the point of still keeping it a secret then? Of course you don’t want to tell everyone just yet. But Bulma already knew.

“We… spent some time together after that, but it was on and off.”

“‘Spent some time’? Did you sleep with him?”

“Yeah…”

“You don’t sound too happy about it…”

You run a hand down your face, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment before speaking again.

“Raditz stayed at my apartment for a few days, but… he left for God knows where, and came back every once in a while. Technically, we spent less than a month together, I guess.”

“Okay…” Bulma is smart, obviously, and you know she’s seeing right through you at the moment. “You don’t know what he’s gonna do today, do you?”

“No, we avoided the topic, most of the time. It was kind of what we agreed on.”

“How do you feel, then?”

“I honestly have no idea. I didn’t think I would feel like this… Raditz is either going to leave this planet… or he’s going to die, and both options break my heart.” Your voice wavers at the end, and you lower your gaze, trying to hold in your tears.

“I’m sorry, I thought…” Bulma runs a hand up and down your back.

“I know…”

“We don’t know what’s gonna happen, so calm down, ok? Goku is gonna get here soon.” Bulma reassures you, patting your head.

You nod, at a loss of words.

Verbalizing what you were afraid of doesn’t make you feel better at all, and now you're more on the verge of tears than before. You know that Raditz likes being with you, even when he hasn’t said it, but you doubt that would change anything. His over 30 years of existence can’t be compared to whatever relationship he’s been having with you for less than a year.

It’s ironic how certain you feel about that conclusion when you know those days you spent with Raditz had inevitably changed your life. You can feel it in your bones, no matter the outcome of this day, you’ll be spending the rest of your life getting over him.

Everything is a blur the whole time you’re at Kame House, and you wonder if it would be better or worse if you could actually see what the hell is happening. You even wonder if you could actually sleep this day off, and wake up when it’s all over.

Hours later, you drag your feet to hop on the aircraft to get where the battle has taken place as anxiety eats your insides, and you try to tone out everyone’s voice (and you really understand Chichi’s desperation to get there as quickly as possible, but she was being really loud and that just puts you more on edge). Getting off the aircraft is easier after Chichi practically throws herself out there to look for Gohan once they land. You follow suit, landing your eyes on Goku, completely beat up and bleeding, but conscious. A little relieved, you look at Krillin briefly, noticing that he’s in a slightly better shape, before glancing around, trying to find Raditz. If he’s there at all.

Krillin notices your trepidation, and calls your name, making you look at him.

“That other Saiyan, Raditz, he helped us…” He smiles at you, before pointing towards his side. “He’s over there, alive but barely…”

Before you even know it, you run towards the place Krillin pointed to, and immediately spot him.

“Raditz!”

He’s looking at you through hooded lids, perplexed, when you kneel beside him. Your heart beats inhumanely fast as you eye him up and down, horrified to see him completely covered in blood and bruises, but absolutely glad he’s alive.

“You told me you wouldn’t come here…” Raditz grumbles with a hoarse voice as you lean over him.

“I guess I lied.”

Blood is flowing from many different places all over his body that you can’t even see where the wounds are, he might as well be bleeding from every pore. Sliding one hand down his cheek and into his scalp, your vision gets blurry when you feel hot thick liquid running through your fingers.

How many nights did you spend with your hands up in his hair? Seeing them now soaked in his blood as you thread them through his hair only fills you with panic.

“Why are you crying?” Raditz asks, looking at you curiously. You didn’t even notice that you were until he said it, feeling your face completely drenched.

“Why am I crying?” You hiccup, smiling sourly at the ironic question. “Have you seen yourself?”

“I’ve gotten out of worse situations…” He smirks, coughing up blood before going on. “This is nothing.”

“Have you?”

You try to comfort him with your touch, keeping your hands in his hair and softly caressing his scalp, no matter that you’re getting covered in his blood in the process. Your eyes scan over his body once more, though you’re not sure why, before landing your gaze back on his. You stare at him with so many emotions bubbling up in your chest at once, and you know he must be seeing them all, even through all your tears.

“You’ve been keeping secrets from me.” Raditz utters, his gaze fixed on yours. You snort, amused that he can see right through you.

“And you? What did you do? Why did you…?”

You trail off when a shaky hand slides up your cheek, wiping away a few tears with his thumb.

It’s a simple gesture that fills your entire chest with a certain kind of warmness that you would have never expected, not in that moment. Especially because of Raditz.

Maybe you both have been too naive.

Leaning down with your hands cupping his face, you kiss him sweetly, trying to convey how relieved and happy you are that he’s alive. Raditz returns it, skimming his hand into your hair to keep you close.

“I’m getting blood all over you…” He murmurs against your lips.

“I don’t care.”

“I’ll stain you…” His hand in your hair drops.

“Then you’ll stain me.”

You kiss him briefly again before pulling away, just as you hear Bulma crying some feet away. You turn in her direction, confused.

Why is she crying? You know some of the guys have passed, but you can still use the Dragon Balls. If Yamcha has died, they can still bring him back.

But only if Piccolo is still alive…

“Did all our friends… Did they die?” You ask Raditz quietly, when you realize what the situation might be.

He only looks at you and nods meekly, and you couldn’t help your tears as they flow out of your eyes once more.

“I’m sorry.” Raditz mutters softly, to your surprise.

“You’re sorry?” You ask, flabbergasted. He snorts with a smirk, entertained by your reaction. You sigh, showing him a small smile. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Raditz stares at you with soft eyes for a few seconds before he closes them, and you panic once he passes out.

There’s too much light in the room when Raditz wakes up, to the point where he thinks that place must be heaven, because everything in the room is just white and light blue, and the bed he’s on is soft and warm.

That is until he feels a sharp pain all over his body.

Groaning, Raditz tries to move all his limbs and fingers, but only ends up making the pain much worse. He notices his entire body is bandaged, and his right arm is wrapped in a cast. The room he’s in reminds him a lot more of the room he used to stay when he got injured after his fight with Goku and Piccolo, but he knows it’s not the same place.

He attempts several times to actually get up to find out where the hell is that place until you walk into the room.

“You’re finally awake!” You smile, before scowling at him. “Are you trying to get up?”

Raditz tries to ignore the way his heart beats enthusiastically in his chest when he sees you. It’s going to take a while to get used to that, for better or for worse.

“I want to know where the fuck I am.” He retorts with no real contempt.

“Again with that attitude.” You sigh, rolling your eyes. “If I recall, last time I had to trick you into saying ‘please’.”

“You’re a manipulative woman.” Raditz smirks when you walk over, sitting on his bed.

“Excuse me?”

Your arched eyebrow and your eyes wide open amuse him to no end, making you roll your eyes when he chuckles.

“Are you going to tell me where I am?”

“In a hospital, dufus, I’m not trying to trick you this time.”

“A hospital?” Raditz asks, confused.

“It’s where sick people get treated.”

“I know what a hospital is. Why didn’t you bring me here the first time?”

“You were a menace to society then.”

“And you think I’m not anymore?” It’s his turn to quirk an eyebrow.

You show him a knowing smile, before looking down at him.

Raditz knows he’s not as dangerous as you thought he was back then. Though you were never even afraid of him to begin with. He’s fine with that.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Raditz winces when he tries to move again. His body hurts from the beating he took from Vegeta, but he’s also somehow exhausted from laying down.

“I figured.” You smile, putting your hand on his shoulder. “Try not to move too much.”

“I can’t even if I want to, can I?”

“Well you blasted a hole in the wall last time you tried to leave while you were injured, remember?”

Raditz laughed quietly, before groaning in pain. Fuck, he’s in terrible shape.

“You have a few ribs broken.” You explain, looking out the window by the bed. “And you lost a lot of blood. The doctors were a bit shocked when they tried to do a transfusion and I told them you might not have a blood type like we do. They probably passed out when they found out I was telling the truth.”

He only understood what you were saying partially. Blood type? Humans don’t have the same kind of blood? He lets it go, not really caring enough to ask you about it.

“What happened to Kakarot?” Raditz asks, keeping his eyes on you when you turn to face him.

“He’s ok. He has as many broken bones as you do, but he’s been conscious for days now. He didn’t lose as much blood as you did, so he’s slightly better. It’s gonna take like four months for you to heal, so take it easy, okay?”

“Four months?!”

Raditz groans exasperatedly and throws his head against the pillow, grunting in pain when he feels a sharp pain up his spine. Fuck this place. He misses the technology in Frieza’s army.

“I told you not to move too much.” You try to contain your smile.

He glares at you. It’s not like he’s going to leave. He doesn’t even want to, but taking so long to heal is going to be a pain in the ass.

“Don’t worry, you probably won’t take so long to get better.” You grin reassuringly. “They’re not ready yet, but we have some magic beans here that will heal you in no time.”

“Magic beans?”

“Yeah, you get instantly better when you eat them.”

Raditz’ eyebrow twitches instantly.

“And why didn’t you get me one of those when I was on the verge of dying a year ago?”

“You were the enemy, I couldn’t! I didn’t know what you were gonna do!”

“What other things have you been keeping from me?” He looks at you with curiosity.

He doesn’t resent you for not telling him about things you thought were important; he does feel a little stupid for not realizing the amount of information you actually had, though it never would have occurred to him that something like ‘magic beans’ existed.

“Well, I don’t know… I wasn’t doing it on purpose.” When he raises one brow, you roll your eyes. “Okay, maybe I was hiding some things on purpose, but what about you, mister?”

“What about me?”

“You were obviously not telling me anything.”

“About what?”

“Anything, everything! Like, what did you even do when you weren’t at my place?”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Raditz smiles, amused. That time you got upset when he mentioned he slept with another woman came to mind, and while he obviously hasn’t slept with anyone else since then, he felt the need to reassure you. “I didn’t fucked anyone else.”

“That’s not what I meant!” You blushed slightly, shaking your head.

He tries to move his arms, or at least one arm, to pull you down and kiss you, but he only ends up grunting, feeling a pungent pain through his muscles. Your blush fades quickly and you snicker at the sight, earning a playful glare from him.

“I told you not to move.” You quip.

“It was just that one time that I had sex with someone else.” Raditz says without provocation.

“We already talked about this, you don’t have to explain-”

“You brought it up.”

“I didn’t!”

“I didn’t even sleep with her.”

“What?” You frown, not following.

“We just had sex.”

“…What do you mean?” You frown deeper as you raise your voice. “Do not give me details, or I swear to God.”

“It’s exactly like I said.” Raditz huffs, trying not to smile at your reaction. “We just had sex.”

“In the middle of nowhere?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened afterwards?”

“Nothing. I finished and left her there.”

Raditz frowns when he sees the expression on your face transforming into what can only be anger, but he doesn’t know why you’re mad this time.

“You left her there? Just like that? Raditz!” You yell, making him jolt instantly, pain pulsing through his muscles.

“What was I supposed to do?” He asks, confused.

“Not throw her away like a used ragdoll! This angers me more than you sleeping with her to begin with!”

“Wh-What?!” His body is in pain from tensing up after your outburst, but Raditz is just perplexed. What should he have done then?

“You’re not supposed to treat women like that!”

“What are you talking about?” Raditz asks loudly. “I’m not going to fuck anyone else, so why are you even telling me this?!”

Your expression softens considerably, and it takes him a few seconds to realize that reassuring you of the fact that he only is interested in you is what you need. When your cheeks flush faintly, he smirks triumphantly.

“Okay…” You smile softly, and Raditz isn’t prepared for the warmth he feels in his chest. At least he’s in the hospital if it ends up being a disease or something. “Was that something you were hiding too?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you said to let you know when our arrangement would be over… But now, it sounds like you don’t want it to end.”

“I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.”

“Oh…”

“No.” Raditz says as soon as he notices the sad gleam in your eyes. “I wasn’t thinking because… I was enjoying our time together. And I was sure I could stop seeing you at any moment. I was being an idiot.”

“Maybe we both were.” Your smile is on your face again, though he still sees a little sorrow in it. “I thought we could keep it simple, you know? We really should have talked in depth about this.”

“Because the last time we talked about ‘our feelings’ it ended so well.” He jests, rolling his eyes.

“Come on!” You nudge his side with your hand gently, making him grin. “All the more reason to talk, don’t you think? We have been keeping a lot of things from each other.”

“You more than anyone.” Raditz remarks with playful annoyance.

“Honestly, baby, who’s counting?” You return his playful smile, and he knows whatever might have happened between the two of you isn’t a threat to the relationship you had. Whatever that relationship is.

He’s been wanting to kiss you since you walked into the room, but he doesn’t have the ability to move any limbs at the moment and it never frustrated him so much to be immobilized. With a brief second of looking into each other’s eyes, you seemingly read his mind, though, and shifted on the bed to lean down and kiss him.

Does that warm feeling in his chest whenever he sees you come with telepathic powers?

You sweetly press your lips to his, softly moving them, and Raditz feels like it’s been ages since he had a taste of you. He wants more, so much more than just a simple peck on the lips, but there’s nothing he can do once you pull away, cupping his face in your hands and leaning your forehead over his.

“Raditz…”

He notices the shift in your tone as you speak.

Raditz still doesn’t fully grasp how many emotions humans even have (apparently Saiyans are capable of them, but he’s been exposed to anger, hatred and violence all his life that he doesn’t recognize them when he feels differently). You seem sad, maybe it was because your friends have died.

He recalled the moment when he was laying on the dirt after Vegeta took off, and you were looking down at him, eyes filled with tears. He didn’t know how, but he perfectly recognized the gleam in them then.

Affection. It was even dripping from your tears as you cried, like you couldn’t contain them. You are wearing a similar gleam just now, as you look at him carefully.

“I don’t know what I would have done…” You whisper, so quiet for only Raditz to hear. “If you had…”

You trail off, leaving the words hanging in the air. The emotion in your voice, he understands that too; fear, embarrassment and nervousness.

“Hopefully use those Dragon Balls.” Raditz replies wittily, making you snort.

“If Piccolo died, then…” Your voice is still somber, even with the soft look you’re giving him. “We can’t use the Dragon Balls…”

“Those things have too many rules to function.” He frowns, perplexed. “Was that another thing you forgot to mention about them?”

“Well actually, I did forget. I wasn’t thinking about that detail.”

“So you can’t bring back any of your friends.”

“No, but we have a plan.” You smile widely, pulling away from him as you sit back.

“A plan?”

Raditz listens to you carefully as you explain that Bulma, Krillin and Gohan are set to go to Namek in just a couple of days, to find the Dragon Balls that supposedly exist on that planet. He sweats slightly while you speak; the planet Namek is a peaceful place, without any significant threat. But he knows that Frieza sometimes liked to listen in on the conversation his soldiers have through the scooters. There’s a chance he might know about the Dragon Balls and Namek if he heard Vegeta talking about it.

“You’re not going to go, are you?” He asks first and foremost. He’s in no condition to go himself, but if you decide to go then he would have no other choice.

“Of course not, I wouldn’t be of any help.” You snort, amused.

Raditz lets out a sigh he didn’t know was holding in.

“Namek is not a dangerous planet, its inhabitants are peaceful and weak. There shouldn’t be any problem…”

“But?” You ask, noticing the uncomfortable look on his face.

“Saiyans are not the strongest race. I was lying about that.” Raditz states, looking into your eyes. “Tell your friends to be careful. Vegeta might show up looking for those things too.”

“I’ll tell them to be alert.” You nod, completely serious. He’s satisfied with your answer so he doesn’t talk about the matter anymore.

He has nothing to worry about if you’re not going on that trip, and he can’t wait to heal so he can actually grab you and press you closer. Apparently whatever emotion is coursing through his veins made him completely attached to you. It’s a literal pain not being able to pull you down for a kiss.

Your eyes are on him with a warm look on them, and the more you stare, the more he feels like something is bubbling up inside him.

“Sit on my face.” Raditz says out of the blue. He watches with amusement as your face goes from surprise to confusion to embarrassment in less than a second.

“What?”

“Sit on my face.” He repeats, smirk growing wider when he notices the faint blush on your cheeks. “I can’t do much in this situation, but I know damn well what I’m good at.”

Raditz licks his lips in anticipation, looking at you with a lecherous glimmer that only makes you blush harder. It’s still fun to tease you that way, but he’s truly desperate to taste you again after so long. After all, he was in a coma for days.

“I’m not doing that.” You glare playfully, crushing his dreams. “This is a hospital, and I don’t know if you noticed but you’re bedridden until further notice.”

“I can still move my tongue and that should be enough.”

When you laugh, it’s like music to his ears, and even then he couldn’t help but grin.

“Not this time, handsome. I’ll sit on your face all you want some other time.”

Raditz grunts, annoyed, but he’s rewarded with a kiss on his lips.

It’s the kiss he’s been wanting since you walked in there, or maybe even long before that. Sliding your tongues together, gliding your lips slowly and sensually, and he hates that he can’t even cup your face or wrap his arms around you. You sneak one hand into his hair, caressing his scalp, and a low purr rumbles from his chest.

He’s really fucked.

You break the kiss sooner than Raditz expects when the door suddenly opens.

“Who are you?” Raditz asks with contempt when a man dressed in white walks in.

“I’m your doctor.” The man answers with a stern tone, glaring at the both of you. “And this isn’t a hotel.”

“Sorry, doc, I was just happy he was awake.” You reply naturally.

“You’re his wife, right?”

“She’s my mate.” Raditz replies before you can even open your mouth.

He hasn’t thought it through when those words escaped his lips, but you’re looking at him with a wide smile so he doesn’t regret it at all.

The doctor looks at the both of you with confusion so you speak, still smiling and looking at Raditz with affection in your eyes.

“I’m his girlfriend.”

You recall everything that happened in the past year as you walk to the room Goku was staying at.

Raditz’s heel-face turn was surprising; you didn’t expect him to be influenced by anything, especially you. If anything, you were ready for the most gruesome outcome after Goku arrived. No one told you exactly what happened during the battle, but you don’t really need to know more; Krillin had said that Raditz helped and that was more than enough for you.

As you approach the room, you see Chichi coming out alone.

Maybe it was time to apologize to her. Bulma wasn’t wrong months ago when she said you also didn’t try to reach out after Goku died and Gohan was taken, and while you weren’t the only one responsible, you were still involved.

“Chichi.” You call for her and the moment she looks at you, her expression hardens. “Chichi, I’m sorry.”

“For what, exactly?” She only gives you a moment to open your mouth but doesn’t let you speak. “For not telling me that my husband had died? For saving the monster that killed him? For letting my son be kidnapped?”

“Um, all that, but if you would hear me out-”

“I don’t need to, I already know everything. And this is not the place to talk about this.” Chichi coldly cut you off before you could add anything else, walking right past you. “Goodnight.”

Your shoulders droop as you watch her leave, sighing loudly. Maybe eventually, she’ll listen.

Knocking on Goku’s door before stepping in, you smile at the sight of him, still amused that he looks like a mummy, trapped in a sarcophagus. He returns the smile, calling your name as you take the seat next to him.

“You still look so funny.” You comment, giggling like a little girl.

“It’s not as fun as it looks like.” Goku replies, pouting. He seems like a child at that moment as well, and it warms your heart.

It would be the first time you actually talk to him, one on one, since he died. And even before that, it was years ago. You haven’t realized how much you missed him until now.

“I’m still happy you’re okay.” You smile gently. Goku blinks before returning the gesture.

“I heard you’re the reason Raditz helped us during the fight.”

“You heard?”

“Okay, I kinda saw it.” Goku admits with a knowing grin.

“That sounds even weirder.” You laugh, but he only shrugs, as if it was the most obvious thing.

“When Vegeta threatened to destroy this planet, the look on Raditz’s face kinda spoke for itself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m no mind reader, but he looked scared. And he jumped back on the battle and took our side and helped us in the blink of an eye.” He waits for your reaction, but your blank expression prompts him to go on. “I figured you might have something to do with his change of heart?”

“Why do you think that?”

“I saw you kissing. I wasn’t unconscious, you know?”

“Oh…” You blush slightly, but the smile on your face only gets wider, just like Goku’s grin does.

“So, you two are together, huh?”

“We are. Sometimes this still feels surreal.”

“What do you mean?” Goku asks, confused.

“That Raditz chose to stay. I thought he might end up leaving this planet, or that he’d die. I’m so happy that wasn’t the case.”

Goku looks at you with soft eyes. He might not be the brightest of the bunch, or at least that’s what everyone thinks about him, but he understands people’s feelings more than anyone else, and at that moment, he’s looking at you like he knows all the fear and trepidation you had been going through the past twelve months.

“But he stayed.” He says, reassuringly.

“Yeah, and I’m so grateful.”

“Do you love him?” Goku asks, to your own surprise. That softness is still in his eyes, and you can’t help the warmth that spreads through your chest when you answer his question.

“I do. I love Raditz. I know he’s done things, terrible things, and we had our arguments about it, you know? But I’ve seen so many sides of him to know there’s more to him than just violence. I don’t expect him to change, but I’ve made peace with his history. It made him who he is, and I love him. I love him on purpose.”

Your face is hot, not because you’re embarrassed, but you assume the way your heart is currently beating has something to do with it. Confessing out loud that, in spite of deep fears, you were unequivocally in love with Raditz made your blood run faster. Goku is grinning, completely pleased with your answer, and amused that you’re blushing.

“I guess he’s staying on Earth, then.”

“I suppose so.”

“Chichi aint gonna be happy about it.” Goku chuckles, but you only smile for a second.

“About that, I’m sorry I didn’t talk to her…” You say, this time truly ashamed.

“Whaddaya mean?”

“About what happened when you died…”

You are not sure how much Goku knows about the situation, but you know you have to apologize for almost all of it. Not talking to Chichi in time, letting his son be kidnapped (even when there wasn’t much any of you could do). You had been too wrapped in your own bubble to think about it but in retrospect, you feel terrible.

“Chichi only found out about your death and Gohan’s kidnapping over 24 hours after it happened. I’m sorry.”

Goku blinks, and you wonder if he even knows what you’re talking about. His subsequent smile is your answer.

“You’re the first one who apologized about it.”

“Really?” You ask, taken aback.

“Krillin kinda did but not really. He only said sorry because he was scared of Chichi.”

You facepalm, in disbelief his best friend would be so vague and kind of a dick when talking about Goku’s wife.

“I assume Bulma did not even mention it?” You ask, ready to be annoyed.

“She didn’t, she sounded more mad about Chichi than anything else? I didn’t get it.”

You roll your eyes. Bulma is resentful for a woman who has everything and anything she wants at the reach of her hand.

“She was mad that I didn't invite her to the wedding.” Goku adds.

“I know.” You sigh, exasperated.

“Why? Back then, I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“You think it is now?”

“Well…” Goku fixed his eyes on the ceiling, thinking for a second before answering. “I didn’t really know what the big deal about marriage was. I never even went to a wedding! When Chichi asked me if I wanted to invite you guys, I said no because we only saw each other for training and adventures and stuff.”

That reasoning sounds so much like him that you didn’t have it in you to be even a little mad. Of course, you were never too upset about it as Bulma was.

“Bulma is still a little childish.” You comment, but Goku only shrugs.

“I didn’t think she’d be mad about it. I guess I could have invited you all for the wedding, since it was a big deal after all. I wouldn’t have gotten to know Chichi, and Gohan wouldn’t even exist.”

So Goku loves Chichi.

It should have been obvious. The way he talked about her, as Goku-like as that was, and the way you noticed how he looked at her. They only married because of a promise they made as kids, you wouldn’t have expected them to actually get to know each other and fall in love. You should’ve known.

“Goku, I can’t say I wasn’t childish back then,” You start, and he turns to look at you with quizzical eyes. “But it’s been a while, and honestly it’s cute you found someone you decided to spend the rest of your life with, even if it was just a promise. I know you love her after all these years.”

“I do.” Goku grins. “She’s great! She’s patient with me about a lot of things I don’t get, and she’s real sweet. She’s cute when she gets mad, too.”

You chuckle. Is it a Saiyan thing to like women with a little attitude?

“Hopefully she’ll warm up to me. We’re family after all, now.”

“We are?” Goku questions, brows furrowed.

“Well yeah. I’m dating your brother, we’re in laws now.”

“Huh.” He thinks about it for a second before smiling. “That sounds fun. Maybe Raditz won’t be so bad, either.”

“Give him a chance. You did say he helped save the Earth and all.”

“It’d be cool to spar with him! I know I can beat him!”

You smile, excited to see how this new period of your life will be like.

#dbz fics #dbz imagine #dbz fanfiction #raditz x reader #raditz x you #dbz #raditz #my writing #*bs

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