#i don't know if it makes the situation better because the team would be looking into why hes sick
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I need everyone to know that speedsters are allergic to nanobots.
No, seriously. They're allergic to nanobots.
Speedsters have absolutely insane metabolisms, which means that they have an absolutely insane immune system. They don't get sick. Ever. Their immune system works at warp speed and takes out germs the second they enter their body. Call germs 'the Rogues' because they're getting tackled by super speedy blurs before they can even think about causing issues.
Okay, so they have a great immune system and don't get sick ever. What does this have to do with nanobots?
Great question! When nanobots are injected into a speedster's body their immune system sees them as a threat. Only problem? It doesn't matter how fast or efficient their immune system is, their body can't destroy a bunch of tiny metal robots.
Because their bodies can't fight off the nanobots they start to display typical cold/flu symptoms instead. Vomiting, fever, runny nose, coughing, being tired, ect. The nanobots aren't causing this reaction. Their own immune system causes this reaction. The fever is the bodies attempt to kill off the 'germs'. The vomiting, runny nose and coughing is the body's attempt to expel the 'germs'. They feel tired because their body is putting everything into fighting off the 'infection'.
In a normal person the nanobots wouldn't even be an issue because they'd be able to avoid detection. They can't avoid detection in a speedster body because their immune systems are dialled up to 500 out of 10.
As a result you get instances like this:
(Inertia had injected Bart with nanobots and Bart had a reaction)
Just an FYI for people because this is extremely fun and versatile information. Especially because none of the speedsters are really aware of this and it doesn't kick in right away. I could totally see a situation where a mission requires nanobot injections and mid mission the speedster goes down out of nowhere. It's also great if you want to do a stereotypical sick fic or something and want to get around that pesky speedster immunity.
Anyway, it's fun information so I thought I'd share
#anyone watch that episode of TT where all the titans are injected with nanobots that'll kill them if robin doesn't work with slade?#and everyone is all 'WHY HAS ROBIN BETRAYED US?!?'#anyway im just saying that if Wally was there he would be on the ground delirious and vomiting#which#i don't know if it makes the situation better because the team would be looking into why hes sick#or if it makes it worse because wallys out of commission#but its 10/10 either way#i just want a yj mission where tims like 'hey we are going to space so here are gps nanobots'#and then like three hours later Bart is burning up delirious and vomiting#and tim (who knows that speedsters ONLY show symptoms of sickness if they have the plague or have been poisoned or something) FREAKS OUT#throws him into quarantine. stops the mission. gets an emergency surgery room ready. has doctors on the line.#Kon goes into quarantine with him cause hes 'AN ALIEN AND CAN'T GET SICK FUCK YOU TIM'#meanwhile hes like#completely fine#he just has flu symptoms#dc#dc comics#the flash#impulse#kid flash#wally west#bart allen#barry allen#speedsters
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I can’t stop thinking about being a suspect in a case and being interviewed by Hotch 😭 like being so nervous and him taking it as like “??? are you even gonna try hiding it??” and you’re not gonna be honest and be like “i’m not nervous because i’m guilty i’m nervous BC YOURE A HOT OLD MAN” because this is a serious case and serious situation so it’s just Hotch trying to coax it out of you, you being all flustered looking suspicious but actually like needy for this man, and the team who caught on like “oh wait no. shes just attracted to him. why do we have hot people on the team?”
SSA Hotchner's scrutinizing gaze studies your weak posture, your fidgeting fingers, your spotty eye contact, and he muses, "You're not very good at controlling your body language."
"What?" You look at him, eyes wide and round and full of nerves. You've never been questioned before, not even by a low level security officer, much less an FBI Agent. You suppose that's making you nervous, yes, but what's really wringing you out is the fact that the one they sent to your interrogation room is just plain hot.
He's gorgeous, all sharp features that are always angled towards you, and dark eyes you'd expect of a criminal, not its captor. His suit is crisp and his voice is low; he's the pinnacle of professionalism and he's making you squirm with his undivided, discerning attention.
"You're nervous," He accuses, and you let out a soft huff in the back of your throat.
Who wouldn't be?
"You're fidgeting, you can't look me in the eyes, you lean away from me," He lists, leaning forwards in his chair to watch you repel like a magnet, your back pressing into the metal bars behind you as he proves his point.
"I'd think someone with the criminal expertise to commit six murders without witnesses would have a better handle on their outward appearance."
"I'd think so, too," You manage, not without stammering, "Agent- Agent Hotchner, I- I'm not-"
"You're not guilty? You're the closest thing we have to a suspect," He doesn't let your stuttering deter him, leaning ever-closer until you're flattened against the back of your chair and he's still advancing. He rises from his seat, inching closer and closer as he continues, "You miraculously discovered the body at an odd hour of the night when you had no business being at the scene of the crime, you called it in, you told the police you knew nothing, you're telling me you know nothing, but still," He's inches away from you now, and every nerve in your body is aflame with mortification at the very unhelpful fantasies rushing through your head as he pins you to the chair.
"-You insist on your innocence, but I don't think you're innocent at all. I think you're trying to toy with us, but we don't play games, you won't win. Understand?" His dark eyes bore into your own and you're painfully attracted to them, biting the inside of your cheek to stop from begging him to back away before you lose control and surge forward to kiss him. He refuses to blink, but you're doing it enough for the both of you, lashes rapidly fluttering as you try calming your pounding heart. He watches you for one, two, three, four, five seconds, expecting a hurried confession at any moment, but the door clicks open before you can stammer something humiliating.
"Hotch," It's a dark-haired woman, and god, does the FBI recruit people based on attractiveness? She's stunning and she turns her beautiful eyes on you in sympathy, "Back off, Hotch. She's innocent."
He narrows his eyes at her almost imperceptibly, turning away from you, "You found the unsub?"
"No," She admits, "But it's not her. Okay? I just know."
"You just- Agent Prentiss," Agent Hotchner stands straight, "That's not protocol."
"I know," She gushes, but she strides confidently through the room to ease you upright and out of your chair, "Just- let me handle this, okay? Come on, honey, we'll talk somewhere private."
Agent Hotchner lets her take you away, and he must trust her, even if he's watching her with narrowed eyes. Maybe this is some interrogation tactic, maybe the woman leading you by the shoulder through the precinct is the good cop, and he was the bad one.
She leads you past a cluster of people all leaning against desks or hunching over files, and a slim blonde woman shoots you a knowing smile. What she knows, you're not sure, but you wish so badly that it were comforting.
The woman walking with you leads you straight to the front door, taking your purse from where they'd confiscated it earlier and handing it back to you.
"You're free to go," She smiles at you, eyes nothing but kind, "I'll tell him you proved your innocence."
"But- what," Your fingers are almost too limp to keep your bag in their grip, "I don't understand-"
"I do," She grins, "He's handsome, I get it. He tends to forget that."
Your cheeks sear with flames that you wish would turn you to ash right then and there, so that you could be carried away on the breeze and not have to answer for your embarrassing instincts.
"Don't worry about it," She laughs, clearly sympathetic to your panic, "Trust me, you're not the first person that's squirmed in their seat under the intense gaze of Aaron Hotchner. He's a smart man, but never smart enough to figure out when someone likes him. You're free to go, honey," She repeats, reaching out to squeeze your arm, "And if you ever get dragged into an investigation again - which I hope you don't," She grins, "I wish you a very ugly investigator."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner scenario#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner one-shot#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner headcanons#aaron hotchner headcanon#aaron hotchner hc#aaron hotchner hcs#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner dialogue#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction
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Unleashed - Avengers!Bucky/Fem!Reader
✦ Pairing: Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader
✦ Word count: ~4,2k
✦ Rating: Explicit
✦ Warnings/tags: Sex pollen adjacent kinda, smut, a bit fluffy, one shot, possessive!Bucky, co-workers/friends to lovers, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praise, creampie, pet names (doll).
✦ Summary: During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions and all he wants is you.
✦ Note: Previously posted on AO3 since I have basically no time or energy to write new stuff. It was titled You’re what I need before but I always hated that title so I decided to re-name it. Bucky is kind of an asshole in this, but it's just because he wants you! As always, reblogs, comments, and asks are very welcome ❤️
Masterlist | AO3
The worst part about watching from afar as a mission goes to shit is that you feel useless. Even as you dispatch medics for the team all you can do is tell them, "Help is on the way."
Captain America shouts orders that you hear through the comms. The wait feels endless until the crew of the quinjet declares that they have spotted the team and there's not much else for you to do but look at your monitors and wait for an update. When you get the call back that the team is secure you breathe a sigh of relief, but then the next message is to prepare the medical staff to receive multiple injuries and chemical exposure. You ask the crew to clarify, but they are too busy, so when you notify the medical center, they prepare a quarantine room.
Sometimes you wish you had a superpower and could be there with them instead of staring at your monitors and doing endless calculations on whatever the team needs. But then when they return they always compliment your work and tell you they don’t know how they managed without you. You try to remind yourself of those moments at times like this.
Once the quinjet is docked and everyone has been accounted for you push away from your desk and remove your headset, taking deep breaths and trying to calm your heart. A moment later a message pops up on your screen, probably because they couldn’t reach you through your comms.
[Bucky wants you to come down here]
Your heart does a little flip in your chest, making you scowl. He is your friend and probably injured, you have no idea why he would be asking for you, but it’s not because he feels the same way you do. You grab your tablet and head to the MedBay.
When you get down you take stock of the situation. Nat and Steve have some scratches, Sam's arm is broken and Wanda has a few cracked ribs. Tony is bruised, his suit had taken most of the damage. You look around for Bucky but don’t see him anywhere and quickly deduce that he must be the person currently in quarantine.
When you get to the wing, you’re almost too scared to go in, afraid to see what could have happened to him. Inside, you find a team of medical personnel discussing Bucky's condition with him through a glass wall. His hair looks damp and he's wearing standard-issue quarantine clothing, soft black pants, and a black sweatshirt. When he sees you standing patiently at the side he says.
"You can come back later. I need to talk to her more than I need to talk to you. Go away."
His voice comes from speakers in the ceiling.
You're shocked by his behavior but smile apologetically as the white coats pass you on their way out. When you get up to the glass you hiss.
"Bucky, what is wrong with you, don't be rude.”
"You make it sound like I'm never rude otherwise," he laughs.
"You're not rude to healthcare professionals, you know better."
You glare at him as you wake your tablet.
“Now what did you need me for?”
"Do you like me?" he asks. Your mouth falls open and your heart starts to beat faster. You’re happy your vitals aren’t monitored as you quickly collect yourself and try to deflect his question.
"Of course I like you Bucky, you're my friend."
But now it feels weird to look at him and you find a spot on the wall far behind him to focus on.
"What if I want more than friends?" is his next question and despite your best efforts, hope warms your chest. This is not happening. Of course you toyed with the idea of you and Bucky, he is always sweet to you, and if he has the chance he brings you gifts from the missions. But you’ve told yourself repeatedly that he needs someone stronger, who can keep up with him in the field and you’re not that person.
"Can we have this conversation when you are not high on some HYDRA drug?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from betraying you. They are monitoring everything in the room. And there is a sheet of unbreakable glass in between you both. If you're going to confess your feelings, it won't be like this.
"I'm not high," he huffs. "My mind has never been clearer."
"I still think we should have this conversation later."
"Doll, look at me."
The command in his voice is so strong you don’t think, you snap your eyes to his and they are so blue and soft.
"I will feel the same tomorrow, and the day after, whenever this drug wears off but now is the only time I can't hold my tongue," he explains.
You place your hand on the glass and he does the same on the other side.
"It will be fine Bucky, I promise," you say just as the door opens and Steve walks in, making you pull your hand back to your side. He's showered, in a fresh pair of clothes and he swings his arm over your shoulder.
"Stop hogging her time Bucky, I know for a fact that she also needs to debrief," he smiles but Bucky looks as if he's seeing red.
Through gritted teeth he presses out, "Get your fucking arm off her, punk. She's mine."
You and Steve burst into laughter because it has to be a joke, but then Bucky punches the barrier with his vibranium arm. The glass doesn't crack but both you and Steve stop short and step away in shock.
Steve removes his arm and says, "I'll meet you upstairs." Before quickly heading out.
You turn to Bucky and point at him, anger rising in your chest.
"What is wrong with you? Steve is your friend!"
"That is what it’s like in here every day,” he points to his head.
You're taken aback by his statement and his wide feral eyes. Clearly, whatever he was exposed to had messed with his head and he's not himself.
“Bucky I need to go,” you tell him, and before he can protest you continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You smile feebly at him and are out the door before he can say anything else.
After debriefing and having dinner you go to bed early. Your head is spinning with the day and most of all, Bucky.
It's way past midnight when you wake to the soft closing of your door. Since you always sleep with a night light the soft warm glow reflects off his left arm and leaves no doubt about who has entered your room. You blink at him but before you can ask a question he rasps out, pleading.
"I need you. So bad. Please doll, help me."
He moves closer to your bed.
You quickly remove your covers and get up, glad the giant t-shirt covers you to your thighs, ready to spring into action.
"Anything Bucky, what do you need?"
You stop an arm's length from him, but all he does is reach his hand out to cup your face, letting his thumb stroke your cheek. There is a wild look in his eyes but you keep calm.
"I can't get you what you need if you don't tell me," you whisper, meeting his eyes and watching as his brow furrows.
"I need you. Right now. If I don't get to touch and taste every inch of your body I'm going to lose my mind," he confesses in a low voice.
His words shock you and you hitch a breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You have this great friendship. If things were different you would not have minded taking it to another level, but with the day in mind and the fact that he somehow got out of his containment room you say, "Bucky, you’re not yourself, you need to get back to-”
"Doll,” he interrupts with a hard voice. “For once, I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. The only thing the drug did, I think, was remove my inhibitions. For once I feel free. My mind isn't controlled by HYDRA or by fear that you'll reject me. All I know is that I crave you and I can't be quiet about it anymore.”
"Bucky… I…" your whole body is flushed with warmth from his words and you're not sure how to respond.
"I dreamt about you and couldn't stop myself from going over here. I don't want to hurt you, doll, but I'm not sure this drug will let me leave. All I wanna do is move closer to you.”
You swallow hard as he continues, thumb still stroking your cheek.
“Ask FRIDAY to get Steve, or the Hulk if you want me to leave."
Instead, you step into him, making up your mind in an instant and resting your hands on his chest.
"Stay, I'll be glad to help you with anything you need," you whisper honestly and by the way his eyes widen there was still some doubt in his mind that you would reject him.
Instead of saying anything his vibranium hand grasps your waist and pulls you closer. There is no escaping the smell and size of him and his hands on you got your pussy throbbing for him already.
"I hope you understand what you've agreed to," he whispers, leaning closer. "Once I have you I won't stop, you'll never be rid of me. I'll claim you against every surface of this fucking compound if I need to."
That makes you whimper and press harder against him.
"Fuck you'd like that huh? Are you a kinky little thing? Like getting fucked where people can see you and hear you moan, do you want people to see my hard dick spread you open?"
"Fuck Bucky!" You exclaim and lean your forehead against his chest. Maybe that idea excites you or maybe it is just that the word ‘claim’ sounds so primal.
"You're going to tell me all your little secrets later, doll. But now, I'm going to take what's mine."
And with that, he crushes his lips to yours. He backs you towards the bed, kissing you the whole time, letting his hands explore you.
When you land on your back, he stands over you with eyes like a predator about to devour its prey.
You shuffle up until your head rests on the pillows, spreading your legs for him. Without taking off any clothes he crawls after you, settling on his knees between your legs and placing his hands on the headboard, crowding you with his large frame.
"Mine," he whispers and it makes a shudder pass through you. He ruts his clothed cock against your core, slicking your underwear even more and making you whine, gripping the sheets under you.
"Yes," he almost hisses as the length of his dick presses on your clit and forces a mewl out of you. It's been a long time since you've gotten laid.
"Bucky," you plead.
"No doll, I'm going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you, from the outside in. Did you think this would be hard and fast and that I would be gone before you knew what happened?"
He lets go of the headboard to put his elbows beside your head instead, his weight on you, pressing you down into the mattress.
"When I leave you will long for me, spend every waking second wishing I was still inside you. I want your cunt to be permanently drenched so I can fuck you whenever I please."
He kisses you forcefully and any coherent thought that was left in your head flees.
"And when you're too sore to take more of my dick in your pussy I'm going to do the same thing to your mouth and ass."
He rids you off your t-shirt and instead of having to move from between your legs to pull off your underwear, he rips them apart.
"Ah!" you exclaim when the force of his movements jolts you but he takes no notice, he just stares at you, letting his hands roam up and down your sides, up to your tits, cupping them and caressing your nipples with his thumbs.
Whimpers are coming from you with every pass of this touch. Then he moves down and lays on his stomach, not saying a word as he sweeps his tongue over your pussy before he starts devouring you with a throaty moan.
It doesn’t take long for the first orgasm to take you, his movements are precise and his words and actions have made you hornier than you’ve ever experienced. Or maybe it's because he is the hottest person you’ve ever laid eyes on and he only wants you.
When you’re finished and sensitive he dips his tongue into your hole to taste you and groans loudly, lapping up the wetness from your orgasm.
"Better than I've dreamed of," he says when he pulls away.
Now you’re the one that must be high because you can't help but giggle.
"You seriously dream of me?"
"All the time, doll. Every night when I go to bed I wish you were with me and then you plague my sleep with your soft curves and radiant smile."
You're about to tell him how his laugh makes you warm and fuzzy on the inside but at that moment he sucks your clit into his mouth, cutting out every thought in your brain. He's gentle but not hesitant, it's as if he's feeling you out and when you make a particularly loud sound he continues the same movement, making your whole body go hot.
The second orgasm is intense enough to send aftershocks through for a long while afterward. Bucky lays his head on your thigh as you tremble, caressing your skin and letting the fingers of his right hand skim over your opening.
Despite what he's already given you, you still crave more. His fingertips never come close to where you need them and when you whine at the back of your throat Bucky smiles up at you.
"Don't worry, I'm not even close to done with you, but I don't want you to pass out on me.”
One of his fingers glides inside, making you take a sharp breath just because it feels so good. Once again he is careful, moving slowly, listening to your breath and your body.
"Please Bucky, I need more.”
"No need to beg, I'll give you everything you want… in time," he breathes and kisses the skin on the inside of your thigh. Slowly he moves his finger in and out. You're sure it's a form of torture. The sweetest kind there is. Your breathing is labored and when he finally adds a second, you start to quiver.
He nips at your skin and then kisses it before speaking.
"You look like a goddess, doll, eyes filled with lust, your skin is gleaming. I'm going to worship you until you're tired of me.”
"Never gonna happen," you whimper. Then his thumb lands on your clit, making you cry out. Everything is so sensitive and overstimulated.
"I don't- Bucky, I don't think I can again," you tell him even though his touches are causing your insides to melt.
"Yes, you will," his voice is soft but the command is clear. So instead of trying to speak again, you sink further into the madness that is him playing with you. The third one takes its sweet time but you never feel rushed or stressed that it's taking too long. Bucky isn’t in a hurry.
Then it’s suddenly there, crashing through you.
"Fuck Bucky, fuck you're gonna make me come."
"So good for me, let me feel you come on my fingers," he urges. "I'm going to lick them clean afterward so make sure you get them nice and wet for me. I want as much as you'll give me."
The climax reaches its peak and you come with a cry of his name, body convulsing and your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair.
"Just like that doll," he smiles up at you and holds your gaze when he pulls out his fingers and sucks them clean, moaning while he does. It's a filthy sound, but it turns you on as if he didn't just make you come for the third time. Then he dives in between your legs again, licking at your skin and your soaked hole.
Letting go of his hair all you can do is just lie there, writhing, as he somehow coaxes a fourth orgasm out of you.
“Fuck me,” you plead when he pulls back. “I need you inside me Bucky.”
This time he takes pity on you and moves away to take off his clothes. When he’s naked he kneels between your legs again and you spread them as wide as you can.
"Want me, doll?" he asks with a smirk.
He swipes his cock through your mess and then uses his hand to coat himself with you.
"Yes," is all you can say. Both you and Bucky stare as he pushes his dick into you, filling you up completely. Of course, he takes it torturously slow this time too.
"This feels better than any dream I've ever had," he whispers almost in awe. You grip his biceps and arch into him, pushing him deeper, faster. That makes him tsk but smiles at the same time as he pushes the rest of the way, finally seating himself. Without giving you a chance to relax he starts fucking you, his cock pushes perfectly against your insides, pulling sounds from you that you haven't made in years.
He sits back on his heels lifting your ass effortlessly until your weight is resting on your shoulders and neck. It's like he is in a trance, pulling you onto his cock over and over again. Your body is his, your mind has fled, and all you see and feel is just him all around you. His eyes keep changing between his dick filling your cunt, your bouncing tits, and your half-lit eyes as if he is not sure where to look.
"Mine," he rasps and thrusts hard to empathize the word. "All mine. Say it."
It takes some time for your brain to connect to your mouth and form the words but his gaze never leaves you.
"Yours," you whimper. "I'm yours, Bucky."
There is a familiar heat low in your belly that's steadily spreading through your limbs. It makes you wiggle and move because it's overwhelming. He is overwhelming in the best sense.
Whining you reach down to rub yourself but he slaps your hand away.
"I thought I told you, it's mine. I own this cunt. If you wanna touch yourself you have to ask permission." It's as close to a growl as is humanly possible and you don't understand how he can be so cognizant right now, because your brain is like putty.
"Can I please rub my clit Bucky, I wanna come on your cock so bad," you cry.
"Good girl," he praises, and when he calls you that, your mouth falls open with a keening sound, gripping the sheets even harder, pulling at them because you want to come so bad.
"Do it, show me how you get off when you're alone in bed without me."
Everything is slippery and sensitive when you start with your fingers and you immediately know it's going to go fast. With his previous words in mind, you ask.
"Can I come?"
He meets your eyes with a wicked smile.
"Fast learner. Yeah, you can come… when I tell you."
You rip your hand away, afraid you might fall over the edge at any second. The sound out of your throat is almost a sob.
"Don't be like that, doll, I thought you said you couldn't do it more times?"
"I can-I can! As many times as you want just please let me come."
"Fuck, I like it when you beg with my cock in you."
But he doesn't say anything else, just continues fucking you. He's not even winded while you're straining your entire body. Your hand wants to move back, anything to relieve the pressure inside you but Bucky was very clear and you don’t want to disobey him.
Then he pulls out and drops you onto the bed, but you don't get to relax because he flips you onto your stomach and pushes one of your knees up to the side before he presses in.
His dick hits your G-spot dead on and you scream into the pillow under you. Bucky chuckles right by your ear.
"Guess I found it."
He's merciless, his hips hit your ass hard and if it weren't for his weight pressing you down you would soon hit the headboard.
"Bucky!" you wail because it's too much. You're losing the last pieces of your mind to the sheer force of the pleasure and you're scared you're never going to be able to come back to yourself. Then his hand presses in between you and the mattress.
"Rub yourself on my fingers, make yourself cum. Fuck my cock and come all over me doll."
You brace yourself as best you can and move your hips as he keeps almost completely still, just shallow thrusts in stark comparison to what he was doing to you just moments ago.
His fingers slide along your clit, his cock brushing your G-spot over and over again. You're breathless, sweat breaking out along your skin, but the climax you're chasing will be well worth it. You just know it.
"I can't fill you up until I’ve felt you come around me," he grunts, his voice tight with holding back. You whimper, the feeling of fire flushing your whole body, and building up to an eruption like no other.
"Yes, yes, yes," he chants low in your ear.
"That's it, come for me, make me proud. Fuck it feels so good." And he starts moving again "I'm going to fill you fucking full of my cum. That's it!"
The heat in you breaks and you come with a shout of his name, shaking under him. It gets even more intense when Bucky finishes right behind you, groaning your name. He collapses on top of you but his hips are still moving, slowly, as if he doesn’t want it to ever end. Neither would you but your body is wrecked.
When he finally rolls off, you're so close to falling asleep, but he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom.
"Pee." He points and you want to tell him that you know the drill, this isn't your first time, but all that comes out is a grumble before he closes the door behind him and you sit down on the toilet.
When you're done, you stumble out and have a moment of panic, thinking he left. But then the door opens and Bucky returns with two bottles of water, handing you one before leading you to the bed and sitting you down on the edge. Gratefully you drink and lean against his shoulder before asking.
"How do you feel?"
"Better than I have in a long time," he answers, kissing your forehead.
You chuckle.
"Yeah I have a magical pussy, it can cure anything," you joke and it makes him laugh.
"You should get back to quarantine," you comment. "Before anyone notices."
He shakes his head. "No I'm staying here, I'm never leaving you again."
He takes the bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table together with his own. Then he crawls beneath the sheets and you go after him, letting him envelop you in a tight embrace before you fall asleep.
Alarms blare and you wake with a start.
"FRIDAY what's going on?" you ask out into the room.
“Sergeant Barnes has escaped his confinement.” The voice echoes through the room.
You sigh and glare at Bucky grumbling beside you, like the loud signal is just a regular alarm clock.
"FRIDAY please inform the team that Bucky is here and everything is fine."
A second later the sound dies and with a sigh you get up to pull on yesterday's discarded t-shirt and find a pair of pants. Right when you're done there is a knock on the door and Steve asks, "Everything okay in there?"
You open the door enough to show yourself.
"We're fine, he broke out during the night and came here."
"Oh," Steve says and there is a hint of blush on his cheeks.
Then you feel a presence behind you and Bucky’s arm goes around your waist.
"Mine," he says and you can't see him but he's probably glaring daggers at Steve who backs away.
"We'll be okay, I'll alert FRIDAY if I need help," you tell Steve.
When you close the door Bucky turns you before pushing you up against it and kissing you hard.
"Mine," he mumbles against your lips.
"Fucking caveman," you tell him. He grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder. "I'll show you caveman," he says and carries you to the bed
#veltana writes#bucky barnes#avengers!bucky barnes#bucky smut#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#posessive!bucky barnes#possessive!bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#possessive!bucky#posessive!bucky x reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky fic#bucky fanfic
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broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (m) | myg
title: broken (pt. 2)
pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)
series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1)
rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au
summary: the championship game lights up... and everything goes down.
note: not too much to say other than thank you. this part is definitely another very, very close one to my heart. please buckle up and enjoy the ride.
warnings: [spice warnings under the cut] language, angst, tension, alcohol mention & consumption, fights, basketball!yoongi🧍♀️, cocky!yoongi, jimin😳, tense situations, did i say angst?, long hair yoongi, crying, bro😀, reader is a real one i don’t make the rules, arguments, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, saying softhours puts some of this lightly, bro🥲, blood/wound mentions, hurt/comfort, there’s just a lot in here y’all idek, taehyung being the best ever, …angst.
drop date: february 9th, 2024, 10:37pm est
word count: 17.7k my god
smut warnings: cursing, choking, light slapping, breast play, angry s*x a ha ha, crying, multiple explicit scenes y'all istg don't perceive me lol, c*nt slapping, penetrative s*x, brat!reader, protected s*x, edging, consent king ofc :), rough s*x, b*cksh*ts and a lot of them, ...unprotected s*x (yeah it's here and y'all better be responsible or so help me!!!), f*ngering, or*l (m/f rec), brat tamer!3tan yoongi!!!, reader loses themselves for a sec, but yoongi is a king, pain k*nk whewwww, kissing, so much kissing lmfao, c*m play, slight bond*ge (yoongi hands), spanking, aftercare ofc :'))
-
-
There’s no way.
How the fuck is he here? When did that horrible excuse of a guy even join a team? Had he been playing intramurals this whole time?
“No fuckin’ way.”
Your eyes find your brother standing rigid at your side, wrists tensed to hell and shoulders spiked. Did he not know he was playing, either? Judging by his smoldering question, you’re going to guess he wasn’t aware.
“Were they always on this team?”
“No.”
“I don’t remember them being on any teams.”
They? Them? So they recognize more from the court on that day you try to not think about. Shifting your vision, you start gauge reactions under sounds of the growing crowd.
It’s Yoongi that looks at you first, eyes lowering to the hand you still have on your arm damn it you should be okay about that night already. But you can’t seem to let your limb go, your fingers covering it in a weak attempt at protection and resilience.
The blaze in his eyes makes you shake. Even as you swallow your pleas for everyone to just go home, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he walks over to stand in front of your knees, motioning for you to scoot over one so he can take the end seat.
Normally, you would slightly question why he wouldn’t just sit next to you. But this time, you’re hyper aware of what he’s doing—and why. It’s so obvious that you wanna reach out and grip his sweaty hand.
Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.
And your heart burns and burns.
If only he could do more, be more, show more. Because with a rattled ego and tainted mind, you’re already yearning for his touch, wanting him to whisk you out of here and bring you back to the comfort of his home—just like he did that night.
God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing.
“What’s the plan,” he asks, eyes on the court and palms between his knees.
“Dunno yet.” Your brother shakes his head before looking back, eyes narrowing at the laughs on the other bench. “But I might get my ass thrown out if we—”
“Play.”
Immediately, all three of them snap their heads your way. Fuck, your arm is still…
One person cannot have this hold on you. There’s no way you’re going to let him control your every waking moment, and your determination bubbles into your commands. “Play the game and beat his ass,” you seethe, holding yourself together and aiming daggers everywhere. “Just make it quick.”
Yoongi gives you a look before Jimin snags him with an eyebrow raise.
“And you’re paying me double.”
Looking at the man beside you, it’s almost comforting seeing his attention fully on your face. If it weren’t for your ghost on the other side of the scoring table and your brother standing there, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss him.
But you only nod, getting a huff and a lopsided curve in response before you watch him lock eyes with your brother, “What do you wanna do?”
After a long, resigned sigh, your sibling finally relents, “Fuck this shit up.”
Good. Yes. This is what you want—for you and them. “Exactly.”
Scanning around the tight circle, you notice that you have everyone’s attention.
But one person seems to send a question without any words at all. In kind, you answer the same way, wings battering your stomach when all of them send thunder to the court with lightning in their eyes.
Yoongi scoffs through a slant, carrying the air of someone you never want to mess with in your fucking life. “The fuckin’ nerve.”
Jimin hums, sliding a finger along his flexed to hell jaw. “Bold,” he adds. And his voice drop sends shivers when he turns to you,
“Don’t worry, love.”
You stare.
“This will be over soon.”
-
-
The game is… just a game. For now.
No one’s taunted hard other than a few smirks and winks, and right now it seems as if both teams are just being competitive more than antagonistic. Which relaxes you to the point where you’re cheering from the bench with the other players—and their coach that arrived late—jumping and yelling and clapping when things go in their favor.
Your brother’s slamming down dunks. Jimin’s been playing amazing defense with his quick reflexes and high stamina.
And Yoongi? Has gotten sickeningly sharp. All those late nights at the rec center are paying off in this championship and, when he scores a hard shot, the pride you feel launches you to your feet.
“Nice job, b—” Oh fuck you almost shout something that should never be public knowledge. Holding your tongue, you quickly switch it up with a hasty, “Let’s go!”
That was close. Way too close.
Get it together.
But you cannot help it right now. Seeing Yoongi facing off against the man you both wanna square up against? And making it look easy? The fluttering you feel in your belly grows double. Triple. Tenfold. His gestures, the way he acts like it’s nothing, his shrugs at their failed attempts to stop him—everything’s making you scratch proverbial walls and kick bench chairs.
And it’s not just him—the whole team has been playing excellently. Each play seems intentional; every pass and movement is strategic. If you didn’t know this was a casual rec game, you would think they’re gunning for a real, prestigious trophy.
However.
When it’s starting to be very clear who the better squad is, that’s when things start getting more than tense.
On a foul call, both sides start getting in each others’ faces. And you peg that as normal until someone on your team gets shoved and your brother immediately gets between the action.
Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats.
Shit, shit, shit. If there’s one thing your older sibling’s gonna do in this game, it’ll be finding any excuse to deck that man in the face. And once that happens, there’s no telling how many injuries are gonna walk off polished floors.
Thankfully, everyone separates without a ruckus, and timeout is called on your side. The crowd starts to yell in favor of either team, and that’s when you notice that Taehyung has been joined by Shiv and your friends. From the looks of things, all five of them are laser focused on you.
You hold a quick thumbs-up before you’re covered by hot and sweaty men huddling around the bench. And you immediately agree with their coach when he barks,
“I need you all to calm down.”
“No can do, coach.”
“Not if they aren’t.”
Shit. All of them look fucking livid, not giving any shits whatsoever if they’re willing to talk back to their leader. What’s really been happening on the court? Has it been even more tense than you perceived?
Oblivious to the context behind this matchup, their coach keeps yelling, “Look, I don’t give a shit if you have something to settle. Play the game and leave it on the floor. Understood?” When there’s charged silence, he yells it even louder.
And a smattering of agreement comes out before all of you hear an even bigger yelling session booming from the other bench. When you look over, it’s quickly noticeable that they’re getting reamed over there, too.
Jimin watches before speaking, and it seems like your coach’s pleas fell on deaf ears, “Fifteen went for my legs.”
“Saw that. Let’s switch cus he can’t guard me.”
“K.” Park swivels his head to address someone else. “You good to keep playing?”
Your brother responds with a nod, wiping his never-ending sweat. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Huh. Even though you know he’s mad, the man seems… Calm. Eerily calm. It’s reminding you of the way he acted after you came home from Yoongi’s.
And you don’t like it one bit.
But the timeout is over, and both teams eye each other on their walk back onto the court. As it continues, the gym erupts into life again, with a bit of back and forth shots racking the scoreboard up.
And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring.
Which lands him in a bit of trouble when the same idiot from Dalo pushes him during a layup. After he manages to make the shot, Yoongi immediately flicks him off—which gets a whistle blown. Which also means he has to sit on the bench for a second because his coach is pissed.
Ignoring the scathing remarks being thrown, he dumps himself next to you. And you immediately feel the heat roll off of him in waves, trying hard to focus on the game. “Don’t be stupid,” you jut out.
“What?”
“Don’t be stupid. These guys aren’t worth it.”
“After what he did to you?”
The way those words leave his mouth ice you over, flares spiraling through every fiber of your being. Your reaction is so visceral that you can barely get your response out, “Yeah, but…”
Leaning on his knees, Yoongi wipes his forehead with a crinkled to hell jersey, excess sweat pinging onto his sneakers. The crowd is loud and the buzzers even louder, but they aren’t enough to drown out his bite,
“I can’t let that shit go.”
“Yoongi.”
“Sorry, doll.”
“Please just—”
Yoongi leaves the bench before you can finish, and you whip your head in a rush, hands jutting out in a desperate attempt to hold him back.
Only for him to be just out of reach.
-
-
After halftime, it’s a whole different game.
From an outside perspective, it’s as if everyone was using the first half to sniff each other out, circling around each other before deciding how and when to go in for the kill.
And Yoongi isn’t the only one that you’re starting to worry about. Jimin, your brother, and even Rohan and the other guys are on edge, playing hard and doing everything they can to keep their scoring lead.
Both you and their coach know you can’t stop whatever’s going on out there. And you’re starting to feel yourself getting angry at how your brother and them are egging the guys on.
Why are they taunting? What the hell is making them so bent on making the other team pissed? Yes, all that went down with you, but nothing else had happened since then. And they clearly aren’t listening to anyone telling them to calm down.
If they end up starting shit you are going to—the fuck!
Yoongi gets straight shoved again as he goes for a layup, and you shoot up in your chair as he hits the back wall with a thud. While the players at your side are yelling and everyone on the court starts grouping in shouts, you stay rigid, solely watching Yoongi eye his attacker—the same idiot from Dalo.
Fuck everything, you wanna rush into the fray and throw hands yourself because that looked painful.
The only thing that’s stopping you is the chilling fact that Yoongi is… Grinning.
Wiping his curved lips, he waits while the refs break up the squabble, still looking triumphant as he walks to the line to shoot his free throws. When both of them are made, he stares directly at your assaulter—as you finally call it like it is—and doesn’t stop even when the coward looks away.
A whistle blows, and the game continues to be close. Too close, too close, too close. A couple more timeouts let you see just how laser-focused everyone is, and you’re a little shaken when it feels like they forgot you were even occupying their bench.
What the hell is being said on the court? Even Jimin is brimming with anger.
But after a few back and forths, Yoongi passes to your brother for a hard dunk, basket ringing from his throwdown and shaking when he lands.
Thank god. Those points are enough. They’re gonna win.
All the pent up anxiety you’ve harbored all game releases as everyone starts cheering, and your pride soars as your boys stare down their opponents while the clock winds down.
It’s over. The game is over, nothing too serious happened, and you can all go the fuck home to eat dinner and celebrate.
Your eyes catch Yoongi throwing a rudely lopsided curve across the court. Even when Jimin comes up to push him back in excitement, his expression doesn’t change.
And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive.
Then, as it goes, your brother comes up and they all share quick daps, eyes ablaze and not letting the losers out of their sight.
Well. All of them are infamous for a reason. You would guess their energy altogether certainly contributes to that. Because the aura you feel oozing from them fills the gymnasium all the way up to your knees.
And the sigh you let out mingles with their coach’s shake of his head.
-
-
Things are still tense as they all shake hands—or at least offer hands to shake—with the other team. The atmosphere is even a little iced when they receive their trophy.
But the way you’re currently being surrounded as your guys converse hides you from plain sight, so you feel heavily protected. Even Jimin, who’s usually cheerful even when exhausted, wields sharp eyes as he keeps glancing over his shoulder.
Honestly? You wouldn’t know what to do without them. Both your brother and all his friends, good pasts or not, are great people. They didn’t need to shield you like this. But they’re doing it anyway, because they won’t give that lowlife another reason or chance to approach you.
Yeah. Your older sibling knows how to choose his circle.
It’s making you wonder if…
Nah.
That’s still too big a reach.
When it seems like all of them and their cheering squad are gone, everyone starts making their way over to the bleachers—and you’re acutely reminded of what went down under similar looking ones the other night.
Your shivers are overshadowed by Yuri’s telltale screams to Rohan, “You were so good, baby! Are you okay?”
Reia and Dom shake their heads before focusing on you, the latter being the spokeswoman, “So what was all that for?”
“Don’t ask,” you sigh, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. “I’m just glad they won and that we can go home.”
“You’re not coming to Yuri’s?” Reia asks. “I thought we planned on that, no?”
Ah, shit. Earlier this week, you did make plans with them without really thinking about what day they were gonna fall on. But now you’re so mentally drained that you kinda just wanna go—
“Is anyone else starving? I’m hungry as fuck!”
Right. Food. Adrenaline made you forget you were starving. Glancing towards your brother, you quickly remind him, “Yeah, me. And you’re paying.”
“Ah, shit, that’s right.” As he lets out a hard groan and deals with Jimin and Yoongi’s comments, your sibling relents, “Alright, where are we going.”
“Up to you,” you shrug, stealing a little look at the man you want to kiss like hell for his performance tonight.
God, Yoongi’s so handsome. As Jimin leaves his side, he silently wipes his forehead of any excess sweat, hands and shoulders shining in the lights wait wait wait. Hold on.
Walking over, you toss any care about who notices you out the window. And as he eyes your approach, you murmur with care and concern, “Is your back okay?”
Blinking once, twice, the man nods. “Yeah, it’s all good.”
“You sure? That looked…”
Of course he decides that now is the perfect time to rake his sweaty locks back. Speaking so low that only you can hear, Yoongi reassures with a fist full of hair, “I’m fine, doll.”
Motherfucker.
Pinning down your urge to reach out and smother him, you only breathe relief. And before you move away to put some distance between, you whisper, “Thank you.”
Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?”
Swallowing what’s left of your anxiety, you sigh. “For not getting into it out there. I was about to get mad as hell, but.. Looks like they were all talk.”
“Mm.”
Honestly? It’s a miracle. The game’s over without any hitches or brawls? More relief starts blossoming in your chest, prompting a smile to grace your features. “You looked so good out there, by the way. I almost called you ba—”
“What are y’all talking about over there!”
Your mouth snaps shut as soon as you see your brother watching, but Yoongi is quick to fire off an insult, “The way you always take so long to pick something.”
“I picked already!”
“Then let’s go then.”
Laughing, you join the whole crew as you’re all the last ones to walk out. Your friends and Shiv parked in another lot since one side was already full, so you tell them you’ll meet at the restaurant.
Some other teammates decide to join, with jerseys being shucked off as everyone heads out the door. Immediately, body odor swoops into your nose, making you welcome the crisp, fresh air of night.
Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain.
Conversations cease, which only leaves the sound confirming your observation: booming, rolling thunder. Stopping at the edge of the gym’s awning, multiple heads turn up at the rumbles, watching lightning crack the sky.
In front of you, Jimin shifts his head to the side. “Still?”
And when you look at who he’s asking, you see Yoongi nod.
Weird.
But it’s not raining just yet, so all of you make your way into the lot and to your cars. As you do, you check your phone while making your way over, aiming a question at Tae, “You know where we’re going?”
“Yeah, it’s not far,” he responds, fishing out his own device. “I think we’ve been there before.”
We? Looks like things are progressing nicely over there. Since you’re lingering behind the guys, you start to take a small jab, “We, huh? Cute.”
Lips spread as tight as his eyes, Taehyung parries. “Cute? Look who’s talking, miss whipped.”
“You’re whipped.”
“No, you.”
“No, you,” you giggle out, reaching out to tickle Tae’s side and laughing as he flinches away. You chase him for a few seconds before you see his whole body freeze completely, asking a small question before going quiet.
And when you slowly follow his line of vision, your heart freefalls to your gut, smashing it so hard you feel bile sting the back of your throat.
The man from Dalo. And all the guys from the court plus some.
Surround both Jimin’s and your brother’s cars.
Fuck. Oh, fuck, there’s so many of them, standing and waiting and unflinching in the bursts of thunder inching closer and closer what the fuck are you gonna do—
“Taehyung.”
Your eyes shake.
“Get her out of here. Now.”
And you’ve never screamed so loud.
Every word rips out of your mouth before you’re promptly shushed by large fingers, icicles pinging around your heart and holding it down, “Don’t fucking do thi—!”
To your horror, Tae’s already hauling you back, voice low and firm in your ear, “Come on.”
“No! What the fuck—”
“We’re leaving.”
“Please—!”
There are so many of them. So, so many of them. Panic drowns out your words and excess leaks out of your eyes, your own storm preventing you from seeing that your best friend is just as torn apart.
“Babe, we have to go now.”
“No, let me go!”
They’re outnumbered. What if they have weapons? What if the police are called? What if something happens that you aren’t prepared for?
You’re screaming. Curses, their names, or whatever whatever you don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying because your toes are kissing the edge of madness.
Dragged a good distance away, your yells devolve into incoherency, your nose and eye sockets smashing into Taehyung’s solid forearm so hard it hurts.
Make it out, make it out, make it out. For the love of everything in the fucking universe and beyond it, make it out alive.
Some movements and backs straightening are the last things you see before getting pulled around the corner.
And when Yoongi calmly rolls one of his shoulders, you feel a wick of your soul burn out.
Panic. Worry. Panic and more panic. The car ride that Tae paid for is the blurriest muddy water you’ve ever waded through.
Truthfully, you don’t even remember blankets being pulled over your shoulder. Where even are you? Oh, you’re in a bed. Whose bed are you in because this isn’t yours. But what does it matter anyway what does anything matter anyway nothing matters there’s nothing you can do you gotta get up and go back over there get up get up go—
As soon as you yank his bedroom door open, Taehyung is there, holding you back and pushing your frantic energy back inside. “Tae, if you don’t let me—”
“Do what!”
“I’m going back!” Wrestling out of his strong hold, you bolt down his hallway, head clanging as your shoulder bumps into a wall. “We need to go back—”
“Stop!” You hear running as you burst through the living room, whizzing past the glowing television. “We have to stay here—”
No no no. There’s no way you’re staying here when you need to be back at that lot. Who the fuck would call for help if anyone needs it? When they’re gonna need it? Your vision proves so blurry you can’t even find your shoes—
Arms wrap around your waist and you fight back with a scream, “Let me go!”
“Stop and just think for a second—”
“Why aren’t you with me on this, they’re—”
“Dumb as fuck!”
Your friend’s quick comment is so sharp it cuts your breath. As you still in his firm but comforting hold, you finally stop to breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe as you’re turned to level a look with his eyes.
Eyes that are red-rimmed and so, so raw. “They’re idiots,” Taehyung grits out. “But they will be alright.”
From the shake of his voice, you find that neither of you think that for sure.
“I need to.. To…” Your breaths are ragged, energy spent and head dizzy from your quick exit from his bed. As you come down from your volcanic high, every weight the world places on your back proves too much.
“You need to relax,” Tae advises, guiding you further back inside. And you don’t speak as he leads you past the couch, past the pictures on his hallway wall, and into the dark of his bedroom.
Maybe it’s over. Right? Maybe someone will answer if you ring them up. “Call. I need to call…”
“Shh,” he soothes again, walking you backwards away from his door. When the bends of your knees hit his bed, Taehyung lets you down slowly until you’re sitting. “I’ll do it.”
Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod.
Your friend steps away to fiddle with his phone, the light illuminating his beautiful features in the night. When he holds it to his ear, this is when you hear rain and the television in the living room, noticing that it’s playing a movie he watches for comfort.
Shit. He’s going through it just like you are, and yet he’s still finding energy to calm your nerves? What have you even done to deserve him?
Guess you know how to choose your circle, too.
Going unanswered, Taehyung lowers his hand, thumb rubbing the homescreen before gripping the device hard.
Both of you are in the same boat. So steer when he can’t do it anymore. Soft but assertive, you rise to your feet, offering your embrace while calling his name, “..Tae.”
When he turns, the man wastes no time in dropping his phone to bring you in close. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and you hear his words on your head but feel the trembles in his chest. “Okay?”
Feeble fingers grab at his soft shirt, and you bury into his scent while soaked and tired eyes shut.
You want to believe him. You do. You do.
But hope may be a bitch.
So you don’t.
-
-
Forever passes while you both lie still in his bed, with Taehyung holding you close and keeping you subdued with notes of honey and wood. You both try to have conversation, but it’s disjointed and manufactured, so giving up is a group effort.
You’re about to give up on a lot of things before you both jolt at Tae’s phone vibrating.
The world shifts quick as you both sit up, the call immediately being accepted and a low greeting whooshing at your side, “Hey.”
With bated breath, you hear Jimin on the line. “Hey.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”
We. We, we, we, all of them thank the fucking world. As your breath is held, Taehyung’s voice is solid, “Say it.”
“My eye is pretty fucked. Yoongi’s face is cut up and he’s got some nasty bruises on his—”
You don’t even remember yanking the phone to your mouth. “Where is he.”
Jimin audibly pauses on the line before having the audacity to chuckle. Irked and feeling ire bubble back to the surface, you seethe, “This isn’t funny, Park. Where the fuck is he?”
“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.”
Oh.
“Your brother’s here, too.”
“Ah.” That means they’re all there. They’re all heading home. “Am I on speaker.”
“Umm.. Yeah.”
As much as you’re relieved they’re all okay, stockpiled anxiety transforms into anger, your limit striking the thundering sky. “Actually, you know what? Good. Now I can say you’re all idiots and immature as fuck.”
It’s your sibling that responds first. “Hey, wait a damn minute—”
“I waited long enough!” you scream, ignoring Taehyung’s wide eyes.
You know you need to relax. But you can’t help what’s happening right now and all you feel is pain. “I know this shit isn’t new to y’all, but really? You didn’t need to do this.”
“He was gonna—”
“All you had to do was play the game! Why’d you have to make them mad? Do you even know what could’ve happened back there?” Damn it, you weren’t supposed to cry during this part, not when you just want them to know they fucked up.
And the response is dead silence. Because of course it is. But if they won’t answer you here, they’re gonna answer another, “Just tell me one thing,” you plead. “Is this gonna happen again?”
That one your brother answers with finality. “They won’t be coming around anymore.”
Gulping, you give Taehyung a glossy-eyed look before staring at his lit screen again. Trying not to let your voice waver, you accept his response, “Okay… Are you okay?”
“Me? Yeah, the hits I took were weak as fuck. I’ll get home soon so if you wanna order in tonight we can.”
“Fuck that.”
“Huh?”
What an idiot. “Bro, you don’t even know how fucking mad I am,” you accuse through gritted teeth. There’s no way in hell you wanna deal with their bullshit. Ignoring your pleas and staring harm in the face? Forget it. “I’m going to Yuri’s.”
“What? Nah, come home tonight and we’ll talk.”
“I just—No.” Taehyung has to grip your shoulder before pulling you into a hug. And you’re still steel in his arms because you haven’t been this upset in ages. “I’m not talking to any of you for awhile.”
And you mean that.
“…Fine. But go asap then. I don’t want you out late on your own.”
So you gotta listen to what he wants but when it comes to what you say, it’s crickets? Goddamn, you’re furious. “…Of course you don’t.”
And you hang up before anyone can say anything else.
-
-
You open the front door to your brother leaning against the hallway wall.
Both of you eye each other, one of you with a perfectly fine face and the other that isn’t so lucky because he’s a fool.
And no words are exchanged as you trudge your frustration to the kitchen.
-
-
Ice. Bandages. Dinner. Anger propels you through it all.
Whipping up a quick but hearty meal, you let your brother patch himself up after demanding he showered. The smells of comfort food waft through your nose as things sizzle on the stove and, through the whole process, you don’t think about anything except how upset you are.
They’re all okay. But like Taehyung so abruptly put it, they’re all stupid.
As you turn off your burner, you transfer everything to a bowl, sighing so loud it seasons the top with fire. When you approach the bar, your actions speak pretty damn loud—the dish clank shoving out a question from your sibling,
“Is there something you wanna say to me?”
“There’s a bunch of shit I wanna say to you.”
“It’s about Yoongi,” he asks, the absence of hesitation making your insides squeeze. “Isn’t it.”
But luckily for you, your rage is so potent that it overruns your fear. As soon as your brother stands up and starts to repeat his question, your correction clangs through the room,
“It’s about all of you! You say you wanna be there for me but what the fuck will doing this shit do?”
Freezing, the man waits in shock as you keep going, “Yes, that guy deserves hell. I was so scared when he grabbed me at the club.” You stop to swallow. “But I had them both there and we left.”
Fuck, this is hard. Having to relive that shit is difficult but you need your brother—and all of them, for that matter—to know how hurt you feel right now. Mustering up enough bravery to get to the goddamn point, you finally squeak out,
“If I lose them? Lose you? Because of something as stupid as a fight?” Your eyes search his, and your heart cracks when you see glassy sheen amongst his bruises. “What would I do then?”
You expect silence. And silence is what you get. It’s drawn out, loud, and telling. “We know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes,” he whispers, eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. “And we’re sorry.”
Another moment passes between the two of you, the food you made left uneaten on the counter and the rest sitting still on the stove. But you know your sibling will eat it all tonight, whether you’re there or not.
And you step forward at the same time he holds his battered arms out.
Freshly showered, he still smells like rain and exertion. But his heart beats under your chest, he’s present, and back home—things you need to stop taking for granted.
But you’re still mad. And getting things off your chest has only made you tired, so you decide that it’s finally time to go before you circle back to other scary territory brought up tonight. “I’m leaving now,” you announce as you step away. “But just think about that.”
“I will.”
“I’m serious.”
“I will.”
Staring, you take note of his cuts and injuries, wondering how the others are faring even though you don’t wanna deal with anything else. Because it hurts too much, and if you see who you’re thinking about, there’s no telling what you’d do if you were like this with your brother. There’s no telling how you’d…
No. You choose to go the easy route this time. Everyone can simmer in their sore, swelling consequences while you have a night of de-stressing with your friends.
So you leave to go pack without another word.
It’s raining.
Hard.
And even though your car is heading to Yuri’s, your heart is beating backwards. Tugging you somewhere else and not letting up.
With a ping of chill, you can’t shake it. Braking at a stop sign close to your destination, you sit in silence, letting the rain pelt every side of your vehicle and wondering what the hell to do.
Truthfully? Your brother looked like shit. But your body isn’t telling you to go back to the house, which can only mean one other place. And you know for a fact you don’t wanna talk to him, either.
So fucking upsetting. They did all that for what? You can barely keep your thoughts in a row because they keep yelling at jostling each other just like everybody did on the court. If anyone had to fight the dipshit, it should've been you.
Fuck! Your head connects with the wheel, an inner monster rumbling with the thunder because you’re so fed up with everything that happened.
Your brain is the one yelling. But your heart is begging for it to listen. Go to Yuri’s? Go to Yoongi’s. Find shelter in that warm bed of hers and sink in her plushies to comfort you?
A sigh. Maybe you can at least call him to tell him off one more time. He needs to hear what you told your brother because if you ever, ever lose him—
Your eyes burn.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
No answer.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
Pick up. What the fuck.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.
Curses flying, you whip your vehicle in a flash, heart pounding so loud it’s blocking out the storm. Which is morbidly impressive considering how horridly it’s pouring.
Thinking in leaps, you pivot and make another decision. Tell her and make it all quick.
Yuri: Outgoing Call
“Hello?”
“Hey, I’m not coming.”
“You okay?”
“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”
“Yoongi’s? Why?”
Ah, shit. Oh, fuck. She doesn’t know.
Banging the steering wheel, you smash your teeth, stressed as hell from braving the rain in the dark and now snitching on yourself to someone else.
Damn it. What do you say? What can you possibly even say when you’re so mad and stressed and conflicted and worried—
“Hello?”
“Because he’s the one,” you whoosh out, your vision quivering twice as much as it should. “And things went down after the game and now something feels wrong.”
“Oh, shit. Is that why y’all didn’t come to—”
“Yes.” When you say all this out loud, now it has weight. Horrifying weight on your chest and a block pushing down on the gas. You hear a bit of shuffling on the line, and you’re starting to get so anxious that you blurt, “Please don’t say anything. Please.”
“I won’t. Not about this.”
“Thank you.”
“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”
“Okay.”
Go, go, go. Please, just get there.
Letting up, you change your speed, hoping to everything good in the world that this feeling you have is only a feeling and nothing more.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
What a strange emotion, wanting his reason for not picking up solely being because he doesn’t wanna talk to you. That is an answer you can deal with.
But you still can’t fight off the jagged pulses telling you it’s something else.
After an agonizing drive, you finally see his complex, tensing harder the further and further away you have to park.
Whipping into a spot, you screech into it before hauling your bag out, popping the trunk and desperately grabbing a plastic box you always keep inside.
And the mad dash drenches you long before you seek cover, your bones shivering shivering shivering from the chill.
Yoongi has to be home. His car is here.
But he still won’t pick up the fucking phone.
Skidding at his door, your knocks are rapid, knuckles singed from the ice cold wraps.
Answer, answer, answer. For fuck’s sake, he better answer.
After a haunting moment of silence, you decide to call one more time, head wet and bones shivering as you press the phone to your damp ear.
Finally. “Hello.”
“Open the door,” you jump into commanding, hearing nothing other than a voice that sounds so crushed and low that it crumples you inside.
“You’re here?”
“Yeah, let me in.” Fuck, your teeth are clattering against each other, whether it’s from the rain, the cold, or anger, you can’t tell.
But the reply you get is the coldest thing imaginable. And it sets your whole body aflame.
“Not tonight.”
Hell no. Hell fucking no Yoongi is not going to get rid of you that easily. Not when you have a boatload of things to say and only one dock to dump them all on, “Yoongi, I swear to god—”
“Not tonight—”
“—you don’t let me in I’m—”
“Go home—”
“I’m fucking staying out here until you open the goddamn door!”
Oh, you’re pissed. You’re so fucking pissed because this all could’ve been avoided if none of them were stupid. Or prideful. Or whatever the fuck boys decide to be when they can’t let something go.
And this man still has the audacity to give you the stiff arm, silence on the line before he rasps out another short, “I’m serious.”
“No.”
“Go home.”
“No!”
He says your name. So, so softly, before a gut-wrenching,
“Please.”
Breath shaken, you rest your forehead against chilly wood, hoping it quells the fire you feel rising from your rib cage.
You can’t give up. Not when you have so much to say. Not when you have to check on him and make sure he’s fine.
Not when you give into the strongest premonition that you need to be nowhere else but with him tonight.
You will stay. Stay, stay, stay. Even if he doesn’t want to see you.
Voice trembling in rage and concern and everything in between, you feel your eyes sear through when they close, mission boiling down to one more desperate choice,
“…No.”
You’re cold. And wet. But you will stand out here for as long as it takes him to let you inside—a night, a day, no matter what.
And for a moment. Or a few. You think he’s dead set on making you prove that.
But you finally, finally, finally hear a sigh before a lock turn, and you try to prepare yourself for what you see but he opens the door and his face comes into view holy shit he looks like a wreck—
“What the fuck,” you grit out as you rush in with vision swimming, digging into your bag for the medkit you hastily stashed and swinging off your sandals because you gotta get something in the—
A hand grips you hard, tugging you back before you even register what’s happening.
As your feet stumble back onto linoleum, your gaze snaps to the ground.
And your breath cuts like it’s your last.
Shards.
Pieces.
Thousands of wood and glass chips litter the entire open area of the living room.
And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning.
Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?
“I told you, doll.”
You choke on a sob.
“Go home.”
Your breaths return before you straighten, tears flowing freely as you don’t know whether to start cleaning up the chaos or finally facing the one who caused it.
No, no, no. Get rid of it.
Throw it out, all of it, all of it.
A new fire roars to life, forging your steeling commitment as you wrestle out of Yoongi’s hold.
What did he do, what did he do?
Revving with smoke out of your ears, you burn a path to the kitchen, grabbing a trash bag before marching into the wreckage. Up go the biggest pieces first, chucked into plastic before the smaller ones follow.
Throw it all. This one, this one, and this one.
Yoongi isn’t even wearing shoes. He can cut himself up even more if this all stays where it is.
Shit, this is everywhere.
When you realize you’re gonna need a broom, you storm back into his laundry closet to yank one out and keep going. When you go to sweep, the sharpest voice cuts through your fingers.
“Stop.”
Your grit grips the tool even tighter. Because you won’t. Don’t dare look into his expression, either, because you know that one glance will melt every scream on your tongue. So you stay resolute and shoot rejection to the ground, “No.”
“Just go, please.”
“No.”
This hurts.
This really, really hurts.
Yoongi has never, ever said these things to you and it feels like a knife jabbing into the same spot over, and over again. You almost prefer three new months of no contact over whatever the hell this is.
But you have to keep going. Eyes clenching, lips wobbling, you must keep going.
Because you came here for a reason other than this mess. And he’s gonna have to do better than this to kick you back out into the rain.
“I got it.”
“Let me do it.”
“Your brother needs you.”
“Yeah, well, I already tore the fuck into him and I’m gonna do the same to you.” You harden your fist on the sweeper, tugging it more towards your shoulder with finality. And you gather all the energy you need to leave no more room for arguments, because Yoongi is going to listen, “So sit down.”
It hurts.
He wants to say shit. You know he wants to.
But he only breathes hard with eyes closed, following your orders and carrying his dark clouds to the dining room.
When he finally leaves you alone, this is when you look his way.
In sweats and a shirt, he appears fine. But with a deep pang, you notice he’s slightly limping. Judging from those knuckles, you wonder if they’re red from the fight or from hitting another wall of his apartment.
Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.
Shit.
While he dumps himself at his table, you clean up the pieces of his rampage, mentally noting that one plan of yours has now changed.
This one. These, too. A string here. A metal piece there.
You don’t know how long it takes you. All you know is that you’re burning inside, determined to clean everything and sweep this chaotic energy away.
One more. Two more. Another one here.
As soon as you’re done, you lug the trash bag out of the front door and don’t give a shit what happens to it now.
Keep going. There’s more that you need to take care of.
The fuel inside of you rages on, anger conflicting with anxiety and past worries and sadness for something that didn’t even happen. As you spin, you vow yourself to keep pushing until you can’t anymore.
Sniffling. Shivering. But staying strong because things could’ve gone a lot worse.
Yoongi meets you by the table, messy, damp hair shielding his features. “You’ve done enough.”
“I still need to—”
“Just.” He looks away. “Go home, doll. I can’t do this tonight.”
“Do what? I’m helping you.”
That’s what you do for each other, right? You both help each other. But now you’re not so sure because Yoongi comes back with not an acknowledgement, nor a way of relenting.
But ice.
“Who said I needed it?”
And in all the time you’ve spent with this man, this is the first time you’ve felt downright cold. “Yoongi, what?” Your eyes travel across his face, chest caving in when there’s barely any hints of vitality. “Are you serious?”
“You think I’m joking?”
“You’re kicking me out? What happened to saying you’d never do that, huh?”
“I say a lot of things.”
…Oh.
That hurt. That… That physically couldn’t have hurt any harder.
Nodding, you look away, shaking your head in disbelief because you are on the verge of losing it. “You know what? You do say a lot of things.”
Walking away, you start rearranging pillows on the couch pushed askew. “Like how perfect I am.” Picking up his books from the now non-existent coffee table. “And how there’s no one else.”
As you give the volumes a new home on his intact tv stand, you turn to face him again. “Those are just words, too, huh?”
Yoongi kicks his head back with a smile, one that cuts instead of mends. “Nah… Not tonight.”
“Not tonight what.”
“We aren’t doing this tonight.”
“The fuck we aren’t.” It’s his turn to walk away, with a slow head shake that you really don’t like. “Where are you going?”
“Nowhere.” Yoongi shifts his head to the side, but not enough for you to fully see him. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want you to. “But you’re going home.”
Something’s off. There’s something completely off but all you feel is sadness and rejection in your ribcage. “So this is how it happens, huh. Now I’m just like everyone else.”
He finally faces you, miles away even though you’re just rooms apart. “You’re gonna go there?”
“I am.”
“Wow.”
That’s what he comes back with? This is gutting you from the inside out and you have no idea what’s happening but now rage is flaring into your mouth, “You think I wanted to come here? After what all of you did?”
“Do you even know?”
“No! But how the fuck would I? You don’t tell me shit!”
“That’s cus—”
Your response sears over his floors, “I can take care of myself. But none of you told me about that dude from the court. None of you.” Breath shaken, you continue dumping out all your thoughts and previous concerns, “If I had known? That whole Dalo thing could’ve been avoided and I would’ve ran.”
For a person that you’ve come to know as so warm, Yoongi’s entire aura freezes you over as you keep talking. “And today? You know how fucking scared I was? If I… I…”
All he does is stare. Why isn’t he doing anything else? Is he really flipping the switch and choosing to legitimately let you leave this time?
Fine then.
“You know what?” Giving up, you laugh—harsh, and breathy, and without any joy at all. “Forget it. You’re not even listening anyway.”
“I swear to—I just said not tonight.”
Frustration from the game, fear from the ambush after, anxiety from not hearing from them. All of it coalesces into something you can’t even control anymore. Your buffer shuts off, the monster you created seizing the reins, “No, I get it. I do! You want me gone. Sure. See you in three more months.”
Stunned, Yoongi huffs in disbelief, jaw working overtime. ��Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am. Trying to help you but it looks like you don’t even want that. So good fucking bye.”
And it looks like he has a beast of his own because his next response to your last attempt has you reeling back in shock,
“Who asked you?”
Dark liquid drips onto your soul.
You can only stare, unblinking and feeling like you’re in an entirely different universe. “Who asked me? Who asked me.”
“That’s what I said.”
Forget the question of who asked you because… Who are you even talking to? Who is this person standing in front of you because it’s not the Yoongi you know. It’s so jarring and hurtful and strange that you truly feel thrust into the middle of a nightmare.
You’re gonna do it. You’re actually gonna leave this time.
“You know what? Kiss my ass, Yoongi.”
God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.
It hurts.
You don’t even know where this is all coming from. All you know is that you’re angry and there’s no stopping the hot magma bubbling in your center.
Silence fills the room.
And it rains. It pours.
But finally, you hold a sob back before burning a shaky path to his door, wrestling with the lock before yanking it open—
Only to have it shut back in your face, so thrown when you realize you’re getting spun. Air whooshes out of you before your shoulder blades connect with wood—
And this is the goddamn breaking point. The walls you haphazardly built to keep you upright collapse and tumble. It’s so potent and blinding that you don’t even realize your hands are connecting with his chest in the weakest, saddest ways and you are outright screaming.
“God, what the fuck! I told you to—We didn’t hear from you for hours and I—I didn’t know if you were okay—”
“Whoa, hold u—”
“I thought the worst and I—didn’t even get a chance to—I finally told you want I wanted and you—Fuck—”
“Just listen—”
“Don’t ever do that again! I don’t wanna lose you and today was so fucking scary and I’m not, fucking, leaving—”
Your lips are smashed to hell, his lips bruising so hard you feel it in the back of your skull. And it’s a whole storm as Yoongi pins you against the door, leg wedging between yours and his hands gripping you like a vice. It’s intense. It’s overwhelming.
“I swear to—”
You don’t know what to do. What to do what to do what to do, and all your madness jangles as you’re yanked and slammed against another wall, breath leaping into his open mouth before you tug at his hair, digging anger through his shoulders.
“Can’t fucking listen, can you?”
“No,” you rip from your throat, shoving him back only to gravitate right back and lock lips again.
And he rips at your clothes, tearing the front of your shirt so far your chest emerges on full display. Before you can even react to the cuts on his face, Yoongi’s hand clenches around your throat, making you gargle just how you fucking want to right now.
“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.”
“When has that ever stopped us.” You groan as you get rapidly led back into something hard, and you realize it’s the dining table digging into your ass.
“He’s still home.”
“So?”
“Shouldn’t you—”
“Then kick me out!” you taunt. “For real. Let me go. Fucking do it then.”
Yoongi works his jaw before gripping tighter, making you groan and your gut flare into something primal. Nostrils flaring, he moves to grip your head hard enough to make your stomach flip but not firm enough to scare you.
Never to scare you. “You aren’t gonna leave me alone.”
Your eyes are ice.
“Are you.”
You solely watch in determination, breath harsh from your nose and billowing out like steam. Drilling your answer into his eyes, you charge the surrounding air enough to spark like the flashing sky outside.
And Yoongi cracks like lightning.
“Goddamn it.”
Everything happens at once and in quick succession. Teeth grit to hell, Yoongi pulls you upward before fast stepping you to his bedroom, slamming you through the door before you shove him right into his desk.
Things teeter and shake and clang with each impact, your storm disrupting everything in its path and creating a tornado of desire and thoughts in your brain.
Something swirls and twists between your souls, tightening and condensing into emotions darker than midnight. And as angry as you are, it’s slipping into a dangerous mania, and you’ve never been this excited for anything in your life.
“Stubborn.”
“Coward.”
Your back stings as you’re pushed back into his door, the wood smacking into the spackle of his wall. Rough lips smother yours as you claw at his shoulders, neck, hair, and you hear him growl into your mouth,
“Want me to kiss your ass? Suck my dick then we’ll talk.”
“Fuck you. I give better head than you anyway.”
His words rival the deepest growl, “Prove it.”
“Make me.”
Whirlwind. Storm. Tempest. At this point, it’s a whole goddamn high. Your body is thrumming and the only way to feed your anger is to channel it through actions.
And truth be told, you need this. You both do. With all the high strung emotions that had nowhere to go until you collided?
This is liberation.
You’re shoved onto your knees before Yoongi dives into his pants, and you’re already hungry and impatient enough to help him shrug his sweats down before he can do it himself.
“Choke on it,” he commands, holding his dick and watching as you note how hard he already is. When you waste no time taking him in, you elicit the deepest groan you’ve ever pulled from him when you fling spit onto his length.
Maybe his reaction is to your face. Because you’re still mad as fuck and you aren’t done letting him know that.
With a passing thought, you realize that this is all new. But you’re welcoming it because it’s working. Only Yoongi can bring out this passion even in anger, or maybe the two of you were going to get to this point no matter what.
“Fuck.” He steadies the bottom of your chin while you suck him off. “Uh huh. Got anything else to say?”
You flick him off, and he hums with a rumble, his cock reacting and hitting the back of your prideful throat.
“Fuck you, too, doll.” His talks devolve into hisses, grunts, moans when you slobber all over yourself, and your cunt is already dripping with your own slick. “There you go. Gonna take it all? Or are you gonna keep running that mouth?”
And you pop off before taunting, “Find out, pussy.”
And you’re swallowing him before he shoves you all the way forward, your body arching up in a gag but filled with him him him, your nose flat against his pelvis and his dick squeezing tears from your eyes and your throat overstuffed to hell and there’s no way he’s gonna forget this moment. You’re making damn sure of it.
Another middle finger raises as you’re tensing around him, and you can barely hear him above you but you do know he’s massively pleased. Tears stream down your eyes when you’re yanked off, gasping for air and being pulled off the ground.
“Holy fuck.”
Throat hoarse, you attempt speech but it doesn’t matter anyway, because his lips steal them all. And your cunt is slapped with a whole palm, making you flinch and shoot out a whine into his kiss.
Before you know it, your body hits the bed before he joins you, arms bulging as he rips your top open completely. You can’t even think straight as he teases your earlier efforts, “I’ve had better.”
“Oh, you fucking—Shut the fuck up,” you growl, a moan leaving without permission as he palms your cunt again. Just when you think he’s gonna top you, Yoongi hauls you up, hastily leading you around the bed until your back connects with another wall.
You love that shit. And you’re starting to think Yoongi is very, very aware of this fact.
“Take those fuckin’ pants off,” he orders. “And hands on the wall before I put them there.”
“Can’t make me do shit—”
Fingers grip your chin before Yoongi gets right into your face, primal instinct making you go on full alert. As his tongue prods his cheek, your whole lower body quivers. “I can. And I will, if you don’t behave.” Tapping your jaw in a warning, he hums. “Now do what I fucking say.”
Holy shit, he’s not playing around. Which only heightens your desire to peaks previously unreached, and you’re shucking your bottoms off while he yanks his drawer open for condoms. Hurrying, you fling your clothes away before planting—
Yoongi smashes his whole front against your back—pinning your whole body against the cold, rough wall—before intertwining long fingers with yours. “Good girl.”
Hitching your hips back, he sticks your ass out as you slip, and you feel his cock tease your entrance. Groaning, you grip your hands into fists as he continues to rub your cunt but never enter. Denying, denying, denying. Smacking your pussy and still not letting you feel him inside.
And it’s maddening. “Please!”
“Please what,” he asks, giving your ass a spank that has you flinching into the wall.
And, without any shred of mercy, this goes on for longer than he’s ever held out. It’s so sickening that tears start flowing from your eyes, and you devolve into saying anything to get him to fuck your brains out. Between spanks on your ass, slaps on your tits, and aggravating kisses on your back, Yoongi doesn’t let you phase him for minutes.
It’s when you choke on a sob that he finally, finally squeezes inside of you, checking for your nod before wrecking you completely.
“Oh, fuck—” Your eyes shut tight as you try to keep yourself upright, hands pushing against the wall as your legs shift with every thrust.
“This ass. Fuck.” Yoongi’s pace is relentless, hands bruising your hips and your cheeks smacking into his pelvis over and over and over. “It’s a goddamn problem.”
You’re trying so hard. So, so hard to stay on the wall. But your hands are too sweaty; they're starting to slip with each attempt. “Bed,” you command. “Bed now.”
And he obliges immediately, pulling out and yanking you back. Mouth to your ear, he both checks in while making your legs jelly, “You tapping out?”
“Break my fucking back,” you rasp in return, hearing him growl in satisfaction before burying you facedown into his bed. As he plunges inside again, you grip at his sheets, driven to the brink and reveling in all the things he’s saying to you while feeling him in your stomach.
Suddenly, you feel your arms pulled back, and you yell into his mattress as he buries himself even deeper. Everything you’re screaming makes no sense, but the phenomenal sensation you feel as you go limp renders you speechless anyway.
Yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing as he pushes his thumb into your asshole, because you clench so hard around him that he chuckles darker than dark. Careening into space, you kiss the edge of euphoria before he inconveniently pulls out, launching a sling of insults from your mouth.
“What was that?”
“I said fuck you!”
“Thought so.”
Not done in the slightest, Yoongi hauls your thighs so flush against him that you have to use your fingertips for support. Just as you’re about to argue, he rams into you from a new and impossibly enticing angle and holy fuck it feels so good you want to weep.
“Put that fucking hand down,” he growls, smacking away the fingers you didn’t even know were on your mouth. “If you wanna talk shit.”
“Fuck—!”
“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”
You’ve never felt this out of control. This wild. This out of body. Your head is yanked back, your back pressing into the front of his shirt before you feel him so far into your guts that you quiver.
Now at the mercy of his tongue in close range, you hear his gravelly tone in your ear, “What’s my fuckin’ name.”
“Asshole—”
A hard smack to your tits has you crumpling with a whine. “Say it.”
“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—”
Another spank to your inner thigh and you’re gone. Eyes roll as he tweaks your nipple, and your words are almost garbled when he grips your chin from behind. “This what we’re doing? Hmm?”
You laugh breathy before you taunt, “Uh huh.”
“Mm…” Despite your laugh, you shake. “I wouldn’t do that, doll.”
“Make me. Bet you can’t.”
Tensed and veins angry, Yoongi grips both your tits before snarling, “That’s enough.”
Swiftly, he shoves you down into the sheets, muscular frame pinning you as he strokes up into you just right. Again. Again. It’s all too slow and too effective and you’re trying to stay mad but all you can feel is perfection, your back arching at his thrusts and mewling at his low growls in your ear.
“You wanted this.” Another thrust. “Talking shit.” Your jaw goes slack. “Pissing me off.”
Your groan is downright erotic. Why why why? Just knowing you’re making him this mad flutters your cunt and, from the sinister chuckle shooting into your neck, Yoongi definitely felt that.
“Fuckin’ thought so.”
When he reaches to grab your breasts, the last thrust has you crying out in a flurry of pleasure.
Every single thought is Yoongi, from beginning to end in a biblical cycle of debauchery. Exertion leaves you slick, sweat coating the expanse of your skin only to press into his bed, your mess your mess your mess. At his hands. The smacks of his cock. The rolls of his hips. Are you gone? Are you here? If he’s bruised then you feel like you are, too, and you welcome the temporary pain as Yoongi’s fingers dig ever deeper into your waist fuck one’s now pinning your head down.
The moans you let out are unending, and your thighs shake when all you get in response is a laugh of condescension.
“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.”
“Fuck you!” You’re close, you’re close, you’re close again. Release is at your fingertips, but Yoongi yanks himself out to rip it away from your outstretched fingers. “No!”
“What, doll.”
“Please!”
“Nah.”
Body sore, you’re flipped over with no mercy as something else presses against your cunt.
Fucking hell, he’s eating you out now? Shaking, you feel Yoongi’s tongue swirl around your thrumming clit before he sucks, edging you to the point of tears and heartbreak. And it proves too much as you grab at his head, yank at his hair, because he lets up when you’re close.
Every. Single. Time.
Your madness spirals into your curses, and he relishes in your despair, continuing to lick and suck and slap your thighs with patience. “What do you say?”
“Please!”
“Mm. Not loud enough.”
“Yoongi, please.”
“Oh, we’re saying names now?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, it aches. It’s starting to borderline hurt. “I’ll be good,” you barter, beg, plead with a head spinning off its own axis. “I’ll do anything.”
“Do it yourself then.”
Later, when you look back on tonight, you’ll be embarrassed and shy to hell. But right now, you’re so over any shyness that you don’t hesitate, reaching down to rub at your clit and moaning when it’s so sensitive.
And Yoongi gets a front row seat.
His groan is gutteral. And it doesn’t take you long to quicken your pace, bucking your hips and whining to the ceiling. You’re so so so close it’s right there—
Your hand is smacked away. And after you try to wrestle out of his grip, you are a flat out, blubbering mess. “Yoongi… Please…”
“Nah.”
This is torture. And you’re frightened at how much you’re enjoying it. “I’m so close.”
“You’ll come when I say you can.”
“Please! …Please..”
“You done being a brat?”
“No! Fuck. Yes!” If you weren’t so far gone, you may have deciphered a tiny smile of amusement. But it won’t be for months later until you’ll realize that you were wrong.
Because the menacing flash of teeth you see is much too wide to be anything other than pride. “The fuck did I say? Use your words.”
You know you’re still upset. You know Yoongi is still upset. But for some reason, you feel closer to him than you have in awhile, and you wonder if lust and madness are two sides of the same coin. “Let me come. Please.”
Yoongi finally obliges with something he hadn’t pleasured you with yet. And your vision blanks as you yelp at the sensation, his slick fingers pistoning into your folds so fast you’re arching so taut. From between your quivering legs, you hear one final command,
“Then fucking come.”
And you burst, so hard you almost feel like something threatens to spew from your cunt. But all you can do is shake and thrash under his grip, so erratic that you feel like Yoongi’s starting to pin you down. Gone, gone, gone, you’re sure the veins of your neck threaten to break through your sweaty skin.
Then you feel his cock thrust inside of you, and you whip your head forward only to get your airway cut off. “Again,” he calmly repeats, flinging you back to the last time this happened.
Only this time, there’s even less room for you to make any other choice.
“I said again.”
Your body cannot fathom disobedience, pulsing and milking his perfect fit. Over, and over, and over. You hear rumbling from a dragon above, feel breaths of steam whooshing as it watches you come undone.
“Yoongi—”
A light slap to your cheek is your only warning before your chin is tugged, lips smushing into yours to swallow your straining sobs. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your body is still thrumming, inundating around his cock until your emotions spill from your core. Toes. Fingers. Everything is straining and locking in place.
“So fucking hot.” He rips your soul right out. “Shit.”
You fly through time and space, gathering emotions and feelings and spiraling spiraling spiraling. Crying. You’re crying. Full on crying you’re so overwhelmed with everything truly you were so mean to him you upset him holy fuck you should’ve left when he told you to—
“Baby.”
But you cannot stop crying, choke choke gasping on sobs.
“Babe.”
“I—I—”
Your name stabs you with a crisp shot, coupled with a firm grip on your chin, snapping you back to lucid. And Yoongi’s eyes are frantically searching your own. “Look at me.”
You do. Do you? You do. And his eyes…
They’re not angry at all. It’s pure concern. Steadfast concentration. And something reflecting your soul. “Breathe.”
“Oh, shit,” you whisper, coughing and reaching for oxygen you didn’t know you were denying. Air rushes back into your lungs as you inhale.
“There you go. Keep going.”
You do, gulping down air and hiccuping a breath or two. Your cheek is being caressed, you think. And with another pass, you know it is.
“Relax for me.” And you hiccup a sob. “Breathe, babe.”
You do, you do, you do. Yoongi kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and you breathe more and more through it all. “You with me?”
“Always,” you answer, filter off because you are hanging by a thread and he’s holding the top. “Please don’t kick me out ever,” you hiccup. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything for you but I—could—never handle that—”
You’re tenderly hushed before lips slide over yours, attempting to swallow your thoughts and your sobs and your oncoming tears. As you flood his bed with apologies, Yoongi keeps wiping them all.
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“Babe.”
“You told me so many times—”
“Breathe, angel.”
You blink at the change in name, and it makes you focus just a bit stronger. Floating down from the precipice.
“I wasn’t kicking you out,” he slowly explains, kissing sweat from your forehead. His words feel like a calm, rock-filled river over your eyes. “I felt like an idiot and hated you seeing me like this.”
“Like what?”
“Just… Like this.”
“You’re perfect like this,” you hitch out, not caring about what flows out of your mouth. “So perfect. Always to me. I just wanted to help you, baby, I’m so sorry—”
He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out.
And so do more confessions, “I… I care about you. I think a little too much. If I lost you, I wouldn’t—be able—”
“I’m here.”
“So please don’t push me away.”
“I won’t.”
“I know you don’t make promises but—”
“I promise.” Without an ounce of doubt, Yoongi places a firm, lingering kiss on your temple. “Promise. Fuck.” As he holds you tight, you feel him shake before you hear the tiniest sniff at your ear.
Oh. He doesn’t need to be like this, too. You try to move your hand up between your bodies to comfort him, but your whole limb feels gelatinous. So you simply whisper, “It’s okay, baby.”
You can’t tell how long you lie like this, with his beautiful weight on yours. But time is irrelevant when your mind is unwinding from hours of whirring, starting to finally accept the fact that everyone is okay and you don’t have to be angry anymore.
“Come on,” Yoongi rasps, voice cracked and airy. “Let’s go.”
“Hmm?”
“Shower.”
“Oh. Okay.”
You’re so thrown and dizzy from what just happened that even getting to the bathroom is a blur. What you kinda feel is Yoongi holding you upright when your legs buckle, but you don’t remember when he leaves your side to turn the water on.
As he flips on the light, your eyes squeeze until they adjust, and you watch as he tests the water while fully clothed. Air conditioning starts to give you a chill, but the shower warms up just in time because he reaches out to guide you inside.
Wait. Is he not joining you? Bleary, you grab at his shirt when he steps away, eyes pleading. “Are you coming in, too?”
Yoongi stops before he gives a shake of his head. “I’ll take mine when you’re done,” he says through a slight smile. “We’ll take care of you first.”
That doesn’t make sense. Even in your depleting haze, you know something doesn’t add up. “You can join me now. I don’t mind.” When you try to lift his shirt, Yoongi visibly flinches when you brush over his ribs.
And all the murk around your head vanishes in a snap.
He kept his shirt on that whole time. Not once did your positions allow you to see his upper body fully. And now he’s not gonna get in the shower or take his shirt off?
Your voice lowers two octaves when you reach full clarity. “Let me see.”
Unblinking, Yoongi tries to back away, “Don’t worry—”
“Let me see it, baby,” you command, breath cut until he finally allows you to lift his shirt up holy fuck those injuries look so painful tears prick your eyes. “Oh, my god, Yoongi—”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re hurt.” You feel these wounds deep in your ribs, and you tell him to get your kit what the hell he fucked you while feeling those?
Attempting to alleviate your stress, Yoongi decides to strip fully and step into the shower, ignoring your pleas to grab your med kit and promising you can take care of him when you’re done washing up.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, doll.”
“Are you sure?”
“Promise.”
And when his arms wrap around you, this is when you finally let go. Huge, chest-wracking sobs echo around tile, and Yoongi stays quiet through your cathartic release.
There’s another reason you were so upset. And it has nothing to do with any of them, but with yourself. The main reason you’ve been so riled up and frustrated is because… This is technically your fault, too.
But, unsurprisingly, he won’t let you take any blame whatsoever.
“You got hurt cus I said to play.”
“Nope.”
“I wore the outfit that day.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“And lost my friends at the club.”
“No.”
Sniffling in quick succession, you think about one other option. Some form of closure that can double as compromise. Voice soft, you suggest the last resort you have,
“How about we share it.”
Yoongi blinks twice before he clarifies, “You wanna share the blame?” When you nod, he huffs through the tiniest smile of confusion. “Mm. Then it’s our fault.”
“Okay.”
After shaking his head, he closes his eyes, molding his forehead with yours. “What are you doing to me.”
A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.”
His laughs join yours as you barely get your sentence out before giggling, and to feel him so close and present and here makes your worries slink down the drain.
Hands trace down your arms, walking along falling rivers before creating ponds with your fingers intertwined. “Gonna clear me out someday.”
“Duh.”
He’s himself again.
And after a whole night of chaos, you feel like yourself again, too.
That’s all you both need to feel peace.
-
-
You keep that tranquility carrying you through his room, peeking into his closet to grab the biggest shirt and sweats you can find before drying your head.
But no matter how much water you can dry, your body will keep being washed in relief. And it’s the calmest feeling, watching as Yoongi does the simplest things near his bed.
Your lips curve when he pulls up his pants; your heart beats when he grabs a tee. It’s in this moment that you admit that these outfits of his are your favorites, and you gravitate to him as he slips cotton over his damp head.
“Come on,” you softly offer as you turn. “I’ll make food and get you some ice.”
Again, Yoongi just stares with a faint smile. But his eyes are alive again, so you’re more than fine if he just follows your lead without a word.
In the kitchen, you pause amongst the appliances, the cabinets watching as you utilize your phone to find a good recipe. “What shall we eat… Stew? Or, wait—”
Looking up, you eye him in thought before choosing to focus on something else. “Actually, let’s figure you out first.”
Opening yet another tab to add to your hundreds, you type away before selecting a good starting point. “Okay, let’s see. You’re breathing fine, so no bruised ribs. Umm…”
Scroll, scroll.
“It looks really bad there, though. You sure you can move right?”
Despite asking, you go right back to your phone before Yoongi can even respond. Scrolling and clicking and reading again.
Scroll, scroll.
“Okay, so no bruised ribs, and according to this you don’t have any broken bones. And nothing fractured, either, thank god—”
“I love you.”
Time bursts.
Your chest glows.
Everything starts to beat, beat, beat in slow motion.
And you don’t even feel like you’re in the room anymore. “…What?”
You need to hear it again. You need to need to need to, because if you heard him wrong, you will check yourself and bolt right out the door.
His eyes.
Despite the battlefield on his skin, they are dripping, and sparkling, and full. The whole world suspends as he stares right into your soul, caressing it with his wounded hands and cradling it in his bruised arms.
No matter how hard the moon will try—for years, and years, and years more—it will never outshine this single, shaken, solidified admittance.
“I love you, doll.”
You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to fucking do.
Why is Yoongi saying this now? Why is he choosing now of all times to make you the happiest person in the universe?
No.
Happiness isn’t even close to what you feel and you’re pretty sure you’re crying but nothing makes sense and your vision plunges under sunlit waters.
“And you don’t have to say anything. I know I don’t deserve to.”
What?
“I can’t be everything you want. Or need. Or whatever the fuck I’m trying to say. But I just needed you to know because I can’t fucking fight this shit anymore—”
You lunge forward before he offers his last syllable, careful to avoid his wounds and not mush his face because he would do the same for you.
And it’s all too much tonight. The lingering fear, the dying anger, the floods of relief, the joy. You can’t stop your sobs from coming out in bursts, your whole body wracking with overwhelming emotion as he grits into your skin,
“Goddamn it, I—”
“Yoongi—”
“—so fucking much.”
Yoongi loves you. He’s here. He loves you, loves you, loves you and the beats of your heart pulse orange and blue, blue, blue.
Nothing will ever compare to this moment. Nothing. You will bottle this one up in a jar to place next to all the others you have stored, and when you are lonely, or hurt, or even when you’re doing just fine, you will uncork it to surround yourself with this memory and know that everything will be okay.
He loves you.
Fuck, he loves you?
You choke out his name with a sob, and he squeezes you even harder. When you can’t reply with anything else, he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, his tears taking root and blossoming into beautiful vibrant fruit all along your rib cage.
He loves you.
Why can’t you seem to say it back? What the fuck is wrong with your tongue?
Maybe it’s because saying it doesn’t feel like enough. Like it’s laughable that there are words for this feeling because they don’t nearly represent what you harbor in your very being for this man.
There’s no way any words are enough. Not for him. Nor for you. Because right now, Yoongi needs something more. And you’re going to give him more than everything.
“Yoongi, I—”
He captures your lips in his, and you let him push you against his counter and consume you everywhere he wants to. Between his claims, your sobs have room to breathe. Which makes for a horrible showing of your attempting to say what you want to. “I… I can’t… Yoongi—”
Fingers press into the back of your head, a forehead smushing into yours and shutting you up completely. “I’m sorry,” he says, words rolling down the tracks your tears have walked. “I won’t ever be able to say that enough.”
“Baby,” you hiccup, resting a hand over one of his. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.”
“It is.” You squeeze his hand, feeling the lovely digs of his knuckles in your palm. His scent wafts around you like an embrace, and you know there’s nothing quite like it. At all. “You’re okay, so I’m okay.”
After he plants a warm kiss on your temple, you feel his hands ball into fists at your ears. “I just—fuck.”
There’s no telling what he’s thinking about in that brain of his. But you need him to know that there’s nothing more for him to be sorry for. All you care about is that he’s present, responding, and himself.
“Babe,” you whisper, still not believing those three words coming out of his mouth. “I’m here.”
“I know.” He sighs, smushing into your lips and holding you so tenderly, yet so tight. As he laps at your tongue, you’re more than sure he can taste your rainfall.
None of this is real. Because you can’t believe it at all. Even as Yoongi continues his journey across your neck, your shoulders, your jaw, your face, you still can’t piece together that this is truly happening.
When you feel him hard on your pelvis, you remember that he didn’t get the same release you got earlier. But you’re not gonna be the one to suggest going again, all of this will be what he decides.
And what Yoongi decides is to pull you closer, breathing you in while you do the same. His kisses are never ending, and your hands roam languidly along his shoulders, his hair, stretching across the expanse of his back. One that has held the weight of the world and then some.
His name leaves your mouth in a sigh, your back arching as softly as the kisses being planted along your breasts.
“If you only knew,” he whispers, laughing to himself as he wraps an arm around your side.
“Knew what?”
“Nothing, babe.” You gasp into his next rough press to your lips. “You’re so—fuck.”
You said you’d let him lead. But as Yoongi starts to walk you into his bedroom again, you think about his injuries and feel more concerned after knowing they’re there. So you quietly stop him as you reach his bed, “Are you sure?”
“I’ll be alright, doll,” he whispers, lowering you down and smiling so tranquilly your heart lurches. “As much as I think you enjoyed the first time, this time will be better.”
Giggling, you fight the heat from searing your cheeks as you smile. “You enjoyed it more than I did, I think.”
“I don’t think so.” Yoongi smirks, getting up. “Lemme get a cond—”
“It’s okay,” you halt him with a hand, and he freezes.
Full stop. No movement. Not even a breath. “...What?”
“We don’t…” You swallow, stomach fluttering at his expression. “We don’t have to this time.”
Because Yoongi’s eyes have not left your face. “You sure?”
Then something causes you to smile. Knowing that if there’s anyone you want to do this with, it’s this man right here and now. There’s genuinely no one else in the world with whom you would wanna share this experience, and the fact that he’s still asking makes you emotional.
Cradling his face with the most tender touch you can imagine, you confirm, “Just for a little bit.” And you add something you think he needs to keep hearing. “I trust you.”
Gulping down any extra emotions spilling from your heart’s chalice, your words come out a little wobbled. “And I want to, if you want it, too.”
“I want what you want, doll.”
“Then it’s okay.”
Clothes on or off, you still feel so shy underneath him.
But this time, you vow to shove those feelings of unworthiness to the side. Because you are fully invested in this moment above all others. And Yoongi deserves more than you can give.
When he slowly tugs his sweats from your legs, you’re already choking back tears. As he climbs on top, you await the connection you never in your dreams would’ve imagined.
And when Yoongi stares at you one more time, you know exactly what he’s asking.
“Yes, my love,” you wisp into his skin, craning up to kiss him and swallowing his last slice of doubt. Knowing you’ll say it again and again and again.
His brows pinch as he kisses you—slow, purposeful, understanding. Then he positions himself, and you can physically feel his hand brush your cunt as he does so. If he ever asks if you felt him shake, you will deny it. But only for a year or two.
As soon as you feel him—only him, solely him—you swell with a current of emotion. And it pulls you all the way under when he’s fully sheathed inside.
“Holy fucking shit.”
“Yoongi—”
“Fuck.”
Simply having him inside, with no barriers or obstacles in between? You’re already close. There’s no early explanation, but you already feel overwhelmed enough to come.
No no no. You want this to last forever, so you wait for Yoongi to gather himself because he appears to be fighting, too.
Chuckling, you ask, “You good, baby?”
And your lover snaps his gaze to your face, bangs sweeping across your cheeks and eyes unblinking. “Yeah, just...” He stares at your inquisitive expression before whooshing out a harsh breath. “Just this is about to make me bust.”
You burst into laughter before admitting you were just thinking the same thing, and his slow grin makes you want to cry. “We’re not good at this.”
“No. You’re too good at this. I can’t even move.”
“Yes, you can,” you whine. “You wreck my shit all the time.”
Feeling a twitch more prominent than ever, you giggle as Yoongi puffs out pained amusement. “Doll, if you keep talking like that, I’m pulling out.”
“Okay, okay,” you surrender, loving how out of sorts he seems. He’s fighting for his life and you’re enjoying the hell out of it.
“You’re a little too perfect right now.”
Maybe one day you will agree with him. But that day is far from reach, your head shaking in quiet disagreement.
“You are.”
“Nowhere close,” you whisper.
His nose brushes against yours. “Say that again and see what happens.”
“Is that what you tell all the others fuck!”
His shove up your cunt makes you see stars. “What did I fuckin’ say?”
“What—”
Another launch has you careening through space, lip bitten and suppressing a hearty whine. “You think there’s someone else?” Again. “Hmm?”
Again.
You’re so dazed and mind-fucked to pieces that your speech is barely audible. But your chin is grabbed as you’re snapped straight, and your eyes try their hardest to focus on slitted ones above. “You’re gonna regret saying that.”
You just laugh, whine pinging sharp into the ceiling as he shoves forward so hard your whole body shifts upward. “Oh, yeah?”
Yoongi doesn’t respond with words, thrusting up again and sending you twisting and winding towards the edge unbelievably fast. “Uh huh.”
“Make me then,” you gasp out. “Make me really sorry.”
The sound Yoongi makes comes from deep within his stomach, the rumbling hum shooting right into your veins like liquid fire.
And the full-on attack he bursts into renders you completely speechless. Everything Yoongi does pulls you deliciously in all directions—his thrusts, his chain hitting his chest, his grip on your wrists, the way he snags your chin. Everything.
“Taking me so well like this.”
“I—”
“So fucking tight.”
Fuck fuck fuck it’s habitual for you at this point, and you unhinge your jaw a split second before he smacks the side of your face. Desire lowers your lids halfway as you feel empowered, and you don’t even recognize your voice as you order him on the spot. “Do it again.”
Yoongi doesn’t stop his pace as he keeps his eyes on you.
“Do it again,” you growl, fully limp and a groaning mess when he does exactly what you want.
Fuck, the pain feels good. So good that you reach up and choke him out. But the back of your head is grabbed before you feel hungry lips smash into yours. You feel your wrists pinned again by one large palm, air chilling for a moment before a hot mouth captures one of your nipples. “Oh, fuck, Yoongi!”
“Uh uh.”
“Please—please—”
You’re still tensing as he devours your chest below his shirt, strokes now slower but just as powerful.
Your arms still haven’t been freed, but there’s something about being under his control that has you loving this position. Without question. Maybe it’s the fact that you can see him now, losing himself just as he saw you washes in the throes of passion.
And he licks, sucks, lolls his tongue all over your tits, whispered praises sinking through your bosom as he keeps a grip on your wrists.
“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—”
“Shit.” Air whooshes over you before you feel your arms freed and him yank himself out, and you freeze as he unloads right on your stomach, a sharp cocktail of pride and shock in your gut.
Holy fuck, Yoongi was that close? Did he hold out as long as he could? Shit, he’s breathing so hard his jewelry shakes as it dangles.
You’re still so surprised that your arms are still locked into bends, and he glances up at you from his kneeled state. “Fuck,” he laughs, and is that… Is Yoongi shy? “Thought I could hold out.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure through your own tiny chuckle. “Oh my god, I promise.”
He leans down to plant a heart fluttering kiss on your lips, but you hate how he looks pained on the way down.
Those hits he took… Now you kinda understand his perspective. Because now you want to avenge him in five hundred thousand ways—almost half as many ways as you want to show him how you feel.
“Stay there, beautiful,” Yoongi orders as he moves to get off the bed, wincing in passes. “I’m not done with you.”
Damn. He looks even more exhausted than before. “Baby, are you sure?”
But Yoongi walks right to his bathroom to retrieve a towel, and your eyes may as well transform into hearts when you watch him come back to you. So handsome, even now. Even when he’s simply holding a washcloth, hair completely mussed, soul sparkling and face bruised.
As he sits to clean your face before moving to your stomach, you can only observe his eyes. So experienced. Calm. At peace. When they drift to yours, it’s instinct that has you shying away. “What, love.”
Another reason to crumble inside. “I just… nothing,” you whisper.
And Yoongi finishes with the cloth before tossing it somewhere. “Tell me,” he says, lying down on the ribs with more damage. “I wanna know.”
“Come on this side,” you tell him, and he obliges without a word. “It’s a secret.”
“A secret?”
“Mmhmm.”
Yoongi settles before lifting your chin, rubbing an affectionate thumb over any tears still persevering on your cheeks. “I can keep those, you know.”
Smiling, you fold way too easily. “Okay, I’ll tell.”
When he leans in, your nervousness and excitement to tell him almost spoils your ability to do so. Like someone gifting a present while wanting to say what it is before it’s even opened.
“I love you, too,” you whisper, tears sprinting to your ducts as Yoongi freezes. When he looks at you, you can’t help but choke on a sob seeing his eyes get as red as the marks on his cheek. “And you deserve more than I could ever give.”
His eyes hold the heavens and the seas.
You’re right. Just saying it isn’t fucking enough.
You’re already liplocked again before you can think, saltwater on your face and you don’t even know whose eyes it came from.
Determined, Yoongi starts kissing a trail from your lips to your jaw, and you start to cry as he makes his own journey down the expanse of you.
All of you.
Is this what it feels like? Is all of this actually, genuinely real?
You hope so, because you feel devotion in each press of his lips, and every touch will be remembered in its own right. Its own pocket of time.
Every single stop.
It almost feels divine when his mouth reaches your folds, lapping at your essence and swirling around your clit. When you say his name, Yoongi says nothing, instead palming your thighs and eating you out like he has all the time in the world.
Swelling, you already feel close.
But the way he gets you to fantasia is so natural that you slide into your quivers seemlessly. The transition into your heaven flows like a stream, and your waves engulf his tongue and coat his mouth without trouble.
This is what it feels like. What it feels like with Yoongi.
And you wanna keep making love until only sleep can take you from him.
Your hands jut into his hair, gasping as he keeps his pace, and no matter how you squirm he is dead set on holding you down until holy fuck you’re coming again.
How? What’s happening to you? This constant stream of release is shocking you to the point of crying out, and Yoongi groans into your orgasm and prolongs it with the whole press of his tongue.
“Holy fuck, baby—!” Another wave overcomes the next, and you outright quake in his hands, eyes rolling and vision blinking white. Muscles lock as you can’t keep up with the pleasure, and you’re mercilessly let go only for lips to descend on yours.
Your tears spill into your ears as you kiss him back, wrapping tired arms over his shoulders and raking in deep.
“Fuck.” And you feel his cock lodge against your entrance, and you’re amazed how hard he is again.
Does he want what you want? Is he ready again?
As Yoongi quietly gets up to get a condom, you’re amazed that he wants to keep going after everything that’s transpired. But, if he feels like you do, he’s ready to keep going until the sun comes up three whole times.
When he sits next to you, your better half appears shy as he bites the wrapper. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”
“Oh, I already know.”
“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”
You bite your lip to hold back your smile, remembering what he said a long time ago and bringing it back full circle for the next thing you both wanna try. “One day.”
Yoongi only grins.
And for the next hour, your lover, your secret, your home gives you everything he has, and you come for him more times than you ever have in your life.
Every time, he drags your pleasure out, expertly tearing you down with his movements and building your confidence up with his words. He tells you you’re perfect, and he disagrees when you disagree. When you find tears on your face, he kisses those away, too. When you feel along his silver, he simply watches you in silence.
No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found.
After you physically can’t do any more, Yoongi lies at your side, silent as you play with his hair. You do your best to stay still, not wanting to accidentally push into any of his injuries that you’re gonna beg him to get checked in the morning.
Once he’s healed? That’s when you’ll never let go. Because you want to crush him into you completely. Mold into him, just so he can feel the brevity of your highest affection.
“I’m sorry for yelling,” you finally whisper. “But I really was so mad at you. All of you.”
“I know.”
“I don’t wanna lose you.”
“It won’t happen again.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
Yoongi stares, seeming to withhold something from you before he palms your cheek. “They were gonna follow us home if we didn’t, babe,” he reveals, snapping your heart back in two. “We all knew that.”
“Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.”
When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.”
Sniffling, you whisper out a thank you. But you don’t want Yoongi to feel like he has to distance himself, so you untangle him—slowly, gently–-before bringing him into your chest.
After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out,
“Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.”
Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer.
“Babe?”
No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet.
Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.”
If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.”
You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough.
Never close enough.
His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”
After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter.
“This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…”
It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything—
“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.”
When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.”
“Yoongi…”
“It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.”
“Then… Those three months…”
“One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.”
Many things have shifted tonight. As if an earthquake had upturned everything between the both of you, only peace has settled in its wake. A peace you had never felt before. As you brush fingers through his hair, you joke, “So I can come to those parties you host, too?”
“Those weren’t my idea, by the way. Jimin made me.” Kissing your shoulder, Yoongi continues to admit, “He was worried. And hoping you would show.”
Oh. That’s news to you.
“I knew you wouldn’t. But.” He exhales before nestling in further. “I did hope to see you, too.”
“It’s okay.” You rub the back of his neck, your fingers feeling nothing but warmth and the softness of his clothes. “It would’ve been too obvious.”
“What would’ve.”
“That I wanted you all to myself.”
“You already have that.”
When you stiffen, your words are tiny. “You know what I mean.”
Yoongi laughs soft, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up for a kiss as you blurt, “My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.”
The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”
“I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.”
“What if he does?”
You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?”
Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.”
“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?”
“Who do you think you bought those groceries for?”
Oh. Wait. “What?”
Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?”
Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that.
Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops.
“One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”
Of course he will. You have no doubts. But, just like he always does for you, you’re gonna start offering the same reassurance out loud, even if he knows it’s there.
And you can’t contain your little laughs at your own joke, despite him just staring into your face right after you crack it, “Don’t make it just one day, silly.”
Even if you’re very serious, it’s in your nature to lighten things up. Especially after hearing such wonderful news for what’s coming. Clutching a little bit of his shirt, you whisper with complete devotion,
“We’ll make it as many as we can.”
You hate how you feel him freeze, knowing what that means, what plaguing little thoughts are embedded in that tiny shift.
Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.
Because you are, too. In many ways. But this man has been picking you up and making you stronger day after day—in both his presence and absence—that you can’t help but fight to do the same.
Does he ever think about you? Does he know that you’ll always be with him? No matter how close or far apart you are? You hope so. Because it’s so true that your heart is searing that promise into your soul, branding it as a reminder to reciprocate all this genuine love you’ve never been given before.
He loves you?
You still can’t accept that as fact.
…Maybe one day.
You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.”
It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.”
Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!”
“Lies.”
“How much are you betting, doll.”
“How much are you willing to lose, babe.”
“This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.”
“You did threaten to kick me out before.”
“Huh? When?”
“That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.”
The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!”
He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.”
“Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.”
“You love it.”
“I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.”
“No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.”
“Guess what.”
Suddenly paranoid, you give him a look, already expecting to be tricked again.
But Yoongi captures your lips without warning, curling your toes into sheets you’re now achingly familiar with. After a few passes, he shifts above, planting a hand at your side and letting his chain slide against your chest as he slots a leg in between yours.
Yet again, you think about that first night, that first time. The first of apparently, surprisingly, wonderfully unexpectedly many.
Who would’ve thought rain and a broken ego would bloom into something good? Who would’ve believed a person so close to your roots would be your home?
As he lets up with one last slow stroke of his tongue, you whisper, “What were you gonna say?”
At this, Yoongi spreads closed lips, taking his time planting a peck on your nose. “I just fucking love you, doll.”
Oh. He’s a menace and the most annoying tease on the planet.
When you can’t do anything but flee into his chest, Yoongi immediately laughs, forcing you back out of your little shell. “You can’t hide now, babe.”
“I can!”
Leaned forward in your struggle, you give him no choice but to swoop his head into your neck. Which backfires on you immensely because he decides it’s the perfect time to rasp deep against your ear, “I love fucking you, too.”
His name flies out of your mouth in disbelief and embarrassment, and his heightened amusement puffs into the burning column below your chin.
This is the moment something comes over you. Slams into you. Washes you in present nostalgia like lingering footsteps on a balcony.
And it hurts. It really, really hurts.
Instead of laughing along, you come down from your high, squeezing him like the pillow that couldn’t replicate his warmth for months. “I miss you.”
After a second, Yoongi questions, “How? I’m right here.”
You know that. You do. But with every hello there’s a goodbye, and you don’t want that this time. Especially now that your heart knows that his beats the same.
Breathy and shaken, you rest your head in his chest, hoping he doesn’t hear but does at the same time, “I still miss you.”
Strong fingers weakly press into your sides, and while you can’t see him, you know for a fact that his smile is gone. Because he also knows goodbye is coming again, and you can’t stay here forever as long as this is all a secret.
You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.”
…What?
No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything—
“I wanna do this the right way.”
Oh.
Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking.
Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?”
When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.”
Oh. Oh, shit. Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden…
Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself.
When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides.
And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.
“I’ll tell him everything.”
-
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tbc. :)
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so... how did it go! | join the server!
a/n: so. here we are, over two years and 250k+ words later. thank you for sticking with me if you're still here, and thank you for being the most amazing readers a writer could ever, ever ask for. if you can interact or let me know what you enjoyed/like, i would be eternally grateful. these two parts took all of me, and i'm gonna take a break for a little bit before starting on the next part.
a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! things have really weighed on me for awhile, which prevented me from working on this part forreal. but my mental feels a lot lighter now, and i am ready to keep running with y'all. so thank you for your support and encouragement, no matter how you show it!
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another sunny day — i. rin
handcuffed together + matchmaking gone wrong
synopsis. rin doesn't get how his "friends" can come up with such insane ideas. like, seriously. or: blue lock tries to play matchmaker with a flustered loser and their terribly unfriendly teammate.
wc. ~1.1k
— for @jenoutof10 🤞 | event masterlist ✉️
"don't be mad, but..."
rin's eye twitches.
4 words. 4 measly words is all it takes for his blood pressure to start rising. that, and the fact that isagi can't meet his bloodthirsty gaze.
in all the time that he's had the displeasure of knowing these morons, he's come to know one simple fact: nothing good ever happens when they break news starting with 'don't be mad'.
before his teammates can even get a chance to explain further, rin interjects.
"you lost it, didn't you? you fucking lost it."
bachira's lips just press into a thin line, mischief missing from his expression where it usually permanently dances. now, he just looks utterly terrified and a little guilty.
"hey, but there are worse people to be cuffed to!" bachira nervously states. and at that, all eyes land on you.
you'd been hoping that maybe rin's temperment would have drawn all attention away from you right now—that they at least wouldn't have to witness the absolute despair in your face realizing you've been cuffed to your long-term crush for an indefinite amount of time.
but their eyes are heavy on you, trying to scrutinize your reaction. you want nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow you whole.
the chains connecting you jingle impossibly loud as silence fills the room. you flounder slightly, caught off guard by the collective weight of everyone's eyes, and rin seems to understand how dire your situation is. he quickly gathers everyone's attention back to himself.
"you all better crawl on your hands and knees until you find that fucking key."
to think that an entire group of people could have gone through with something so stupid—rin doesn't get how his "friends" can come up with such insane ideas. like, seriously. handcuffing the two of you together as a last ditch attempt to solve the last puzzle of their escape room? he would probably be laughing at their idiocy if he wasn't the one locked to your side right now.
and why him, of all people? was it so obvious that he was maybe, kind of, sort of a little into you? no, impossible. he's incredibly good at hiding his feelings for you, so much that he's completely stone-faced while you're busy panicking beside him.
what should have been an innocent team-building exercise put together by their calm and collected manager has suddenly turned you into a blithering fool and him into a cranky asshole.
he'd always had suspicions that you'd liked him, never able to look him straight in the eye without fidgeting and messaging him out of the blue for seemingly insignificant reasons. ("did you try the new garigari-kun flavour?" or "i saw this cat that reminded me of you," and even "did you eat dinner yet?")
if you had told his teammates, you made a grave error. a fatal mistake. because they were all half-wits who would want nothing more than to try playing cupid, and he knows that only they could come up with a plan so stupid and still claim it to be foolproof.
frantically searching for the key, they get to work scouring the floor and drawers—anywhere they could have left it in the last twenty minutes. he takes the opportunity to focus on his breathing, as his therapist had advised him to do when he was feeling overwhelmed with emotion.
"you okay?" rin asks quietly, lathering a hand down his face in exasperation. you hum nervously, clutching yourself instinctively. it draws his hand closer to your body but he doesn't mention it, instead letting it dangle limply in front of you. the warmth emanating from you makes him realize just how frazzled you are.
he decides he should guide you to the next room where it's quieter, all the puzzles already solved and abandoned. he sits you down on the sofa, standing in front of you with your hands connected in the middle.
"what if we're locked together forever?" you murmur.
rin looks at you in confusion, perplexed by your sudden loss of functioning brain cells. you were always so rational, it's strange to see you so...
you meet his intense stare and the rest of his train of thought derails into a disastrous dumpster fire.
"i... don't think that'll happen."
"but what if we are?"
"there are worse people i could be locked to."
silence suffocates you. rin blinks at you, but doesn't back down as you fumble over your own tongue.
"you think so?" you finally manage out.
god almighty, you need to break this eye contact before he shrivels up and dies. okay, so maybe his feelings for you aren't entirely miniscule, but that doesn't mean he's going to get any enjoyment out of this.
he scoffs, gesturing to the next room. "at least it's you and not them."
you sputter in embarrassment, hand yanking toward your face as you try and cover your cheeks with your palms. his hand follows, nearly smacking you in the nose but you don't seem to care or even notice.
he slowly seats himself beside you, dragging your conjoined hands back between your bodies and settling on the couch.
"i hate this," you admit. "it feels claustrophobic."
rin knows exactly what you mean. your hand is inches away from being in his—he can hardly breathe. he would rather eat natto every day for the rest of his life than come to terms with that, though, so instead he just sneers at you funny.
"you have claustrophobia?"
"i just mean that we're so close right now."
"so?"
you gulp loudly. "and—" you sigh, breaths shaking. "well, you're sort of right. i guess it could be worse."
"...you're weird," he tells you.
your lips quirk up into a tiny smile, so small that he would have missed it if he weren't chained to your side right now. for a moment, he almost forgets all about why he's even in this situation in the first place.
"sorry," you stammer, fingers fumbling around with the hem of your sweater. "i hope they find that key soon."
he stares at you for a few more seconds, tries to trace the outline of your face with his eyes and memorize the curve of your smile.
"yeah," he lies. "me too."
("is it working?"
"i don't know, i can't hear them!"
"shh," chigiri hisses. "i'm trying to listen!"
rin puts his head into his hands at their volume, bringing your hand along with his motion. he glares in their direction, catching a glimpse of his team stacked on top of each other as they peer into the room.
"idiots..." he mutters. you look at him, puzzled. "i'm surrounded by idiots.")
© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
#— whispers in the wind: 1k event ✉️#so remember when i said i would be out of commission for a bit#that was a fucking lie#blue lock#bllk#blue lock fluff#blue lock drabbles#itoshi rin fluff#itoshi rin#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin x you#itoshi rin x y/n#rin itoshi#rin itoshi x reader#rin itoshi x you#rin itoshi x y/n#bllk fic#bllk x reader#bllk x you#bllk x y/n#blue lock x reader#blue lock fic
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Teach me (Chris Sturniolo x y/n)
Part.2 Part.3
Masterlist.
Warning: Virgin reader, Smut content, don’t like it = don’t read it :)
Summary: Chris shows up in the middle of the night in your room, asking for answers to the exam you both are supposed to take in the following days, and things take an unexpected turn.
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
We are on a summer Tuesday evening, the air warm and heavy, the sound of cicadas outside, and the gentle breeze causing tree branches to brush against my window sill, absolute calm. The house was silent; it was already 11:25 PM, the only reason I wasn't asleep? I was busy revising for the upcoming major exam. Honestly, I didn't need to; I had the knowledge and even more, but I'm a perfectionist. Why settle for the minimum when you can achieve much more?
Anyway, I allowed myself to study a bit more tonight since I have no classes tomorrow. I had some music playing in the background, loud enough for me to hear but not too loud to distract me. Tonight, nothing could distract me!
*knock knock knock*
I jumped in surprise when I heard faint noises coming from the window at the other end of my room. I thought I was impossible to distract, but apparently, I was wrong.
I walked slowly towards the window; it was probably my cat scratching to come in. Well, I wasn't sure; what else could it be?
I pulled the curtain covering my window to open it and came face to face with Chris Sturniolo.
WAIT, WHAT? What is that rascal Chris doing at my window? Oh my god, if my parents hear him, I'm done for.
Let me give you a brief recap to better understand the situation and the reason for my current anxiety.
My name is Y/n, and honestly, there's not much to say about me. I'm a quiet girl, the complete opposite of what one would consider "cool" and "popular." I'm disciplined, polite, courteous, studious, discreet – in short, the perfect little girl who will have a good diploma, an excellent job in an excellent city, and an excellent family. I do what is expected of me without questioning, and I never, I repeat, NEVER go against the rules.
Chris, on the other hand, is Chris. If I were a boy, I would be absolutely the opposite of that guy. He plays on the high school lacrosse team with his brother. He's a real jerk – sorry, I don't want to sound vulgar, but he's a real jerk. He spends his time skipping classes to do who knows what with who knows who. He thinks he's "cool" and "popular" because all the girls run after him, but the truth is, he's just a good-looking guy with a devilish behavior. Back in elementary school, I had a crush on him; when he found out, he mocked me, and he never stopped, even now in high school. So, yes, he's an immature jerk.
What could Chris possibly be doing at my window in the middle of the night when my parents are at home? My father has always been strict about no boys in my room, and certainly not in the middle of the night?
"Are you going to let me in?" he said, looking up at me.
"Absolutely not! How do you know where I live? You can't stay here; you have to leave now!" I shouted in a panic, looking around to make sure no one saw him here.
"Let me in, and I'll answer all your little questions," he said with a smirk.
"Oh my god," I whispered to myself, bringing my hand to my forehead. "No, Chris, you don't understand; my parents are here. If they know there's a boy at my window—"
"Okay, if you don't let me in, I'll knock on the front door, pretending to be your boyfriend. It's up to you," he said, cutting me off before moving away from my window.
"NO! Okay, fine, come in," I sighed. "Damn, damn, damn," I muttered to myself as I moved away from the window to lock the door to my room.
"Your room is cool," he said, dropping onto my bed as if it were his own. "What's his name?" he added, picking up a stuffed animal lying on my bed.
"Get your filthy body off my clean bed, please," I snapped, grabbing my stuffed animal from his hands with a brisk motion.
"Relax; I just wanted to chat," he said, rolling his eyes before getting up to move towards me. "Nice pajamas," he said with a smirk, scanning my body with his eyes.
I blushed uncontrollably; I was wearing really short shorts and an equally short tank top. What? It's fine; I know what you're thinking. I'll stop you right there; it's summer, it's super hot, and I didn't anticipate Mr. Troublemaker's surprise visit.
"What do you want?" I asked timidly, stuttering and crossing my arms to hide my stomach. I hated having my body exposed in front of others; it made me feel vulnerable.
"I need your help for the exam coming up next week," he said, moving towards my desk. "And before you refuse to help me, I have an offer you can't refuse!" he said, turning to me, leaning against my desk this time.
"And did you have to come and ask for my help in the middle of the night, Chris, seriously?" I replied, annoyed.
"I stole the test papers from the teachers' lounge. If you help me, you can memorize all the answers by heart," he said, crossing his arms with a smug smile.
I laughed when he presented his "impossible to refuse" offer. What an idiot. "If you think that I, Y/n, will help you cheat on the most important exam of the year, you're way dumber than I thought."
"Oh yeah? You seemed pretty bothered by the bad grade you got in gym yesterday," he said, advancing towards me. "You know, I know the coach really well, well enough to be able to change your grade."
Damn, it was the only grade below average I had all year. It's true that it would be convenient to make it disappear. What? No, Y/n, you're crazy; this is Chris we're talking about, he's a manipulator, and you're falling into his trap. Oh my god, stop; I need to get him out of here.
"Why do you want me to help you? Find the answers yourself," I replied, giving him a dark look.
"Because I don't feel like it, and you love this kind of thing," he said, rolling his eyes. "Y/n, it's beneficial for both of us. Look, you ensure you get 100% on the exam, in addition to seeing your gym grade increase, and it will save me from repeating this year."
"Get out of my room, Chris; I'm not going to help you cheat. It's bad," I said, crossing my arms.
"Bad? Who do you think you are? Come on, we don't care; it's just an exam!" he said, laughing.
"You don't care, but I do," I said, pointing to the window he came in through.
He smiled arrogantly before licking his lips, looking at me. "You're more tenacious than I thought," he said, plunging his eyes into mine. "I like that."
I won't lie; his words made me a little nervous at the moment. Okay, I said he was a big jerk,
not that he was ugly!
"Oh, are you blushing because of me? Does what I say affect you?" he said, slowly approaching me.
"G-Get out of my room," I said weakly, stepping back.
"Why? You don't want me to leave your room, Y/n. Don't lie to me; I know you like me," he said confidently, continuing to advance towards me until my back hit the door of my room.
I swallowed hard as I felt my throat tighten due to the proximity between us. "You're insane. I would have to be crazy to like a guy like you," I said timidly, avoiding his gaze.
"I'm sure I can drive you crazy," he said, grabbing my chin to force me to look him in the eyes.
A wave of heat engulfed me; I slightly opened my mouth to get more air. My heartbeat accelerated; I must be all red now.
"Listen," he said, getting even closer to me. "If you help me with this exam," he said, placing his hand in the small of my back, "in addition to the things I've already offered you," he said, slowly lowering his hand to my hip, "I can also show you a few things you might like," he said softly, plunging his eyes into mine.
I cleared my throat. "What are you talking about?" I said all timid.
"Oh, come on, Y/n, you know exactly what I'm talking about; you're dying for it. Look at yourself," he said with an arrogant smile. "And if you want to know, I'm dying for it too," he whispered in my ear, making my knees weak.
"Stop lying, you don't give a damn about me. You're acting like an asshole with me; you only want the answers to this exam," I said, stuttering and trying not to be swayed by his sweet words.
"Y/n, I know where you live because I follow you after school every day to make sure nothing happens to you on the way," he said, moving his face a few centimeters away from mine. "I spend my time teasing you in the hope of getting closer to you," he added, running his hand over my cheek. "If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't have even noticed the bad grades you're getting in PE," he said, rolling his eyes.
If these were lies, then he's a very good liar. Oh my god, my mother always warned me about bad boys like Chris, but I felt like fainting when his hand tightened a little more around my hip. "Chris—"
"You know what, screw this exam; I'll study it on my own. Let me kiss you, and I promise to leave your room and never bother you about this exam again," he said, almost sounding desperate. Wait, is he serious? Chris has a crush on me? I must be dreaming; it can't be possible.
"Chris, if this is a joke, it's really not funny," I said uncertainly, furrowing my brow when he moved his face closer to mine.
"I'm dead serious," he said, fixing his gaze on my lips.
My eyes were switching between his and his lips; I didn't know what to do. I was bewildered by the situation until Chris placed his soft lips on mine. My eyes instinctively closed to better savor the moment. I was kissing the most handsome guy in high school in my room, just like in the movies. His hand slid under my shorts to grab my buttock, making me sigh in surprise during our kiss. He seized the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, dancing with mine. He started smiling against my lips when he heard a pathetic moan die in our kiss as he began to knead my buttocks.
"Chris," I said, separating our lips and pushing him by his chest.
"What?" he said with a confused look as I moved away from him.
"We're not going to do this," I told him, shaking my head. "My parents are here; you can't just barge into my room in the middle of the night and coerce me with sex to get the answers to this damn exam," I said, offended.
"Y/n, I don't care about the exam. I did all this to get closer to you!" he said, taking a step towards me.
I stepped back when he tried to grab my hand to hold it in his. "Okay, prove it," I said, crossing my arms. "You said you would leave me alone about this exam and leave my room if I let you kiss me," I added, heading to the window to open it again.
He opened his mouth to speak before changing his mind, shaking his head.
"Show me you're not a liar," I said, pointing to the window.
He sighed before moving towards the window. "I'm not a liar, Y/n," he said, furrowing his brow before starting to pass his legs through the window.
There, I was finally rid of him. I should feel relieved, right? So why does something deep inside me break seeing him leave?
Without thinking, before he had time to pass through my window entirely, I grabbed him by his T-shirt to kiss him again. I couldn't let him go like that. I don't know what was happening to me, but everything was screaming at me to throw myself on his lips and never leave them.
He straightened up before closing the window with one hand. His other hand came to caress my cheek.
I had absolutely no idea what I was doing; we headed towards my desk without paying attention. He grabbed the back of my thighs to make me sit on my desk just behind me. His lips left mine to move towards my neck, his arms tightened around my waist, and my thighs surrounded his.
"Do you still want me to leave your room now?" he said arrogantly.
"Shut up," I said, feeling my breath quicken when he started sucking on the skin of my neck between his lips. "Chris, you can't leave marks," I said, a little panicked.
"Why not? You're mine," he said authoritatively, raising his face in front of mine and grabbing my throat in his hand.
"First, I'm not yours, Chris, and second, my father will kill me if he sees hickies on my neck," I said, chuckling timidly at his reaction.
Without a word, he began kissing my neck again before slowly moving towards my chest, making me anxious. "What are you doing?" I asked, stuttering.
"I'm leaving my mark where I'm sure no one else will see it," he whispered before grabbing the fabric of my tank top to slightly uncover my breast and place his lips on it.
"Chris—" I said, jumping when he started sucking a hickey on that sensitive area.
I could feel shivers running through my entire body; my back arched, and my thighs instinctively tightened around his waist while a few silent moans escaped my lips.
"Are you always this sensitive, or am I the one making you feel this way?" he said, raising his head towards me with a big smile.
I started blushing uncontrollably when he said that; I didn't even have a response to his question. I had never done anything like this with a boy before.
"Did you lose your tongue?" he asked, tilting his head to the side before coming to fix a strand of hair behind my ear.
"I-I don't know," I said in an almost inaudible voice. "Is it wrong?" I asked, embarrassed.
"No, not at all," he said, frowning. "What do you mean by 'I don't know'?" he asked, confused.
"I—" I didn't know what to answer. A silence settled at that moment; he looked me in the eyes before realizing.
"You've never done anything with a boy?" he asked, surprised.
I simply shook my head from side to side, too embarrassed to say anything.
His arrogant smile covered his lips a few seconds later. "Do you want me to teach you?"
My eyes widened when I heard that. I hesitated for a moment before nodding timidly.
"Use words, princess," he said, stroking my waist to encourage me to speak.
"I want you to teach me how to do it," I said, feeling a wave of confidence in myself.
He smiled before kissing me again; this time our kiss was slow and gentle, as if to reassure me. His hands played with the hem of my tank top. "Can I take this off?" he asked calmly.
"Take yours off first," I asked directly. I didn't want to be the only one exposed for some reason. My statement made him chuckle, and he separated from my lips to remove his t-shirt.
I took a moment to observe him. Unconsciously, I started biting my lips, and Chris smiled at my reaction. "It's your turn now," he said, moving towards me again.
Once again, I hesitated for a moment, looking into his eyes. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to, you know," he said without breaking eye contact.
His words were enough to make me feel comfortable. I took my tank top off over my head without overthinking it. "But I want to," I said before covering my chest, feeling a wave of embarrassment engulf me.
Chris immediately grabbed my arms. "You don't need to hide from me, Y/n," I let him remove my arms from the way, and he directed his eyes to my chest, licking his lips. "You're beautiful," he said before pressing his lips against mine once again.
I felt more and more at ease with him. My hands, which were previously at the back of his neck, started to travel along his chest down to his waist, where he hastily seized my wrist. "Slow down, princess."
"What? Did I do it wrong? Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?" I asked, panicking. He chuckled at my reaction.
"No, you didn't do anything wrong," he said, smiling. "We have all the time in the world, don't rush yourself," he whispered before kissing my neck again.
My hand found its place in his hair, and he gradually directed his kisses towards my chest, prompting me to throw my head back at the new sensation of his lips around my nipples.
One of his hands slipped between my thighs, making me jump and tilt my head forward at the proximity of his hand to my sensitive area.
He began to gently caress my pussy through my clothes, causing a silent moan to escape my lips.
I could feel my head starting to spin due to all this sudden stimulation; I couldn't help but squirm in all directions. "Can I take off your shorts?" he asked, looking up at me.
"Y-yes," I replied timidly before he slowly removed my shorts and resumed kissing me, this time moving down to my stomach, making me breathe harder.
He stopped kissing me when he reached the level of my white panties to examine them closely. "You're so wet that I can see the trace on your panties," he said with a smirk.
Embarrassment washed over me. "I'm sorry," I said softly, trying to close my thighs, but he grabbed them to force me to keep them open.
"Don't be," he said, bringing his head closer to my thighs. "I like it," he said, planting a kiss on my clothed pussy, making me shiver. "You're so sensitive; I bet I could make you come in less than 5 minutes with my tongue," he said, running his fingers between the fabric of my panties and my skin.
"Do you want me to do it?" he asked, looking up at me with a sly smile. I timidly nodded. "Say it," he said in a firm tone.
"What?" I asked, a bit embarrassed.
"If you want me to do it, you'll have to ask me, Y/n," he said arrogantly.
"Chris," I said in a frustrated moan; I could see his smile widening, amused by the situation. He returned to plant another kiss on my still-clothed pussy. "I-I want you to make me come with your tongue," I said, almost inaudibly moaning.
"Anything you want, princess," he said satisfied before removing my panties. I lifted my hips to help him, and he placed a few kisses around my sensitive area before putting my legs over his shoulders and diving his head between my legs.
The upper part of my body leaned forward slightly at the sensation of his lips around my clit. Instinctively, my hand pressed into his long, wavy hair, and I couldn't control the soft moans that escaped me. "Y/n, quiet down; your parents will hear you," he said, chuckling against me before getting back to work.
His tongue applied pressure to my clit, driving me wild. One of his hands reached for my breasts to play with them, mainly to prevent me from squirming all over my desk, which kept creaking. He moved his tongue in circular motions, gradually increasing the speed. After a few seconds, I felt something new in my lower abdomen, as if it were knotting due to the pressure. My thighs started to tighten slightly around his face without me realizing it. When I lowered my eyes to look at him, I could see his beautiful blue eyes already fixed on me, admiring me as if I were his last meal.
My eyebrows furrowed when all this stimulation started to take over. "Chris," I struggled to say in a weak voice; it felt like I was about to faint. "Oh my—fucking god," I said, throwing my head back and covering my mouth with my hand.
Chris didn't stop; on the contrary, he accelerated his movements, and his grip on my breasts became much firmer. He started moaning between my legs, and the vibrations of his moans against my clit were enough to push me over the edge. My legs began to tremble. "Fuck—Chris," I said before reaching orgasm on his face.
He slowed down the movement of his tongue before completely stopping to let me ride out my orgasm. "I told you," he said, straightening up and using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, "less than 5 minutes."
I chuckled at his remark, "You never stop boasting, huh?" I said with a smile, and his hands came around my cheeks before placing a chaste kiss on my lips.
"Never," he said, smiling before I reconnected our lips, making him smile at my hungry kiss. "What do you want?" he asked, separating our lips.
"I want to pleasure you too," I replied, playing with his necklace. He licked his lips, looking into my eyes.
"Is that what you want?" he asked, pressing his pelvis against mine to make me feel his erection through his pants, and I nodded.
"Yes, that's what I want," I said with an innocent look.
He immediately reconnected our lips without waiting a second longer, then grabbed the back of my thighs to carry me to my bed.
He gently placed me at the edge of the bed before leaning forward to kiss me again. "If you want us to stop, let me know," I brought my hands to his belt to remove it while he looked at me with desire.
I lowered his pants and stared at his erect member. Suddenly, panic resurfaced. "You don't have to do this," he said, bringing his hand to my cheek.
I looked up to meet his reassuring gaze. "I don't know how to do it," I said timidly, "but I want to." I added, placing my hand on his thigh.
"Do what feels right, I'll guide you," he said, never taking his eyes off me, as I slid down his boxers to his ankles.
The apprehension and stress were still there, but it was too late; after all, I was already committed. I really wanted it; I was just terribly afraid of messing up. I stopped overthinking and took his member in my hand, giving him a look to make sure I wasn't doing anything wrong. He nodded to indicate I should continue. I began hesitant strokes with my hand, eliciting a moan from his mouth.
His hand came to caress the top of my head, and I threw him a last uncertain glance before taking him into my mouth. He flinched and took a step back when I started, and I immediately looked up at him in panic. "Sorry," I apologized embarrassedly.
"No, don't be. It's okay; you just need to avoid letting your teeth touch it. It's not very pleasant," he explained in a reassuring voice before coming back towards me.
I nodded, and this time, I made sure my teeth didn't touch him. His hand returned to my hair. "Yeah, like that," he moaned, making my pussy clench at the tone of his voice. I continued my movements with closed eyes. "You can use your hand for what you can't fit in your mouth," he said weakly, and I did as he instructed. I could feel how much he was holding back from thrusting into my mouth to avoid rushing me, and the muffled sounds from his mouth sent an electric shock to my pussy.
"Fuck, you need to stop," he said, throwing his head back. I pulled away and looked up at him, confused.
"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, feeling lost.
"No, baby, you did a great job. It's just that I was about to come," he said, caressing my cheek and catching his breath.
"Oh," I said, chuckling. "Maybe you can come inside me?" I said without thinking, excited by the moment; I wanted more.
"Y/n," he said, diving his eyes into mine before I got up, grabbed the back of his neck, and kissed him again. "Is this really what you want?" he asked before reconnecting our lips.
"Please," I said pathetically, guided by my desires and excitement at that moment. My hands tangled in his hair, and his hands firmly gripped my hips.
"I don't have a condom, princess," he emphasized, smiling against my lips.
"I have..." I said timidly before heading to my bedside table to take out a new box of condoms.
A sly smile appeared, and I could already feel his remarks coming. So, before he had a chance to say anything, I cut him off, "I'm a virgin, not irresponsible, Chris," I said, rolling my eyes when I stood in front of him.
"I didn't say anything," he said, chuckling, before pushing me onto the bed and positioning himself above me to kiss me again. "Are you sure this is really what you want, Y/n?" he asked, directing his lips to my neck. "I don't want you to feel forced into anything. What we've done already is more than enough for now," he added.
"Jeez, Chris, stop talking," I said, chuckling, before grabbing his head between my hands to kiss him even more passionately than before.
"Are you that impatient?" he said, chuckling. "I need to stretch you a bit first, okay?" he said, directing his fingers towards my entrance. I simply nodded, and he pushed the first finger inside, prompting me to raise my head at the sensation. "Is it okay?"
"Yes, you can add another finger," I said, feeling my breath quicken. He inserted a second finger and began to move them in and out to stretch me.
"I wish your parents weren't here so I could hear you better, Y/n. You make beautiful sounds," he said, burying his head in my neck and curling his fingers inside me to stretch me further.
"Chris," I said, moaning and pulling slightly on his hair, "I need more."
"Do you think you're ready?" he asked, looking into my eyes. He had never looked at me like that before; his gaze was tender and caring.
"Yes," I replied, nodding. He grabbed a condom and opened it with his mouth. I could feel the pressure building, but I wasn't going to back down. I was going to do it; I was ready to do it.
He put on the condom and positioned himself at my entrance. "Tell me if you want me to stop, and I'll do it immediately," he said, and I nodded. "It might hurt a bit at the beginning if it's too much for you—"
"Chris, just do it," I said, cutting him off when I felt the stress overwhelm me.
He began to push slowly inside me, scrutinizing any sign of discomfort on my face. My eyebrows furrowed at the burning sensation when he started penetrating me. "Fuck," I said, glancing down to see what was happening between my legs before letting my head fall back on the pillow. He stopped halfway to make sure it wasn't too much for me. "Don't stop," I said, breathing quickly, and he resumed his advance until he touched the depth, prompting me to bury my head in his neck to muffle a moan.
"Are you okay?" he asked without moving from where he was.
"Yes, you can move," I said before he began to make slow thrusts. At first, it burned a little; it was uncomfortable, but with each subsequent movement, the pain transformed into pleasure.
"Oh my god, you're so tight, Y/n, fuckkk," he said, moaning against my lips. His thrusts gradually accelerated, and my hand gripped his bicep.
"It-feels good," I admitted, moaning softly and clenching my jaw.
"I've dreamt of this for so long; it's even better than in my dreams," he said, gripping onto my hips.
"You dreamed of this?" I asked him, confused, not knowing if he was being honest with what he was saying.
"Mhm," he simply hummed before lowering his free hand between our bodies to massage my clit. "You're mine now," he said in my ear, and my grip around his bicep tightened with the stimulation he was providing at that moment. His hip movements accelerated again, knotting my lower abdomen for the second time tonight. "Say it," he added in an authoritative tone.
"I'm yours, Chris," I said with the little strength I had left. My mind didn't know where to focus at that moment.
"Yes, and this pussy is mine too, Y/n," he said, moaning in my ear, driving me crazy. "I want you to cum again for me, princess," he said, accelerating his thrusts, yet still gentle and delicate.
My eyes rolled back, and my legs tightened around him. "Let go, princess," he said breathlessly. "Cum all over me." With his words, I threw my head back and started clenching around him. "Fuck, I can feel you clenching around me, baby," he said, burying his head in my neck, and I started to climax. I grabbed his hand, placing it over my mouth to muffle any noise, and shortly after, he climaxed too.
"Oh my god," I said before he let all his weight fall on me, moaning one last time.
"I never want to move from here," he said, smiling against my neck.
"You'll have to before my parents wake up," I said, chuckling. "It's already a miracle they didn't hear us," I said, running my hand through his hair.
He sat up and withdrew from me before tossing the condom into my trash bin. I sat up, covering myself with my blanket. "Will this happen again?" I asked him timidly, looking at him as he put on his boxers.
"Of course, it will, princess," he said, smiling, before sitting next to me and rubbing my thigh. "Can I stay a little longer?" he asked, locking his eyes with mine, and I nodded.
He settled next to me, pulling me close and gently running his hand over my curves. "Send me the exam tomorrow; I don't have class. I'll give you the answers," I told him, looking up at him.
"I thought this was bad, and good girls like you don't do these kinds of things," he said, chuckling and furrowing his brows.
"Good girls like me aren't supposed to sleep with bad boys like you," I replied, straddling him to be on top, and he sat up to kiss me.
"I told you I'd drive you crazy," he said, smiling against my lips.
Masterlist.
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#ao3 fanfic#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo edit#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#ao3#sturniolo smut#sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#smut
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Mistake
Summary: (Y/n) has been feeling not too well, she’s 18 weeks pregnant but still suffers from nausea. When they’re on shift they somehow get into a hostage situation and they use (y/n)’s nausea as a distraction.
9-1-1 masterlist
________
Evan opened his eyes and he turned onto his side, reaching out beside him. His arm searched for her warm body. When he found his wife, he pulled her closer to his body.
Evan plants a kiss on her shoulder, and continues kissing her until he reaches the crook of her neck. She groans at his touch, and lets her hand go through his curls.
“Goodmorning” she whispered as she kissed his temple. He mumbled a goodmorning back, barely audible because he was still merged into her skin.
“How are you feeling today?” Evan asked, while he removed his face from the crook of her neck.
Since last week (y/n) has been feeling nauseous, she is now 18 weeks pregnant, morning sickness could still happen at this time into pregnancy. So they had nothing to worry about, right?
“I’m fine, better than I felt yesterday” she answered. The day before she spent most of the time hanging with her face above the toilet. But this was actually the first night she was able to sleep through, without getting out of bed to go and throw everything she ate or drank back out.
“Are you sure you’re good to work this afternoon?” He asked while (y/n) turned around in his arms. Without any hesitation she nodded, and placed her hand on his chest. “You know Bobby would understand if you explained, right?”
Evan was worried (y/n) would do more than she could take. She was stubborn, but she knew her limits.
He let his hand slide down and rest on her stomach. “You want to talk to baby Buckley?” She smiled, she knew exactly what Evan wanted. Since they found out she is pregnant, Evan started talking to her belly, every single day. It was now a standard procedure, it didn’t matter to him if it was six in the morning or two at night. He had to talk to baby Buckley.
His hand rubbed up and down over her belly as she turned to lay on her back and sit up, so Evan’s face was in one line with her belly.
“Hello in there” he smiled as he looked up at his wife. Her hand was still stroking through his curly morning hair.
“This is your dad speaking” he softly let his hand rub over her stomach.
“I just wanted to say, be kind to your mom. Don't step on her intestines, mommy has to work and can’t feel sick.” he spoke as he pointed at her belly as a warning sign.
(Y/n) smiled as he pressed a soft kiss to her stomach. “I love you very, very much, but please stop making mommy so sick”
He pressed one last long kiss on her stomach as he pushed himself to the end of the bed. (Y/n) let out a squeal as Evan stood up, put his hands on her legs and pulled her towards him.
Evan let her legs dangle on the end of the bed as he took place between her legs. He put a strand of her morning hair behind her ear as he let both of his hands rest on her cheeks. He pressed a kiss on her lips.
“You would tell me if you weren’t feeling well, right?” He wanted her to know that it was okay to call in sick for a day.
She nodded. “Yes, I would.. But I’m fine, I swear.” her eyes connected with her husband's eyes.
She loved being a firefighter. Just like Eddie, she also could help on the ambulance whenever they needed her to. But her heart belonged to being on truck.
(Y/n) has been put on light duties, and whenever she couldn’t help with rescuing people from buildings or other heavy work, she would help Hen and Chimney out with the ambulance. Some calls she had to sit out, waiting back at the station while the rest of the team had all the fun.
“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid today during shift.” she spoke softly as she looked at her husband. Evan chuckled. “You know how I am. I can’t promise that.”
She playfully pushed his shoulder, so he almost lost his balance. "Okay! okay! I will try and think before I act.”
“That’s better”
A smile appeared on Evan’s face.“You know what would be even better?” She raised a brow at his words, not knowing his plan. But she knew this look he was giving her..
She felt him come closer, he kissed her once more, and he pushed her back into the mattress with his body. He hovered over her body, she felt his warm breath all over body, leaving goosebumps wherever his breath connected with her skin..
______
“You really shouldn’t be doing that..” Eddie spoke up as he was walking past the truck with (y/n)’s legs sticking out.
A sigh left (y/n)’s mouth when she pushed herself with her legs, from underneath the truck on the roller board. She sat up as she clicked her spine into place. Her vision was blurry for a second, but when she blinked a few times, the blur in front of her eyes seemed to be gone.
“Don’t worry, I already fixed it.” she said as she stood up from the board and grabbed a cloth to wipe her dirty hands with. “You could’ve just asked one of us to do it.” Eddie said, trying to make eye contact with his colleague. “I’m pregnant Eddie, there's nothing wrong with my hands.” She said as she walked past him, pushing the dirty cloth into his chest.
“I’m just saying…” Eddie’s voice spoke up as she walked towards one of the benches in the station where her water bottle was.
”There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.” he continued his sentence as she chugged her water. As if she had run a marathon. (Y/n) gave a disgusted expression and grabbed her stomach as the water was trying to escape her mouth again.
She was basically living on some water and a cracker, she wasn’t hungry this morning and most of what she would eat would leave her body within minutes.
Eddie furrowed his eyebrows. “You okay?” He asked as she held her fist to her mouth and closed her eyes for a second.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” she said when she held out her hand as a stop sign. “(Y/n)..”
“Eddie, why don’t you put your nose in someone else’s business.” she held onto her water bottle as she wanted to make a beeline for the stairs.
“I assume that is the hormones talking” he mumbled as he just stayed right where he was.
“I swea-“ just as she wanted to shoot back at him, while pointing her finger at her protective team member, squealing tires and a gunshot rang through the street.
“What the hell was that?” Evan spoke as he jumped down the last two steps of the stairs.
As soon as Eddie heard the gunshots, he clicked on the button to close the garage door. But the door was on fifty percent of closing when a car drove through the garage door into the firehouse and stopped on the ambulance spot.
Hen and Chimney were out with the ambulance on a medical call while the rest of the team was trying to do some tasks inside.
Two guys stepped out of the vehicle, one of the men went to the backseat as he dragged out one more member, his chest fully covered in blood.
“Woah woah!” Evan called out when one of the two men pointed a gun at the three firefighters. (Y/n) took a quick glance behind her, to see if Evan was somewhere near her, seeing what was happening.
Evan’s stomach turned when he reached the lower ground of the firehouse. He was just enjoying his coffee in the loft, only to be interrupted by an arguing duo downstairs, gunshots and squealing tires.
His eyes wandered to his wife as he realized what was happening. Their eyes connected. She had an frightened expression projected all over her face.
The gun the man was pointing at Eddie and (y/n) switched every few seconds between the three firefighters. “Y’all know how to give first aid, right?” the man spoke as he pointed with his free hand to his injured friend.
Eddie tried to stay calm and nodded at his question while he had his hands up in the air. “Good. Then you can help my friend.” he spoke as he pointed the gun at Eddie and walked over to him. Eddie bit his lower lip, and simply gave the guy a dead stare.
“Are you gonna help my guy or what?” the man asked, closing distance between Eddie and him. “Why would we want to help someone who’s threatening us with a gun.” Evan spoke up, stone cold. The man scoffed at Evan’s reaction, and knocked the end of his gun on the side of the firefighter’s head.
A wave of pain went through Evan’s head as he received the ice cold gun to his skin. And his hand made its way to the painful spot. “Alright, let's see if you still won't help us if I did this..” The man grabbed (y/n)’s upper arm and pulled her towards him. A shiver rolled down (y/n)’s spine as she felt a cold metal resting on the side of her head.
“Hey! Don’t you fucking touch her!” Evan’s voice yelled through the massive open space of the 118 firehouse.
His arm was around her neck, pulled strongly around it so she had nowhere to go. She could feel the man laughing at the reaction he got from doing this. The second guy who was still with the injured man pointed his gun at Evan.
Her breath was shaking, she was terrified to take another breath. (y/n) didn’t want to believe what was happening right now. She felt like she was going to be sick. She tried to stay strong, to not show any weakness. But when she closed her eyes and squeezed them, a tear rolled over her cheek.
“Okay! okay! We will help you. But first, you got to let her go man..” Eddie tried to make a compromise. The man shook his head at first. “Look. She’s a paramedic. She can help your friend. But she can’t do that with a gun pointed at her head.” he tried to convince the man. Sure Eddie was also a paramedic. But they had to get (y/n) back to safety.
The man who was holding (y/n) still in his tight grip pushed the gun deeper into her skin, as he took a deep breath and breathed in her scent. He abruptly let go of the woman and he pushed her towards Eddie and Evan, who both catched (y/n).
_______
She was scared for her life and sweating like an otter as she wrapped the man's wounds. Her head was throbbing, and her vision was blurry as she secured the gauze on the man’s chest. It looked like she could see her own heartbeat through her eyes.
The injured man started to sound like he couldn’t breathe. “He’s developing a tension pneumothorax” (y/n) said as she ruffled through the medic bag searching for the equipment she needed to help the man. “Shit” she whispered under her breath as she sighed.
“(y/n) talk to me, what do you need?” Bobby’s voice spoke as he was sitting on a bench, with Evan and Eddie next to him at gunpoint. “I need a large bore needle. But I can't find it in the bag!” She says. “Stay calm okay, we have another medic bag in the truck.” Bobby tried to reassure her. “I need that needle if you want me to save your friend here” she spoke to the man who was also holding her at gunpoint while she was working on the man.
She wasn’t missing that needle in her bag. She wanted one of them to have the chance to radio dispatch or ambulance for help.
“You. Go get her that thingy” The gun pointed at Evan. His eyes shot up, in confusion. Unsure what was going on. They had restocked everything. They had enough needles in one bag. It looked like he had zoned out, while he watched his wife help this injured man while he held a gun to her head.
Evan slowly got onto his feet, and walked towards the truck. The gunmen couldn’t follow Evan to the truck, they were outnumbered. So they just hoped that he would return to them as fast as possible.
Evan sneaked to the front of the truck, and silently opened the driver's door. He grabbed the radio with his right hand as he silently pressed the side of the radio to talk.
“Dispatch this is truck one eighteen. I have a ten one hostage situation here. In need of emergency assistance.”
As soon as Evan disappeared between the trucks, (y/n) started to make loud sounds by digging through the medic bag. She hoped deep down that Evan would get her needle hint. And took the chance to radio dispatch.
The injured guy's breath was getting worse and worse by the minute. “What’s taking so long?” One of the guys called out as he started making its way towards the truck.
“I found it!” she yelled as she held the needle into the air, as if she had just won a price. When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw Evan walking towards her with also a long bore needle in her hand. Evan jogged over, dropped the needle into her medic bag and gave her a wink.
He did it. He radioed someone. He called for help.
Her gloved hands opened the package of the needle. She squeezed her eyes and pushed the back of her hand to her forehead to try and get back her vision.
“Are you okay?” Eddie asks when he sees (y/n) squeezing her eyes, trying to focus on the needle between her fingers. Sweat was dripping all over her forehead. She was pale, it looked like she could pass out any second.
“You want someone else to take over?” Eddie asked her. (Y/n) stayed silent, she didn’t give him an answer. His voice was dull, as if he was an echo inside of her head.
An angry voice filled the open space of the firehouse. “Hey! shut the fuck up!” he spoke as he pushed the gun to Eddie’s chest. Eddie stood up. “You really trust her to save your guy? Look at her! She’s practically about to faint!” he pointed at his colleague who was staring at the needle in her hand.
Her breathing became shallow and the world around her started to spin. She really tried to calm herself down, to make all the symptoms she felt, to leave her body.
“Do you really have time to make such a mistake?” Eddie says as he looks over to (y/n).
(Y/n)’s eyes started rolling to the back of her head as she completely lost the balance of her body. Gravity pushed her down to the ground and the needle fell out of her hands.
When both gunmen were looking at what was happening to the female firefighter, Bobby and Evan both pushed one guy to the ground as Eddie took over the other man.
“You got him?” Evan asked when Bobby pinned his knee onto the back of the man. He didn’t wait for an answer. He just ran to his wife, almost tripping over his own two feet, screaming her name as he rolled her onto her back.
Evan’s hand gently patted the side of her face. “Hey! Hey! (Y/n)!” he softly said as he continued patting the side of her face.
Her mouth left a groan, but her eyes stayed close. “Tell your child to stop bouncing on my intestines” she spoke weakly.
Evan smiled through his gasps and pulled his wife into his chest. His left hand rested on the back of her head, and his right arm was around her back. “Don’t you ever do this again.” he says as he plants a kiss on her hair.
The garage door opened, and filled the firehouse with blue siren lights and sounds.
#911#911 fox#911 imagine#buck imagine#buck x reader#evan buckley imagine#evan buckley x reader#evanbuckley#imagine#911 abc
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The "It" Girl | 2
summary: Being a rookie in the world of Formula One comes with challenges, added on with the fact you’re a girl, American and racing for Red Bull doesn’t help. While you do have your “guard dogs” and “it girl” tendencies, it doesn’t help that you’re also trying to figure out romance.
pairing: 2021 grid x fem! driver, lando norris x fem! driver reader
warnings: sexism, alcohol consumption, toxic environments, uncomfortable situations
Previously: Finally reaching the Red Bull garage, Max and you get there and are immediately bombarded with cheers, laughter and applause from the Red Bull team.
After a good hour of celebrating with the team, you feel your phone vibrate in your hand, “Who is it?”, Max asks, curious to see who texted you.
Checking the notification it’s from an unknown number, asking if you wanted to go and celebrate with them, you look up at Max with confusion, but his face shows the opposite.
“Didn’t know he would be asking you so soon..”, Max says with a look of shock.
LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO
“Who??” You ask, looking up from your phone to Max. “What are you guys looking at?” Alex Albon asks, the reserve driver for Red Bull, and a good friend.
“Apparently Lando finally got the balls to ask her out” Max says with a surprised yet nonchalant expression, looking up at Alex. “Isn't he a year older than you?” Alex asks, looking down at your phone and reading over the text.
“Yeah so what?” You ask confused, “And Max you can’t say anything about age gaps because of Kelly” You grumble out, giving him a stern look.
“Ouch..” Max mumbles out, “Honestly he should've asked you in person, a bit of a pussy move if you ask me” He says rolling his eyes as he takes a sip of his Red Bull, which for some reason he always had one.
“Plus aren’t you two best mates?” You ask Max, “I mean yeah…but you could do so much better than Lando!” He says, grabbing your phone from your hands with a grin and snicker.
“Hey! Max stop! Alex, help me!” You say as Max starts running away with your phone, typing back something to Lando, while Alex just stands there, his hands raised up defensively, not wanting to be a part of the chase.
Eventually you give up, walking back to Alex you let out a huff of annoyance. He lets out a chuckle. “If it means anything I think you two would be cute” He says, bumping his shoulder into yours.
“Thanks..” You say softly, noticing Max walking back with a grin on his face. “I don't know how Christain would feel about it but that doesn't really matter'' Alex adds on.
Once Max reaches you both you snatch your phone from his hands, quickly unlocking it you checked what he sent.
"What the hell is wrong with you!" You screech out, hitting Max. "I'm sorry I had to! Play hard to get, see if Lando actually cares!" Max says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him.
You let out a sigh, sliding your phone back into your pocket. You love Max, you truly do, but sometimes he could be a bit annoying like an older brother.
"Wait are you even allowed to drink?" Alex asks, rolling your eyes you reply, "Yes I'm 21.." You grumble out. Max, Alex and you all slowly make your way out of the track, obviously after all of your media duties and debriefs.
Max, Alex and you all slowly make your way out of the track, obviously after all of your media duties and debriefs.
As the three of you make your way out of the track, you start to notice there are still quite a few fans that are lingering.
Many want pictures, and there is even one group that has brought a very large cardboard sign. The sign reads “Y/n for WDC!” in big bold letters, and they all look ecstatic at the thought of getting their picture with you.
You quickly stop to talk to the group, taking photos and signing anything they wanted signed.
You stand with the group of fans for a good minute, signing autographs and taking pictures, making sure everyone gets a bit of your time.
After signing what must’ve been over 50 autographs and taking more photos than you can count, the group seems to be satisfied and slowly disperse.
Max and Alex both look at you with wide smiles on their faces. “You know you don’t have to sign every single one of those, right?” Alex asks, “Just do a few.” Alex’s voice is a mix of laughter and teasing.
“I know..but I want to show my appreciation towards my fans, it means a lot knowing so many people support me” You say, looking over at Alex and Max.
“Y/n, you are so sweet.” Alex says with a genuine smile, putting his arm around you to give you a hug.
Max laughs a little. “Come on, let's go.” He says, and the three of you start walking back towards Max’s house.
As you walk, Alex nudges you again. “So, do you think Lando will call or text you back after the message Max sent?” He asks with a nervous look on his face.
“Honestly I’d be shocked if he said anything to me at all, if Max wasn’t so overprotective he wouldn’t have scared Lando off!” You say, narrowing your eyes at Max as the three of you continue to walk.
Max laughs at your comment. “I wasn’t trying to scare him off, just a little bit of tough love.” His laughter is contagious and you can’t help but grin back at him.
Alex rolls his eyes back at you. “So this isn’t the way you usually flirt with dudes, huh?” He says with a teasing tone.
“Not really no, I mean when I was a teenager I would text some guys but it never led anywhere, clearly Max ruined my chance with Lando” You say, still salty over Max’s antics earlier.
“Like I said before, tough love!” Max says with a chuckle. You turn to Max and playfully punch him on the shoulder. “You really are an ass.” You say, laughing. Max laughs back at you.
You three make it out of the paddock and walk over to Max's car. He unlocks the doors and gets into the driver side, while Alex pushes you out of the way and gets into the passenger side.
You roll your eyes at Alex and climb into the back. “Since Alex was an ass I get aux!” You say with a smile, plugging your phone in and starting a random playlist on Spotify.
Shuffling through a few songs you make a queue. Max starts up his car, pulling out of the parking lot he starts to drive off to the club you three had previously decided to go to.
Giggling, you show Alex the song that’s going to play next, “Oh he’ll love that..” Alex says with a chuckle, Max only side eyes you too.
After “Life is a Highway” finishes the familiar beat of “33 Max Verstappen” plays in through the speakers. (Pretend the song was made in 2021). Max lets out a groan, “I swear I will purposefully crash this car Y/n!” He says, jokingly of course.
You and Alex burst out laughing, but then Maxs phone goes off, someone was calling him. The contact information for Lando pops up on the screen he has in his car, because of course Max Verstappen has a fancy car that has that.
You and Alex grow silent, “Pretend that you’re not here Y/n” Max says, pressing his fingertip to the accept call button.
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Liked by landonorris and others
y/n what a good day to be racing for Red Bull
View all 4,503 comments
maxverstappen33 Very proud! Happy to share the podium with you!
maxverstappen33 Horrible song choice though
y/n personally I thought it was an amazing choice
alex_albon I agree with y/n 🙋🏻♂️
redbullracing That’s our girl!! So proud 🏆♥️
y/n 🥹♥️
f1 She is the moment, she is a icon 👏
user2178 she’s literally so bad, horrible image on f1
user640 Go cry about it, grow up mate
landonorris congrats Y/n!! well deserved!
y/n thanks Lan!!
mclaren 👀🧡
redbullracing 👀♥️
maxverstappen33 I’m watching you Lando
user227 Y/N X LANDO?????
user307 No Y/n x Charles is the only acceptable answer
user630 Or Y/n with no one!!
lilymhe So proud!!! Can’t wait to see you ♥️
y/n LILY ILY MY GF ❤️❤️
alex_albon Nevermind, horrible song choice
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
radio 🪩: Honestly enjoyed this one so much, leave any comments, suggestions or anything 🫶. Once again requests are appreciated!!
taglist: @willowpains
next part
#formula one#formula 1#forumla 1#alex albon#lando norris#formula racing#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#red bull f1#red bull racing#red bull formula 1#red bull team#f1 x female reader#f1#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#charles lecrelc#f1 2021#f1 wags#x driver reader#x female reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#mclaren#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#ferrari racing
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ill-intentioned "compliments"
Drabbles Masterlist
See my full list of works here!
Summary: Loki steps in when a man subjects you to his tasteless opinion on your outfit
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 955 (issa blurb)
Warnings: creepy men being creepy; the tiniest dose of violence (let me know if I missed anything!)
Things to be aware of: a bit of mutual pining
"I haven't the slightest idea why we have even been tasked with this," Loki muttered, walking alongside you holding a paper with a list of errands for the two of you to run this weekend. Every other week, two names from the team were picked from a hat, and this week, your names popped up.
"Well Pepper said something about it helping the team seem more approachable, 'human', if the public sees us doing 'normal people' things. So getting groceries, getting the cars cleaned and gassed up, picking up pizza…little things."
He grumbled even worse; if he wasn't such a stickler for his princely stature, he'd probably be slouching and dragging his feet right about now. "I suppose it could be worse," he said softly. "I could have been partnered with less tolerable company."
"Why Mischief, are you saying you like having me around?" you quipped, playfully batting your eyes at the god. "High praise coming from you."
"Do not make me regret saying that, little mortal." He rolled his eyes at you, failing to hold back the twitching of the corner of his mouth and hide the amusement. As he often did when he was around you.
"Well if it makes you feel any better, I like having you around, too."
Your words took him aback. "Truly?"
"Of course." You pointed at the next item on your list, before motioning toward the top shelf. "You're the most tolerable tall person I could've been partnered with. Last time I got partnered with your brother I had to push around two carts on my own."
You had to look away while he reached up for the carton of pickle jars, resisting against every urge to ogle at the way his midnight black jeans stretched over his inhumanly perfectly shaped ass. "Well for what it's worth, darling, I would never let you do any of this on your own--"
"We-he-heeeelll, Agent Y/L/N," a voice drawled out, coming from a man who was no less than two decades your senior, eyes filled with such prurient thoughts that he didn't even bother to hide as he leered at you. The way he said your name, along with the way he looked at you, felt like you were being blanketed in slime.
Made you want nothing more than to kick his ass. Or even rack up a debt to the god you were partnered with and ask for his help.
"Don't you look mighty fine today, in that cute little skirt…" The unwelcome lecherous admirer was reaching his hand out toward you, letting out a yowl of pain when Loki stormed over, grabbed the man's wrist in his significantly larger hand, and squeezed.
"I think not," he said through gritted teeth. "You're undeserving to be sharing the same breath as her and you believe yourself entitled to a touch?"
"What? I was just paying her a compliment!" the man whined. "It's a free country, you fucking alien. What? I can't tell a woman she's pretty anymore? Is that what--"
"You know damn well you were doing more than that. You were putting her in a situation to give a clear message, that despite her stature and place in society, because you have deemed it so, she is still subject to your lecherous thoughts. You were going to touch her without her consent because you wished for her to know that you can, and whatever happens in the aftermath will not nullify how she was already subjected to being groped by your grimy unworthy hands." The god squeezed a touch tighter, a near sadistic smile stretched across his face when he began to hear bones creaking and threatening to crack.
"Fucking psycho you're breaking my hand!"
"Oh I haven't even begun to get psychotic," Loki spat out, squeezing just a touch harder and hearing the first fracture finally give in. He begun to speak lower, and you were too far away to decipher what he said next. "You know not the lengths I would go for her, you impotent, tiny, inconsequential insectile excuse for a man. Anyone who sullies her mood will have me to answer to, am I being clear?"
Another squeeze. More fractures. And the once supercilious man was reduced to a whimpering mess, pleading for mercy. "P-Please I'm sorry, just let me go I won't do it again."
"See to it that you don't." The god's eyes glowed a vibrant green for a moment, casting an enchantment that would replicate the sensation of his hand fracturing whenever he would so much as feel the urge to touch another unfortunate unwitting woman moving forward. When he was certain that the spell had taken, he released the lech's hand with a derisive sneer, not even bothering to watch him scamper away, choosing instead to turn and cross the few steps back to you.
"You know I could've kicked his ass no problem."
"I have no doubts, little mortal, but that would also mean you would have given him the satisfaction of touching him." He broke out into a smile when you scrunched up your face at his response, fighting against the urge to reach for your hand. Or tuck that stray lock of hair behind your ear.
Or kiss you.
"Thank you," you said softly as you both started walking toward the register. "The guys back at the Compound got it so wrong about you. You're not so bad." Loki's heart stumbled at your words, only to start pounding in his chest as you continued. "I'm starting to wonder if you're bad at all."
For the first time in ages, the god found himself unable to form words, a warmth blooming in both his gut and his chest. "Anytime, darling."
A/N: Made this for @glitchquake because we should be allowed to wear cute workout clothes without worry about creepy fckers that 100% deserve stabbies when they try to bust out their creep factor 😤
'everything' taglist:
@simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist
#loki x reader#loki x female reader#loki fanfiction#loki fanfic#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic#mcu fanfiction#muddyorbs writes
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⁑ They see you cry for the first time// Hogwarts legacy characters reactions x reader ⁑
~ Hogwarts Legacy headcanons ~
Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, use of Y/N, mention of death and blood, swearing (censored), Leander jumpscare.
Pairings: Sebastian x reader, Ominis x reader, Garreth x reader, Amit x reader, Poppy x reader, Natty x reader, Imelda x reader, Leander x reader.
Feel free to request anything!
-------------------------------
Context:
Even after Professor Fig's death, even under great pressure and no matter the situation, you never let your friends saw you crack. Not even a single tear. You were trying really hard to hide your pain and sadness. But it had to come out one day...
After fighting against some poachers with your companion, they almost killed him/her.
After you saved him/her, you finally broke down. You thought you lost him/her too. You couldn't control your tears.
(Pre-relationship)
THEIR REACTION :
Sebastian:
He gets up and dusts himself off without noticing how devasted you were at first.
"It seems like I'm the one who's in your debt now. I owe you- Y/N? Are you crying?"
He almost runs to you the moment he notices.
"What is wrong? Are you hurt? Are you bleeding? Tell me!"
He is extremely worried. He doesn't know why you're crying. When you explain to him you were really afraid of losing him like you lost so many people in your life, he got really quiet for a moment.
"You'll never lose me. We're a team, the best team even. If we stick together and protect eachother, nothing could ever happen to one of us. Besides, I am an excellent duellist!... Look at me Y/N..."
He lifts your chin up to make you meet his gaze. You could see how concerned he was. He wipes away some of your tears with his fingers.
"I'll be the one protecting you next time." You could feel he wasn't only talking about duels or battles...
He is not really good with words so he will go out of his way to try to cheer you up for the rest of the day. He will pick little flowers for you and bring you sweets.
"I'm not great with words but I surely can listen! Please come to me if you want to talk..or if you need a big bear hug! I'm also good with those."
Would hug you very tightly for as long as you need.
Ominis:
He will notice almost immediately when you start crying. He felt your breath pattern change and he heard you slightly sniffle.
"Y/N, may I ask what's troubling you? It's very unlike you to be this upset. I'm worried. Are you hurt perhaps?"
You then explain how scared you were. You feel like you almost lost him too.
He stays silent. He goes to reach for your hand and holds it.
He usually never lets anyone holds his hand because he doesn't feel like he is in need of any guidance and doesn't think it is ever necessary. But he is making an exception to comfort you.
"I appologize for making you worry that much about my safety. But I am still here...thanks to you."
You both make it back to Howarts and he refuses to let go of your hand.
"As you may already know, I am a great listener. I am always available if you feel the need to talk about anything."
"Your safety is also truly important to me. I just want to make sure you do not feel like what happened to you or anyone is your fault."
He really wants to make sure you're feeling better before letting your hand go.
He doesn't care if people can see him holding your hand. All that matters at this moment is you.
"Take your time Y/N. I'll stay for as long as you need me to."
Garreth:
He is very oblivious about the situation. You turn your head to not face him so he couldn't see your tears. But you feel your shoulders shake.
When he notices how your demeanor changed, he just wonders if you were tired or maybe hurt.
"Y/N? Are you alright? I have some Wiggenweld potions if you need any. I even brew them myself."
You try to explain to him how you felt. You couldn't contain your tears. Those poachers almost killed him in front of your eyes... You see his eyes widen.
"Y/N...Please don't cry. I'm fine, look! Please... I hate when I can't see your pretty smile."
He will almost instantly take you in his arms and give you a hug. He will also gently carress your head as he tries to make you smile or laugh.
"Come on Y/N, you usually always laugh at that joke! Smile for your best bud...please."
He will not leave you alone until you feel better.
"Trust me, I think you might need some of that famous Gryffindor courage, chivalry, and determination to make you feel better! You're in luck, I have all of the above!"
He will not leave you for the rest of the day. And if anyone tries to talk to you, he will tell them you need to rest. He wouldn't want you to feel too overwhelmed.
"There it is! There is your pretty smile. Do you feel a bit better now?"
Amit:
After the battle against the poachers, his first instinct will be to check on you, even he was the one who almost died. He'll quickly notice you feel upset.
"Y/N what is wrong? Please don't cry...I'm here for you."
You explained how unbearable the thought of almost losing him too was. You explained how much it breaks you.
"I-I'm sorry...I didn't know how much that impacted you. I should have known. But I'm here for you now. Don't be ashamed to cry in front of me. I'm here..."
As you're crying, he gently rubs your back and hands you his handkerchief. He stays next to you until you finish crying. Then he will talk to you for a while.
"I hope you know you don't have to hide your emotions from me anymore. I still think you're incredibly strong. You're so wonderful Y/N, truly."
He'll almost force you to go get some rest for the rest of the day.
"Please, let me bring you back to your dorms. You need to rest. I'll warn your teachers about your absence, they'll understand. I'll give you the notes I took during class, I insist on that."
He'll walk you back to your dorms like the gentleman he is. He'll make sure you don't have to worry about anything else for the rest of the day.
He will bring some food to you so you don't forget to eat. It's not just an excuse to come to see you and check on you, not at all really
He will try to be more careful about what he does. He doesn't want to worry you.
Poppy:
She almost cries first. The situation really shook her. But when she notices you crying, she focuses all her attention on you.
"Y/N! Please tell me you're not hurt! I'm here, I'm okay, you're okay. Take a deep breath."
You try explaining to her through your heavy sobs how afraid you were to lose her too.
"Don't be silly, I'll always be right next to you, no matter how annoying it can be. They can't possibly get rid of me that easily when you're with me Y/N. That's what makes you such an amazing person... You're always so selfless."
She takes you in her arms. Nobody can possibly make her let go of you.
"I'm so sorry you went through all of that... but you will never lose me."
She makes you take deep breaths and do breathing exercises until you calm down a little.
"Do you feel better? Do you need me to bring you something? Water? Food? Anything? Let me go get that for you!"
You could ask her for anything and she'll RUN to get them for you.
"Don't worry, it's okay to cry. Sometimes I cry too! It doesn't make you weak or anything of the sort! Your tears mean you feel deeply and that's a good thing!"
She'll make sure that you're not alone, not a single second, for the rest of the day. She has to make sure you feel supported.
Natty:
She is very attentive to what is happening around her. So it doesn't take her long to notice your muffled sobs you were trying to hide.
"Y/N, what's wrong? I'm here with you, you can tell me about it."
She tries to stay very calm. She wouldn't want to stress you out more than you already are.
As you explain to her how you felt about losing her too and the fear of her being killed, you can notice how concerned she looks. She sadly knows that feeling all too well.
"I want to support you in any way you need. You are not alone. I...I know how you feel."
She'll make you sit next to her. She will let you cry it out while she hold your hand and softly rubs it with her thumb.
"This is really hard for you, I understand. I will help you work it out. I'll never leave you Y/N. You'll never lose me, I hope you know that."
She'll hand you tissues as she listens to you attentively.
"Is there anything I can do to help? I would do anything to help you feel better."
She is ready to do anything you want. It really hurts her to see you go through what she went through.
Following this incident, you can be sure she will regularly check on you.
Imelda:
She is panting as she tries to get up. She is just glad she didn't die. It was a close-call. When she turns to look at you, she is surprised to see you so upset.
"Y/N? Why are you crying? We won! You beat them all! It could be so much worse, I almost died."
You explain how the though of losing her the way you lost so many people scares you. Your tears are flowing on your cheeks.
"I'm not...that big of a deal. If I knew you were going to cry over me, I would have been more careful... Please...Y/N..."
She slowly pats your back, not really knowing what to do or what to say.
"Hey Y/N, it's okay, I'm still here. And even if one day I die, I'm sure you'll figure out something crazy like usual and resurrect me or something like that. You're that powerful, I'm sure of it. But let's not think about it just yet!"
She usually would NEVER hug anyone but she'll hug you if you ask her. She will complain but she'll still do it for you.
"Hugh! So needy! Just don't hold me too tight, I can't escape death twice in a row. There there, I'm here."
Deep down she enjoys being the one you're worried about. She would never admit it though.
"Don't tell anyone we hugged or I'll never hug you again."
Leander:
He only thinks about himself at first. He almost died and couldn't believe he was still here.
"Holy sh*t you saved me! Y/N... it was crazy. I-... Are you crying?"
You tell him how afraid you were about losing him too. You couldn't bear the thought of him dying.
"Oh...I- hum..."
He doesn't have a single clue how to comfort you. He is very ankward and clumsy with his words. He means well though.
He's the kind of person to not think before he talks.
"Y/N...look at me. I...hum...your tears are beautiful...S-Sorry I just blurt out random things when I'm nervous. But I'm here..."
He'll ankwardly hug you and pat your head.
"It's alright Y/N...Do you want my scarf? You're always begging me to give it to you so you can wear it. Here, take it."
He gives you his scarf you puts it around your neck. It feels strangely comforting.
"You can wipe your tears with it if you want. It's yours now. Red suits you much better anyway."
You burry your face in his chest and hug him tighter.
"I hope it's not just an excuse because you don't need to do that if you really needed a hug from me that bad. I'll hug you everyday if you insist."
In a weird way, his teasing makes you feel a bit better.
#MY FAV KIND OF STUFF TO WRITE#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy headcanons#sebastian sallow#ominis gaunt#garreth weasley#amit thakkar#poppy sweeting#natty onai#imelda reyes#sebastian sallow x reader#sebastian sallow fanfiction#sebastian sallow x mc#sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader#ominis gaunt x you#ominis x reader#ominis gaunt x reader#sebastian x reader#ominis x y/n#hogwarts legacy oc#hogwarts oc#hufflepuff#slytherin#gryffindor#ravenclaw#leander prewett#leander slander#garreth weasley x reader#garreth weasley x you#garreth weasley x mc
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141 men finding out military!reader is only 19 after they break down from being overwhelmed and overworked??
✎ this idea bounces around my head a lot actually and now i have a reason to write it down finally :) i wasn't sure if you wanted them altogether or separately so i did it separately because it's easier lol. i kept it platonic and sfw!
✎ tags : gender neutral!reader, reader has a panic attack, descriptions of violence/injury/death, swearing, hurt to comfort, all platonic relationships, only half proofread
you're barging into the safehouse where he had said to rendezvous, gasping for air that your closed throat won't let through. the rifle held in your dominant hand is dropped as soon as the door is shut behind you, and you're clawing at the straps of your helmet and chest armor to get them off because it's too tight and it's too much and you can't breathe.
this wasn't your first mission. it wasn't even the bloodiest one you'd been on thus far. you could handle the gore and the death and the pure misery of the victims of these situations, because at the end of the day, you were helping them, right?
unless you were too late.
the family had been huddled in a corner, two children laying underneath their parents. there had still been two other rooms to check in the house, but you were running out on shaky legs.
he's in front of you now, looking down at you and asking if you're injured. you're sitting on the floor, heaving for breath and tears pouring from your glassy eyes.
"it's not- it's not fucking fair!" you cried out finally, trying desperately to wipe your face dry on your sleeves, but it only worked to redden your skin further. "why are these people doing this? how could someone be so cruel?"
he sighed softly, not knowing how to respond. the team didn't show emotions like this, they didn't deal with them, not like this. but they had all been here, where you are now. they had all asked why, again and again and again until the word lost all meaning.
"i mean, are we even really helping? god, these people are all already dead! why are we here? why- jesus fucking christ, why am i here?" you rambled; you weren't talking to him anymore. your voice was fizzling out, getting quiet enough that he had to lean closer to hear your unsteady words.
"i can't help these people," you sobbed. "i'm just a kid, i'm only nineteen, i can't- i don't know what i'm supposed to do! they said i was special! they told me- said i was so much better and smarter than everyone else, what a fucking joke!"
☆ simon "ghost" riley
he knew you were young, but fuck, if that didn't break his heart, there was nothing left that would. simon didn't talk to you more than any of the others on the team, but you were special, like a little sibling to the team, to him. always having enough energy and kindness to make up for the rest of them.
seeing you like this was a first, even for him, the man who had seen the worst of the worst. it wasn't like he was immune to emotions, but he had spent so long pressing them all down until he couldn't feel them that this was new to him again. all he could do was offer a hand on your knee that he hoped resembled something like comfort.
"we're almost done here. the heli will come for us soon," he said quietly. "you did good, like always."
he watched and waited with you while your sobs whittled away to sniffles, never moving his hand from your knee, where you had grabbed onto it with one of your own. most people knew not to touch him, that they'd end up with one less hand if they did, but you were an exception.
☆ john "soap" mactavish
at first, he doesn't do anything, just kneels in front of you and stares in shock. you're nineteen? you had always danced around the question that the team would tease you with, asking if you still had to work on your homework, but it was always a joke. now it wasn't.
instead of dwelling, john shifts and sits in front of you, almost hovering over you awkwardly as he tried to figure out what to do. sure, he was one of the more open people on the team, but when you're standing next to ghost, just smiling makes you look emotionally vulnerable.
he takes your hands away from your face and into his, placing them on your lap before gently holding your shoulders. "look, we're almost done here, alright? we'll be far away before you know it." that didn't help much, so he paused again.
the almost-distraught look on his face forced a giggle out of you. his worry turned to confusion, why are you laughing now? you probably shouldn't have been, but the big, scottish military-man fretting over you was kind of funny.
"alrigh', lass, at least something cheered ya up," he grumbled, but turned serious again right after. "higher-ups were right, ya know. you are smarter than the rest of 'em. maybe even smarter than us, yeah?" he said with a smile.
☆ kyle "gaz" garrick
it wasn't that long ago that kyle was where you are now, fresh out of school and eager to prove himself in the military. except it had taken him several years longer than you to reach where you both were now; he had had plenty of time to come to terms with the horrors he saw.
now he realized that you hadn't, because you were smart and you were better than most other people, so they had thrown you in, like a minnow in a piranha pond. by all means, you were doing wonderfully for your circumstances, but you could only keep going for so long.
he sat down beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder, and wrapped an arm around you to bring your head down to rest on him. he sat with you quietly, giving you the time you needed to just get it all out.
eventually, once you're more calm, he breaks the silence with bad jokes that he definitely stole from simon.
"why do twitter users make bad soldiers?" you lifted your head to stare at him incredulously before he continued, "because, they're too quick to retweet."
☆ john price
the captain knew how young you were. he never told you, but he hadn't wanted you on the team at first; the second he was handed your file and saw your birthdate, he started protesting. but it wasn't up to him this time. he couldn't spare you from this, and he knew that it would always weigh on him. he knew he would always remember this, you, crumbling in on yourself in a heap on the floor.
john came down on one knee in front of you and started telling you a story about when he had started, how one of his first missions had gone so terribly wrong. you honestly thought he was just going to tell you to "suck it up" until he told you about one family he had saved during that mission, one that was still alive today. they still sent him letters, even.
"all you need is one good save, kid. and you've got dozens already," he murmured. he wouldn't say it outright, but you really were one of his best.
you remembered the child clinging to your back as you ran out of a collapsing building, the woman who's leg you had managed to get unstuck from fallen debris, the man you had stopped from being executed just in time.
price smiled once he saw he had gotten through to you and helped, at least a little, and roughly patted your shoulder. "evac will be here soon, chin up now."
#call of duty#modern warfare 2#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#john soap mactavish#john mactavish#john mactavish x reader#soap x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#kyle garrick x reader#john price#john price x reader#gender neutral reader#angst#fluff#sfw#fanfiction#— lilly writes! ♡
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summary: you never check your phone, so when the team is live and you forget once again, the secret is out.
paige bueckers x reader
forgetfulness is better forgotten
(664)
it was a basic friday night, usual to the ones you had been having all year. your girlfriend, paige, had practice earlier so she was unable to hang out with you tonight. you had decided to go out with some friends from your psych class, knowing that by the time you got home paige would be too.
you guys went to some bar, ordered a few drinks and hung out for a few hours. you were, and always had been, one of those people who forgets to check their phone. this habit has posed a few problems for you, you never know where to be, when to be there, or who is even there, but the worst situation you had ever found was the one that took place later that night.
❛ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❜
walking down the hall to your shared apartment with your girlfriend, you hear fimiliar voices coming from inside, the basketball team. you smile as you unlock the door, seeing them all and greeting them, you had yet to realize the fact that your girlfriend and one of her fellow teammates was missing.
you had been talking to nika for almost twenty minutes before you decided to go into your bedroom, what you had failed to notice was the text from your girlfriend saying she was live and ice's reminder before you walked in.
you saw KK and paige sitting by the desk, happy to see your girlfriend you walk over wrapping your arms around her waist kissing her forehead before looking up at her phone, quickly realizing what you had done.
you had just kissed your girlfriend on live.
You had just kissed your girlfriend who was not out to the internet, on live.
instantly you back up, and kk picks the phone up making up some lame excuse of a topic change. you bring yourself to look at paige, seeing a smile on her face. "why are you smiling? i feel so bad, i just messed up your plan." you talked quietly, number one to not be picked up by the mic and number two because you had just felt bad.
"baby its okay, it was just some silly idea, people knowing about us does not change the fact that i am with you." you nod at her words, looking to KK as you hear another "girl boo" come from the corner of the room. you nod, walking over to sit next to her and chat, choosing not to look at the flood of comments not only asking who you were but what you and paige were.
you and kk were on the topic of whether or not we think we could fit our whole head into our shoes if they were combined, you turn around when you hear your girlfriend, "kk, be so serious, we all know those ears aren't fitting in a shoe let alone your head." you laugh, giggling at a few funny comments that go by adding onto paige's joke.
its eventually brought up again that when you walked in you had kissed paige, and you're quick to lie. "y'all, i am drunk, trust me, me and paige would never date, but keep them edits rolling if you know what i mean," you mubble the last bit, laughing to yourself as you turn and see paige's cheeks a little pink.
a little after you guys end the live, you walk out to the team, and laughter fills the room.. "you guys would never date?" aubrey questions your lie, trying to hold back her laugh. you roll your eyes, "i didn't know they were live! i forgot to check my phone!" the whole team groans at this, all of them having dealt with the consequences of you and your forgetfulness.
"y/n if you don't start checking your phone more often im going to chuck it at your head." paige mutters, her hand around your waist as she rolls her eyes at your behavior.
guys i might be losing it. anyway, double upload who am i? this is so cheeks im sorry 😭 -kate
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Hi! I love your writing! Can I ask some headcanons with Kid, Sanji, Zoro, Law et Luffy going to the beach with their S/O, please?? Tysm!
Hello sweet anon! Thank you for requesting, it was fun to write. Hope it will match your expectations ☆
☆ Kid, Sanji, Zoro, Luffy & Law going to the beach with their s/o
CW : g/n reader, funny, fluff, Kid is cursing but I guess no one is surprised, Kid is a savage, really vague mention of sex for Sanji, slight cursing for Zoro + mention of alcohol,
WC : 2,3k
Kid
Heavy stomps, mumbling curses, regular sighs and grunts full of irritation. Yep. It was your idea to go to the beach. Kid would never go to the beach by himself because he hates all the screaming children and the sand between his toes. And, the sun could ruin his make-up. So he would act all grumpy, wondering what he has done to end up in such a situation.
"Goddamn, y/n, come back, you didn't put your sunscreen" Of course Kid thinks about his skin all the damn time, he's such a beauty-influencer when it comes to make-up and skin care. If you neglect to apply sunscreen to your body, he will bark at you, grab you by the wrist, and do all the work himself. And then, you'll have to help him, especially when it comes to applying sunscreen to his back. He won't let you know he loves when you run your hands down his back and along his always tensed shoulders.
"I've seen this place before you, fuck off!" While planting violently your parasol on the ground, barking to the poor innocent guy who tried to set his stuff at the place Kid noticed in first. "It's my beach."
He's so possessive with everything, help.
Actually, Kid likes one thing about the beach: he can brag about his big man boobies. No shirt, just his glorious bare, toned chest. Every time someone looks at him with jealousy or admiration, he feels so proud; his ego is never satisfied with this. He's perfectly aware of how shaped his torso is, and he's really proud of it.
Every time someone looks at your body, he feels really pleased with himself. Even if they try, they won't be able to have you. But on the flip side, he's also upset when he realizes that everyone can see your beautiful shapes. His arm would be wrapped around your waist. All. The. Time.
Kid being Kid, he would smash all the sandcastle made by the children. Prepare yourself to get in trouble with all the mad parents around there, while their children are crying because "the big scary man told me I'm a piece of shit who don't even know how to build a sandcastle" You better watch Kid tightly before he stuffs their mouths with some sand to make them shut up.
"Come on Kid, it's just a child."
If you try beach sports, he will make everything a competition. Avoid playing volley beach with him, because if you team up and lose, he will smash the ball into the winner's face. "Now who's the loser?"
If someone tries to sell him an ice cream, he would scowls madly. Does he look like someone licking some fucking ice balls full of sugar? Ugh. It's so ridiculous.
He doesn't wear armbands because he thinks he's too good for them. "I don't care if I can't swim, I won't use those damn armbands."
Honestly, Kid hates how weak he is in the water, so he would stay away from trouble. The ocean makes his voice weak, even his strength is leaving him. And, even if his eyeliner is waterproof, he doesn't want to risk ruining his make up. "I fucking hate water"
Would end up using his DF to find some metal around and build something with it while you're swimming. It looks like he doesn't care, but secretly, he watches to make sure you're safe. And if you're drowning, then, he'll run to save you so yes, congrats, now you're drowning together.
Luckily, Killer is not too far.
Killer deserves a break.
Sanji
Oh, damn... going on a beach date with Sanji is not a good idea. All the women in swimsuits would overwhelm him. Sanji, as he is, wouldn't be able to handle all the women around him, even though you are the prettiest of all the people around.
But the moment you take off your clothes and replace them with your swimsuit, his eyes would be on you all the time because you're the most mesmerizing person in the whole universe.
He's so proud to introduce you as his s/o to absolutely everyone, yes, even that one person sleeping peacefully under their parasol. "Have you seen how beautiful y/n is?"
Of course, he would help you apply sunscreen to your skin. Enjoy the massage because his hands are so heavenly smooth and divine. He would clearly take advantage of the situation to place some soft kisses along your collarbone, shoulders, neck, jugular, and down your spines.
It's clear that Sanji brought his own food to the beach. You can enjoy fresh drinks, ice cream, waffles, cakes, fresh salads, and juicy fruits just for you. He wouldn't let you buy some ice cream from the trader because it's probably disgusting, full of sugar and chemicals. Your body is a temple and cannot be contaminated by non-premium quality food.
He's probably causing the parents to be angry because he's smoking. But Sanji is nice, so if it was asked politely, he wouldn't mind stubouting his cigarette.
While you're tanning under the parasol, Sanji is probably laying next to you, with a book explaining all the fish he could buy in the town.
If you decide to go swimming, of course, he's going with you. As the kind person he's, he wants to make sure you're safe, and if you uncomfortable with your body, he wouldn't mind using his own body as a shield, so no one but he can look at you.
He's a pure romantic, so prepare yourself for some lovely hugs in the water, with him holding you tight and his hands roaming all over your wet skin. Sweet kisses on your neck. He's not against taking things further, but he's romantic and all the screaming children are ruining the mood. But during the night... yes, he's definitely not against swimming at midnight.
And if he finds some ugly, green, gummy seaweeds, then, he'll take them back to the Sunny. "Marimo, don't let your children alone at the beach."
Zoro
"Oi, y/n, where are you?"
Well, have you already seen Finding Nemo? Remember about Marlin always asking "HAVE YOU SEEN MY SON?" Now, you're Marlin and Zoro is your Nemo.
Do not leave him alone for more than two seconds. Do not leave him buying ice cream for the two of you. Otherwise, the date is ruined. The only thing you will do is ask everyone 'Have you seen a big man with big boobs and green hair?'
Maybe he'll find the one piece before the end of the day.
"I wasn't lost, your indications weren't clear."
Zoro's obliviousness means you need to pay close attention to him. Stay close to him and everything will be okay. He's in good shape, so people are probably looking at him with admiration, jealousy, or whatever thoughts come to mind. But he doesn't give a damn, and is probably thinking people are looking at you because you're mesmerizing in your swimsuit.
He doesn't care about the people wearing swimsuits around him. It's not an event for him. "I won't nose bleed like this shitty twirled-brow."
He thinks the beach is a good opportunity to train himself. While you're relaxing under the parasol, he's training in the sun. Burpees, push-ups, and even some yoga are used to work his breathing and stability.
Once he's done, he's all sweaty and wants to swim a bit. If you don't follow him, he'll be swimming until he finds a new island.
If you're too lazy to swim, he'd be okay with carrying you. If a jellyfish tries to bite your thigh, then, the poor creature is doomed and would end up as a dinner for the crew when you'll get back to the Sunny.
He prefers alcohol over ice cream, of course. It's the best thing to enjoy after swimming and training. While he's drinking, he likes when you rest your head against his chest. On the other hand, he's a bit flustered because Zoro cares about his privacy. But you're too cute, he can't push you away.
Arms wrapped around your waist while you sleep together. Perfect date for Zoro: training and restlessness. No one would dare trying to steal your stuff because Zoro is used to standing guard on the Sunny, so he would react really quickly.
At the end of the day, he got the biggest sunburn ever because he forgot to apply sunscreen. Poor Zoro.
Luffy
It's like going to the beach with your overly excited dog.
He's yelling excitedly, jumping everywhere, laughing loudly, and oh, good luck, he's already running away. You tried to catch his wrist, but it just stretches his arm beyond its limits. Good luck in finding him.
Well, honestly, if you want to find Luffy, just try to figure out where the food is. He's probably eating some waffles and ice cream, or more precisely, emptying all the stands of their food.
"Oh Y/N, you're here?" He speaks with his mouth full, obviously.
Luffy is selfish with food, but he would let you have the last waffle because he loves to see you smile.
As Zoro, he doesn't give a damn about people in swimsuits.
If a child has a better rubber ring than him, he's sad. "Y/N, we need to buy a better one! What about this one?" While displaying an extravagant beetle rubber.
He's so happy, with it. Prepare yourself to pull him out the water because while he's watching to find some fish or play with some seaweeds, he would end up falling overboard like the overexcited child he's.
But drowning wouldn't destroy his joy. Be ready for the sandcastle episode after the rubber ring one. He wants to build the best one. But have you seen his nonexistent artistic skills? His creations wouldn't look great, that's all we can tell. Please, help him building a pretty sandcastle, he's so sad. Poor baby.
"Don't get a sunburn, y/n." While lending you his straw hat.
"Y/N, have you seen those crabs? Y/N, have you seen how funny this seaweed is? Y/N, have you seen this stone? Oh, Y/N, this cloud looks like Zoro, don't you think?"
He wants to catch all the crabs and winkles he can find. And would probably end up organizing a crab fight. If his favorite one loses, then the poor baby will be sad again. He's so fluffy when he pouts.
He is eager to try and do everything with you. So you better follow him, because going to the beach with Luffy means you'll never be able to rest peacefully under the parasol. He's too energized to sleep peacefully.
And if you're sleeping, he would bury you under the sand, so when you wake up, your body is totally covered up, the only thing you can do is moving your toes and head while Luffy laughs loudly and proudly. His laugh is so endearing, you can't be angry with him.
"Gum-Gum… ice-cream stolen"
Prepare to run away from the guy who is mad at him.
Overall? Not relaxing at all, but funny as hell.
Law
If Luffy is like an overexcited dog, Law is like a cat forced to bathe. Have you already tried bathing a cat? Do you end up with scratches? It's nothing compared to Law.
"Bepo, don't sharpen your claws on the deck!" "What? But it's not me. It's Law, Y/N decided to bring him to the beach. They had to drag him to the ground.
Yes, Law probably hates the beach. It's a noisy place with noisy people, the food smells bad, the children are annoying, and the sand is irritating. And please, the sea is like the toilet for the fish and all those disgusting people. He's so pissed off to be here.
"Why me, Y/N-ya?"
"Aren't you happy? The sun is beautiful today! You need to take some breaks from your work."
His sole response would be an annoyed scowl.
Ain't no way for him to wear a swimsuit. He's conserving all his clothing, even the hat. And he's standing under the parasol with his arms crossed. All the people around are probably avoiding him, and that's for the best because a 'room, shambles' could happen really fast if they dare to make a comment about his non-appropriate clothes.
Law would remind you to apply sunscreen on a regular basis. And he wouldn't mind applying it himself. He loves the feeling of your skin against his palms, it feels like heaven.
He would remind you to drink water frequently. And to wet your neck before swimming. Certainly, he's watching closely the entire time. He may be mad, but he cares about you. Prepare yourself to have a shadow following you everywhere. If you're too far from him, he'll use his DF to bring you back to him.
"Please, help me, my child needs a doctor!" He's annoyed as hell. Even at the beach, work is still pursuing him. Of course, if someone asked for a doctor, he would help. He's frustrated because he can't take care of someone and keep an eye on you at the same time.
If you give him onigiri, he will look like a child: pouting while eating silently.
"Y/n-ya, don't touch this, it's a toxic seaweed.", "y/n-ya, come here, you have to stay hydrated."
He would lend you his own hat if you forgot yours, while he's standing under the parasol. "Do not lose my hat."
No swimming for him. He'll stay away from the cursed water. Just like Kid, ain't no way for him to wear armbands. And if you Try to throw some water on his face, he would look like a wet cat: shocked and angry. Beware, he yowls.
Overall? You had fun. And even if Law acts annoyed all the time, secretly, he would love to have a break day with you. On his desk, he would keep the beautiful shell you found on the beach and give it to him.
#one piece headcanons#one piece x reader#eustass kid x reader#eustass kid headcanons#eustass kid x y/n#eustass kid x you#eustass kid imagine#eustasscaptainkid#eustass kid#one piece x you#one piece requests#trafalgar d water law#trafalgar law x reader#trafalgardwaterlaw#trafalgar law headcanons#trafalgar law#law headcanons#trafalgar law x you#law x y/n#law x reader#sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji#black leg sanji#sanji x you#sanji x y/n#one piece sanji#sanji headcanons#zoro roronoa x reader#zoro headcanons#zoro x reader
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got love struck went straight to my head
alexia x reader smut :) 18+
alexia has been in a bad mood all week. she finally tells r what she needs to feel better. bottom alexia rights [literally thought i would die writing top alexia but i had a few requests, and this was fun].
Alexia was irritable, in a way you hadn't seen her since her injury. This time, though, you really weren't sure what the cause was. She was playing well, the team was playing well. The two of you weren't having any problems, as far as you could tell. Nothing had changed in the last week, except that Alexia was acting like she had a stick up her ass 24 hours a day. She barely spoke, opting instead to glare at everyone around her, and when she did speak, it was to snap at whoever was nearest.
You were tired of it and so was the team. Your teammates had been approaching you all week, asking what you'd done to piss Alexia off. You didn't have an answer, and you were just going to let it run it's course, sure her moodiness would pass. That was until Jona pulled you aside after practice, telling you that whatever was going, you had to fix it, because he couldn't take another day with grumpy Alexia.
She was clearly upset about something. The thing was that Alexia was very much the dominant one in the relationship. You weren't really used to having to strong arm her into talking to you; normally she had to do that with you. You'd give it your best shot, though, not really sure how it would go.
You made your move after practice that day, walking into the living room to find her on the couch, grumpy look on her face, scrolling on her phone. Deciding to be bold, you grabbed it out of her hand, and put it in your pocket. She looked up at you, raising an eyebrow, and wordlessly reaching her hand out for you to give it back. It was hard not to, honestly; Alexia could be incredibly intimidating when she wanted, and you weren't used to being on the receiving end of it.
"I want to talk."
"I do not." She responded bitingly, really glaring up at you now.
"Alexia," you sigh, taking a seat on the couch next to her outstretched legs. "What is going on with you?"
"I do not know what you are talking about." She said stubbornly, crossing her arms. She looked like the picture of defiance, like a child refusing to eat her vegetables.
"Love, you absolutely do. You've been mean to everyone this week, including me."
There was a flicker of insecurity across her face at that.
"Alexia, it's me. Tell me what's going on. If something is bothering you, I want to know, I want to help."
Alexia gazed up at you, weighing her options. She took a deep breath, but didn't speak. Instead she grabbed your hand, lacing her fingers with yours.
"I need you." She murmured. You weren't really sure what she meant, and you didn't want to read the situation wrong.
"What do you need from me, baby?"
Alexia squirmed slightly, a blush heating her cheeks.
"You" she responds. You thought you understood now, but it didn't make much sense. Obviously, you and Alexia hadn't had sex in the past week, because she'd been in a horrible mood, but you hadn't gone long without it. Certainly not long enough to warrant the desperate, pleading look in her eyes. Something else was going on, you were sure.
"You have me, Alexia, I don't understand." You figured playing dumb may get Alexia to get frustrated enough to tell you what she really wanted. It worked.
"No, amor, I need you. I need you to fuck me," she declared, looking somewhat unsure. Normally, she was the one that did the fucking. Of course, she got off too, but the way she said it seemed like she wanted you to be in charge. If anyone was a textbook top by definition it was Alexia. You hadn't considered that she wasn't entirely happy in this role.
You remove your hand from her grasp, instead resting it on her thigh. Her breath catches, and you know exactly what she wants.
"Are you needy, baby?" Alexia only nods her head in response, cheeks still flushed red. "Is that why you've been grouchy all week? Because you need me to fuck you?"
"Si, I need it so bad," she responds, almost breathless from your hand moving up and down her thigh.
"Alexia, why didn't you tell me that?"
You would fuck her. You just needed her to understand that she had to ask for the things she wanted, especially when they weren't the norm between you two. Alexia's eyes drop from yours as she shrugs.
"I know you like it when I am in charge. I did not know if you would be open to changing things up," she admits.
"I want what you want. If you want me to be in charge, I will. I need to hear you say it, though, Alexia. Tell me exactly what you want." You're fully teasing now, unashamed.
Alexia squeezes her eyes shut, summoning her nerve, before she opens her eyes again.
"I want you to tell me what to do, I will be good for you. I want you to fuck me, please, amor," she said, her voice quiet. You truly had been completely unaware that Alexia had a thing for praise. It was not something you'd be forgetting any time.
"With what?" You ask. The question takes a second to register. You can tell the second she understands, though, because her face turns even redder, which you didn't know was possible.
"Your cock," Alexia whispers, and you smile smugly down at her. You stand, and she rises quickly, a whine escaping her lips. You turn back to her, bringing her in for a heated kiss. She allows you you take complete control, one of your hands lacing into her hair, holding her securely against you. You pull back after a minute, not letting her get too far.
"Take your clothes off, and get on the bed." You tell her, your words not more than a whisper against her lips. You really are startled at how fast the midfielder follows your instructions.
You take your time, heading into the bedroom after her once you're sure she's had enough time. You find her sitting on the edge of the bed, completely naked, looking nervous. You don't want her nervous, though, not at all. You cross the room fast, gently taking her face in your hands.
"Take a breath, baby," you tell her. "We'll only do what you're comfortable with, and we can stop whenever you want, alright?"
Alexia nods, looking more reassured. She leans up, lips searching for yours. You kiss her softly, pouring your love into it, hoping to ease the rest of her anxiety. She looks dazed when you pull back, and you know you've succeeded.
"Lay down," you tell her, and she does. You allow your eyes to hungrily scan her body, taking in her full breasts, her rippling abs. Her thighs are parted slightly, and you're sure you're seeing wrong when you think you see wetness smeared along the insides. There's no way she was wet enough for that yet.
You take your time taking your own clothes off, stripping right in front of her, eyes not leaving hers. Her pupils are blown wide looking up at you, and her legs are pressed together. You move to the bedside drawer, pulling out the harness she normally wears, and the dildo you love taking the most. You step into it, fitting the cock into the harness, but struggling to tighten it around your hips.
You walk back over to her as you fight with it, and Alexia's fingers quickly replace yours, expertly tightening the straps around your body. Her eyes are stuck on the strap, her lips parting slightly, before she looks up at you.
"Can I suck it?" she asks. You try not to let your surprise show, as you tell her she can. Not a second later, she's taking your length into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down. She gets it nice and wet, before she takes it fully down her throat, gagging slightly.
You're sure your jaw is dropped at the filthy sight in front of you, and you can only watch as Alexia chokes on your cock, eyes shutting as she moves. You tangle your hand in her hair, gathering it in a makeshift ponytail, before tugging lightly on it. She moans in response, and you're encouraged, guiding her to move faster against the fake dick.
After a few minutes, Alexia has tears in her eyes, and spit dripping from her chin. You pull your strap out of her mouth, gently wiping her face off with a towel you always kept near the bed.
"Good?" you check, thumb moving softly back and forth across her cheek as she pants for breath.
"Si, soy tan buena" she replies breathlessly. You guide her to scoot back on the bed, climbing on top of her. Once again, you connect your lips with hers, pushing your tongue into her mouth, easily dominating the kiss. You nibble on her bottom lip, relishing in tiny whine she lets out into your mouth, feeling her hips move under you.
You move your leg to nudge her legs apart, not breaking the kiss, and press your thigh up against her core. You pull back from her face in shock, as she is completely drenched. Her eyes are closed, and she is completely focused on grinding against your leg. You leave it for now, pressing your lips back to hers, making out for several minutes as she moves against you.
When she begins to pant into your mouth, not able to keep up with your kisses, you pull back, removing your leg from in between hers. Her eyes fly open, looking up at you desperately. You climb off of her, spreading legs wide open, and taking in the sight in front of you. She is literally dripping, hole clenching and unclenching, clit peeking out of it's hood. You're sure you've never felt her this wet before.
"You're fucking soaking, baby," you whisper, and she nods. "Is this all for me?" you ask, gently running your index finger through her slick. Her hips buck up into your hand.
"Si, all for you, bonita. Please, I need you," she begs, eyes wide. Having heard enough, you push her legs farther apart, and bend down, running your tongue through her. She moans at the first contact, and you press a hand onto her abdomen, stopping her movements against you. You know what Alexia likes, and you know she is in no mood to be teased, so you set a fast past with your tongue, pushing in and out of her entrance.
You lick her wetness up, though it's quickly replaced, enjoying the salty tase of her on your tongue. You focus on her pussy for another minute, before moving up to flick your tongue across her clit. She cries out at this, hands tangling in your hair. You pull away.
"Play with your nipples," you instruct, and she complies instantly, bring her hands away from your hair, up to her sensitive chest. She rolls her nipples in between her fingers, and you reconnect your mouth with her core. She's been wet enough for a while, but only now do you ease a finger into her. It slides in easily, and soon, a second joins it. You keep your pace steady, wanting her to ask for more.
"Mas rapida, por favor," she gasps, body writhing on the mattress. You give in, beginning to pump your fingers in and out of her at a rapid pace. At the same time, you take her clit into your mouth, suckling hard on it, and Alexia comes hard, crying out your name. You work her through it, listening to her whimpers as she comes down, hips still moving in tandem with your hands.
You stand, pulling her to the edge of the bed, legs wrapping around your waist to keep you against her. You drag your strap over her center, enjoying the way she moves against you, desperate for more.
"Amor, no more teasing," she pleads. "Need your cock in me,"
"Okay, baby," you soothe. "You've been so good for me, gonna fuck you now," you tell her, watching, entranced, as she gasps at your words. You line up and push into her. Alexia lets out a guttural moan, and you almost do as well, struck with how tight you find her. She's soaked, though, and she doesn't seem to be uncomfortable at all as you drag your cock in and out of her at a slow pace.
Alexia is in a state of pure pleasure under you, hands fisted in the sheets, head thrown back. Your arms are wrapped around her legs, and you start to move faster, gripping her hard. You're pushing in deep, and she moves one of her hands down, desperate for more stimulation. Just as she's about to make contact with her swollen clit, you grab her hand and press it back into the mattress. Her eyes fly open, looking up at you desperately.
"No, no. I'll take care of you, pretty girl, you just relax," you state, moving your hand from where it held her thigh, moving her leg out of the way, and beginning to rub firm circles over her clit. Alexia is moaning with every thrust now, and you know she's close. Her hand comes down again, this time to grab your free one. She brings it up, guiding it to wrap around her throat. Your eyes search hers, needing to know that she is completely comfortable. You only see arousal in her eyes, and you squeeze lightly. That's all it takes, before she's falling over the edge, body spasming as she comes.
You let up for only a minute as she comes down, pulling out only to flip her onto her stomach. You pull her hips up, before sliding back in, and she whimpers at the stimulation.
"One more for me, beautiful, wanna come with you," you tell her. Alexia's back arches more, and her ass presses back into you. You palm it with one hand, feeling the harness press against your clit. Normally, you don't think it would be enough for you, but the sight of her under you, fucking back against your strap as she breaths hard, watching your strap disappear into her, coming out dripping, is more than enough.
Your groan as you pound into her, pressing in harder and faster than you were before.
"Are you going to come with me, Ale?" you ask.
"Si, estoy tan cerca, amor," she responds, words broken up by whines. You can see a sheen of sweat on her back, and take in how her legs shake under her, and know she is close.
"So good for me, Ale. My good girl. You like it when I fuck you, hmm?"
Alexia's hips stutter as she gets closer, your words dragging her towards the edge, fast.
"Si, si mi amor, soy tu buena chica," she gasps, apparently losing the ability to speak english.
"Come for me now Alexia, come on my cock," you grunt through gritted teeth, hips pressing in as you feel your orgasm begin to wash over you. Alexia screams out your name, neighbors completely forgotten, as you bury your cock deep inside her one last time, grinding against her as you work yourself through your orgasm. You collapse on top of her, resting her forehead on her back, panting.
Alexia is a mess beneath you, and you pull out slowly, maneuvering her onto her back, despite barely being able to move yourself. Alexia looks incredibly overstimulated, though, body still twitching. Once on her back, Alexia lets out a pitiful cry, reaching for you. You slide back onto the bed, pulling her into your side.
"Mi niña perfecta, te amo mucho, Ale," you tell her, pressing light kisses onto the side of her face. She's still silent, nuzzling her face into your body. You rub her back soothingly, waiting for her body to stop trembling.
"Thank you," she says quietly, the words mumbled into your neck.
"Of course, Alexia. Next time, tell me what you want, hmm? Don't make our whole team suffer because you need me to fuck you."
Alexia laughs against you. It will be enjoyable, tomorrow, to watch her try to explain to your teammates what was behind the sudden change in mood.
-----
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~ IT'S FATE, RIGHT? ~ ARRANGED MARRIAGE PROMPTS
requested by: various anons
requests: see full requests at the end of the post
Feel free to use and reblog!
Part 1 (kinda): 10 marriage of convenience prompts
Setting/action:
#1 - freaking out briefly every morning when they realise they're sharing the house with their newlywed spouse
#2 - finding out new quirks of the other with great fascination
#3 - trying to willingly make the other a part of their daily habits
#4 - getting that strange feeling in their belly whenever they introduce the other as their "spouse"
#5 - being awkward around each other because they don't know how polite or how casual they should be
#6 - being nervous because how do you do the married thing?
#7 - slowly but surely growing fond of the other
#8 - getting used to the other's company and being completely thrown when they're suddenly in a situation on their own
#9 - making time to have dates to get to know the other better because you should know your spouse, right? (there's absolutely nothing romantic about it, alright?)
#10 - biting their tongue because somehow everything they say comes out as flirty and that's not who they are, right?
Dialogue:
#11 - "We have to be married, but we don't have to pretend we are that lovey-dovey newlyweds when we're clearly not." "I'm just trying to be nice."
#12 - "You... look pretty." "Really? You never said that before." "Well, then certainly I was blind."
#13 - "Wow, you're actually really fun to be around." "Well, and you really have to work on your compliment skills."
#14 - "You don't know how glad I am that fate brought us together. This is much more pleasant than I had thought."
#15 - "I think we're doing this pretty well. I am certainly glad to have you by my side while figuring out all this being married stuff."
#16 - "Who would have thought we would end up like this?"
#17 - "Thank you for being so patient with me." "How I see it, marriage isn't about intense feelings and going all in for one particular moment. It's about making a promise for the future and every day to come to stick it out together and be each other's backbone. What is marriage if not patience?"
#18 - "May I ask you something? Why me? It's certainly not because you were madly in love with me. So, why me?"
#19 - "We're the bestest of teams, aren't we? Unstoppable! The ultimate duo!"
#20 - "Even though this was meant to be a rational affair and just a wise deal, you changed my life. Marrying you was both the best and the most nerve-racking thing I could've done."
(requests: hii i was thinking could you do like a newly arranged marriage thing and like action prompts and dialogue prompts where they haven't gotten too comfortable around the other yet but they're starting to like each other or something 😭 I hope I could explain it somewhat well;
Hey could you do an arranged marriage prompt where they don't hate each other but are just nervous around each other ish;
arranged marriage secret affection prompts?)
#arranged marriage prompts#arranged marriage au#writing prompts#prompt list#prompts#otp prompts#otp#fanfic prompts#romance prompts#romantic prompts#writing ideas#writing inspiration#writers on tumblr#writeblr#fluff prompts#setting prompts#dialogue prompts#20 prompts
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I was wondering if you would write Clarisse larue x daughter of Hecate headcannons??
⇢ ˗ˏˋ clarisse la rue x hecate!daughter ࿐ྂ
a/n: okay so there is a full fledged fic coming of this but i just thought this would be cute for some general clarisse x hecate!daughter!reader content bc i love writing headcanons
okay so first thing's first, this pairing is the definition of opposite's attract
clarisse is just such an intense person, and hecate kiddos are like, famously chill
you probably fell for clarisse first, from afar, because hecate kids and ares kids don't generally run in the same circles
like there's no bad blood or anything, they just aren't very alike so they don't usually hangout
once clarisse did notice you, the two of you started hanging out pretty frequently
there was a period where you both had heart eyes whenever you were near each other, but were both convinced that the other would never like one, and so you were both just practically prancing around each other, doing your best to hide your feelings
(and not really succeeding)
this period was pretty much hell for all of your friends
because the two of you would rave to your mutual friends when the other wasn't there about how much you like each other, and they would just have to sit there and internally scream and hope that you two get together soon
you probably found out when someone accidentally let it slip that you two like each other
after a very long, heartfelt conversation, the two of you were officially dating!
now for the dynamic of your relationship!
clarisse is extremely protective over you
if anyone even looks at you wrong, she's there defending you
you find this really romantic, but sometimes it can get overwhelming because you don't love confrontation, and she does, so sometimes you just want her to leave the situation alone
she can usually tell when you're in this mood, so the two of you just leave the situation before clarisse can get more heated
you're one of the only people that can really calm clarisse down
as previously aforementioned, she's a very intense person, and gets really intense emotions that she doesn't really know how to deal with them, which is something you can help with
just being in your presence calms clarisse down
going back to the protectiveness thing randomly, clarisse always makes sure that hecate cabin is on the same team as ares cabin, and even though everyone knows it's so she can protect you, everyone pretends they don't know
hecate kids obviously participate in capture the flag but they're not the most helpful
so you're not all that bothered when clarisse takes you to a nice, safe place in the woods where she hunts around you to make sure that nobody gets close to you
one time someone from the blue team managed to snag you as a prisoner for the red team, and when clarisse found out she went on a literal rampage
chiron had to step in and tell clarisse to calm down
when blue team finally released you, clarisse just held onto your hand with a really angry look on her face
when you two were alone she finally expressed how nervous she'd been
another big thing to mention: you are clarisse's biggest weakness
she loves and cares about you so much, and as much as she tries to hide it, she kinda can't, so she knows that if anyone were ever trying to get to her, they would go to you first, and she really hates that
there was a time in the beginning of your relationship when clarisse tried to break it off, saying that it wouldn't be safe
and you reminded her that you are also a demigod, and just existing as a demigod isn't safe, so she'd better just get over it
she did, and now the two of you are still together and happy!
clarisse tries to pretend like she has some independence from you, but everyone knows that she doesn't
clarisse gets even more irritable during the winter months because she can't see you everyday like she can during the summer when you're both at camp
clarisse is a year rounder camper, but you aren't, so she always tries to get you to come back for weekends and school breaks
you're always giving clarisse different crystals to help with different things
one of the first things you gave her was a rose quartz necklace, and she practically never takes it off
she rarely ever takes it out from under her shirt because again, she's paranoid about the whole thing of you being her biggest weakness
but it's always there, and she sometimes can be seen holding tightly to it when in tense situations and/or nervous about something
she thinks of it as somewhat of a tether to your love
which sounds cheesy, so don't ever tell anyone clarisse told you that
or else
(she says jokingly)
clarisse is a very touchy partner
she likes to act like she isn't, because she's all tough or whatever
and wanting to be hugged and cuddled every once in a while means that she isn't tough apparently
you've told her a million times this isn't true, but she doesn't believe you
sometimes the two of you will cuddle in front of the campfire, and clarisse is always hesitant because there's so many people around, but all you have to do is bat your eyelashes (and occasionally make grabby hands if she's feeling more stubborn) and then she's there, cuddling with you
when the two of you are alone though... oh my god she will not stop touching you
if you like get up to go to the bathroom she starts complaining immediately about how the two of you were all warm and comfortable and then you had to go and ruin it
she shuts up when you come back though
when you brought clarisse home to meet your mortal parent... let's just say it was an entertaining day
clarisse likes to present herself as a very put together person, and that not much can shake her
but oh dear gods
you're sure that you've never seen her look more nervous than on the way to your mortal parent's house
like sweating and stammering and acting soooo nervous
she wants to make a really good impression, but kinda believes that she can't
it doesn't help that you kiss her in front of your front door to help calm her down, and THAT'S when your parent opens the door
she actually does end up making a good impression, but she still leaves thinking it went horribly
it probably would take a lot of convincing for clarisse to introduce you to her mom, if she ever does, because the two of them aren't on the best terms
basically, the two of you are so freaking in love it kinda disgusts your friends, but it's better now than it was when the two of you were pretending you didn't like each other
thank you so much for reading! there wasn't a lot in this abt the hecate!daughter thing it was basically just dating clarisse headcanons so i apologize for that but i am open to doing a part 2!
#percy jackson#clarisse la rue#clarisse larue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse larue x reader#clarisse la rue fluff#hecate!daughter#hecate!daughter!reader#hecate#pjo#hoo#headcanons#xanasaurusrex#xan's anons#xan's requests
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