#mat makes mistakes. then he listens to people when they tell him he fucked up. and he tries to do better.
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I have a lot of mixed feelings about MatPat.
On the one hand, he definitely has a streak of bigotry. The pyro episode really comes to mind on that one, and his refusal to they/them Kris was also not cool, and there have been a lot of other examples here and there.
But he has been getting better. One of his Livestream hosts uses they/them from what I can tell, and I haven't heard any word that he's misgendered them anywhere.
But also, his theories have just been getting lower and lower quality as his channels kinda turned into something one step below a content farm. His Digital Circus theory, for example, he came up with ON GTLive and then just cleaned it up for the episode.
But he was also hosting all four channels. Each channel will have its own host now.
He made a lot of mistakes, but so does everyone.
Am I defending him? I dont know. Do I forgive him? No. Do I honestly care? ...I don't know.
I'm glad he's stepping away. But I'm also gonna miss him.
Like he said in the goodbye video, he was a lot of peoples childhoods. Mine was one of them. He's definitely not the best person nor was he the best influence, but he did help me realize that being a nerd and being passionate are good things. And his passion helped me want to create.
I'm glad he's leaving, but it also feels like my childhood is going with him. One last step towards that all-encompassing 21 in a few months from now.
I'll miss you, Mat. I hope you can continue to grow as a person and support others more in the future. Teach your son what the world failed to teach you when you were younger.
Also read the tags, please, okay Tumblr? Thanks.
#im scared to post this. i know people on here dont like him and i 100% understand why#but i also fear that people assume he can't grow#i may be wrong as ive been staying away from matpat drama but from what ive seen?#mat makes mistakes. then he listens to people when they tell him he fucked up. and he tries to do better.#people forget that hes a person sometimes.#and like i said i could be wrong. there might be evidence out there that hes an evangelical or something#but i havent seen it. i do know about the homophobia and transphobia from the past#but i also know hes apologized and that stuff hasnt really resurfaced#i want him to do better and continue to grow away from the internet#but if im wrong then im wrong.#just please dont harass me for this post okay?#if hes worse than i think he is you can tell me but please dont be mean about it#ive had enough people yelling at me.over this shit recently.#mat if youre SOMEHOW reading this? thanks. your stuff helped me watch to enrich my stories more#give people something to hunt for#you aided my passion#and i wouldnt be who i am today without you man.#so please. keep growing. keep doing better. and i guess i'll see ya when i see ya.#dimond speaks#not maintagging this cuz i dont wanna get killed lol
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RANDOM HC FOR MY AU'S
masterlist | a/n please feel free to send in requests for these au's!
NEVER GROW UP ( ME94 )
- mark & mama cookie met after mark 'accidentally' cut a huge chunck of her hair off in their freshman year of high school. he claimed he had a muscle spasm
- when mama cookie found out she was pregnant, she immediately called mark out of panic.
- mama cookie's biggest craving while pregnant was mint ice cream and lime lays
- mama cookie is in school to be an infusion nurse and mark is always willing to be her patient.
- nez's first word was "uck" aka fuck. she said it after mark had lost his 4th round of uno with Luke, Ethan, Mackie, and Dylan. mama cookie was out with friends and he tried to desperately to get her to stop saying it before she got home.
- he failed.
- people (minus friend & family) didn't know about mama cookie and nez until their sophomore year of college when he hard launched them on insta
- when the team found out about mama cookie and nez, they were shocked. how was the most aggressive player in the BIG10 also a soft girl dad?
- Inez was in fact named after Blake Lively's daughter & mark loves to talk about it.
- "yeah, she's the blake to my ryan so why not have an inez?"
KING OF MY HEART (JH86)
- jack & darling hard launched on his draft day.
- "we are proud to select jack hughes" *turns to darling & full blown makes out with her for a solid 3 seconds*
- in the back of the shot you can see trevor fake vomiting
- darling stayed with Trevor during his rookie year before moving to Newark when Jack got injured
- they have a pregnancy scare like every 3 weeks. they think it's crazy that she hasn't gotten pregnant yet
- darling is the pickyist eater mf ever.
- like she hates when her food touches so she has those kid plates that separate the food
- she is a sucker for true crime and loves to listen to true crime
- jack is terrified of her sometimes cause of how much she listens to true crime podcasts. he's scared that one day she'll murder him and get away with it cause she learned from the mistakes of these other guys
OUR SONG (WJ53)
- sugar went to University of Michigan for a semester before moving to UTA
- wyatt gave y/n the nickname, 'sugar', because of her sweet tooth
- they met when sugar accidentally hit joe's car while trying to reverse park
- joe and wyatt were in the car
- wyatt took one look at her and freaked out cause he thought it was his fault
- they were both apologizing to each other and joe just stood there and was like 🤨🥹 cause he knew they were perfect for each other
- the rest was history
- once wyatt and she started to get a little more serious, she basically moved in with the Pavelski's and shared a room with wyatt
- sugar didn't tell anyone (minus tito) about wyatt and didn't plan on it but some paparazzi saw them together took some pictures which were published with headlines, "Y/N BARZAL NEW LOVER?! A HOCKEY PLAYER?"
- mat & liana called her and both were more mad about the fact that she told tito and not them than her actually dating wyatt
ENCHANTED AU (AF11)
- peach and adam met when she wanted a hoodie from luke and she just popped up uninvited into the sophmore house while the froshies were there
- he was like, "you're just gonna let the strange girl barge in🤨"
- she ended up staying and got really close with adam
- peach is closest with jack out of all of her brothers
- peach loves to sprawl out ontop on adam and just lay there
- their first date was a failed attempt at a picnic (adam forgot the food and then it started pouring on them)
- adam walks her to all of her classes even if it means he'a late
- peach's insta is private (sometimes she'll let some fans in) but she and adam have each others first intial in their bios, 'A<3' 'y/f/i 💞'
- they got hard launched after the frozen four when phil posted a dump of the trip they had all went on after.
- included was a picture of ethan and mark drowning each other but in the back you can see the two kissing
- phil took it down after numerous threats from peach
#enchanted au#our song au#king of my heart au#never grow up au#adam fantilli x reader#wyatt johnston x reader#jack hughes x reader#mark estapa x reader#umich hockey#x reader#jack hughes#mark estapa#luke hughes#adam fantilli#wyatt johnston
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2. day six
holy shit hi! it's me! I'm back! I will be very surprised if anybody remembers me or this story given that it's been literally six months since I posted the first chapter. my motivation, interest, energy and amount of free time for this project all fluctuate, but... this story feels like it wants to be told, and I want to tell it. so hopefully I'll manage to pop up around here with an update for it every once in a while.
Content warnings for this chapter: box boy universe, pet whump, dehumanization, cages, blood mention. I'm still getting the hang of how to tag these so please let me know if there's anything I missed.
[masterlist] [chapter one] [chapter three]
Vanessa means to wait until an hour before closing time to go to the shelter. Really, she does. She wants to give this guy as much of a chance as he can get to go home with someone, literally anyone, who’s better for him than she is. But it’s lunchtime and she’s already practically vibrating. She’s not even used to being awake by noon anymore, much less having already been up for hours refreshing the site so often it’s making her nauseous. Or maybe that’s just the all-consuming anxiety of suspense.
What if the assholes at the shelter decide that six days is close enough, and take him away before she even gets there? What if she’s fucked up and counted the days wrong, and he’s actually scheduled to die today? What if the subway’s delayed, or the shelter closes early, and she’s too late, and another person dies because she made a stupid fucking mistake?
What if, says the voice in the back of her head that she refuses to listen to, somebody takes him who’s even worse for him than me?
“Oh, fuck literally all of this,” she says to the empty room, and grabs her coat.
—
“Uh, hey, I’m here to…”
“Sign in on the sheet.” The bored-looking shelter employee doesn’t so much as glance up from her phone. Vanessa looks around; the lobby is totally devoid of anyone save for the two of them.
“I just want to know if—”
“Sign in on the sheet.”
Vanessa breathes out through her nose until her hand stops ticking long enough to write. She scribbles her name and the time, and sets the pen down with a deliberate clack on the desk directly in front of the employee.
The woman barely raises her head. “How can I help you.”
Vanessa steels herself. “Is, uh… Do you still have…” God she hates talking about people like this she hates it she hates it she hates it. “Is pet number 414374 still here? I want to…” She wants to choke on the word. “...I want to adopt him.”
The employee’s affect goes duller than ever. “Oh, he’s still here, alright,” she mutters grimly.
Vanessa only realizes how much tension she’s been holding when it floods out of her so fast she almost loses her balance. “Can I see him?”
“If you really want to,” the employee sighs. “But I’m tellin’ you, lady, you’re not gonna like what you find.”
—
“That’s him?!”
“Told you you were gonna be disappointed, lady.”
Vanessa gapes. It’s not like she’s been expecting to be okay with seeing people in cages, but she sure as shit didn’t expect… whatever the fuck she’s looking at now.
The dude is filthy, caked head to toe in blood, dirt and worse. The hair that flowed around him in his picture is matted down his back now, littered with scores of dead and decaying leaves. His ice-blue eyes are dull and unfocused. His breaths are quick and shallow, and the way they rasp in his throat makes Vanessa twitch.
He’s lying in a heap on the single layer of newspaper between him and the inch-wide mesh of the shelter-standard cage. Vanessa sucks at math, but she thinks it can’t be more than three by three by five. The shelter profile listed him at six foot two.
The employee bangs on the metal with the back of her hand, making a horrible clanging sound that makes Vanessa want to claw her own ears off. “Hey, look alive, refurb. You got one more interested owner. Maybe try to impress this one for a change?”
“Can he even—” Vanessa starts, but the guy surprises her by slowly, painfully lifting his head. The dirt that coats his skin cracks and flakes as he struggles to push himself up on his elbows. He reaches jerkily for the front of the cage, arms trembling violently with the effort, his breathing growing more and more labored as he tries to meet her gaze.
In the split second before he collapses again, she swears he manages it.
—
“I want him.”
The employee has already turned to go, talking over her shoulder as she ambles back toward the desk. “Yeah, so if you're lookin’ for a fancy one you could try the Manhattan shelter, they sometimes—hang on, you what?” She twists back abruptly as the words actually register.
“I want him,” Vanessa says again.
The employee stares at her for a long, long minute. Vanessa can almost see her fighting the urge to blurt out, “why?” Finally, though, she collects herself, with a wildly overexaggerated shrug of her shoulders.
“It’s your money, lady,” she says, and unlocks the cage.
#whump#pet whump#rescue whump#recovery whump#bbu#box boy universe#vanessa + juniper#disaster caretaker#imperfectly consistent#tw dehumanization#tw cages#tw blood mention#I am once again posting this to yeet it out of editing perdition#this chapter was supposed to be slightly longer#but this feels like a better place to stop#and I didn't feel like writing the other shit#so that'll be its own chapter or interlude later#assuming I ever update again lmao (this is legally a joke I very much do want to update again actually)
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Hello shushiyuii! I just wanted to share an Idea for a possible continuation of the "safety from exile" oneshot you made a while ago.
My Idea is that after Ranboo rescued Tommy he now lives with them to hide from Dream. But one day there is an unexpected knock on the door and they both panic so Ranboo noms Tommy to keep him hidden. However it's Tubbo at the door and not Dream like they feared. Ranboo invites Tubbo inside because he can tell that somethings bothering him. So the two(three) of them hang out for awhile and Tubbo slowly opens up about his problems. He admits he's feeling stressed because he's worried about Tommy and that he regrets exiling him. Tommy who was listening in from Ranboo's stomach wants to comfort him so he tells Ranboo to let him out. He does and what follows is a heartfull Clingyduo reunion where they make up followed by benchtrio cuddles. Possibly with Tubbo nomming Tommy to reassure himself that Tommy is safe and back with him. So yeah. That's my Idea. I'd love it if you could write something like that but I understand if you don't want to/don't have the time. I hope you have a nice day
Words: 1,342
Warnings: Mention of death, depression, starving and thirst. Other than that it's mainly hurt/comfort
Notes: I am impulsively writing this at 3am so im sorry for any grammar mistakes. this is the first time i've written in a while, i can't say itll be any good or anything. I don't think this is some return either
But in general regards to an update. Im doing fine and I love this idea btw, im sorry if isn't up to standard.
“N-no…I don’t want… STOP!”, whatever remained of his voice screeched. It felt forced, harsh. When was the last time he had drank anything besides salty sea water? When was the last time he had a proper food source that wasn’t something he could forage?
He lifted the sheets from his side and shivered from the rags that covered his body, despite being probably tucked in. The sudden change in temperature didn’t do his fuzzy head much favors either.
“Fucking…”, he couldn’t finish the ramble. He fiddled with what remained in his pockets for anything but found nothing, no health potion to quell his aching head. Despite that, he stood up. Wiping his eyes from the uneasiness of waking up.
He let out a yawn as he examined his surroundings, they were not all too familiar to him. It didn’t feel natural. The other day he was handling explosions to the body as if it were any normal everyday occurrence. Anything ordinary felt the opposite. Nowhere felt safe anymore.
He knew where he was though, despite everything. A dried and empty sigh passed his lips, devoid of emotion. He was tired, so tired yet he managed. He wasn’t surprised that the emotional backlash was now hitting him.
He turned to a mirror, he’s surprised that Ranboo even kept one in his room. Typically endermen hate the stares of people, including their own reflections. Perhaps Ranboo was immune to its effects.
He was sickly pale, his hair matted so far that he could hardly recall how he used to keep it kept. Whatever remained of his shirt was rotted, the bright red faded and shoulder exposed. His trousers that had stayed with him through war were now barely held together with strings in his opinion, they’d practically turned to shorts.
His eyes… People used to say they were full of ambition, promise… A burning passion that could surpass even the god’s wills, was now hollow and dull. Is this how Theseus felt during his fall?
It mattered not, whatever safety he had was only temporary. Even now, he should be cautious. He would be considered a fugitive.
A knock came from the door, he was quick to alert. The next thing he knew was instinct was taking over him and he hid behind the door frame and grabbed whatever he could to be a weapon, a golden hoe.
It wouldn’t cause much damage but it could certainly knock them to confusion for a short while if hit in the right spots. He readied himself, prepared that it would take his last life. He was always prepared for this, it was what he had been trained for in war.
He was pretty sure Techno taught him that.
Steady breaths, aim…
STRIKE!
An inhumane sound spat out from whoever tried to enter, alerted. They had managed to dodge the boy’s sabotage. The hoe had now struck into the floorboards, whatever strength or adrenaline he used during that swing was all that had remained of his strength as he fell to the ground.
“Tommy!”, the hybrid called out in a hurry, worried. He had no care for his near death, concerns immediately went to his friend. Tommy wiped his brow which had accumulated sweat and looked to Ranboo, deep in his eyes.
He flinched at the sudden eye contact but remained, usually that would trigger an enderman but Ranboo remained still, unmoving.
He hadn’t noticed he wasn’t breathing at all and coughed out whatever was left of his charcoaled lungs. Letting out an old man's cough, he wasn’t even a smoker like Wilbur had been. How fucked were his lungs?
He eventually managed to get his breath back and stood up properly, still winded but having calmed down from his unnecessary reaction. He knew he was in no danger, but his body still reacted that way.
Some things just don't change, do they?
[...]
After the unnecessary scare, Ranboo had brought him to a common room and only now he had realized how big this place was. Wherever he was, it wasn’t familiar in the slightest. It was all new to him.
But even then, he could tell the place was new. The smell of freshly cut oak and lack of decorated pots and chairs or lavish tables, the place was newly constructed. It was probably an estate if he had to guess, Ranboo’s estate.
He had also been given a red sweater, stained with blue. He was told that it was a sweater handed out to guests, but by the faded blue stains. He knew who had come here previously, he shoved down any emotion that threatened his integrity.
Ranboo had also given him a pair of tidy black trousers, although they were a little too big for Tommy, he didn’t mind. It was better than nothing but rags. He missed the feeling of clothes, it felt like some of his barriers had been rebuilt. Ever so slightly.
Across the table was Ranboo, trying to shove some bread in Tommy’s direction. It was neatly sliced but it was only simple plain bread, no butter nor jam. The hybrid said to eat small and soft, due to his starvation.
But he couldn’t help but start craving himself a feast of glorious potatoes, golden apples to quell any aches, the cleanest of water. But the thought also made him sick to his stomach, the thought of food was enough to make him dizzy.
He hated it.
“You’re safe”.
Safety means nothing, not anymore. Safety was Wilbur, Techno, home. All gone, stripped away, abandoned or dead. It wasn’t worth anything to mourn anymore, everything he once had was already gone. Even the last person he’d consider close had tossed him aside in what he’d call hell.
He couldn’t bring himself to respond, only shaking his head.
…
“You’re already in a bad condition. Eat.”, a familiar voice spoke. But it wasn’t the person in front of him, instead it was from straight behind him. The enderian’s ears twitched anxiously before his pupils dilated his relief and what seemed to be happiness.
Though, he wasn’t happy. Far from it. He never wanted to see the face again, at least not now. Before he knew it, he had already thrown a punch to the already scorned face. The boy fell back a step yet remained upwards.
He didn’t have enough strength to put him in the ground, funnily enough.
A blind eye stared back at him, he couldn’t discern any emotion. Since his face had been burnt and scarred from fireworks. It left him blinded in one eye, deaf in an ear. Though, from the body posture, he wasn’t mad in the slightest.
For what reason?
“Ow”, was all he mumbled before turning back to Tommy. His face in concern, no anger. Perhaps even pity.
It only fueled him with more anger.
He pushed the shorter one to the ground, straddling him as he put whatever remained of his strength and fury into beating the one under him, screaming as though he were in a war zone.
Stop.
Stop.
Stop.
Stop.
I'm so sorry.
Just please.
Stop.
None of his punches made any impact, the boy had managed to block them with ease. The first was now cradled gently within his palm.
Stop it.
He gently shoved Tommy off, enough so that he could sit up.
Why?
Pity?
He embraced the boy over the shoulders, attempting to cradle him as though he were a child.
He’s taking advantage…
Why aren’t I mad?
Didn’t I hate him?
His shoulders shook with sobs. Resting against his neck.
“Let it out. Forget about anything else. Let’s just pretend for 5 minutes that things are like they should be.”.
A copy of mellohi started playing quietly and softly.
When had he shrunk? He didn’t know. All he could process was that he was in safety of his friends' scorned hands, promising to keep him safe. Nuzzling and muttering reassurances as he let out the cries of his own.
A small smile poked from Ranboo’s fanged lips.
#mcyt g/t#mcytg/t#dsmp g/t#shushi's writings#tiny!tommy#tw vore mention#maybe idk#giant!ranboo#giant!tubbo
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🦅Hawks HC’s🦅
This is SO unnecessarily long. Some NSFW. Minors do not interact.
- - - - -
General
Has zero social life or hobbies outside of work. He knows it’s unhealthy, but like, who has the time?? Oh? Lots of people do?? Haha what are healthy work/home boundaries? He desperately wants to retire and always talks about a world without heroes, but the truth is he would have no idea what to do with himself if he got his way. Take him to a park at midnight and watch him turn into a giant repressed child on a swing. He’ll do a standing-360 and it will be terrifying.
Listens to music way too loud in his headphones to drown out wind noise. Probably half deaf at this point. His musical taste is wild; listening history all over the fucking place. Algorithms have no idea what to do with him.
That visor? It’s prescription. Wow is he far-sighted. He wears glasses. He’s not blind without them (rather the opposite) but they help him see things directly in front of him without massive eye strain. Yeah, he looks really hot in glasses.
Prefers communicating via text. Sometimes it’s a lot of dumb memes, but mostly it’s sincere. He can say what he means when he doesn’t have to put on a public front.
Smokes like a chimney. Self medicates with stimulants. Coffee, tobacco, sugar. Fidgety, likes things in his mouth or hands. Gnashes on toothpicks and popsicle sticks. He really should go back to therapy, huh? His teeth are sparkling white for the cameras but his breath could use some work. Chews gum a lot to compensate, and always does it really loudly with a big shit-eating grin.
Impatient as fuuuuuck. Rude about it. If you take too long doing anything, you’re going to hear a foot tapping. He’ll smile and laugh it off, never ever directly criticize you about it. But lord, the dramatic sighs. He WILL nudge you out of the way and take over in order to finish a task faster, and it’s truly fucking annoying.
LOVES food. Has the metabolism of an actual bird. Will seize upon any excuse to eat. No need to be self-conscious about eating in front of him; he wants you to enjoy it. Steals bites from you and talks with his mouth full. Prefers street food and take-out, usually eats while walking or flying. Sit-down restaurants are an invitation for gawkers.
He’s one of those celebrities that looks way taller on TV. In real life, he’s small and compact. So you’re surprised the first time you see him in person. He has a big head. Literally.
If you’re taller or bigger than him, he does Not Care. He treats everyone like they’re four feet tall, even Endeavor. Everything you do is cute. If you’re actually short, he’s going to carry you around all the time, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Collects big chunky overpriced watches. All the better to tell you you’re late.
Half his clothes are brand fucking new. Sometimes he forgets to take off the tags. (Don’t look at the prices, do NOT) He never seems to wear the same thing twice. He also never seems to go shopping. Brands just give him stuff, and he shrugs and goes “yeah okay.”
The other half of his clothes are old, faded, and patched up. Every item he acquires for himself has deep sentimental value. If you tell him to throw away that nasty ten-year-old pair of frayed cargo pants, be prepared to find out how wrong and evil you are for even suggesting it.
He doesn’t snore; he coos. Loudly. Like a fucking pigeon trapped in a megaphone.
- - - - -
Dating
Gift-giving is his love language. Bringing your favorite snacks. Leaving novelty magnets on your fridge. He found a copy of that book/game/movie you mentioned like a month ago, don’t you remember? If he has to go out of town on a job, he’ll bring back the ugliest possible souvenir, just to annoy you.
He likes gifting jewelry especially. Covering you in shiny baubles, little golden things. Not expensive, but unusual. Antiques or handmade, even bizarre vending machine crap. Gets really handsy if you wear or show off his gifts.
Since you’re the first person who has given him The Feels, if you are resistant to his advances (like, say, because he’s way too famous and you’re terrified he’s gonna break your heart) he’s going to go fucking nuts trying to woo you. Doesn’t have a single patient bone in his body but will wait as long as it takes for you to come around. He’ll act like he’s cool with just being friends at first, just hanging out, haha. Oh you’re busy today? That’s cool. Inside he’s shrieking like a tea kettle. Go ahead, make him wait.
Don’t bother giving him a key to your place. He’s coming in through the bedroom window or patio door. Just put out a damn welcome mat on your balcony... or a bird feeder.
A bit of a voyeur. He likes to watch you do your normal routine without interruption. He can see from miles away so if you’ve got your lights on at night, he’ll creep for a while before he comes in. It comforts him immensely, seeing a little slice of the world that isn’t constantly in need of saving.
Is super talkative and funny but a terrible communicator. Makes more jokes the worse he feels. Will almost never tell you what he needs. Most of the time, he doesn’t even know. You will learn to read between the lines and gradually notice his tiny unconscious cries for help. Back rubs make him emotional.
He shows up at your place at the weirdest times. All hours. You’re never ready. At first it was infuriating, because you wanted to look your best and have time to prepare, but you figure out pretty quickly that seeing you in your natural state is his favorite thing. He never gets to be around normal people, doing normal things. A boring, lazy afternoon is his idea of paradise.
He’ll pick through your things and ask a world of invasive questions. A medicine cabinet raider. He wants to know every fucking tiny thing about you, live vicariously through you.
He actually lives in a top floor penthouse. Because I mean, where else? Never spends any time there; mostly he seems to roost on the balcony. He has used the front door maybe once. He much prefers your place, and will only take you back to his after months of dating. It’ll take like, an entire emergency. You’ll end up in his bed by mistake.
Because when you finally come over, he’s embarrassed. Its sparse. White. Things in boxes. A new furniture smell. Like he’s not done moving in, though he’s lived there for years. He wants you to move in So Bad but doesn’t want to be pushy. If you don’t start leaving your stuff there, he’ll steal things from your apartment. Where the hell is your favorite t-shirt? Or that pillowcase you like? Dammit Keigo.
He’s a decent cook, a habit he made himself pick up because he thought it might make him feel more normal. It... didn’t. He never actually cooks until you give him an excuse. He’ll bring you breakfast in bed and watch you eat every bite with big hungry eyes.
He’s got a separate wardrobe for his hero costume and all his feathers. Yeah. His feathers. Because he can detach and control his feathers at will, when he’s alone at home he kind of just... shucks off his wings. The first time you see him do it, your eyes fall out of your head. He walks around in a tee shirt and boxers with these ugly little stumps covered in brownish, blood-red down. It actually looks kind of gnarly, like he got mauled by a bear.
He’s never dated until you. No one has ever been in his apartment until you. No one has called him Keigo until you. He has some bigass intimacy issues. Because. Y’know. The trauma. But god, he wants you in his life so bad, even if he has no idea how to make time for your relationship.
He’ll want to keep you to himself for a while. Once you go public he’s going to have an arm around your shoulders at all times. Publicly Displays his Affection way more than is socially acceptable in Japan, and gives precisely -100,000 fucks.
His fans either love you or hate you. There is no in between. He will immediately take your phone and threaten to drop it from a great height if he catches you reading shitty gossip about the two of you. Does NOT care about his public image anymore, doesn’t want YOU to care about it either. He’s gonna retire soon anyway, remember? That’s a lie.
Being a charming motherfucker is the core of his public persona, so you will get jealous. A lot. He will flirt shamelessly without realizing it. He will get photographed in compromising positions with gorgeous people.
Once you accept that he’s basically an actor 80% of the time and that Hawks and Keigo are separate identities, you’ll both feel better. When he comes home (to YOU) and falls over exhausted and stops being Hawks(tm), when he scratches his ass or burps in front of you, when he yells to you from the bathroom, when he groans childishly about his shitty day while laying face-down in your lap, you’ll know you have nothing to worry about. Keigo is all yours.
Boundaries? Never heard of ‘em. He’s either a million lightyears away or he’s glued to your hip. The whiplash is astounding.
Absolutely says “I love you” wayyyyyy to soon. It thrills you but scares you off at the same time, because there’s no way Hawks - The Hawks - can actually mean it, right? (He does)
Rings? Nah. When things get serious, he will make a necklace out of a feather for you, and if you ever take it off, you better be asleep or in the shower. Even then you’re on thin fuckin ice. If you’re not wearing it he knows. He’s never mean about making you put it back on, it just makes him nervous if he can’t feel your heartbeat.
- - - - -
SPICY CHICKEN NUGGETS
High sex drive. Horny like 25/7. Probably a symptom of having way too much pent up stress.
Often takes care of it himself when he doesn’t have the emotional resources for anyone else, even his S.O. Figures you don’t want him coming on to you as often as he would like to, but he’s too stupid to talk to you about it first. Morning masturbator.
Yes he’s fucked around a lot but he’s not exactly a playboy either. People have always thrown themselves at him, and before he met you he let them do it. Especially when out of town and staying in a hotel. Whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, etc.
He’d never be unfaithful to you though; his loyalty and dedication are frankly a little unsettling. Sometimes you feel like the only thing in his life other than hero work. Teach this man to knit. Make him join a book club. Christ. Anything.
Does in fact have seasonal mating patterns and it’s super embarrassing.
An underwear-sniffing perv. He’ll definitely hump your pillow.
Gets a sick thrill out of breaking in and startling you. Coming up behind you in the dark, sneaking into your bed. It’s probably his worst habit, and even he hates that he does it. If you get better at detecting him he’ll be so proud. Land a slap on him and he’ll be a horny mess.
Dog-whistles at you. Often from rooftops, and you have no idea where he is but you know he’s leering.
He will call you a lot of really stupid pet names. He likes the way you blush when he finds a newer, stupider one. Calls you angel when he’s really far gone.
Likes to scratch you with his stubble until your skin turns raw and sensitive. If it annoys you or hurts a little? Even better. Making you squirm is his new favorite thing. Especially when going down on you. Your inner thighs are always exfoliated.
His cock is average in every respect. This is not a bad thing. He knows how to please you with every totally normal inch of that cock. He has some kind of homing beacon installed on your sensitive spots.
Goes absolutely insane for blowjobs. Any time, any place.
Likes to bend you around in all kinds of positions with an assist from his feathers to hold up an ankle here, an arm there. Get used to floating mid-coitus. It just seems to happen.
Spanky.
His number one priority is making you feel adored and at home in his bed. Ohhhhh he likes to make you smile. But if you encourage him to get pushy and dominant with you, you will have a good, good time.
He’s switchy, and will lose his shit if you initiate or take control. Again, he’s always horny for you, because he can finally let go. Breathe in his direction and he’s hard.
Doesn’t moan much, but Babe, he’s a dirty talker. He’s not smooth or deliberate about it, it’s more like he can’t fucking believe you let him do whatever he wants to you. You like that huh? Like he’s in stages of shock. He’s singing your praises to high Heaven and muttering oh shit oh shit oh shittttttt and laugh-crying as he cums. He never talks about his feelings; he fucks about them.
After. Care. King. He loves pampering and clucking over you anyway, this is simply another excuse to do it. He knows exactly how much water you drink in a day. Can’t take care of himself for shit, but you? You’ll never have a need he won’t try to fill. What’s all that hero work for if not this? Yeah, soak it up. You deserve it.
#hawks#takami keigo#hawks headcanons#hawks x reader#hawks x y/n#hawks x you#gender neutral#smut#bnha#mha#mha headcanons#bnha headcanons#mha fanfiction#bnha x reader#mha x reader#fred writes#no idea why I’m writing these#guess I’m just in a Mood
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Nat😫😫😫 I'm just reading your naoya posts and I cant😫😫😫 why do I love this arrogant man😫 is it possible to write something of a connected fic to your arrangement story about how he feels jealous over a similarly docile reader (doesnt have to be connected if you dont want tho!!). like he hears about how the reader has been getting marriage proposals from other men since naoya hasnt given an affirmative to your family,,,, and now the reader is forced to consider other candidates (although she still cant atop thinking about our favourite princely asshole) and naoya cant handle this thought lol he deserves to know what angst and the pain of yearning tastes like😌 I hope this wasn't too confusing aaaa😭😭 I love your writing, and im glad youre in this jjk brain rot too🤧
patience - naoya x fem!reader (1.5k)
arrangement // patience // my jjk masterlist
warnings: naoya remains an asshole. submissive reader, arranged marriages, mentions of murder, talk of adultery. pining/angst. not sfw, minors dni!
naoya hates that he can’t stop thinking about you.
Naoya hates that he can’t stop thinking about you.
Oh, he’d meant it when he’d spat ‘pathetic’ and ‘useless’ and ‘worthless’ at you – your bloodline was unimpressive, your lack of cursed technique tragic, your clan elders absolutely idiotic for sending a nobody like you to tempt him. But . . . something about the look in your eyes, the meek little bow of your head, the way you’d listened to every one of his orders with a soft little gasp and a desire to follow them to the latter . . .
He hasn’t told your family that he’s not interested in you, but word gets around the jujutsu community when someone is looking for a spouse. After all, they’re determined to retain blood purity, to keep techniques in the bloodline – your family soon hear that Naoya is still considering all of his options. That other pretty young daughters from other bloodlines have been to see him.
(Naoya rejects them all, for frivolous reasons that he doesn’t want to admit are frivolous. He hadn’t liked the look in that one’s eyes. He didn’t want his children to inherit the colour of that one’s hair. That one had walked two steps behind him, not three--).
You haunt his thoughts. You and the bow of your head, the bite of your lip, the way you’d looked with tears brimming in your eyes. The suggestive curve of you beneath your kimono.
Ugh.
He hears, too, that your family have been exploring their other options. They’d seemed thrilled, at first, that Naoya hadn’t utterly swept you off the table – but six months have passed, and they want their daughter married and out of the house and fulfilling her duties.
He hears about your marriage proposals through that same grapevine. He hears that other men say you are pretty and quiet and obedient, that you will make a fine wife, that you will listen to commands and give soft smiles and raise children like you ought to--
And once, he smashes a glass from gripping it too hard as some nobody in the Kamo clan mentions that he’s going to ask your family for your hand in marriage.
You say no. He hears, too, that your elders are growing frustrated with your dismissals of proposals. They have left behind the thought of marrying you into the Zenin clan, but clearly you’re still clinging to the idea that Naoya might want you despite what he’d said.
He doesn’t, he tells himself, when he wraps his fist around his cock and pumps it and thinks about your look of surprise as his come splatters across your face.
He doesn’t, he tells himself, when he compares a young lady sent to entice him with you. When she looks him in the eye and he thinks that you would never do that, that you would keep your head bowed, that you’d be deferential as he needs you to be.
He doesn’t, he tells himself, as a servant cleans up the shards of glass that he shatters and he asks the Kamo clan member if perhaps he would like to spar, and he hits him just a little bit too hard so he ends up wheezing and doubled over on the training mats as Naoya stalks out of the room.
It’s not his style to pine. He has the pick of every eligible young lady in jujutsu society; he should not be hung up on such a worthless, pathetic little thing.
He hears of another proposal. This one, apparently, hasn’t been rejected straight-out – this one, you seem to be considering. Other members of the Zenin clan don’t understand why his jaw sets at the news.
“You didn’t want her, did you?” He asks. “You didn’t seem keen after the meeting.”
One of his other distant cousins, an upstart too big for his boots, grins.
“That was before she was hot property, though,” he leers at Naoya. “Our golden boy doesn’t like the idea of people coveting his trash--”
Naoya has struck him before he can think and stalked out of that room, too. Something about you has truly opened the can of worms that is Naoya’s violence, and he refuses to admit to himself that it’s because he wants you.
It’s not because you’re hot property – though, certainly, the way other men talk and laugh about you and the knowledge that you’re wanted serves to set a fire within him. It’s because he can’t stop thinking about you.
He tries courtesans. He chooses pretty, well-mannered ones who look a little like you – but their eyes when they look at him are glassy. They’re not the same as yours, brimming with life and want and confusion at the position you’ve found yourself in and the way your body responds to Naoya.
He doesn’t admit to his mistakes. He doesn’t think ‘I should have accepted the proposal, I should have joined the clans’ – instead, he thinks ‘I should have fucked them then and there. I should have made them scream my name until their reputation was ruined and everybody knew they came apart on my cock. It’s their fault that I can’t get them out of my brain.’
He walks with fists and teeth clenched and snaps at every servant who dare looks his way. Naoya has always been unpleasant, but he’s downright impossible with his spine in knots and his eyes narrowed.
He’s going to have to do it. He’s going to have to contact your family, ask for another audience, if only to get your fucking face out of his mind--
He’s not expecting to come across you before he’s even made the call, standing in one of the gardens of the Zenin estate. You’re wearing the same kimono you had first visited him in, and he hates that the sight of it makes a throb low in his belly as he remembers seeing it crumpled on his bedroom floor. He swallows as he stalks towards you and you turn, your pretty eyes widening – he sees the flash of memory, the flash of desire. He wonders if anybody would dare speak to him if he took you right here, in the garden--
An older man opens a door behind you.
Naoya recognises him only vaguely. The Zenin estate is swarming with various, less important Zenins; this one’s a great-uncle, perhaps? Or a cousin thrice removed? He’s someone unimportant in the grand scheme of things, save for the way that he walks up to you and wraps an arm around your waist.
“Ah,” the man with his hands on Naoya’s property says. “I see you’ve met my betrothed.”
His heart stops cold. He’s nobody. Unimportant. Nothing.
He’d called you the same thing; an ‘act of charity’. So why does the sight of an arm around you attached to a man too old and not powerful enough to be a threat make Naoya feel like he’s chewing rocks? Naoya manages to spit out a;
“Congratulations.”
“Yes,” the old man (great cousin? Naoya doesn’t make a habit to remember people he can’t use later on) says, pulling you closer, groping at your hip through the kimono as you keep a sedate, smile on your face without looking directly into Naoya’s eyes. “You’ll be seeing her around a lot. I hope she didn’t bother you.” A squeeze to your ass, this time, shameless. “Say hello to the future leader of the clan, sweetheart.”
(At least this man’s on Naoya’s side, he tries to console himself, but it doesn’t work.)
“H-hello, sir,” you say, and your voice is as tremulous as he remembers it. His cock stirs. He hates this.
“Sorry to bother you,” he inclines his head politely and tugs on your arm, pulling you away, leaving Naoya kissing his teeth and trying to not simply slit the man’s throat with the knife in his hakama and take you for his own.
What had the scum said? ‘You’ll be seeing her around a lot’. He supposes, then, that you’ll be sequestered in one of the other chambers in the Zenin estate--
A slow smile spreads across his face.
You wouldn’t say ‘no’ to your clan leader, would you? And . . . your future husband is old. Any Zenin is a Zenin, is it not? Even if a son is born with Naoya’s features, Naoya’s technique . . . nobody would say anything to him about it. And you’re in reach. Close to him.
He only needs to get you alone before the wedding to make sure he gets to take your maidenhead. He hates the thought of another man’s filthy hands on you, but accidents happen all of the time--
And then you’ll be a widow. You won’t be expected to marry for a while. And if you’ve already borne fruit and proved yourself – perhaps Naoya will even play the chivalrous leader and lower himself to take you for his own.
Yes. Just a little patience.
This is an arrangement he can get behind.
#naoya x reader#naoya zenin x reader#naoya smut#naoya zenin smut#not sfw#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#writing#afab reader#fem pronouns#arranged marriage for ts#misogyny for ts#Anonymous
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Youre My Path (SMUT)
Yandere Bucky being crazy, possessive, and DARK!
TW-Mentions on non-con, drugging, stalking, and overall dark behavior. A little bit of knife play as well.
Smut SMUT SMUT
Let me know what y’all think
Today was just another boring ordinary day. You had to go to the store and stock up on some groceries that you had been planning on getting but you lacked the will power to do so. You opened your phone and looked at the time. Ugh, I need to go before they close you thought to yourself as you managed to peel yourself off of your comfy sofa. You got ready and headed towards the nearest super market.
Lately youve been having some weird feelings, as if someone is constantly watching you. You always shake it off though, because nothing ever happens to you. You always get home safe and sound. Today was a little more intense though, as if you could almost hear someone breathing behind you when you were walking to the store. Relieved to have made it inside, you grabbed your cart and started your trip through the empty isles of the store. You loved and hated to come at night, it made you feel at peace knowing there there wouldn’t be annoying ass kids and angry moms yelling at them to behave. No people blocking the isles with their carts and most importantly, no need to run into someone you knew. The only reason you hated it, was because you didn’t want to get kidnapped and left for dead.
As you made your way to the bread isle, you had that feeling again. You felt like someone was behind you, you stopped dead in your tracks to see if anyone would walk past you. You pretended to look at the merchandise and you slowly turned around to see if there was anyone there. You looked both ways, and sure enough there was nothing. You rolled your eyes and kept it moving. As your trip started coming to an end you decided to stop by the makeup isle, needing a couple of items that you would use for your upcoming date.
Usually you didn’t try this hard but you figured you would give it a shot. All the past times you went on dates they would disappear after your first date. You weren’t sure if it was because you didn’t try hard enough or if they simply weren’t feeling your vibe. As your mind trailed off you accidentally ran into another person with your cart, completely snapping you out of your mind. A broad man, fell to his knee. “Oh my god!!! I’m so sorry. Are you ok? God I’m so clumsy please forgive me” you said frantically as you started to help him up. He lifted his head up to meet your gaze, big blue eyes % bore%% into your own. Your eyes started to trail from his eyes, to his lips, and up again to his perfectly sculpted face. You were mesmerized, you had never seen such a handsome man. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it, y/n” he said quickly getting up and walking off with a visible smirk on his face. You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, knowing damn well he did not just say your name. You werent exactly sure if your mind was playing tricks on you or if he really said what you think he had said. You got up quickly, still in shock but hoping that it was really your mind playing tricks on you. Hesitantly you continued to shop, even though there was a little voice in your head telling you to get the hell out of that store.
Bucky POV
FUCK she’s so beautiful, he thought to himself. The way you stared at him, it was clear you wanted him the way he wanted you. This was the moment that he had been waiting for ever since he laid eyes on you. He had never been this close to you, it was like a dream come true. You smelled like candy, your beautiful e/c eyes meeting his. Just how he had imagined but better. The way you apologized made him hard. Just think of how submissive my y/n will be to me mmmm I’m going to devour her in every way possible he thought to himself, smirking.
Bucky ran into you at a coffee shop near your house. It was love at first sight for him. He watched you interact with your friends, smile, laugh, and it was like a match made in heaven for him. He knew he needed you to smile for him, laugh for him, and live for him. He followed you home that night. Making sure you wanted to be safe, of course. But his monthly visits turned to weekly and then turned to daily. He eventually managed to get into your home. You left a space key under your mat, and he felt so happy yet disappointed that you would endanger yourself like that. “When we live together, I’ll make sure you don’t make silly mistakes like this” he said to himself as he got into your home.
He went through your house just browsing, seeing if anything interesting caught his eye. He then made it into your room and continued to look through your things. He found your panties next to your bed and quickly grabbed them and put him in his picked for him to enjoy later. He also took some pictures of you, to also enjoy later.
You were his new routine and he enjoyed every second of it. As time went on he would keep tabs on you, absolutely hating it when you went on dates. He was consumed with jealousy and couldn’t believe anyone would dare lay a finger on you. He knew that this would not fly and he had to make sure to get rid of any roadblocks that got in his way. Bucky murdered them and everytime he did he felt relieved, almost happy knowing that he was that much closer to you.
After his encounter with you, Bucky walked off into the parking lot, one car over from yours, slipping into the drivers seat. His mind started to go wild. He needed you so badly. He wished he could have taken you right then and there. How he wished he could be inside you, your soft moans begging him to make you feel good. His cock soon started to throb at the thought of you. He leaned back in his seat taking a pair of your panties out from his pocket. He brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply, moaning as he exhaled. “Fuck Y/n...you make me so horny...I’m going to fuck the shit out of you when you’re here baby just you wait”.
Wasnt long before he pulled out his dick, stroking it hard. His hips bucking into his hand wishing it was your pussy. He started to think about how beautiful your pretty mouth would be around his dick, how good your tongue would feel swiveling around his tip. Just as he was about to cum, he stopped. He growled and threw his head back lowly moaning your name. “Fuck...I cant take this anymore. I need her” He quickly tucked himself back in and relaxed.
All you could think about was how that guy knew your name. It kept replaying in your head and it didn’t make sense. You headed to your car and started to load everything in. “Hello my Y/n” you heard someone say in a low deep voice. You quickly turned around, your heart starting to beat a little faster. “Umm. Do I know you?” You asked. Bucky sighed and started to walk towards you. “Not yet doll but you will” a smirk on his face once again. You backed up as he took steps forward. “Don’t come any closer, or I’m calling the police”.
Bucky pressed himself against your body, his hands snaking their way to your hips. His face now pressed against your neck. “No you wont Princess, I know you like this. I can tell by the way that you’re breathing that you want me to keep going” his low voice going straight to your core. “N-no please...stop I ..” you tried pushing him off but you started to feel so weak. You had not noticed that Bucky had used something to drug you. All you felt was your body going limp and you falling into his arms.
Bucky smiled as you fell into him, placing a soft kiss on your temple. He noticed that someone was coming over so he quickly pressed your body to your car, and grabbed your face, kissing you. The person walking, walked a little faster as they were feeling a little awkward. Perfect he thought to himself. He placed you into the back to his car, resting your head to a pillow he had just bought and covering you with his sweater. He quickly drove off, leaving all your things by your car.
Your eyes opened, your head pounding. Wherever you were it was dark but comfortable. You groaned as you started to fully wake up, slowly sitting up. Your left hand felt heavy, you tried pulling it and you heard a chain. You yanked your hand hard again, making a loud sound. Bucky heard the noise coming from your guy’s room and he smiled and quickly got up making his way to you.
“Baby you’re awake now” Bucky excitedly said
“What’s going on..why are you doing this to me, where am I?”
“You’re home doll, with me”
“But I don’t know you” you cried softly
“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. I’ve been looking after you for a while now and it’s been a pleasure but I'm so glad that I finally have you all to myself, just how it was always meant to be”
He started to get on the bed climbing towards you. You backed up as he came towards you, your back was now against the wall, pinning yourself between the cold wall and his broad body. His hand going to the back of your neck, bringing you close to him, your lips almost touching his.
“I’ve waited a life time for this, to have you here with me. You make me crazy and I would sacrifice the world for you. Now that you’re all mine, I won’t ever loose you” he closed the gap between you two, his lips desperately locking into yours. Kissing you passionately, he was hungry and desperate. You turned your head to the side, breaking the kiss.
“This isn’t the way Bucky, this isn’t right. You need to let me go” you begged. Bucky smiled and looked down moving back away from you. It made you feel relieved that he was not too mad due to your actions. He slowly got up from the bed and went over to his dresser, rummaging through some things.
“Bucky...maybe we are in different paths right now, maybe in the future we will be together but now right now, not like this...please Bucky listen to me”, hoping that he would have a little sympathy, you used his name to make it more personal.
“You know , y/n...just because you say we are on different paths doesn’t mean it’s true” he grabbed something and started to walk towards you again. This time his metal arm reached out to pull you by your leg to the edge of the bed, giving you whiplash. He quickly climbed on top of you, pinning your arms above your head with his metal arm and pulling out a syringe with his other hand.
You quickly started to wiggle around trying to get him off you. Shaking your head, “no no please stop no”. Buckys eyes had a hint of madness to them, dark and disturbing. “Don’t worry these don’t hurt, it will make you feel better I promise”. He quickly injected it to you and you soon started to feel get hot, with a tingling sensation “This will loosen you up a bit, it’ll make you relax so that we can enjoy eachother baby”
His lips made their way onto your neck, kissing and licking you all over. Your heart started to race, your eyes closing, soft moans escaping your lips, “n-no..” Bucky grunted as his erection started to press against your clothed pussy. His hips bucking forward, dry humping you. He lowered down to your ear, whispering, “ cant you see what you do to me. You’re so sexy and sensual you’re almost making me cum in my pants with your adorable moans, my love. As much as love to hear you right now, I want you to moan and scream my name y/n...begging me to fuck you harder”
All his words, combined with his dry humping made you soaking wet. As much as you hated this you couldn’t help but moan louder. His cock pressing against you was not enough and you needed more. You tried your hardest to resist, “G-get a..way f-from me..” you managed to choke out, trying to not moan anymore and trying to push him off with your body. Suddenly Bucky got angry. Hating how you were fighting him. He tore off your thin leggings in a fast single motion, revealing your soaked panties. He took out his knife and pressed it against you, earning a frantic gasp but you stopped moving. “Stop fighting me doll, for your own good because I swear I will fucking destroy you. I’ve waited too long for this, don’t push me because you won’t like the way I punish you.But......if you behave I’ll make sure to take care of you..real good care darling” he said as his knife traced your body. He grabbed your shirt roughly and ripped it off, slicing your bra open as well.
His mouth watered at the sight of your delicious breasts, making his cock twitch with excitement. His knife trailed down to your panties, making you whimper. “You’re so delicious kitten, I’m going to fuck you so hard. I cant wait till my cock is right in here” he motioned and tapped your clit with his knife. He roughly grabbed them and ripped them open instantly. He threw his knife to the side and quickly started to rub your clit making your back arch with your eyes closed. Your moans now filling up the room. Bucky smiled and took one of your nipples into his mouth, making you quiver and move your hips down into his hand. “Mmm, I knew you wanted this..wanted me...only me” he growled against your chest. “F-fuck Bucky...keep going please”. You hated yourself for saying that but you couldn’t help it, you were in pure ecstasy.
Just as you were about to reach your orgasm, he removed himself from you. Making you whine and buck your hips up, wanting and needing his touch once again. “Don’t worry kitten, I’m not done with you yet”. He quickly undressed and positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing his tip on your clit, making you mewl. “Tell me what you want doll...tell me what you want from me” he coaxed. You didn’t answer, as you were too embarrassed to say anything. His metal hand went to your neck, squeezing it hard. “Tell me y/n..tell me what you want NOW” he yelled, releasing his grip from your throat.
“Fuck me Bucky...please” you finally said. “I don’t think I heard you doll, say it loud and clear”. “FUCK ME BUCKY PLEASE I NEED YOU...PLEASE”. You finally broke. You needed him now, there was nothing in the world you wanted more than to have his cock inside of you, his lips on your skin and his hands all over you. You were finally filled with his big cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy. His hands on your neck, choking you but not too hard like before. His hips snapping in and out of you making your body shake.
“Such an obedient slut, MY obedient slut. I’m going to break you and bend you to my will. Making you all mine. I’ll make you crave my touch, my attention, my voice. You’re going to live only for me, doll. Only for me” he growled as he pounded into you, rubbing your clit making you loose it. He then started to feel you reach your end, making him moan, “cum on my dick baby...cum for me. Let go” he cooed as he angled himself to reach into you deeper. That’s when you felt your orgasm hit you, your body started to shake, waves of pleasure surging through your body. “Mmm Buckyyyy” you moaned. Making him loose it as well, he coated your insides in his thick warm cum. Pumping himself in and out slowly. Gasping for air.
Fuck he was such a God, he made you want more of him. It was the first night and you were already going crazy for his touch. You wanted him to keep going keep doing you however he wanted, but most importantly to keep pleasuring you. Bucky finally pulled out and laid next to you, looking at your beautiful face. He brought his lips to yours and gave you a soft kiss. “The drug hasn’t worn off baby, don’t think this is over. We’re going until we cant no more, doll.” He said against your lips, flipping you over for round two.
#bucky reader x smut#yandere marvel#yandere bucky barnes#dark! bucky x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky dark!#dark!marvel#dark!bucky barnes#winter solider imagine#james buchanan bucky barnes#sebastian smut#sebastian stan#Sebastian Stan#Bucky#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky barns x you#bucky x you#marvel smut#dark fic#yandere love
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Fate don't know you like I do
Hello, guys, have this super cheesy and self indulgent piece I wrote for Bakudeku day! I'm so happy to be part of this fandom and all the wonderful content creators out there, so here's my little contribution, enjoy! I wrote it super fast so sorry for any mistake or typo!
Also, the title is a song I love, please check it out, it inspired the whole thing!
Izuku wakes up to the sight of his bedroom ceiling, body aching and mind restless. He’s no longer wearing his hero suit, except for the undershirt and his pants, everything else is gone. Slowly, the yells of the crowd infiltrate his thoughts and he wishes to run away, to go to where he can’t hurt anyone he cares about.
He has to leave. He is being selfish. Izuku props himself up on his elbows.
“That’s the face of a rabbit ready to bolt,” the gruff voice startles him, and he turns to see Kacchan sitting on his desk, frowning. It adds up that they wouldn't leave him without someone standing guard.
Kacchan has changed out of his hero suit, and a dark grey long sleeved t-shirt hides the bandages on his shoulder and stomach, but Izuku is keenly aware of the wounds he was sporting as he flew around trying to keep him from leaving. By the end, his childhood friend was bleeding through them. That was Izuku’s fault; both Kacchan reopening his injuries and the fact that he has them in the first place.
“Kacchan, I'm so-“
“Save it, nerd,” he abandons the desk chair and shuffles closer.
Izuku takes him in; after weeks of agonizing over the state in which he left Kacchan, seeing him do a perfect arch in the air and stop a villain with a precise AP Shot, filled him with a relief so strong, it paralyzed him, and he was only able to stare in awe.
During the following fight, if Izuku can call it that when it was against his friends, Kacchan was everywhere; coordinating different maneuvers, and he even had a new move. Izuku told his friends they couldn’t keep up, and he remembers vaguely that he apologized, because in reality they’re miles ahead of him.
Still, nobody is like Kacchan: certain and absolute, pure will held together by his convictions. He never backs down, and he never gives up, only marches forward. Izuku never stood a chance against him, in more than one way.
Kacchan kneels by the bed, putting an elbow on the bed, close to his hips, and lazily resting his head on his hand.
“Kacchan, I can’t stay here,” he mumbles, trying to convey all his inner turmoil. He wants to stay, he is so tired and scared, but he will not risk anyone for his sake.
Kacchan frowns in response.
“You can, and you will, dumbass,” he states, surprising him by clutching his forearm. “I’m not chasing your sorry ass around anymore.”
“Then let me go,” Izuku turns his arm, grabbing him as well.
“You’re not going anywhere, Izuku.”
The name travels through his body, lighting him up on the inside, coursing through him with the violence of the first time he used One For All, equally exhilarating and terrifying.
It all comes back to him; the rain, his words, his bow, Izuku collapsing and Kacchan appearing in time to support him.
Izuku.
“You apologized,” he whispers, tears coming to his eyes. “You said all those things in front of the whole class.”
“I had to, asshole, you left before I could tell you in private,” he doesn’t look embarrassed or regretful. Kacchan doesn’t shy away from his decisions once he makes up his mind. “Only a shitty letter for explanation and that was it.” He shakes his head. “You didn’t even let me go with you, idiot.”
“You’re still dealing with the outcome of the last time I let you come with me.” The tears are running freely down his cheeks. “I had to watch how he almost took you away from me.” He scrubs his eyes furiously with his free hand, not letting go of Kacchan. “I can’t allow more people to suffer because of me.” He’s on his way to a full on breakdown, struggling to get air in his lungs, and blood roaring in his ears, the noises muffled.
Suddenly, Kacchan is hovering over him, shoving his shoulder firmly.
“Hey, Deku, scoot over,” Izuku only glances at him through his crying, baffled. “Give me some room to lay down, like when we were kids.” He’s already in the process of climbing on the bed, and Izuku manages to slide his body closer to the other end, grabbing the bed cover when the weight of his childhood friend laying down almost makes him roll over him. “Jesus Christ, you stink,” Kacchan complains.
“I know,” Izuku turns on his side, creating more space between them. Hygiene wasn’t that high on his list of priorities, not even eating or sleeping was, and he feels awful. He didn’t have the energy to shower before passing out.
“You smell like dirt and sweat.” Kacchan scrunches up his nose. “Worst of all, you reek of that goddamn martyr complex, and it pisses me off.” he turns too, and traps Izuku in his red gaze. “If you’re choosing to ignore all I said before, at least pay attention to the last part.” He’s not sugarcoating his words, he’s as brash as he always is. “We all want to fight, because we’re heroes and we want to protect everyone, including the fucking chosen one, whether you want us to or not. I’m not asking for your damn permission, and neither is any of the rest. So, you can either play nice and make it easy for us, or be a self-sacrificial idiot, making it all the more annoying. Your call.”
“I don’t know how to stop,” Izuku grimaces, reaching for him with a shaky hand, and awkwardly squeezes his arm. “I’m not ignoring all you said, Kacchan” he chooses to focus on that, gaze in his All Might covers. “I, I forgave you a long time ago, mostly because I wanted to focus on the good parts, so in a way I let go of it for me.” He forgets about his smell, and scoots closer, resting his forehead close to his shoulder. “But thank you, Katsuki.” He hasn’t said that name in ages, but that doesn’t come from any animosity on his part. Kacchan has always been and will always be Kacchan. Izuku feels him move as Kacchan places his chin on top of his matted curls, and they stay like that for a while, with their past laid to rest at last.
Kacchan speaks up first.
“Listen, Deku, everything is getting pretty fucking real,” he pauses for a moment. “Shit is really dangerous for any of us, but for you it is like a thousand times worse. Your ass is a fucking death magnet, and it’s driving me crazy.”
“One For All is a big responsibility, Kacchan, but it’s not yours.” He does his best to keep his voice low and soft, the weight of the legacy crushing him.
“The Hell is not!” Kacchan retorts vehemently. “You made it my deal the moment you told me!” Izuku winced. “What’s up with that? Wasn't that the biggest secret ever? Are you that much of a blabber mouth?”
Izuku clutches his arm harder.
“I wasn’t going to let you think I lied all those years.” He explains, and in a moment of bravery, he continues. “I’ve never been anything but honest with you, Kacchan.”
The anger in his voice disappears as fast as it came.
“I know that, idiot.” His bigger hand finds Izuku’s hip. “One for All is your responsibility, but you are mine.” Izuku is pretty sure he stops breathing. “Since we were fucking four years old, and you were this quirkless little shit that wouldn’t quit chasing after me, no matter how much I pushed you away.” Kacchan scoffs and his breath tickles him. “Well, congrats, dumbass, now you have me and I’m not going anywhere.” His heart flies to his throat and doesn’t let any word come out. Kacchan growls, clearly bothered by his silence. “All for One VS One For All is the fucking shit show for the ages, and of course you, Deku of all people, have to be right in the middle of that crap.” He talks through clenched teeth, and Izuku longs to soothe him, but there’s nothing he can say to fix the situation. “All those who fell against that fucking maniac and now you have to-” Kacchan chokes up, and punches Izuku on the arm. “Whatever, there's nothing I can do for those nobodies that came before you, but you have an advantage over them.”
“What’s that?” He whispers in a small voice, not believing he is having this conversation in bed with his childhood friend.
“You have me,” Kacchan utters, and Izuku feels like he hit him with an explosion, sweeping his feet from under him. “Just let me set something straight, Deku, I’m not going to be your fucking sidekick, you hear me? You watch my back and I watch yours. I don’t trust anyone to keep up with you.”
I don’t trust anyone else to protect you.
“Kacchan-”
“You deal with this crap once and for fucking all, Deku, and we come up on top.” Kacchan declares, Izuku can hear the smirk in his words, and he has to smile back. “I don’t settle for anything but the best, and taking down fucking evil incarnated, I’m in, Deku, I’m all in.” He disentangles them, leaning back with a vulnerable expression, and offers his hand for Izuku to clasp. “What do you say?”
Izuku wants to say no, push him away from danger and lock him somewhere where he is going to be safe, but he knows Kacchan. He is determined, stubborn to a fault, and braver than anyone he has met. If he sets his mind on protecting Izuku, nothing is going to stop Kacchan, not even him.
That’s why Izuku loves him like he does.
In this space, with just the two of them, Izuku can be honest with himself: He is scared, and he has been for a while.
Scared of not living up to All Might’s hopes.
Scared of never mastering this power.
Scared of letting down all the people that gave up their lives to take down All For One.
Scared of being the wrong choice.
At the end of the day, Midoriya Izuku is terrified of not being enough.
In the midst of all the fear and doubt, he sees Kacchan; the person Izuku admires the most, the hero he has chased since he was four years old, and the driving force behind his progress. Kacchan, who knows all of him, and understands him because he sees Izuku for who he is, all the good and bad parts.
His Kacchan, who is now offering to help him and ease his burden, risking his dream, his precious life in the process, to stay close to Izuku and protect him.
A part of him, the one that imitates All Might, is screaming at him that he has to reject the support, to do it on his own. He should hold the weight of the legacy by himself. However, the other part of him, the one that believes Kacchan is what victory looks like, tells him he isn’t All Might and he doesn’t have to be.
He is Midoriya Izuku, and he is allowed to live his life and fight his battles on his terms, just as Kacchan does.
He clasps his hand, and Kacchan smiles, without a trace of mockery or anger, just plain happiness and relief lifting the corners of his mouth. Izuku hasn't seen him smile like that in years, and he needs to say something. He means to say yes to his offer, maybe thank him, but what comes out instead is:
“I love you.”
The punched out gasp that Kacchan lets out shocks Izuku more than his confession does. He can’t believe the words he has hidden for so long in his heart escaped that easily. More shocking is the fact that he doesn’t want to take it back. Even if he is scared of many things, Kacchan isn’t one of them. Yes, Kacchan frustrates him, he worries him, and makes him nervous, but Izuku is not scared of him, never has been. He can die any day now, any of them can, and he is done with silencing his feelings.
Kacchan is not screaming or scowling, neither he is leaping out of the bed and running away from him, so Izuku would say he is mostly stunned, although he doesn’t see why. His feelings for him are a key part of the person he is. Izuku admires him, cares for him.
Izuku loves him.
“Do you mean it?” The question seems to pain him. He hasn’t released his hand.
“Yes, Kacchan.” Izuku is not hiding it, not anymore.
“After everything?”
The words strike his heart and cut deeply. Izuku doesn’t hold any grudge or resentment, and he can’t tolerate the idea of Kacchan thinking he can feel something for him despite their past.
“Because of everything, Kacchan,” Izuku replies, touching their joined hands with his forehead, shying from the red eyes. “The past doesn’t disappear, but that’s not our present, and definitely not our future.” He takes a deep breath to calm his heart. “You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t say it to get an answer.”
“Deku, you can do so much better,” Kacchan says, bluntly.
Izuku doesn't let the obvious rejection deter him from speaking with the truth.
“I don’t see how,” he stares at him, mustering a wonky smile. “You are you, Kacchan; you’re brave, honest, loyal, brilliant, and hardworking.” The words spill without filter, and he drinks the sight of his pale skin blushing. “It’s not about doing better, just who I choose, because when it comes down to it, I chose you a long time ago, Kacchan.”
Kacchan tips his head up, the blond strands cloaking his eyes. Izuku refuses to regret coming clean about his feelings, but as the silence grows between them, he starts to fidget. Little by little, he realizes the true weight of his confession, and the bridges he might be burning.
“This doesn’t have to change anything, Kacchan.”
“It changes everything, Deku,” he replies, not missing a beat.
Izuku curses his luck; it was just like him to confess his love right when Kacchan finally came back to him, something Izuku hadn’t dreamt in his wildest dreams. Dealing with these feelings much longer, when they are so powerful and consuming is not possible. Still, he should have tried, for the sake of their friendship.
A callous finger touches his chin, breaking his spiral of thoughts, and lifts his face. The fiery eyes are wide and defenseless, embers instead of the wild inferno Izuku expected.
The first touch of chapped lips is an awakening, and his first kiss is over before he can finish tasting it.
Kacchan leans back, and for the second time in his life, Izuku’s mind goes blank and his body moves on its own, chasing after him. Their second kiss is messy, they don’t have any experience, but Izuku is lost to it. He tries to commit to memory every brush of their lips and ragged gasps, how soft is his blond hair, and the feeling of fingers sinking in his curls, guiding the kiss.
They break apart, but stay close.
"You didn’t have to do that, Kacchan,” he says against his mouth.
“I never do shit I don’t want to do, Deku.”
Izuku grabs him again, bunching up his t-shirt, so full of love that he fears he is going to float away if he doesn’t get a firm grip.
“Deku, I-“ his voice quivers and Izuku kisses him again, softly and reassuringly.
“It’s okay, Kacchan, you don’t have to say anything yet.” Izuku told him because he wanted him to know, but he has had years to come to terms with it. He’s not expecting Kacchan to figure everything out right now.
“You better stick around after that, you damn nerd,” he touches their foreheads together. “Or take me with you. Two options, I’m magnanimous like that.”
Izuku giggles, the sound so foreign after the past weeks.
“Okay, Kacchan, for that I’ll stick around.”
“Or you’ll take me with you.”
Izuku is still terrified of anything happening to him, but he trusts him the most.
“I’ll stick around or take you with me,” he promises, and Kacchan nods satisfied, wrapping Izuku in his arms and hugging him closer. “I thought you said I stink.”
“You fucking do,” Kacchan says immediately. “When I think about this, the first thing that is going to pop into my mind is that my first kiss smelled like a wet dog.”
Izuku laughs until he cries, and Kacchan joins him.
At one point, his back is to Kacchan, and he’s playing with his hands. Izuku’s so relaxed his eyes are drifting close, sleep taking over.
“Hey, Deku,”
“Yes, Kacchan?” he says drowsily.
“You have magnificent taste.”
Izuku snorts, pulling his arm tighter around him.
“I’m going to sleep now,” he murmurs, and he jumps when Kacchan buries his face on the crook of his neck. “Wake me up if something happens.”
“You can trust me, Deku, nobody is going to pass through me.”
Izuku believes him with his entire heart, but he still chooses to only think and not say what crosses his mind before falling asleep in his arms:
I would die before letting anything happen to you.
#bakudeku#bkdk#katsudeku#bakugou katsuki#midoriya izuku#bnha 322#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#happy bakudeku day guys!
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hwang hyunjin x reader
genre — angst!au
hookup to lover
suggested background music: (click the x)
note: i am so so sorry idk what happened with this one. i was listening to one song, and as my playlist changed, the storyline changed so i did a lot of tweaking to keep with the mood. i did my best to characterize a backstory for the mc x hyunjin lol i like to write about these "moments" that let the reader continue the story on their own, so i hope this is okay??
x
.
.
.
Hot water hit the back of your neck before trickling down the curves of your back.
No music, no distractions, but here in the steam, enveloped in a warmth akin to his, these were the only thoughts, combing through the air like water under lily pads.
Watching the remnants of bubbles sliding down your legs and onto the porcelain, you sighed through the fog.
He seemed to be all you could think of lately.
You two had known each other for years. Childhood dreams came and went, and the years spent apart from the other seemed like nothing. It was like you two always found your way back. Between the heartbreaks, he'd be there. After the storm was over, he'd be there like a flower waiting for sunlight.
After your first breakup, he appeared like the first night of pleasant dreams after a year of nightmares. Hyunjin was just always there until he wasn't. The spaces in between the time you shared were always spent with other people, almost like you two didn't know how to talk when someone else was around. The world you built was only made for him.
How many more days until your little daydream flitted away like the memories of yesterday morning? You couldn't remember lunch, but you remembered dinner and the after, sitting beside him as his eyes slowly closed, his temple hitting your shoulder.
You didn't dare remind him that he fell asleep intertwined with you in his sheets before slipping out in the morning.
The routine of falling in love with a romantic who wasn't yet ready for you became your weeknights, and it crept into the weekend. Sleeping next to your faux lover, using Monday mornings to figure out what exactly you two were - these were your weeks, and it continued throughout the years.
He wasn't your boyfriend - no, you coiled together, you spoke in a language made for your tongues alone, and when the night fell, all you could see were stars and the moonlight resting on his pillow, ever so intimately resting on his cheeks.
It was always a dreaded question.
What are we?
You never wanted to ask. The question frightened you - you couldn't imagine how much it terrified him. The thought of solidifying what you were to him seemed all too intimidating.
Although.
Maybe I do love him.
And again.
Do I love him?
Saying it out loud was the scariest part. Once it was said out loud, you couldn't take it back. It was there. It was truth. It was matter floating through the air, and it drifted away like a kite to the clouds.
Stepping out of the shower, the moments slowly came back.
Quietly locking his door with the spare key he left under the mat. Catching a taxi back to your small apartment. Falling asleep again on the couch before waking up just as the sun hit the horizon. Washing away the remnants of his scent - though, you could swear it was everywhere - in your hair, on your clothes, forever dancing over your skin like he could never be scrubbed away.
(1 new message - Hyunjin)
Why'd you leave?
You hated it when he did this. You hated him. And you loved him. You hated how he would call, and you couldn't resist saying yes. You hated how he'd say he could only fall asleep when it was next to you. You hated the way he looked at you.
You swore he looked at you like he loved you.
Tossing your phone back onto you bed, you went through the rest of your morning, hoping your next cup of coffee would bring the life back into your face.
Hyunjin always managed to reappear in your life whenever you finally forgot about him. It was like he was waiting. He only wanted you when you didn't belong to anyone else, and yet he never did enough to make you his.
Annoyed.
Aggravated.
Every heated emotion you could feel would course through your veins when you thought about him, yet you couldn't bring yourself to say no.
And you were only ever like that with him.
**
x
He knocked on your door at 3pm.
"Why'd you leave?" He recited straight from his text message, still left with no response on your phone.
You shrugged, letting him walk into your apartment without giving him an answer.
"Did I do something?" He grabbed your hand.
It was like something snapped. The button no one dared to press was suddenly slammed into, and everything came spilling out.
"Why do we only do this when you know I've moved on?" You said, spite glossing over your words almost like you wanted it to hurt. "You knew - you knew I'd finally gotten over my ex, and you called, like it was a routine, you knew I wasn't attached anymore. Why do we still do this?"
Hyunjin's grip on your hand was still steady. "I don't know what you want."
"Honestly, I don't either. Something... not this."
He always pulled you in so effortlessly. When Hyunjin hugged you, he would hold your face in his chest like he wanted you to hear his heart beating. He would nuzzle his face into your neck. It was never forceful, but it kept you still.
You leaned way, keeping him at a small distance. This was the first time he'd ever really seen you bare - no makeup, no filter, no effort to prove you were okay being his "maybe".
How many times can you fall in love with one person?
"Tell me what you want." Hyunjin spoke quietly.
He'd never had problems telling you how he felt about the others, girls who came and went. Superficial relationships that would be dedicated for a month and then no more.
"Tell me what to do - just talk to me."
"That's not something we do." You hissed. "We don't talk - we fuck, and you talk. About your hookups, your relationships, you just go on like it doesn't bother me." Backing away to the wall, you could feel your cheeks burn. "I hate it."
"Do you hate me?"
"Maybe I do." You nodded, you head hanging down. "I hate being this - this thing - this space you use when you need someone. I don't want to be the space between moments - I don't want to be the 'pause' between the girls you fall in love with"
Hyunjin almost looked satisfied with your response. This was the first time you'd gotten angry with him, and he knew it. He knew you held your tongue around him. He wasn't blind. He just wanted you to expose yourself to him. The intimacy was a step through the door, but it wasn't enough to make it home.
"I just - I want -"
Grabbing your shoulders firmly, Hyunjin made you look up at him, tears gripping your eyelashes.
"What do you want?"
The look in his eyes was the look of clarity. He asked this same question, but he had his own answer.
A small pur of a sigh, the motion letting the tears fall one by one. "I don't want to see you with anyone else."
He let you cry for a moment until your breaths were steady again. Stroking your cheek with his thumb, he kissed your forehead. His breath moved through your hair.
"I just want you to stay here." You whispered.
"Okay." He leaned into you, his hands on either side of the wall behind you. "I'll stay."
"But -"
"Whatever you want." Hyunjin's eyes were so close. "I'll stay here forever if you want me to."
"I don't understand."
"If I asked you to be with me when we first met, I thought you'd feel unfulfilled. We were so young, and we hadn't lived our lives yet. I would've been content to be with you until you said you didn't want me anymore. I wanted you to live and be done wandering until you were ready to just be mine and no one else's. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed."
The vague childhood jokes Hyunjin used to play on you began to replay themselves behind his words. The times he'd laugh and say "you should date him" - you hated it, but you understood.
"I had to learn how to love other people before I could love you - properly."
He loves me?
"That was the only kind of love you deserved - a proper, complete love. I've done what I needed to do. I made my mistakes, and I took the hard way out of my problems." Hyunjin kissed you sweetly, his lips moving slowly and carefully before pulling away. "I wanted to grow up, so I could love you properly." He rested his forehead on yours, his nose brushing against yours.
His hands gripped your hips firmly before he backed away, letting you see his face clearly.
"Are you ready for me?"
#skz#skz x reader#skz scenarios#skz fanfic#hyunjin#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin skz#stray kids x reader#hyunjin x y/n#hyunjin x oc#hyunjin x o/c#hyunjin angst#skz angst#stray kids#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#stray kids angst#romance#fanfic#fanfiction#my writing#x reader#angst#kpop scenarios#kpop stray kids#skz imagines
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The Road to Love and Truth (Blackhill)
Rating: Teen and up
Words: 2827
Chapter: 2/2
Fandoms: Marvel
Characters: Natasha Romanoff, Maria Hill, Steve Rogers, Nick Fury
Additional tags: -
Summary: Maria struggles after her night with Natasha. She gets some good advice from Steve.
Authors note: Blackhill Bingo square I3 "Steve Rogers"
Story below the cut or in AO3 here
Maria still has a huge headache. She's been debating taking another aspirin to ease it down for the past 10 minutes, but it hasn't been too long since she took the first one and it might just not be working yet. The situation with Romanoff might not be helping either.
Without thinking she's making her way towards Phil's office. She's not sure why, she knows she won't talk about something like this to him. He's a good friend but she just can't talk about her sex life with him, less about feelings. Maybe he'll have some work she can do to distract her from the night before. She can't use her key card on a day off, (Fury has made it very clear she's not supposed to be doing work during any type of leave) so she can't go to her own office to continue work.
Phil isn't in his office. Now that she actually thinks about it, he has been on a mission since yesterday. She still needs something to distract her though. Maybe Fury would let it slide this once if she'd go do work, but she'd rather not see him right now. She decides to just go for a walk. Hopefully that'll clear her head a little.
------
The fresh air does help her headache and clears her head just the tiniest bit as well. She stands outside of the Triskelion for a short time and decides to go for a short walk along the river.
She keeps her eyes mostly on the water as she walks hands in the pockets of her sweats. She probably should've changed if she's honest, but she didn't want to go back to her room. SHIELD agents weren't that rare sight around these parts, but they definitely didn't go out in their gym clothes. She kicks around some pebbles every once in a while that are lying around the sidewalk.
She loses track of time, trying to just focus on nothing but the movement of the water. And she might have let her guard down, because she gets startled, when a hand taps her on the shoulder.
"Maria, what are you doing out here?"
"Jesus, Steve. Warn a girl next time."
"I literally yelled your name when I saw you. You're not usually this distracted. Are you okay?"
There's concern on his face and Maria doesn't like it one bit. She's fine, and even if she wasn't, everyone else needs to think she is.
"Everything's fine," she lies.
Steve gives her a long look, not quite believing her.
"You can always talk to me, you know? Whatever it is that's bothering you, I'll listen."
Damn Steve, and his kind heart.
"I know," she says.
"Okay, well I'm gonna finish my run. Come and find me if you want to talk about whatever this is," he says as he runs past her.
Maria just waves him off. She continues along the river for a while longer until her headache becomes worse again. Deciding it's best to just go back and take another aspirin, she turns around and heads towards the Triskelion again.
------
Eventually Maria realises she needs to talk to someone so she heads towards Steve's quarters and knocks on his door. He opens the door with a smile. They're good friends but it's quite rare she actually ends up on his doorstep.
"Hey, Maria. What's up?"
"I slept with Natasha," she answers as she pushes past him into his room. She sits on his bed, head in her hands. She hears the door click shut as Steve closes it.
"Not what I was expecting. How are you feeling?"
Maria groans at the question, "I don't know. I find out she's queer and few days later I find her in my bed. That's not how that should go. And worst of all I want to do it again, but I don't think I can just keep it at that."
"So you want to ask her out?"
"I think so?" She says and lays down on the bed so she can stare at the ceiling. "But I'm her superior, it's unprofessional, not to mention way too complicated. How am I supposed to be able to send her out there, if I'm worried if she'll make it back? How is Fury supposed to trust in me, if I get compromised because of her? Or what if I make the wrong decision, because I can't--" Steve cuts her off. She feels the bed dip, as he sits next to her on the bed and places a hand on her knee.
"Maria, you're forgetting one important thing, she's the Black Widow, she knows how to handle herself. Do you know how many times she's saved me out there? Because I've lost count by now. And Fury won't see you any differently if you start showing normal people emotions. Also stop worrying about 'what if's. Those are situations you can't know the answers for before it's too late. And for the record, I think you're already compromised. You care more about her than you know. Have for a long time."
"Fuck", Maria breaths the word out.
"Language."
"No, I actually fucked up."
"What did you do?"
"I just left her. She wanted to talk, and I just left her. I wasn't thinking clearly. I told her it was a mistake. Well it technically was because that was definitely not how I wanted that to go, but… I let her believe I don't want her. Shit!" She gets up quickly and starts pacing around. "I gotta go find her. Tell her that I'm sorry for how I treated her. That last night was great. Not that I really remember anything. To hopefully ask her properly out." She freezes on her tracks and turns to face Steve. "What if she says no? How am I supposed to continue working with her then?"
"Maria", Steve warns her.
"Right, won't know the answers before it's too late." She takes a deep breath. "Okay, I'm gonna go to find her. I wonder where she could be."
"At the gym with Barton."
"How would you know that?"
"Just a hunch."
------
She does find Natasha at the gym. She's beating up Barton at the mats. Maria decides to just stay by the door and watch, she'll notice her eventually. Natasha seems more tense than normal, maybe even a little angry. She doesn't move around as smoothly as she usually does. Her movements are a little more jacked, more forced. Maria realises that she's not fighting with a clear head. She's trying to push her feelings out. Maria was the reason the Widow's usually flawlessly smooth fighting style looked harsh and broken. It makes her heart twinge.
Eventually Natasha pins Barton down and he taps out. She gets up and her gaze shifts to Maria's. Maria physically flinches under her gaze. She quickly straightens her back and neutralises her face, when Barton gets back onto his feet and notices her presence.
"Commander," he coughs, eyes moving from Maria to Natasha and back again. After a couple of beats of silence he starts backing towards the men's locker room. "I'll just go then."
Maria just looks at Natasha, not really sure what she's supposed to say. Before she's able to say anything, Natasha turns on her heels and heads towards the women's locker rooms. That gets Maria on the move as well. She runs after Natasha and grabs her from the upper arm.
"Natasha wait," Maria says and Natasha stops on her tracks. "I'm sorry about earlier. Can we talk?"
Natasha turns around and Maria tries to look as apologetic as she can. Natasha just stares at her for a while.
"Fine. My quarters in 10."
Maria nods and drops her hold of the other woman. She didn't even realise she had still been holding her upper arm. Natasha eyes her quickly once more before she turns around again and heads out of sight to the locker room. Maria just stands still for a while, looking after her, until she spins around as well and heads out of the gym and towards Natasha's quarters.
------
Natasha is punctual as ever, and appears exactly 10 minutes later. Maria follows her silently into her room. Natasha sits down on her bed, one leg under herself while the other hangs off the edge. Maria is reminded of the morning. She stays standing near the door, but is faced towards Natasha. She's trying to figure out her words, even though she's been trying to figure out what to say ever since she walked out of Steve's quarters.
"Well?" Natasha prompts her.
"I fucked up. I'm really sorry for how I treated you. I panicked and I fucked up. I try my best to keep my private life and work separate, and I mostly live at work so… I'm having a hard time, to put it lightly. I also have never done this before."
"What? Been with a woman?" Natasha asks with a serious tone. It takes Maria a beat to realise she's not actually seriously asking that.
"No, Romanoff. You know that's not what I meant. I mean sleeping with a co-worker. Actually kinda never slept with anyone without being on a date first. And especially never had someone in my bed in a SHIELD facility."
"So I was your first one night stand?"
"About that, I wouldn't mind doing it again."
"Was I that good?" Natasha asks with a smirk.
"Natasha! I'm not talking about the sex. I'm talking about all of it. Everything since the mission. Spending time together at that bar and during the mission and also everything that came after."
"Wow. Is Commander Hill getting soft?"
"No,” she says. Taking a breath she continues, “I'd just like to see if this could become something. You're one of the few people around here who I can stand, and I actually had a really nice time yesterday. And I'm not regretting what happened after, so that probably says a lot."
Natasha gives her a small smile.
"What changed?"
"What do you mean?"
"You left the room in such a hurry and now you're here saying you don't regret it."
"Yeah, that. I might've talked to Steve and he had some good advice."
"You went to Steve?" Natasha's voice sounds almost scandalous.
"Who else would I go to? Fury? Do you think I have many friends around here? People who I could talk to?"
"Fair enough."
"So, if I'd ask you out on a date what would you say?"
"I would love to, but do you really want to go on a date? Because I feel like we're not the dating kind of people."
That was actually fair, she did always hate going on dates.
"What do you suggest then?"
"How about this?" Maria is really unsure about how she should feel about the smirk that follows that one simple question.
Natasha gets up and walks towards Maria. She stops when their chests are basically touching. She grabs Maria's hands and wraps them around her waist. Then she wraps her own arms around Maria's neck and rises up on her toes to kiss her. Maria basically melts into it. Eventually she lifts Natasha up and they move on the bed. Natasha seems very impressed that Maria can lift her. Maria might be a bit hurt about that.
------
When they decide to leave for an early lunch (neither remembered to eat breakfast), they're barely 100 feet down the hallway from Natasha's room, when they're stopped by a junior agent.
"Commander, Agent Romanoff. Director Fury wants to speak to both of you."
Maria and Natasha exchange a look.
"Did he say what about?" Maria asks.
"Not really," the Agent answers but there's a look on his face Maria doesn't like. It's like he knows something he shouldn't.
Maria debates for a little bit, if she should push and get some answers from him but decides against it. She dismisses the agent and starts heading towards the Directors office with Natasha.
They get a couple weird looks and smiles on the way there. They walk the whole way in silence. Both clearly trying to figure out what Fury wants from them.
Fury sees them immediately, which tells Maria that it's something important. She's getting nervous. Natasha is here as well, so her mind goes only to a specific direction, but how would Fury know?
"Director Fury, you wanted to see us?" Maria greets him.
"Hill, Romanoff. Has either of you checked the news today or any social media?"
Natasha shakes her head. She's been awfully quiet after they ran into that agent.
"No, sir. I haven't checked my phone at all today. Pretty sure it's dead anyway. I've been a bit distracted," Maria answers truthfully. There's no point in lying.
"Well, you probably should stay out of social media for a little while but that's just a suggestion. Do you have anything else to report to me?" His eye shifts from Maria to Natasha and back.
He knows. Maria takes a deep breath. She feels Natasha's hand touch hers, a sign that it's okay.
"Yes, sir. We, uh... Natasha and I are involved."
"Will it be affecting your work?"
"No, sir."
"Then I'm happy for you," he says with the slightest hint of a smile.
Maria is surprised and she can sense that so is Natasha. She lets her posture get a little more relaxed.
"Now to the real reason I invited you in," Fury says as he pulls some tabloid articles up on the screen behind himself. They're all saying basically the same thing: Black Widow at a gay bar with a mystery woman . Some of them have clearly done a better job with trying to figure out who this "mystery woman" is because a couple of them have actual pictures of Maria along with her name. And there's pictures. Pictures of them kissing, the intense looks they changed during that night and pictures of them leaving together.
"We tried to get them down before they spread too far, but clearly we didn't manage that. Anything about the Avengers' personal life spreads like a fire. I'm sorry about the situation it puts you in."
Both of the women just nod. There wasn't anything to say. Fury takes this as his answer and turns off the screen.
"Well then, you're dismissed. Hill, if you could stay for just a little longer?"
Natasha squeezes her shoulder a little before she steps out of the room.
"Sir?"
"No reason to be that formal anymore. This is just me checking on you. How are you feeling?"
"Well, that's a lot, but I think I'm fine. It's not the way I wanted things to go, but I guess it's good that it's out. If we wish to go out, now we don't need to worry if someone sees us or not."
"Okay, still I wish the situation wasn't this. I strongly suggest that you don't check any social media for the next few days. I know you think you can handle it, but there's gonna be some bad stuff there and I'd prefer the dust settles a bit first. Also if anyone, and I mean anyone, in SHIELD gives either of you a hard time because of this, let me know. I will handle it. It's out there, so everyone knows. I wish you could've handled this on your own terms, but the situation is what it is."
Maria smiles at him.
"Thank you, Director. I know I said it won't affect my work, and I truly believe and hope so, but if it ever seems like I'm putting her before the mission; pull me out of it, if possible. I know I won't be happy about it, but I need to know that I won't be making mistakes because I'm compromised."
"Of course. But I have full belief that you'll do great even then."
Maria nods and heads towards the door but Fury's voice makes her turn around before she gets to open it.
"Also, before you go. I am truly happy for you, Maria."
Maria smiles at him and nods her thanks and joins Natasha on the other side of the door.
Natasha hugs her as she closes the door. Maria circles her arms around her and presses her cheek against Natasha's head.
"That went better than I expected." She hears Natasha mumble against her chest.
"It did," Maria agrees.
"I'm so sorry about the articles though. If I would've just realised--" Maria quiets her with a kiss.
"Natasha, there's nothing you could've done about it. The second we walked in there everyone was paying extra attention to us. Those articles would be there even if we hadn't kissed. I'm just glad we did. I don't think I would've ever dared to take this step otherwise," Maria says. She looks Natasha in the eye and they exchange smiles. "Now, how about that lunch?"
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—work out for me (M) jjk
🏋🏻♂️Part of the “Making You Sweat Like That” Collaboration
🏋🏻♂️pairing: neighbor!gymrat!jungkook x neighbor!reader
🏋🏻♂️word count: 3.2k
🏋🏻♂️genre + warning: 18+, nsfw, post breakup au, strangers/neighbors to lovers | mean ex-boyfriend, semi-public unprotected sex, wet sex, submerged sex, hot tub sex, kissing, groping, semi-clothed humping, teasing, sucking, biting, & marking, praise, scratching, creampie, post-sex cockwarming, jungkook has a fat cock
🏋🏻♂️summary: after a bad breakup, you move to a new apartment complex with a full gym and amenities. wanting to catch the eye of your very fit, across-the-hall neighbor, you start using the gym hoping to see him there. when he shows up to the gym and asks to join you, working out takes on a new meaning.
🏋🏻♂️an: this is a revamp of my original story from june of last year! i hope you enjoy the additions/changes made to the story, and please await the sister gym-fics for this special collab, coming soon!
collab masterlist coming soon!
“Who would want you!?” Changkyun says icily. He’s yelling as you walk with the last of your belongings out of the once shared apartment. You cringe, hoping the neighbors are at work or just out in general.
“Clearly you wanted me, Changkyun. I’m sorry that we’re not working anymore… But I can’t do this anymore.” You keep your voice steady, not raising it like you want to. He’s also lucky that your hands are full carrying this box, or else you would have already swung on him. But you know it’s best this way.
His toxic ass loves a fight, loves to create drama in your relationship because of the thrill of making up. Make up sex with Changkyun may be fun, but the rest of the relationship had gone stale a while ago. And you’re tired of fighting.
The last argument, he had taken it too far, so you’re done. You realize as you load your car that he finally caught on. You’re leaving him for good this time, and his fragile ego can’t handle the fact that you’re the one who is making the decision to leave.
He hopes that by insulting you he can get you to stop and face him. But you won’t make that mistake. You know he will use it to his advantage, turn it into hot, passionate sex, but you want more than just make up sex and drama.
“I can have any girl, YN! I’ll get someone better than you!”
“I’m sure you can have any girl. But I’m not just any girl.” You climb into the driver’s seat of your car, finally making eye contact with him one last time. “Good luck finding a woman like me. I truly wish you all the best.”
Swinging the door shut in his face, you back out your 4-door sedan and head out towards your new apartment in Itaewon.
The new Itaewon apartment is nice, with two bedrooms and one bathroom, you have ample space for all of your belongings. It feels a little empty that first week, and despite having had a tour prior to moving in, you are still not ready to use the facility's amenities fully. The tour showcased that the apartment had a computer lab, a pool, a game room, gym & sauna, and a small theatre room.
Scattered around between apartment buildings are a volleyball court, basketball court, and picnic area. You’re within walking distance to some of the more popular places to hang out for young adults your age, but have yet to go out and enjoy the nightlife.
Running down to your car, where you have left that last box after your encounter with Changkyun—files for a work project forgotten in the backseat—you spy the hot man who lives somewhere in your building. He’s walking back from the gym, shirt dark from sweat in spots as he carries a small gym bag on his shoulder. He’s staring at his phone; strands of his hair slick from perspiration block his eyes but the smile as he sees something on the screen gives you that funny feeling in your tummy. He’s absolutely gorgeous.
You pass him by, noting that his scent is still fresh despite the fact that he has to have just finished a vigorous workout, but due to the deadline on your report, you don’t have the time to linger in his fragrance that fills the narrow hall. You jog back into the building, and when you approach your door, you ascertain fate is on your side.
Apartment 613, directly across the hall from you, has the door propped open by a gym bag—one you recognize easily, since you had just seen it only a mere minute and a half ago. When a dark head of hair pops between the opening, bending at the waist to grasp the handle and pull the bag in, and you dart into your own apartment.
You feel like a blushing schoolgirl avoiding her crush, but his aura is intimidating to you. Maybe one day you’ll gather the courage to talk to him, but not just yet.
“What about, I don't know, making a change?”
Your best guy friend’s voice crackles through the phone line as you tidy up your living room. You hold your phone between your shoulder and your ear, keeping your hands free so that you are able to fluff the couch pillows and fold the throw blanket you fell asleep using on the couch.
“Okay Hoseok, what change do you suggest that I make? I already dropped 169 pounds of toxic ex. I feel like that’s pretty healthy.”
“Why not just go to the gym and use that to burn off all your pent up sexual frustration. You hurt Yoongi’s feelings the other night when you wouldn’t listen to his new track. You’re mean when you aren’t getting dick constantly.”
“Wow, thanks Hobi. Love you too.”
“See. Your sarcasm did not go unnoticed, hun. I’m just saying. Until you can get worked out… work out.”
“I know.” You let out a sigh, defeated. “I stopped going to the gym once I started dating Kyun, spending more time at home acting like a wife, when I knew he was too much of a player to ever settle down for real.” You glance to your front door, imagining 613 dripping with sweat. “I guess I could take your advice.”
“First time for everything.”
“Who the fuck decided going to the gym that their apartment complex provides at the same time, 7PM to 8PM every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday is a good idea?” you huff under your breath. It’s Friday night, and while most people your age are out on dates, cuddled up watching Netflix, or taking shots pregaming, you’re working up a sweat on the elliptical. The gym is normally empty at this time of night, nearing 8PM, and you aren’t feeling all that motivated. So why are you still there?
After moving into your new place, a couple weeks after leaving your longest relationship, you’re ready to be all about you. That’s why you decide to create a gym routine and stick to it, to reclaim your self-esteem your shitty ex had knocked down a peg or two. You didn’t realize how much of what he would say during fights started to become the voice in your head, until he was gone and unable to quiet the ache between your thighs and in your mind.
You’re ready to quit your gym regiment after the first week.
That is until your hot neighbor appears as you’re about to throw the towel in.
Hottie from apartment 613 walks in, black hair pushed away from his forehead but still extra floofy, a black tee and black joggers hanging loose off his lean frame. The fluorescent lights glint off the metal earrings dangling from each ear, and his eyebrow; you are enthralled. Each step he takes is fluid, his body moving gracefully across the black rubber gym flooring as he heads to the treadmill.
This isn’t the first time you have seen him in the gym. You saw him during the tour and when you were given your keys—you had come to see the setup of your mailbox area and test the mail key when you first had moved in, long hair in his face as he did pushups. You noticed his body first, despite the extremely baggy clothes he wore, and you could see his shape underneath as he moved. You then continued to explore the front lobby, computer lab, and gym areas, all so you could watch him as he continued to his arms, chest, and laughed with a friend in the gym.
If you’re honest, Apartment 613 is the reason you decide to take Hobi’s advice to go to the gym. Being located across the hall from him, in 614, you learn his gym schedule after overhearing the times his door would slam shut behind him as he hustles downstairs. You decide to time your trips 30 minutes before he’ll typically go, in hopes that you can run into him. Coincidentally, of course. Monday and Wednesday are failed attempts. He never shows up and you are left feeling dejected and sore. Friday is your last attempt, and you almost give up too, but then he appears.
You watch as he grabs weights off the rack behind you, working his arms, and you walk over to the nearby hooks with mats on them so you can sit and stretch. You’re done with your workout, and after stretching, you figure it’s a good time to hop into the hot tub to relax your muscles.
After completing a good full body stretch and watching Hottie from 613 move around the gym, who you notice has been slyly eyeing you up and down as well, you travel over to the hot tub, where you strip off the oversized T-shirt, leaving you in just your sports bra and spandex shorts. It’s now close to 10 PM, but luckily the gym is 24 hours, and the hot tub is located in a tucked away corner behind the sauna. Private enough for you to feel comfortable to be half naked for a quick dip.
“Mind if I join you?”
A honey sweet voice, perfect in it’s tenor pitch carries over your shoulder.
You turn, smiling softly at 613.
“Not at all. I’d love the company.”
He’s funny. So funny and super cute. He’s also super flirtatious, grazing soft touches to your arm and sweeping his fingers across your face to tuck your hair behind your ear. Currently, you watch as rivulets of the water run down his neck, following a vein you want to press your lips into and suck on as he tells you about his hobbies.
“What do you like to do—? Um, I actually don’t think we exchanged names yet.”
“Y/N. I live in building 6.”
“Jungkook, and me too! I’m 613.”
“I’m 614! We’re across the hall from each other.” You pretend to be shocked, knowing damn well that you have been privy to this information since you’ve moved in there.
“Wow, I’m surprised…” His eyes linger on your exposed cleavage. “I feel like I should’ve noticed you.”
“Really? What makes you say that?” you say boldly, moving across the hot tub towards him. The middle of the jacuzzi was actually pretty deep for your height, and standing up fully still has you under water from the armpit down.
You feel his hands on the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer to him between his legs where he sits, putting you both at about the same height.
“For one thing.. I definitely notice a nice ass. I don’t think I would’ve forgotten this one.” His hands glide up along your thighs, cupping your cheeks. Moving with the momentum, you allow yourself to climb up, straddling his lap without sitting down fully on him just yet. This puts you a little taller than him, allowing streams of water to flow from your breasts down along your tummy and back into the water.
He’s squeezing his fingers on your ass, feeling you up and you can sense when he rises with excitement from where your body straddles his. Feeling bolder than you ever have, you lean down and kiss him, and the movement causes you to rub your clothed core against the tip of his rising cock.
His lips are as soft as you thought they’d be, his pink pout moving skillfully with your own before his tongue asks for permission to taste you. Because you’re only wearing the spandex shorts, when his large hands pull you closer to him, his hardened shaft soon throbs against your pussy, feeling as if your spandex shorts are already off of your body.
Lowering yourself fully onto his lap, keeping your knees on either side of his hips, you stroke your core back and forth along his shaft, with your hands moving to wrap lightly around his neck. He places his hands on your hips guiding you back and forth along him. The friction of your bodies feels so good, despite the burn of your thighs after your workout. He slowly slips his thumbs into the top of your spandex, and begins to slide them down.
You let him.
You break your lips apart to catch your breath, because it’s already hot in the water, and every touch from him is making your body feel like it's aflame. You slide his boxer briefs down as he pulls your sports bra over your head, his shirt the last thing between you until you’re both naked in the hot tub.
Climbing back on top of him and using your hand, you grab his now fully firm cock and rub the throbbing head along your slit, parting your folds in order to use him to massage your clit. He moans softly into your mouth, a musical sound that gives you goosebumps. Bodies wet and temperatures high, you position him at your aching entrance and sit there with his dick head pulsing to go in, but you’re not allowing him entrance yet.
Jungkook moves his kisses lower down to your neck, suckling softly at your sweet spot behind your ear as his hands tug you impossibly closer.
“Teasing me after we’ve come this far, baby?” he whispers, his wet hair tickling your collarbone.
With his words goading you into movement, you give in, slowly lowering yourself while simultaneously rotating your hips. You engulf his dick with your walls and can feel yourself cream all over his fat cock as he spreads you open. It’s been a month—at least—since you last had sex with your ex, possibly longer, and Jungkook is just so much bigger…
You take a breath before continuing, slowly beginning to ride him up and down once you adjust to his size. You suck at his neck, enjoying the way the water helps you ride him. He bites your bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth before pulling away slowly, giving you a sultry look. The steam rises, hiding your naked bodies away from any potential peeping eyes.
You take in the view, the rising wisps of evaporating water framing his doe eyes and reddening skin. His lips are a magnet to your skin, and Jungkook doesn’t stop kissing along your jawline until he reaches your neck and he begins to suck, using his tongue to draw circles. It feels amazing. You keep riding him, enjoying the way he fills you up.
“Baby, can I go faster?”
His voice is low and whiny; you can tell he’s aching for more of you, as are you of him. You nod, biting your lip as your hooded eyes meet his own, and he pulls out of you with a sigh of relief for what’s to come. Turning you gently to face the edge of the hot tub, he has you lean your chest on the perimeter and guides your hand to the cool metal of the entry railing as he enters you from behind.
Arching your backside as high as you’re physically able, you lay flush to the ledge of the jacuzzi, spreading your legs apart farther where they kneel on the tiled bench to give him a better angle. He has one hand on the same metal railing of the whirlpool stairs and the other wrapped around your waist where his palm and fingers lay open and spread across your tummy, where he’s applying pressure in the hope that he can hit your G spot.
He’s successful.
You attempt to crawl away from the pleasure, climbing up further onto the ledge when your foot finally finds purchase on the slippery bench seating.
“You running from me?” Jungkook laughs, unable to stop the jovial sound from coming out of his swollen lips as he watches you try and escape the tantalizing way he fills you. You know you agreed he could go faster, but the fullness of his glide along your gripping walls has you wanting to backtrack. Who knew sex could feel like this—like you were about to reach nirvana, like once you come you won’t ever be the same.
“I don’t, see—ahhhhh… How this is a— ssss fuck! A laughing matter,” you cry out with trouble.
Your body tries again to run away. It doesn’t hurt; on the contrary the pleasure was too high, but he changes tactics to listen to your body. Lifting you almost effortlessly out of the water so your torso is fully onto the surrounding surface, he showcases his raw strength as he carries out this task while simultaneously plunging his dick deeper into you as he takes your original position of kneeling on the tiled seat in the hot tub, giving him the perfect angle to continue to fuck you.
“Ahhh, Jungk-kook, I’m… fu—!” He pulls out of you again, despite the tug of your walls to keep him inside and turns you on your back to face him. Bringing one of your legs up, he rests it on his chest as he begins slowly pumping into you.
“I knew you’d be flexible, Y/N.” Jungkook moans as he positions both of his hands on either side of you. You lift up the leg that’s still down, and he places it into the crook of his arm.
“Go as deep as you can,” you pant, “and stay in. I want to feel you.”
Pulling you back into the water, Jungkook carries your now weightless body to the deeper part of the hot tub, holding you in place. You’re practically folded like a pretzel; both of your legs are hooked at the knee in the bend of his arms and his cock remains nestled deep inside of your cunt, walls pulsing around him as your muscles try to fight his thick penetration.
“You take me so well, damn baby.” Jungkook praises you and he’s rewarded with a tightening grip that tells him you’re more than enjoying the moment with him. He’s definitely enjoying the moment as he’s buried within you.
You place your head into the crook of his neck, and claw his back in an attempt to pull him closer. You’re moaning loudly by this point, so you bite his neck to keep from yelling. Jungkook backs you up into the wall of the hot tub and begins to pump faster, and you can feel yourself build towards climax again. The water’s penetrating against your back from the jets, and Jungkook’s penetrating your front.
“Ah, fuck… Jungkook—don’t stop, uh-huh… Kookie, deeper… right there!” you yell as he finally hits his last few deep & hard strokes, before finally emptying himself out into you. Your walls quiver around him, sucking out every last drop that he pumps into you.
You’re breathing hard, and Jungkook sits on the ledge seat in the water with his head back and his eyes shut. You float over to where he is and he grabs you so that you’re straddling him, though this time you rest your head on his firm chest.“Damn, that was a fucking workout.”You laugh into his strong chest.
“It was worth the pain I’ll feel tomorrow.”
He looks down at you, his chest feeling light as he takes in your messy bun, cute smile, and the way your eyes are shut as you relax against him.
“How about I give you a full body massage back at my place to make up for having you work out for me a second time tonight?”
↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2020-2021. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.
thank you for reading! ♡ 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘺 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘪 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵. ♡
#bangtansorciere#bangtaninn#networkbangtan#ksmutclub#bangtanuniversity#bangtanwhq#hisunshiine writings#hisunshiinewritings#bts fic#bts fanfiction#bts au#bts story#jungkook smut#jungkook au#jungkook writings#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfiction#jeon jeongguk#jeongguk#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook smut#gymrat jungkook#gym jungkook#hisunshiine
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smile like sunshine vi
Thursday: ~ 9.2k words
previous chapters: i // ii // iii // iv // v
an: writing this was tough on me. I’ve obviously been through a lot of ups and downs while trying to write this, considering it took like 4 months to finish. Continuously losing inspiration and motivation and hitting writer’s block too many times was tough. The chapters keep getting longer and I feel like there are less and less notes everytime. It hurts to see my favorite fic do so poorly, so I've been hesitating to post this. But it’s finally here, and there are only 2 chapters left. Now, let’s see how few notes this gets. Thank you to my beautiful amazing editor/bestie @folkloreflyers I couldn't have done this without you bb 🥰💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
tagging some beautiful people: @sunflowertimothee @deleausvp @dunnwithlyfe @smit41 @softboybarzal @fallinallincurls @matbaerzal @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @hockeyhughes11 @folkloreflyers @nazdaddy @shawnsreputation
summary: after everything that happened last night, Mat and Y/N realize they probably need some time apart to regroup with their thoughts and emotions and prevent themselves from pushing the boundaries of their friendship so far that they’d never return to normal. It’s 2019, eleven years after you first befriended him, and things are definitely different this time around...
If there was ever a time when you wanted to slip away into the memory of what you once had with Mathew: an amazing friendship, not overshadowed or blurred by stupid hormones and growing feelings, it was now.
It was almost tragic to think about how you’d lost all that time and could never go back to the days when you were completely carefree and nothing could bring you down. Those hot, summer days with Mat when watermelon juice and sticky, sugary ice pops dripped down your hands, and your faces were burnt in the sun were long gone. You’d never be like that again. No matter how often you dreamt of it, thought of it, and buried yourself in memories of that summer to block out the worries of adult life, you couldn’t get it back.
The sun was going down on your second to last night at the beach, as you sat by Mat in the sand, giggling as the water lapped at your toes and digging up handfuls of the tiny coquina clams burrowing in the sand- not that you knew what they were called, but did it matter? Your parents sat further back onshore, talking around a fire and watching the younger children, and you and Mat, like always, were left to entertain yourselves. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. No, you loved spending time with him.
You didn’t realize that your time with Mat was coming to an end. You weren’t sure what day of the week it was, where you were, or when you were leaving, but that didn’t matter. Not then.
“Are you having fun with Mat?” Your mom had asked you earlier in the day.
“Yeah, he’s my best friend!”
“Well,” Your mom laughed. “Why don’t you go have some more fun with him. Cherish your time, we won't be here forever.”
You didn't quite understand the weight of her words, but cherish him, you did. The two of you were attached at the hip, to both your parent's amusement, and after only a week of friendship now, your parents could hardly separate you two.
“Ugh, younger siblings are so annoying." You groaned in agreement to Mat's statement and fell back in the sand when you looked back and saw your baby siblings sucking up all your parents’ attention.
"Yeah, 'cause they're smaller and cuter than us."
"No, that's not true!” Mat shook his head, dark hair flopping around in the breeze, hazel eyes wide. “You're still pretty cute."
"Ewwww, Mat!"
"So am I, my nonna told me!" You laughed at him. Only a week into knowing each other and he could already make you laugh better than any of your friends at school. "So that's not it."
"Well, they always have all the attention. I'm so bored and lonely sometimes."
"Nuh-uh, you have me. I'm always here to hang out!" He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, his small, sand-covered arms, and neither of you noticed both of your parents watching from the campfire. As wise as they were, they knew that if you had been a few years older, this would’ve been too much for them to handle. And little did you and Mat know, at only ten and eleven years old, but you were about to be separated for eleven years.
“Friends forever?”
“Forever! I’ll always be here!”
“Promise?” You stuck out your pinky, and Mat linked it happily with his own, smiling that gleaming smile.
“Promise.”
You had fucked up something amazing.
You woke up early with a pounding headache right as the sun began to beam in through your window, hitting your face in the worst possible way. You’d never so hated the sound of the ocean, but right now, it was just… too much. Too loud. For the first time since you had arrived at the beach, you didn’t wake up smiling and excited to be here, but instead dizzy and confused, questioning what had happened last night, and filled with dread at the thought of having to face the day. And, when you realized what you’d done in your drunken stupor, regret immediately began gnawing away at your mind.
You had fucked up bad.
You buried your face under your pillows to try and drown out the pounding noises in your ears as the image of yourself flooded to your brain, absolutely wasted and stumbling, pushing your body into his, pushing your mouth onto Mat’s and kissing him. It was drunken, messy, and definitely not the way you'd imagined many, many times, your first kiss with him to be. It wasn't magical and beautiful and gentle and sweet, but drunk and sloppy and one-sided. Unreciprocated. You couldn't stop thinking about his reaction. He hadn’t kissed you back, his hands didn’t cup your face gently and pull you flush against his warm body the way you imagined, but instead pushed you away and held you between his arms and looked at you. He hadn’t even smiled or laughed and brushed it off afterward. He must have been disgusted with your actions, he must have wanted to yell at you, ask “What are you doing?” but understood that you were drunk and settled for pushing you away. He'd confront you today, tell you that he couldn't look at you the same way after what happened, tell you that he no longer wanted to be friends. That when you’d get back to New York, you would never speak to each other again.
Fuck.
“(YN)!” The pounding on your door made you cringe and groan. Well, it might not have been pounding, but it certainly sounded like it, as your head throbbed in agitation. “Wake up honey!”
You groaned and rolled over in bed.
She cracked the door open as quietly as possible, showing a little bit of sympathy, which you were thankful for. “Hungover?” Your groan was enough of a response for her. “You’re not gonna get better lying in here, come out.” When you still didn’t answer, she continued. “I’ll be louder next time I have to come in to get you.” And then she left you to drag yourself out of your lethargic state.
Well, fuck, you thought as you cast a glance out the window where the sun was rising over the ocean, might as well get up and face the day, no point in hiding. You needed to get some fresh air, maybe some alone time on the beach before Mat gets up. You needed to talk to someone about what happened, you couldn’t keep this to yourself, but who would you tell? Not your mom, no one in your family actually. Sure, you were close, but you weren’t gonna tell them about your drunken mistake- how you kissed your best friend. Best friend. Your best friend- all the way back in New York City, who always helped get you out there, was the reason you ever reconnected with Mat in the first place, and would definitely be your maid of honor in the future- would definitely want to know about your kiss with Mat Barzal.
“Amy…”
You reached over to the bedside table for your phone and the first thing you noticed, after pressing the power button, was an unread text from none other than Mat Barzal, sent at 1:38 am, probably when you got home last night:
Maty: Hope you don’t feel too bad when you wake up.
It was strange, it was unlike him to leave such a message. Yeah, he always checked in and texted you saying he hopes you’re feeling good, but there was no “sleep tight” or anything funny or cute and not even a smiley emoji like usual. Well, in his defense, you had just kissed him. Of course, he’d feel weird around you.
You sent a quick text to Amy, who you hadn’t spoken to since the beginning of the trip now, and who must have been dying to know anything that happened between you and Mat. She would probably be happy you kissed him, bless her heart, she was in love with your friendship with Mat and the story of how you came to meet, but you needed someone to listen seriously to your problem and help you.
It’d be at least another hour until Mat gets up, you guessed, so, with much hesitation, you dragged yourself out of bed and to the bathroom where you steadied yourself on the sink as your head spun, washed your face, and caught a glance of yourself in the mirror, running a hand through your hair to smooth it down before opening your door to face the day.
The first thing you noticed, even in your state, was the smell of coffee and breakfast from the kitchen. Usually, you loved that scent, but today it made you want to puke, and as you sat down at the island in the kitchen, you dropped your head into your arms and groaned.
“Rough night?”
“Pretty bad.”
The sound of a water bottle being set down in front of you was much louder than it should’ve been. “Drink, it’ll make you feel better.” You took a sip of water and laid down on your arms again, going back to suffering in silence and wracking your head over trying to figure out any possible way out of this sticky situation. “What else is wrong?” You looked up to where your mom was making knowing eyes in your direction. You were close to your mom, sure, you thought you had a pretty good relationship with her, but you were positive you didn’t want to tell her what you had done last night. At least, not now. You knew the news would eventually get to your dad, and you couldn’t imagine what would happen if he found out.
Hopefully staying pretty ambiguous would save you. “I think Mat’s mad at me.”
“I doubt it. The boy adores you.” You wanted to tell her no, that’s gross, you’re only friends, but something made you stop. Mat did adore you. He was always there for you, he was the greatest friend ever, and how do you repay him? By kissing him and screwing up both of your feelings? “What makes you think he’s mad?”
“I think I did something stupid last night. Said something dumb when I was drunk. And he sent me a text before bed last night that didn't sound like how he usually does.”
“Well, you won’t know until you talk to him. It won’t be any good to ignore him for the rest of the trip” Fuck, why did her advice have to be good words of wisdom?
A door rattled open from down the hall and there was Mat, rubbing his face, his hair falling into his eyes, as he crossed the hallway into the bathroom. He cast a glance to the kitchen, locking eyes with you for half a second before he was gone.
You knew he’d be getting up now, so, grabbing your water bottle and phone, you made your way to the back door to avoid any alone time with him. “I’m gonna get some fresh air.” And you headed out the back door and down onto the beach.
Amy had texted you back by now, telling you to call her right away, and you took the moment to reflect, walking down to the water’s edge and just looking out. The early morning heat was cooling down, the sun had barely risen and already dark clouds were rolling in from the horizon, the rain was coming, maybe even a storm in the next hour or so. Sure, you may have made your friendship awkward, but for now, you’re still friends. At least until he comes out to confront you. So until then, you were gonna be proud. You had kissed him. His lips were just as soft and nice as you expected them to be, and his face pressed against yours was something you could get used to. Unfortunately, that scenario was unlikely.
Your heart raced when you started connecting the video call, and you couldn’t help a smile from spreading over your face for the first time all morning. Yesterday, besides the mistake you’d made, was easily one of the best days of your life. Mat took you out to the pier because he remembered you loved it when you were younger, he remembered he promised to teach you to skate, he even remembered your favorite ice cream flavor. And, despite how much you regretted kissing him, you had kissed him. You had kissed Mat. God, Amy is gonna be fucking ecstatic for you.
“Haven’t heard from you in a while.”
“Ames, I’m sorry for not calling sooner-”
“Are you kidding?” She laughed, always a welcome sound, and you knew she wasn’t upset. “You’re on vacation with Mat fucking Barzal. But now that I have you for a few minutes, girl, spill. All. The. Details. Now.”
“Yeah,” You laughed at her words. All the details? “He took me out to the pier yesterday for my birthday. We roller-skated together and held hands.”
“Oh my god, seriously? That’s so fucking cute!” You winced at the way she shrieked in joy for you, your head still pounding as you tried to overcome the hangover. Amy immediately noticed your change and lowered her voice. “Girl, are you hungover?”
“You tell me. I’m twenty-one now, aren’t I?” Before she could start talking again, you continued, figuring it would be easier to just get all your words out there and over with. Rip off the bandaid. “Actually, I did something really bad last night. When I was drunk.”
“Oh shit. Spill!”
“I…” You couldn’t help the small smile on your face. As much as you hated the realistic part of this, you were still overjoyed it had happened. You shook your head and pushed on. “I kissed Mat.”
It was almost comical how your friend’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened. It almost made you laugh, it had a little smile pulling at your face. Holy shit, it was still sinking in that you’d kissed Mat. “Oh… my god. You kissed Mat. You kissed Mat Barzal. How was it?”
“Well, messy. I was drunk, he didn’t kiss back at all. But focus on the realistic part, Ames. I made it awkward.”
“Oooh…”
“How are we gonna be friends after this? He’s gonna hate me, he’s gonna wanna leave, he’s never gonna want to talk to me again. He must think I’m so dumb-”
“Babe, listen, he doesn’t think any of that. He’s head over heels for you. If not in love, then in platonic love at least.”
“Now you’re sounding like my mom.”
“I hate to say it, but I actually agree with her then.” You sighed. As much as you wanted to listen to them, maybe the realistic side of your brain was just too powerful. “Mat has done stupid things around you when he was drunk. Remember the karaoke night? He was so fucking embarrassed in the morning.”
“Yeah, but he never kissed me.” He never kissed you, not once. Not even when you desperately wanted him to, when he was drunk or Christmas Eve, or New Years’, or his birthday, not even when you practically created chances to get close to him, not even when you kissed him. No matter how much you wanted it, life isn’t a love song. “Look, things don’t just work out like in romance novels. Some things don’t get to last beyond one summer. Sometimes this shit just doesn’t happen. Sometimes it’s just a feeling.”
“It’s only a feeling ‘til you make it more.”
“Shut uuuup. He hasn’t spoken to me since then. He’s obviously upset.”
“Have you tried to talk with him?”
“I mean…”
“So you haven’t. C’mon, you gotta at least ask him about it.”
“Okay, but if I ask him how he feels he might say he doesn’t want to be friends. If I avoid him completely, he can’t break off the friendship, right?” Before she could respond, you rambled on, maybe to her, maybe just to yourself. Sometimes it’s good to just talk yourself out of something. “We’ve become such good friends in the last year and I really don’t want to lose him because of something stupid that I did while drunk. I feel like I messed everything up.”
“Babe, babe. You didn’t mess anything up.” Ames smiled at you over the phone as thunder rumbled in the distance. “This isn’t gonna drive him away, okay? He’s in too deep already. Trust me.”
“Alright, we’ll see.”
And you would see. But now, you had to go to the porch, already feeling raindrops drip from the looming clouds above. The storm was rolling in. And it was coming fast.
------------
Even before Mat’s eyes opened that morning, his mind was racing.
He rolled onto his side in bed, eyeing the pillow he had been hugging against him all night. It was as if he was a child who needed a teddy bear to fall asleep, and he hated how vulnerable you made him feel. But rather, you were his teddy bear and after that night in the motel, he couldn’t sleep without some sort of faux version of you that would never compare. Not to your warmth, your softness, your heartbeat against his chest, the soft sighs of breath against his neck. You had messed him up bad. You had kissed him, and it’s unnecessary to think it needs explaining why he was so confused. “I had a dream about you last night. We were really goin’ at it. You were really good, like, really good.” What had you meant by it? Was it just a dumb mistake? Or is what they say true: “Drunk words are sober thoughts”? The moment your lips touched his last night, he was flooded with serotonin. It was… well, maybe not perfect, but more than he could ever hope for. More than he thought he would ever get.
He wanted it so bad, he wanted it for months now, but he wanted it sober. He wanted you to know what you were doing. He wanted you to mean it. He didn’t want it like last night.
He pushed himself up, hearing the muffled conversation from the kitchen. He knew it was you and your mom, and, though he couldn’t hear any clear words, he couldn’t help but realize that the conversation had to be about him, and for a moment he was strangely self-conscious. It was an unfamiliar feeling for him, but he was embarrassed, even ashamed he had let anything happen last night.
He shouldn’t have let you get so drunk.
The moment he opened the door and stepped into the hallway, the conversation came to an abrupt stop. He glanced up into the kitchen, where he immediately caught your gaze, noting how much of a wreck you were this morning. He couldn’t help the way he rushed into the bathroom before you could say anything.
He heard you say something about “fresh air” and then the back door opened and closed, he finished up his morning routine and rushed back into his room. He’d barely even sat back down in bed when there was a pounding on his bedroom door that was a lot less than friendly.
“Mathew!”
Your dad was gonna fucking kill him.
It was safe to say he’d never been more afraid as he jumped to his feet and stepped over to the door, debating on pulling out his phone to send a final “Goodbye, I love you” texts to you, his friends, and family. But there didn’t seem to be any time for that, as the pounding on his door increased. Sucking up a deep breath, he opened it and was greeted by the face of your father with crossed arms and a scowl. He could only choke out a terrified “Yes, sir?”, sounding like a pathetic teen boy caught in a girl’s room.
“(Y/N)”s upset.”
"I-"
"I don't know why that is, but something tells me you have something to do with it." Mat went silent, trying to figure out what he could say. You were upset? Were you upset with yourself, or with him? He had stopped your kiss, brought you home, got you water, and tucked you into your bed, what had he done wrong? “She thinks you’re angry at her.”
“Why would I be-?”
“Mathew.” The boy closed his mouth when your father put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him over towards the bed. “Sit.” Mat nodded quickly and sat on the edge of the bed, flattening his hands on his thighs awkwardly and waiting for the lecture to start. “Listen, I don’t know what’s happening between the two of you, but I can see how much you mean to her. I know I shouldn’t be too hard on you, but I just need to make sure you’re going to treat her right.” Mat couldn’t help the smile that lit up his face momentarily. He was in the middle of opening his mouth to say thank you when your father rambled on, eyes narrowed, examining the boy in front of him. “(Y/N) has been hurt a lot in the past, and I’ve tried to help. It’s not my place to mess with her love life anymore. She’s not a baby. But the least I can do is make this right. I still remember what you said on our first day here. You like my daughter?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “I really do. A lot.”
“Good. So then you didn’t mean to hurt her?”
Mat’s head shook frantically, wracking his brain for what he might’ve done. “Absolutely not. I don’t know why she is, I don’t think I did anything wrong.”
“I’ve seen her hurt so many times, and I’m gonna trust that you’ll treat her right. Now, I don’t know what happened between the two of you, and I’m not going to ask. That’s between you two. But she thinks you’re angry, you’re obviously not, and you need to fix it.”
“I know, I promise I will. I’ll make her so happy, I swear to God, I promise you.”
The older man continued to look at his daughter’s friend for a few long, tense seconds, but Mat’s eyes gave everything away with no hesitation. His feelings were genuine, he truly, truly cared. He wasn’t lying. Slowly, he nodded, and Mat’s face lifted in a cautious smile. Was this… approval? Was this your father’s blessing? Your father slapped his hand on Mat’s back. “There’s something else I want to show you. C’mon, Mat.”
-----------
You sat alone on the porch with your little pile of shells, watching the rain pour down beyond the porch, watching the waves continue through the storm, always pushing and pulling despite the circumstances. And as you threaded shell after shell onto your little braided bracelet, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.
It was the summer of 2015, you were sitting on the passenger side of his dad’s car, the wind in your hair and OMI's 'Cheerleader' playing on the radio. You had just turned 17 and were trying to live your best life on the coast with your new friends, forgetting about any of your responsibilities and just chilling for this trip. You might have been getting involved in the wrong crowd, but you couldn’t care less. You had your friends, you had your newfound teenage freedom, and, most importantly, you had him.
When you first met him, at the beginning of the summer, he was new to your group of friends. But he immediately seemed to take a liking to you.
“You’re different.” He would whisper in your ear as you sat around the campfire with your friends before breaking away from the group to go make out by the cliffs. “There’s just something about you.” He would say as his hands glided over your swimsuit under the water, hidden from your other friends eyes. He knew just the right words to say to have you sinking into him, giving in, And you were stupid to follow him.
In the back of your head, this party was a stupid idea, but it was summer, you were young, he was hot, you had to live your life. What was the worst that could happen?
Kyle was behind the wheel of his dad’s car- maybe he had taken it without his permission, maybe not, who knows?- his beachy blonde waves blowing in the breeze and his blue eyes sparkling behind dark sunglasses. His hand was on your thigh, he was always touching you in some way, but what you didn’t know was that you weren’t his only girl for the summer. He wasn’t trying to hide it, all the signs were there, but you were too carefree to notice.
The car came to a stop and you both jumped out, locking arms around each other before running over to the steamy, crowded party atmosphere.
Really, what was the worst that could happen?
You were sitting there lamenting over your past, nursing a cup of coffee and staring out into the thunder and rain, fidgeting with the object closed in your fist when the door opened down the porch. And when you looked up, of course, you were met by the man himself, wearing a lightweight gray hoodie, the hood pulled up over his dark waves of hair. “Hey Y/N.”
“Mat.”
There was a moment of silence, perhaps for your damaged friendship or perhaps for the growing feelings that neither of you believed were reciprocated, as you both stayed in place, not knowing what to do or say to the right things to make it better. You let the silence, the tension settle uncomfortably between the two of you as the rain pounded as heavily as your hearts. Mat stayed in place where he was standing at the doorway, not wanting to come any closer. Whether it was because he was upset and grossed out or something else, you couldn’t tell, but you needed the silence to end. “Mat, I’m so sorry about last night. I didn’t mean- I was just, I was drunk and I couldn’t think straight-”
“Hey, hey. No big deal.”
“No, it was so uncalled for, I-”
“Hey, (Y/N), I’ve had people kiss me while drunk before.” He gave you a reassuring smile, but something was missing. Something genuine. That sparkle was missing from his eye and the sunshine was missing from his smile.. Something had definitely changed. Something definitely wouldn’t go back to normal. “Seriously. It’s nothing.” He swore. Cross his heart. Something was definitely wrong, but you weren’t going to bring it up. If he was alright with moving past this, so were you. “You don’t have to feel bad at all.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. Friends?” He stuck out his pinky for you.
You smiled at the gesture that threw you back to your childhood and accepted it happily, despite the twinge of guilt and fear in your chest. “Yeah, friends.”
“Good. I’m glad.” Mat smiled, taking a seat next to you, pretending everything was normal. “I like being friends with you.” He was shouting at himself in his head, this is so fake, so forced. But he would rather force the comfort than not have you in his life at all. And then the silence was back.
The silence was painful, filled with unspoken words- words you could never say aloud- and both of you knew. You weren’t sure if the rain was picking up or it had just become so overwhelming between the two of you that you were hyper fixating on the patter patter patter of raindrops against the porch roof. Friends. Friends. If this is what it's like to be Mat's friend, you could only wonder what it would be like to have him as your own, to be his, to hug him and kiss him and protect him and have him do the same to you.
“I, uhhh.” You glanced over to see Mat’s eyes already dead set on you, and you wondered if he had been staring the whole time. You were almost shy as you opened your fist to him. “I finished it.”
“Woah.”
"Yeah, you like it?"
“I love it.” Mat took the bracelet with delicate fingers, as if afraid he was going to break it, and slid it onto his wrist gently. A perfect fit. "It's amazing. You're really talented. Seriously. " His eyes were unbelievably soft as he gazed at the pretty shells you had worked so hard to braid together for him. All for him, from you. “I’ll never take it off.”
"Oh, never?"
"I'm dead serious."
Your heart throbbed in your chest. The idea of him wearing this bracelet you had worked so hard on, even when plagued by the thought that maybe he wouldn't want to be friends at all anymore, just had you so overwhelmed. The idea of him wearing something you made for him, something so personal, as if it was there to constantly remind him of this summer, of you. Like it was a cute inside joke no one else would ever understand, made your heart ache. It was as if you were claiming him, as if he was claiming you as one of his best friends, one of the few people that got a glimpse into his private life. You were special.
“I’m serious.” He repeated. “Honest. I love it.”
“Thank you, Mat.”
His arm fell heavily but gently across your shoulders as he tucked you closer into his body, and something about the weight of it against you was comforting, a reminder that he was still there no matter what and he would always be there no matter what. Mat was resilient, and no matter how much you wanted to push him away, he was here. He was your friend. Forever, and through anything.
"Hey," Mat broke the silence. "I have something for you, too."
"Yeah?"
"Consider it a late birthday gift."
"Mat, you've already gotten me so much-"
"Ah, ah. Your dad actually found these. I'm just presenting them." Before you had a chance to ask or even wonder what it could be, Mat was pulling some flimsy rectangles from his hoodie pocket.
"Are these...?"
"From that summer." Mat finished with a smile, letting you take them from his hands.
"No way."
There in your hands were photographs your parents took of you and Mat, ten and eleven years old. The two of you were standing close, Mat’s arm around your shoulders and squeezing you into his hug, both of your faces lit up with wide smiles. You were so close that summer and you weren’t sure how your parents dealt with the two of you. That picture captured a moment of childish joy and innocence- grinning brightly in mid laughter as you built your final sandcastle of the summer together. LIttle did you know, back then, but the next morning, you’d be leaving, leaving your summer-long friendship behind.
“Look at us.” Mat’s voice was tender, gentle as he leaned in closer and you fingered through the pictures. “I can’t believe we were so small.”
“I can’t believe you still smile the same, Maty.”
He laughed at the nickname that threw him back to that first summer. He quieted down for a few moments as you flipped through the rest of the pictures, his fingers drumming softly on your arm. “I still can’t believe we found each other.”
“I know.”
You could hear your heartbeat pounding against your ribcage as Mat leaned in closer to look at the pictures with you. Your breath hitched in your throat and you stopped suddenly as one picture caught your attention- the family picture taken that year, with both your family and the Barzals posing together as friends. But what really stuck out to you was the way Mat’s face was pressed up against your cheek, in the most innocent, childish kiss you’ve ever seen.
“Wow, look at that.” Mat chuckled a bit through his words, his eyes soft behind you. He didn’t remember kissing you at eleven years old, but seeing that picture brought sparks to his veins and had memories flooding back to his mind. It was you. You hadn’t just been his first crush, but his first kiss as well. “We’ve come pretty far, eh?” Your silence was almost painful to him, and he couldn’t help the way his face fell. Wrong thing to say, wrong thing to say, oh god oh god oh god.
“Yeah, we have.”
He smiled again as your voice filled his ears.
“Do you remember that place, Mat?” His eyes followed your finger as you traced the rocky cliffs in the background of the photo. Oh, did he remember. The little hidden beach, surrounded on three sides by rocky cliffs and sandy dunes and the little ocean inlet shallow and warm and perfect for swimming in, was a beautiful place that immediately brought back memories. You had first found that place on a family walk, and Mat had dared you to jump off the cliffs into the water with him. Of course you didn’t end up jumping, as neither of your parents let you out of their sight.
“It’s our little hideaway.”
“Yeah.” You sat in silence for a moment, in awe that you had such a private little place with him, and noticed how the rain was slowing down. “When it stops raining, do you want to walk there tonight?”
“Absolutely. As much as I love your family, I’ve been dying to spend some time with my girl again.”
My girl. My girl. My girl. Too much?
But the smile on your face reassured him. “I wanna spend more time with you too, Mat.” You threw your arm around his shoulders in an act you thought was sweet, but regretted it and drew back your arm as soon as he let out a sharp hiss. “What’s wrong?”
“Ah, nothing.”
“You’re sunburnt, aren’t you?”
“No, no, it’s not bad.”
“Mat, I told you you’d get burnt!” He was quiet, red faced, and you weren’t sure if all the red was from the burn or embarrassment. “Let me see.”
“I’m fine.”
“Mathew!”
“I promise.” But you stood up, always just as stubborn as him, photographs in hand, and held your hand out to him. He looked up at you, amused. Oh what you did to him.
“Come on. We’ll fix you up, dummy.”
Mat laughed and shook his head before giving in, his palm sliding into yours and following you obediently back into the house.
-------------
The rainclouds had finally cleared, though it was too late in the day to get any sunlight in, and instead the vast blanket of stars were already beginning to twinkle overhead when you and Mathew headed out after the family dinner.
“Mat, look at all the stars tonight!”
“You still love them as much as always, yeah?”
“Of course!”
Mat watched you, adoration evident in his eyes, as you gazed up at the sky in awe. He had to agree. There weren’t stars like this in the city, not even in his hometown. This little oceanfront town didn’t produce enough light to block out the beautiful heavens above. But, his eyes were still fixated on you, on the wonder in your eyes and the way you were so soft and amazing in everything you do. The moon could be falling, for all he cared, there could be a literal alien spaceship in front of them, but all he could see was you. “Beautiful.”
“They look best after it storms, I think.”
“Yeah?” Mat could do nothing but nod along, too lost in his own thoughts to find words to say. He hoped he didn’t seem too boring, but walking there, hand in hand with you and feet in the warm sand, his mind couldn’t help but wander. What if you loved me, (Y/N)?
“I think I wanna be a constellation when I die.”
“That’s-” Mat laughed a bit louder than he meant to at your sudden confession, and stumbled to pull himself back together. “That’s a little grim to talk about, isn’t it?”
“I mean, I just think stars are so pretty, and I’d just love to be twinkling up there, looking down on people. Plus, I’m more of a night person anyway.” You smiled, and Mat’s heart fluttered in his chest. “What about you? If you were reincarnated as something? Maybe… ice? So you could live and die with hockey like you do right now?”
Mat didn’t even need to think for a second, he knew his answer immediately. Stars, stars, I’d lie in the stars with you, spend all eternity by your side. I’d drop hockey, all the wins and the trophies and the attention. I’d drop it all for you. “Yeah, that’d be pretty cool.”
You walked, hand in hand, down the length of the beach, until you could no longer look back and see your house. Until houses no longer speckled the shore, and instead it was just you, Mat, the ocean and the stars, in your own little world. The shore rose beside you, and after walking around a little bend, you were suddenly hidden away in a little sandy inlet, rocky cliffs surrounding you on three sides, and the ocean, gentle and lapping on the other.
“Here it is.”
“Looks the same as when we were young.” Your hand slipped out of his, just for a moment, to pull out your phone. “Smile, Mat.” His face lit up, not in one of the dazzling smiles you remember and loved so much, but a softer, gentler little smirk.
“Before and after pic, huh?”
“Yeah.”
For a few moments, his eyes gleamed in mischief, and you should’ve known what was coming.
“You know what? You still never jumped off the dock at the fishing spot with me. But I can think of something that would be even more fun.” You were about to ask what, but the smirk on his face as he glanced towards the cliffs and raised a hand to motion towards it should’ve told you that nothing innocent was coming. “Remember that dare?”
“Oh my god.” You laughed at the excited look on his face.
“Let’s jump off that rock.”
“Are you the bad influence my parents always warned me about? Who asks if I’ll jump off a bridge with them?”
He laughed, loud and boisterous and bouncing around the sandy dunes and cliffs that hid you away from the rest of the world. “Maybe I am.” And then he stretched his arms above his head and tossed his shirt to the sand, the muscles of his now bare chest and shoulders shining in the pale moonlight, watching with a giddy smile as you looked him over with an incredulous laugh. He took a few strides back towards the rocks, giving you an enticing smirk and luring you out to him like a siren with his song. “So? You coming in or what?” You should’ve turned back right there; you should’ve recognized the signs and listened to your head rather than your heart, your hormones, and turned back to shore and ran, left him here alone instead of stepping over this boundary- scratch that, fucking barrelling through this boundary like it was a race to finish- but you didn’t. You stayed. Worse yet, you stepped towards him, foolishly, blinded by that goddamn stupid smile.
No, no, you really shouldn’t. But you were so fucked for him, for that smile, for that cocky little “gotcha” laugh that he always did when you followed him so blindly, without any hesitation. You were so in love. Fuck it.
“Unfortunately, Maty, I’d follow you anywhere.”
There was a rocky path leading from the sand up the side of the cliff, a natural staircase, or so it had seemed when you were younger and more imaginative. Mat grabbed your hand to help you up, his palm big and heavy against your own, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you used to make it up here as children.
At the top, your eyes met the most beautiful sight, and, for once, it wasn’t just the man standing next to you. The moon had risen over the ocean, casting its cool glow across miles and miles of water. The water was dark and blue and lapping gently at the pool below you, and the air was still warm, though the rocks beneath your feet were finally cooling off. You both watched in silence for a few moments, taking in all the beauty of the scene before you and forgetting all about his hand in yours.
“It’s certainly a lot smaller than I remember.” It was true, the rock definitely wasn’t as high as you pictured it to be. It was a high cliff, sure, but standing atop it was much less intimidating than facing your feelings for Mat.
“Yeah, well, you were a lot smaller eleven years ago too.”
He snickered, his hand squeezing yours, perhaps subconsciously, or maybe in realization, he’d still been holding it. But he still didn’t let go, and neither did you. His face was warm, not that you’d ever notice, not in the dark. “Well, you’re about the same size.”
“Mat! Not true!”
“Yeah, it is.” He pulled you against his side like he always did in a little half-hug and laughed that beautiful laugh of his. After a few more moments of smiling silence, Mat hummed in thought. “Ya know what? I know what would make this jump a lot more fun.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“Skinny dipping.”
Your heart almost stopped when the words passed his lips. You hesitated to respond, laughing a little bit. “No, you’re not serious.”
“Yeah, I mean, no one can see us out here. There are no houses nearby. Only us.” It was tempting, so, so tempting, and Mat could tell you were right on the edge of saying yes. You were. “Listen, I’ll stay far away from you the whole time and I won’t even look at you, I promise. But we’re leaving soon, we'll probably never get another chance at this exact spot, and we’re twenty-one, twenty-two, let’s do something reckless. Let’s be stupid together. Yeah?”
You bit your lip, and Mat would never admit to you how much you turned him on at that moment alone, but he stored that image away for later tonight. You were considering it, but both you and Mat already knew you had made up your mind long ago.
“Sure.”
“Yeah?”
You laughed, the excitement of doing something so scandalous and dangerous and intimate with him finally settling in. Mat smiled back at you, you both laughed and looked at each other with complete reckless abandon. There was nothing else to lose after this. Easily every shred of friendship would be gone. You couldn’t be just friends anymore. “Let’s be reckless.”
“Let’s go, baby!”
“You first, though.” You stepped away from him and motioned towards his shorts, your heart pounding and cheeks hot. The smile on his face should’ve warned you that he wasn’t playing around here, but for some reason, you were still shocked at what he did next.
“Alright, fine.” You could feel a slickness between your thighs as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of his shorts and smirked as he shimmied them down, making a great show of swaying his hips and biting his lip, trying and succeeding to be as sexy as possible. And though you jokingly laughed and pleaded for him to stop, the dull ache in your core only worsened when you caught just a glimpse of what lay beneath the fabric, at the end of that V shape in his hips. Your eyes shot up to the sky, your face red hot and shy when he lifted his swim trunks as proof and flung them towards your feet.
“Ew, Mat!”
“Come on, your turn!” Your heart pounded and you couldn’t help the wave of self-consciousness. But Mat’s smile was addictive, and he made you so comfortable, comfortable enough to have you pulling Mat's hoodie over your head, letting it fall by your ankles and leaving you in your bikini.
“Turn around, Mat.”
He raised his hands in surrender and smiled as he turned, and you couldn’t help but glance- for just one second- down at his toned thighs and ass. Wow…. “I know you’re staring, y/n/n.”
“Wha- no!”
“I don’t mind, babe. Look wherever you want. I'm all yours.” And his body shook with laughter as you undid the string of your top and slipped out of your bottoms and tossed the fabric towards his feet. You could see him do a double-take at the sight, as if he didn't believe you were serious about skinny dipping, but you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh, to busy marveling at his physique, the dark swoop of hair he kept running his hand through- a nervous habit you’d recognized as far back as 2008- the muscles of his back and shoulders, the dip at the small of his back, his toned ass, his thighs... He wasn’t even looking at you, but there was something about how you were so bare, so vulnerable, so close to him. Just the idea of his body and yours being so close and so primal, so exposed, and about to take this leap… something was stirring up a fire, a fire you'd put out later. Your fingers slipped down between your thighs momentarily, marveling at how hot Mat made you before they wiped hastily on your thigh and you stored those memories away for later that night. Your other hand curled into Mat’s again, and his fingers squeezed around yours at the contact, as if it was the most natural thing to do. The only thing against his body, besides your own skin, was the bracelet you had put all your love and energy into, all for him, and now you were standing on the edge, taking a final breath. About to jump. About to fall with him as hard as you’d already fallen for him.
“You ready, Maty?”
“I think I should be asking you, pretty girl.”
You hesitated, still a little nervous, trying to build up that excitement. “Countdown?”
“Course. After three. Say it with me?”
“Okay." Your thumb smoothed over his hand, tightening your grip. "Three.”
“Two.” He squeezed back.
“One.”
Mat gave a final, devilish smirk as he whispered “Jump.” and, with one of his iconic howls, your feet were off the ground.
You felt so free, so vulnerable, so exposed, falling naked through the cool air, hands clammy and grasped against each other, shrieking in excitement and adventure. You had bared yourself to Mat, you had stripped yourself of any fears and leaped with him, as if each article of clothing that hit the ground was another shedded insecurity, another forgotten reason for hesitation. You’d pushed the boundaries until they couldn’t go any further, then said “fuck it” and tore the boundary away. There was a brief moment of fear as you hit the cold water, but the moment you resurfaced with a gasp to see Mat’s smiling face, his hair dark and saturated, dripping into his eyes, you couldn’t help but laugh.
You'd done it.
"Wow!"
“Right?”
Your combined laughter filled the little inlet with squeals of glee as you splashed around with Mat. It wasn’t too deep, but deep enough that your feet couldn’t touch the bottom, and you instinctively gravitated towards Mat. You moved closer toward him, maybe subconsciously, as if your body craved his more than your mind would ever be able to comprehend. As if you were pulled to him by some force you couldn't control, the same way you'd found each other after 10 years apart, how you'd found yourselves here again, so close, so opened up and bare before each other, even after you'd both thought you'd wrecked any chances. How you had found the sunshine in Mat's smile again, even after the rain.
"Was it worth it?"
"Absolutely!"
The water was cold, goosebumps were popping up along your arms and legs, and across Mat’s as well. And as you drew closer to him and reached out for his wrist, dragging your hand from the bracelt he wore so proudly, up the length of his arm, his hands reached for yours as well, looking for a lifeline as his smooth voice reached your ears.
“You cold?”
You nodded and ran your hands across the tight muscles of his biceps, warm despite the chilly air, and flattening them against his chest before bringing them up, up, up behind his neck to tangle in his dark, wet hair. Your breath hitched in your throat when Mat's hands dipped under the water to your waist, leaving a bit of space between your bodies and honoring his promise from earlier to stay away, but asking permission with his eyes. His big hands squeezing your waist was making your mind spin, and you could barely stutter out a quiet: “You?”
“Nah. Feels fine for me.” He grinned, "But I can help you." He pulled you ever so slightly closer, slowly, slowly, until you were flush with each other, your bodies slick and wet and warm in the cool water, every crevice and curve fitting against each other like puzzle pieces. Mat’s blown eyes traced over your face, from your eyes, down to your lips, and leaned down, pressing his face against your shoulder and pulling you as close as possible, bringing a knee up to prop you against him. He opened his hot mouth along your skin, leaving wet kisses across your shoulder and up your neck. Your chest was pressed flush against his, your nipples poking out hard against his skin, your hands in his wet hair, his big hands engulfing your waist with his touch, his knee inserted between your thighs to keep you against him, floating, weightless, against him. “Let me help?”
And God, how you wanted him to help.
It seemed as if every part of you was touching. Your skin was hot and wet and the sound of the gentle lapping of water against your bodies and on the shore made everything feel like a dream. Even more euphoric, though, was the way Mat's eyes- dark and needy- found yours, in the way you'd always seen in your dreams. The way you'd only seen in your dreams. Until now.
And then, finally, your mouths.
Your mouths collided hot and needy, open and wet and the furthest thing from chaste, wanting to swallow each other up, to ease the aches you had tried to bury so deep in your bodies. You wanted to get so lost in him that you’d never come back, so lost in him that for the rest of time it’d only be you and Mat and the ocean. Weightless, naked, and hot. And he wanted to bury himself in you, hide away from the rest of the world for just this night. He’d been craving it all week. And what he’d been craving was more than sex, it was the affection, the intimacy, the closeness of being with you, entangled with you, so gentle but so needy, giving in completely and finally- finally- letting your hearts take control. His tongue was slippery and warm against yours, and it felt, for a moment, as if this was meant to be.
“I would treat you so much better than he did.” Mat’s mouth was hot and wild and messy against yours, breathing against you and moaning out his confession. “I would be so much better. I’d fucking cherish you.”
“Mathew.”
“Fuck, I’d take such good care of you.”
“Mat, I want you.”
“Fuck,” He groaned against you, rocking his body against yours gently. Your hands burnt his skin wherever you touched, your nails dragging along smooth, wet skin and leaving angry red lines in their wake, dragging down his sides, over his hard abs, right to that one forbidden area. “I want you so bad, baby.”
There were no more words, only hot, aching silence as Mat held you against him. You were slick between your thighs, even under the water you could feel that familiar warmth, the tingling in your belly at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his face against yours, his nose pressed against your cheek as his lips ravaged yours, his tongue delving into the crevices of your mouth to taste you, to feel every part of you. His hands slid to your ass and pulled you as close as possible, molding your skin against his and gluing you to him with the passion. You could feel his desire, hard and swelling and needy between your bodies, and you wanted him. You wanted him more than anything.
“Stop, stop, stop.”
Mat, always concerned with you before anything else, pulled away, his eyes wide and worried, his hands dropping you back into the water, where you pushed yourself back as fast as you could, trying to catch your breath. “What?”
“We can’t.”
He said nothing else, but nodded and stepped away from you, averting his eyes, his face hot and his head spinning. Fuck, he was still aching. But you took your chance to wade to shore and scramble up the rocks to collect your clothes and hide yourself again. You were shaking, trying to shake away the shame flooding through your body at what you just did. Fuck, fuck, fuck, why did you have to do that? Why did you do something that stupid? If last night didn’t ruin your friendship, tonight certainly did.
Mat was standing in the sand at the bottom of the cliff, turned away from you, trying to even out his breathing, and you brought his swim trunks down as a courtesy, the least you could do. “Thanks.” His voice was choked up, strained, and he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck before pulling them back on.
The walk home was silent, but not silent in the way that it had been earlier, comfortable and warm. There was no hand-holding, no smiles, no funny small talk. Only pain and heartbreak. Both your minds were struggling to process the last hour. Why had you decided to leave the house tonight? Why did you let yourself take it that far? How could you ruin something so amazing? How many chances would you give each other before giving up and never spoke again?
You almost ran up the porch into the house and to your bedroom, as Mat followed silently behind. Your bedroom door was already locked, you were already hidden beneath the covers, tears in your eyes and hands between your thighs with the thought of Mat paguing your mind, when Mat made it to his, glanced across the hallway at your door, and finally hid himself away.
He wished he didn’t feel this way, he wanted nothing more than to love you as a friend, but the same as every other night, Mat fell asleep with you floating through his mind. Only this time, it was more than your image. It was the smell of you, your burning touch, your sweet taste as your tongue danced against his own, imprinted on his brain, daring him to even try to think of another woman ever again. He bit his tongue as he jerked his desire desperately into his hand, holding back his moans and his cries as he spared one last thought to you before spilling out and letting the tears stream down his hot cheeks.
And he fell asleep, sticky and shameful and, like always, thinking of you.
#mat barzal#smile like sunshine#mat barzal x reader#reader insert#nhl fanfiction#mat barzal fanfiction#fic#op
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It’s Okay || pjm
Pairing: Maine Coon!Hybrid!Jimin x Male!Reader
Request: hiii can i request a jimin x male reader fic? maybe an angst/comfort hybrid au where jimin is a homeless hybrid who escaped from his abuser owner and is now trying to survive in the streets. the reader would find him and try to help him, but since jimin is scared and doesn’t trust humans, it’s a bit harder than he expected.. (i’d prefer a series but you can make it a one-shot or drabble or whatev boils your noodles lol) thank you in advance and have a nice day!
Summary: When walking down your normal road, you spy a long, fluffy tail. And when it connects to a bruised and bloodied up hybrid who immediately hisses at you, you find yourself trying everything in your power to bring him home….even if you have to suffer a couple of scratches along the way.
Warnings: Angst, lots of angst, burning of the skin with cigarettes, mentions of starving from neglect/punishment, punching, slight mentions blood and cleaning the wound, night terrors
A/N: Wow, you were my first request! I am so sorry it took long. However, I enjoyed writing this piece a lot so I hope you enjoy it, too! If people like this so much, perhaps I could make a second part (I already have one hybrid series I’m planning on making so it might be too much to make this into a series :)) Also, forgive me if there are any mistakes!
Jimin hates being a hybrid. No, scratch that. He despises it. He despises himself. Because of his nature, he’s immediately treated with little to no respect by most humans in society. He’s treated like he’s some type of scum on the bottom of their shoes.
Which isn’t true at all but who will ever listen to him, right? He is just a mangy good for nothing hybrid, after all.
He despises humans. After all of this time observing them, after experiencing them first hand, he has deemed them greedy, selfish and just evil.
They are all evil.
Without his permission, tears well up in his eyes, and he hastily wipes them away out of habit in fear of being caught. He blinks and then dryly chuckles, looking down at his burnt scars that dotted his arms. Who is going to burn their cigarettes into his now dry and cracked skin? Who is going to punch their frustrations out on him again?
No one, right?
He escaped them.
He escaped them.
.
Sighing in relief and with a smile, you wave bye to the last customer that walks out of the coffee shop. Immediately, your smile drops.
“Holy hell, today was busier than a fucking highway,” you groan, shoulders drooping dramatically. You let the broom slide in your hand until only the tips of your fingers are barely holding it up.
“Yeah, why do these people need all of this coffee on a Friday afternoon anyway?” Yoongi complains, dropping his head on the counter, his recently dyed mint hair covering his eyes. “It’s like they’re addicted or something. Damn.”
“Takes one to know one, Yoongles,” you tease, holding the broom properly again and resuming sweeping.
Huffing at your joke, he stretches, popping several bones in the process (that you may or may not be worried about).“Yeah but unlike them, I know my limits.”
“Hah, funniest joke of the year. Yeah, right, dude.”
He reels back like he has touched fire and gasps. “Wha-excuse me, mister but I know my limits.”
“No, you really don’t.”
“Ye-”
“Yoongi-” you stop sweeping, putting your hand on your hip. “-you drank 5 cups of coffee in one sitting during exam week. And then, the next week, you kept chugging energy drinks like they were nothing so you could finish your ‘precious song’.” One by one, you start listing off all the times he has drank too much coffee and energy drinks. His body deflates with each jab at his pride until he’s crumbling in on himself.
It’s a hot minute before any of you say anything, quietly cleaning up the shop so that you could finally go home.
“Fuck off, pretty boy,” he finally says, middle finger in the air and face heating up.
You bark out a laugh. “So you finally admit that I’m pretty, huh? Jin owes me $5.”
“You fucking-”
.
“Don’t forget, 8 o’clock tonight, my apartment. Don’t be late like last time, brat,” Yoongi scolds, adjusting his glasses. You throw your hands up, a cheeky smirk on your face.
“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
You wave bye to your coworker as you exit the coffee shop. Humming to yourself, you begin your journey on your normal path to home. Mentally checking off your to-do list before you have to get ready for the annual hangout you and your friends have every week, you spot in the corner of your eye a fluffy, blonde blob. You turn your head, fully stopping and squinting.
“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself, creeping up on the blob. It grows until it stops at a…
“Holy shit!” You yell, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth in disbelief.
A hybrid. A cat hybrid, to be specific, is laying on the dirty and wet ground of the alley way. His eyes are closed, and you timidly squat down near him to examine him. Matted blonde hair sticks to his face with what you can only assume is sweat and dirt which is also smudging across his face. His lips are forming a pout and he moves a bit, making you jump back in surprise. When he stays still after, you continue your examination. His skin looks dry and his cheeks are sunken in. Trailing your eyes down his form, you notice how worn and ragged his clothes truly are. And how big they look on him. Your eyebrows furrow at his state. Someone did a beating on this poor guy.
He whimpers in his sleep and without thinking, you do something stupid. Something incredibly stupid.
You reach your hand out towards him, to pet him or give him comfort, not really controlling your urges to get close. And that’s when you instantly regret it. His eyes snap open, and you yelp in pain as his claws swipe into your skin. Recoiling back, you immediately grasp your now bleeding arm, eyes glued to it. Three deep scratches litter your arm and blood starts to come to the surface.
Even if you’re the one that got scratched, you apologize.
“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer, letting out a shuddering breath. “I should’ve given you your space. I’m sorry.”
“Leave me alone!” He hisses, shuffling far away from you. Growling, his entire body shakes as flashes upon flashes come back to him. Pupils reducing to slits and ears flattening against his head, he swipes at you again,
You mentally slap yourself in the face. Of course he would scratch you. You invaded his personal space and reminded him of his abusers. You scared him. You back up, giving the hybrid one last glance, guilt racking every bone in your body for scaring the hybrid before you walk away.
He doesn’t meet your eyes.
-
You rush home, your makeshift bandage from the napkins in your pocket soaked in blood. He got you deep. But it wasn’t his fault. It was yours.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you repeat to yourself. “How could you be so fucking stupid?”
Someone holds the door open for you as you slide past them, muttering a quick thanks.
“Hi, Mrs. Hags. Bye, Mrs. Hags,” you yell out to the landlady, rushing past people into the elevator of your complex.
“Bye, dearie,” she calls out. “Odd fellow, he is. Isn’t that right, Mr. Whiskers?”
Her cat only yawns in response and she immediately coos, getting right back to her knitting.
Stomping your foot impatiently, you give an awkward smile to the other tenants present in the elevator. They smile back, weird looks on their faces as they realize you’re holding your bleeding arm and you silently wish that the elevator would hurry the hell up. Sighing in relief as the elevators dings, you squeeze through the opening doors.
“Odd fellow,” One whispers out.
“Yeah, very odd,” Another whispers back.
Fumbling with your keys to your door, you curse in frustration as you drop them. Picking them up, you unlock your door after what seemed like forever. Finally, practically throwing open your door, you race to your bathroom, not caring as your door slams behind you. Dropping everything, you quickly get the first aid kit out.
“Fuck,” you hiss in pain as the alcohol seeps into your wound. Tears fall from your eyes from the burning sensation. “Ah, I’m melting, I’m melting…fuck, I’m dumb.”
After 10 minutes of grueling pain, you look at your newly bandaged arm. That was so stupid of you. How could you just invade his space like that? As you focus on your arm, dumb thoughts running through your head, your phone rings, snapping you out of your thoughts. Fishing it out of your pocket, you groan again when you realize it’s Yoongi. You still had time to get there, two hours really, so why was he calling you?
“Hello?”
“Y/N, wanted to let you know that Joon got the stomach bug so the hangout is cancelled. Hobi and I are taking care of him.”
You can hear groans of pain in the background and Hoseok teasing. “Quit being a baby, Joonie. It’s a mere stomach bug.”
“Feels like I’m dying, Hobi,” he groans dramatically.
“Sounds like you have a handful, Yoongles,” you chuckle, putting up the alcohol and first aid kit.
“Yeah, unfortunately.”
“Okay, thanks for telling me. I hope Joon gets better. I have some stuff to do so I have to go.”
“Yeah, right. Bye, Y/N-Namjoon, did you just hit me with a pillow?”
You can hear Namjoon yelling “Cuddles, now!” before Yoongi hangs up, eliciting a belly laugh out of you. How Yoongi and Hoseok put up with their boyfriend, you have no clue but more power to them. Staring back at your arm, you nod as you come up with a plan to win the hybrid over. Or at least apologize to him. You roll up your other sleeve, making your way over to your kitchen. You’ve got work to do.
-
It’s a couple of hours later when Jimin finally retreats from his hidey hole to see a brown paper bag with a note attached to it. An amazing smell wafts through the air that makes his stomach growl in hunger. He slowly crawls forward, tail swishing in curiosity, and snatches the note from the bag.
I’m sorry about today. Please enjoy your dinner.
P.S, I hear Maine Coons like this fish, assuming you are one. Enjoy :)
-Y/N (The guy who is really sorry about invading your personal space)
He hisses in disgust, shifting backward from the paper bag. The note flies from his grasp and lands in a puddle, immediately getting soaked from the dirty water. What if you poisoned it? Or laced it with something? Are you working for…her? Are you going to take him back? It’s not like he’s never had the wonderful pleasure of starving before. She would make sure of that. He can deal with it. He has done it plenty of times, one more can’t hurt…right?
He sits there, just glaring holes at the bag as rain drops hit him, trying so hard to ignore everything. The smell, the wonderful smell. He clenches his teeth so hard he’s afraid he’ll break them as another sharp pain shoots through his stomach, accompanied by a familiar grumbling. He tries to ignore it. He tries to focus on something else. Perhaps the way his bones are shivering from the rain will do? No, that makes it worse. Makes him want whatever is in the bag even more. It seems warm. Warm enough to make him warm. He wants it. He needs it. So much.
Ignore it.
Ignore it.
Ignore. It.
But, a guy can only take so much.
The smell surrounding him in mockery and the nagging pain finally makes Jimin grab the bag, fishing out the food and digging in, without sparing it a second glance. He’ll worry about the consequences later.
He almost moans from the taste he thought he had forgotten long ago. The fish is still warm, kept in a container that keeps the temperature insulated and whatever soup you got (or made, he can care less) goes perfectly with it.
In a matter of minutes, the fish is finished, and Jimin is gulping down the remaining soup. He pulls back, licking his lips and sighs in satisfaction. His stomach is warm from the soup. He’s not shivering that much from the rain anymore. He actually feels…cozy and it’s incredibly weird to him. Something foreign almost. He places the bowl back into the bag and crawls back into his hiding place. Curling up, yawning, he thinks of you and quietly mumbles a thank you before falling fast asleep.
-
It is a couple of days later when you return, bandage wrapped around your arm. Jimin growls in annoyance and begrudgingly relief. You seem..okay from his scratch.
Stupid human can’t follow a stupid task.
“I come bearing a peace offering,” you smile, holding out two bags.
Jimin’s eyes study the bags and then trail up your hand and to your arm. Annoyingly, in his opinion, guilt racks up. You notice his eyes glued to your arm and you wave your hand.
“Don’t worry about. My friend Jin said it would be fine.”
You lock eyes for a mere second before he’s immediately spitting back, “Like I care.”
He averts his eyes, letting out a loud huff. You sit down, slowly sliding one bag towards him. He views the action from the corner of his eyes. What are you doing? He turns his head just a bit to get a better view and his eyes widen.
“What are you doing?” he practically screeches as you pull out your lunch for the day.
“Taking my lunch break. What else?” you tease, waving the take out container in your hand. “Would you care to join me?”
“No.”
You shrug your shoulders and open your container. “Suit yourself, buddy.”
You begin eating and Jimin rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and looking away. Again, he repeats the same mantra from last time.
Ignore it.
His stomach rumbles and if you heard it, you make no move to comment and instead, continue to happily eat.
“Wow, this chicken is to die for. Compliments to the chef,” you groan, giving a chef’s kiss. “Sure you don’t want any?”
He knows what your game is. You’re just trying to rile him up to eat the food so that you can do whatever you want with him. No, not this time. It won’t work. After you leave, he’ll throw the food away. He is sure of it.
“I am positive I don’t want your shitty food,” he snaps.
You wince, putting a hand to your chest. “Ouch buddy, that hurt.”
“Not your fucking buddy either,” he growls in annoyance.
“Just slash at my feelings, why don’t yah?”
“Gladly.”
That is his last and final word. You finish your lunch, taking one glance at the hybrid and leave. Jimin sits there and makes a move to throw out the food. He hesitantly reaches out but backs away. His eyebrows furrow at his dilemma. On one hand, should he waste food like that? That would be wrong of him. On another, did you poison the food this time? Can he really trust that you didn’t?
He lasts a total of five minutes before he’s digging into the food. Maybe, just maybe, you’re a decent human. Just maybe.
-
It takes you weeks to earn the still nameless hybrid’s trust. Even then, it was only a small amount. At least you could sit closer together and talk about random things. That’s why it surprises you when he meekly asks if he can go with you this time.
You widen your eyes at his request. “What?”
“When you leave, can I go with you? Y/N, please?” His ears are flattened against his head and his tail is curled around his waist.
“I don’t even know your name-”
“Jimin. It’s um, Jimin.” He blurts out. He clears his throat, face flushed, eyes looking at every thing but you.
“Jimin…” you whisper, the name so foreign on your tongue. “Pretty name. What made you want to come with me?”
“I…” he didn’t expect that question. “I don’t know. You just seem…comforting, I guess? I don’t know, it was stupid. I’m sorry-”
You cut him off. “Shh, it’s not stupid. I’m glad that I seem comforting to you. My answer is yes, you can come home with me.”
His eyes widen and it’s the first time you have ever seen him smile that wide before. You hope you’ll see that smile even more in the future.
-
“And this is your room!” You gesture with your arm. “I had to quickly clean it since I honestly didn’t think you would come with me so forgive me if it’s still a bit dusty.” You walk in but he doesn’t follow. You turn around towards him, cocking your head. “Jimin?”
Jimin can’t say anything. This is all for him? But, he didn’t do anything to deserve it. He didn’t please you. He didn’t let you use him as a personal punching bag for your frustrations. This is a trick. It has to be. No one is this kind to a stranger, especially a hybrid. A hybrid who hurt you. For fuck’s sake, he scratched you. Yeah, he wanted to come home with you and yeah, he did say you were comforting but he expected that you would make him share the same room or something. He didn’t know what to expect. Just not this.
“Jimin?” Your soothing voice lures him out of his mess he calls his thoughts.
“I-I can’t accept this room, Y/N.”
You must’ve pulled a face or something because Jimin is immediately tense, ready to dash right back out on to the streets.
“Why?” is the only thing you ask.
“What?”
“Why can’t you accept the room?”
He wraps his arms around himself, his tail joining them. “Never had this before. This much kindness thrown at me. Expected to..pay you in return.”
“It’s yours now, Jimin. No payment needed.”
“Why are you so kind to me?”
His question throws you off-guard and it takes you a minute to answer. You brush the lint off of his comforter. “Because you deserve it. I can only assume you’ve been through hell and back. Why not live the rest of your life peacefully?”
“Thank you.”
With that, you smile and leave him be in his new room. A couple of hours later, he joins you for dinner. Whatever you made smells heavenly. Quietly sitting down, he watches as you put the pot on the table in between you two. The bowls are already set and you serve him first before serving yourself. He mutters a “thank you”.
“Dig in, Jimin. I hope you’ll like it. New recipe I’m trying out,” you hum, taking a spoon full of the stew and blowing on it. He waits until you take a bite first. You smile in satisfaction as the spicy fish stew came out perfectly. Just the right amount of spice. He should’ve known better, really. You never wanted to hurt him in the first place but old habits die hard and he finds himself gauging your reaction to the food. You didn’t trick him before, you didn’t poison him at all, so why should this meal be different? Maybe it’s because he’s on your turf now. He waits and when he deems the food is safe enough to eat since you aren’t spasming out of control from poison or getting sleepy from a sedative, he digs in.
Wow.
You’re an amazing cook.
It doesn’t take Jimin even 5 minutes to finish his bowl and your heart aches just a little at the mere thought of him being hungry ever again.
“Must’ve been good?” You tease light-heartedly. Jimin nods, licking his lips clean. “Want a second bowl?”
His eyes widen at the aspect and you only take his bowl to fill it up again. Jimin wastes no time finishing the second one. He feels all warm, fuzzy even and he looks down at his stomach in confusion. This is a familiar feeling. A feeling he had on the day you two met. It takes him a good solid minute, weighing the pros and cons of asking you if you had made that soup. Would you think it was weird if he told you he had remembered the fuzzy feeling? Would you think it was weird if he told you that that was the only time he had ever felt close to home? Finally, he concludes that either way, he needs to know because he cannot stand the stupid curiosity that’s nagging him.
“I..I have a question,” Jimin mumbles.
You nod, gulping down the remaining water from your cup. “Shoot.”
He looks around the room as he hesitantly asks, “Did, did you..you know, that soup..”
“Soup? What soup?”
“You know, that soup.”
“I’m not following, Jiminie?”
His face heats up at your nickname for him but you don’t seem to realize that you even said it in the first place. He finally blurts out, “The one that you gave me the first time we met! Did you cook it?”
“Oh.”
“I just,” he continues. “It was the only time I ever felt..I don’t know. Nevermind- it’s stupid.”
“Yes.”
“What?” Did you actually think it was-
“Yes, I made it. I wanted you to have a homemade meal. And I was apologizing to you so I thought it would be a bit more..special I guess.”
“Thank you..”
You both clean the dishes, wash up and head to bed. Jimin is finally alone to just process everything. This could be a home for him. He lays down, relishing in the softness of the bed. He wraps himself with the comforter. It smells so nice and it feels so warm and so..homey. Yawning, he doesn’t notice the smile creeping up on his face as he closes his eyes, sleep taking over.
-
A couple of weeks have passed and having Jimin around is such a delight. Not having to come home to an empty apartment feels so much better. He helps you clean, he accompanies you when you’re watching something on the tv. He lets you ramble about your day at the coffee shop. It takes Jimin a while to grow used to being here. And not everything is so pleasant. Countless of times, Jimin has woken up from night terrors, from flashbacks of that place. And this time isn’t any different.
It’s around 4 in the morning when Jimin wakes up, his eyes flying open from the nightmare. Gasping for air, he looks around. Everything seems so hazy, so dark. All he can remember is him screaming for you.
Oh no, oh no, oh no. You’re not going to give him away, right? Right?
You weren’t anywhere in sight and he could feel himself panicking. He rapidly jumps up, trying to find the light switch or the curtains or something to give light. To give him hope that you hadn’t sneakily sold him back to her. He trips over something and reaches out his hand, grasping a cloth and pulling it down with him. Moon light floods the room and he curls up, sobbing and shaking. His heart is racing and he silently begs for you to appear.
You jolt awake at the loud “thunk” coming from somewhere in your apartment. You jump up, grabbing your baseball bat and tip toe out of your room. Hearing whimpers from Jimin’s room, you drop the bat and rush in.
“Jimin, oh my god, are you okay?” you ask alarmed, freeing him. He’s shaking all over, eyes closed and arms wrapped around himself.
“Please tell me I’m not there again. I don’t wanna go back. Please, please please..” He repeatedly mumbles. “I’m a good boy. I’ll be a better boy, I promise. Please, just don’t take me there.”
Without thinking, you wrap your arms around him, rocking him back and forth. “I promise on everything holy that I will never leave you. I will never let you go back there, Jimin.”
He sobs into your shoulder, gripping tightly at your t-shirt. His tail wraps around you, and you stroke his head.
“Shh, I’ve got you. You’re here, you’re home. It’s okay, you’re safe. I promise,” you whisper. After a long time, Jimin grounds himself and he pulls back to see you, worry filling your eyes and tears at the brim of them.
“Y/N,” he mumbles, diving right back into your arms. You only rub his back in soothing motions.
That was the first night ever that he had asked you to stay in his room.
-
The next morning while you’re making a delicious breakfast for the both of you, he stalks into the kitchen. You hum a little at his presence, asking him if he is okay. He hums in agreement and stares at you. You, already used to him just staring at you, studying your movements, continue cooking. He walks up behind you, ears pinned back, arms opening up.
He back hugs you.
You’re startled for a moment and it makes him hesitate to tighten his grip but when you don’t move away, just slightly humming as you continue to cook, he smiles, ever so slightly, tautening his hold.
“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he murmurs into your back, so quietly that you have a hard time hearing him. But you hear him. He buries his head into your back, inhaling your comforting scent. “Thank you.”
That’s when you realize that the future for the both of you would be much brighter from here on.
#bts#bts jimin#bts jimin x reader#bts jimin x male reader#bts angst#bts fanfic#bts yoongi#bts hybrid fic#bts hybrid x reader#bts x reader#bts namjoon#bts hoseok#bts hybrid x male reader#bts x male reader
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This is probably littered with mistakes but I had an idea. Rewatching 3x06, I noticed Tara had printed out multiple news articles about Maddie's abduction. This is my take on her reaction when she found that out she was a news story the first time. Set between 2x13 and 2x14:
Maddie stared out her window, down the paved walkway, towards the gate of her apartment compound. She startled as Buck walked up next to her.
"You ready?" He asked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She took a deep breath. "Let's get this over with."
He led her to the front door, and they went outside. It was her first time stepping onto the door mat since she came home from the hospital a week ago. She hadn't been able to bear to leave and building before today. All she saw when she looked outside was Chimney, lying in a pool of his own blood, as it slowly seeped into the brick. Buck told her Bobby and Athena spent hours out there trying to get it out, but it was still faintly there. Or maybe she just couldn't unsee it.
Either way, it didnt make her want to leave. Not yet anyway. But her therapist urged her to. You can't live inside Maddie. You're free, for the first time in sixteen years. It's time you start living. So here she was, going outside, but only because she had her brother there. Her brother who would always protect her. Her brother who found her, before she could bleed out into the snow, and had basically been glued to her since she came home.
Buck pulled her in closer as they walked past the spot, and Maddie averted her eyes, trying her hardest to not see her sweet Howie lying there, bouquet of flowers in hand. Buck reached out and unlatched the gate, holding it open for her. She stepped through, with Buck quick to follow. And that's when she immediately regretted her decision to listen to her therapist.
"Maddie!" She froze, staring at the ground. She felt Buck's arms wrap around her. He had found her. That had to be it. He was dead. He was on the other side of country, in Hershey City Cemetery by now.
"Maddie, do you have any comment on your recent abduction experience?" She froze, realizing exactly who this man be. A reporter. They know. They were waiting. For her.
"Get out of here. Who gave you the right to lurk out here?" Buck started yelling back at the man, as Maddie tried to folder herself into Buck's chest, hiding her still slightly bruised face. She was just trying to walk around the block. Just one block. She felt as though she couldn't move though, as her breaths became harder to take, and they began to burn as she inhaled. If Buck wasn't holding her up right now, she felt as though she surely would have collapsed into the fetal position on the side walk.
"I'm with Channel-"
"I don't give a fuck what channel you're with. Get the hell out of here before I call the cops!" Maddie could feel the anger vibrating through Buck as she curled into his chest, gripping onto the lapels of his jacket. She heard a car door slam, and an engine start. She immediately felt Buck's hand combing through her hair as he wrapped his other arm tight around her. "It's okay, it's okay, he's gone. You're safe."
Take- me- back in" she sobbed as she leant against him. He guided her back through the gate. Neither of them had even made it far enough for the gate to shut behind them properly. As soon as it shut again and the world was stick on the other side, Buck picked her up, and carried her up the path to her apartment, Maddie far too lost in her panic to stumble back up herself.
Once inside, Buck sat them down on the couch, Maddie on his lap, still sobbing into his shirt. "Evan?" She said tentatively once she felt as she could breathe somewhat normally. "Yeah?" He replied.
"Do people know?" She asked, as she pulled back to look him in the eyes. She needed to know if he was lying and he had always been terrible at making his face when he did, especially her.
Buck let out a big sigh and rubbed his face with his free hand. "It's been picked up by most local news outlets, because of the statewide abduction alert. There's a few online stories, but they don't know much, since no one has spoken to them."
"I'm not- I can't- I dont-" Maddie felt her breathing begin to shallow out again at the thought of people reading about her, and Doug. Her secret that she had tried to hide for so many years was just out there, for people to read as they drank their morning coffee, and for people to judge. They couldn't know, they would never know what it was like for her. She looked back at Buck, trying to calm herself before she could hyperventilate again. He was avoiding her eye contact. She narrowed her gaze and she dropped her head to make eye contact with him. "What are you not telling me?"
"Dateline called" Maddie stood up and immediately regretted it, the motion pulling at her stitched still embedded in her abdomen and leg. Back scrambled up to meet her, putting his hands on her shoulders before he continued. "Athena was with me though when I got the call and she grabbed the phone and told the producer that if they ran the story they would have no cooperation from the LAPD. They haven't called back." Maddie nodded, biting her lip as she willed more tears not to fall. God, national TV, that was all she needed. A permanent public reminder of Doug lurking the reruns for years to come.
Thank you Buck, for telling me." She shrugged off his hands and made her way to the stairs. "Look my stomach is really sore, we can try to go round the block tomorrow?" she asked as she made her way up the stairs, not even looking back for his response, having had enough of the world even though it was only 2pm.
Buck watched her retreating figure. Two steps forward today, and one giant leap back, he thought.
#maddie buckley#evan 'buck' buckley#tv: 911#911 on fox#buckley siblings#fic#please be nice I'm new to this!#i just have a lot of ideas i need to get out!
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Ateez: Mafia! First Kiss
In NO WAY am I saying the MAFIA or ANY ILLEGAL activites IS OKAY, this is just for pure entertainment. Thank you.
(English is not my first language please understand, I do speak fluent English, but sometimes we make mistakes.)
Hongjoong:
Hongjoong took your hand in his as you two walked back home, your eyes never left the sight of you and his hands together. You smiled to yourself as a sudden explosion blasted over the city, to your amazement there were fireworks.
Your free hand went to your mouth in amazement and Hongjoong looked over at you his eyes a deep brown as he felt the love between you two ignite bigger than anyother time.
It was true that you two had been best friends since pre-school, and the chemistry between you two was stronger than anything the two of you had ever felt. As you and him stared into the sunset, his eyes locked onto yours.
The two of you didn't say a word as he pulled you closer and kissed you softly. Your hands soon wrapped in his soft blue hair as you got lost in his kiss. You both knew what this meant, and it was about time.
"I love you." Hongjoong stated breathlessly, and you smiled wide. "About time you said that."
You two burst out into laughter.
"You're not going to say it back?" He pouted, but you took his face in your hands. "I love you, even though you do dangerous activities, it will all work out."
Seonghwa:
Seonghwa stood tall as he looked over at his boss' daughter, she seemed unafraid of anyone. However, Seonghwa knew her real nature. He had trained with her when everyone had fallen asleep. It was all too good to be true, he had thought.
The boss had dismissed the group, but he had stayed back with her. Y/n stood with a large stick and threw him one. He caught it with one swift movement and smirked.
"Still think you're going to win?" She smirked, standing in her position. Seonghwa chuckled, "I have won twice." He stated, looking into her (E/c) eyes.
She flung her hair over her shoulder, as she ran towards him. He ducked and tried to swipe her feet out from under her, it worked and she slipped, however she pulled him down with her.
Seonghwa smirked, as the two looked up at each other, he held her in his arms as she leaned in and kissed him passionately.
The kiss soon turned heated, however Y/N had not finished with the training session, so she pulled away and threw him on the ground and had him pinned.
"Don't get too distracted." She smirked down at him who chuckled, but pulled her back into his lips.
"Maybe tell your father not to set you up with anyone, because you're all mine." He whispered against your lips as he pressed you into the mat.
Yunho:
You stared at him, your eyes looking at his god like face. There was no way a man this handsome had made it into your father's academy. However, this one seemed to have made it just fine.
Your father had purposefully got rid of the handsome men due to his over protectiveness, however this man had stayed.
It came as a shock to Yunho as well as everyone around him said he was dead meat.
"No handsome man like yourself has passed, there is no way you will finish this." A tall man said his eyes on you as you looked around at the men.
*A few weeks later*
Yunho was strolling through the boss' house, he was supposed to be at the shooting range at this time, but the boss had changed his schedule.
You and Yunho had gotten somewhat close, not because he was handsome but because of his nice and caring personality. You had no idea why he wanted to join your father's mafia. It made no sense to you. He was too loving and social to kill anyone.
You picked at your finger nails as Yunho knocked on your door. Wasting no time, you opened the door to find a darkly dressed Yunho.
His eyes scanned yours, and in less than a second you had your lips attached to his, half expecting him to push you away you pulled away softly. However, he pulled you pack in a continued kissing you.
Your back hit the wall, as you realized how steamy the kiss was becoming. You gave up the resisting as you let him take you all the way.
Yeosang:
Yeosang studied your face hard as you sat next to him, your eyes focused on the laptop in-front of you. Your job was to research the various enemies your mafia had, and so far you found tons of research.
Yeosang cupped your face in his hands as you turned to face him. He smirked as your cheeks flushed bright red, you looked away and back on the computer.
"This isn't the time for one of your jokes." You reply clicking away.
However, his gripped your hand in his and kissed it lightly. Your eyes widened as you looked over at your partner, his eyes locked on yours.
"What are you doing Yeosang?" You asked, your face even more flushed as he placed his lips on yours, the sudden urge to pull him closer took over as your bodies melted together.
You finally realized what it felt like to be in love, as Yeosang kissed you tenderly. His hands moved down your body, and he waited for you to speak.
"I love you." Was all you could let out as he chuckled.
"I love you too." He stated, going in for another kiss.
San:
You were so done with San and his attitude, even though he was your boss. Everyone feared him, however you weren't afraid of him at all. Mafia or not, you couldn't stand it.
You walked to him as he smirked, his eyes glued to you as you pushed innocent people out the way.
He liked when you got angry, he loved it when he pushed your buttons. When you bit your lip in annoyance made him fall even more in love with you. He loved the little tilt you did when he said something offensive.
It was just something about you being angry he loved.
As you got closer to him, he expected a slap on the face, but instead he felt your soft lips on his. He stood there eyes widened as you pulled away.
"I've gotten tired of your annoying little-"
He pulled you back in, kissing you passionately as you didn't expect this would be his reaction. You would thought he would get grossed out and leave you alone, but instead this is what had happened.
You didn't know a kiss could be this perfect.
He pulled away with a smile on his face. "Now, you're shocked? You started this first." He stated, biting his lip.
"But that was to disgust you so you would leave me alone." You answered honestly.
He smirked once again. "Now it's going to take a-lot to disgust me." He replied slyly kissing you once again, however you let him do it this time.
His lips felt soft and comfortable, and you didn't want to admit it, but you did have a thing for him..
"I love kissing you." He said in-between kisses, not letting you breathe as the kisses kept coming and coming.
Mingi:
All these years, you and Mingi were the best of friends. However, he was a mafia member from your dad's group and he could get angry and dangerous out of no where.
However, that did not make you want to stop being his friend. He adored you and you adored him.
However, that feeling was becoming more and more confusing. The cuddles would always end up getting more meaningful and the jokes would become more sexual.
You didn't know what was happening.
Mingi sat on the couch, his arms on both sides of the sofa as you made you way into one of them. His eyes seemed to change once he saw your outfit. You wore a small leather skirt, revealing your upper thigh, and your shirt was just a plain red tanktop, nothing too fancy.
However, Mingi couldn't stop staring at you. He even bit his lip a couple of times trying to hide his turned on face, but you noticed right away.
"Mingi, I can change if you need me too. I mean, I look ug-" He pressed his lips to yours so you didn't say ugly. He hated when you called yourself that.
However, he needed this kiss. And by the looks of it, you needed it to. Your hands soon tugged at his hair as he pushed you down into the sofa. He lifted your shirt over your head as he watched you.
"Don't you dare say you are ugly. You are beautiful to me, and that's what matters."
Wooyoung:
Wooyoung had been teasing you all day about how your shooting sucked. He sucked on his sucker as you shot once again, this time heated by his annoying remarks. And this time you hit the target, and you bragged and boasted to Wooyoung.
He stared in complete shock as you grabbed his sucker from his mouth and put it in yours. He took note of how sexy you looked sucking on it as your hair stuck to your face from sweat. In no hesitation he kissed you deeply.
You didn't have time to react, however, you didn't want it to stop. When he did pull away, you pulled him back in by his tie. He smirked at your small action and smiled as you kissed him once again.
You two were in your own land as the sounds of other guns were being fired. Just a regular Mafia romance, nothing more.. (tehee.)
Jongho:
"I fucking hate this!" You yelled slumping in your chair, your eyes stained with tears.
"You don't give a fuck about me! Just admit it Jongho! We've been best friends since 3rd grade, but then you go an join the mafia!"
You are fully crying now, as your best friend tries to calm you down, but it isn't working.
"Listen to me, y/n." He stated.
"NO! YOU DON'T GIVE TWO FUCKS ABOUT ME! YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT YOU-'
You were silenced as Jongho kissed you. He took your face in his hands and kissed you hard. As he pulled away he wiped away your tears.
"Don't ever say that again. I am in fucking love with you." He stated, as you stared at him wide eyed.
In an instant you kissed him back, both of you in tears as you took your frustration on eachother's lips.
The pain, the moment and the undying love made the kissing session ten times more powerful than any other kiss.
#jongho#hongjoong#wooyoung#seonghwa#mingi#yeosang#ateez san#yunho#ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez mafia au#ateez fanfic
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Shut Up
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Platonic!?Reader
Summary: Exams at the SHIELD academy are coming up and with that members of the Avengers have come to observe the next potential heroes. Some are more promising than others.
Requested by @idk123906
Word Count: 2k
A/N: it should be known my life is basically just uni and My Hero Academia at the moment so writing about someone with powers I was like finally my time has come even though I literally write for Marvel but yea i don’t know what happened here but enjoy
What should I have for dinner?
I need to work on my left hook.
This is pointless, I know all of this already.
I shouldn’t be here, I should be up in the big leagues already.
Why the fuck is she staring at me?
God she’s so annoying.
Her combat skills are awful. She’s going to lose.
You stood at the edge of the mat, your fists by your side and your knees bent ready to leap forward if need be.
I’m going to destroy her.
Your opponent stared back at you from the otherside of the mat. He smirked, almost as if he was looking forward to the fight even though it was nearing the end of the training, this had to be at least his fifth sparring match, it was your sixth and final one.
“You’re going down,” he growled.
This will be a short one.
Your shoulders laxed for a moment at the voice. Not because it relaxed you, but because it was the nail in the coffin. Having the voice of the Black Widow in your head telling you she knows you’ll lose is never very motivating.
It was the second to last week of training at the new SHIELD academy and there was so much tension in the air that it could be cut with a knife. Exams were the end of next week and nobody knew what the practical was going to be like.
There were no friends left, sure the cliques still moved in groups together, but once they stepped onto the mats it was you vs them no matter who you versed.
The final week also meant that sessions were being supervised by the best of the best. Natasha Romanoff a.k.a Black Widow had been present every day so far, today Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson were all present along with her.
They’d be here all day, watching, observing, even taking notes every now and then. And you had to spend the entire day listening to what they really thought about your fellow classmates as well as yourself. All thanks to your own powers of telepathy. You blocked it out mainly, or tried to at least, wearing headphones or focusing your mind on specific sounds and voices. Sometimes it wasn’t easy to ignore and sometimes it was tactical to hear what people were thinking around you.
Right hook
You dodged the attack as your feet moved swiftly to the side and you ducked under his swing. He always planned his moves in his head.
What the fuck?! Playing hard to get huh bet she can’t do it twice.
You couldn’t, he swung his leg and kicked you square in the back as you tried to regain your footing.
She needs to work on her spacial awareness.
A new voice, one you had heard plenty of today. Your gaze peered to the Avengers standing to the side as you turned to your opponent. Natasha was shaking her head as she typed on her tablet. Bucky looked like he’d taken the hit himself as he cringed “rookie mistake”. Sam appeared unfazed. Steve Rogers, his stare was directly on you and it was obvious it was you he was thinking about. So you decided to take his advice.
Looking at the space around you you noticed that even though your opponent had the brute force and his combat far outclassed yours he’d made a mistake. In charging towards you he’d put himself at the edge of the ring. You had space all around you to move and dodge, if you kept him against the outer rim you may have a shot.
So you moved, you stepped around and he followed your movement to try and read your attack. You kept him at the outer rim.
But he lunged again and then you were scuffling on the ground trying to get him off of you. He out-skilled you, he was stronger and bigger and you didn’t have a chance.
How’d she get into this program?
You huffed and continued to try and kick him off as you heard Steve’s voice again. A scream and a punch but he’d already swung you out of the ring. You lost. Again.
She’s not going to make it. - Steve
She’ll never survive. - Bucky
Disappointing really, with that power. - Sam
I wouldn’t want her on my team. - Natasha
You pulled yourself up from the floor, your blood boiling as you cursed yourself and stormed towards your bag, your sessions were done you didn’t exactly feel like sticking around for the last of them to be done.
“Hey!” The deep voice called after you and your steps stopped as the Steve Rogers came to stand before you in all his glory. “I just wanted to tell you good try out there, you’re not always going to win them but you can learn from them. If you wanted I have some pointers that might help you?”
You need it.
“Thank you, I appreciate it but I think I’ve got this, I’m fine really,” you answered and tried to step around him but he was just so massive it was hard to avoid hitting his shoulder on the way past.
Won’t even take help when she obviously needs it
There was three hours until the final exam now. You’d trained every day, into the early hours in the morning in the gym to late night runs around the facility. None of it felt enough when you couldn’t even get out the voices of your peers and teachers saying how you were never going to make it; that you weren’t good enough. Captain America had made an appearance at every session since the first day and his voice was the loudest.
She needs to work on her agility
So you trained your agility that night to prove him wrong.
Her hits are weak
So you went through three punching bags over one night to perfect them.
Your body was exhausted, your mind was empty after the written exam the day before. The final exam was before you and finally it had been revealed what you would be doing, a fight, one fight, one sparring session, verses the Avengers best hand to hand combat members.
Clint Barton. Natasha Romanoff. Steve Rogers. Sam Wilson. Bucky Barnes. Three students to each and you were peered with none other than Steve. Even worse, you were his last one.
Because Steve and Bucky were enhanced they would be wearing restraints that lessened their strength against their opponents. There was a pattern for who they were paired with. Clint was peered with those that were highest in agility skills. Natasha worked with the top three students. Bucky was with the ones who had explosive or dangerous mutated powers. Sam was with the ones who preferred the long tactical fights. Steve was classed with the ones who had strength mutated powers...except you, you should have been with Clint or Sam but you were peered with Steve and you had no idea why.
You’d avoided all of the heroes for the past week, the closer they got the louder their voice was and you couldn’t deal with the hit to your mental state or motivation at a time like this. There as no avoiding them now though.
Saving the easiest for last, he’s getting lazy. - Bucky
I can’t believe I have to stick around for this, it’ll be over by the time I reach the door. - Sam
I wonder if she uses it during combat? - Steve
You tilted your head at him but shook it off. It was well known what all of your powers were. It was also known how difficult it was to use telepathic powers in combat, you weren’t like Scarlett Witch, you couldn’t get inside someone’s head you could only hear their voices and even then if their guard was up sometimes it was hard.
Shake hands. Step back. The bell rings and Steve doesn’t attack.
I haven’t seen her hit first.
He wants you to?
Don’t drag this out for the fun of it you idiot. - Natasha.
That was it. Your blood boiled and your anger took over. You charged for Steve but he dodged you easily until you were leaping onto his bent leg to hoist yourself over his shoulders and to his other side, an elbow between his shoulder blades to send him away from you.
Why doesn’t she do that in training?
“Because no one here has the same stance as you do.” You bite back at him and he loses his focus for a second, just enough for you to send a kick his way but not long enough for him not to catch your leg afterwards.
“So you do use your power during combat then,” he smiled. God just get it over with, if you didn’t want this job so fucking bad you’d let him beat you immediately but you had to prove yourself. You had to prove your worth to him, to the rest of the Avengers and to all your classmates that actually you did deserve to be here. You had every right to be here just like everyone else.
The two of you went back and forth for what felt like hours but was only a couple minutes, even with the restraints Steve still hit hard. He didn’t give you an opening, not one that you could find, he was too quick, at this point you were just running out the clock...too bad there’s no timer.
Can you communicate back?
You shook your head, to answer his question and it gave you time to try and catch your breath.
You really want this? You’ve improved a lot this past week.
Your scowl was ever prominent on your face as his comment reminded you of every fucking, you landed a punch, comment, then a kick to his left side that was left open, that came from him and his friends.
Do you only hear your opponents thoughts?
“No.” Steve stood straight, he was sweating, you were both covered in it, your breathing heaving and your voice ice cold towards him.
What the fuck is going on? - Bucky
They didn’t know what you were saying but you kept talking to him and he wasn’t saying a word, they must have guessed you were using your power but this was an exam for christ’s sake you’re meant to be fighting.
“I hear them all, I don’t often have a choice in it,” you told him, you were so close to being done, you didn’t think your body could take it much longer, one more hit and you would be down for the count.
I’m sorry. I’ve been underestimating you this entire time.
Your eyes blurred. You used to look up to the Captain, you used to want to work alongside him, to follow in his footsteps but you weren’t so sure anymore. He and his friends took one look at you and decided you weren’t cut out for it. You let out a laugh as you and Steve went back to throwing attacks and attempting to dodge one another. This is how villains are made, this is why they say never meet their heroes.
You can’t go much longer.
You gritted your teeth. FUCK OFF you wanted to yell at him. You were the one with telepathic powers but he was the one reading you.
You’ve already passed you know.
“It’s not about passing anymore though.” He quirked an eyebrow as you leaped behind him and caught him in an arm bar. “I deserve to be here.” He didn’t answer you, somehow through pushing and pulling he got out and in the process you were thrown out of bounds. You punched at the ground and groaned, as long as you walk out of this room on your own accord that was okay, then you can go straight to the nurse and pass the fuck out.
“You do. But you’re not ready to be out there yet.”
Part Two: Vigilante
thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed it!
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