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confessedlyfannish · 7 months

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DP x DC Writing Prompt #5

Damian does not glance back at Bruce when he knocks on the door. Instead they both wait in silence.

After a moment, the door opens.

"Hello," Jasmine, Jazz, Fenton greets politely, unsurprised to find the Waynes on her doorstep. Damian's expression grows ever darker at this revelation.

"Hello Ms. Fenton, are your parents home?" Bruce asks, placing a firm hand on Damian's shoulder, to ground as much as to restrain. To his credit he does not shake it off.

"No, they're out of town for a conference," the eighteen year-old says, opening the door wider. "But I think you'd better come in."

Bruce would normally decline, but Ms. Fenton is a legal adult and he has already, even unknowingly, waited 16 years. Damian makes the choice for him, striding past the threshold.

"Please take a seat," Jazz says as she leads them to the living room. She ignores Damian's swinging head as he takes in the home. It is deceptively large, a 90s style house filled with modern furniture. The walls are bright, with purple and green accents that would normally feel garish but somehow work. The stairs leading to the second floor are lined with family photos that Bruce yearns to take a closer look at. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"

"No, that's alright, thank you," Bruce says, taking a seat on the long plush couch. A men's windbreaker lies haphazardly thrown across one of the arms. A closed container of Oreo cookies sit on the coffee table next to a physics textbook open to chapter 16, half covered in highlighter and filled with sticky notes. There's a child's painting framed next to the tv, a handprint made to look like a thanksgiving turkey in bright blue.

For the home of experimental scientists, it is cozy and well lived-in.

Damian repeatedly glances at the stairs through the doorway.

Bruce clears his throat. "We were hoping to--"

"I've texted--oh, I'm sorry," Jazz says, having spoken at the same time. Bruce gestures for her to go on.

"I've contacted Danny, he should be here soon. He was out with some friends." Jazz explains. As she hadn't pulled out a phone in their presence, Bruce can only deduce they have some sort of camera at their front door. This also explains Ms. Fenton's complete lack of surprise at their appearance.

"So you know who we are." Damian says, the first words he's spoken since they arrived at the house and the longest sentence he's spoken since they arrived in Amity Park.

"I do," Jazz says, calm in the face of Damian's clearly simmering anger. Bruce trusts him not to attack Ms. Fenton, but he still watches him carefully.

"He told you about me," Damian says. It is the same question, but it is also not.

"He did," Jazz says.

Damian swallows. "I see," he grits out.

Jazz's neutrality slips and her face softens in sympathy. "Damian," she starts hesitantly, but before she can say anything else the front door opens.

A moment later Bruce's son walks through the doorway, and Damian is on him.

This is what Bruce hoped to prevent, but despite his numerous checks of Damian's luggage his son has still managed to smuggle a small dagger, which he now produces and swings in a calculated arc at Daniel Fenton's jugular.

Danny dodges cleanly, and dodges every swipe thereafter in a manner that speaks to continued practice long after his time at the League. Damian is a perfect product of his training, but it is up against Danny his flaws come to light. He is just as good as he always was, but Danny is better.

In a matter of seconds Damian grows frustrated and sloppy in his attacks, completely atypical for him. Danny takes Damian out at the knees and pins him down with one arm, pressing his face into the carpet.

"Calm down," he orders. His voice is deeper than Damian's at sixteen to his twelve, the accent that still traces Damian's words completely gone from his speech. Damian growls and thrusts his head back into Danny's face, meeting it with a sharp thunk. He rolls up as Danny recoils, putting distance between them. Danny glares at him from several steps away, hand to his forehead. Damian tosses the dagger into his other hand as he charges, and to Bruce's surprise Danny does nothing more than turn his face to the side, allowing Damian to draw a sharp line down his cheek.

Damian stops dead in his tracks.

"Are you done?" Danny asks, blood beginning to pool at the seam of the cut.

Damian's expression is stricken, eyes stuck on the blood starting to drip down his brother's face.

"I said, are you done, Damian?" Danny asks. His voice is cold.

Damian hears him this time, and he flushes red. "I--you--"

Danny sighs. He looks at Jazz, whose expression is back to carefully controlled.

"Are you alright?" he asks her. She nods.

"You left me," Damian accuses, standing there holding his bloody dagger limply.

Danny turns back to him, raising an eyebrow.

"You left me," Damian repeats louder, rapidly blinking.

"Yes. I did." Danny provides no excuse nor any explanation. His stance is unyielding.

Damian's eyes bounce wildly, shifting to Jazz and Danny slides smoothly in front of her, protectively. He looks at Damian warily, not as if he is his brother, but as if he is a danger. Damian flinches.

Hope is the last to die, Bruce thinks, watching as that last bit of hope Damian had is extinguished, the knowledge working its way through every inch of his body like ice in his veins. His eyes darken. He turns and runs from the room, the front door slamming shut not a moment later.

Jazz stands up, pulling a few tissues from the box on the coffee table. She presses them to Danny's face, cupping his cheek until he holds it himself. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit," she says gently. It is a thinly veiled excuse to leave them alone, and Bruce is grateful for it as she heads for the stairs.

They both wait until her footsteps have faded, taking each other in. Bruce looks at his mother's eyes and the sharp turn of Talia's nose. Damian's everything, four years older.

"You shouldn't have come here," Danny says, throwing himself on the armchair Jazz has just vacated.

"You know who I am," Bruce says carefully.

Danny glares. "I've kept your secret. She nor my parents know."

"I know," Bruce says. "That's not what I meant. You know who I am. And who I pretend to be. So you know I am familiar with masks."

"And?" Danny asks, looking vaguely bored.

"And so I can recognize when someone is wearing one. Damian will too, once he's calmed down."

Danny's expression sharpens. "No, he won't. Because you are going to go to back to whatever bed and breakfast you're staying in, pack up, hop in your private jet and fly him back to Gotham immediately before the League realizes you've gone. If they haven't already," he mutters.

"This is about the League then," Bruce says. "Do you not believe I can protect you?"

"I don't need your protection," Danny snaps, and watches Bruce actively extrapolate with a dawning resignation. "So this is the World's Greatest Detective at work," he says, slumping bonelessly into his chair, the first teenager-y thing he's done.

"Damian's in danger from the League," Bruce says. Danny glares from his slump. It's almost cute. "And as long as the League doesn't know about you, he's safe."

"Draw your own conclusions," Danny says, baring his teeth. Damian often makes the same face. "As long as you leave."

"I can protect him. I can protect you both," Bruce says. "Let me help you."

Danny closes his eyes. He centers his breathing in an exercise someone has clearly walked him through in the past. Bruce would bet money on the adoptive sister waiting patiently upstairs.

"Mr. Wayne. You are not my father," he says. "My trust in you extends to the point that I left Damian in your care, but that is where it ends. And that was when it was sanctioned by the League. By coming here you have endangered those sanctions."

Bruce disregards the sting, doubling down on his analysis. Talia had left Damian with Bruce well after Danny had left the League. But Danny speaks as if the decision had been his.

Or perhaps, Bruce realizes, it is not that Danny decided upon it, but that Danny allowed it to continue.

Bruce takes a second to review what Oracle had gone over with him before they left for Amity. Daniel Fenton had by all accounts, since leaving the League, lived a fairly normal life. His adoptive parents were eccentric scientists dabbling in the occult but their findings that bordered pseudoscience circulated a very niche community of like-minded eccentrics. The bulk of their income came from alternative energy, a more viable source of study that they'd veered harder into in the past year or so, a government contract with the EPA currently in the works. This had in part funded a vacation to an all-inclusive resort the family had taken that past summer.

Danny received average grades in school, above average in science and mathematics, declining sharply in his freshman year and sophomore year before evening out around the second semester. He had gotten into fights repeatedly with one student in particular, suspended for two weeks following an incident that resulted in a the student receiving a black eye. Teachers reported him to be highly intelligent but distracted and removed. They had recommended he be evaluated for an attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. He had no social media. He had missed multiple picture days. The ones he had attended he was sneezing, or a blur of movement, even going so far as to fall off his stool, legs flailing. Bruce had drank up every last one as Barbara had waited patiently.

A normal life. A family vacation to Bermuda. Average grades.

His freshman year, distracted and removed. The same year Damian had arrived at Bruce's home. Masks upon masks.

"You have informants within the League," Bruce says. Danny, to his credit, has no discernible tell. But there is no other explanation. "What will you do, if they find out you are alive?"

"That is none of your concern," Danny says, but he might as well be saying whatever I have to.

He never stopped practicing, after all.

"If they go after Damian, it is my concern."

"And that is why you need to take Damian back to Gotham before they do." Danny says. "I will take care of it."

Damian had barely spoken since he had realized Danyal was alive. But Bruce had seen the reverence in his eyes as he looked at the file.

"الوريث الصحيح" he had murmured. The rightful heir.

"You are proposing going after the entirety of the League with no backup," Bruce says. "Even if you think they won't kill you, you won't win either."

"Maybe they will," Danny says lightly. "Kill me. That would also work."

Bruce inhales sharply. "Danny," he starts.

"Go home, Mr. Wayne," Danny says, pushing himself up with one hand. The other still clutches the wad of tissue to his cheek, partially soaked with blood. "Go take care of your son."

"I'll go," Bruce says, "I'll take him to the Watchtower. And then I'll come back."

"Mr. Wayne-"

"I should've come for you," Bruce interrupts. "Sixteen years ago. I should've come for you."

Danny's brow furrows. "You had no idea I existed."

"But if I had. I would've come. I never would've left you there. And now that I know, I am not leaving you now."

For the first time Bruce watches Danny be completely caught off guard. He openly gapes at Bruce.

"You would've died," Danny lands on, voice thin. "They would've killed you."

"Unlike you, I would've brought backup." Bruce says, mimicking Danny's lightness.

He's lying. Sixteen years ago he would've thrown himself at the League to save his newborn son without a plan, without a thought beyond rescuing his baby.

Danny barks out a laugh. "You would've laid siege to Nanda Parbat with The Big Blue Boy Scout?" he looks wistful. "That would've been rad."

Bruce sees his opening. "Danny," he stands, eye to eye with his son. "Let me help you."

Danny evaluates him. "The Batman," he says softly. "I didn't want you to come, then. I didn't need one more person I had to prove myself to. All I wanted was to live amongst the stars, in the quiet of the cosmos."

"You want to be an astronaut," Bruce says. At Danny's cocked head, he says without shame, "I read your essay on personal heroes. You wrote about Edward White. Ad Astra Per Aspera."

Danny smiles slightly, sadly. "It is a rough road."

"You can be whatever you want to be," Bruce says. "I won't stand in your way."

"Even if I want to be Danny Fenton?" he asks.

"Even then."

Danny sighs. "I don't need your help Bruce," he says. "No," he says as Bruce opens his mouth. He pulls the wad of tissues away from his cheek. Underneath the splotches of dried blood the gash in his face has cleanly knit itself together, a faint white line now all that remains.

"I don't need your help," he says clearly. He holds a palm forward, and a green fire grows from its center, until the flames are licking delicately up his fingers.

"I know The Batman does not kill. But I am not a Robin. I am something else entirely," Danny says, his eyes reflecting the green of the flames. Or not, as he looks up at Bruce, his eyes green all on their own. They are sad. This is why he stayed away, Bruce realizes. Not out of fear. Danny is not afraid. Danny is tired.

But for his brother, Danny will wake up.

"And If the League takes one step towards Damian, I will raze them to the ground."

#Danny I AM RETIRED FROM MURDER Fenton #the informants are ghosts #the thing about deductive reasoning is sometimes you deduct incorrectly #particularly when you don't know about the ghosts #danyal al ghul #damian wayne #danny phantom #batman #dp x dc au #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #bruce wayne #this is an au where damian doesn't get blown up and lose most of his vital organs #like bruce still isn't a super responsible parent but no nine year olds blow up so that's something #danny: he only blew up once so he can stay with you #batman: he did get speared straight through but we fixed it #danny: he wHAT #i wrote this instead of eating dinner #because drafts are for the mentally healthy #tbh i don't think his name would be danyal al ghul in this one #he's trying really hard to stay under the radar I don't think he would choose essentially a homonym

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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months

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Cleaning services (perv!Konig x fem!cleaner!Reader)

Konig needs help in decluttering and cleaning his house. Unfortunately for you, he takes quite a huge liking in having pretty things like you around. And he isn't very nice about it.

TW: Perverted Konig, age gap, Konig masturbates at you without consent, implied kidnapping, yandere Word count: 3754 This work on AO3

There is no shame in having a professional cleaner, König tries to tell himself.

Yes, he is a grown man with a very dangerous job that requires having a lot of responsibility. He holds the lives of his soldiers in his hands and risks his life every day not for the sake of his country, but certainly for the sake of his wallet and the reputation of KorTac.

Hiring a professional cleaner for his house shouldn’t make him feel humiliated and embarrassed, and he knows it. Cleaners are basically like soldiers – doing stuff that other people can’t for a certain amount of money, providing services for the clients who can afford it. Besides, it’s a support of his local community – after everything he took from the people around his town, it’s only natural that he would support this growing business of cleaning services.

There is no shame in having some nice old lady cleaning his house and watching over it while he is too busy trying not to kill himself or drown his head in liquor after a particularly rough mission. When you lose two guys on a run that was supposed to be the quickest task possible when you’re returning home with an injury that isn’t really that serious but brings your whole mental state into a very dark place, and when you’re forced to take 3 weeks of leave in the place you hate, hiring a cleaner to take care of everything really shouldn’t make him so ashamed of himself.

Even if he can clean his space – the house is just too big for only one of him, and his ribs still have this funny feeling of fantom bullets traveling around his guts. So, he dials up the number of the cleaning services because he is too fucking old to understand their weird website and messenger ordering, even though speaking with a human operator on the other half of the line is somewhat more humiliating that having no idea of how to use a modern interface.

There is no shame in asking for help, his therapist is trying to shrill it in his head all of the time and yet he is still hesitant when the cleaning professional is knocking on his door, finding this place surprisingly fast. König braces himself, thinking about all the ways he could avoid having a conversation – he drew a quick map of the place, put down the room cleaner shouldn’t be entering – his gun safe, mostly, already repeated in his head how he would greet them and swiftly extract himself from the situation.��

“Guten Tag, please, come in. This is the map of the place, don’t go to the red door on the right, don’t hesitate to ask questions, I will be on the second floor.” He takes a few wide, swift steps to his door and stops. Thinks again, overthinking, thinking too fucking much about everything, anxiously checking on his phone to read the message that yes, his cleaner is here and he should probably open the door or they would burst down the window. “Guten Tag, come in. Map of the place is here, don’t go to the red door to the right, please hesitate to ask questions, I will be somewhere around the house, lurking in the shadows” He braces himself to open the door, ready to see that sweet old lady who would spend the next 8 hours cleaning his house and then turn back another day to rinse and repeat until his house stopped looking like a place where a very, very miserable man lives. (Even if this is true)

But, there isn’t a nice old lady with a bunch of cleaning supplies and determination to make someone’s life easier.

But, there isn’t a cold middle-aged woman with a very professional no-nonsense attitude who wouldn’t even talk to him before going straight to work.

But, there is a young girl. Well, not a girl, of course, if he had to guess you were somewhere around the “Too fucking young, but definitely legal” spectrum. Young enough to not be alive when he was already going to school, young enough to make him sweat, and definitely not old enough to be accepting a job where you’d have to spend so much of your life cleaning and scrubbing and sorting and…

There isn’t anything shameful in ordering a cleaning service when you genuinely need it, but you’re young and you’re pretty and he isn’t even wearing a mask because he is an old dumbass that forgot about it, and you look at him with your shiny eyes and…

Maybe, he should clean on his own – would definitely be less shameful.

— Sir? H…hello? Good morning? Can you hear me?

Yes, he can hear you.

Yes, he would love to hear you every single day of his life, when he wakes up and when he falls asleep.

— Ja. I apologize, I…thought it was mail.

It’s a dumb excuse, but he can’t really say that he was just too fucking mesmerized by your shiny eyes and perfect hair and nice figure and basically everything about you. He has this nasty habit of imagining a future with people around him – with people who just fucking want to be left alone, and yet he still stares and looks and it’s probably ultra uncomfortable for them – but he can’t help imagining the life with every cute lady in the grocery shop or elegant lady sitting next to him on a train.

He has a pattern – people who are not interested in him in the slightest. He has a pattern, a preference, cute girls, smart girls, popular ladies that were never even so much as looking in his direction. He could probably score someone now, having a colonel’s salary and honorably discharged payments, but he gave up on trying to find anyone. He has friends, company, has work where he spent most of his life anyway – he doesn’t need anyone, he wants to think.

Then you waddle into his life with a bunch of cleaning supplies and a small vacuum, barely able to handle everything in your hands. He rushes to help and envelops your hands with his – you are so much smaller in comparison, he has bear-like arms and horribly big everything. he feels awkward when he gently removes everything from your arms – when he tries to help by simply putting everything on the table of the next room.

König hated this house – it was big, it was empty, and the only reason he didn’t sell it was because Mother’s things were still locked in her old bedroom and every time he tried to clean it and evaluate the cost of the house, he decided that he will Do It Other Day. Coincidentally, all of those days were also followed by three-month minimum missions, making him utterly unable to do everything about this place anyway.

This is why you’re here – a hired cleaner, a sorter, you promised to de-hoard everything and see if there is anything of value. Perfect for someone like him, especially since he is paying you double for spending the whole day and a few days more in his house exclusively.

Now, he looks at how awkward your smile is, how you fidget with the edge of the broom you brought, and how you can’t even start a conversation because he is simply staring at you, staying in the living room of this dead, almost abandoned house. Now, he looks at how cute you are, how perfect, and remembers that he didn’t score with anyone in half a year already – not even in terms of sex, the casual flirting was also forbidden since half of his unit was transferred and the new people weren’t really fun of his tough methods of breaking rookies in.

When was the last time someone genuinely smiled at him?

Ah, he is staring again. Scheisse.

— Where do you want me to start, sir?

He wonders how much he should pay you to clean him instead. Would you be gentle? Rough? Would you call him a pervert, which he is, and then slap him and yell at him for being such a horrible old dog who is ready to pounce at every pretty girl in his presence? He would do anything that would set his mind free of the thought about Mom. Her bedroom. This whole house that he can’t call home ever since he turned 6 and understood why Father was always so, so angry.

— The living room. If it’s not too much.

He barely stops himself from talking more – you look weird, you loom surprised, you look at him like he is fucking stupid and, in fact, he is. Of course, it wouldn’t be too hard for you, you’re his clean, for fucks sake. You come here to clean, you get good money for it, he shouldn’t feel guilty for using your services because, in some way, he actually provides you with a job and a cute thing like you shouldn’t go to other houses, with old perverts that can do unspeakable things with the adorable worker.

Ah, yes, perverts like him. God, he is hopeless.

— Alright. Do you want to note something, like if there is anything I shouldn’t touch?

He would allow you to take your adorable, yellow glow-wearing hands to get into his personal savings and all of his bank accounts, if you’d want to. He curses under his breath, hating how professional you are – hard worker, perfect, simply a fantastic person who deserves more than working for him. You aren’t trying to shy away from the job and he almost resents you for it.

You’d make a good soldier, he thinks – you’re able to hear the orders and oblige to them, you’re obedient and came even before the discussed time. You’d make such a perfect private for his unit, he observes.

Ah, right, he was supposed to answer you. Shit.

— No. Just don’t go to the second room on the left.

— Alright. Anything else?

He grumbles under his breath, trying to get into the right headspace to deal with someone like you. König knows it’s rude, to just ignore and leave you like this – but if he were to stay in he same room as you, he would do something horrible, disgusting, and completely dishonorable to you. So, he leaves – escapes – to his office. Father’s office, mostly, the only thing here that belongs to him are some documents and useless papers – and a laptop that he drags to every other room anyway.

He doesn’t like this room, it reminds him of the worst episodes of his early childhood – yet, this is his only reserve. He doesn’t want to leave the house because the territory is secluded and if something were to happen to you, he would be the only one able to help. He also doesn’t want to leave his gun collection with you – he doesn’t want you to find it and freak out or hurt yourself.

This is what he tells himself, at least. He wants to be there with you, in the same room preferably, but horrible for his anxiety, because he wants this illusion, phantasm of having a loving relationship. Of having a woman in his life, a lovely housewife who would cook for him, clean for him, and would be absolutely spoiled with gifts and attention. God knows he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body – but he will carve one out of his ribs for you.

And he only knew you for an hour tops.

König feels like literally the worst man alive when he spread his legs and starts stroking his hard, glistening cock. He brushes over the swollen, red tip, not allowing himself to have any lube other than spit and oozing pre-cum – he tries not to cum embarrassingly quickly, thinking about your perfect gestures and smiling face. How perfect you look in your cleaning uniform – not like maids from the occasional porn he was watching, but still beautiful. Your body is perfect even with all of those ugly layers and grey fabric – and he can’t stop thinking about the sway of your hips or glimpses of your legs under your dress.

He thinks about you, bent over his couch, trying to clean the especially dirty spot on the furniture – how the material of your dress would be tight around your ass. The image makes him grunt quietly, stroking his barely wet dick even more – the pain from the dry sensation only makes the pleasure all the sweeter. He is hard, was hard for the past 10 minutes as you were introducing yourself and whatever your deal is. He is dirty, perverted, knowing only your name and your face – and he is still stroking himself, thinking about paying you extra just so you’d get on your pretty knees and suck him. Would you be sloppy, messy, get his cum all over your face so you’d have to wash it off? Would you be experienced, eager, trying to get as much seed as possible with that pretty tongue of yours?

He is a lost cause because he hears the sounds of vacuum – you’re only a few rooms away from him, trying so hard to clean his house for him, to work through every bit of furniture and everything he acquired for the past twenty years or so – and he moans loudly, knowing that you don’t hear anything. You’re probably listening to music or some silly girl’s podcast about planets and gardens and maybe some university lectures. He’d pay for your courses, he would get you any book you want – having his salary and barely spending it made him softer in the saving habits.

He can afford to splurge on a pretty girl who just needs a rich Austrian mercenary to sweep her off her feet. But, he is old – but, he is a monster who preys on someone helpless, using her pretty face to jerk himself off, and he doesn’t even deserve your number, although he has had it since accepting the service.

His cock is big, angry red in his hand as he runs his finger over the bulging vein, teasing the sensitive flesh – always loud in bed, with grunts and moans of pleasure, he can barely contain himself now, only forcing his mouth shut when he doesn’t hear the sound of vacuum anymore. He strokes his dick fast, angry, and slams it into his fist, trying to make the pain last longer, so he won’t cum after a minute or two. He has the stamina to last longer – but it’s also the first time he was so horny since…he can’t even remember.

König thinks about putting you in his bed – like a perfect housewife, you would hug his waist with your legs, would allow him to lick and grope at your tits, and won’t scream too much when he’d force his tongue inside of your precious pussy, taking every last drop of your pleasure. He wouldn’t want to be forceful, angry, you’re too precious for this and too weak for his strength – but he can imagine slamming into you in a matting press, cumming inside and not even pulling out, warming his cock in the heat of your body.

Father would kill him for doing something so dirty in his office – but he is long dead, devil save his soul, and it’s König’s office now. Even when he barely uses it, even if he doesn’t really need this. It came in handy when he had to jerk off to the pretty cleaning girl who cleaned up after him – so, somehow, his father managed to improve his mood 15 years after he died.

He cums with a low groan, whispering your name – he doesn’t understand how a pretty thing like you still works here and wasn’t taken by someone else already, but he would take what he can get. Never the one to get the first dibs, never being someone’s first choice – he feels terrible for thinking about you in such a low way, but his pleasure sticks to his fingers and, at this point, it’s too late to feel bad.

Drying the tip of his dick with a tissue, he spends a good few minutes with spread legs, his soft cock laying on the chair, with cum still oozing out – such a waste, honestly, would be much better to stuff you full of his cock or even take your pretty ass, spread you slowly. Keep only the tip in, not pressuring you into anything more until you’d start moving yourself, like a good slut you will be.

So perfect under him – the images and sounds of your voice are running through his mind, making him breathe heavily. If he was younger and had as much sex drive as before, he would already be hard – but he needs some time to relax, thinking about your pretty legs and adorable face.

It takes him a few minutes of listening to your sweet voice to understand that you were not, in fact, a hallucination or a mystical fairy coming to make him come. You were standing outside of the office door, looking embarrassed and clearly hearing at least some of his horny mumblings – you avoid looking at him, and your fingers are trembling when you tug at the sides of your dress. Guilt immediately rushes to him again, he looks at you like a perfect treasure you are – and he is a horrible monster trying to hoard all of it to himself.

— What is it, liebling?

Petname goes smoothly from his tongue and he can only hope that you don’t know German – he is too embarrassed to talk to you, too anxious, his newfound shyness is a result of both your beauty and the post-nut clarity that already made him feel like a monster. He contemplates just giving you money and sending you off, paying double for the false call, and leaving you a 5-star review so you won’t get in trouble with your boss.

You look so meek from his angle of view – he has to fight the urge to pinch your face, squeeze your cheeks, grab your waist in his firm hands, and just lift you in his arms, holding you to his bed. Maybe getting a nice set of cuffs to ensure you would never escape from him.

— I finished with the living room and…well, I just wanted to ask if you want the decluttering work to be done today or tomorrow.

He remembers how he basically paid you for a few days worth of work – and he smiles at exactly how perfect this decision was. Of course, you are a smart girl, a modest girl, you aren’t staying the night and would rather waste time on the road, much to his dismay, but at least he would see you for a few days already.

He might not even let you go after.

— Ach. Today, if it’s not too…

He stops himself again – of course, it’s not too much, you are a professional, not just a friend that comes to clean his place for a pack of beer and maybe some pizza. He doesn’t know how to talk to you, anxiety eats him whole, and he has to just avoid looking at you to avoid further embarrassment.

— Alright. I will do it right away then.

You smile awkwardly, your lips are twitching and he already knows that you could hear him moaning your name and sweet little praises while stroking his cock. You aren’t biting the hand that feeds you, not running away screaming at how perverted he is – poor girl, you probably need money more than you need personal safety if you’re fine with him heaving like this. If you were his, he would never allow you to be so careless.

He moves behind you in the most dreaded room of the house. Mother’s bedroom, a room that she only used for sewing and only allowed him in when he was extra whiny after another failed fight with his bullies. All of her thighs are here – ever since she passed away, he just moved everything to one room and locked it, barely bothering to keep a key. He hates being here, almost as much as being in Father’s office — this room smells like death and old paper and you scrunch your nose in an adorable expression when you take a step inside.

— I will divide everything into categories, alright?

— Gut.

You look at him nervously, clearly scared that he is watching over you now. It might feel like a logical decision – after all, it was his mother’s vintage things, who knows what kind of jewelry she kept here, something that he won’t even notice gone until it’s too late. You and him both know, however, that this isn’t the reason he is looming over you. A perfect obedient thing, you deserve something better than his affection, but he still locks his gaze with yours, looking at your hands and going through various furniture pieces.

You work like a fairy, not an ounce of laziness or exhaustion in your actions – even after you already spent a few hours cleaning his living room, you act like a Cinderella that got a bunch of magic mice up her rags. He licks his lips, looking at your perfect ass you as sit on your knees, starting with decluttering every little box there is.

— Can I just put it back in boxes or…

You look the the contents – vintage makeup, some jewelry, head pieces that don’t look particularly expensive but were definitely well-loved. You wonder who they belong to – probably a wife, or, maybe, some of his relatives who lived here. He doesn’t seem like a married or divorced man – he does, however, look insanely lonely.

It takes him a good few seconds to respond, too mesmerized by the little song you were humming a minute before. He imagines you in that old, chunky jewelry, some necklaces that cost more than your salary – and the thought makes him salivate.

He smiles, leaning closer to you – hot breath on your face, you shift immediately, scared. He is so fast for someone so big, his movements are perfect and his eyes are cold – you feel the chill deep in your bones when he moves even closer, his lips almost brushing against yours.

Suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that he locked the door to this tiny room when you both moved in.

#cod #call of duty #cod x reader #konig x reader #yandere konig #cod x you #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #male yandere #konig #konig x you #konig cod

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m1ckeyb3rry · 4 months

Text

what it’s like to bring the jjk boys to…have dinner with your family!

ft. fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji, gojo satoru, geto suguru, ijichi kyotaka, inumaki toge, itadori yuji, kamo choso, kamo noritoshi, mahito, muta kokichi, nanami kento, okkotsu yuta, panda, ryomen sukuna, todo aoi, yaga masamichi, yoshino junpei, zenin naoya

warnings: not all of these are romantic! reader is lowkey desi coded in some of them. reader is mentioned to have a brother, dogs, aunts/uncles, and cousins in some of them. reader slanders like 75% of the characters. honestly the characters might be ooc too i wrote this two years ago for fun and giggles and just found it again and wanted to post. also tw naoya!

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

Literally perfect

Your parents love him

Your dogs love him

You love him

Was kind of quiet at first but settled in eventually and opened up a bit

Was still kind of reserved but that’s to be expected from him

Your mother found it sweet that he tried to hide behind you when your uncles started interrogating getting to know him

He let your younger cousins play with his shikigami so that your dogs could get a break from being bothered

Really liked the salad your mother made and asked for the recipe

1000/10

FUSHIGURO TOJI

Actually not too bad

Was polite enough and liked the food

Showed your parents pictures of Megumi as a baby

They were suitably impressed

Your cousin asked him where he goes to the gym

He told him he doesn’t believe in gyms (thinks they’re oppressive institutions designed to disadvantage the poor?)

Did give him a discount code for some random protein powder that he’s sponsored by though

Asked your parents to donate to his charity

They were happy to do so and thought it was amazing that he has a charity

You decided not to tell them that his “charity” is literally just his bank account

4/10 for scamming your family

GOJO SATORU

Solid 7/10

Goofs around a lot but he did come so he gets points for that

Your parents hated him at first but then he showed them the album of cute Megumi pictures he has saved on his phone and they switched up

“He’s so responsible for raising a kid so young! And it’s not even his!”

Bullshit

He does NOT raise Megumi and you were the one who sent him half of those pictures

Demoted to a 6/10 just for that but at least your parents like him

Also the fact that he had an album was cute

Somehow managed to keep the dirty jokes to a minimum

Your brother kept making fun of his eyes being so blue so halfway through he had to switch the glasses out for the blindfold

Surprisingly high spice tolerance

GETO SUGURU

Honestly really a fun guy!

Actually brought his own dish to the dinner??

AND IT WAS GOOD????

Your mother wants you two to get married now

Asked if he could take some leftovers back for Mimiko and Nanako

Which was very considerate of him actually

Your mother told him he didn’t have to return the dishes she packed the food in

Let your brother win at Scrabble

Listened to your mother talk about the auntie drama

Apparently he’s going to start putting coconut oil in his hair now

Your parents are going to adopt him and kick you out

9/10 would’ve been higher but he didn’t beat your brother’s ass at Scrabble (he wanted to “make a good impression”)

IJICHI KYOTAKA

Similar to Nanami in that he and your father got along really well

Your brother called him “goofy”

He had to go to the bathroom and cry after that

He did compose himself and came back to eat

Can handle spicy food quite well

Complimented your mother’s cooking

Brought flowers as a thank you for the dinner

Was super sweet and grateful to be invited at all

11/10 would definitely invite him again

INUMAKI TOGE

Everyone was really excited to meet him

Let your cousins play with his hair and do his make up and paint his nails

Was your partner for Charades and you two won by a LOT

Kept sneaking treats to your dogs

Your mother ordered seafood for him because he could only speak in rice ball ingredients and she thought he really wanted salmon

He did eat it though

He would be a 10/10 but he accidentally used his Cursed Speech on your aunt so 8/10

ITADORI YUJI

Somehow lit the grill on fire

Managed to put it out but he did lose his eyebrows in the process unfortunately

Looked stupid without eyebrows

Spent most of his time hanging out with the little kids

Your family actually really liked him though

He’s too sweet to dislike

Helped wash the dishes and did not break any

7/10 because you almost had to call the fire department

KAMO CHOSO

Showed up an hour late

Was friendly but kinda nervous and awkward at first

Loved the food

He and your brother are best friends now

Genuinely he gets along better with your brother than with you

Impressed your father with his history knowledge

3/10 was too perfect and now your parents keep asking why you’re not more like him

KAMO NORITOSHI

He hates kids

Spent the entire first half running away from your cousins

Once he finally escaped he got along great with the adults

They really liked how responsible and mature he is

Thought it was impressive that he’s going to be the clan head

Your aunt told you that he was a keeper and you should “marry for money, hope for love”

Started crying when your mother asked him if she could hang up his jacket for him

It reminded him of his own mother who he was forced to leave as a kid

All of your aunts have unofficially adopted him now due to his tragic backstory

Deserves 10/10 just for being relatively normal

MAHITO

-892378/10 your parents couldn’t see him because he’s a curse

He was very happy to hear that and nearly destroyed your house

You had to call Geto halfway through to chase him off

Your family was thrilled to see Geto again though so at least there’s that??

MUTA KOKICHI

Sent a robot in his place obviously

Everyone wanted to know why you brought a robot to dinner

They thought you had hit a new low

You had to explain that Mechamaru was basically his body because of how weak his actual body was

Nobody believed you

-3/10 he was nice but it was overall a humiliating experience

NANAMI KENTO

Cannot eat anything spicy

Started tearing up at the appetizers alone

Had a massive stomach ache afterwards and his face was red for like twenty minutes

Your father liked talking to him about business and the economy and shit

Did not get scared when asked about his plans for the future

Actually has plans for the future

Your brother is kind of gay for him tbh (??) and threatened to marry him if you don’t

10/10 because he still finished everything on his plate so he didn’t seem rude even though he was lowkey dying

OKKOTSU YUTA

Tried his best

Your dogs tried to leave with him because they liked him so much

He brought gifts from Africa for your entire family

Did stop a toddler from getting kidnapped

Is physically really good at grilling but emotionally cannot handle the stress

Had a mental breakdown when you asked for a vegetable burger

Made the discovery that he really likes corn and proceeded to eat all of the corn you had bought for the night so nobody else got any

Summoned Rika and allowed your cousins to use her as their dress up doll

Rika was very nice and enjoyed the experience

She wants to be a fashion model now

2/10 he burnt your vegetable burger and you were really looking forward to having some corn

PANDA

Is a panda

Your younger cousins thought he was adorable

You got asked multiple times if he was a furry

5/10 he was only invited because he had nothing else to do and you had to chase him with a hose beforehand because he refused to bathe

RYOMEN SUKUNA

-1244129/10

An asshole but what’s new

Told your family to “go back to where you came from”

Degraded your parents

Degraded you

Degraded everyone really

You got into a fight with him and Gojo had to intervene

Did ask for one of your mother’s recipes so he could get Uraume to cook it for him

She did not give it to him

TODO AOI

See you thought this would be hell on earth

But it wasn’t???

Played with your dogs

Carried your cousins around on his shoulders

Your uncles were impressed by his muscles

He saved a kitten that was stuck in a tree

Did not ask a single person about their type in women

Annihilated everyone in Wii Sports Resort

Absolutely sucked at Just Dance though

He thought he was too manly for the wrist strap but then he threw the remote into the TV while playing Wii bowling and it broke

6/10 he said he’d pay for a new one

YAGA MASAMICHI

Literally your boss

Only invited him because you wanted a raise

He liked the food

Exchanged sewing tips with your mother

200/10 you got the raise

YOSHINO JUNPEI

Really cool!

Gave everyone good movie recommendations

Someone gave him a baby to hold and he nearly dropped it

Burnt his hand on the grill

Found your uncles’ shitty jokes funny so they all liked him

He was decent at debating with everyone and having intellectual conversations even though he cried whenever someone disagreed with him too harshly

Your parents were very dismayed to see the cigarette burn scars on his face

Your mother told him he could always come to your house if he needed to

4/10 because he almost gave a baby brain damage

ZENIN NAOYA

Told your parents about your sex life

Called your mother “woman”

Your cousins have a crush on him solely based on his looks

He thinks he has a harem now

0/10 they are all like 13 years old

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sillymercury · 2 months

Text

Totally Annoying and Not Funny at All

Azriel x reader

Warnings: some swearing and suggestiveness

Word count: 6.7k (I’m so sorry??)

Summary: Azriel finds you annoying and he never laughs at your lame jokes… until he does.

Azriel tried his best to ignore the mumbling that was sounding behind him, tune it out like he did with everything else he didn't want to hear. He sighed rolling his shoulders as he continued to shlep up the uneven rocks.

He had been stuck with you... again. He tried raging against his brother’s order, insisting he could handle a simple recovery mission on his own but Rhys didn't budge, saying, "She's a fine scholar who has studied Marestone for years, with her help you can turn a three day mission into one and a half." But being here, with you, he couldn't help the but wondering on the implications of leaving you here and ditching the mission completely.

It started when you appeared in his doorway as he was getting ready to leave, his shadows alerted him of your presence and he stopped short to give you a hard look. Maybe if he looked mean enough you wouldn't want to go, he knew it wouldn't work but he had to try it anyway.

You let out a low whistle as your eyes tracked up and down his body, "Is that a sword in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" You had a devilish smile and your eyes shone with mischief. He just rolled his eyes at the words, the same line every time you see him. Last time you asked if it was a shadow, the time before that a dagger, and the time he was carrying training equipment you asked if it was a fighting dummy.

He didn't speak to you as you sauntered through his room uninvited and landed belly up on his bed, shadows darted around your face and you giggled "at least someone's happy to see me." You pawed at the shadows as they darted through your hands, a little cat and mouse with the naughty shadows that didn't listen when its master tried to call them back.

You rolled over and watched him as he continued to sheath daggers and swords all over his body as the shadows played in your hair. "You know," you started and he rolled his eyes again, knowing it was going to be a repeating offense since he had to spend the next day and a half with you, "The Northwood mountains are relatively safe, I don't think you'll be needing all that hardware."

He didn't have to look over to know you had a stupid grin plastered on your face as you watched him. He just huffed and responded coldly, "You never know." You didn't really and he knew that, you moved through the world like it was your playground and you were put on this planet for the sole reason of having fun, never worrying about the dangers life has to offer. Must be nice not having a dirty past he thought to himself.

You returned the sentiment by huffing in response as well, the only difference of yours was light and airy and not laced with annoyance. "Your right your right," you had opted to rolling back over and kicking your feet as the shadows swished around your ankles, "I hear badgers are particularly dangerous this time of year. I might need you to save me,” you laughed at your own dramatics and Azriel cut a glance in your direction only for his eyes to catch on your feet.

With two stomps he was next to the bed grabbing your ankles, he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, earning and excited wooo from your lips before he threw your feet over the side. “No shoes on the bed,” was all he said before he went back to what he was doing, packing his sack with anything he could possibly need for the overnight trip.

You sat up straight and the shadow moved to curl around your neck like a scarf, “Sorry, I forgot that you’re a neat freak.” You were provoking him and he knew it but he still couldn’t help himself.

“I’m not a- I’m not a neat freak, I’m just not dirty,” his tone was meant to be offensive and he felt his anger rising at the fact that you didn’t take any.

“Pfft, says the guy who notices if his knives have been breathed on… you’d hate to see my room,” you seemed to remember the fact as you said it as you leaned over and started pushing around the things on his bed side table. You smiled at your actions as you could already see his reaction in your mind, meanwhile, a shiver when down Azriel spine. He didn’t even want to imagine your bedroom, the thought made his skin crawl. The one time he was tasked with picking you up from your apartment he saw through the crack in your door that you had clothes, shoes, books, and a bunch of random nick-nacks and toys strewn about haphazardly. “And I prefer to use the term messy. Not dirty.”

He was crossing the floor to the closet to grab his night sack when stopped to readjust his night table and he cut you a glare, “Shoes on the bed is dirty,” he gave you a once over before turning to walk in his closet. You made a face at his back before putting your feet on the bed again and kicking it wildly before moving back quickly as he came out. His shadows danced around you amused and you smiled at them. Laying back on your belly you made sure to keep your toes on the floor as you passed secrets back and forth with the shadows, giggling to yourself.

Azriel pulled the sack over a shoulder and looked over at your ass sticking up in the air, his eyes only lingered for a second but one of his shadows whispered to him, smack it, and with that he used all of his willpower to pull the shadows away from their bad influence. You frowned at the lost of your friend but stood up an asked “Ready Azzy baby?”

He frowned at the stupid nickname, he told you a million times not to use it but at this point he wasn’t sure if you even knew his real name. Looking you over clocking your attire he realized you didn’t have any belongings with you other than a small over the shoulder bag and his face morphed into a smirk at the thought of you sleeping on the ground. Your eyes shone at his reaction as he leaned towards you a whispered, “Don’t call me that.”

You shivered at his proximity and said, “Sir yes sir,” he leaned back and you bit your lip as he rounded you and walked toward the door, “I do as I’m told,” your tone was suggestive and his shadows tore from his grip to dance around your waist.

He didn’t turn but you could hear the smirk on his voice, “What if I told you to keep quiet for the rest of the trip?” He knew you would have some quick quip as to why you wouldn’t but alas a boys gotta try.

The suggestiveness lingered as you said, “Well then I might misbehave,” the shadows found your response amusing as they twisted up your torso but Azriel just responded with the shake of his head.

Now here you both were climbing up the Northwood mountains in search of a cave entrance, you had found two already but a quick sniff told you that it didn’t have what you were looking for. The flight was bearable, you didn’t talk much but when you did he would just fly faster so the wind would drown out your voice, you caught on and opted to spend the flight quietly leaning your head on his shoulder.

Being completely honest you liked Azriel but after your first meeting you knew he didn’t like you and never would, so the quips started off as a defense mechanism but you realized his shadows liked you and they seemed to love your teasing and playfulness so you settled for that; it also helped that Az looked so cute when he’s angry.

If Az was being honest he didn’t totally hate you, you were cute and your wit was unmatched but it was so much easier to act uninterested and distant.

At some point during your hike you were asking Az if he had heard the song that had been looping in your head, “Have you ever heard ‘Pl-“ was cut off by a swift no. You rolled your eyes and droned on and on about how you loved it and it was so amazing. You gave him a sample of what the song sounded like but since their wasn’t any lyrics you were just making noises with your mouth, you definitely weren’t doing the song justice and you knew he would find it terribly annoying but you couldn’t help yourself. You were just about to stop when he sent his shadows to muffle your voice and the act alone fueled you conviction so you kept going.

He had to use his entire mental capacity to force his shadows to quiet you, they didn’t want to because for some unholy reason he couldn’t discern, they liked the sound of your voice. They liked you in general but then again you were the only other person in the world who would talk and interact with them.

The mumbling stopped and he thanked the mother herself as he recalled the shadows that were quieting you but when he didn’t hear your footsteps he whipped around to scan the scene. For a brief second he thought with his luck you might have fallen over the side of the mountain, and he questioned whether that would be good luck or bad.

Instead you were face down in the dirt, he almost laughed at you splayed out on the ground like a starfish but stifled it and he walked over and nudged your arm with his foot. You rolled onto your back and stared directly at the sky, “I fell,” you said simply.

He bit back his laugh again, “Yea?”

“I was wondering how long it would take the Spymaster of the night court to notice, turns out 11 seconds.” He looked off into the distance so you wouldn’t see his smile, regaining control he looked back down but he couldn’t hide the amusement in his eye.

He shrugged down at her, “I guess your little friends didn’t see fit to tell me.” You sighed as you held out her hand, Az didn’t put much effort in trying to lift you but when you were dead weight he pulled harder. In that half second that he put all his force into pulling you up you brought your foot to his chest and pushed him over your head causing him to hit the ground with a thud.

You laughed heartily and he just stared at the sky listening to the sound. “Good one,” his voice was flat and that made you laugh harder. Rolling over you propped yourself up with your arms to witness the damage, it was his turn to be splayed like a starfish and you laughed so hard you thought your stomach would bust.

He tilted his head back to catch a glimpse and your smile was so broad he wondered if your cheeks hurt. He turned back to the sky and clocked the myriad of colors that dusted it, he had probably about an hour until sunset. He also propped himself up and scanned his surroundings once again, his shadows read his mind and told him this was as good of a place he would find to make camp. “It’s getting late, we should probably set up camp for the night.”

You moved to sit with your legs crossed and face the man who had his back to you. “Okay! What should I do?” Your not a camper, in fact you’ve never slept outside of a well established shelter with heating and cozy beds. For some reason when Rhys told you the trip would be overnight it didn’t even cross your mind that you would be sleeping outside.

“How about you just sit there and look pretty,” Az said as he got up and dusted himself off. You smiled at that, not only was it as close to a jest as he’s ever gotten but it’s also the closest to a compliment.

“Well I can definitely do that,” you leaned back onto the ground using our arm as cushions as watched the clouds glow as they moved across the painted sky. Azriel got to work, he collected sticks and logs to build a cozy little fire and catching a couple of small rabbits for food. He rummaged through his sack to pull out a pan and a pack of veggies to heat up with the meat before he pulled out his sack and tossed it to the side to unfold later.

When you smelled the food cooking you perked up and moved to crouch next to him and watch; you hadn’t even realized you were hungry until the smell hit. He looked at you out of the side of his eye, you were practically drooling as you stared at the food meant solely for him.

“I take it you didn’t pack any food,” he knew you didn’t, that’s why he caught the extra rabbits, he practically had magical foresight when it came to you. A vision of you begging for some of his food had him laughing to himself as his shadows did the hard work of catching the small creatures.

You purses your lips in thought before, “Oh!” You rummaged through your small bag and pulled out a baggie mixed with nuts, berries, and chocolates. “I brought trail mix, I’ll share if you do,” you sung the last part as you shook the baggie near his face.

He pushed the bag away lightly while shaking his head, “Fine. But I only like the chocolates,” it was a lie, he liked nuts and berries too but he had a feeling the chocolates were your favorite part so he opted to give you a taste of your own medicine. You grunted as you plopped down on your butt and mumbled a fine, whatever mostly to yourself. He smiled knowing you couldn’t see it as he finished cooking.

You two mostly ate in silence other than you offering up random facts about whatever popped in your head like how wombats poop squares or how peanuts can be used to make explosives. Azriel just nodded at whatever you said not admitting out loud what he didn’t know or what he found interesting. He offered you some of his water which turned out to be a mistake as you drank over half of it, he thanked his gift of foresight that told him to pack multiple canteens.

When you guys finished eating you both brushed your teeth with what was left of the water and Azriel was glad you at least packed your toothbrush even though you forgot toothpaste. Twilight was upon you when you finished, he rinsed off the dirty pan with the second canteen and shoved it to the bottom of his bag before rolling out his sleep sack. The corner of his eye caught you watching, awkwardly sat on your hands, lips pursed like you wanted to speak but were holding yourself back.

“Don’t even ask,” he said without looking at you as he slipped off his boots and the top layer of leather to reveal a tight fitted gray long sleeve.

“Oh come on! You don’t even have a second blanket?” When Az shook his head you groaned heavily, he made a slick comment about preparing better for overnight trips and you shook your head as you pulled your knees in close. “I didn’t know we’d be sleeping outside, I guess I assumed we’d have beds out here.”

“Oh yea,” Az said he climbed in, “Most mountains have rooms you can rent out, with heating and plumbing too. This one must just be defective.”

You couldn’t even be mad, he was making jokes, for the first time since you met him. All of your chipping must’ve cracked his icy exterior enough to make him open to shoot quips back at you. You thought about what else you might be able to pull from him as you curled into yourself on the hard ground with only your arm as a pillow.

It didn’t take long for the temperature to drop after the sun was completely gone and with the wind picking up the now small fire wasn’t doing much to help. Azriel couldn’t get to sleep, not with his shadows buzzing in his ear, she’s freezing, her lips are turning blue, she can’t feel her fingers. Not to mention your teeth chattering so hard he thought he would soon hear a crack. He got up and moved over to where you were attempting and failing to sleep and nudges your arm with his foot.

You rolled over to look at him and your lips were in fact tinged with blue, part of him felt bad at the sight as he purposely left his blankets just to spite you. “Go sleep in my sack.”

“Are you sure, what about you?” You sat up and looked at him to make sure he was serious, the light from the moon that shone on his face didn’t illuminate any semblance of a joke.

“I’ll be fine. It’s like you always say, I’m super hot,” you laughed at his words as you quickly moved to his sack.

“Thank you Azzy baby!” You called as you slipped off you shoes and windbreaker before sliding in, it was warm and it smelled like him and you let out a soft moan as you instantly felt warmer.

Az had wrapped his wings around himself in an attempt to make a barrier and the more he sat there the worse he felt for leaving you to the elements. You knew that despite what he said he would be just as freezing as you just were and you debated for a few minutes before speaking.

“You know this sack is big enough for two people,” you knew he was awake but when he didn’t answer you tried again, trying your hardest not to sound like a desperate creep, “I’m just saying, body heat will reduce the amount of heat loss. Survival 101.”

Az was freezing but he sat for a second as he debated whether or not to climb into that sack, how annoying could you be in your sleep? When a gust of wind blew against his back he just said screw it and silently made his way to you. He kicked off the untied boots before climbing in with you.

You kept your self from immediately scooting towards his warmth and let him get comfortable first. In a true gentlemanly fashion he offered his arm as a pillow and you silently swooned as you accepted it, he also brought he wing down over your body and it acted like a second blanket. Snaking your arms around his waist you tangled your legs with his and to your suprise he never stoped you or pulled away, in fact his other arm was secured around your middle. With his warmth and his smell shrouding you, you fell asleep quick and easy, much better than any bed.

Az didn’t sleep so easy, your body pressed to him was indeed keeping him warm but he wasn’t used to sleeping with someone like this. He had his share of lovers but he was never a cuddler and it didn’t help that you moved around a lot in your sleep, kicking him occasionally. With the moon higher above your heads he looked down at your sleeping face.

Though you still were finding a way to annoy him in your sleep, your state had him softening. Your skin looked so soft and pristine in the light from the moon and the hair pooled around your head glowed like a halo. You plump lips were slightly parted and you produced a light snore that had Az smiling to himself. He brought a scarred hand to caress the skin on your cheek while the arm that you layed on bent so he could twirled your hair, you let out a happy moan at the contact and he smiled as his hand took on a mind of its on. Trailing you from your cheek to your jaw, down the column of your neck and back up to swipe the soft skin of your lips.

You shifted and turned, he brought his hand back afraid he woke you, but when you just nuzzled your face deep into his chest he felt his heart jump. You inhaled his scent deeply and that seemed to settle your restlessness, his jumping heart felt a tug and he froze for a second. Looking down at you he couldn’t believe it, he felt around his heart and it wasn’t snapped but he was sure it was there.

“No,” he breathed as he looked at you wrapped around his body, “no way.” His shadows seemed excited by the revelation as they chanted yes, yes, yes, like they already knew. He wondered if the bond snapped for you already and that’s what you had been whispering to his shadows about, the thought made him shiver. He had been so cold and distasteful, you were a good fae and deserved better than that, you deserved a male who laughed at every stupid joke.

You registered his shiver in your sleep pulling him tighter to you and the simple thoughtless action made his eyes prickle. He held you tightly, memorizing the way your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. He held back his tears by inhaling your scent of honeysuckle and roasted wood, with a gentle kiss on your brow he closed his eyes and promised his nosey shadows that he would be nice tomorrow.

Az was still asleep when you woke up, you didn’t want to move and even if you did you were trapped by his strong arm and wing. But you were content to stay like this forever, gazing up at his sleeping face. His tan skin was smooth and his nose and cheekbones were decorated with freckles, you brought your hand up to hover over his face, ghosting over the lines and ridges. His hair was tousled from sleep, falling like dominoes across his forehead and his plump lips were pouting . You let out a deep sigh as you pulled your hand back, why do you torture yourself this way. You wiggled around attempting to move away from him but your efforts were futile when his arm pulled you tighter to his body, he grunted as he turned his head to nuzzle into your hair.

Your stomach was doing flips at the action and you had to remind yourself he was asleep, the action was subconscious. You pulled your head back and laid your face inches from his and watched him breathe. His long eyelashes fluttered open and the first thing his golden eyes caught was you, the faint ghost of a smile touched his lips as his eyes roamed over your face. You smiled bright at him, “Good morning shadowsinger, is that a breakfast sausage in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

For the first time since you met him he chuckled lowly as he rolled on his back and stretched his arms behind his and, “aaand you ruined it.” You laughed as he watched you from the corner of his eyes and you sat up to looked directly at him. He must be in a good mood because he wasn’t scowling at you, in fact his face had an ease you’d never seen, he was positively yummy in his sleepy daze.

“My bad,” it was your turn to stretch since you were finally free from his iron grasp though his wing stayed splayed across your legs, “didn’t know there was anything to ruin.”

Az brought his fingers up to grab the ends of your hair, mindlessly twirling it around his fingers while you did the same to his shadows that excitedly came to greet you, “Your actually bareable when you sleep, you don’t talk and ruin it.” He meant his word as a joke but something clicked for you. Azriel is quiet and calm, he would probably prefer someone like him, maybe if you weren’t always badgering him for attention he could reciprocate your feelings. “Except for the fact that you’re a kicker.”

You laughed as his shadows danced away and you leaned back against your hand to look at his face again “Yea I probably should have warned you, my sisters refuse to share a bed with me for that exact reason.” When he didn’t look away or move your turned your attention back to your hands, the softness in his eyes was too much and you worried for your conviction. You reached out a finger to dance across the top of his wing which instantly retracted at your touch. He grunted as he moved to sit up, “Im sorry, I didn’t- I shouldn’t have-“

“Its fine,” He shook his head as he pushed the top of the sack off his body and made a move for his shoes, “I just don’t want to hear any more breakfast sausage jokes.” He smirked over his shoulder and you blushed at his suggestive tone, only able to nod as you noted the sensitivity of Illyrian wings. You pushed yourself up and grabbed your shoes as well before getting ready to hike again.

When your teeth were brushed, hair tied, and you finished reliving yourself Az had successfully packed up the rest of the camp as stood waiting for you. You began your hike and this time you remembered to keep your mouth shut, no suggestive jokes, no terrible singing, and no random facts. Just silence as you found another cave that didn’t have the distinct smell you were looking for. “I think we need to be higher up,” You said as you craned your neck to look up the mighty mountain that still lied ahead, “You could fly us up there and we could work our way down.”

He adjusting the sack on his shoulder and looked at you like you had a secret he was trying to figure out, after a few seconds of you shifting under his gaze he spoke, “Its fine,” he followed you eyes up the mountain, “I don’t mind walking.”

“Well I do,” you huffed walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his shoulder as you willed yourself to keep your eyes on the mountain, “my feet are killing me and I’d rather have a real bed tonight.” You didn’t mean for the first time you spoke since this morning to have a bite to it but you couldn’t help it, forcing yourself to shut up all day was like shaking up a beehive and then telling them they have to remain calm. You were buzzing under the surface but you hoped he would write it off as crankiness. Az got the message and just nodded, he scooped up your legs and shot into the air. You watched his powerful wings that your fingers itched to touch, instead you pressed your mouth to his shoulder and watched silently.

He landed near the top where the safe part of the trail ended and when he started walking without putting you down you pulled back to look at him, “You can put me down now.” He smirked at your words and tossed you up slightly to readjust you tighter against him.

“You don’t want to walk, I don’t mind walking,” he shrugged against you and you wanted to say ‘if you like me just say that’ but you bit your tongue as you were determined not to be annoying today. You just shook your head and put your mouth back to his shoulder, watching the sky over his back. “What? No comment?” When you shook your head he chuckled airily, “Must be my lucky day,” you could hear the smile in his voice and you just closed your eyes shaking your head lightly.

Az had tried to talk to you a couple times, recalling random facts you’ve told him or telling you his own. Each time you would either have a short response or just hum, channeling him and the way he reacted to you. You figured whatever your doing must’ve been working as he seemed much lighter and happier today, that hurt a deep part of you.

Az knew there was something wrong, you weren’t you, but he figured you must’ve been tired or cranky from the uncomfortable sleeping situation and all the walking. You were a scholar used to plushy couches and central air, you were totally out of your element. He eventually stopped trying so hard to get you to talk, he wanted to be good to you and that included reading the signs and not prying.

Eventually he came across a cave and when you hopped out of his arms and smelled the inside you were hit with the smell of rotten milk, you were in the right place. You beckoned him and as soon as he stepped in he started waving his hand in front of his nose, “Wooo, smells like Cass after too much dairy.” You bit your lip to hide your chuckle as you continued deeper into the cave, “Oh come on, that’s totally something you would say, I don’t even get a chuckle?”

Without turning around you just said “Ha ha,” in as stale of a voice you could muster, “Your almost as funny as me.”

Az’s small laugh echoed off the cave and your stomach turned as you memorized the formula; don’t speak too much, make jokes when prompted, keep a cool demeanor like him. “There she is,” he mused, and before he could go on you spoke.

“And there it is,” the smell was so pungent it was like the glass of toxic milk was right under your nose. You pointed up and thought a small whole in the ceiling there was sparkling lights shining through. Marestone despite its awful smell had a beautiful luminosity and many applications, it was embude I’m most magical technology as well as cured to be used in different medicines. The potent material would last for years as a single rock could be split between a hundred different uses.

“Give me a boost,” you said putting your hand on his shoulder and lifting your leg for him, he just looked at you dumbly.

“I’m not sending you up there,” he shook his head and moved your hand.

“Well your not gonna fit,” when he cut you a look your raised your hands defensively, you both knew it was true. There’s no way the big Illyrian warrior with the mega wingspan was fitting through that hole.

“Okay and what happens when you fall? Or the integrity of the cave gives out under you?” He put his hands on his hips in a mock attempt to show sincerity and you matched his movement.

“Ye of little faith,” you said wagging a finger, he just smiled. “Are you trying to extend this trip by another day? They grow on the ceiling, it’ll take forever to find another cave with rocks lower down.”

He just shrugged, “Okay,” he turned to walk away and your attempt to stay cool was thwarted when you groaned loudly.

“Fine, if you won’t help me up I’ll find my own way,” you started pawing at the cave wall, trying to find any wholes or cracks you could use to pull yourself up.

“Okay okay, with my luck you’ll kill yourself trying,” he came over and put his hands on your waist as he guided you away from the cave wall and easily lifted you up towards the whole. When that didn’t work he sat you on his shoulder before lifting you again at the knees, you stretched to reach through the whole and hoisted yourself up, sitting on the edge you had your feet dangling down towards Azriel who kept a hand on your ankle and watched from below.

You pulled out one of the four sealed canister and began pulling the soft rock out of the ceiling and filling it up. It didn’t take long to fill up the first, second, and third canister. The fourth is where you ran into trouble, you’d grabbed all the stone close to you so the rest was slightly out of reach. You pulled your ankle out of Azriel grasp and placed in on the other side of the hole as you stretched your body to reach the stones.

The canister was nearly full when your foot slid, “Are you okay? Can you reach it?” You called out letting him know you were fine and almost done, you moved to grab the last bit you could see when your foot slipped completely and the force dragged your body out of the whole.

Like the knight in shining armor he his Az caught you before you could hit the floor, clutching the glowing canister to your chest you stared up at him in awe. Sure, he would’ve caught anyone that fell but the way his arms were tight around you and his breathing ragged as he searched your face had your heart lurching.

When he caught you it snapped fully for him, you were his mate and there was no denying it. He felt like time slowed and all he could do was stare at your face, memorizing everything he missed before. He pulled on the bond and felt it was one sided and that caused his heart to surge, all of your flirting was because you wanted to and not because of a premature snapping of the bond.

Clearing your throat you jumped out of his arms and dusted yourself off before tucking the canister away. You mumbled your thanks before moving to the exit of the cave.

“Thanks?” He said genuinely sounding confused as he followed you, “No swooning and calling me ‘your hero,’” mocking your voice on the last part which earned him a scoff from you.

“I do know how to be serious Azriel”

“Yea but why would you want to? And since when do you use my real name?”

“Because I don’t want to make this trip miserable for you, and that was a stupid nickname anyway.” You squinted and used your hand as a shield when you stepped back in the sun, Az on your heels.

“Miser- what are you talking about?” He grabbed your wrist and turned you around to face him but you couldn’t meet his eyes so you just shook your head and looked down.

“Nothing, it’s- it’s nothing at all,” you tried to pull your wrist back but his grip was like iron. Your breath hitched when an unexpected and gentle hand traced your jaw and stopped at your chin, lifting your head up and bringing your eyes to his golden ones.

“If it’s making you upset then it’s not nothing,” his hand slipped to cup your cheek and your delusion allowed you to lean into the touch, reveling in its warmth. Your eyes fluttered closed and for a blissful second you let yourself believe he cared, “Talk to me baby.”

The pet name had your eyes flying open and suddenly the spell was broken, you pulled his hand away and pushed him back. The hope his simple actions had given you had you biting back tears, “Don’t call me baby. I’m not a child that needs coddling,” you spat out your words like poison on your tongue

“No I’m not-“ he tried to step forward but you matched him with a step back.

“I know Azriel, I know you don’t like me. I know you find me unbearable and annoying. I know you can never like me for who I truly am,” the tears were getting harder to push back, “Today when I acted different you seemed so much happier but that hurts more- it hurts more than your cold glares because I like you. Every since I met you all I’ve wanted is to make you laugh but-“ you were cut off by your own hiccup and your balled fist came up to wipe your tears but his shadows beat you to it.

Like a flash of lightning he was on you, cupping your cheeks and staring with wide, scared eyes. “No, no, no,” his words were soft when he tilted his forehead down to meet yours, your hands instinctively tried to pull on his wrists but he held true.

“Baby,” his low voice called to you and you closed your eyes tight as more tears fell, “Baby please don’t cry. I’m sorry, this is all my fault.” Your eyes opened again when his voice cracked and you could see he had his own tears he was fighting to keep at bay. You never thought you would see him look so sad, so broken.

“I was so mean to you, I tried to block you out and push you away because you’re everything I’m not. Your bright and fun and so damn happy, I couldn’t figure out what you saw in me and the fact that you even liked me so brazenly made me hate you- but not because of you or who you are but because of me and all of the shit I’ve spent centuries running from.

“You are not the one who has to change, I am. I’m so so sorry I ever made you feel like the real you wasn’t good enough, it’s so much more than enough. I’ll spend forever proving it to you.”

Tears were still clouding your vision so you blinked quickly to let them fall before you brought your hands to his face, moving your head back so you could inspect him. He was serious, and that made your heart jump like it was trying to leave your chest and fly into his. You just shook your head when you brought his lips down to yours.

It was like throwing fresh meat to starving lions, the originally soft kiss dissolved into a mess of frenzied passion and primal hunger. His hand tangled into your hair pulling your head in while the other pressed your bodies together firmly before tracking the curves of your body. Your hands were just as wild as they moved between pulling the hair on his nape to clawing his shoulders and neck. When his tongue darted out to swipe across your bottom lip, it snapped.

You flew back out of his grasp and stared as your one hand felt the lips that were now swollen and the other was on your heart that was now being pulled towards the man in front of you- to your mate. Azriel was your mate. You almost didn’t believe it, tugging on the bond to make sure it was real. A laugh left your lips when he tugged back, twice. Stepping back into his arms you kissed him again, slower this time as you memorized the way your lips molded together.

“You’re my mate,” you said breathlessly when you finally pulled away. He smiled down and nodded, you were grinning like a kid in a candy store. From the moment you met him he was all you ever wanted and now you could feel the bond that tied your hearts together, the string that always pulled you to him even before you knew of its existence. You wished you could find the mother and thank her personally for the blessing that was looking down at you with pure unbridled love and sending his feelings of adoration down the bond.

“That is if you’ll have me,” his arms circled your waist and his nose moved to the column of your neck, brushing up and down as he breathed you deep into his lungs. He hummed lightly before going on, “Can you forgive me for being such an asshole?”

You smiled to yourself, “I don’t know Azzy baby, I think you’re going to have to make it up to me.” A playful growl bubbled up as he lightly nipped your throat, earning him a surprised yelp.

You ended up feeding him some of the trail mix you made and the frenzy kicked in at your newly accepted bond. It’s safe to say you two didn’t make it home that night, or any night for the next month as you basked in the joys of being mated.

A/N: AHHHHHHHHHH my first fic😭

It felt a little rushed and slightly juvenile but I had so much fun writing her. I hope if you enjoyed it and if you hated it… no you didn’t tf?

Lols but srsly I love genuine feedback and if you got this far I LOVE YOU!!

Masterlist

#acotar azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel one shot #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acosf #acowar #acomaf #acofas #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfiction #acotar fanfic #azriel spymaster #acotar oneshot #azriel fluff #azriel fic

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hypewinter · 10 months

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I got a take on the Danny is Damian's older brother au. He's Damian's brother but he's his adopted brother. So hear me out:

Danny is running away post TUE and he encounters some assassins. For whatever reason they get into a fight and he beats them. This ends up getting back to Ra's who is quite curious about who beat up his most prized assassins effortlessly. After some investigation, he extends an invite for Danny to train under him. On Danny's part, he jumps at the chance to disappear off the face of the earth and have a free place to stay.

Danny ends up being an absolute prodigy. This is him close to being Dan so his morals are much shakier. He doesn't leap at the opportunity to kill, but he's most definitely not above it if need be. Combine that with his ghost powers and personal training by Ra's himself and the guy becomes like the golden standard within the league. So much so to the point where Ra's even names him his heir and adopts him. Though Danny insists he is his adopted grandson and not adopted son.

Flashforward to Damian being born and Ra's obviously wants him to be his new heir. Not that Danny has any problem with this. He's very clearly Ra's favorite considering the things he's allowed to get away with. Like letting targets go, having worldly possessions in his room (TV, gaming console, computer, etc), and even befriending his subordinates (Ra's particularly doesn't like that one but knows Danny will never allow it to become a weakness for him). Even if Danny wasn't the heir, he would still maintain a significant level of authority within the league (again not that he cares about having power as long as there's a roof over his head).

The problem is, Damian can't compete with Danny. After all, who could match up to a highly trained half ghost with dubious morals? Let alone a kid. Too bad Ra's doesn't see it that way. He sees Damian as a failure who will never measure up to Danny. That's why he sends the boy off to live with his father. It's under the excuse that he'll be receiving a different sort of training but in reality, the Demon Head no longer wants anything to do with his biological grandson.

Obviously this turns into quite the complex for Damian. Meanwhile Danny absolutely adores Damian. From the moment he was introduced to the baby he was ecstatic. He'd always wanted to be an older brother. He would constantly be barging into Damian's room to hang out and whenever they'd sparred together, he'd try to let him win. Ra's quickly caught onto that one and put a stop to it immediately though. Basically Danny is Damian's League of Assassins version of Dick. An example of what he's supposed to be that he will always compare himself to (and that also has no idea what personal space is).

Danny loved his little brother so much that he even managed to get a mission to Gotham about a year after Damian had been sent there in order to surprise him with a belated birthday present.

The bats are absolutely shocked with an assassin suddenly charges at Damian and before anyone can react, scoops him into a hug. Damian is screeching bloody murder as he attempts to get Danny to let him go. Danny is just hugging him while saying stuff like "I missed you little brother" and "You've grown so much since I last saw you" all while avoiding knives to the chest.

The bats get shocked x2 because wait.... little brother!? Talia had another child!? And one far older than Damian to boot. Damian is quick to clarify that Danny is adopted while still trying to stab him. Imagine the boy's horror and Danny's delight when he gets invited back to the batcave to speak further.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #winter's tales #btw i don't think ra's knows that danny is a half ghost #just a troubled kid trying to run away from something #which works for him because that means there's no danger of danny leaving the league #or is there?

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onlyswan · 4 months

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summary: in which leaving the past behind is not as easy as forgetting, and you want to be everything jungkook wants to know.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / wc: 7.9k

playlist: strange by celeste / sinking by clairo / manta rays by chloe moriondo / ceilings by beabadoobee / iris (cover) by phoebe bridgers & maggie rogers

content/warnings: [deep breath] no one will know the violence it took to become this gentle / it’s their first winter as a couple / oc’s ex bf slaps oc / jk beats up the ex / blood and bruises / crying :( / mention of cheating (not in our main’s rs we don’t tolerate that in this household :]) / mention of s*x / jimin as both their older brother and friend :(

in which masterlist!

note: greeting 2024 with angst woopsie… i literally ugly sobbed writing a particular scene T_T… anwww i hope it’s a good read <3 as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! i’d love to hear your thoughtsss 🥺

—

the word VICTORY flashes across the screen.

with a proud smirk adorning his lips, jungkook pushes down his headphones to hang around his neck.

he rises from his seat, resting his crossed arms over the partition dividing the computer that you’re renting from his.

“hi, baby. are you almost done?”

he chuckles to himself when he realizes that you didn’t hear him, not with the music blasting from your headphones. you direct your attention upwards when endless song by no reply is abruptly put on pause; the cushions of the headphones are pressed up against your cheek by your boyfriend’s doing.

“what?”

“hi, baby. are you almost done?”

“oh, yes…” your focus returns to the screen, fast fingers dancing along the keyboard without an ounce of hesitation weighing on them. “i just… need to… send the file to my email.”

jungkook blinks at the long rows of words you’re masterfully curating, thinking to himself — how the hell do you think and type that fast at the same time?

it was his suggestion to stay at a pc bang tonight so you could be together while you each do your own thing. he spent his half of his day-off playing games, and during that time, you worked on your research paper and finished an essay that isn’t even due for another week. you took a break every hour, munched on some snacks, and cheered him on while he was diligently playing. perhaps he could’ve done something more productive today, but it couldn’t have made him happier.

he holds out the last slice of gimbap in between chopsticks, lightly poking your lips, and his heart flutters when you offer him a sweet smile after welcoming the big bite with some difficulty, cheeks full and nose scrunched.

“is there anything else you want to eat?”

you shake your head, and unable to speak while chewing, you gesture for water as if you’re playing charades.

a kiss is granted to your forehead.

when he comes back with a bottled water, all your tabs have been closed and you’re wearing your white beret again, re-organizing your belongings in your backpack.

“ready to leave?” he inquires as he hands your order.

you hum as a reply, standing from your seat as you swing the backpack over your head to wear it with little to no effort.

jungkook thinks you’re so cool.

you visit the restroom as he settles the bill. when you come out, he’s already pulling out a credit card from his wallet. you decide to head straight for the door then, wait for him outside as the air inside the room has started to feel a little too stuffy after you stepped away from the computer.

you’ve always thought about it— how time stands still when you experience something traumatic, how that moment feels stretched for eternity… how utterly barbaric that is. you’re forced to memorize frames of the origin of your scars, relive it over and over again, eyes closed and open. moments of happiness, on the other hand, are fleeting. they are sand slipping through the gaps of your fingers. getting out of bed is scooping them in your hands and praying that they will hold on to you in the following rotations and revolutions of the earth. they never do.

there he stood at the bottom of the stairs, just as horrified as you.

his face is the last thing you want to see on a winter night.

because you still recall the amalgamation of emotions in his eyes two winters ago. his skin was flushed from the cold, but he turned redder with anger and your stomach coiled in shame.

“juwon?”

the name felt odd in your mouth. it’s like when you eat a food you haven’t had in a long time, and it doesn’t quite taste like you remember it.

and to be honest, you didn’t know what you expected to happen when he carried on to climb the remaining steps that led to you. but it definitely wasn’t… this.

the first hand to carress your bare body, as if it was in disbelief of its existence, and the rings you used to blindly adore— they collide with your cheek with a sound that resonates in your eardrums.

the slap thins out into a ringing noise.

“are you insane?!”

it continues to assault your hearing even as you scream and hit him back.

it ends when someone bumps against your shoulder in a haste, and the next thing you register is juwon lying on the ground with jungkook sitting on top him, balled fist throwing unforgiving punches at your ex-boyfriend’s face. juwon is held hostage by the shock and is unable to reciprocate jungkook’s aggression. he attempts to fight back but your boyfriend dodges easily.

“jungkook! stop, stop, stop!”

you run down the stairs with panic thundering in your chest, nearly in tears as you forcefully grasp at the back of jungkook’s coat to pull him away, but with his strength and the adrenaline flowing through his veins, your efforts prove to be fruitless.

“you fucking bastard! i’m gonna kill you!”

“that’s enough-” you cry out. “please!”

“how dare you lay a hand on my girlfriend like that, huh?!”

he is furious, gripping the collar of juwon’s sweater and slamming him to the ground.

“your girl?” coughing, juwon faces the side to spit out the blood in his mouth, which then shapes into an arrogant smirk. “didn’t you know? ____ was mine first. i was the first!”

the next punch he receives cuts his lower lip open, and a stronger metallic taste assaults his tongue.

“jungkook!”

before jungkook could inflinct more permanent damage, you resort to holding back his arm with both of your hands.

your gazes connect, and your heart drops to your stomach. he is seething with anger. your blood runs cold and a thick haze clouds your thinking. you can’t move your limbs. what do you do? what do you do? what do you do?

“____, let go. i’m not fucking finished with him.”

“please,” you beg, ignorant of the tears that have begun to slide down your cheeks. “that’s enough. look at him!”

“and why should i care?” he spits out as he shrugs you off.

“ah, jungkook! i said that’s enough! why won’t you listen to me?!”

your desperate tantrum falls on deaf ears. you squeeze your eyes shut when he re-assumes his stance, tucks his thumb over his folded fingers, exactly what he taught you about making a proper fist to avoid injuring one’s self when boxing.

“stop it! you’re scaring me!”

that throws a bucket of ice over jungkook’s head. the anger in his eyes is replaced by vacancy, and with that, juwon seizes the opportunity to finally strike him with a jab and escape from underneath him. jungkook finds himself pushed aside on the ground with a throbbing cheek, mostly likely to be noticeably bruised in the next hours.

“love-” you gasp, and you rush over to him but your path gets rudely obstructed by your ex.

“is this the guy you cheated on me with?”

he is extremely near that you can feel him panting on your face. two years later, your stomach coils in disgust. your glare is venomous, and if only looks could kill, if only looks could kill…

“just leave, won’t you? what’s the point of all this?” you roughly push him away with your remaining shred of energy, driven by exhaustion and frustration. “it was so long ago! get a fucking grip!”

he huffs in disbelief as he wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth. it also drips from his nose and eyebrow. strange enough, you do not feel guilt nor compassion for this man. not anymore.

“are you seriously crying just because he got punched one time…? isn’t that a little unfair? you loved me too. once.” he snickers, but he is visibly pissed off. he can no longer look at you in the eye. “shit, is he that much of a better fuck than me?”

your skin crawls. bile creeps up your throat. technically speaking, this is the consequence of your own actions, but you can’t help but to be resentful.

“you are…” your voice trembles, but your glare remains unwavering. “still as despicable and shallow as ever… and i don’t regret what i did.”

and it may have been a long time ago, but you still know how to hit him where it hurts the most— his ego.

you purposely bump against his shoulder as you make your way to jungkook, leaving him speechless as he stares at the ground. the night the two of you broke up, you were crying and begging him for forgiveness… what the fuck happened?

“let’s go home.” you demand quietly while refusing to meet jungkook’s stare— a mix of confusion, offense, and rage.

but the thing about juwon? he always needs to have the last word.

“you better keep a close eye. you might think you know ____, but whores never change. especially those who became one so young.”

“dude, how are you still speaking?!”

it’s too late when you realize that jungkook has left your side. he swings at juwon’s face with a force that sends the man stumbling backwards. he completely loses balance then collapses on the ground with a curse that almost misses your ears.

“don’t ever go near ____ again! don’t even think of it! if you show your face to me again, i might really end up fucking killing you. you hear me?!”

—

jungkook doesn’t recall a time when he felt a rage this intense and consuming. witnessing you get slapped, his vision went dark and he was shaking with fury. everything was a blur after that, but he knew one thing: this man violated the most precious person to him, and he won’t allow him to get away with that unscathed.

and that must be why he feels restless until now. neither one of you has dared to utter a word for the past couple of minutes. he can’t see your face as you’re walking ahead of him, leading the way with his wrist in your cold hand. however, he can hear your sniffles, and he can see you wiping your tears dry with the back of your hand. he thought he has experienced heartbreak, but this pain cuts deeper than anything he has ever felt.

“baby, let’s go back.”

he breaks the silence, standing infront of you to stop you on your tracks. he almost reeks of desperation as he intertwines your fingers together.

“please? there should be a cctv camera infront. we can sue him.”

“are you even hearing yourself? you’ll also get into trouble!”

his insistence only fuels the urge to cry and scream and break things. it’s an understatement to say that you’re ashamed. it was foolish of you, really, to assume that leaving the past behind would be as easy as forgetting. it may be out of sight but it is everywhere, and it sneaks up on you without tell and mercy.

“you attacked him out of nowhere! he can sue you for that too!”

“out of nowhere?” he repeats your words slowly, hurt flashing across his face. “i was protecting you, ____! who knows what else he could’ve done? and the shit he was talking about you? was i just supposed to stand there and do nothing?”

“and i’m protecting you too! why did you even have to punch him again?! he was obviously just trying to provoke you! god, i-” you release the air in your lungs you didn’t realize you’ve been holding. “thank god he didn’t see your face.”

that struck a nerve for some reason. he harshly rips off the mask that has been concealing half of his face all along.

“he hit you! look- fuck, you’re bleeding-”

oh, his rings must’ve grazed you.

jungkook brings out a clean white handkerchief from the backpocket of his pants, pressing it softly against your cheek. the sharp sting forces you to grit your teeth. it’s not only the wound… your skin is still warm and tender from the assault. you’re terrified to look at the mirror. you don’t want to feel sorry for yourself.

“and that’s what you’re really worried about right now?”

“okay, then i’m sorry for caring about my boyfriend and his career! i’m sorry, okay?!“

he dies a little inside when you harshly push his hand aside.

so this is what it feels like to be at the other end of your anger… shitty. it feels really shitty. after what happened, there is no sadness or fear. the twinkle in your eyes have been replaced with sharp daggers and it is gutwrenching to watch. it clicks for him then: you weren’t scared of him. you were scared for him.

he doesn’t allow you to go further than ten feet away. he seizes your arm before sneaking his hand on your waist to tug you closer to his body.

“you think i’m letting you out of my sight again? it’s not happening!”

you click your tongue in exasperation, left with no choice but to admit defeat as he hails the approaching taxi. you cover your face to hide from the blinding headlights.

ever the gentleman, jungkook opens the door for you.

“get in, ____.”

and the first thought that enters your mind: the air freshener is nauseating. it has to be something mixed with lemon.

you roll the window down as your boyfriend dictates the address of your destination to the taxi driver. not yours, but his. you send him an unimpressed scowl, but he only looks back at you challengingly under the warm dim light. the soft cloth is placed over your wound again, rudely snatched as you turn away from him. you hold it on your own as you watch the world outside the window, streetlamps with blurry light streaks and homes you will never set foot into. in the midst of your musing, you register the weight on your head, or its lack thereof. your beret landed on the ground in the aftermath of the first strike. what is there left to lose?

you thought you could be happy at last, but beside you is another soul you’ve stained with your bloody hands.

juwon was right, you never change.

—

“i still don’t think it’s right that i know the password.” you whisper as you push the door open.

“but i have a key to your house. what’s the difference?”

“i don’t know…” you begin removing your boots, carefully placing each one in the middle level of the shoe rack. “you live with six other people.”

“namjoon-hyung and yoongi-hyung are in their studios. the others went home.”

you enter the living room with jungkook hugging you from behind. his cheek rests on top of your shoulder, and he doesn’t want to let you go. the ride here was suffocating. he thought you wouldn’t talk to him for the rest of the night anymore.

you blink at jimin who is sprawled out on the sofa, a gray blanket that matches his sweatpants is covering his naked torso.

“why does he sleep here? doesn’t he have a bed?”

“the sofa is more comfortable.” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear as he opens his eyes halfway, but then he gives up and closes them again, curling in on himself to resume his slumber.

“okay… now i know what to get you for your birthday.”

for a brief second jungkook assumes that you’re joking, but you sounded way too nonchalant.

“a sofa?”

“a new mattress,” you blankly stare back at him, before proceeding to break free from his embrace to search for the bathroom.

he follows you like a lost puppy, whining. “why does he already have a birthday gift and i don’t?!”

“quiet!”

he winces. “sorry, hyung!”

—

you’re perched in the space between jungkook’s thighs, legs swung over one of them as he tenderly presses a cold compress against your left cheek. you’ve changed into the pair of pink cooky pajamas he wore a few times and has kept in his closet specially for you. sinking into his mattress, drowsiness has also begun to seep into the depths of your bones. it’s been an arduous week, and you’re exhausted of fighting in every sense of the word.

“he deserves more than what he got away with.” he mutters through gritted teeth.

“jungkook, enough.” you chide at him with a sigh. “let’s just forget about this.”

“your face is going to be bruised for atleast a week! how am i supposed to ‘just forget’? are you hearing yourself?”

your rhetoric question from earlier comes back to gnaw at your thread-like sanity. you feel backed into a corner. you can’t think of a solution that will put this issue at rest, much less make either one of you feel better.

“he’s not worth it.”

“you are to me.” he declares.

it’s impossible to argue with that. you want it to stay true. you want him to keep believing in you.

“i’m tired.” you whisper, removing yourself from his lap. “let’s go to sleep.”

he gazes at you with longing.

you are lying on his bed but you have never felt so far away.

“are we really not going to talk about this?”

“not now. i’m tired, jungkook.”

“baby…”

“juwon is a terrible person, but i had it coming…” you mumble. “that’s all there is to it.”

foreboding silence falls upon the bedroom. you can’t bring yourself to look at jungkook, so you close your eyes and pray that when the sun rises, this night will simply turn out to be a nightmare orchestrated by your wicked mind.

“whatever that is, it doesn’t warrant what he did.” he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, and it takes everything in you not to fall apart into a thousand shards. “and i’m sorry that i couldn’t stop it from happening.”

—

jungkook returns after his shower, not yet done with drying his dripping hair with a towel. you’ve drifted off to sleep in the time that he was gone, lips slightly parted open as you breathe out puffs of air in a steady rhythm. your hair is a halo and you’re an angel snoozing on a cloud.

he heard it loud and clear, and you haven’t denied it either, but there’s not a part of him that believes it. is he blindly in love with you? is this what he was warning him about? are you not an angel, but a siren?

wary of waking you up, he attaches a bandaid to your cheek. he flicks the lightswitch but he turns on the night lamp so you won’t have to manuever the dark incase you wake up in the middle of the night in need of the bathroom.

shit, shit, shit. he curses in his head when you begin shuffling as soon as he settles himself on the bed, but it’s just you unknowingly seeking for warmth in your sleep. he gathers you in his arms and your pillow is abandoned in favor of his naked chest. it always feels fitting, like his heart is the stuffed toy that you can’t go without at night.

he swallows the lump in his throat, brushing your hair away from your face to gently caress your soft skin. you look so serene. but your ex’s fingers can be traced on the red bruise that has tainted your cheek and his jaw clenches, hand momentarily balling into a fist to release the leftover anger still boiling in his blood. everyday, you feel the need to act tough because of people like him, and you are… but deep down, he knows, that you just crave to be loved.

“you loved me too. once.”

however, that has lost its meaning when juwon didn’t love you the way you deserved to be loved.

and jungkook admits it’s not as easy for him to do in a whole different dimension. he leads a kind of life not everyone survives, but that never stopped him for trying his damn hardest.

—

you’re awoken in the middle of the night by jungkook’s forehead accidentally knocking against yours. his snoring doesn’t cease, however, and you had to remind yourself that this is the same boy who continued sleeping despite rolling off his inflated sleeping bag on camera.

you slowly sit up as you rub the sleep from your eyes. you spend an unknown amount of time spaced out, barely blinking. afterwards, you force yourself to leave the comfort of the bed, taking the cold compress along with you. you drain the melted ice over the kitchen sink before opening the refrigerator to refill it with ice cubes. you can’t help but to allow your eyes to wander around, which then leads you to contemplate on whether to cook ramen or not… but then again, it’s already 3am and most likely, you won’t be able to sleep again if you do.

“yah! why are doing just standing there?”

the deep voice echoes throughout the kitchen. you yelp in shock, nearly dropping the ice bag as you tap on your pounding chest.

“i told you to stop doing that!”

jimin bursts into a fit of too delighted giggles, hunched over the kitchen counter as he places a hand over his belly. he’s fully clothed this time, fresh from the shower, judging from his hair.

“it’s not funny!” you whine. “one of these days i might be holding a knife when you do that!”

“ey, what would you be holding a knife for? jungkook never lets you lift a finger while you’re here.”

that’s just because he knows you’re not very talented in the kitchen.

the wide smile on his face then fades, expression morphing into one of concern as he studies your face bathed by the refrigerator light.

“what happened to your face?”

fuck, you’ve completely forgotten about that.

“it’s a long story.” you sigh, closing the refrigerator.

“it’s alright. i have all the time in the world to listen.”

“you know that i really appreciate that and i’m grateful but…” your smile borders on a wince. “no, you don’t. get some more sleep, please.”

your unexpected response causes jimin to scratch his head shyly. the two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before laughing at the same time.

“oh, that’s right!” you pause on your tracks when an essential item pops in your mind. “do you have healing ointment? for cuts and bruises and stuff?”

“it’s for jungkook,” you add.

“doesn’t he have that?”

“it’s not here,”

your sweet smile tells jimin everything he needs to know.

“ah, that kid really comes home to different houses now. he’s all grown up.”

“…and how many exactly?” you arch an eyebrow.

he purses his lips together, jokingly pretending to think hard. “the dorm… and then his family… then there’s you?”

“anywhere else?”

“nope!”

“sooo, do you have it or not?”

“i’ll go downstairs and buy it right now.”

he offers you a kind smile and pats on the head. a protest dies down in your throat as he goes straight for the front door.

“thank you!”

“you’re welcome!”

—

despite your active efforts to avoid making any sort of noise, the door produces a small ‘click’ as you cautiously close it behind you. you discover that jungkook has flipped over to face your side, his arm outstretched as if he was reaching out for you. you almost feel bad for leaving him alone in bed, so you sit next to him, positioned on the lower half of the bed since he took up your space.

a short snore escapes him, one that rises then falls so abruptly, like a note on the piano pressed on accident. you cover your mouth to muffle your giggle.

how adorable. you have grown to tolerate, and even adore, his snoring.

stolen kisses on his bruised knuckles, tiny and featherlight, apologetic most of all. their bad condition brought upon by boxing worsened when he used his dominant hand bare, knuckles of his two longest fingers ripped. it seems that he did the bare minimum by putting a stop to the bleeding then washing them clean, then nothing else. he didn’t even tell you, didn’t complain or show any sign that he was in pain.

you hold the cold compress over his bruises, switching between his cheek and knuckles, mindful of not touching the wounds as to not aggravate him in his sleep.

you’ve been stripped down bare— your pride and dignity dismantled into pieces that create a picture of you that you do not like… but could be the love and sincerity in your heart be enough to live by? even if no one is awake to witness it?

you’re saved from drowning in your thoughts by the front door being unlocked. for the second time, you tiptoe your way out of jungkook’s bedroom.

“this is for wounds, and then…” jimin returns the tube inside the paper bag to grab the other. “this one, for bruises.”

“thank you. i’ll pay you back.”

“yah!” jimin expands his eyes threateningly, which you mimic in challenge as you hug the paper bag to your chest. “i’m also your older brother, okay? i should do these things for you.”

you scrunch your nose, to express disagreement at first, but later on it only makes your smile appear brighter.

“doesn’t it hurt you to smile? please use them well too, ____. do you understand? that’s why i bought the biggest ones!��

it does hurt.

“thank you…” you reply shyly.

you’ve forgotten how it feels like to be taken care of by family.

—

“baby, where did you go?”

jungkook’s raspy voice is music to your ears.

he woke up a mere minute ago, caught in the middle of sitting up on the bed once it caught up to his sleep-muddled brain that you’re no longer beside him.

“nowhere,”

you sit at the edge of the bed without another word, putting his hands over your lap to apply the healing cream to his afflictions.

his eyelids flutter in sleepiness as he watches your every movement.

a small dollop at the pad of your finger, transferred over his torn knuckle and smeared with the lightest of touch. occasionally your finger pauses, unsure, calculating— the last thing it wants is to hurt him.

he kisses your lips— he feels suspended in time—hasn’t quite reconnected with reality and with his body. wide-eyed, you seem taken aback by the display of affection. his mouth then softly curves with fondness.

“i love you.”

“i love you, too.” you whisper timidly.

your actions have become hurried, but jungkook is far too drowsy to notice your discomfort.

for the final part, you rub the cream on the bruise on his cheek. you press a kiss on the corner of his lips. “all done. go back to sleep.”

“let’s go,”

he hooks his arm under your knees, eager to carry you over to your side of the bed, but he gets interrupted by your protest.

“wait, wait, wait- i need to pee first.”

“wha- hurry!” he complains with a peeved frown, which you fail to catch a glimpse of because he has squeezed you taut against his body. “i won’t be able to sleep without you here.”

—

eternally cursed with the ability to feel too much of everything.

you push your back against the bathroom door, breathing heavy and labored as you blindly pat around for its lock. the click serves as the cue for your salty tears to drip from the edges of your eyelashes, cascading down, down, down your chin. some of them crash on the collar of your pajama top, the rest on the white tiled floor. this room is a stranger to your shipwreck, but old habits die hard.

the intense pressure of the water collides with the porcelain sink. rain and thunder and the gusts of wind being your gasps for air. an isolated storm undetected in the city of seoul you’re forced to brave alone, on the floor, tucked into yourself to protect the beating sacredness inside your ribcage. the sobs claw their way up your throat rather than soaring like exhales do.

no one has ever raised their hand at you. not even your parents. not even when you broke your grandmother’s precious china, or lost their big paper bills to the wind, or cursed at them for embarrassing you infront of your friends.

you want to be mad and say that juwon deserved what he got. you want to say that you hope his nose is broken. but you don’t know how one is supposed to react when something like that happens. you don’t know if it justifies everything after that. if the roles were reversed and you slapped him, won’t no one bat an eye?

…and you know jungkook has questions you still haven’t figured out how to answer. you know he now has reasons to doubt you. you know in his eyes, you may now be a hypocrite and not the advocate he adored. these days, you don’t really want to be seen as anything less or more than who you are, but you so desperately wish to be someone he is proud to love.

you feel mocked for even daring to dream of it.

“i’m tired, i’m tired, i’m tired.”

incoherent mumbles further stirs the unbridled chaos.

“i’m so sick of this. why… why do bad things keep happening to me?”

you don’t expect an answer but you yearn for some sort of meaning. you don’t mind suffering but you wish it could only be to an extent where you don’t have to fear.

echoes of rumbles and thunder. you’re nearer the sky but farther from heaven.

—

it’s been more than a week. you’ve been waking up with a gaping hole in the middle of your torso. you climb out of bed, cover up your cheek with make-up, good as new, and go about your day as if nothing happened. life on its own is already too much of a burden for you.

jungkook checks up on you everyday, though, despite his busy schedule. mostly through the phone, and whenever he can, he goes straight to where you are after work to dote on you no matter the time. he kisses you on the cheek, claims himself to have healing properties, and says i love you. and during those periods of time you were together, he hasn’t said another word about the incident. and it has been driving you absolutely insane.

you glance down at him, sat on the floor with an ipad balanced on top of his propped up knees, wearing one of your anti-radiation glasses as he finds himself absorbed in drawing the view a foot away from him. you.

“why do you keep looking at me?” he scolds you lightheartedly. “go back to studying so we can go to sleep.”

“can’t help it,” you mumble as you reposition your pen over the paper. you’ve been reorganizing your notes the whole night for your upcoming tests, but your mind keeps flying everywhere else. “my boyfriend’s too pretty.”

“ah, it can’t be helped then. sorry about that.” he smirks cockily, pulling the dramatics by switching his eyes between you and his back. “should… should i turn around then?”

“did you box again?”

the accusation is spat out before you can think twice.

“oh, you did. your knuckles are all messed up again.”

he pouts, crossing his legs. “but baby, i have to train... i wrapped my hands properly!”

“still,” you sigh. “can’t you just let them heal for a little while?”

you turn to the cabinet on your other side to bring out the pouch of healing ointments you’re now suspecting he brought and didn’t accidentally leave behind.

you lay out your hand, and jungkook puts his on top of yours, dragging himself close.

you both smile when you see that he has laid his hands over your thighs like he’s getting a manicure. silly boy. you pull them closer by his fingers so you can reach his red knuckles.

“why are you trying so hard?”

your finger is stained with his blood. your voice is as gentle as your touches, and that’s why it hurts.

jungkook doesn’t know either. he’s been trying to extinguish his leftover anger and bitterness through work and boxing— suppressing the onslaught of negative thoughts threatening to poison what the two of you have. jungkook doesn’t want to know. he doesn’t want anything to change. right now, he can’t afford them to.

“there’s no one to fight.”

“turns out there is,” he argues.

he regrets it as soon as your hand trembles.

“it’s okay… to ask. we’re in a relationship. you’re entitled to know things like that.” your eyes are unafraid again, and it scares him, like you’re always prepared to let him go. “i won’t get offended, or anything like that. if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“i trust you,” he says simply. “so i don’t need to know. especially if talking about it makes you uncomfortable. it’s okay… we’re okay, baby.”

stillness washes over the room like a tide that swallows everything up, and for a moment jungkook is convinced that the two of you will never bring it up again.

but the words you utter next are a punch to the gut.

they almost sound like a plead.

“but i can’t live my life that way, jungkook.”

strands of your hair descend to your face, framing it perfectly, but your eyes become hidden from view. you rip a bandaid open and blanket it over his two knuckles, still wounded as before, if not worse.

“if you intend to be with me for a long time, then i need you to need to know…” because there will be things i’d want to tell you, but wouldn’t feel the need to.

“then tell me,” he replies, prompted by a renewed determination. “i don’t just intend to be with you for a long time. i want way more than that.”

—

jungkook fiddles with the hello kitty bandaid using his thumb, mind reeling and grappling to process the overload of information told by your storytelling voice. all of a sudden, he’s grateful that you decided to lie down on the bed for this conversation.

“juwon was your boyfriend before me, no?”

“no, no, no. he was…” your lips part as if you have something more left to say, but you eventually give up. “yup, no.”

“so you found out that he’s been cheating on you for-for two mo-”

“three-”

“three months, and you…” he blinks. “slept with a stranger and let him catch you?”

“i was really petty. i was seventeen after all… my pride couldn’t take it. my friends- they tried to stop me but… but all i could think of was how to make him feel the way i was feeling.” your voice sounds small, smaller as you squeeze yourself into his side and curl up to hide your face. “so i let him think i was the bad guy.”

he understands that you were vengeful, but he doesn’t know if you comprehend the scale of what you have done.

“he looked so sad and hurt that i started to feel guilty. i don’t know if i was still acting when i was apologizing to him.” you scoff with eyebrows knitted together. “i felt so dirty… i still feel like a bad person, you know?”

you took the face of juwon’s demons and he didn’t like what he saw.

“i had it coming,” — he now has a grasp of what you meant before.

“so how has he been doing this to me for such a long time? how does he stomach it? knowing what i was going through? that’s what i thought… it makes me so upset…”

jungkook doesn’t try to assess you as you speak. he only listens, until your voice cracks. his heart is split into two as tears flood your eyes, escaping past the corners and slipping down to soak the fabric of his t-shirt.

you sniffle. “and the sex wasn’t even that great. i regret it even more.”

he flinches, abruptly squeezing his eyes shut. not that great? okay… okay. the mental image of you being physically intimate with someone that isn’t him definitely doesn’t sicken him to his core. at all. nope, nope, nope.

“fuck, baby, please,” he groans as if he is in pain, putting an arm over his eyes. “hearing about you have sex with other guys is making me want to punch something again. fuck.”

“that’s what you took away from the story?”

“yes!” he exclaims with conviction. “we should’ve met a year earlier. i would’ve let you use me!”

you gasp, scandalized. “oh my god! jungkook!”

“argh-” he animatedly clutches at his chest that caught your fist.

“you’re crazy!”

“uhuh, about you.” he proudly replies, pulling you closer to his side, as if that was still possible.

the subtle upwards of the corners of your lips gives him a sense of relief. he tenderly cups your cheek, his thumb ghosting over the bruise that has turned a darker shade of blue and purple.

“listen to me, i- i’m not here to tell you what’s right or wrong. i’m not that type of person. but what i can do tell you is that this…” he briefly shakes his head. “didn’t change the way i see you at all. he hurt you. he cheated and you were hurt, ____.”

your eyes gleam with uncertainty, a fresh wave of tears threatening to escape. “are you sure?”

“of course i am. why wouldn’t i be sure?”

“because you’re crazy about me.”

the sweet innocence of your eyelashes fluttering elicits a chuckle from him. you’re so fucking cute.

“that’s the reason i’m sure.” he tilts up your chin to plant a kiss to your lips, mumbling. “i’ve never been wrong about anything i’m crazy about.”

“thank you,” you say quietly, melting into his embrace. you nuzzle your face against his chest, and at last, you grant your eyes rest. “i can finally sleep peacefully again.”

fuck, it’s been weighing on you this whole time and he didn’t know.

“i’m sorry i only dated assholes before you.”

“aish, why would you be sorry about such a thing?” he kisses the top of your head, gentleness contradicting his following sentence. “i’d crush each one of those assholes for you.”

and he’d beat himself up the worst if he ever becomes one of them.

you yawn, sniffling right after. “mhm, i bet you will.”

he carefully rolls over to the side so he can wrap both arms around you, and you keen in contentment.

“jungkook?”

“yes, baby?” he coos.

“i… really… love you so, so, so much. you are… the one person i’d die for before i hurt.”

goddammit, it’s an angel sleeping in his arms.

“that’s a relief to hear. you’re very smart and scary when you’re mad.”

“eh, jungkook! i swear i’ve grown up! i’m not like that anymore!”

“okay, okay!” he laughs at your childish whining and squirming as he ushers you back in his embrace. “i believe you! i trust you! i love you too!”

—

although you spend more nights together in your apartment for your safety and convenience, in all honesty, you like staying over at jungkook’s more. his smell evokes the sentiment of home, and when you stay long enough, it becomes a temporary part of you. you’re gradually more well-versed in the organized and unorganized corners of his room. you like that you know where he keeps the safety pins and you know to be careful when walking so you won’t trip over his dumbbells he leaves lying around. and it’s a little ridiculous but… you like that his mattress is on the floor and you don’t really know why.

your boyfriend is still blissfully asleep as you climb over him, landing on the floor without a sound like a veteran spy. however, you rush to step out of the room before the rumbling of your empty stomach could wake him up.

“yah, thief! what do you think you’re doing?!”

“fuck!” the pack of ramen hits the floor when your hands fly to your chest to clutch at your painfully pounding heart. “i swear to god, you’re going to kill me one day!”

and unsurprisingly, your chagrin is countered yet again with jimin’s all too pleased laughter.

“____, you look so suspicious! why are you using a flashlight? we have electricity! we can pay for it!”

“i don’t like it too bright, okay?” you grumble as you pick up your supposed midnight meal.

“let’s just turn on this one then.”

“uh-” the objection dies down in your throat when the light over the dining table was switched on.

“i’m hungry, too. grab two more packs of ramyeon, please.”

“who’s the other one for?”

jimin fills the pot with water from the sink while you pick up two more of the same pack from the pantry.

“just us. don’t you agree that one pack is too small for one person?”

“it’s just enough for me though?” you rip open the packs one by one to retrieve the packets of seasonings. “with your job, though, i’d definitely have a bigger appetite.”

“alright,” he pouts, pretending to be upset. “let’s have just two then.”

“no, no, no-” you chase his hand, tightly gripping the last pack that he stole. “let’s have three! let’s have three! i didn’t eat dinner!”

—

“my mom brought a lot of kimchi yesterday. there’s an entire box in the fridge. i’ll pack you some before you leave later.”

“put some more in,” you say cutely as you peer down at the pot of ramen beside jimin. “please?”

he chuckles, adhering to your request before handing the container to you.

“thank you!”

you hop on the counter infront of the stove, chewing on a mouthful of kimchi with a joy akin to a child receiving a sweet treat. leaving the ramen to cook for the next five minutes, jimin sits a few feet away.

“aigoo, are you that hungry?”

“this is so delicious!” you praise his mother’s cooking instead of answering the question. “i can really eat this on its own.”

“ey, don’t fill yourself up yet! we have a lot of ramyeon to eat!”

“sorry, sorry!”

your giggles fill the apartment with warmth during this freezing winter. jimin didn’t doubt it when jungkook said that you light up every room you enter, he just didn’t expect that he would also gain a friend.

“how’s your cheek?”

“as you can see,” you motion at your face. “yellow. soooo… uglier.”

“that means it’s healing well.”

“i know,” the apples of your cheek become plump as your lips curve. “it no longer hurts to smile.”

“that’s a relief to hear,” he returns your kind smile. “jungkook has been worried about you.”

that’s the end of what he can tell you. jungkook won’t be pleased if you learn that he cried when he talked about the horrible thing that happened to you.

“thank you,”

“huh? for what?”

“being jungkook’s happiness.”

from his peripheral vision, he perceives your surprise. however, he is too flustered to meet your eyes while he is speaking from the bottom of his heart.

“the past year was physically and mentally draining for the team. as you know, we… we were considering giving up and disbanding. and of course it’s hard on all of us, but i’m really, really worried about jungkook. but!”

he chuckles at the dramatic rise of his own voice.

“i’m less worried now that you’re in his life. and i’m not saying this to put pressure on you or anything! but you see, when he’s tired, he bounces back quickly because of you. he’s smiling more because of you. and i know it goes it also goes the other way around. mhmm… i-i guess what i’m saying is that i hope you can continue being each other’s strength? be each other’s cheerleader?”

you have begun to feel emotional as you listened to his sincere and heartwarming words, but you can’t help but to cackle at the fact that you just witnessed the park jimin say the word ‘cheerleader’ while daintily waving his hands around as they were holding pompoms. how awfully endearing.

“…or something like that.”

uncontrollable giggles vibrate his body, dramatically slipping down the counter and onto the tiled floor to enshroud himself in extreme sheepishness.

“ah, ____! this is driving me crazy! don’t laugh!”

“what are you doing lying on the floor?” you playfully scold him, recording with your phone in secret. “why do i suddenly feel like the older one?”

“what’s with the noise?”

you whip your head around, wide curious eyes greeted with a shirtless jungkook who is still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“is that ramyeon…? i want some too.”

jimin groans when he feels your foot poke him lightly.

“mister, can we add more? my googie is hungry too.”

—

“hyung, ____ told me something recently that really put a lot of things into perspective.”

and with that, jimin pours another bottle of beer in his and jungkook’s ice-filled mugs. “let me hear it.”

“if you intend to be with me for a long time, then i need you to need to know. at first i didn’t understand what it meant? then after we talked, something clicked for me. ahhh, i see it now. ____ didn’t want us to trust each other blindly… because that… that isn’t a good… foundation? for something that i want to last for a very long time. you, me, the members… don’t we all trust each other because we know that we’re good people to our core and we’re good at what we do? isn’t that why we have come this far, and why we keep going? besides army, of course!”

jimin blinks lazily, glossy eyes from the alcohol underneath it all. “that’s right. we wouldn’t have started this anyway… without that kind of trust. i don’t think it’s a connection you can just build with anyone too.”

“oh, that’s it. that’s right!”

“living together for a long time doesn’t guarantee it.”

“exactly.” jungkook nods repeatedly, probably too passionately, a guaranteed ticket for a hangover later on. “we talked about that last time too.”

“right? so we should protect it… maintain it… never lose sight of our purpose…”

the lack of words that follow does not equate to silence. glasses clink against each other and teeth rip bags of chips open and noodles are slurped. they’re overseas and they can’t go to a korean restaurant and grill their own meat. the hotel steak would take forever to arrive and quite frankly, they had it yesterday and it was not good. this is not exactly ideal, but it has its own charm.

jungkook takes another swig of the bittersweet alcohol, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand afterwards.

“____ has become an important part of my life that i would do anything to protect too. how do i say it…?” he exhales to relieve the heavy weight on his chest. “i feel like i gained more purpose in life, hyung… to be honest, i might have a harder time because of that. i know it but… i’m happy. seriously, i’m happy.”

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taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

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#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook one shot #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

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sunonyoreface · 1 year

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One Cot - Simon “Ghost” Riley

Hi there, this story is a one shot about Simon Riley. I haven’t played COD before and I don’t know much about his character, but I love the thought of tough men being soft.

Summary: You help Ghost on a cold night and he returns the favour.

Word count: 2398

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: none, fluff.

Crews like task force 141 aren’t the type to pack extra cots. They don’t need them. Because crews like 141 don’t make a habit of bringing home extra bodies. There’s only ever one scenario when they have extra cots. Luckily for them, tonight’s not one of those nights.

For me, however, that means another night on the floor with my ankle cuffed to the bottom of one of their cots in case I try to run.

Although I’m deemed non-violent, I’m also a flight risk. According to them at least.

According to me, I have no clue where we are or how I’d even survive away from them. I’ve got no money, no ID, no map or compass, or even the slightest clue how I’d escape. Regardless, the cuffs stay on.

My wrists face the same fate. But my hands are free enough to rake them through my damp hair, working them through the tangles. It’s a soothing feeling of normalcy in this strange place.

In his cot on the other side of the room, Soap waits for one of the other boys to return from the showers and trade off babysitting duty.

One thing I can say is that chivalry is not dead, because they allowed me to shower first. Not that it matters all that much. There’s no hot water anyway so there isn’t much of a benefit in going first. But it’s the thought that counts.

Ghost is the first one back. It’s strange not seeing him wear layers upon layers of tactical gear. Instead, he only wears dark jeans and a black henley. And the balaclava too. I’ve yet to see him take it off. I wouldn’t be surprised if he showered with it on. I don’t know that the other guys have seen him take it off either. They make comments sometimes, little jabs and jokes about how it never comes off. Ghost hardly notices though. Or maybe I should say hardly reacts. He’s stoic through it all, preventing any emotions from breaking through.

Soap leaves without a word. They understand their positions. So well, that half the time I think they’re communicating through their thoughts.

Ghost places a duffel bag on the cot I’m cuffed to. I sit cross-legged on a blanket on the floor as he ruffles through it.

His strong form towers over me two feet away. Ghost doesn’t make eye contact as I watch him search through the bag. He’s less threatening without the bulky gear and a gun in his hand. But that mask is still terrifying enough to find its way into your dreams.

However, it's not the mask that sets me on edge around Ghost, it’s his eyes. They’re cold and unwavering, giving away nothing. They’re the eyes of a killer. Of someone who enjoys inflicting pain. Of someone whose been in so much pain himself, his only release is passing it on to others.

He hasn’t bothered me that much since my first day with them all. Back when he was ready to put me down like a lame horse. I was a loose end that needed to be tied up. Still am, if I’m being honest. Price stopped him, but if it was up to Ghost, I’d have been dead for days now. Even now, I’m sure part of him wants to kill me knowing it’s the more logical option. But until then, he’s under orders to keep me alive.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’ve got a staring problem?” His rough voice breaks the silence. He rarely acknowledges me so for him to speak up must mean I’ve struck a nerve. My mouth suddenly feels dry.

“Just you,” I say. “Sorry.”

But I don’t look away. I continue to watch him search through the bag. I don’t know what he’s looking for but he can’t seem to find it. The tight sleeves of the Henley hug his strong arms. Even through the fabric, I can see the defined lines of his muscles. His posture is nearly perfect and his movements could almost be considered robotic.

“What’re you looking for?” He doesn’t seem like the type of person to misplace his things.

“Nothing,” he responds bluntly.

“Maybe it fell behind the cot. I can check for you?” I offer.

“Negative.”

“Are you sure beca-“

“Stop talking, y/n,” he snaps. I flinch at his response. As he says this he finally makes eye contact with me and I regret ever looking at him. There’s an anger in his eyes that no man I’ve ever met has been able to match. A deep-rooted hatred for the world and all of its inhabitants. It’s not a look that you’re born with. It’s one that’s carved from years of pain and betrayal. He’s witnessed the type of things that would break most people. The intensity of his gaze is too much. I break eye contact to stare at the floor.

Fine. I won’t try to help.

I lean against the cement wall and try to think about anything else. I press my hands to the inside of my thighs in an attempt to warm them up.

When they found me I was only in ripped shorts and a ratty tank top with nothing else to my name.

Since then some of the men spared me a set of long johns, a long sleeve shirt, and a pair of thick socks. I’m not allowed shoes in case I try and take off. It’s better than what I had but the warehouse is cold and the cement floor seems to suck out any heat my body produces.

Ghost angrily zips up the duffel bag and tosses it on the floor at the other end of the cot. I watch the bag skid for a foot before finally coming to a stop.

He climbs onto the cot with a dissatisfied grunt. Ghost sleeps with his head on the far side of the cot and his feet at the end I’m cuffed to. He doesn’t take his shoes off. None of them do. In fact, I’m surprised he isn’t sleeping with more gear on. Some days they’ll all sleep in their tactical gear as if they’re waiting to be attacked. Part of me is relieved they don’t feel as though that’s a threat tonight.

I can hear voices echo down the halls. Some of the others must be done in the showers.

I lie down on my makeshift bed: a pillow and a blanket that I fold in half to act as a mattress and duvet.

When I lie down, however, something shiny catches my eye under Ghost’s cot.

It’s a tiny chain. A necklace.

On my hands and knees, I crawl under his cot to grab the necklace.

“What’re you doing?” Ghost mumbles above me. I hear him shift his weight against the rough canvas fabric.

When I back out from under the cot, he’s sitting with his legs off the edge. Suspiciously eyeing my movements. His right hand is in one of his pant pockets probably wrapped around a knife in case I try something.

I kneel in front of the bed beside his legs. My damp hair clings to my neck and the tip of my nose is red and cold.

I raise the chain up to Ghost. His eyes latch on immediately.

“Is this it?” I ask. He eyes me suspiciously. I see him searching for any signs of deceit. Maybe I lied to him and hid the chain from him. Maybe I pickpocketed him before he went to shower. But I didn’t do any of those things. I hold his eye contact this time. His brows soften ever so slightly. It seems to be enough.

Ghost doesn’t say anything. Instead, he simply grabs the chain from my hand. His fingers brush against my palm as he scoops it up. He examines it a moment before slipping it over his neck and tucking it under his shirt.

I don’t know why but I was hoping for a thank you. Or at least an acknowledgment that I’d helped. But Ghost remains silent. At the same time, the voices reach the room. Roach and Gaz round the corner from the hallway.

At their entrance, I turn back to my makeshift bed and pretend to sleep. It’s not that I don’t like them - although I don’t, in fact, I don’t like any of them - but I don’t have the energy for more questions from them tonight.

I hear Ghost shift in his cot and it seems our thoughts are on the same track.

As hard as I try, sleep doesn’t come. They shut off the main lights over an hour ago, yet I still haven’t calmed down enough to drift off. It doesn’t help that I can’t stop shivering from the cold.

The warehouse remains utterly silent except for the light snores and breathing of the men. Only the emergency lights fill the corners of the room with dim, orange light. They’re almost comforting in a way.

I pull the single blanket tighter around my shoulders and ball up even smaller if that’s possible, but nothing helps. My bones shake and my teeth rattle. If only I had another blanket.

The cot next to me creaks as Ghost shifts in his sleep. It creaks some more and then I notice he’s sitting up.

Ghost spares a glance in my direction as he rummages through his pocket for something.

Something silver glints in the light and I realize it’s a key. He wordlessly tosses it in my direction and by some stroke of luck, I catch it mid-air.

It’s the key to the cuffs. I spare an uneasy glance in his direction. He wants me to uncuff myself?

Ghost doesn’t react. Instead, he watches as I process my thoughts, as I push through my weariness and unlock my ankles first before freeing my wrists.

I reach to pass the key back to him but instead of grabbing the key, his large hand wraps completely around my wrist and tugs me in close.

I’m face to face with him as his other hand wraps around my jaw so I can’t pull away.

“If you try to run, I’ll kill you,” his low voice is barely above a whisper. The edge to his tone makes the threat feel all the more real.

“Okay,” I nod in response. My heart is racing and I feel the blood rush to my cheeks.

“Come here. Bring your blanket,” he motions to the cot. I spare a glance at the narrow bed. Surely he doesn’t want to share it with me? There’s barely enough room for one person let alone two.

“I don’t know,” I whisper back as though it’s an option. I don’t know where he’s going with this suggestion and I don’t think I trust him.

“That’s an order, y/n,” his response does nothing to ease my soul, but I grab my blanket anyway and crawl onto the cot.

It’s now he notices my hesitancy. How I purposely leave space between us on the bed. That I’m unsure of why he wants me up here. The fogginess of his intentions.

“I can't sleep with the sound of your teeth rattling in my ears all night,” nothing changes in my expression so he tries again, his tone softer this time. “You’re safe, y/n. I’m safe. Nothing’s going to happen.”

I sigh in relief but don’t say anything in response. He knows.

“C’mere,” he lifts the blanket for me to slide in. The warmth immediately welcomes me into the space.

The cot is more narrow than a twin mattress and leaves little to no wiggle room for two people. I’m pressed tightly into Ghost's chest as his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me closer and preventing me from falling off.

I thought I’d be tense but the heat under the blankets completely relaxes me. I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck. His balaclava is soft against my cheek. I hear his breathing pick start to pick up. I can feel his chest expand deeper than before.

“Thank you,” my voice is barely audible, but I know he heard.

As I adjust to our proximity, I breathe in the scents that linger on his skin and in his clothes. I can smell the same standard citrusy shampoo on him as myself and the rest of the crew use. But there’s also a remainder of smoke and gunpowder from the day’s work. There’s something else more unique to him and yet I can’t put my finger on it. I take a deep breath and allow myself to revel in the calming smells. This shouldn’t be comforting and yet it is.

Nothing about this situation should be comforting and yet I feel safer than I have in weeks.

Wrapped in Ghost's arms, I know nothing else in the world can get to me. My only danger is the man who holds me. Yet I know in this instance after he’s sacrificed his space and his bed for me, that I’ve got nothing to worry about.

Ghost shifts against the canvas again. This time pulling me on top of him as he spreads out across his cot. He wraps his arms around my back he readjusts for the final time. I feel so small on top of him. Ghost spreads a hand out across my lower back and it feels as though it takes up the entire width of the space. His thumb soothingly brushes back and forth along the arch of my spine.

I lay my head on his chest and listen to the thrum of his heart. It beats strong and steady like a bass drum. I feel myself relaxing even more as my breathing starts to match his. I feel myself start to drift as my head lulls with his chest when it rises and falls.

For the first time in a long time, I don’t worry about what tomorrow brings. I’m so content in his arms that I don’t think about what’s next. All that fills my mind is the strength of his heartbeat and the distant scent of gunpowder. The last thing I think about before finally nodding off is the feeling of his thumb brushing up and down along my back, letting me know everything is going to be alright.

Edit+A/N: I have never received this much attention on a story before so thank you!! When I have time should I write more for Ghost?

Fic based on this concept:

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secretmellowblog · 6 months

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Another reason I dislike Les Mis adaptations that make Jean Valjean constantly openly angry/violent is because they miss that Jean Valjean is not allowed to be angry. The fact he is forbidden from expressing anger is, I argue, actually a very important part of his character in the novel!

One of the subtler political messages of the story is that some people are given freedom to express anger, while others are forced to be excessively meek and conciliatory in order to survive.

Wealthy conservatives like Monsieur Gillenormand can “fly into rages” every five minutes and have it treated as an endearing quirk. Poor characters like Fantine or Jean Valjean must be constantly polite and ingratiating to “their superiors” at all times, even in the face of mockery and violence, or else they will be subjected to punishment. If Gillenormand beats his child with a stick, it’s a silly quirk; if Fantine beats a man harassing her, she is sentenced to months in prison.

(Thenardier and Javert are interesting examples of this too. Thenardier acts superficially polite and ingratiating to his wealthy “superiors” while insulting them behind their backs. Javert, meanwhile, is completely earnest in his mindless bootlicking. But I could write an entire other post on this.)

The point is that….Jean Valjean has to be submissive and self-effacing, or he puts himself in danger. He can’t afford to be angry and make scenes, or he will be punished. The only barrier between himself and prison is his ability to be so “courteous” that no one bothers to pry into his past.

Jean Valjean is excessively polite to people, in the way that you’re excessively polite to an armed cop who pulls you over for speeding when you secretly have a few illegal grams of marijuana in the your car trunk. XD It’s politeness built on fear, is what I mean. It’s politeness built on a desperation to make a powerful person avoid looking too closely at you.

It’s politeness at gunpoint.

Jean Valjean has also spent nineteen years living in an environment where any expression of anger could be punished with severe violence. That trauma is reflected in the overly cautious reserved way he often speaks with people (even people who are kind and would never actually hurt him.)

So adaptations that have Jean Valjean boldly having shouting matches with people in public and beating cops half to death without worrying about the repercussions just make go like “???”

Because that’s part of what’s fascinating about Jean Valjean to me? On one hand, he is a genuinely kind compassionate person, who cares deeply about other people and behaves kindly out of altruism. But on the other hand, he was also “beaten into submission” by prison, and forced into adopting conciliatory bootlicking behaviors in order to survive. And it can sometimes be hard to tell when he is being kind vs. when he is being “polite” — when he is speaking and acting out of earnest compassion vs. when he is speaking and acting out of fear.

The TL;DR is that I think it’s important that even though Jean Valjean is very (justifiably) angry about the injustice that was inflicted on him, his anger is harshly policed at all times— by other people, and by himself. He has been told his anger is wrong/selfish so often that he believes it. His anger takes weirder more unhealthy forms because he has no safe outlet for it. His rage at society becomes a possessiveness towards Cosette and silent hatred of Marius, but primarily it becomes useless self-destructive constant hatred of himself. And while I might be phrasing this wrong, I think that’s what’s interesting about Jean Valjean’s relationship with anger— the way his justified fury at his own mistreatment gets warped into more and more unhealthy forms by the way he’s forced to constantly repress it.

#les mis #les mis letters #jean valjean #don’t mind me just Valjeanposting #you know I’m doing okay when I’m Valjeanposting #but yeah I can’t remember the first person who started talking about this concept with me #(it was years ago)#but now I think about it constantly #when you read the book looking through that lens #of certain charcaters being forced to act conciliatory and polite ‘under threat of violence’#you notice it constantly #it’s such a running Thing #and you could write tons of posts about it on www.tumblr.com

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rynwritesreid · 6 months

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You’re on your own| Spencer Reid

Summary: After releasing Spencer will never love you back, you take some time of work to work on your mental health. However, an unsub the team have been working to find, finds you first.

Content: Fem!reader. Threats against life. Mention of weapons. Mention of blood. It’s full of angst (I guess some fluff but not much). This is a bit darker than anything else I’ve written before, but I really enjoyed writing this one. So, I hope you enjoy

A/N: I have written another fic like this called-shattered reflections. If you enjoy this one, you might like that one.

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

4.3k words

You had been in love with Spencer from the moment you had laid your eyes on him, but he most definitely didn’t feel the same way. He had been on dates or fallen in love with serval women while you had known him, and you had just come to terms that you two would never happen, so you just started looking elsewhere.

At work you barely interacted with him anymore. You two weren’t the greatest friends to start off with, but now you only talked to him when necessary. Everyone, but him, had noticed. Luke asked if you two had had an argument or something, but you just shrugged him off. Emily and JJ asked if everything was alright, which you would always say “yes, I don’t know why you don’t think everything if alright.”

You were only ignoring him to get over your crush, but you were always seemingly pushing away all of your friends in the process. Emily, JJ, Tara, Luke, and Penelope now never mentioned Spencer around you. They all knew something was going on, but didn’t want to ask, and all you really wanted to do was rant how he never seemed to realise you were right there in front of him.

After one practically gruelling case you didn’t speak a word to any of your friends/team while on the flight back, or while in the Quantico. Once you were in the safety of your apartment you burst into tears, wondering if you were ever going to be good enough for anyone. JJ text you asking if you were okay as you seemed abnormally quiet. You didn’t reply. You didn’t want to push anyone away, but this is what you did when you were down.

You ignored everyone for the days you had off, putting dnd on your phone. You barely left your apartment and would order food, so you didn’t have to grocery shopping. What you didn’t expect to happen was for Spencer to message you.

“Hey, I was wondering if I’ve done something wrong. You haven’t talked to me for a while. You haven’t really talked to anyone. But if I have done something wrong, please tell me.”

You wondered if someone had asked him to text you, but you didn’t reply. You just read of the message. He didn’t send another one. But everyone else was constantly checking in on you. You felt bad, but you just didn’t have the energy to reply to them.

Once you had returned to work, you said sorry to everyone (but Spencer) for ignoring them and just explained the case hit you hard. Spencer kept looking at you, half expecting you to apologise to him, but you simply just ignored him. He asked everyone why you were doing this, but they all told him they didn’t have a clue.

When everyone else had gone to get some lunch, Spencer came up to you.

“Hey, are you okay? You have ignored me all day, you didn’t reply to my message. You haven’t even looked in my direction. What have I done?” He seemed defeated. His voice, while it wasn’t filled with pain and sadness, wasn’t exactly a happy voice.

“Spencer, you haven’t done anything. I just want to be alone. Please, go back to your desk.” It was a short reply, you didn’t look up at him, or acknowledge his presence.

He left, and he didn’t say anything to you. He ignored you, like you ignored him. Everyone was worried, wondering what had happened. Questioning if everything was okay, but like always, you shrugged them off.

You hated how you felt, and how you were treating everyone else. Emily suggested, because of your recent behaviour, you take some time off. She wasn’t forcing you too, but both you and her knew it would be for the best. You reluctantly agreed. You did feel like a burden to everyone around you, you felt like you were pulling them down with, which you knew was unfair.

As you left the BAU, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything going on around you. You knew deep down that you couldn't keep going on like this. You needed to sort out your feelings and deal with your emotions before you could come back and face everyone again.

The first few days of your break were difficult. You couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt that was hanging over you like a dark cloud. You spent most of your days in bed, scrolling through social media, and thinking about all the missed opportunities you had with Spencer. You even considered reaching out to him to apologize, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. It was like your pride was holding you back, and you didn't know how to let go of it.

You knew you needed to go outside at one point, even if it was just for a little walk. As you stepped out of your apartment building, the sun hit your face, and you closed your eyes for a moment, soaking in the warmth. You took a deep breath and started walking towards the shops. You could hear the birds chirping, and it was as if the world had come alive. You felt a sense of peace wash over you, and you realized that maybe taking a break was exactly what you needed.

After you had picked up some groceries, you walked to one of your favourite parks. You sat on a bench and decided to people watch and make up little stories about the people walking by. You watched people chase after their dogs, and friends share jokes and laughs. It felt tranquil, a moment of bliss in a world full of chaos. You hadn’t replied to anyone, but I think everyone was expecting that.

You walked back to your apartment, the peace you once felt had gone. You had a feeling of dreed, like something awful was about to happen to you. You looked around, making sure no one was following you or watching you from a far. You didn’t notice anyone, but you couldn’t put your feelings aside.

Just as you were about to reach your apartment, you heard footsteps behind you. You quickly turned around, but no one was there. You shrugged it off, thinking it was just your imagination playing tricks on you. However, a few minutes later, you heard the footsteps again. This time, they were louder and more distinct. Your heart started racing as you began to feel a sense of panic. You picked up your pace, trying to get to your apartment building as quickly as possible.

You had reached the safety of your apartment, making sure you had locked the door. You turned on the TV, just to make your apartment less quiet and so that your mind couldn’t wonder. As you sat on your couch, you couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was watching you. You tried to convince yourself that it was just your imagination, but the more you tried to ignore it, the stronger the feeling became. You stood up and walked towards the door, peering through the peephole, but you couldn't see anyone outside.

Just as you were about to turn away from the door, you saw a figure in the corner of your eye. You quickly turned back to the peephole, but the figure was gone. You backed away from the door, heart racing and palms sweating.

You decided to call Emily, hoping that she would answer and calm you down. She picked up after a few rings, and you could tell from her voice that she was worried.

“Are you okay? What’s going on?” Emily asked.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. “I don’t know, Emily. I just have this feeling that someone is watching me. I went to the park near where I live, and when I started walking back home, I got this sudden feeling that someone was following me. I don’t want to seem paranoid, but I just can’t shake this feeling.”

“Okay. Do you want me to come over?”

“No, I don’t think so. I just wanted to tell someone. I kind of wanted you to tell me I sounded stupid and that of course you feel like this, you work to catch bad people all the time, these feelings are normal.”

Emily was quiet for a moment before speaking in a calm and reassuring voice. "It's okay to feel scared sometimes. It doesn't make you stupid. And you're right, we catch bad people for a living, so it's normal to feel like this. But if you want, I can come over and we can talk about it more."

You felt relieved that Emily didn’t think you were stupid, but you didn’t want to be a burden to her. “No, Em. It’s fine. I’ll text you later.”

“Okay. But if you keep feeling like this, call me again and I’ll come straight over.” Emily hung up after saying that.

You turned back on your TV and make some food. Though the feeling persisted, you didn’t call Emily again, you really didn’t want to course any problems for her or be a burden.

As the night progressed, the feeling of being watched only grew stronger. You tried to shake it off and distract yourself with TV shows and books, but nothing seemed to help. You couldn't dismiss the nagging sensation of being followed or watched.

You decided to take matters into your own hands and investigate. It was a risky move, but you couldn't just sit around waiting for something to happen. You quickly grabbed your coat and left your apartment, determined to find out who or what was causing these feelings of dread.

As you walked down the dimly lit street, you kept looking over your shoulder, trying to spot anyone suspicious. You tried to act casual, but you couldn't shake off the feeling that you were being followed. You quickened your pace, hoping to reach the end of the street before anything could happen.

Just as you turned the corner, you saw a shadowy figure standing in the middle of the road. Your heart skipped a beat, and you froze in place. The figure started moving towards you, and you could hear its heavy breathing.

You tried to run, but your legs felt like they were made of lead. The figure was getting closer and closer, and you could feel it’s hot breath on your neck. You turned around to face your attacker, but before you could even get a good look at them, they grabbed you and pulled you into an alleyway. You tried to scream, but their hand was firmly over your mouth, muffling any sound.

You struggled against your attacker, but their grip was too strong. You could feel their body pressing against yours, and you knew that you were in danger.

You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down and think of a way out of the situation. As you opened your eyes, you saw the glint of a knife in the attacker's hand. You knew then that you were in grave danger and started to panic.

The attacker pushed you up against the wall, the knife now pressed against your throat. You could feel the cold metal against your skin, and you shuddered in fear.

“Don't. Move.” The attacker's voice was low and menacing, and you knew that they weren't going to let you go without a fight.

You tried to reason with them, to plead for your life. “Please...let me go...I won't tell anyone...”

The attacker chuckled darkly, and you knew that your words had fallen on deaf ears. They leaned in closer, their breath hot against your face. “Oh, I know you won't tell anyone. Even if you did, they wouldn’t care. You’ve pushed them all away, and now they don’t care about you.”

Your heart sank at the attacker's words. They were right - you had been pushing people away, isolating yourself from those who cared about you. But you didn't deserve to die for it. You mustered up all of your courage and looked the attacker straight in the eye.

"Please, I don't want to die," you said, your voice trembling. "I'll do anything. Just let me go."

“Anything, huh? God, hearing, an FBI agent beg for their life isn’t something I thought I’d ever hear. But here is what is going to happen. You’re going to come with me, not making a sound, and you are going to help me out. Okay?”

The attacker loosened their grip on you, and you took the opportunity to nod your head in agreement. You didn't know what they wanted from you, but you knew that you had to do whatever it took to stay alive. You were an FBI agent; you were trained for these situations. You knew how to fight, but right now you were a victim, one who hadn’t be specially trained, one who didn’t know how to handle these types of situations and one who, apparently, had no friends left who would help them out or who cared about them.

The attacker led you deeper into the alleyway, their grip firm on your arm. You tried to think of a way out of this, but your mind was blank. You were scared, and you didn't know what was going to happen to you.

As you walked, you noticed that the walls of the alleyway were covered in graffiti. You saw a message scrawled on the wall in bright red paint and gasped. It was a message from the notorious serial killer, the one that you had been tracking for months. This couldn't be a coincidence.

You turned to the attacker, your heart racing. "Are you working for him? Are you his accomplice?"

The attacker smirked. "Why don't you come with me and find out?"

You had a feeling that this wasn't going to end well, but you knew that you had to keep your wits about you if you were going to get out of this alive.

You followed the attacker through the alleyway, your mind racing as you tried to come up with a plan. You didn't know who this person was or what they wanted, but you knew that you had to stay alert and focused if you were going to make it out of this alive.

The attacker led you to a rundown building on the outskirts of town. They pushed you inside and closed the door behind you. You found yourself in a dimly lit room, the walls covered in damp and mould.

The attacker sat down on a chair in the corner of the room, watching you with a cold and calculated gaze. You could feel their eyes on you, and you knew that you were in danger.

"What do you want from me?" you asked, your voice shaking.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to murder anyone. I want you to be a warning to the rest of your team, not to come looking for me. They’ve been working on my case while you’ve been away, and I don’t want them too anymore. So, you, are going to be warning.”

You felt a chill run down your spine at the attacker's words. They wanted to use you as a warning to your own team. It was a sick and twisted plan, and you knew that you couldn't let it happen.

"I won't be a part of this," you said firmly. "I won't let you use me as a pawn in your twisted game."

The attacker laughed, standing up from their chair and walking towards you. "Oh, but you don't have a choice, do you? You either do what I say, or you die. It's that simple."

You stood your ground, staring the attacker straight in the eye. "I'd rather die than become a part of your sick game."

The attacker shrugged. "Suit yourself." They pulled out the knife and lunged towards you. He stabbed you, just above your heart. You felt you self-losing hope, even if this one wasn’t fatal, you knew he wouldn’t stop till you were dead. You felt yourself slump to the floor, you knew it wasn’t going to be long till you lost consciousness, you had no fight left in you.

As you lay there dying, you thought about all the people you had pushed away. You regretted not reaching out to them, not telling them how much you loved them. You wished you had spent more time with them, made more memories.

But it was too late for that now. You closed your eyes, accepting your fate. You wished that you had told Spencer how you felt, and you couldn’t believe that was going to be one of your last thoughts. You heard the man walk away. You felt so weak, you had nothing last. You just gave up, knowing that no one now would really care that you had gone.

Emily had grown worried. You hadn’t texted or called her back. She thought you would have by now. She decided to go to your apartment to check on you. As she walked up to your door, she could hear your phone ringing through the door. She knocked, but there was no answer. Worried, she used her spare key to let herself in.

As she walked into your living room, she saw your phone lying on the coffee table. It was Spencer calling, and Emily knew that something was wrong. She called your name, but no reply. She searched your entire apartment looking for you, but you were nowhere. She called JJ to see if she had heard from you, but the last she heard anything from you was when you were last in the office. Everyone else had the same answer when she called them.

She asked the team to come over, to see if they could spot anything she couldn’t. Everyone was worried about you. As the team arrived, they saw Emily pacing around the living room, phone in hand. She quickly filled them in on her worries and the fact that you were missing. She explained how you had called her earlier saying that you thought someone was watching you, and that you would call her if anything happened.

Spencer was the one to look in your bedroom, as he was searching, he kept thinking how he thought this was somehow his fault. He saw the pictures you had around your room of you and your old college friends, or family pets. But there was no evidence in there of anything. JJ had suggested that you had gone somewhere, but Emily said you wouldn’t go anywhere with your phone. Rossi tried to suggest that maybe you left your phone so that they wouldn’t be able to trace you, but Emily said that was stupid considering that call she had received earlier. Luke and Tara just kept pacing around your apartment, looking for anything, but they found nothing.

As the team continued to search your apartment, the sound of Emily's phone ringing filled the silence. She answered it quickly, hoping that it would be you on the other end of the line.

"Hello?" Emily said, her voice shaking slightly.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and then a voice spoke. It was distorted, and Emily couldn't make out what it was saying.

"Who is this?" Emily demanded, her heart racing.

The voice spoke again, and this time Emily could hear it more clearly. "You'll find your friend in an alleyway on the outskirts of town," the voice said. "But you better hurry. She doesn't have much time left."

Emily's heart sank as she hung up the phone. The team looked at her, fear etched on their faces.

"We have to go find her," JJ said, her voice determined.

The team rushed out of your apartment and into the streets, determined to find you before it was too late. They piled into their cars and sped towards the location that the voice had mentioned.

As they arrived at the alleyway, they saw a figure lying motionless on the ground. They rushed towards you, praying that it wasn't too late. As they got closer, they saw the blood seeping out of your body and onto the pavement. They knew that they didn't have much time.

Spencer checked for a pulse, and thankfully, there was one. They had to act quickly to save you. Rossi called for an ambulance, while JJ and Tara tried to stop the bleeding. Emily sat by your side, holding your hand tightly and praying that you would make it.

As the ambulance arrived, the team helped load you onto the gurney. Emily rode with you to the hospital, holding your hand the entire way. She couldn't bear the thought of losing you. She thought about all the times you had laughed together, shared secrets and dreams. She couldn't imagine a world without you in it.

As the doctors rushed you into surgery, the team waited anxiously in the waiting room. They didn't know if you would make it or not, but they knew they had to have faith. They sat together, silent, and scared, waiting for any news.

No one could bear the thought of losing you, you were always there for them. Not long ago you would have answered their calls and listened to them rant about everything and anything. Spencer, though, felt the worst out of all of them. He was good at his job, he had known for some time that you had feelings for him, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have any for you, but he didn’t want to lose someone else he loved. He silently cried, hoping you would make it.

As the hours ticked by, the team was filled with anxiety and worry. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the surgeon emerged from the operating room.

"Is she okay?" Emily asked, her voice trembling.

The surgeon sighed. "She's stable, but it was touch and go for a while. We managed to stop the bleeding, but the knife wound was deep. She's still in critical condition, but we're hopeful that she'll make a full recovery."

The team breathed a collective sigh of relief. They knew that you still had a long road ahead of you, but at least you were alive. They thanked the surgeon and waited patiently for you to be brought to a room.

As they sat by your bedside, they could see the machines monitoring your vitals. They could hear the steady beeping of the heart monitor, and they knew that it was a good sign. Emily held your hand tightly, tears streaming down her face.

Spencer watched from the corner of the room, his heart heavy with guilt and regret. He wished he had told you how he felt sooner before it was almost too late. He wished he had been the one to protect you from harm, instead of the one who inadvertently caused it. He knew he had a lot to make up for if you were to recover.

In the days that followed, the team took turns staying by your side, never leaving you alone for a moment. They brought you flowers, cards, and small gifts, hoping to bring some comfort during your recovery. Spencer was always there, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement. He was determined to make things right with you, to show you how much he cared.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you opened your eyes. You saw the team surrounding you, and Spencer's face filled with relief. You tried to speak, but your throat felt dry and sore. Emily handed you some water.

As you took a sip of water, you looked around the room and saw the worried faces of your team. You knew that something bad had happened, but you couldn't remember what it was. You tried to speak again, but your throat was still too sore.

Emily leaned in closer to you. "You were attacked," she said softly. "But you're going to be okay."

As the memories flooded back, you felt a wave of fear wash over you. You remembered the pain of being stabbed and the feeling of helplessness as you lay bleeding on the ground. But as you looked around the room, you saw the love and support of your friends, and you knew that you weren't alone.

Spencer leaned in close to you. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I should have protected you."

You shook your head weakly. "It wasn't your fault," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

But Spencer wouldn’t hear it. “But you took time off because of me, and don’t pretend you didn’t. If, if I had said anything to you, then you wouldn’t have done that and you wouldn’t be laying in this hospital bed.”

“Spencer, please don’t blame yourself. None of this is your fault, and you didn’t need to say anything to me. Sometimes the person you love doesn’t love you back and that’s okay. But the man who did this got into my head and told me I was on my own, and that you guys didn’t care about, and that I pushed you all away. I’m so sorry for how I treated you.”

Spencer squeezed your hand. "You have nothing to apologize for. We're just glad you're okay."

You smiled weakly at him, grateful for his kind words. You knew that it would take time to heal both physically and emotionally, but you also knew that you had the support of your friends.

Join my taglist

#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction

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imasoftieforbarb · 6 months

Note

reactions and headcanons of brozone about: how would they fell about y/n having an egg?(once married ofc) sorry if too much

John Dory

Definitely hubby material

Van life with you and him?

Chef kiss

He definitely gives malewife vibes

Because he’s so used to being the responsible one

But he also deserves a break so you split all the chores in half

You surprise him with your pregnancy announcement by giving him a cup that says “worlds greatest Dad”

He’s shocked

Like he goes still and you worry- what if he doesn’t want children? It wasn’t a planned thing

And then he just scoops you up in arms and twirls you around

So many happy tears

Instantly tells everyone possible he’s gonna be a dad

That might is now his favorite mug- but he refuses to use it until the baby is born

Those chores that you split? He is now taking on all of them so you can focus on the baby

Likes to speak to the egg, honestly he’s so sweet with it

Definitely plays brozone through headphones around the egg (“John what are you doing?” “I want them to have good taste”)

Clay

He gave up his admin house for you

Y’all still live in Putt Putt village (because I say so)

Viva moves to Pop village so he goes from co runner to leader

So y’all get her room/house

Being married to Clay is so chill

He’s so sweet and literally talks about you non stop even though more often that not you’re with him whilst he’s working

He found out about the pregnancy when you gave him a mini matching green sweater romper

He was like

“Thanks! Not sure if it’ll fit me but I love it anyway!”

It takes him a moment

He leaves the room then runs back in pointing at you like he’s in law and order

“YOURE PREGNANT?!?”

You are now on permanent bed rest

Likes to baby talk to the egg and sing it songs

Buys the new furniture immediately and then starts baby proofing the house

He’s determined to give this kid the best childhood

Bruce

When he marries you, that’s when he decides to change his name to Bruce

Y’all still open the restaurant on Vaycay island

You become the cutest couple on the island so fast

BEACH WEDDING

He definitely tears up whilst reading his vows

“Oh I’m crying…” *you pass him a q-tip* “what’s a q-tip gonna do?!”

Treats you like a queen

Another malewife vibe haver

But it’s not as strong

Y’all were already planning on having a big family

So when you tell him you’re having twins by making dinner, but putting two lil high chairs by the door

He sees them

And goes WILD

“What- is that? Does that mean? TWINS?!?!”

He’s so happy, so many happy tears whilst y’all hug

“Uh- honey? Who’s watching the stove?” “Oh shit…”

Floyd

Dedicated husband fr fR

Has photos of you everywhere

Gets drunk and gets so happy when you tell him you’re his wife not his girlfriend

“THis IS myY WiFE”

Everyone knows don’t worry

Always talked about having kids but didn’t plan for it

Well he did (but only in his lil dreams)

Then one day you made his dreams come true

He got home from hanging out with Branch

(Who you’d asked to keep him distracted)

And he comes home to a really big home cooked meal

And a decorated boiled egg

He goes to eat said egg- but you tell him to break it open

“Why?” “It’s a surprise hun- I’m not supposed to tell you”

Inside is a lil parenting book called ‘daddy and I’

Silence, smile on his face

Tears rolling down his face before he stands up and walked over to you putting the book down on the table

Wraps you up in a such a soft hug that you start crying too

Peppers kisses all over your face

“You really do make my dreams come true”

Doesn’t tell his brothers immediately- wants you to himself

Makes sure you’re careful with doing everything

Just likes to lie down on the bed with you and the egg and put his hand softly on the surface (he cries a lil bit everytime)

When he eventually tells people- it’s completely by accident

#brozone #brozone x reader #trolls band together #trolls floyd #trolls Floyd x reader #brozone floyd #brozone floyd x reader #brozone john dory x reader #brozone bruce x reader #brozone clay x reader #brozone clay #trolls clay x reader #trolls jd x reader #trolls john dory #trolls bruce #trolls bruce x reader

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tlouwhore · 4 months

Text

modern!ellie headcanons

notes/warnings: pet names used (baby), sfw, loser!ellie a little (i cant help it), no race specific information, androgynous reader

★ she has an insane mug collection thats so strange, when you go to hers for the first time its such a weird thing

"you want something to drink?"

"sure"

and you'll go back to messing with her stuff that she left sprawled across her coffee table until you hear her clomp over and extend her arm, she'll be holding an inconveniently built mug out to you casually

"els, what the fuck is that?"

she tilts her head and furrows her brow, confused at your comment as if its unreasonable to ask why shes handing you a horrifically constructed alien mug thats bound to spill all over you

★ speaking of these mugs, she refuses to get rid of *any* of them. when you guys move in together you're begging her to just get rid of one but she refuses

"els, please. we dont have enough shelves for these, we need normal drinking glasses."

you sigh as the mugs sit across the kitchen counter, shes on one side staring at them while youre on the other side staring at her.

"i cant, i use them all"

she doesn't. she drinks out of one and she only ever drinks water from it. you go back and forth for merely minutes before you throw in the towel and just let her do her thing, if shes happy you dgaf about the normal water glasses.

★ shes a loud ass walker, you will hear her before you see her. you genuinely start to think she's doing it on purpose.

★ she has one belt and its one wrong move from completing snapping in two pieces, there is a literal half inch of material holding it together

★ needs to pet street cats every time she sees them, whenever you point out that they're probably diseased she scoffs

★ tries to pretend shes good at fixing things but has no clue what shes doing—the toilet isnt flushing properly and so she stands about 3 feet from it and stares at it with her weight shifted to one side. she'll have on a tank top on and slacked down carhartt pants engulfing her legs as she nods. she really likes to take care of you so she'll refuse to admit she has no idea what shes doing and when you walk away she looks up "toilet not flushing reddit"

★ she fucks with the twilight franchise but pretends to hate it because it doesn't "look cool"

★ she cant drive, she failed her permit test 3 times and pretends like every other driver on the road is the problem (shes the issue every time)

★ she drives a beat up car or truck, it smells a little funny and the radio gets three stations so you have to rummage through her mass cd collection to find something to listen to. half the cds wont even be in their case but instead haphazardly chucked around her car in random spots. the only ones she keeps in order are your cds, which have a specific bag so you don't have to scurry about in her car to find them.

★ 3 pairs of socks and they all have holes in them, she'll complain that the floor is cold all the time

"god the floor is so cold in here"

"can you just put some socks on?"

"i'm wearing socks right now"

"oh really?"

and she'll point as her feet, half her toes are out and her heel is fully exposed. its about the same as just wearing no socks at some point. you'll just stare in disbelief for a moment before scoffing.

"what'd you do that for?"

that small crease between her brows finding its way to her face as it always does.

"you're barely wearing socks"

"oh whatever"

★ has to physically restrain herself from telling you the gift she bought you for any holiday or event, shes tweaking out and cant function until she gives it to you

★ she loves to just be in your presence, she'll observe your routines. she enjoys perching next to you as you get ready, no matter how short or long or a routine she will be by your side

★ she can cook a crazy burger but that's literally all she can make

★ shes a blushing mess for you but she loves to get cocky and pretend she isn't when texting you

★ needy and will message you thirst trap ass photos in an attempt to get you to leave work early and be with her (it works)

#ellie williams #the last of us #ellie williams x reader smut #loser!ellie #tlou2 #tlou #tlou ellie #ellie x reader fluff #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie fluff #ellie williams imagine #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie hcs #ellie headcanons #modern ellie #modern au

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mrchiipchrome · 16 days

Text

Work

W.C. - 1.2 k

a/n: I’ve been having so much fun dealing with migraines, a break up, exams and getting an eye infection that I’ve totally forgot to write, so take this as a sort of apology:)

———————

It wasn’t hard to be the best footballer in the world’s girlfriend. All things considered, life with Aitana was pretty good, amazing even, if it weren’t for Aitana’s incessant need to ask people if they were employed.

It started small, when Aitana first met your family in Sweden, she had asked your brother whether he worked or not, happy when he started raving about his work, happy to find someone as passionate about their work as her.

Since that interaction it seemed like she searched that passion out in every interaction she had, going as far as to climb over rows of seats in order to speak to people.

She was nothing short of a social butterfly, and you were her anti-social caterpillar. The Swede in you was drawn to the Spanish affectionate nature even if it was vastly different from your own.

Your tiny girlfriend was as much of a magician on the pitch as she was off it, her ability to simply vanish the second you took your eyes off her was quite impressive, but not very enjoyable on your part. You almost had to invest in a private investigator to figure out how she did it, the way she always fooled you simply driving you crazy to the point of oblivion.

Still, you loved her strange habits simply for the fortune of having her, having her in every way imaginable.

You loved getting to hold her even as she squirmed to get away, kisses raining down on her face after a long game, using your substantially taller frame to put some space between her feet and the ground so that she wouldn’t be able to get away.

———————

Your muscles ache as your feet thump against the ground, the last game before a small break one of great performances, you yourself slipping 4 goals past the keeper, all of them assisted by your wonderful girlfriend.

Still, despite your obviously tired appearance, you were still ushered away to the corner of the pitch for an interview, being handed a man of the match award for your efforts during the game. This meant that your girlfriend was left unsupervised, your tired mind mixed with needing to seem professional before the camera completely taking up all your attention, meaning you didn’t immediately notice your girlfriend beelining for the stands.

“So, how does it feel to be back in the squad after the hamstring injury?” The reporter looks at you intently, trying her hardest to stare into your soul, or that’s at least what it seems like.

“Yeah, I mean it’s always special to be part of this squad, I’m not even going to lie and say that it’s been easy sitting on the bench when all I wanted was to jump on the field and score again but ultimately I got through it. I’m really happy with the performance as well, my beautiful girlfriend assisted all my goals so that makes it even better.” You smile widely when you mention your girlfriend, seeing through half-lidded eyes as the reporter's smile drops before she plasters it back on.

‘No need to be unprofessional now’ you think to yourself, looking away from her in search of that girlfriend to see if she could save you from the creepy situation.

But in your attempt to catch your girlfriend’s attention, you see her about to climb over the railings to talk to fans. You know that it’s dangerous, not only because of the altitude, but also because you never knew the intentions of some fans.

Somewhere in the background you can hear the reporter speaking to you, but you don’t pay her any mind, simply getting more anxious the longer you are standing there.

“It has to be special to be back with your teammates-”

“Perdón!” Is all you’re able to get out before you take off in Aitana’s direction, your legs no longer aching thankfully enough.

Your hands latch around her hips, tugging her softly away from the railing like you would a cat that had burrowed its claws into the couch. Aitana yelps as she looks back at you suspiciously, her hands coming down to rest on your shoulders when she realized that she didn’t have any plan of escape, seemingly just accepting her fate.

There are multiple cameras pointed at you, including the social media manager’s, so you just know that the interaction would find itself on the internet by the time you would be sitting in the bus.

Strangely enough, you didn’t mind that fact all that much, liking that the world would see how much you loved your girlfriend, maybe it would discourage reporters from trying to shoot their shot with you.

“Hey there pretty lady, whatchu’ doin’?” Aitana smiles at you innocently, acting like she totally didn’t try to climb over the railings. She presses a quick kiss to your cold cheek, enjoying the way your face darkens a few shades, the red spreading up your cheeks like food coloring in water.

It leads her to continue, kisses soon being placed on every single space on your face, with you soon blending in with the tomatoes you were growing in your garden.

“You are very cute.” She whispers lowly, her eyes flitting over your face as she smiles, keeping the words between the two of you like it was a secret only meant for your ears. Perhaps it was, you never knew with Aitana.

“And you are trying to distract me from the fact that you were totally trying to climb up into the stands. You’re lucky to be adorable, because Jona is one more abandoned interview away from benching me.” You boop her nose, shifting her body around so that your left arm was the only thing holding her body up, her arms still around your shoulders.

Walking back towards the interviewer, her professional smile drops from her face the second she sees Aitana perched on your arm, but nonetheless you approach her civilly. Aitana smiles brightly at the camera soon pointed at her again, media training mixed with the attention she’s getting from you being the perfect situation for the camera.

“Hola, lo siento, this one was getting herself into trouble. Had to get her out, don’t want the gaffer to bench the superstar now do we?” You motion towards Aitana with your head, the girl still sitting perched atop your arm slapping the back of your head lightly. Switching her around again, you quickly put her down back on her own feet, Aitana’s arms coming down to wrap around your waist tightly, almost possessive in a way.

“Thank you for today, that was all we needed. Here’s your man of the match trophy.” You get handed the trophy, turning to your girlfriend to brag, only to find her gone once more, her small body shooting across the pitch to get as much space between you two as she could.

It was almost as if you could see into the future as she jumps up and throws herself over the railings, giggling madly along the way.

You start to laugh too, the high speed chase the biggest highlight of the day, because not even scoring 4 goals could overshadow spending even a second laughing with your girl.

And even though Mapi would be teasing you for weeks about the absolute lovesick actions that day, you wouldn’t have it any different, besides you had more than enough ammunition to be able to blackmail her for eternity, so it didn’t really matter anyways.

#woso #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #barcelona femeni x reader #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #stay tuned for the Alessia fic it’s currently at 9.6 k words:)

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dantakeyoman · 1 year

Text

Neteyam Defends You From Ao’nung and His Friends (SFW / Comfort)

Reader is a Fem! Omaticaya! Half Breed ( mom scientist got busy with a Na’vi warrior; both are now dead )

CW: Ao’nung cruel teasing and lowkey kinda evil, words like “freak” are used, Neteyam and Lo’ak got them hands, Neteyam is a cheeky lil’ shit

“Do not get me wrong, Kiri. I am loving spending this time with you. But please tell me what we are looking at,” you politely laughed, amused by Kiri’s wonderment at some wet sand.

“Don’t you see, (y/n). It is beautiful! This place is like a new world!” she beamed as she lifted her head from the shallow water, her now wet hair sticking to her face.

“This place is fascinating! Right down to the grains of sand.”

She promptly stuck her head right back under.

You sighed, shaking your head with a smile as you looked out into the distance.

She wasn’t wrong, this place really was beautiful.

The animals, the reefs, the crystal clear water. All were really a sight to behold.

And Kiri was your friend, anyways. So as long as she was happy, you were happy.

If only some of the Metkayina felt the same way.

“Look at them! They are just staring at sand,” Rotxo laughed, the sound of slow-moving water coming closer and closer.

Speak of the demon.

Kiri carefully lifted her head from the water once again, giving the group of boys above a perplexed look.

“What’d you say?” she asked, genuinely confused.

“Are you two some kind of....freaks?” Ao’nung asked slowly, earning a couple laughs from his friends behind him.

Kiri scoffed as she stood up, slightly hurt by the comment. “No.”

“Leave us alone, Ao’nung,” you growled, aggressively standing up and coming at eye level with with the boy.

He had been giving you, Kiri, and Lo’ak constant shit since the moment you got there.

So to say that you weren’t his biggest fan would be a vast understatement.

“Are you sure? I mean...look at her,” he laughed, walking around you to get to Kiri, grabbing her hand and holding it up roughly. “You have demon blood. You are aliens.”

Kiri winced in pain at his grip, and you glared, quickly shoving the boy away from your friend.

Ao’nung’s friends hissed, closing you into a circle and waiting for his word to pounce.

“You do not touch her! And she is not a freak,” you spat, your tail swishing in anger.

He could talk all he wanted, but you do not lay hands on someone as close to you as Kiri.

“(y/n), let’s just go. They’re not worth it,” Kiri huffed, trying to find a gap between the boys so she could drag you out.

“Do not think you are safe, either,” Ao’nung shot a quick nod to his friends, all of them suddenly grabbing you.

“Au! Let go of me!” you shouted, thrashing in their hold as they tried their best to hold you still.

“(y/n)!” Kiri exclaimed, trying to push past the circle to get to you, but one of the boys shoved her to the ground, hard.

“Look at your feet,” he laughed, grabbing your ankle and holding it up.

“Five toes? You have just as much demon blood as she does.”

You hissed, swinging over your other foot to kick him in the face, knocking him to the ground.

“(y/n)!” Kiri gasped, eyes wide.

That was the Olo’eyktan’s son. They were going to be in deep shit for this.

The boy’s that held you tightened their grip, now thrashing you.

They were grabbing so hard, your skin was beginning to bruise.

Ao’nung got up with a scowl on his face, all of his anger aimed directly at you.

“Why you little-!” “Let go of her! a familiar voice ordered darkly, angry footsteps getting louder and louder.

You turned to your left to see an angry Neteyam stalking towards Ao’nung, absolutely livid.

Oh, shit.

You had only seen Neteyam this mad a few times before.

Where his nose was slightly scrunched, his eyebrows creased, and his expression stone cold.

You knew he’d hate it if you said this to him, but he looked a lot like his dad.

“Oh, look. Another freak!” Ao’nung chuckled with a smirk, not taking the boy seriously.

“You heard me. Put her down, now.” Neteyam snarled, getting into Ao’nung’s face without hesitation.

For a quick moment, you could see a flicker of fear flash in Ao’nung’s eyes.

Sure, he had the upper body strength over Neteyam, but no training once soever in how to use it.

Neteyam, on the other hand, had sparred with his brother and father just for situations just like this.

And his dad was Toruk Makto anyway so...

Ao’nung nodded to the boys that held you, all of them dropping you face first in the sand.

Fuck.

Neteyam hissed at Ao’nung, giving him a firm shove.

“I said put! Not drop!”

“You need some help, bro?” Lo’ak casually walked over, noticing the commotion from not so far away.

To be honest, it was making all the adults in the reef stare.

“I have this handled,” Neteyam glared at the Metkayinan boy, before turning to the rest of his friends.

“This is for all of you. If any of you lays a hand on (y/n) or my sister, you will have to answer to me.”

“And me,” Lo’ak chimed seriously, cracking his knuckles in his fist.

You lifted your face from the sand, your face covered with it, and your nose dripping in a little blood.

You had heard everything.

And were incredibly flatter that they were going through so much, just because of this one instance.

“Oh, really?” Ao’nung mused, slowly walking over to you, who was laying down on the ground, stomach facing up.

“So what would you do if I did...this?”

And just like that, he landed a swift and hard kick to the side of your rib.

You let out a pained gasp and clutched your side, curling into yourself to protect in case he tried again.

“ILEY!” Neteyam let out a battle cry, sucker punching Ao’nung in the face before tackling him to the ground.

“Alright!” Lo’ak smiled, jumping into the fight by punching two of Ao’nung’s friends.

As their battle raged on, Kiri ran over to you, carefully pulling you away from the action.

“For Eywa’s sake! Are you okay?!” Kiri frantically asked, concerned.

Now that you were finally starting to regulate your breathing, you were able to speak again.

You would have to thank Tsireya for the breathing lessons.

“I am okay, Kiri,” you assured her, trying your best to sit up. But it only shot more pain through your rib.

You hissed, and she carefully pushed you back down, resting your head in her lap.

“No way. You are in no condition to sit up.”

You sighed, seeing your only option was to watch the fight.

You turned your head to the boys, only to see that the fight was already coming to a close.

The Metkayina boys were slowly starting to run away, one by one, until finally, Ao’nung tucked his tail between his legs and swam back to the village.

Leaving Neteyam and Lo’ak standing victorious, a little bruised, but otherwise okay.

In a fight that was 4 - 2, those boys had lost.

Shameful.

Now that that was done, Neteyam turned his attention to you, and quickly jogged over.

“Is she alright, Kiri?” he asked, worry lacing his tone.

“Peachy keen,” you said sarcastically, a phrase Norm had taught you back when you lived with the Omaticayans.

“It looks like her rib his bruised, but nothing too serious. She might need help walking, though,” Kiri answered, looking down at you with a sigh.

Neteyam nodded, not hesitating to scoop you up in his arms and carry you, bridal style.

“I’m taking her back to mom so she can patch her up,” he let his two siblings know.

“Alright. We’re righhhht behind you,” Lo’ak knowingly smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at his older brother.

Neteyam sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes at his brother’s antics before starting off.

“That was really cool. What you did for me. Thank you,” you weakly smiled up at him, the sight nearly breaking his heart.

You perfect face was littered with sand, blood, and bruises.

Yet somehow, you still seemed to look gorgeous...no, beautiful under the growing moonlight.

“There is no need to thank. I simply did the right thing,” he played off with a smile, looking off into the distance so you wouldn’t catch him staring.

You slowly lifted your hand, cupping his cheek and turning his to face you, a dark blue hue rising onto his cheeks.

He had a split lip, and a little bit of blood on his ear, the split lip making him look even more handsome ( if that was possible ).

But other than that, he was pretty much unharmed.

“You did something you didn’t have to do. And I’m thanking you for it,” you gave him a playful poke in the cheek.

“Now accept it.”

He chuckled at your childishness, looking down at your honey eyes with nothing but admiration behind his.

“What will you do if I don’t?” he smirked, obviously egging you on.

You accepted the challenge, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a rough kiss.

He went wide eyed. the kiss taking him completely by surprise, but he returned it anyway, his grip on your thigh tightening ever so slightly.

You swiped your tongue over his lip, him quickly adjusting his grip on you to one hand so he could tuck a hand in your hair.

You kissed like this for a few more seconds, a couple of intermittent “ews” and “wrap it ups” coming from the brother and sister not too far behind you two.

As you separated, stupid smiled graces each of your faces.

“Do you accept it now?” you asked with a smirk, cocking an eyebrow.

“I think I still need a little more encouragement,” he smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

You laughed, using your hand to smush his lips way as you approached the village, a furious Jake shouting at Ao’nung on the docks.

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #na'vi x reader #na'vi x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #atwow x reader #atwow #omitacaya

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