#responses to being stranded on an island | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

0cta9on · 3 months

Text

Unlikely Duet - 6

length: +7k words

Genre: Fluff

NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)

(Author's Note: I could've taken another day to edit this, but I wanted to upload it asap so here it is :^) Hopefully my writing isn't too garbage and I hope y'all enjoy <3)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Minji’s POV

I could do nothing but pace around my room, anxiety fueling every step. Danielle was supposed to be here 20 minutes ago to drive us to the fair, but on this particular day of all days, she decides to be late. My vice president, the one who I can lean on when I’m overwhelmed with responsibilities and even more of a stickler for rules and punctuality compared to me, is late.

The brunt of my morning was spent avoiding my parents like the plague, staying cooped up in my room and eating my meals as quickly as possible. To them, it probably seems like I’m giving them the silent treatment for what they said last night (which I’m still upset about), but in reality, I was riddled with anxious thoughts and simply avoided speaking in case I accidentally let it slip that I was planning on lying to them. I’ve done it tons of times before, but every single time is nerve wracking. While I hate that it’s gotten to this point, I owe a lot of my sanity to what I’ve been able to get away with by lying. Besides, it’s probably better this way - my parents still believe that I’m their perfect daughter and I still get to have some semblance of a social life.

Like the sonorous tones of a church bell, a resounding ding emits from my phone. They’re here. With shaky hands, I grab my tote bag from my bed and carefully tiptoe down the stairs. Right as I reach the front door, my father calls out to me from the living room.

“Minji? Where are you going?” He asks, a look of curiosity on his face.

“O-oh, uhh, I guess I forgot to tell you this but I was actually planning on going to the library to study with Danielle today.” I grin at him, trying my best to sound convincing. Our eyes lock as he studies my expression for what feels like an eternity. It might just be my stress causing my eyes to play tricks on me, but there seems to be a hint of sadness in his expression, as if he doesn’t want me to go. I shake it off and refocus on the task at hand.

“Well, I better get going-”

“Wait,” he interrupts before leaving the room for a moment. He comes back with a $20 bill in his hands and offers it to me. “Here.”

Panic began to set in. Did he find out I was actually going to the fair? If he did, why would he be giving me money? Shouldn’t he be angry at me for lying to him?

“Um, what’s this for? We’re just going to the library,” I reiterate in hopes that my initial worries were wrong.

“In case you two get hungry after, you should get some snacks. Food fuels the brain.” The relief I felt after he said those words is better than any award I got in my entire academic career up to this point. Normally it would raise red flags for my father to be doing something uncharacteristic like this, but I didn’t care. I’m just glad to almost be free.

“Thanks,” I say as I take the cash. “I’ll see you later then.”

“Don’t stay out too late. Don’t be messing around while studying. And-”

I shut the door behind me before I could hear the rest of his sentence. It was probably some other generic dad advice, like “Don’t talk to strange boys at night” or something like that. The sight of Danielle’s mom’s car parked on the other side of the street was like seeing a boat heading your direction after being stranded on an island for 15 years. Hanni beckoned me from the passenger’s side window, an excited grin painted on her face.

“Hurry up girl, let’s go!!” She shouted. As I open the door to the backseat, Hyein and Haerin wave back at me.

“Hi Minji!”

“Yo.”

“Hi guys, sorry, my dad wanted to talk to me before I left,” I replied as I got in the car. “Danielle, what took you so long, I was pacing around my room for the past 20 minutes anxious out of my mind!”

“I’m sorry, there was something I had to take care of before I could take my mom’s car,” she apologizes as she tampers with the rearview mirror, clearly annoyed with its inability to swivel properly.

Hanni pops her head from the front seat. “Okay y’all, we just need to take a deep breath and calm down. We’re going to the fair to chill out and have fun, let’s not let petty things like this ruin the day before it’s even started, alright?” Haerin and Hyein nod enthusiastically, peering over at me to gauge my reaction. I close my eyes and take a deep breath in order to allow my mind to forget about the stress from my morning. Today is the day that I get to let loose and forget about all the pressures I face in my regular life. Nothing else matters but having fun. As I open my eyes again, I am welcomed by the smiling faces of my four dearest friends (Danielle was especially happy about finally fixing the rearview mirror). My lips curl into a smile as I look back at them.

“Yeah, you’re right, Hanni,” I admit. “Okay, let’s go!!” We all cheer as Danielle steps on the gas. Hanni turns up the radio, blasting a loud pop song that blares out of the windows as we cruise through the neighborhood.

______________________________________________________________

The lights, the sounds, the smells, everything about the fair was overwhelming in the best way possible. Large groups of friends and families meandered along the concrete pathways, talking and laughing as they try their hand at classic carnival games or satiate their hunger with fried food and extravagant sweets. A giant ferris wheel sat in the background, the sunlight peeking through its rotors. A wave of nostalgia washes over me as I’m reminded of old family memories. Before they pressured me into trying to obtain some kind of impossible perfection, I used to be able to exist simply as their daughter, who they loved and played with like any other child.

“Hey Minji, are you okay?” Hyein asks me. I snap out of my thoughts to find the girls looking back at me with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just thinking about something,” I reassure them. “What do you guys wanna do first?”

“I don’t know Ms. President, what do you wanna do?” Hanni asks with a wide grin.

“Well, I guess we can-”

I freeze as I see a familiar face in the distance, intermingled with the crowd. Yuno is here. With the convenience store girl.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

“Where the hell did he run off to?” I grumble as I struggle to search for Yujin in the crowd. The fair was more overwhelming than I could’ve imagined - it was difficult navigating through the sea of strangers without accidentally rubbing elbows with them, all while trying to find oxygen through the constant stench of fried foods and sugar wafting through the air. At the very least, the lights were pretty to look at and I would be lying if I said the ferris wheel didn’t pique my interest.

Winter chuckles at my annoyance. “Relax, he’s just getting a corndog. See, he’s on his way over here right now,” she says, gesturing through a gap in the crowd. Lo and behold, Yujin skips towards us with a corndog in hand and a stupid grin on his face.

“Look what I got!” He presents his fried snack to us with the excitement of a child presenting a drawing to their parents. An ungodly amount of ketchup and mustard drips off the corndog, creating a gross glob of orange on the ground.

“Is that healthy?” Winter asks, concern laced in her voice. Her words fall on deaf ears as Yujin chomps off a large piece, covering his mouth in sauce. I chuckle in disbelief, both deeply disturbed and quietly impressed, while Winter hands him a pack of napkins from her purse.

I take the opportunity to look around at my surroundings again. As I gazed out amongst the crowd of smiling faces, I suddenly felt out of place in it all, like I wasn’t allowed to be here. Everything felt so foreign to me, I wasn’t sure if I should feel at ease or on edge. Whether it’s paranoia or just a hunch, I couldn’t get rid of this nagging feeling at the back of my head.

“Hey Yuno?” Winter nudges me.

I turn my attention towards her. “What?”

“Isn’t that the student council president?”

My heart stops for a split second as I look down the other end of her finger. In the heart of the crowd is Minji, huddled around her friends. She’s wearing a simple outfit of a gray collegiate sweater and jeans, yet my eyes were naturally drawn to her like a magnet.

“Y-yeah, that’s her,” I stutter, trying to maintain composure.

“Mm, issa Danielle? Les go shay hi!” Yujin exclaims with a mouth full of food, running toward them before I could stop him.

“God dammit…”

“What’s wrong, do you not wanna say hi?” Winter asks as we follow the trail through the crowd Yujin left behind.

“It’s not that, it’s just… Whatever, let’s just go.” With every step I take, my heart rate begins to accelerate as, once again, fate pulls me towards Minji Kim.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

He’s coming this way!! Why is he coming this way?? Did he see me? Should I run? No, why would I run? Pull it together, Minji!! Maybe if I pretend I didn’t see him, he’ll just walk past me. Why would I do that?? Agh!!

“Ketchup… and mustard,” Haerin blurts out, drawing puzzled glances from the group. Suddenly, a boy wearing a white eyepatch emerges from the crowd, carrying a corndog smeared with red and yellow condiments.

“Danielle!!” He calls out, waving excitedly. “Hi!”

“Yujin? What are you doing here?” Danielle questions, a hint of surprise present in her voice.

“I’m with my friends!” The boy, Yujin, exclaims as Yuno and the convenience store girl appear behind him, drawing an impish grin from Hanni. I couldn’t help but feel underdressed when compared to convenience store girl’s flowery sundress and cardigan. “I didn’t expect to see you here too! This is great!”

“Uh yeah, I guess it is,” Danielle responds awkwardly before turning to us. “Um, this is Yujin, I’ve been helping him and his grandma out recently.”

“We’re friends!” He adds enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I suppose we are.”

I couldn’t help but giggle at Danielle’s uncharacteristic awkwardness. Normally, she’s the serious voice of reason that stays calm under pressure, yet here she was, looking like an embarrassed older sister flustered by the antics of her younger sibling.

“It’s nice to meet you, Yujin,” I greet warmly. “I’m Minji, also a friend of Danielle’s.”

“Oh, you must be the student council president!” He replies eagerly. “These are my friends, Yuno and Winter. Yuno might look a little scary, but don’t worry, he only fights bad guys. He helped me and Winter out before! And Winter is really shy, but she’s really nice once you get to know her!”

“H-hello,” Winter stutters with a polite smile, while Yuno offers a simple nod. A flush of warmth colors my cheeks as our eyes briefly meet before we both quickly avert our gazes. Unfortunately, Hanni notices this and stifles a laugh, making my cheeks grow even warmer with embarrassment.

“Hello, I’m Hyein!” Our youngest chimes in. “This is Haerin, and that over there is Hanni! It’s nice to meet you all!”

As the group falls into casual conversation, I can’t help but peer over at Yujin’s eyepatch and be reminded of my conversation with Yuno last night. Despite his injuries, he’s chock full of energy and vibrancy that contrasts with Yuno’s usual solitary and soft-spoken demeanor. The difference in their personalities is cute in a way. Winter, on the other hand, shares many similarities with Yuno. Like him, she’s very soft-spoken and a little awkward, but has an aura of kindness around her despite that. I imagine the two of them got along well because of this - for some reason, this fact irks me.

“Since we’re all here to let loose at the fair, why don’t you guys join us? The more the merrier I always say, isn’t that right, Minj?” Hanni says, nudging my ribs with her elbow. I didn’t even have to look at her to know what kind of face she’s making.

Coincidentally, my eyes meet Yuno’s once again, and I quickly break away as I think of what to say. I would hate to butt into Yuno’s time with his friends, but a voice in the back of my head was telling me otherwise.

“Yeah, you guys can join us if you want to,” I say as I give into the voices. My lips curl into a smile, but inside, I couldn’t shake the feeling of butterflies in my stomach. Yuno appears taken aback at my answer as a slight pinkish hue grows on his cheeks. The group moves through the crowd looking for what to do first with Yujin leading the way and Yuno trailing close behind. I stay in the back, letting my complicated feelings fester.

“H-hello, Minji.” Winter’s soft voice interrupts my thoughts, and I turn to find her trailing behind the group alongside me. Her simple makeup look is subtle, yet it perfectly accentuated her natural beauty. Pair that with her cute outfit and she could have any guys she wants. A shiver went through my spine at the thought.

“What’s up?” I ask, trying my best to act natural.

“I just wanted to ask if you’re doing okay. I never got the chance to after what happened that night.”

My mind flashes back to when Yuno and Winter had saved me from that drunk man a couple days ago. I was too terrified and too weak to protect myself, yet this timid girl jumped in front of him to protect me. And here I am, feeling all weird because I think she looks prettier than me.

“I’m doing fine now. Thanks again for that, I owe you one,” I express.

She quickly shakes her head at my offer. “Y-you don’t have to do that. If you want, I can give you a can of pepper spray. I have a couple more of them at home.”

A chuckle escapes my lips, and Winter seems to loosen up at this. “I might have to take you up on that offer,” I say, half-jokingly. A wave of shame washes over me as I suddenly felt bad for being jealous of her. Maybe the events of this morning still have their effects on me or maybe I ate something bad earlier, but something feels off with me today and I’m not sure why.

“Guys, look over here!” Yujin shouts excitedly from the front of the group, pointing at a giant Spider-man plush sitting on a prize table for a basketball game. Two basketball hoops stood tall before him, much higher than a regular basketball hoop. “I HAVE to get this for my room!” He quickly pays the game attendant, who places three basketballs on the counter in front of him.

“Alright, the game is simple. All you have to do is make at least one basket and you get a prize,” the worker explains. Yujin takes the first ball and psyches himself up, giving the ball a couple dribbles before throwing it… And completely missing the hoop.

“Aw man,” he groans in disappointment. “Yuno, why don’t you try?”

Yuno accepts the challenge, gripping the second ball with steely determination. I watch with bated breath as the ball leaves his hands. It soars high into the sky… and completely misses the hoop. The ball shoots way over the hoop and ends up knocking a corndog out of someone’s hand. The girls and I struggle to stifle our laughter as Yuno’s cheeks turn a bright red.

“A-ah… Shit…” He curses under his breath. “M-maybe Winter should try…”

Winter steps forward, her hands shaking as she grips the final ball. We all freeze with anticipation as she shoots the ball towards the hoop. Miraculously, it arcs perfectly in the air and lands through the hoop with a satisfying swoosh. A scattered array of claps and cheers erupt from some bystanders that witnessed that moment, but none are as ecstatic as Yujin, who jumps and cheers with the excitement of a kid on his birthday.

“Congratulations, ma’am! Which prize would you like?” The worker asks her.

“T-the Spiderman p-please,” Winter stammers, accepting the toy and handing it to Yujin.

“Ahhh!!! Winter, you’re the best!!!” He screams, drawing a variety of reactions from passersby. Yuno flashes her a quick thumbs up while Hyein, Haerin, and Hanni shower her with compliments, which Winter modestly tries to brush away with a bashful smile. Meanwhile, Danielle is occupied with trying to contain Yujin’s overflowing energy.

“M-my dad really likes basketball, so he made me play w-when I was younger. I-it’s nothing really,” Winter explains. She’s kind, pretty, AND athletic? It’s almost as if God himself created the perfect person and placed them in front of me on a day I decided not to dress up. There’s no wonder I felt jealous of her. But why am I jealous of her?

“Are you okay?” Yuno asks me.

I startle slightly at his sudden appearance. “H-huh? Yeah, why?” I awkwardly chuckle. Yuno’s gentle gaze meets mine with genuine concern, momentarily distracting myself from my swirling thoughts. I found myself wanting to draw closer and get lost in his irises.

What?! Minji, what are you even thinking?! Have you gone insane?!

“You look… upset,” he admits shyly. “I just wanted t-”

Suddenly, a basketball bounces off of the other hoop and hurtles towards Winter. In a flash, Yuno turns and catches the ball right before it hits her in the face, his gentle expression replaced with a stern glare at the person who threw the ball.

“Watch it,” he growls in a calm yet menacing tone as he tosses the ball back. His face immediately softens as he turns back to Winter. “You alright?”

“Y-yeah. Thanks, Yuno,” she answers with an appreciative smile. I felt my heart drop from my chest as I watched their interaction, confusion and envy creating a storm in my mind.

“Sooooooo, you gonna make a move or no?” I jump as Hanni startles me from behind.

“W-what??” I sputter.

“I recognize that face anywhere. You’re jealous~.”

Heat creeps up my face as I struggle to find the words to explain myself. “Wha- I am not jealous!” I seethe, trying to keep my voice down. “I’m just… impressed by his reaction timing.”

“Mhm,” she hums, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I’m impressed by how close they look. Don’t you think they would make a cute couple, Minj?”

Her words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. “Y-yeah, I’m sure they would,” I reply, unconvincingly. “W-whatever, like I said I’m not jealous.”

“Oh sweet, sweet Minji,” Hanni sighs, shaking her head as she pats my shoulder. She follows the rest of the group as they move on, leaving me to watch Yuno and Winter as they walk side by side. No matter how hard I try, I can't rationalize this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach every time I see them together. I need to do something, but I don’t know why.

______________________________________________________________

We spent the next hour walking around, playing all the fair games, and filing our stomachs with an array of different snacks the fair offers. I tried to enjoy myself, but the pit in my stomach continued to grow and grow until it became unbearable. I even started to consider Hanni’s words, but no amount of inner turmoil would make me go that insane.

As the sun dipped low, casting an enchanting orange hue over the fairgrounds, it seemed like the perfect time to watch the sunset from atop the ferris wheel. As excited as I am to be able to watch the sunset, I still couldn’t get rid of this weird feeling as I watched Yuno chat with Winter and Yujin at the front of the group. Hanni seemed to notice this too.

“Girl, you look miserable,” she remarks, resting her chin on my shoulder with a sympathetic pout. “You’re supposed to be having fun.”

“I-I am having fun. This is my ‘having fun’ face.” I flash her a forced grin in a feeble attempt to mask my true feelings. Hanni sighs heavily right as we reach the front of the line.

“Each cabin only fits two people, so you’ll have to split into groups of two,” the ride operator explains. Naturally, Hyein and Haerin pair up together, waving excitedly at us as they eagerly step into the first cabin.

“Yuno, do you wanna ride together?” Yujin asks him. Before he could answer, however, Hanni takes matters into her own hands and pushes Danielle into Yujin.

“Hey Yujin, did you know Danielle is really scared of heights? She needs a big strong man protecting her while she’s up there.” Danielle silently curses at her with her eyes as Hanni pushes the duo into the next cabin. My eyes go wide with panic as I suddenly catch onto her plan.

“Winter, I love your dress! Let’s chat about it on the ferris wheel!” Hanni exclaims as she grabs Winter’s hand, pulling her towards the open doors of the cabin. Right before the doors close behind them, I catch a glimpse of Hanni flashing me a thumbs up. My heart threatened to explode from my chest as I found myself left alone with Yuno.

“S-soooooo… U-um, do you wanna, um, I-I gues-”

“Let’s go,” Yuno utters as walks ahead of me into the cabin. I mentally facepalm, cringing at my sudden inability to formulate a coherent sentence. I step into the cabin and sit across from Yuno. As the doors seal shut, the space suddenly felt a lot smaller and more intimate. I gaze out at the orange glow of the sun to distract myself, both mortified and oddly blissful.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

My heart kept chugging like a speeding steam train, I worried that Minji could hear it echo off the walls of the cabin. Throughout the day, I could feel her gaze lingering on me and I don’t know why. Did she wanna talk about yesterday? Was something on her mind? Was there something in my hair? Did I smell? I would’ve showered before I left the house if I knew I was gonna bump into her.

A strange feeling fills my chest as I observe the way the sunlight reflects off of her skin. The same feeling that had been haunting me for the past couple of days. Minji constantly invades my thoughts, stirring emotions I couldn’t comprehend. Everything about her felt new and strange, but I couldn’t deny that being around her made me feel happy. I drop my gaze to the floor as she turns to me, hoping she didn’t catch me staring.

“Sooo…” She began, filling the silence. “Winter seems nice.”

I tilt my head in confusion at her sudden interest in Winter. “Uh, yeah. I guess so.”

“How’d you two meet?” She asks with an odd amount of intrigue

For the most part, Minji is an open book. I never have to guess what she’s thinking or feeling, and unlike her parents, she never seems to be hiding some ulterior motive beneath a gentle exterior - until now. At first, I thought maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me, but being the open book she is, it became clear as day that Minji was hiding something. But why? Maybe it wasn’t my place to pry, but my instincts told me otherwise.

“We have english together, but we didn’t start being… ‘friends’ until a couple days ago. She and Yujin kinda just… inserted themselves into my life. And now we’re here,” I explain. Minji’s brow furrows in response.

“Wait, you only started talking a couple days ago? I thought you two were dating.” She hurriedly clasps her hand over her mouth as if she didn’t mean to let that out. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“We’re not dating,” I say a little too quickly. “Just friends.”

The cabin falls silent as both of our cheeks turn a light crimson. Minji turns back to the window, and my eyes gravitate towards her face once again as if that’s where they’re meant to be. The light and the shadows dance on her skin creating a work of art right in front of me. She’s beautiful in the most impossible way, defying everything I know about the world just by existing. My heart pumps faster and faster as my mind begins to run wild, imagining the two of us together as more than friends. Going on dates and being close. Just like this. Maybe Minji wanted to know if Winter and I were dating because she’s interested in me. I quickly shot that idea down. Those kinds of thoughts only lead down a bad road.

“My parents used to take my brother and I to the fair when we were younger,” Minji says, snapping me out of my daze. “We would go around and play all the games, trying to win the prizes. The games were always rigged, so we never won any. One time, I got so upset that I couldn’t win a bear toy that I started crying. My dad ended up paying extra just so he could get me the bear.” A gentle smile graces her face as she recounts her memory.

“We would always ride the ferris wheel at the end so we could watch the sunset from the top of the ferris wheel, just like this. I was always too short, so my dad had to hoist me up so I could see through the window.” She chuckles lightly before her smile eventually fades from her lips and her gaze falls to the floor. “Sorry, being here must have made me nostalgic. It’s been awhile since I got to watch the sunset from a ferris wheel.”

“Don’t be sorry. I like hearing you talk.” My eyes grow wide with panic as I realize the implication of my words. “I-I meant I like you. I MEAN YOUR STORY!! I liked your story…” My face falls into my palms in an attempt to hide the deepening blush, and I let out a muffled “Fuck” under my breath. I can hear Minji trying to stifle her laughter, which only makes me feel worse. I wanted nothing more than to bury myself six feet under and stay there for eternity.

“I know what you mea- AHHH!!!”

I jolt my head up right as Minji jumps from her seat and into my lap. Bewilderment, accompanied by a million other emotions, runs through my mind as she wraps her arms around my head and hides her face in the crook of my neck.

“M-Minji, uhh w-what are you-”

“There’s a spider on the seat!” She exclaims, her voice tingling with fear. I maneuver my head around her and see the tiniest spider I’ve ever seen scurrying around the spot where Minji once sat. “Ahhh, I really hate spiders!!”

I try to pry her body off of me, but her grip is tighter than an anaconda. A wave of deja vu washes over me as I suddenly start to feel lightheaded.

“M-Minji… Y-you’re choking m-me…” Right before I feel like I’m about to blackout, Minji releases her grip on my neck and slides off of my lap into the space next to me. The seat is a little cramped, but it’s better than dying in such an embarrassing way.

“I-I’M SO SORRY, YUNO!!” She apologizes, her face a bright tomato red. She flinches as the spider continues to move around on the opposite seat, wincing with each movement. “I-I really, really, really, REALLY hate spiders.”

Even after she almost choked me to death, I couldn’t help but find her cute as she shields her eyes with delicate hands, her face nestled into my shoulder. A grin threatens to grow on my lips as I try to comfort her with a few gentle pats on the head.

“I used to be afraid of spiders when I was a kid,” I began in a calming tone. “Whenever I saw one, I always cried to my parents about it. One day, I found one in the bathroom, so I ran to my mom sobbing and told her to kill it. Instead of killing it, she held me in her arms and carried me to the bathroom where it was. I was just like you, hiding my face on her shoulder because I was too scared to even look at it. In a gentle voice, she told me about how it was alone and probably looking for its family. If I killed it, then its family would be sad. She told me that she would be sad if I was suddenly killed when I was out all alone. From that day on, I was never afraid of spiders. Every time I saw one, I would carry it outside so it could find its family.”

I chuckle under my breath. “I don’t think it actually works like that, but I don’t kill spiders because of her. Because of my mom.”

As I finish my story, I notice Minji’s eyes watering and her lip quivering as if she’s about to cry. “Ah shit, are you okay?” I ask with great concern.

“S-Sorry, that was just… really sweet,” she sniffles. I bit my lip, trying to suppress my smile as I simultaneously fought the urge to wipe her tears away. As she calms down, we sit together in silence, watching the tiny spider walk around the cabin.

“He’s just a little guy,” Minji utters, a cute grin on her face. “I wonder why I was so scared of you before.”

Just then, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I open up the notification to see a selfie of Yujin and Danielle with the giant Spiderman plush wedged in between them. Despite Danielle’s awful personality, Yujin seems to like her, so I guess it’s alright. If I didn’t know any better, I could’ve easily mistaken them for siblings.

“Aww, that’s cute. We should send one back,” Minji suggests, her eyes lighting up.

“O-oh, uh, sure. How do I…” After a minute of hopelessly fumbling through the labyrinth of options on the screen, Minji gently takes the phone from me and opens up the camera with a simple tap.

“Do you know how to use a phone, Yuno?” She teases.

“U-uh, no…” I answer, scratching the back of my head in embarrassment. Her eyes widened with surprise at my response. “It’s my first phone, and I just got it today so I haven’t really had a chance to properly look through it.”

“O-okay, well just press on this gray square over here if you wanna open up the camera,” she explains in a kind tone, free of any judgment. She raises her arm and I can see the two of us reflected onto the screen. “Scoot a little closer so we can both be in the frame.”

With a gulp, I scoot closer to her in the already cramped space. The flowery scent of her hair wafts through my nostrils, gentle and clean. Hypnotized by the scent, I don’t realize I’m staring at her until she nudges me with her elbow.

“Look at the camera,” she reminds me, a knowing smile playing on her lips. The phone camera manages to catch the redness of my cheeks as I glance back at my reflection. Minji snaps a few shots before reviewing her work.

“They came out pretty well, don’t you think?” She inquires, and I can only nod in agreement, despite my less-than-stellar appearance in the photos. Minji, on the other hand, looks as pretty as ever. Even when she’s not doing much, the camera seems to pick up on all her good sides. She fiddles with my phone for a little bit before handing it back to me.

“Here, I put my number in so you can send me the photos,” she says. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“N-not at all,” I stutter excitedly, my heart soaring in the air. Minji giggles at my elation and we share a laugh in that cramped ferris wheel cabin. In that moment, as the sunset bathes us in its warm glow, everything falls into place. The weird feelings, the incessant thoughts - they all lead to one undeniable truth. I’m in love with Minji Kim.

______________________________________________________________

As I step out of the cabin, I see the rest of our friends waiting for us at the front of the ferris wheel. Instinctively, I reach my hand out towards Minji as she carefully steps out, which she accepts with a small grin adorning her lips. Though the contact is brief, the memory of her delicate hand in mine etches itself into my memory.

“Soooooo, did you two have fun?” Hanni asks us with an unnerving smirk that could only mean trouble. Before I get a chance to answer however, Minji grabs her wrist and leads her away.

“I-I’m going to the bathroom, Hanni you’re coming with me!” Her voice echoes as she drags Hanni away, trailed by the rest of her friends like ducklings following their mother. Perplexed, Winter, Yujin, and I settle onto a nearby bench to rest in the shade.

“The ferris wheel was fun, I took a lot of pictures of the sunset!” Yujin shares, displaying the photos on his phone. Almost his entire gallery was full of sun from slightly varying angles, along with a few selfies with Danielle. Her gentler side she exclusively shows to Yujin is such a stark contrast from her usual coldness, it’s almost unsettling.

“I feel exhausted.” Winter slumps beside me, her head tilting to the side as if she was too tired to even hold it up. “Hanni is really nice, but I felt so drained after talking to her for five minutes. I don’t know where she gets all that energy from.” I quietly snicker to myself. That seems on brand for Hanni.

My mind wanders back to the epiphany I had earlier. “Um, can I ask you two something… odd?” Their heads perk up, looking at me expectantly. “Have you guys ever… ‘dated’ anyone before?”

“I’ve had crushes before, but I was always too scared to confess,” Yujin admits.

“What about you, Winter? Have you ever had a boyfriend?” I ask.

“Um, not exactly…” With a hint of reluctance, she retrieves her phone from her purse, revealing a polaroid tucked in her phone case - a snapshot of Winter with her arms wrapped around a girl with striking eyes and jet black hair.

Both of our jaws drop, simultaneously shocked and impressed.

“Oh shit…” I mutter before coming to my senses. She’s pretty, but not Minji pretty.

“Wow, that’s your girlfriend, Winter?!” Yujin exclaims. Winter smiles shyly as she puts her phone back in her purse.

“Y-yeah. She’s studying in Japan right now, so I don't get to see her often. I hope she visits soon; I think you guys would get along with her really well.” The look on her face as she thinks of her girlfriend reminds me of my mother’s face in old wedding photos. I don’t understand anything about love or relationships, but that face told me everything I needed to know. “Why did you want to know, Yuno?”

My cheeks suddenly turn warm. “Oh, uh… No reason.”

As if on cue, Minji and the rest of her friends return from the restroom, with Minji looking noticeably flustered and Hanni more excited than ever.

“It’s getting dark, so we were planning on heading back,” Danielle says. “Do you guys need a ride home?”

“O-oh, it’s okay, w-we were gonna take the subway home,” Winter replies.

“WAIT!” Yujin shouts suddenly before turning to her. “Winter, can we ride with them? Pleaseeeeee?” He grabs her sleeve and looks up at her with pleading eyes.

“I-I guess if it’s okay with them.” “WOOHOO!” Yujin cheers. “I call shotgun!” He dashes toward the parking lot, his Spiderman plush bobbing in his arms.

“Hey, that’s my seat!” Hanni exclaims, running after him. In the midst of commotion, I sneak over to Minji.

“H-hi,” I stutter, brimming with nervous excitement.

“H-hey.” Even with the sun completely set, her smile manages to illuminate everything around us. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but the air felt different compared to the times we’ve talked before. That strange yet euphoric feeling still lingers in my chest, this time I finally know what that feeling is - I think. Maybe it’s love, maybe it’s the fumes of fried food decaying my brain. The only thing I know for sure is that I like being around Minji.

“Are you two going to come with us or no?” Hyein calls out to us while Haerin glares suspiciously in our direction. Flustered, we walk side by side towards the parking lot, following distantly behind the rest of the group. The scattered murmurs of the crowd begin to fade behind us, the chirping of crickets and the subtle crunching of rocks underneath our feet taking their place. An ombre of growing indigo looks down at us from a cloudless sky, dotted with specks of starlight thousands of lightyears away. Despite their distance, they shine brightly against the night sky, almost as bright as the girl walking next to me.

“Yuno,” Minji voice breaks through my daydreams, pulling me back to the present. “You’re staring.”

“Ah… Sorry…” I turn my head away to hide the heat creeping up my face, prompting a soft giggle from her.

“You know, you’re not what I expected at all.”

Curious, I turn my gaze back towards her. “What do you mean?”

Her eyebrows furrow as she thinks about her response, and I bite my lower lip to stifle my smile at her cute expression. “Ever since sophomore year, I’ve always heard whispers about this scary guy that goes around fighting people. I never believed it because I thought it was too cliche to be true,” she begins, shooting me a playful glance I scratch the back of my head, suddenly feeling sheepish.

“That is, until two years later, when I come face to face with the ‘scary guy’, all bloody and bruised from a fight that happened two seconds ago. When I first met you, I thought you were some jerk who liked hurting others for the fun of it. I was wrong and I’m sorry.” Minji looks up at me, eyes full of remorse. I’ve seen others use this look on the people I’ve hurt, but never on me. To be on the receiving end of it felt disconcerting.

“You don’t have to apolog-”

“You’re kind and caring and you never hesitate to stand up for what’s right even when no one else will. While I don’t agree with your methods, I think the reason why you fight is very admirable, and if people just stopped being scared of you for two seconds, they could see how cute of a person you are.” Her hand shoots up to her mouth while her eyes go wide with panic.

Did I hear her right? Did she just call me… cute??

“I MEANT GOOD!!” She exclaims, correcting herself. “I meant to say you’re a good person…” We stand there, turned away from each other, too embarrassed to fill the growing silence. The chorus of crickets is quickly drowned out by my heartbeat echoing in my ears. My entire body feels both uncomfortably warm and freezing cold at the same time. The sudden honk of a car horn makes us both jump.

“What are you two still doing? Let’s go!” I turn to see Hanni yell at us from the back seat of an SUV. It seems that Yujin got to the front seat first. Minji and I both trudge towards the car, too embarrassed to even look at each other. Hanni steps out of the car and reclines the seat forward to let us get into the back, where Winter is sitting alone with two empty seats on either side of her.

As we settle in the back seat, I immediately shut my eyes, hoping that falling asleep would make things better. One final thing stays in my mind as I slip into unconsciousness.

She thinks I’m cute.

______________________________________________________________

A gentle shake rouses me from my slumber.

“Yuno, we’re here,” I hear Winter say as my eyes slowly open, finding my bearings. Outside the window, I see the convenience store where Winter works at.

“Winter said you guys live around here, so I hope you don’t mind,” Danielle explains from the front seat. Minji and Hanni step out of the car, allowing for Winter and I to exit.

“See you guys around,” Hanni says, waving goodbye. My eyes meet Minji’s momentarily before we swiftly break away. Not even a second of eye contact and I can already feel my body temperature rising.

“Thanks for the ride! Byeeeeee!” Yujin exclaims as the car disappears down the street. The three of us say our goodbyes to each other before we go our separate ways.

A flurry of emotions fills my stomach as I look back on the oddly eventful day. What started as an excuse to get out of the house turned into my first time at the fair, with Minji no less. I couldn’t help but feel like I’m in some surreal dream and that I’ll wake up one day to find out that none of this ever happened. As odd as all of this feels, I have to admit that I did enjoy it. The ferris wheel especially was… fun.

As I enter my house, I see my dad sitting on the couch, watching some sitcom on the TV. Right. I completely forgot he’s “different” now.

“Hey, Yuno,” he greets, a bright smile on his face. It’s the first time in a while that I’ve seen his smile. “Did you eat? There’s leftover pizza in the fridge if you’re hungry. I tried to cook dinner, but it didn’t turn out right.” A hearty chuckle leaves his lips, a sound that I vaguely remember hearing years ago.

“I’m good. Thanks,” I say as I head towards the stairs. As my foot lands on the first step, a sudden impulse arises within me. “Uh, dad?”

“Hm?” His eyebrows perk up as he looks at me expectantly. I had no idea what I was planning on saying to him. Should I tell him about my day? Should I apologize? Should I tell him about my… “crush”? Is that what that is?

“Uh… Nevermind.” I hurry up the stairs, deciding against saying anything. My head was already filled to the brim with confusing emotions, I didn’t need to add more to the pile. I collapse onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling, the events of today playing in my mind like a broken record. I pull my phone out, fidgeting with the shiny piece of metal in my hand. Minji put her number in my phone. I can talk to her whenever I wanted to. And I do want to. My thumbs freeze right above the keyboard as I figure out what to say to her.

Maybe I should keep it simple with “Hey”. No, that’s too boring. How about “How are you feeling?” What am I, her doctor? Uhhh, maybe “I had fun today.” That’s stupid. Come on, think, Yuno, think. Fuck, I’m shit at this.

Is this what having a crush feels like? This sucks.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

“AGHHHHHHHHH!!!!” I scream into my pillow, hoping I don’t accidentally alert my parents to my “Teenage Angst”.

Minji!!! Why did you call him cute!? I mean, you’re not wrong, the way he got all embarrassed after missing the basketball hoop was kinda cut- WHAT!? WHAT ARE YOU EVEN THINKING RIGHT NOW!? ARGHHHHHH!!!

I hold onto my bear toy for comfort as I wrestle with the conflicting emotions in my head. Maybe this is just a result of all the stress from prom preparation clouding my judgement and sending me into a whirlwind of confusion. A day that was supposed to be full of leisure and enjoyment was instead full of jealousy and confusion. It wasn’t entirely bad though; riding the ferris wheel with Yuno was… nice. I feel my heart flutter in my chest as I recall that memory. Surely, Hanni’s teasing couldn’t be right… could it? Am I… in love with Yuno Lin?

#newjeans #kim minji #newjeans minji #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #minji x male oc #newjeans minji x male oc #minji x male reader #newjeans minji x male reader #fluff #minji fluff #newjeans minji fluff

281 notes · View notes

sydnikov · 6 months

Text

Carry Me Home || S. Aho

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Sebastian Aho/fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: Sebastian Aho is frustrated with his team’s loss against the New York Islanders. He takes it out on you in a rather primitive way.

Warnings: 18+ smut smut smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up kiddos!), oral (f receiving), bits of dom!Sepe, breeding kink if you squint, cursing, angst, not much fluff in this one

A/N: Surprise! My first smut fic. I hate myself. I blame the Hurricanes playing like shit for making me write this. As usual, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!! I certainly didn’t (kidding) P.S. Title is from “All The Small Things” by Blink 182

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

Sebastian Aho feels fire in his veins. His skin is flushed, hot to the touch, with his hair smoking from sweat-soaked strands boiling into steam. He is a steadily growing inferno, biding his time before unleashing his wrath.

There was no other time in his life he could think of where he had ever felt so frustrated, so angry.

Painful grunts and the sounds of sticks hitting the ice so hard they break echo in his ears, just as the sound of the puck hitting the goal post every time he shot it did, too. In the back of his mind, Sebastian knows that winning takes more than just one player, but yet all he can think is my fault my fault my fault.

He is an alternate captain, after all. It’s his job to help lead his team, to get them the wins they deserve. So ever since the start of this season, why had he been failing to do so?

Sebastian couldn’t dominate the Islanders on his own no matter how much he wanted to… But there is one person he knows he can.

As the Fin aggressively unties his skates, he imagines the strands of your hair tangled in his fingers as the laces get stuck on his glove. As he rips off his undershirt, he imagines doing the same to your bra.

When the reporters ask the same question they do after every game, “What could you have done better?” and pretend not to flinch when he shoots them a glare, he imagines your wide-eyed gaze as he tells you, c’mon, you can take it, yeah?

He kind of wishes he could say the same thing to these fucking reporters as he imagines giving one or two or preferably all of them a black eye—in a different scenario, of course.

Oh, but you are so good to him. He doesn’t deserve you. There is absolutely nothing in this world that can take you away from him, not now and not ever.

The winger speaks to no one except for the coaching staff as he eventually storms out of the locker room, exchanging a few words about practice and something about more line changes before he is finally let go.

Sebastian doesn’t want to think about hockey anymore. He wants to think about you.

Meanwhile, you were planted outside said locker room with a few of the wives and girlfriends, leaning against the wall while you all tried to talk about anything other than the disaster of a game you’d just watched.

It was hard watching the person you love get so upset and disappointed, especially when knowing how much pressure he puts on himself to be a leader of his team. There were many nights laying in bed, his head resting on your chest, that he revealed the bits and pieces of his carefully shielded heart how responsible he feels for his team’s performance.

How every loss chips away at his self-respect, leaving him feeling broken and lost as he struggles to find a way to get his team back on top. He was only one man, yet felt the weight of a thousand suns bearing down on his shoulders, relying on him to score.

And score he tries. Everything he could do he does; he racks up the points, he makes assists, but all his efforts still couldn’t bring them out on top.

You know Sebastian feels worthless, and you aren’t sure how he’s going to express it as you spot him marching up to you.

“Hey,” is your first word to him, spoken softly and carefully before he pulls you into his chest. The first thing you notice is that he feels like a human furnace; the chill you’d become used to after sitting next to an ice rink for over two hours is immediately replaced with warmth, and you can’t help but bury your head into his chest at the feel of it. “I’m sorry, Sepe.”

The pressure he so often feels immediately dissipates at the sound of your voice. Sebastian releases a strained sigh and curls over your body in a protective embrace, his mind racing with millions of words at a million miles per hour but the only ones he can hear are mine mine mine as you look up at him with unbridled affection.

“Kulta,” My honey, he murmurs, wet strands of hair falling over his eyes as he looks down at you. “You’re still here,” he can’t help but say, almost as if he were expecting you to be gone because he didn’t win.

You soften even more if that were possible. “I would never leave you,” you say with conviction, your words meant to be taken innocently yet all Sebastian could think of is the image of you under him as he thrusts into you, making you say the same words over and over again.

“What was that?”

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. C’mon, pretty girl, say it for me again,”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He needs to get you home, immediately.

Lacing his fingers through yours, the Finn presses a heated kiss to your lips, groaning so deep in his chest it has your face flushing a beautiful shade of red which has him thinking truly awful things before the two of you leave the arena.

Sebastian wants nothing more than to take care of you, and thinks briefly that maybe this is a developing unhealthy coping mechanism in the works, but as he opens the car door for you and locks eyes on the way your lips flash him a sweet smile, he can’t find it in himself to care.

You’re just so innocent; it’s in your nature to see the good in everything, to see the good in him despite his less-than holy thoughts. While he doesn’t consider his sex life with you vanilla by any means, he almost feels guilty for all the degrading ways he was thinking of you.

Sebastian was not on top of his game tonight, but he was determined, now, to be on top of you.

Your mind, however, is running rampant in all of the ways you think this night could go, and with Sebastian’s large hand splayed across your thigh as he drives the two of you home, you’re fairly positive in your understanding of what your role is going to be.

It’s funny because you’ve been with him for several years now and he still never fails to get your heart racing. Everything about him has you feeling a certain type of way, especially now as you catch shy peeks of his side profile; clenched jaw, ruffled hair, and blazing eyes…

You can’t help but rub your thighs together, a pleasurable tingle starting low in your belly and spreading warmth throughout the rest of your body as Sebastian gives you a look that spells trouble.

He adjusts the hold he has on your thigh, gripping the flesh just a little bit tighter. “Gonna get you home soon, don’t worry,” he says, almost to himself. It has your eyes widening and your heart beating faster because the tone of his voice is almost feral.

Sebastian is not what you would consider rough in bed. He has his moments, where he uses his strength to flip you over or manhandle you into whatever position he wants, but he’s never been the type to fuck you against a wall or anything of the sorts.

And as dominating as he could sometimes be, his softer side more than made up for it. Sweet but deep kisses to your lips, teeth lovingly nipping marks onto the sides of your breasts, hands roaming all over your body with gentle squeezes and caresses, and a body that seldom ran out of stamina making sure your pleasure always comes before his.

His mouth, however… Sebastian’s mouth is the word ‘dirty’ personified. Sinful lips creating words you’d never want your mother to hear, and a tongue that knew every weak spot on your body to leave you shivering in its wake.

In fact, you couldn’t help but remember the last time his mouth was put to use. Twas the night before, actually, where his body was restless and his solution to getting his energy out was sliding down the length of your body with whispered praises, slipping your panties to the side with his pointer finger, and attaching his lips first thing to your clit—

The sound of your name from the very voice of the man you were just fantasizing about interrupts your thoughts. You quickly turn to find that Sebastian already powered off and exited the vehicle and is holding your door open for you, looking at you with slight concern.

He says your name again when you fail to respond, suddenly starstruck.

Sebastian is just and his arms are so and his lips so full and kissable and him—

The next thing you know, the Finn has wrapped his large hands around your waist and is yanking you out of the car, mouth swooping down to meet your eager lips.

He kisses the life out of you, simultaneously slamming the car door shut so he can press you hard against it. The thought that you have any semblance of control right now slips through your rattled brain not unlike the slickness you can feel dripping down your legs.

He was the epitome of domineering, in no mood to let you think you had any say in what he is going to do to you. Tonight is about him needing a release, and the only way he is going to get it is through you.

Or, rather, by him burying himself so deep inside you you wouldn’t be able to walk for days. The thought has his cock throbbing, unable to resist pressing his hips into the heat between your thighs.

The feeling of his dick against your most sensitive spot has you releasing a breathless whine, and then your kisses become harder against his lips, more desperate.

Sebastian bites at your bottom lip, his own rising into a smirk once he feels rather than hears the resulting gasp catch in your throat. He lets one of his hands rise from the grip he has on your ass to slide carefully around your neck, firmly grasping the front of your throat to bring you closer.

The action has you flat-out whimpering, your hands sinking into the winger’s hair, tugging at the strands so hard he hisses. Now, the Finn is no submissive by any means, but never have you seen him so, so… Dominant.

You decide right then and there that you rather like this side of him.

“Sepe,” you try to speak, but the words catch in your throat again as his kisses move from your lips, past his hand still gripping your throat, and down to the sensitive skin of your collarbone. “—I can’t,”

He hums, your pleas merely background noise as he sucks red marks into your skin. “Can’t what? Gonna have to be more specific, nappula,”

Button. Oh, you are so fucked. Literally. His button. He called you his button. His his his.

Unable to take his slow teasing, you tear him away from your neck to bring him back to your eager lips, a desperate sound crawling up your throat as his hands move to bury themselves in your hair.

“Take me to bed, please,”

Sebastian practically melts at your words. Knowing your desperation, he moves his hands back from your hair down to your thighs, tapping once and then twice where you finally got the memo to jump. He curls your legs over his hips, sliding one hand under your ass with the other pressing supportively against the small of your back.

The five-second walk to the front door has the hand previously holding your back trembling as he fumbles with his keys. Finally opening the door after forcing himself to focus, despite the feeling of your mouth leaving teasing nips and kisses, Sebastian mutters a long string of curses as he hurriedly steps into the house, swiftly kicking the door shut behind him.

“Such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear, his free hand grasping onto the back of your neck to bring you back to his lips. He kisses you sensually, reveling in the softness of your body molding perfectly against his. “Bet you’ve been waiting for me all night.”

You nod rapidly in agreement, hands trying to find purchase on the smooth lines of his suit so you could begin tearing it off of him. “I’m always wanting you, Sepe,”

Sebastian hisses another curse, and the next thing you know your back is landing softly on the large mattress that is his bed. He gives you no time to gather your thoughts before he’s climbing on top of you. His calloused hands slip under your shirt to remove it, granting him full access to knead at your tits.

The forward kisses you again, tongue tracing lines across your bottom lip before forcefully pushing his way in. You can feel him everywhere and nowhere all at once, a strangled sound escaping your throat as his hips start grinding into the throbbing heat between your legs.

“Seb,” you try, back arching as his hands skillfully move to unclasp your bra. “Oh fuck, Seb, please,”

The sound of your cries has Sebastian grinning wolfishly, your desperation filling him with a sick sense of pride. “Please what?”

Suddenly, you understand his teammates just a little bit more when they would call him a little shit and other various, foul nicknames in front of you.

Clumsily grabbing one of his hands from where it was still massaging your tit, your legs fall open as you press his palm directly over the material of your pants, almost positive they were wet. “Please just touch me, please—”

Your babbling is interrupted when he begins peppering your face with soothing kisses, apologetically rubbing his thumb over your nipple while the other makes its way under your pants and down to your slit, thoroughly soaked with your arousal.

“This all for me?” he coos as two fingers run through your lips, taking the natural lubricant to rub tight circles over your clit. “You’re soaked, kisu.”

The resulting mewl that escapes you afterwards lives up to the name he just called you. Kitty.

Sebastian watches your reactions with hooded eyes, taking note of the way your breath hitches when he rubs your clit a certain way; he knows the ins and outs of your body by now, but every time you have sex there is still something new to learn, and there is nothing Sebastian is if not eager to learn. He’s particularly fond of the way you arch into him as he sinks two fingers inside you, grinning as you cry out while the calloused pads of his fingertips curl against the spongy wall of nerves nestled near the front of your walls.

With panting breaths and strangled moans, your thighs shake as his thumb finds its way back to your clit and rubs it in circles the same way his fingers are doing inside you. Your stomach feels as if it’s in knots, hands gripping the sheets beneath you so hard they’ve gone numb, and your mind is blissfully blank except for the repetitive thought of more more more.

You echo this sentiment to him, to which he merely picks up the pace in response. It’s almost too much but a good too much, like the peak of your pleasure is just climbing higher and higher, almost impossible to reach but you can feel it right there—

Suddenly, all pleasurable movements stop. You snap your head up, aghast, cheeks flushed with arousal and now irritation because were were so fucking close and now all you’re left with is a disappointed burn between your legs. “Sebastian, what the actual fuck,”

The very man himself licks his lips, looking all too pleased with the way you’re relying on him to help you finish. “Patience,” is all he says, flashing you a shiny smile before skilled hands are sliding the rest of your pants and underwear down your legs. Instinctively your legs try to close at the feel of cold air hitting your pussy, but Sebastian is having none of it as he swiftly pries your thighs back apart.

“Shy?” He teases, stroking your inner thigh before pulling his shirt off his head. You have a reply prepared, but quickly lose your train of thought as his torso is revealed; Sebastian is all hard planes of muscle, golden skin with a light dusting of body hair, and so distinctly male he has you practically drooling as you reach out to trail your hands down his chest.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his waist to bring his body down on top of yours. You want, no, need him close to you. While your veins were still full of liquid fire, your nerves so hot that every brush of his skin against yours left you quaking, there is still a certain amount of intimacy that could always be found within your actions towards each other.

A certain intimacy that leads to whispered praises like these; Sebastian flushes, momentarily forgetting the role he vowed to take after the agony that had been wreaking havoc in his mind since his team’s loss. “Kulta,” he says, breath hitching as he presses his lips to your neck to taste the light sheen of sweat covering your skin. He kisses your body like you are his shrine, sworn to you in utter devotion. “Kaunis tyttöni.”

My beautiful girl. Every word from that point onward tumbles past his lips in Finnish, because in what other way can he describe the beauty you encapsulate? You are an angel, after all, his angel, in fact, and his only. With his hands settling on the curves of your waist to further cement his point, he continues his assault on your neck with teeth and tongue all while he grinds his covered dick against your bare pussy.

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me, please,”

And just like that, the indescribable need to claim claim claim takes over his body once more. His eyes darken, the lust swallowing his senses moving him to quickly strip the slacks he wore off his legs, and then he reaches into his boxers to pull out his dick.

You could never get over the sight of his cock, you think momentarily as you stare, mesmerized by the flushed head and leaking tip. He took on more girth than length, and to you it’s nothing less than perfect because Sebastian is the only man who has ever gotten you to the point where you’re unable to walk the next day.

Maybe that speaks more of his knowledge of the female anatomy compared to your exes, but nonetheless you’re grateful.

You bite your lip, one of your hands falling from his back to reach down and take his erection in your hand. Sebastian hisses through his teeth at the feeling of you gripping him, and watches for a moment as you stroke him almost gently.

“I’m going to need you to stop that,” he speaks, a groan following right after before he quickly swats your hand away.

You frown, a slight pout on your lips. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to come in two minutes like a teenager if you keep it up, kisu.”

“Well when you say it like that—”

You’re interrupted by Sebastian slamming your lips back together, your words gone just as quickly as they’d come. Oh, how you could kiss him for ages and never be sick of it. You say this to him, or at least attempt to, before his hand not buried in your hair finds its way back down to your clit and rubs rather roughly.

“Want to taste you,” he mumbles, drunk on the sight of you under him as he lines up his dick with your entrance. “Want to taste you so bad. But I need to be inside you first,”

You try to respond, but then Sebastian is kissing you again right as the head of his cock pushes its way into your cunt. It burns, but a good burn because you would never be used to his size and the feel of him sliding deeper sets all your nerve endings on fire. You’re forced to adjust quickly, and something about him not caring if you’re ready or not has you dripping.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, restless hands weaving through his hair and all over his back, refusing to settle. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, too consumed with how good it felt being stretched to lie still beneath him. “Feels so good, Seb,”

“Yeah?” he huffs into your ear, hot breaths against your skin sending shivers down your spine. “God, you’re perfect,” Sebastian groans, his hips suddenly snapping forward. The angle has him hitting the sweet spot inside you perfectly, your walls clamping down tight around him which sends you both spiraling.

You cry out as he begins moving, the strength behind the force of his thrusts staggering because very rarely did he lose control with you. Sebastian tends to treat you like priceless jewelry, but you’re anything but tonight as his teeth sink into your neck to muffle his moans.

His pubic bone rubs against your clit deliciously every time his hips come down, and you couldn’t help but try and tilt your own upwards to match him. Sebastian clearly appreciates your efforts, hissing something that sounds distinctively like a curse.

Past the ringing in your ears, you can hear him muttering to himself. His eyes are squeezed shut against the rolling tides of pleasure coursing through his body, but his mouth is anything but closed. Then his head is lifting suddenly, hair now slick with sweat hanging over his eyes as he looks down at you.

“I need you to come around me,” he says, voice nothing more than a rasp. “Want to feel you squeezing me.”

“Please,” you interrupt, but he either doesn’t hear your plea or chooses to ignore you.

“Then I’m going to taste you, and when you come I’m going to fuck you again.”

Your head is nodding rapidly at his words because there is zero part of you that ever wants him to stop. It was almost primitive the way he was taking you, and you maybe liked it a little more than you should.

Sebastian picks up the pace, and you find yourself thankful - not for the first time - for his insane amount of stamina. The strength conditioning he goes through on a daily basis makes you wonder how he doesn’t just die, but nonetheless you can’t help but appreciate it.

His hands find their way under your back in the midst of your appreciative thoughts, settled on your lower back just above your ass, when he tilts your hips up and his cock strikes the sensitive, spongy spot inside you head-on. It has you keening loudly, uncontrollably—one of your hands previously gripping the sheets jerkily moves to cover your mouth, your own noises embarrassing you.

He doesn’t notice at first, too busy moving his hips in the same pattern as before because he enjoys the way you grip him like a vice, your body’s way of telling him he’s doing a good job, but when he sees you trying to muffle your noises he instantly grows possessive.

Possessive of you, your noises, because in his feral mind everything about you belongs to him and Sebastian doesn’t want you ever holding yourself back. Your name falls from his lips darkly, “You don’t hide yourself from me,” one of his hands drags yours from your mouth, the other splaying across your lower back to keep your body in the same position.

You try to apologize, but your breath escapes you when his hand slides itself down your body, brushing past one of your nipples, then dipping into your navel where his fingers once again find your swollen clit. He rubs quickly, dick ramming into you even faster than before.

Now more than ever Sebastian wants you to come undone beneath him, and soon he gets his wish as the calloused pads of his fingertips roll your clit in time with one, two, and then on the third thrust your entire body seizes.

Tensing, clenching, shuddering—your eyes flutter as your vision goes white, and you feel nothing except for wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure rushing through you. Vaguely, you feel what you think is Sebastian gently continuing his ministrations on your clit in time with slow thrusts, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm.

Then your eyes are opening after what feels like hours but had really only been minutes of you going still. You tense again, this time with sensitivity rather than pleasure, and he reads your body perfectly as he slides out of you, removing his fingers from your clit at the same time.

You come to a realization then, “Wait, you didn’t come,” you murmur, and Sebastian has a mischievous sparkle in his eye that makes you think he held himself back on purpose. You’re proven right when he suddenly slides down your body, hands prying your thighs apart before settling on your hips, holding you open like his very own buffet.

He lets out a long sound, like he still can’t believe you’re right here in front of him, and then his mouth is meeting the slick folds of your pussy. The timespan between your first orgasm and him now feasting on you has your mind reeling, blissfully going numb as his warm, wet tongue licks into you.

“Sepe,” you whine, having not yet decided if you could handle another orgasm so close to your last. He parrots your name back, the vibrations from his voice rumbling pleasantly. “You can take it,” he coos, hooded eyes watching your face as his lips now fully latch onto your clit. He sucks, steadily picking up the intensity until your thighs are shaking uncontrollably.

He doesn’t stop, not as your cries grow louder and you subconsciously try squirming away from him. He just holds your hips down, anyways. As his tongue joins the mix, dipping down to flick at your nub suctioned in between his lips, one of his hands moves down to dip two fingers into your folds.

Sebastian groans at your wet heat enveloping his digits, already greedy for the feeling of you squeezing his dick again. Then he starts thrusting his finger, timing it with the flicks of his tongue, and then you’re coming all over again. “There you go, such a good girl for me,” he praises as your pussy spasms, eagerly lapping up your juices like you’re his favorite meal.

Oh god. You are officially fucked-out. You definitely have a bad case of sex-for-brains. You can’t think beyond the sensitivity of your overwhelmed nether regions, and yet as Sebastian crawls up your body for the third time you can’t help but have your legs fall open to welcome him.

This is new for him, too. Sebastian’s endurance is extraordinary, yes, but he never really let himself use it to his full extent with you. Now, though? He wants to explore the thrill of dominance, of controlling you when everything else in his life slips through his fingers.

Against his will, he thinks of his team for a moment. It’s still too raw of a feeling, he finds, hating the way disappointment and frustration bubbles up inside him. Sebastian swallows roughly, squeezes his eyes shut as if that would help block out the sound of the final buzzer ringing in his ears, and then kisses you to distract himself.

As he lines himself back up with your entrance, you both find that the energized tension between you has cooled significantly. Sebastian is less restless and jerky with his movements, and your desperation has cooled as your legs wrap around his waist. He whimpers into your neck, then, his arms curling under your back to press your bodies even closer together.

Your roles switch, and you whisper sweet and dirty nothings into Sebastian’s ear as his hips roll into you. The head of his cock scratches that delicious part inside of you, and soon your words turn into gasps which are music to his ears. One thrust has you squeezing him particularly hard, and his rhythm stutters. “Fuck, you feel amazing,”

His lips form into an o-shape, and suddenly he finds that his high is coming (hah) much quicker than expected. He expresses such, or thinks he does, because all you do is moan in response when his thrusts pick up speed.

He wants to send you into your third orgasm before letting go himself, and even though Sebastian has been rather selfish tonight, one thing that would never change is that your pleasure would always come before his—no matter what.

“Gonna come for me?” Sebastian teases, lips managing to curl into a brief smirk before you’re squeezing him again, wiping it right off his face. “Yeah? Look so pretty taking my cock, baby,”

“I’m close,”

“I know. Let go for me.”

And let go you do. You seize up, not for the first time tonight, before shuddering with full force in the wake of your third release. Your vision goes white in time with the ringing of your ears as you’re consumed in it, feeling too much but also not enough at the same time because your boyfriend is a force you could never get sick of.

Your walls are squeezing Sebastian like a vice, and it only takes him a few more thrusts as you ride out your orgasm before he’s falling into his own. He groans from deep in his chest, arms shakily moving to rest on either side of your head as he buries his own in your neck.

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as his dick pulses inside you, pumping you full of his cum while you shudder beneath him. It fills Sebastian with a primal sense of satisfaction, knowing he’s claimed you from the inside out.

You’re his, still repeats itself in his mind on repeat, until both of your bodies are spent and he’s rolling off of you exhaustedly. You’re still panting when he turns to look at you, and without hesitation he pulls you into his chest so you can rest your tired body against his.

It takes you a few minutes until you can muster the energy to move, and when you do it’s to tilt your head up to look up at him. You murmur his name, quietly, lest you disturb the fragile peace the two of you find yourselves in. “Sepe?”

“Mhmm?”

“Do you feel better?” It’s a loaded question, you both know, and he takes a few minutes to think about it.

Sebastian’s body feels better, yes. It’s limp, relaxed, the achy tension long-gone from his muscles. The moment he first sank into you he felt immensely better, actually, now that he thinks about it.

His mind, however, is a completely different story.

Colors of red, orange, and blue flash behind his eyes; the colors of his jersey and the opposing team’s, with the haunting sound of the final buzzer still playing in his memory. He thinks of the anger, of his teammates’ faces as they marched defeatedly into the locker room.

No, he thinks with sudden clarity. No, he doesn’t feel better. Sebastian doesn’t say this though; it probably isn’t the answer you want to hear, considering how you explored a new aspect of your relationship tonight.

You know, though. You always know—Sebastian is your better half, and you can understand him more than your own self sometimes, now being one of those moments.

“I love you,” you say after several minutes of silence. Your declaration - the first of the night, he suddenly realizes - says everything he needs to know, about how you feel for him and that he has your support no matter what.

Sebastian swallows, finding that his throat is parched. Lying naked under the sheets, vulnerable and oh-so-exposed, he lowers his head to kiss you sweetly. You mold together softly, and a low rumble can be felt from his chest as you gently nip at his bottom lip.

He is a man of few words, preferring to show his feelings with actions rather than words and this just happened to be one of those moments. He loves you so much, more than words can describe, his lips say, before they gently part from yours.

You admire him in his full glory before he opens his mouth to speak. His hair is incredibly ruffled, from both your hands and the game he played, his full lips swollen red from your kisses, and his eyes have a light sheen to him that suggest he’s more emotional than letting on.

Sebastian raises a hand to your cheek, large yet gentle palm caressing the soft skin as he gazes at you like you’re precious porcelain. “I love you,”

Your lips break into a small smile, and then you’re curling farther into his chest. You’re far too comfortable to move, figuring aftercare in the bathtub can come later. For now, you’re content; your body is sated, and with his cum dripping down your legs you’ve never felt so full with love.

Sebastian knows he has hell to face tomorrow morning. He knows it, but doesn’t really care. For now, in the peaceful silence of his room with only the gentle sounds of your breaths to keep him company, he chooses to forget.

He’s only one man, after all. He can’t carry his team, but he can carry you.

A/N: This is the first time I've written in present tense, which was actually a lot harder than I thought because I kept using past tense action verbs 💀 it was a fun challenge though!! Hopefully my parents never ask me what exactly it is that I write about because. Uh. Yeah. Once again, please reblog and comment :))

────────────────────────────────

Taglist: @ballsakic @bbbbruins @kapriz0v @girlmeetsamerics @bbnhlqueen7 @iwantahockeyhimbo @sebbyaho @heatherawoowoo @matsbarzal @nillspettersson @teuvomakesmesmile @typical-simplelove @grittysbattinggloves @stars-canucks @nachodaze @besthockeyfics @sidcrosbyspuck @ilyasorokinn @ssebastianaho @sepeteuvo @drei-mrssvechii @tanninetanya @insomniren @hyppeln-agnes @canesqueen @the-jarvy-party @martynecass @yagetintoit @2manytabsopen @huggy-hischier4394 @diary-of-kk @estapa94 @spacesurfing @ellswilliams @pbandj14 @cixrosie @poufsouffle21

Add yourself to my 18- (SFW) Taglist here!

Add yourself to my 18+ (NSFW) Taglist here!

324 notes · View notes

callsignangel · 1 year

Text

please don't leave me - lo'ak x metkayina! fem reader

warnings: imagery of death, angsty one sided pining word count: 976 (sorry besties it's short) a/n: hi friends. i was inspired by moana and then i made it sad lol. there's no use of y/n in this fic, and there are probably some inaccuracies because i’ve only seen the movie once so far haha. reblogs and feedback about my work is deeply appreciated!! <3 my requests are open as well!!

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

i know a girl from an island she stands apart from the crowd she loves the sea and her people she makes her whole family proud…

being the daughter of the village chief wasn’t easy. you were the precious secondborn child to ronal and tonowari, adored by your people and doted on by your parents… but you would never be tsireya.

she was responsible, selfless, compassionate and of course, beautiful. always did as she was told, stayed out of trouble, would fiercely defend her family if she needed to. never talked back, cared deeply for the wildlife, made sure she stayed inside the reef. she was the perfect golden child.

you on the other hand, were headstrong, curious, defiant. you were also willing to defend your family fiercely, but also those who were unable to defend themselves. ready to fight. ready for the next big adventure. trouble always seemed to find you, regardless of how hard you tried to stay out of it. there was so much more to life than just staying in the same village, doing the same things everyday for the rest of your life. so, you were often found outside of the reef with your ilu, your spear and your thoughts - much to your parents disdain.

when the sullys came, you had tried to avoid being caught up in the excitement of guests, but of course you had been dragged to the front by your brothers. you greeted the family respectfully like you had been taught to, but your eyes lingered on a certain boy. he had 2 strands of hair hanging on the side of his face adorned with rainbow beads. his lips curled into a tiny smile as he gestured to you, but as tsireya walked out from the water he turned and his smile dropped, eyes widening.

that’s when you knew he would never be truly yours. you could give him the sun, pandora’s moon, the stars, anything he could possibly want - but he would always be tsireya’s. he never hesitated to rush to her if she needed help, or if she wanted to go for a walk, he was with her as much as he could be. and it crushed you. you tried to hide those feelings, focusing on how when you were old enough you would travel beyond the reef and finally fulfill what you thought was your purpose. but if he ever asked, you would throw all of that away for him. you both had so much more in common, but that wasn’t enough.

when the skypeople attacked, both you and you sister fought valiantly at the sully’s side. they had done too much damage to your island for you to stand in the sidelines. they went after the tulkun, killing roa, your mother’s spirit sister and her calf, and killing liyanin, your spirit sister in the midst of their rampage. you rushed at lo’ak’s side to help him warn payakan, coming head to head with the skypeople. they had captured you, lo’ak, tsireya and tuk aboard their warship, handcuffing you to the side as bait for their father. you tried not to despise him for bringing his war to your home, or for favoring neteyam over his second son. he treated them like soldiers rather than children and lo’ak would never be as good at neteyam in his parents’ eyes, much like you would never be as perfect as tsireya to your parents. maybe it should’ve been neteyam you fell for, maybe it would’ve been easier on your heart. but eywa and her will had other plans.

as soon as you had been cut free you should have ran to save yourself, but lo’ak couldn’t leave his adoptive brother spider behind. like the warrior you are, you followed him and neteyam to help. tsireya and tuk had run to find safety beyond the battle, and here you were running head first back into it. being sneaky was never one of your strong suits like it was for the forest boys. grabbing one of the guns the dead skypeople had dropped, you shot anything and everything you could in every direction to help them jump into the water free from harm. dropping the gun and diving head first yourself, the water seemed to fill your lungs faster than it ever had before.

you had been shot. shielding neteyam from the bullets flying your way, one of them had gone right through your chest, a little below your collarbone. gasping, flailing, coughing up blood as they pulled you onto an ilu towards a bout of rocks amongst the warship carnage. tsireya’s screams and cries filled the air, her hands covering your bullet wound in an attempt to prevent blood loss.

“no, no, no!” lo’ak cried, one hand gripping yours and the other resting upon your face.

“stay with me, stay with me. you need to keep your eyes open, please.” you couldn’t help but softly smile. it was your lo’ak here with you as you lay dying. his family surrounded you, silent as they watched your rugged breathing slow.

“take care of her for me, okay?” tsireya gripped your other hand, and you gave it as strong of a squeeze as you could. you stared at the stars, the sounds of their pleading growing quieter as you crossed into eywa’s arms.

lo’ak cradled your lifeless body in his arms, sobbing, kissing your face like he wished he had done when you were still alive. he rocked back and forth has he tucked the stray wet hairs behind your ears and away from your face.

“i love you, please don’t leave me,” he chanted. i love you. i love you. i love you. if only he had told you sooner.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵

i will carry you here in my heart you’ll remind me that come what may i know the way…

2K notes · View notes

eyelessfaces · 2 years

Text

drenched flowers

marc spector x reader

summary: you and marc had a serious fight and have been avoiding each other since. the tension is hard to handle for everyone, and your only wish is to make things right again between you and marc, only he strictly refuses to front...

warnings: angst, allusions to fighting obviously, i think that's it but please tell me if you can think of anything else while reading?

tags: gn!reader, hurt/comfort, it ends well I promise, fluff, marc being his grumpy and angsty and emo self, steven and jake are here too for emotional support

word count: 2.2k

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!!

Jake had yelled at him to confront you so the situation could get better; Steven had begged him to apologize because he saw how affected you were, but all Marc could do for now was to frown in disgruntlement and put a towel over the mirror to prevent himself from smashing it.

Not seeing them anymore didn’t change much as the two men still kept on ranting, but somehow it gave Marc the impression of having more control over the situation.

At least that was what he thought.

The resonating sound of the front door closing quickly left him to let Steven be in charge of the body for your return, to avoid heavy gazes and deafening silences in the flat.

It had been like this for a little more than a week.

This freezing, uncomfortable atmosphere everytime Marc fronted – which he rarely did lately for those reasons –, with the both of you avoiding your presences and throwing snarky remarks at each other every time you really had to talk. You couldn’t say this was enjoyable, In fact this was a pain for everyone, including Steven and Jake, and you knew that this whole situation caused them to fight too.

Steven exited the bathroom, sighing loudly now that Marc gave up on fronting.

He and Jake had found common ground in trying to convince Marc to apologize, but Marc was stubborn and headstrong so this was a lost cause.

Steven looked up and smiled at you when he noticed you were there.

“Hey love” he huffed out with a smile, walking to you to help with the bags of groceries. “How was your day?” he asked as he walked to the kitchen, putting the bags on the island. You followed him and offered him a sigh before answering his question.

“Really meh. Could have been better” you said while unloading the bags and putting away their content. “People at work were rude and people at the store were standing right in front of what I wanted to pick. Each time”

He chuckled in response and turned to stand in front of you.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll take care of the bags, go take care of yourself” he smiled before kissing your forehead.

“Thank you Steven. And you, did you have a good day? What had you sighing when I arrived?” you asked, smoothing the collar of his shirt.

“Oh, that? Had a little chat with the gentlemen. Didn’t go so well” he declared as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You nodded, pressing your lips together skeptically, noting that you weren’t the only one having trouble talking to Marc. You closed your eyes and hugged Steven tight.

The only good thing about your fight with Marc was that the affection you didn’t give to Marc, you gave to Steven and Jake.

Sadly.

—

Steven whistled softly as he beelined to the bedroom area with two hot chocolates in hands. You telling him you had a bad day always resulted in this and cuddles, and usually never failed to make you feel better.

But Steven understood the situation was worse than that when he noticed you were curled up on your side, wiping away warm tears running down your face.

“Steven.” Jake called out. Steven caught his alter’s glare in the full length mirror, an empathetic expression on his reflection. “Let me take care of that”

Steven surrendered the body to Jake without a word nor a question, and Jake walked around the bed to put down the cups on the bedside table before snuggling up behind you.

He pressed his chest against your back and snaked his arms around your waist before brushing away the hair sticking to your face because of the tears, and nuzzled the back of your neck.

“Jake” you breathed out in a barely audible sound.

The tight grip around you made you notice the change.

Jake shifted and left a kiss on your damp cheek. “I’m here, amor” he whispered. “I got you.”

You sighed and interlaced your fingers with his.

You both stayed here in silence, Jake softly caressing your stomach and kissing your shoulder from time to time while you tried to calm down and stop crying. The silence was somehow comforting and cathartic, even though you would rather have Jake have a normal evening rather than having to bear with you and your feelings.

“I miss him.” you muttered under your breath after a while. “I miss Marc”

Jake hesitated before talking, not sure of what he should say to try to make you feel better.

“I know, I’m sorry honey” he said as he blinked tiredly, hearing Marc sigh softly. “He won’t tell us anything but I’m pretty sure he misses you too.” he declared sternly as he caught Marc’s remorseful and shameful face in the reflection of the fish tank. “I’m sure he does.” he said as his brows furrowed at Marc and his hold tightened around you.

Marc’s shoulders slouched under the weight of guilt and the man couldn’t feel anything except utter frustration.

—

When you woke up the next morning they were gone. The spot next to you in the bed was cold as if a ghost was laying there and the flat was dead silent.

The only sound present was the rain pouring in the streets of London, raindrops quickly running down the windows considering how violent the precipitation was.

You sat up straight, pushing the covers away from your body.

This wasn’t normal.

Steven wasn’t supposed to be at the museum today, Jake wasn’t supposed to drive around today, and both of them would have told you if Marc was supposed to go on a mission for Khonshu.

The freezing temperature and that feeling of worry lodged deep inside of you made you shiver, urging you to put on one of Marc’s hoodies; the only proximity you could get from him from these past days.

You wandered around the flat, looking for any sign that they were here, but there were none.

You tried to be rational, you tried not panicking, so you ran to take your phone and call them.

He stepped into the flat, soaked from the rain. The previously slicked back curls were now falling in front of his face, thick drops of water falling on the old wooden floor.

He sighed as he watched the drenched flowers in his hand, petals falling down in a depressing way as they had been hammered by the rain.

Even buying you flowers he couldn’t do right, he thought.

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard the creak of the front door. You urged yourself to the entry, and let out a sigh of relief at the sight of your boyfriend back home.

“You’re here– Aw Jake” you cooed – almost out of breath from nearly freaking out – at the sight of the bouquet of flowers.

The man in front of you cleared his throat and pinched his lips in a signature awkward smile and you knew.

“Oh”

Marc adjusted his position of his feet and held out the bouquet to you.

“I, uh–” he paused and sighed. “You know I’m better with actions than with words, but I still need to tell you that I’m sorry.” he affirmed weakly, voice barely audible.

You walked up to him and took the flowers.

They looked beaten up, tired, but still beautiful.

“It started raining as soon as I left the flower shop, sorry… For that and for everything else.” Marc muttered under his breath.

You looked up at him and observed his pained expression.

Marc looked just like the flowers. Beaten up, tired, but still beautiful.

“...Marc” you huffed out, shaking your head.

“I’m really sorry. I mean it. I’m an asshole” he said nodding.

He was angry at himself, and he was sad, but he was first of all sorry.

He was sorry because he didn’t mean those words to slip out, sorry because he thought he couldn’t be the boyfriend you deserved to have, sorry because all of this should have never happened.

“They’re alright” you smiled, looking back at the flowers. “I think I like them more that way.”

“You don’t have to–”

“I mean it.” you cut him off, still staring at the flowers. There was something poetic about them being crushed by the rain.

“I hate pretending not to care about you.” he let out abruptly. You looked back at him, and raised your eyebrows. “I can’t stand it.” he declared, the inner corner of his brows angled up, attesting of his vulnerability.

You sighed as a shiver ran up your spine and tears started to threaten your eyes.

“Marc–” you started.

“You know I love you, right?” he cut you off, chasing your gaze.

You let out a shudder, quickly looking away from him because you knew you would start crying if you kept on looking at his face.

You looked at the rain-painted thin windows and nodded.

“I know”

Your voice resonated through the apartment, as if it was an abandoned building.

The wood floors creaked under Marc’s feet as he took a step towards you, and you let the bouquet of flowers fall to the floor, a barely audible sound compared to the sigh of relief you let out when you crashed into Marc’s arms.

“Fucking hell, you’re a pain in the ass, Marc Spector” you groaned against his chest, and he let out a sigh of relief and chuckle.

“I know, I’m sorry” he replied almost too seriously, wrapping his arms around you too. “I’m sorry” he repeated, and you dug your nails into his damp jacket, holding him tighter.

You stayed like this for a while, a few tears unwillingly running down your cheeks, just appreciating each other's presence and the relaxing feeling of being able to be in the same room without fighting.

Being able to hold him close and to finally get that proximity you had been missing and craving felt reviving.

“Baby get off me, you’re gonna catch a cold” he advised.

“Damn, not even two minutes since we made peace and you already don’t want me anymore” you joked, quickly pecking his lips before reluctantly pulling away from his drenched clothes.

He chuckled as he took off his jacket and put it over the radiator, watching as you picked up the bouquet of flowers from the floor.

“Those flowers were expensive” he grumbled, pushing away the curls falling over his forehead.

“It’s okay. I don’t need flowers to forgive you, Marc” you declared as you went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and put the flowers in it. You didn’t need those flowers to forgive him, but your heart still ached positively at the action. He was worried about their depressing state, but you couldn’t care less; they were flowers and no matter how they looked they remained flowers: beautiful and significant.

A small smile formed on his face, and he quickly kicked his shoes off to go and change into dry clothes.

You came back to him, slouching down on the bed as he thoroughly searched through the drawers of clothes.

He let out a grunt of frustration. “Where’s my–”

“Hey” you called.

“–Hoodie” he continued as he turned to you, rolling his eyes when he realized you were wearing it. He crashed next to you on the bed and you laughed. “Thief” he mumbled under his breath, laying his head over your stomach.

“Don’t be dramatic” you teased him as you covered your hand with the sleeve of his hoodie, ruffling his wet hair with it. “Want it back?”

“No that’s okay, my shirt’s not actually that wet” he said as he looked up at you. “And you somehow happen to look good with it, so…”

“‘Somehow happen?’ asshole” you laughed as you sat up to tickle his ribs, causing him to wriggle and writhe under your touch.

“Sto– Stop this!” he laughed, out of breath. You giggled and freed him of your tickles, laying back down on the bed. “You don’t want me to piss my pants on this bed” he affirmed.

“I don’t want you to piss your pants period.” you chuckled, and he shifted to plant his elbow right next to your face. He stared at you for a second, observing your face carefully.

“I love you” he whispered, stroking your cheek with the back of his other hand.

“Marc you can’t tell me you love me right after we talk about piss” you frowned, and he smiled softly.

“Oh yeah can’t I?” he asked teasingly, cocking an eyebrow.

“Let’s just say it’s not the most romantic thing.”

“Jake says anything can be romantic,” he shrugged.

“Jake is fucking delusional” you huffed out with a laugh.

“Steven agrees”

You bowed your head. “Thank you for being a reasonable man Steven.” you laughed, mirroring Marc’s action and planting your elbow into the mattress and holding your face with your hand too. “That being said, I love you too.” you grinned. “I missed you” you continued, brushing back the humid curls at the side of his face.

“I missed you too” he muttered. “I regret what I’ve said and done.”

“I do too. We’ll be okay.” you promised, pushing him to lay against his chest. He caged you with his arms, burying his face into your hair.

“I think we’ll be.” he whispered, closing his eyes. “I’m sure we’ll be.”

—

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!!

moon knight taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @scarabgrant @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @missmarmaladeth @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @beccabecs521 @wibblywobblytimesindeed

2K notes · View notes

lokisprettygirl · 3 months

Text

Utopia (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x female reader) (Non Canon AU) (18+)

Read chapter 6 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 7

Summary: Daemon eases your fears and worries.

Warning: 18+ sex ,period sex (if it bothers you skip the scene) death and destruction that comes from a ship wreckage, smut, sex, menstrual sex, unprotected sex. Some inconsistency with ship sinking, i researched as much as I could

“Are you alright?” Emma's voice was filled with concern as she asked you if you were okay, noticing the distress that was evident on your face. The two of you had just left Lily's house, and Emma could sense the negative effect it had on you.

“I'm fine..just want to go home” Emma sighed as you said that. She could tell that you were not alright, but she didn't know how to help without you opening up to her.

“Y/n I know you have always liked him but him and Lily have always been this way..they fight, fuck other people and then get back to each other.. don't you remember how he treated you on the ship after he slept with you?” you turned your head to look at her as she said that. Emma's words had struck a chord in your heart, reminding you of the awful morning when Daemon had completely dismissed you post the one night stand .

“Yeah? Always huh? How many times have they survived a ship sinking incident before? How many times before Daemon was left stranded on an island with someone else? This is not the same thing..why it's so hard for you guys to understand” you got visibly agitated as you finished your sentence, your voice raised as you tried to express that you and Daemon weren't just a fling.

“I'm just trying to protect you..” she mumbled softly so you sighed.

“I know but I also know what I'm doing..do you have any idea what I have been through with Daemon on that Island? You can't just get over that stuff and move on with your life as if nothing happened. He …he knows me..I know him..six months ..we were .. everything to each other” your eyes teared up and you hated how weak you felt in the moment. You always felt this way whenever Daemon was in the picture.

“But he's not on that Island anymore and neither are you..he's back here in the actual world where Lily is”

You didn't say anything as she said that. After what Lily had said about him fucking her last night and seeing things from Emma's perspective you felt hurt and worried. You asked him clearly if he had fucked her and he said no, did he lie to you? Why would he lie to you and hurt you like that?

“Do you want me to find a job for you? Dalton was asking about you” she said as she pulled the car in your driveway so you took your seat belt off, you just wanted to go home and cry.

“Not right now, last time you hooked me up with a job ..things didn't work out so well”

You heard the literal gasp she let out as you jabbed at her. That was mean and uncalled for but anger was bubbling inside you at the moment and Daemon wasn't there to take it.

You entered your bedroom, exhausted from the emotional upheaval. As you collapsed onto your bed, you noticed a missed call and a few text messages from Daemon on your phone. Taking a deep breath, you picked up your phone and opened the message.

You didn't want to ignore him and you certainly didn't want to hurt him by making assumptions about him, he told you something and you wanted to believe him but insecurities from the past ran deep and this wouldn't be the first time a man would cheat your trust like this. Instead of wrestling with your thoughts you dialed his number instead,

“Am I being ignored?” He asked as soon as he picked up so you sighed.

“Why would you say that?”

“What did she say to you..love?” his tone of voice made it clear that he was genuinely concerned.

“Where are you?” you asked him nonchalantly, your voice didn't really hold any emotion at the moment.

“I'm with my lawyer, had to discuss uhhh.. some fortune related complexities..are you back at your place?” He enquired so you barely hummed in response “Can I come see you?”

“You don't have to ask me” he chuckled as you said that,

“I'm trying to be more civilized and less of a caveman”

“Don't you want to go see Lily?” you asked him with sarcasm and envy dripping from your tone.

“Not right now, I want her to move on.. darling.. whatever she said to you that's making you all squeaky and snappy at me .. I will fix it yeah? And then you're going to fix me” you couldn't help but bite on your lip as his words made you feel slightly bashful.

“Okay” you could hear him smiling on the other end of the line as you mumbled a short response again.

Half an hour later as you opened the door and saw Daemon standing there, with his arms behind his back and a mischievous smirk on his face, you felt your heart skip a beat. The peach ribbed shirt he was wearing just added to his charm, it made you want to snuggle against him. Despite your feelings for him, the idea of him breaking your trust and lying to you was breaking your heart in ways you couldn't even begin to imagine.

The only reason why you weren't crying yourself to sleep for the past two days was because of him, the past month when you both were avoiding each other was difficult to say the least. The nightmares about drowning in the ocean had become a frequent occurrence, leaving you feeling frightened and restless. The fact that he was the only thing preventing you from giving in to the emotional distress that had been haunting you was both a comfort and a burden. But he was the only one who truly understood you because he was there suffering with you.

“Flowers for the beautiful lady” he held one of his hands forward to present you with a bouquet of beautiful flowers so you grabbed it and took in their scent “Chocolates” he then brought his other hand forward so you grabbed the box and went into your room, acting like a petulant child, it didn't do anything to deter him, he actually found you adorable like this.

He was expecting a kiss and a hug but this morning when you had told him that you were tagging along with Emma to visit Lily, he was terrified, not because he had anything to hide from you but because he knew as a matter of fact that she'd try to fill your head against him to drive wedge between you both. He was well aware of her vindictive ways when she was scorned like this.

“We need to stop meeting like that at your door” he mumbled as he entered the bedroom door and you were already on the bed with your face down into the pillow.

You felt his lips trail up from your calves to your hamstrings and he spent a good minute on your ass cheeks before he kissed up from the small of your back very slowly. Shivers ran down your spine as he moved up and pulled your hair aside to kiss your nape. You turned around to look at him and your teary eyes rendered his heart, your delicate features always softened him.

“If it wasn't for us being stranded on that Island you'd never date me would you?” You asked him as you caressed his cheeks with your fingers, you always feared that your connection with him was rooted in the shared trauma of the island and would fizzle soon.

“Yeah that might be true but not because there's something wrong with you or that you're not insanely attractive but because I wouldn't really get to know you like this..so intimately in every possible way”

You felt his fingers brush lightly against your chest, resting right above your heart, and you couldn't help but feel the burst of emotions.

His hand then drifted under your skirt as he leaned down to kiss you lovingly, palms wrapped around your hips as he pulled you into him so you sighed and closed your eyes to feel him close.

“You used to visit Paradise with Emma ” your eyes snapped open as he mentioned that.

Paradise was the name of the club The Dragonriders played at frequently and you used to go there on weekends before you even took the job on Utopia. “I'd often watch you dance from afar..you never even looked at me back then you know.. didn't even notice me” he mumbled softly in your ears so you cupped his cheeks again.

“I didn't know you..you were just a stranger”

“Exactly darling.. sometimes you have to learn the person inside out to truly appreciate them. I know i was unfair and cruel to you after that night we had spent together but it was my immaturity speaking..now i know better” you sighed as he said that, your hands sneaked inside his shirt as he leaned into you for a kiss again. He was irresistible at all times but especially when he was on top of you like this.

“You look cute in your pretty little skirt baby, my brave girl ..now are you going to sulk some more or you'd tell me what it is she said to you that is messing with your head?” he asked you, his voice was still gentle but firmer this time. You didn't want to beat around the bush either.

“She told me that you made love to her last night after you dropped her off and then later on she went into detail about how magical it was for both of you”

He looked at you intensely for a moment before he chuckled slightly as if he had it coming..

Somehow that reaction eased your fear, it was Lily's words against the man you had faced the worst of life with. If he was going to tell you that he hadn't fucked her then you'd have to believe him.

You'd have to put your faith in him because he deserved that much from you..

“Do you know why I came so hard inside you last night?” he asked you softly as his thumb brushed over your lips before he kissed you again.

“Whyy?”

“Because it has been a full day since I had done that.. since I had felt you around me so intimately. I might be an uncivilized animal at times but I'd never hurt you like that. Especially not you ..not after everything we have been through together”

You cupped his cheeks and your fingers ran through his scalp as he said that, his words felt sincere and a part of you believed him wholly, something made you believe that Daemon would never hurt you like that no matter what.

“You're not an uncivilized animal…just my big burly Cavemon” a smile graced his features as you cooed at him.

“Believe me yeah?”

“Okay.. sorry”

“Shhh it's not your fault..”

“No I'm sorry she said that about you and i believed her because I'm afraid and insecure”

“We all are at times..i fixed the problem..now you fix me” you giggled as he tickled your stomach with his fingers.

“Stahp ..it's almost my second day now..there will be clumps and stuff coming out of my goodies” he looked at you intently as you said that, his eyes darkened with consumable lust.

“If you intended for that to disgust me..it's not working”

“Your kinks are kinky..have you always had this one?” you questioned as you lifted your head up to kiss his neck.

“Not until you..”

“But you fucked your ex on her cycle”

“Not for the kink”

“It's just strange for me…my ex was disgusted just by me mentioning my period clumps”

“What an imbecile huh?

You giggled as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he made you sit up along with him.

“We are doing this my way today” you mumbled as you took your crop top and skirt off, Daemon got off the bed and he quickly undressed himself with the speed of lighting, when he climbed back on the bed you removed your underwear and threw it on the floor,

“You won't mind if I bleed on you right?”

“Fuck darling …noo” he almost moaned at the picture you had painted for him, you climbed on his lap and sat yourself down on his cock slowly, inch by inch, he wasn't really an average man in length or girth so you needed to go slow for your own sake, his legs splayed out on the bed as you submerged him completely and he placed his hands around your hips as you moved in circles slowly. His head swayed backwards and moans spilled from his throat as you worked your hips back and forth.

“I noticed you..” you mumbled against his mouth as you kissed him so he opened his eyes and looked at you all perplexed. He looked cute like this, all fucked out and pleasured the way he deserved to be pleasured.

“Mmm?”

“In the club..i noticed you..but you always had your eyes on her”

“Darling, do you believe in fate?” his voice came out in whispers as the sensation grew in the pit of his stomach,

“Not really”

“I do”

“Why?”

“I just do..I think it was fate that brought us together. Why do you think we were accommodated right next to each other when all the people we knew were a deck below from us?”

“Duuh management”

“Was it management that left us stranded together on that Island?” his fingers dug into your hips as he helped you hop on top of him.

“No it was my stupidity”

“Mmm really? You want to tell me that those strong waves somehow managed to bring us together on that very same island where we collapsed not even six feet apart from each other because of you? And both of us miraculously lived through it while none of those other people survived?”

“I don't know what to say..you're romanticizing the tragedy” his fingers curled into your hair and he pulled you closer to kiss you before he spoke,

“I have earned the right to do so ..now be a good girl and fucking cum with me”

You kissed him hungrily and the rest of the rebuttals you had didn't really come out as you fell apart in his arms as soon as you felt his warm cum filling you up to the brim. He placed his head on your chest as you both recovered from the euphoria but it lasted a good while.

Your head felt fuzzy as you had never been fucked this good, sex had never been so satisfying before. It was as if your body connected to him on a much deeper level than just physical, sex with him transcended you and filled you with intense emotional and mental release.

“If you pull out right now I'd ruin my bed so take me to the shower alright?” He chuckled briefly before he dragged his shapely arse off the bed and took you to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and as soon as he pulled out, his cum mixed with your blood spilled out of your freshly fucked cunt. His cock was absolutely bloody as well and you heard him gasp as he glanced at it. His fingers immediately caressed your lips as he cleaned the mess between your legs so you fisted his cock and returned the favor.

“I missed one therapy session and I was a major bitch to Emma this morning” you mumbled as you came back to reality from the mind numbing orgasm you had experienced just now..

“What did you do?”

“You know how they keep telling us in therapy to not blame other people for what happened as it was nobody's fault?” He nodded as you said that while he rubbed the body wash between his palm and turned you around to scrub your back.

“I think I did just that and I feel awful”

“Mmmm then apologize sweetheart and talk it out…these things happen amongst friends. I called Cole this morning to wish him for the birthday and we had a chat, he understands me better now”

“It's his birthday today?”

“Yup and we are invited, I'm sure he'd text you about it”

You hummed as he said that, as you placed your head down on his chest he wrapped his arms around you while you two enjoyed the hot shower in the comfort of your bathroom. Sometimes when you closed your eyes you imagined yourself being back at the island with him but you were only thinking about the times that weren't so awful, like bathing with him in the sea and walking around the woods in search for fruits, and most of all sleeping all huddled together on the bed of leaves every night.

You missed that, you really did miss it at times.

“Daemon?’

“What would you like for your birthday?” you asked him as you realized it would come soon as well, you were on the island when you turned 27, he had gone out of his way to collect fresh coconut water and had made a fruit platter for you which was more than enough on that forsaken place.

“I want your trust and faith in me” you turned around as he said that and kissed him softly.

Besides he was planning something to surprise you with instead, he had a meeting with his lawyer for the same reason and his lawyer certainly didn't think it was a great idea to go forward with this but he knew he wanted to do this, for both of you.

“And i want to take you somewhere with me” he said to you

“Mmmm where?” You giggled as your heart skipped a beat. You just hoped he wasn't going to take you to meet his family just yet. It felt too soon for that.

“It's going to be a surprise, hence the trust and faith demand“

“I trust you baby” his lips curved into a sweet smile as you said that.

The plan moving forward was to take a nap with him and it was very cozy until he began shivering in his sleep, telltale sign of a nightmare and you knew what it was about, it was about that night in the woods that he had spent all alone without you, he deeply struggled with the memory of the night and it was very hard on him so you know he was reliving the same trauma in his sleep. Or that's what you thought.

You didn't know that he was having a nightmare but not about being stranded in the woods but about you being bitten by that spider, he always had a nightmare about that night where instead of you being alright the next morning he saw your dead lifeless body and he was left all alone without his brave girl by his side.

When he woke up he pretended as if he wasn't affected by the nightmare in the slightest and asked you to get ready as you were both invited to the Paradise for Cole's birthday. Luckily Lily wasn't there because of her injury but the group had decided to visit her post drinking.

When you reached hand in hand with him, it felt a little awkward, people who recognised you kept staring and you felt like an animal in the zoo. The attention was uncomfortable, as you just wanted to blend in with the other people and enjoy the evening without the scrutiny.

Life had changed in more ways than one, at times you were not even Daemon or y/n, you were just that couple that was stranded on an island for six months. Whenever you were out in public, people would inevitably make reference to your story, and you found yourself being treated like a celebrity. You felt objectified though as if there was nothing more to you anymore than what you had suffered.

After greeting Cole as you spotted Emma you walked towards her.

“How's D?” She asked you so you looked at her confused for a moment.

“Daemon? He's doing okay umm-”

“No the Dick..how's his dick..is it as good as rumored?” she asked you as she crossed her arms so you pulled her into a hug.

“I'm sorry em.. I'm so sorry for being such a bitch when you were just looking out for me”

Your eyes teared up as you spoke to her so she hugged you as tightly as you were hugging her.

“It's okay..I get that..they tell me not to take it personally..you both have been through something none of us can imagine living through” you looked down as she said that.

“That's not an excuse to lash out but I'll be careful i promise..now let's get drunk..it's been a while and you're going to reveal every tea about Aemond” she blushed bright red as you whispered the last part in her ear. You were happy for her, she deserved someone making her happy and gleeful like this.

A band was performing in the club and you noticed how Daemon kept looking at them while they played as if wondering about his own time on the stage, you knew he missed singing and being up there.

Afterwards when the group decided to go see Lily you chose to opt out but Daemon insisted and pleaded until you gave in, perhaps seeing him with you would finally make her back off a little bit and she'd realize that Daemon has moved on from their toxic relationship.

However as you all turned up at her place you saw a man leaving her house, you recognised him even though nobody else did, it was one of the major crew members at Queen Utopia, Danny something, you didn't remember his full name but he was the man Lily was with that night. He handled the maintenance of the cargo area.

As he walked past you he looked you right in the eye, you saw something in those eyes but you couldn't put your finger on it.

They always told you to not put blame on anyone as the tragedy was nobody's fault but what if it was somebody's fault? And what if it was Danny who had something to do with it?

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Taglist

@mcufan72 @123forgottherest @shuichiakainx @stupidthoughtsinwriting @tmlbdv

@ammo23 @anukulee

#modern daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen x reader smut #daemon targaryen x reader angst #daemon targaryen x reader fluff #non canon au #modern day au

90 notes · View notes

heart2beom · 1 year

Text

colon and a parenthesis

pairing: bestfriend!beomgyu x f!reader

genre: fluff, light hearted angst/comfort, best friends to ...lovers? drabble (an attempt), best friends who live together!!

synopsis: getting played has got to be the worst feeling ever. for you, you go through that heartbreak every other month. and now you're wailing on your best friend's shoulder again, for the hundredth time, ruining his hoodie. again.

a/n: "he doesn't deserve you" i'm such a basic bitch because the way i squeal over this line...was watching this show that is totally devoid of any romance subplot but i was okay with it because its a good show!! then this cute guy playing the best friend role just says this and im folding. like im being serious, i would've asked what we were. anyways ahahahahahaha, enjoy this as i slave myself into finishing my other bf2l beomgyu fic.

"Why do you look like that?"

You blink, processing his words before turning around, cereal box in hand. "What? What do I look like?" You pat your free hand around your face in attempt to figure out what incited that reaction. If it's an unwanted pimple, you're going to go insane.

Beomgyu huffs out a laugh through his nose, still eating his cereal. "I don't know, it's like you didn't get sleep for the past three decades."

He doesn't catch the roll of your eyes since he's focused on his phone, eating his breakfast but you still make sure to do it anyway. You pour the lucky charms in the bowl, the mention of your tired state gets you fighting the large grin overtaking your face. Reason?

You haven't slept a wink last night, inevitably a bad choice since you have morning classes, but digressing, it had to be the most magical of all nights. You recently got Mingi's number, the cute boy in your Music Comp class, who you've been notably crushing on for weeks.

Beomgyu knows this, obviously since you practically tell him everything, but what he doesn't know is that you've done some progression with your pining.

Other than the fact that he's cute, you find out he's also quite funny and witty, all throughout yesterday's overnight chat. Mingi's absolutely perfect. Like a prince charming. You don't even care that you have to spend extra time covering up your under eyes, it's what comes with the package that is Song Mingi.

You set your cereal on the kitchen island, sitting on the stool next to Beomgyu. Checking your phone for umpteenth time today, reading through the texts from last night still makes you smile a little too hard at the realization that yesterday night was in fact real.

You catch Beomgyu turning his head to you, brows furrowed like he was thinking of what to say, still chewing his food. "So?"

You lay your phone face down, "So what?"

"What happened?"

You realize he's talking about your dark circles. "Nothing, nothing happened. Was just studying all night," your eyes look up from your bowl of cereal to Beomgyu's doubtful eyes. "You know, pointing these things out to a woman is very disrespectful."

He laughs, and turns away shaking his head. Beomgyu was equally as tired looking so it wasn't like he had the right to make a comment. His ginger hair had strands poking out everywhere, dark circles even more evident under his eyes. It made sense, he worked late night shifts, and when he didn't, he'd stay up all night anyway, playing video games.

Yesterday he didn't have work, so you were very graciously blessed with having to hear his usual shenanigans through the walls of your room. He had an issue with keeping his emotions on the low when it came to games, which proved to be a nightmare. But thankfully, you were able to filter out his yelling with every response from Mingi.

"I heard you."

You furrow your brows, glancing to Beomgyu. "Huh? Heard what?"

He gets up, done with his breakfast, heading to the sink. "You were giggling all night. It was really weird," he mentions and your eyes widen, slowly chewing your food. Were you really that loud? How embarrassing. "Even weirder now that I know you were studying."

You throw your head back, groaning—of course he didn't buy your lie. "Beomgyu," you drawl.

"No, no, if you wish to keep your life private, keep it private." He was faking his hurt, but you also know there's some truth to it. Sharing things with each other, with no filter, has always been a staple to your relationship. And it's not like you were the type to be private anyway, so it worked out in the end.

"We were texting all night," you start, the dreamy vision of his face clouds your mind as your eyes sparkle at the thought, "Me and Mingi."

Beomgyu halts, his back faced to you— you don't read too much into it before he finally turns around. "Mingi as in... Music Comp Mingi?"

You flutter your lashes, nodding, barely biting down your smile. "He's a total A-plus heartthrob." you swoon.

Beomgyu lays his forearm on the countertop, standing across of you, tilting his head and a scrunch of his face like he’s willing to debate on that. "Yeah, but didn't Yeonjun happen like, two months ago?"

Yeonjun. The upperclassman you dated for six entire months, probably your longest relationship ever. Which is a little sad, at least for a sophomore in college. The added duration of your relationship made the breakup sting a lot more, as well as the fact that you wholeheartedly believed you'd end up marrying him at some point in the future.

Your smile droops, gaze fallen to the sad looking soggy cereal. "Hey, no, I mean, Y/N I'm just worried, but if you're—if you're over him, Mingi is good for you!" You slowly look up at Beomgyu, and you manage a smile on one end of your lips.

"You think so? Mingi's pretty nice, right?"

He huffs out a laugh through his nose again, he's been doing it a lot more often. "You stayed up all night talking to him, you're in love with him."

You break into a smile, eyes back on your spoon. "Shut up."

He points an accusatory finger, "Your ears just got red, oh my god, you are in love with him!"

You roll your eyes, quickly adjusting your hair to cover your ears. He shakes his head in awe, "You're actually hopeless."

"I'm sorry that he's literally the reincarnation of a prince charming. I can't help it."

"You say that about everyone." That was half true. You never said it about Sunwoo. "Anyways, you guys made plans, right?"

You fall quiet, eyes widening before quickly breaking eye contact with Beomgyu, clearing your throat. A few beats of silence and before you know it, Beomgyu grabs your phone, and is typing in your passcode.

You jump off your seat, "Beomgyu! Don't text him! I swear to god—" You have always made a mental note to change your passcode, but your memory fails you each time. And now you're bearing the consequences.

It quickly turns into a game of cat and mouse the more you go after him—each time, he's directly across from you as he focuses on typing as quickly as he could. Even when you calculate to run the opposite direction, Beomgyu is faster, quickly having the kitchen's island in between you both again.

"Mingi, the love of my life, I proposition you with a date at Gorae's—" he announces aloud, reading off the screen.

You rush to his side in his moment of weakness, reaching to grab your phone but Beomgyu's quick to react, raising his arm high enough for you to struggle to get your phone. God darn his height.

"Give me my phone you ass!"

"—and I want to marry you and have nine babies with you in a cottage far away from the world, my love!"

If he sent that, you'd jump off the balcony of your flat. No doubt. So, you attack him with your most effective weapon.

"And—shit. Oh my god, oh my god Y/N—" He wheezes, he's calm drowsiness dissipating, and he's quick to retreat, hands shielding themselves from your evil fingers. But you don't stop, a mischievous smile breaching your lips, because god is it fun to be the one to tease for once.

You aim for his sides, unprotected and perfect for your fingers to start tickling. His giggles are boisterous as he weakly attempts to stop your hands, but you don't let, "Punishment for being a little bitch."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry— oh my god, have mercy!" he manages to muster between his fit of laughter.

His contagious laugh bubbles one up from you until you hear a ping, and you realize that he might've actually sent that in! In horror, you grab your phone from Beomgyu's loose hold, who was still attempting to calm his laugh down, wiping under his waterline.

You check your messages, and it's in fact one from Mingi. "Beomgyu! Did you actually send him something?" you yell anxiously, eyes wide.

You don't give him time to respond, deciding to rip the bandaid, clicking on your chat. Hesitantly you read the messages after the 'goodnight' you've sent yesterday.

Your brows crease flatten as you read the two messages Beomgyu sent.

"I had fun talking. Maybe we should hang sometime?" you look up from your phone, "Who says that?"

He shrugs, wiping his hand on his sweats, "Probably, I don't know, sane people. What'd he say?"

You smile, looking back at the text Mingi had sent in response. "I'd like that. He'd like that. With a smiley face."

A conflicting smile is on his face as he says, "He'd like that with a smiley face?"

You roll your eyes, it's a terrible attempt at a joke, "A smiley face. Colon and a closing parenthesis."

He lets out an oh of realization as if he truly did not know, nodding. "Good luck, thank me when the wedding happens." he comments, walking into the living room you think— you don't really care. Too far gone as you re-read three simple words. And a colon paired with a closing parenthesis.

You really wish it'd work out this time.

—------------------------------

You don't exactly remember when you started to consider Beomgyu to be one of, if not, your closest friend.

The time he had stayed on a call with you throughout the entire night, on a school night, falling asleep after the spell of drowsiness won against both of your wills to continue talking? It magically seemed like you could endlessly talk, about anything, everything and nothing at the same time, with Beomgyu.

The time your eyes miracally found each other, in heaps of awkward situations? Like when you both ended up being third wheels to your pining friends, or when a party seemed too much for comfort.

Or when Beomgyu confided to you that he spent days learning makeup through lengthy youtube tutorials to help you out with applying it for prom?

Maybe the time you celebrated your graduation by choosing to invite over Beomgyu's family? No, you think it's probably the time you realized the only person you thought of when meaning to ask someone to move in with you—possibly the biggest next life step— was none other than your goofy, sort of odd, friend.

Or maybe it's now.

When you open the door, a heavish Beomgyu with his chest rising and falling, like he just ran a marathon, iris darting quickly going over your state before crashing you straight into his embrace, a hand gently on the back of your head. "I'm here."

You were holding it before he showed up, really holding it. But the warmth of Beomgyu's body against yours is enough for you to break. Your shoulders shake as you silently sob onto Beomgyu's, and his hold on you loosens, the previous panic slowing as he pat your back soothingly.

You knew Beomgyu, he's always been hyper aware of feelings, his own and others. This time, he set aside his own to make it easier for you to let out yours—you always notice when he does this.

His breathing is unstable against your hair, still attempting to catch it. "Why are you here? Don't you have work?" your words come out as a muffle, especially with the way your head is buried against his hoodie.

"You called, idiot."

"I called to ask if you could get milk on your way." You were in the mood for hot chocolate, your comfort drink, but to your absolute dismay, there was no milk. And you strongly preferred your hot chocolate with milk.

Beomgyu only hums in acknowledgement as if to say, yes, you're correct. You did only ask him to get milk.

Your emotions are one of a rollercoaster, once again sobbing like a child, before you pull your head away slowly, sniffling as you look up at him, your hands still wrapped around his waist. "You called in sick?"

His silence makes you feel uneasy, he could just say yes. Or no. Your brows raise. "Did you just ...run out?" you yell, almost pulling away from him completely, but he has senses for things like this —quickly pulling your head into his chest again. You groan.

"Now's not the time to lecture me." he mumbles into your hair.

After a little thinking, you decide to not fight him, giving in to his embrace. You could talk to him about his rash decision skills later, now, you want to be a little more selfish.

You're not sure where it went wrong with Mingi, and you don't really want to think about it. Your lips tremble against the soft fabric, more tears spilling down your cheeks, snot running.

"Can I blow my nose?" you ask. Beomgyu's a tinge hesitant before he just sighs. "Be gross all you want."

It felt like eternity standing there, in front of your door, Beomgyu's hand wrapped around you, and yours around his. He doesn't ask questions, he only stays silent unless you said something first. Usually saying incoherent things about Mingi, how you thought it'd end well, how he was everything to you, your moon, the sun that shone brightly. All through the occasional hiccups and sniffles of your crying session.

"I swear, Mingi—"

Suddenly Beomgyu exhales, his hands falling from your back to pull your head away from his chest. You guess it isn't a pretty look, with your bloodshot eyes, and gross snot messy on your face. But he doesn't hesitate to rub a thumb over your cheek.

"You know he doesn't deserve a minute of your time, Y/N. He doesn't deserve you. Like at all."

You furrow your brows. You don't believe a word. "You've barely met him, how would you know that I don't deserve him? And he realized that, which is why—"

He cuts your self wallow of deprecation off with a violent shake of his head. "Stupid. I've met you. I know you. That's enough information for me to make judgement."

"That's..." tears well up in your waterline again before you bury your head in his hoodie again, "That's so cheesy Beomgyu. Thank you."

You can feel his smile, somehow, it's like you're both connected by a string. "I'm serious, you're the best person I know. Flaws? Everyone has them, you do too, but you're ...still somehow the best person I know. If Mingi can't see that— if, impossibly, no one else can see that, then they don't deserve you. You know that?"

You nod meekly, soaking up his words. Millions of things could be said in response, something that could tell him how much highly you think of him too, but the dry of your throat prevents you from so.

"Tell me a joke." you say instead.

He ponders a bit before landing on one. "Can I be the parenthesis to your colon?"

You look up at him, silent, before you weakly hit his chest, laughing. When Mingi asked you to be his girlfriend, he said those exact words, and you had came home, raving all about it to Beomgyu, even though deep down, you found it a little ...too cheesy for your taste.

Beomgyu held the same opinion, except he was vocal about it. Making fun of the line for an entire weeks worth.

"Too soon."

He scratches the back of his head, a sorry smile on his face, "Yeah?"

You don't know if this breakup would be worse than the one you had with Yeonjun—only time could tell. All you knew was that no matter what it'd feel like—hell, like you were walking on pins and needles, like drowning in hot soup; Beomgyu would be by your side. That alone is enough, something that reminded you that this feeling would go away eventually.

ending a/n: you're done!! this might have to be considered the longest proclaimed drabble ever lol (2.6k words this is not a drabble) but anyways, like always, thoughts are appreciated.

#txt x reader #beomgyu fic #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu imgaines #beomgyu drabbles #beomgyu x reader #txt fic #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt drabbles #txt series

501 notes · View notes

obxone · 1 year

Text

Stranded

Edited-ish. ~925 words.

“This has got to be some kind of sick twisted joke,” you mutter, fingers pressed to your temple as you pace back and forth in the small, cramped space. The lighthouse is tall and slender. The rusted spiral staircase reaching to the top, but neither of you had dared to venture more than a few steps up when it began to creak and groan.

“Not a joke,” he says way too casually for your preference.

“How are you so calm right now?” You snap, spinning to glare at him.

He shrugs, “freaking out won’t change it.”

You exhale roughly and turn again, nails biting into your palms as you try hard not to snap at him. “This is all your fault,” you whisper, but he still hears it.

“My fault?!”

“Yes, Rafe, your fault!” You finally snap. The blinding anger you feel for his stupidity surfaces. “If we die, it is your fault!”

“Calm down,” he mutters, legs kicking out on the steps. His heels rest against the cracked and dirty concrete floor.

“There is a fucking hurricane raging outside and we are in an abandoned centuries-old lighthouse!” You glare at him. “The fucking boat was pulled out to sea because you did not tie it properly! How the fuck do you not know how to tie off a boat?! Your daddy owns a yacht for crying out loud!”

“They’ll come looking for us by morning, calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” You turn away and slam your palm against the side of the lighthouse. The smack did not dent the lighthouse and only made your hand sting. Your aggression is still pent up in you.

It had been raining for almost an hour, and the wind had slowly picked up until the hurricane reached the shoreline. “If we don’t die in this storm, I will kill you myself.”

Rafe chuckles, and it almost makes you cross the room and squeeze his neck until he turns blue in the face.

“How could I be so stupid?” You mutter to yourself as you resume pacing. One hand on your hip and the other pressed to your forehead. Your eyes squeeze shut. “How could I be so reckless?”

Rafe frowned, watching you pace again.

“I’m supposed to be responsible, I’m supposed to take care of my brother, not be galivanting around with the island’s biggest prick.”

“Topper will be fine,” he mutters. “He does not need his sister looking after him, he’s a big boy.”

“He is 16 and in love with your little sister who does not love him one single bit. He will not be fine, I know him!” You glare at blue-eyed Cameron. “And he’s your friend, although I have no idea why, and you let him get involved with your sister knowing she’d break his heart.”

“Again, he’s a big boy. He made his own decision.”

“You Camerons only care about yourselves. Yet again,” you snap, gesturing widely around the lighthouse. “Dragging the Thornton siblings down with you.”

“I’m not dragging you down,” he says, his gaze hardening, jaw set.

“Then what are you doing?”

He shrugs.

“Exactly.”

You start to pace again, gaze focusing on a long crack running almost completely across the floor. Your mind races with the thoughts of what your parents will think once they realize you are not coming home during a hurricane and how dumb you were to trust Rafe again. He had successfully manipulated you once more. Part of you is so angry at him right now, but the other part cannot help but to ache at being near him again and having his attention all to yourself. You are addicted, and you hate it.

Howling winds echo around the lighthouse. You shiver, your arms circling around you tightly. You were both stuck here until someone came for you.

“Are you cold?” He asked after a moment of silence. You look at him, and he is already staring at you.

“I’m in a bikini with a linen coverup, so yes, I’m cold.”

He exhales and stands pulling his shirt off. “Here.”

“No, thank you.”

“Stop being childish. Take it,” he moves forward while holding it out. You glare at him, but the shakes it while still holding it out. “You used to wear my clothes, remember?”

“I remember,” you mutter, snatching it away from him. You pull it on and lift your hair out from the collar. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Baby.”

“Rafe.”

He smirks, before taking a step back with his hands up in innocence.

“I should have known better than to give you a chance to talk it out,” you whisper, and he sighs before reaching his hand out and grasping your upper arm. “What are you-?”

“Just relax,” he mutters, guiding you into his body. His chest is warm against you as he folds his arms around you. “I know how much you hate storms.”

“This isn’t just a storm, it’s a freaking hurricane,” you mutter with disdain.

He chuckles, tightening his arms around you. “Ward probably already sent out a search team.”

You close your eyes, burying your face in the curve of his neck. “I hope so.”

"I'm sorry, Baby."

Surprise floods you at his apologetic words, and you cannot help but tip your head back and stare at him. He offers a small smile.

"I should have found another way to get you alone."

"Maybe just ask next time," you tease a bit.

He laughs. "You would've said no."

"I would have said no," you agree.

#outer bank #obx rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #obx fic

514 notes · View notes

lovelybarnes · 1 year

Text

Sadistic- B. Barnes

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader, other characters make an appearance but it’s mainly natasha romanoff Warnings: mean bucky kind of, mutual pining, teasing, reader being flustered, super projection of my obsession with peanuts right now About: request! Bucky and reader didn’t get along and then bucky discovers she has a sensitive neck and basically uses it against her.

Bucky notices you before he sees you.

You’re hidden behind the kitchen island with your legs crossed beneath you and your fingertips grazing the tiles, the few stray strands of hair peeking past the granite of the counter giving you away.

He contemplates turning back nearly immediately, your presence pushing him out of a room as much as it is pulling him in, but it’s sheer greed that makes him lean on his feet, standing at a subtle angle to get even a brief look at you.

Your eyes are glassy and unfocused when he meets them, puckering aimlessly with the arrival of a crease between your brows. He shifts awkwardly in the entrance of the common room, watching you cautiously.

You don’t seem to notice his attention at all, eerily still and uncharacteristically distracted. Bucky should clear his throat, ask if you’re okay, but he hasn’t said something so kind to you in a while, and he’s unwilling to do so now.

What he should do, grounded in stupid values and teenage pride, is set his shoulders, stop squinting to see the outline of your lashes, and push past you to get to the fridge. You’re the one on the ground. He’s an innocent, thirsty bystander who has been looking forward to the cucumber water in the fridge all day.

He pauses, moves his limbs a little to see if you notice. If you do, maybe you’ll push yourself away from smack-dab middle, or maybe your eyes will widen in that sweet, apologetic way they do, where your lashes pinch at the corners in guilt, voice starting in an excuse he’ll scowl at, forcing yours to twist down wrongly at his reaction.

He can admit he’s selfish when you don’t waver and he stays put. Crassly, he leans against the wall and lets his pupils drag down your profile. He flushes immediately with heat and wishes you would rise to your feet and scold him for staring. He isn’t sure what sick part of him would like that most.

But you stay like that for a while, and when you do notice him, it’s an entirely underwhelming consequence. Your shoulders jump only barely and you offer him a vacant blink.

“Hey, Bucky.”

Your voice is quieter than usual but just as sordidly kind.

He grunts in response, setting his attention away from you and pretending like it was never there to start. You shift away when he steps in front of you, narrowly missing your nail. You frown down at your hands, glancing up at Bucky’s back.

He hears you stand, the soft sound your fingers make against the cupboard and the inhale you take. You twist your mouth and squeeze your fingers, eyes on him from your distance. He doesn’t turn to you.

“What’re you looking for?” you ask after a few seconds.

“Water.”

“Water,” you repeat. “The cucumber one? I’m so sorry, I just grabbed the last bit.”

He makes a low noise, shutting the refrigerator. “It’s fine.”

“No, no,” you argue, turning around to pull a mug from behind the fruit bowl. It’s chipped at the rim, with a pale yellow handle and thin vertical indents around its body. A bumpy orange mushroom is embossed over green blades of grass. You hook your middle and index fingers through the handle and hold it out to him expectantly. “You can have it.”

Bucky shifts on his feet, hands down at his sides. He wants to start kindly. “No.”

You blink at him. “Are… are you sure? I don’t think you’ve had very much. I haven’t drank from it at all, I promise. I just poured it before I…”

Bucky thinks he should ask. “‘M sure.”

You nod slowly, setting the mug down. There’s something hesitant and wanting over your features, a small crease back between your brows. “Okay then.” You offer him a smile, a little awkward but nonetheless pretty. He needs to go. “I can bring you some more? I usually buy it from this little vendor on Saturday, but I can make an early stop.”

“That’s okay.”

You chew on your cheek. “Maybe you want to go with me?”

He freezes. “What?”

You take in a big gulp of air, shoulders pushed back gently. “I feel like…” You chew your lip, mulling. Your eyes twinkle sadly. “We don’t really spend too much time together. And I’d like to.”

Bucky can feel heat creep awfully up his neck, a stabbing warmth in his chest. He needs to reject you right now.

You seem to read his mind, stepping backward and bumping into the counter. “You don’t have to—” You stumble over your feet in your efforts to give him space.

His hands shoot out to wrap around your forearms, pulling you upright. Your eyes are rounded, mouth still caught in an assurance, warm fingers twisted below his wrists to hook loosely on the hill of his pisiform.

He swallows, stepping back like your touch burned him. “No thanks.”

You frown, not wanting to push but feeling like you need to. You swallow the step he’d put between you. “Please? I promise I’ll make it fun. There are a lot of things there, maybe you could find Steve’s birthday gift.”

Bucky inhales shortly. “I got it already.”

He begins to sidestep you, a scorching buzzing he never realized was prickling beneath his skin finally beginning to ease. You grasp his arm and it peaks so high, he stops breathing for a second. The twinkle has come back, more melancholy than he remembered. Your lips pucker, eyebrows edging down. “Do you not like me?”

Bucky pauses, overwhelmed by the heat of your fingers. “What?”

Your teeth dig into your lip, thumb beginning to rap against the flat edge of his palm. He blinks. “You don’t seem to like me very much. Which is fine—I just… did I do something wrong?” Your voice closes on a mournful crest, features already sorry as your fingers continue their frantic dance on his skin. “I didn’t mean to.”

“No. Why would you think that?”

You frown. “You never talk to me unless you have to, you leave the room the moment I come in.”

“That’s not true.”

You cock your head at him, a little exasperated. “Bucky.”

“Fine.” He sighs, meeting eyes with your concern again. A beat passes. “Let’s go,” he says.

Your face lights up, although hesitant. “Really? Honest, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Really. Maybe I’ll get something else for Steve.”

You bounce gently on the balls of your feet, fingers looping tightly around his wrist. “Thank you. We’ll have fun, I promise.”

“Sure,” he says, rubbing the slope of his nose when you finally step back with a pretty smile. His wrist burns delightfully; he has to hold himself back from prodding at it with his fingers.

You stare at him for another second, eyes crinkling at their edges. “I’ll be right back. We’ll leave in ten minutes, is that okay?”

“Sure,” he repeats, watching you bound toward the elevator. Your lips are pinched tightly when you turn around, the bubbled highs of your cheeks betraying what you try to smother.

When the elevator doors shut, he lets his eyes fall closed, dropping his head onto one hand. His pointer finger brushes against the skin you’d held, eliciting a lovely glittering where you’d rubbed the pads of your fingers.

His elbow bumps into something cold and fragile, which he looks down to see is your mug, quietly inched closer to him. Hesitantly, he loops a finger around the handle, lifting the smooth edge up to his mouth. You were right, the water is fresh and sweet.

He falls into the couch disappointedly to wait for you, letting his head tilt back and attention rest on the ceiling. His index strokes the handle with wobbly, hesitant lines, running over the movements of your own fingers in the bumps and ridges of the mug. Your ownership is painfully present, predictably foreign on Bucky’s tongue, yet not at all wrong where he has felt it most.

It’s not what Bucky expected.

He puts it down on the table, hoping the delicate circular teetering grounds him. It doesn’t.

You’re frantic when you push the door to your room open, entirely crammed with worries.

Your hair has refused to cooperate all morning, the shirt you’d pulled on has a tiny hole you hope Bucky didn’t notice, and your pants are a size too big, the stretchy bottom part of the left leg pulled up to the thick of your calf.

You try to remember whether or not you washed your nice jeans the day before, fingers deftly pushing away hangers and leaving only an ugly screeching sound that you can’t bother to notice.

You don’t think Bucky likes you. In the decent amount of time you’d known him—a fraction of it with a word count—you had, at the very least, been reassured that he didn’t hate you. Bucky doesn’t seem to spend too much time hating in the icky, false sense of the word, not when he has so many possible receptors with real and raw reasoning.

You hold a shirt up to the light like it’ll help determine Bucky’s thoughts about it. Would he have any?

You shove the shirt back inside your closet and pull another off the hanger, stretching out the collar irresponsibly. Bucky seems to wear a lot of red. Is it because he likes it or has someone commented on how much it brings out his eyes?

You don’t think Bucky likes you. You’re determined to get him to.

He was wearing something red today. You pull on a pretty vermillion blouse with wide sleeves and a high neckline and try not to feel silly. Your foot taps nervously against the floor as you try to decide on earrings, taking a glance along the rows you have before you crouch down to pull on your shoes, browsing the image you’d caught in your mind.

When you straighten, it feels as if entirely too much time has passed by, your head leady, vision thinned briefly. You decide on the Snoopy earrings you’d bought last week. Tiny, crescent-eyed Woodstock goes on your left ear and tiny, lovesick Snoopy goes on your right. He must know them, right?

You don’t look in the mirror before you leave, too confident that your reflection would send you tumbling back into your closet, slipping your choice off your earlobes. Your forefinger hooks on the bottom of your shirt, tugging down as you watch yourself in the closed doors of the elevator.

Slowly, you inhale. Exhale. Realize you’d closed your eyes and the doors are now open.

The pads of your fingers meet Snoopy’s small clay-lump-legs and you remember that you’re being ridiculous.

Calmer now, you prance over to Bucky, blinking at his shut eyes, body leant against the couch.

“Bucky?” you call. You bend at the waist, searching for a sign of life until your nose is very, very close to his. “Are you okay?” you whisper, unsure why.

Bucky startles anyway, meeting your fresher face. He has thoughts on the shirt.

He clears his throat. “Fine.”

You pull back, crossing your arms. “Did I make you wait long?” you stress, watching him get to his feet.

“No.”

You want to make a joke. You know what Sam would do—poke at his age, ask if the century was finally catching up. You contemplate it too long.

Bucky eyes the bag hanging from the crook of your elbow. You tilt it inconspicuously, flashing stupid buttons and silly pins. Bucky clears his throat. “Should we go?”

“Yes,” you say hurriedly, following after him as he heads to the elevator. It’s silent inside and all the way to the car, where you exchange a stilted smile for a glance when you plug in your phone with the address.

Your thigh shakes the entire ride, slowing momentarily for awkward, brief conversations when the silence gets too unbearable. You think about comfortable silence and how this is not it, icky regret crawling up your throat. You feel sticky and stupid.

“I like your earrings,” Bucky says unprompted. You’re too surprised to do much else than stare, thanking him after too long.

“You like Snoopy?”

He nods. You contemplate more questions, but he seems satisfied with his contribution.

You stare down at your bag the rest of the time, a finger tracing a big, glittery button from a goose race you never went to.

Bucky’s presence is too professional at the stands. He handles himself overly bodyguard-like around you, watching you pick things up with care and interact with vendors from just next to the tents. Rarely does he touch something himself.

You fiddle with a small notebook, catching his eye. You smile when he reads your mind, stepping over to your side to see over your shoulder. Half of his body is close enough to pull sparks from your opposite side. You try your best to concentrate.

“Steve,” you explain, twisting the little sketchbook around. He hums, the noise accompanied by a warm puff of air against the thin skin of your neck. You still completely, goosebumps rising immediately. You pray he doesn’t notice.

Of course Bucky does. He watches your chest still and can’t help the rise of the left edge of his lip. Experimentally, he blows a soft line along your neck.

You flinch, fingers going slack. Bucky reaches for the book before it can thump on the table, his eyes crinkled. You’re too distracted to notice the amusement on his face.

He hums. “That’s a good choice for Stevie.”

“Y-yeah.” You clear your throat, taking a step back but bumping into him. Your skin is delightfully warm even through his jacket, sharp tingles only tendered by your sweet chagrin.

Graciously, he steps aside, meeting your eyes and raising the book between his index and middle fingers. The buttons of the bag hanging off his wrist sparkle in the sunlight. He smiles, suddenly a lot less hesitant than this morning. “Found my present.”

You nod, leaving him to pay as you raise your hand to your collarbone, the pads of your fingers brushing over the goosebumps above the collar of your shirt.

You shiver again and wonder.

You’re anxious for more.

Bucky’s interactions with you are usually dismally brief. He says hi when you prompt him, returns tight smiles, and indulges your questions using as few words as possible. Last time, it was ten. The time before, five. Your peak is sixteen.

On the next movie night, you come downstairs half an hour before and claim a doughy two-person couch, sprawling a silky blanket over one side. You pop two bags of popcorn and stress that you made them too early, overcompensating with a variety of candy. It’s spread out with great care, the cushions adjusted, the furniture itself repositioned.

You sit on your side and pretend you’ve only just come when Sam heads into the living room, raising an eyebrow at you.

“What’s all this?” he asks, stealing a handful of popcorn.

“Nothing,” you say, shifting as he pokes around your stash. Footsteps. “Go over there,”

“What?”

“Bucky won’t come over here if you’re standing there.”

Sam cocks his head. “Ohh, Bucky huh?”

“Go!” you urge, heat up to your ears when he satiates you, hands up in surrender as he walks away.

More Avengers filter in, at the very end Bucky. Your friends have decided to appease you today, occupying every space except the one by your side. Your leg bounces with anticipation.

Bucky looks at you, noticing everything you’ve done, and blinks away when you smile at him. Your shoulders sag, lips pursed achingly.

“You can sit here. If you want,” you say. “I got you some candy. I’ve seen you eating it before, and I thought you… you might like it.”

It’s a slim moment—but a moment nonetheless—before he answers. “Okay. Thank you. I’m gonna get a drink before the movie.”

“I’ll go with you,” you pipe up, a few of the others joining you to pour sodas and chips into bowls.

You’re reaching for a glass when you feel him behind you, stretching for another.

You shiver when you feel air against the nape of your neck, knee knocking loudly into the counter.

He’s away from you before you can process it was him, innocuously pulling open a drawer.

Everyone meets your eye questioningly. “You okay?” Natasha asks.

You nod, pupils flickering to Bucky, who would seem entirely innocent if his irises weren’t so glittered with mirth.

You frown at him, confused when he’s completely unchanged, simply walking beside you back to his seat.

You split your attention between the movie and Bucky’s face for the first hour, realizing you should never have let it stray when he reaches for his glass of water and brushes a very warm finger right below your jaw.

You stare at him perplexedly, his features outlined by the flickering light of the television.

“Butter,” he lies, shrugging. Then, he turns back to the movie and ignores you for the rest of the night. You can’t remember the name of the movie by the next day.

The round tip of your little finger aches with a small papercut.

The paperwork piled up at the edge of your desk mocks your wound, edged paper corners peeking out as if a warning.

You watch wine bubble, a fat drop beginning to edge closer to the crevice between nail and skin. Holding back an urge to shove your finger into your mouth, you clasp a tissue with your other hand, wrapping it tightly around your wounded finger.

You blow a gentle raspberry and lean back in your seat; a silent resignation: the paperwork wins.

Natasha meets your eye from the couch across the hall, appearing to read your mind in the sharp way she can do. She frowns, an exaggerated pull to her lips, falsely thinned eyes glaring. She crosses her arms and puffs her chest out, shaking her head in a distinct disappointment.

You stifle a laugh and present your injury to her.

Her lips part in overt understanding, nodding slowly. Poor baby, she mouths.

Poor baby, you agree, cradling your hand.

She laughs, standing up to walk toward you. When she gets to you, she picks up a pen off your desk, squinting at the words peeking out beneath the covers.

“This is from two months ago,” she says unhelpfully, tapping it with your pen.

“That’s not even the oldest one there,” you deplore, letting your head drop on your desk with a mournful sigh.

“Why do you insist on falling behind?” she tuts.

“I’m hurt!” you insist, pushing your finger toward her. She cocks her head at you but cradles your hand. “Every time I try, it’s like it fights back!”

“If you need help…” Natasha mutters something in Russian and brushes her lips against your pinky, making you smile.

You simper. “Did you just heal me?”

“No. I cursed you for being lazy.”

You frown, taking back your hand to hold it against your chest. “I’m good,” you say, responding to her earlier offer. You heave a big sigh. “Thank you, though. Evil woman.”

She smiles at you, shaking her head when she sees your opposite fingers wrapping around your injured one. “You like to suffer.”

“How dare you,” you mumble, urging another bloody bead to form.

“Deviant,” she claims, walking away.

You don’t look up to blow a raspberry at her, dragging your nail up your skin until a thicker drop forms.

It’s a fairly challenging game you have going on, making your bead grow while trying to keep it plump and steady on the tip of your little finger.

If you breathe a little too hard, it wobbles, and you clamp your lips closed, holding your breath and freezing entirely for a few seconds until it’s still again.

It’s a concentration game. And Bucky takes advantage of it.

You press the indent between your bones gently, immersed enough to only recognize his presence when he begins to speak.

“Don’t do that,” he condemns, suddenly right behind you. He must be bent over, lips a millimeter away from the curve of your neck for you to feel every intricate vibration of each word he says. You flinch immediately, an already hot cheekbone bumping against his chin.

When you catch sight of him, he’s already straightened, perfectly calm.

“What?” you croak, warm fingers against the warmer skin below your earlobe.

“You cut yourself,” he says.

“Uh huh.”

“Why are you making it worse?”

“I… I’m not.”

His face stains only lightly in dissent, dissolving like a single droplet of color in an ocean of clear.

He doesn’t respond audibly, only shrugging and walking away. You only realize he’d pressed a clean, colorful band-aid on your desk after he’s out of the office.

There’s a streak of cherry red along your finger when you finally look down, only observing its head create a fat scarlet stain on your sleeve. You curse Bucky and the goosebumps still high on your skin.

You suspect Bucky to be somewhat of a sadist.

He doesn’t seem to mind the effect he’s carved into you, nearly reveling in it as if your embarrassment were some sort of thrill. You find yourself shivering prematurely the moment he steps foot in a room, the sight of him accompanied by the imminent line of ice along sensitive skin.

He’ll embarrass you wherever. Make you choke on your tea right before a meeting, burn yourself on a fresh tray of cookies, trip over shoes, and crash into walls. And he’ll watch you, lousily stifling a smile before tending to whatever he’d caused as if he wasn’t at fault for it.

Guiltily, you yearn for the roles to reverse. Or for yours to lessen.

Slumped on the couch in the living room with a bowl of oily popcorn, you contemplate your situation with Snoopy.

All you had wanted was a sign further than acknowledgement. Something realer than his bitter, thin smile, maybe one of the laughs you’d been so eager to hear in real life. At the most, a purposeful touch; still kind, still real, probably brief. But what you’ve gotten surpasses what you’d initially desired in delightfully awful ways.

When you think about it, your situation doesn’t seem too fat with issue. You can’t recall a substantial conversation with Bucky, but you can remember with perfect clarity how warm his lips are from a millimeter away. It brings up the contemplation on whether or not it’s an actual issue to begin with.

You’re tempted to ignore it. You’re very, very tempted to let him continue his cruel attentions and let yourself become further putty in his presence.

What would you even do? You can’t see yourself pulling him forward by the collar—to make a point, of course, not to brush your fingers against his own neck to see him shudder—to look him in the eyes while telling him that you know what he’s doing. Especially when you don’t. Primarily when you aren’t sure what the point of the conversation would be—to tell him to stop? You aren’t sure you want him to.

It’s easier to push it aside and let him torture you. Maybe you’ll become impervious to Bucky Barnes’ bullying.

You push yourself straighter and let your head fall back, listening to Charlie Brown’s mournful voiceover.

“What if everyone was like you? What if we all ran away from our problems? Huh? What then? What if everyone in the whole world suddenly decided to run away from his problems?”

Your eyes pop open with a startled frown, watching his cartoon throw his little arms up and sigh.

Linus appears, but you don’t listen to his words, letting the fleshy part of your palm support your chin. The pads of your fingers float up to the space behind your ears, and you feel yourself flush immediately with recognition. Bucky is a sadist, sure. But you’re a masochist.

With a dejected huff, you let your hands drop to the popcorn.

It’s not even a full episode past when something shifts. You frown, covertly examining your surroundings with edged brows.

Two hands form deep clefts in cushions on either side of you, body heat sticky against the skin it can touch.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asks quietly, lips so close to your ear you can feel the echo of their movements. His breath prickles your neck.

“Um…” You struggle to respond, your tongue suddenly too dry. In the background, Lucy shouts something. It sends the dumbest feeling into your chest. Charlie Brown is right.

You gather up all the courage inside of you, rolling it up into the tightest and biggest little ball you can, and snap your neck to the side, catching his gaze before he can move in surprise.

You’re closer than you thought you’d be. You can see all the pretty little details of his face, the way his pupils eat the lovely blue of his irises and how high his Adam's apple bobs.

“What’s wrong?” you echo gently, sweetly mocking.

He stammers, charcoal lashes fluttering.

You hum, examining his face one last time before hopping off the couch to go to the kitchen, leaving him slumped over the couch, dazed.

613 notes · View notes

multifandumbmeg · 2 months

Text

Subtle JJ things I noticed that keep me up at night:

1. The way they changed the styling of his clothes from season 1 to season 2. Season one he's already pretty ripped but he mostly wears these loose-fitting tshirts and cutoffs that make him look cute, lanky, and unthreatening. Season 2 he mostly wears tight-fitting tshirts that make him look CONSIDERABLY beefier and generally is seen wearing more layers- it's technically Fall but he covers up more than other characters do and it has the effect of him seeming more closed off and isolated than the others, which he is. Season three his style is somewhere in between, not super tight but not lanky and loose either, like he's found a better balance.

2. His drinking. Season 1 he's partying a lot with beer and frankly, high most of the time. Season 2 he starts carrying around the flask- presumably liquor, not beer- and drinking non-socially. Before school. At John B's "funeral". That night they're stranded with Kie and Pope on the way to Charleston. The others aren't drinking at all, nor does he offer them some, then he seemingly (to Kie) falls asleep with the open flask in hand... Like he's been drinking himself to sleep, and this has probably become a habit. This is clearly because he's depressed, and though I think John B's "death" is the catalyst, it's clearly not the only reason as it continues through season 2, for example the aforementioned Charleston trip. I think John B's death, going no-contact with his dad, living alone at the chateau, Pope and Kie's relationship, have all led him to feel extremely isolated and he's clearly coping with substances even worse than before. Not to mention he's free of his dad for the first time, completely after he leaves OBX, which means for the first time in his life he's probably processing his trauma, which is what tends to happen once you find yourself no longer in a continually traumatizing situation. That would also account for his moodiness and increasing dependence on substances. I think it's also interesting we see him smoking weed less, but drinking more heavily. I think they did this to show a marked change in his already concerning substance use from season 1 from "bad coping mechanism, gets him through the day in relatively good spirits" to genuinely concerning and potentially volatile, over-using a substance his biological was known to be addicted to. Note this abruptly ends at the end of season 2 with being stranded on the island with all the Pogues. There are zero substances on the island, but it's clear it's the happiest he's ever been. A lot goes down after they get off the island but he seems to minimally fall back into old patterns in season 3. Apart from hanging out and partying a socially acceptable amount with his friends, the only time I remember him using is when he's drinking beers alone at his house- when he gets home and everyone's reuniting with their families and when he's fighting with Kiara because of their moment. When he feels alone and scared. I'm curious to see his development in season 4.

3. His lack of fear/loss of fear in death. Bro, nobody talks about how differently he reacts to danger between seasons 1 and 2. All throughout season 1, JJ is an anxious wreck and his response to being threatened is always submission, fear, and an instinct to run. When there's guns on him he gets the fuck down. He puts his hands up. He looks visibly terrified. Multiple times you can see him VISIBLY shaking. When the thugs are attacking Miss Lana, he's trembling with his eyes closed and trying not to make a sound. He begs John B to leave while it's happening and after when he sees her reaction. Even when Barry tries to rob them, furious though he is, he follows Barry's demands and doesn't fight back until John B starts it and makes an opportunity. As Kiara so aptly puts it, "he has the survival instincts of a cockroach." He does! But everything changes when he tries to grab the money and run from his dad. Again, he doesn't want a fight. But he gets one, and he's finally tired of it. He's been beat up and threatened and stolen from one time too many, and the threat of death is no longer a more powerful motivator than his wants. So he attacks his dad back and puts him in his place. He once again puts his hands up when Barry and Rafe come for him at the Phantom, but he doesn't look as scared. John B's "death" may be the final nail in the coffin, because starting season 2? He's not scared anymore when he should be. Despite the fact that he appears to be having panic attacks and worse anxiety than ever, every gun that's pointed at him or fight that breaks out he just rolls with. One of the only times I can see his survival instincts crop up in season 2 is when Kiara yells "murderer" at Ward seconds after he straight up killed someone with a gun, which is a normal human reaction and may have had more to do with protecting his friends. He just seems numb to most of the danger. Then again, season 3, he almost seems to find a balance. He's still doing some reckless things, and no longer cowering in the face of enemies, but he also knows who the dangerous people are, and when to wheel and deal or turn away and come fight another day.

Anyway, I'm very curious to see how he evolves in season 4, now that he's establishing his own life, financially secure, on good terms with all his friends and (hopefully) in a committed relationship. Let me know if I missed any other interesting character changes patterns for JJ or any other characters from the show! I would love to read/hear what you noticed and your own in-depth character analysis. JJ's my favorite character and a super rich text, so I tend to hyperfocus on him. Also if you want to request me to make one of these on one of the other characters let me know! I would love to zero in on them and see what I missed on my next watch-through.

#obx #outer banks #jj maybank #analysis #JJ Maybank character analysis #character analysis #Me when I read the text too deeply #Cannot consume media normally #Must psychoanalyze

113 notes · View notes

portgasmalia · 1 year

Text

daddy's favourite, rafe cameron pairing: rafe cameron & female reader summary: the kook princess, the good girl everybody thinks you are but rafe sees a different side. warnings: smut ahead! minor's don't read, please.

escaping the difficult situations at home was easy when the library was just around the corner. a good fantasy book always gave you comfort and enough time to blend out the constant arguments at home. being the kook princess seemed so easy from the outside, but keeping up the image was the opposite.

a book about the disparate historical events connected to the island in your hands, a certain page opened. the gold, you heard the pogues talk about, mentioned in multiple sentences. an amount that would buy you freedom from the tight restraints of being the golden child.

yet, your lids fell close for merely a second. teeth chewing harshly on the soft skin of your bottom lip, almost tearing it apart underneath the intensity of the bites. head fell back against the wooden shelves, the sound of the collision not bothering you at all.

no one ever made it to the section in the far left corner. dusty books waited to be read again after years, at least pulled out of the spiderwebs and tight space in the shelf. one of your hands left the leather book, reaching down.

delicate fingers brushed over the short strands on rafe's head, the buzzcut being a completely new experience for you. still, it fit the kind of reputation he had around figure eight. your skirt bunched up around the waist, one large hand placed underneath your right thigh to hold up the leg while two fleshy fingers of his left hand were deeply inside of your pussy.

pumping them in and out, rafe flattened his tongue against your bundle of nerves. there was no need to deny that the cameron lad knew exactly how to satisfy your needs. he gathered tons of experience around figure eight, it was no secret how much he loved women and sex. maybe, in combination with a little coke for his nostrils and an expensive whiskey for his throat.

tonight, on the other hand, he almost seemed sober. the dark corner in the library, the place that the citizens of figure eight ignored, it became your little hiding spot. as the daughter of a very influential man, almost like rafe with his father, the gazes anchored on what you were doing and with whom. rafe’s image around the north side and even the south side labeled him as a bad company.

“stop thinking. focus on me, babygirl.” he whispered, his warm breath fanning over your in wetness covered clit. a whimper coaxed out of the dry throat, you closed the book and focused on him as requested. the leg in his tight grip, placed over his shoulder, you allowed rafe to occupy his right hand differently. and he accepted the invitation without overthinking.

slowly, he leaned back to examine the image in front of him. rough fingertips grazed over your clit, while his fingers slowed down. „rafe, don’t stop, please.“ you begged, when the movement of his digits halted. just the fingertips left inside of your pussy, he tilted his head back to look at your flushed face. a tint of red spread across your cheeks, your bottom lip cracked open slightly from the assault of your teeth.

and he could not deny, that the scenario he was able to witness, was the most beautiful and addicting one he has ever seen. a sight for sore eyes, an image that stayed burned in the back of his mind.

„what do you want, babygirl?“ he arched a brow, waiting for the response. his usually attentive gaze glanced away from your face, taking in how the wetness pooled between your legs, and slowly flooded down his long pointer finger. „just do something, please.“ you whined, a hand still on his head and attempting to push him forcefully back between your thighs.

you’ve never been aggressive, yet, there was a small part of you that always wanted what she desired. an orgasm in the library was one of those particular things. „you’re so fucking pretty when you beg.“ his chuckles were light-hearted, a rather warm sound to the usual, mean comments he threw around himself as protection. words, to hurt the pogues, and any other person who glanced at you for too long. yet, this wasn't close to a relationship. it was fun, but rafe started to get possessive.

sliding his two fingers inside of your pussy again, he immediately felt how your walls stretched around the fleshy, long digits. a tightness and warmth, rafe yearned to feel with his dick. but you never agreed to more than the average foreplay. fingers and tongue on you, hand and mouth on him. the easy ways to get relief, without consequences. you also denied him the official title of boyfriend and girlfriend. the insanity that ran in the male part of his family, made it difficult to find enough to trust to not be treated like a slut after the good days were over.

with every stroke of his fingers, you found yourself slipping further into the pleasure-filled haze. the library, and the slim chance of getting caught by the staff, or residents of the island, faded out of your mind. your bottom lip repeatedly assaulted by your teeth, attempting to stifle the needy whimpers and loud moans that wanted to echo through the library.

rafe's hooded gaze stayed focused on you while pushing his fingers in deeply and curling them to hit the spot. it was a miracle how the kook always made you squirm and cum, and reach the spot that increased the bursts of pleasure. "shit." the word slipped past the attempts of keeping quiet, a simple curse word that rang in rafe's ears and evolved into a smug smirk on his lips.

his free hand found his place on the slick nub between your lips. the rough pad of his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves, he slowly started to move in circles. a circle for each time he plunged his fingers deep inside of you. "come on, baby girl. let me watch you cum undone for me."

he didn't need to say another word. the sweet name he used to lure you into release and pull you further under his spell, was enough to burst the last restraints. head thrown back against the shelf, strands scattered across the face and hiding parts, your hand on his neck and digging your nails into the soft skin. moans swallowed, quiet whines still slipped through the swollen lips.

rafe did not stop the movements of his fingers until the orgasm washed over you completely. the desire to witness each second of the pleasure you bathed in, was almost enough to make a mess in his pants. when a loud breath escaped your mouth, he withdraw himself from your pussy, placing his arousal-covered fingers in his mouth to lick them clean. a satisfied growl coaxed out of his dry throat, the sweet taste always his favorite dessert.

carefully, you brushed the hem of your skirt down again, hiding the mess that flooded down the insides of your thighs. "so," rafe breathed out, the hands deeply in the pockets of his cargo pants, and a wide smirk plastered across the face. he took a step closer again, chest pressed against yours, a hand placed on the shelf above your head. "when will you let me fuck you? i think i passed the qualifications weeks ago."

"patience is the key, rafe." you giggled, manicured nails placed on the fabric of his polo shirts, and pushing him away with slight force. "but thank you again for taking the stress away."

the last words of gratitude he heard as you walked away. a glance over the shoulders, taking in the straddled expression on rafe's face and the bulge in his trousers. the first time, you ever walked off without giving him something back for his service. but you knew, he would come to get it, to get his revenge for leaving him exposed and needy in the library. a chase, you were excited for.

412 notes · View notes

notyour-valentine · 2 years

Text

Dragon's Blood ~ Aemond Targaryen x Rhaenyras!daughter (Fluff/Smut)

[Navigation] [Moonboard Masterlist] [House of the Dragon Masterlist]

All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Summary: There is a small rocky island in the Narrow Sea easily reached on dragonback, and it has become a home of many secrets for Aemond Targayen and Rhaenyra Targaryen's only daughter (Fluff/Smut)

Note: Ahead of nexts episode, and finally getting the man, the myth, the menace that is grown!Aemond, I wanted to write something nice about him before everything burns to the ground. Loosely connected to this moonboard of mine.

Warning: sword fighting, mention of blood and injuries, smut, mention of war and death. Expect canon conforming tone and language. (18/21+)

Wordcount: 4667 words

Part I ~ Part II ~ Part III ~ Part IV

Part I

The sun warmed her face and the gentle winds made the strands of her hair fly like banners in the wind.

The salt and water from her earlier swim had made it coarse and curly, a tangled mess no hairnet could hope to tame.

Even though it had only just dried, she felt her bare feet carry her to the waves once more.

The sea called to her, the same way the sky did.

Both had been screaming her name from the moment she was born- half dragon, half sea creature.

She closed her eyes as the incoming waves washed over her feet, splashing against her ankles. It was as sweet a caress as the wind and sun were.

This was her place, her own little kingdom, and even if it was just a bleak, rocky forgotten island, to her it was as beautiful and as dear as the entire Valyrian Freehold at the height of it’s glory.

And it was hers, hers alone - or at least close enough.

She was not meant for peace, hardly any of them were, but right here, with nothing but the waves and the wind, she could feel the temptation to never leave.

Her eyes snapped open a split second before a hand grabbed her belt and tugged her back.

Her body crashed into an immovable force, her head hitting his shoulder, but before she could react, she felt the icy bite of a blade under her chin, forcing her head upward.

Her hands dug into his arms, feeling the weather-worn leather not unsimilar to her own, which she had taken off earlier with her boots, leaving her in only her shirt and riding trousers.

She crawed at his arm with all her might, but it only earned her a soft chuckle.

"Too easy, soldier.", came the immediate but no less amused scolding, his lips brushing against her ear, tightening his grip on her stomach.

A soft smile came to her lips.

Her feet were bare but he still wore his boots, which wasn't ideal, but she still had her elbows.

She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed, feeling his arm relax slightly, before driving her elbow into his ribs the same moment she yanked the arm that held the dagger down, using that split second of distraction to twist out of his grip and pull a blade of her own.

"Too easy, soldier.", She mocked, as her blade sparkled in the sunlight, like his own.

He smirked devilishly as they circled each other on the sands. He was still wearing full gear, from boot to collar in heavy leather, having only just arrived.

Late, as usual.

With his long limbs and fast legs, he was faster but she had agility on her side and far quicker feet.

"I did not hear Vhagar.", She admitted, glancing at the sky for a split second.

"I kept her quiet.", He shot back, but as soon as he had started speaking she dashed for the rocks.

His boots sunk in heavy in the sands, buying her the extra time to reach the hiding place before he could. From it she drew the practice sword and kept him at bay.

Sure, he had a sabre of his own, but he would never use live steel against her, she had dared him once, in the black of night on the battlements of King’s Landing.

All too quickly he had knocked her back and taken the sharpened steel from her hand the same way one would take a toy from a child.

And the next time they had practice swords in their hands, he had sent her home black and blue from heel to collarbone. If they had used live steel she would have been carved up like a peace of ham and that was his way of driving that particular lesson home.

Chuckling, he sheathed his dagger.

With her foot, she closed the trapdoor that lead to that little hollow space which held their practice swords.

"Now, now, play nice, niece!", He warned her, clicking his tongue.

She smirked as she pushed him back.

"I was taught never to play nice.", She reminded him.

She saw pride glint in his eye, and the light reflect in the other.

Around her, he never wore his patch, instead showing off the sapphire he had picked as a replacement.

"You must've had a good teacher."

She was about to respond, which was her mistake as the sand landed not only in her eye but her mouth as well.

Cursing, she stumbled back- it was never good to be stagnant, not for one second.

She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve and spat out the dirt.

It was the time he needed for retrieve a sword of his own, leiserously cutting circles in the air.

"Let's see what else he taught you!", He insisted before lunging at her.

Now this is unfair, she thought.

He was taller, stronger and had longer arms. But that was just why she trained with him.

When she trained with her brothers they would treat her like she would shatter.

Once, after accidentally landing one blow on her wrist, Jace had even let her win- it had taken weeks for her to forgive that.

Baela and Rhaena were good sparring partners, but they were women like her and most enemies they could ever face in battle would be bigger, stronger, taller men with every advantage in the book.

Her uncle thought the only advantage they would ever need were their dragons, which she understood and even believed, but if the boys were trained in the art of swordplay, she wanted to master it too.

Say what you want about Aemond Targaryen, but he never went easy on her, making him just the kind of teacher she needed.

His blows drove her back, and once she nearly stumbled, but managed to keep her footing despite having to block a blow coming to her side.

He could afford slashing from the sides in wider motions, but she was too much in his range to do so.

Instead, her only chance was lunging forward in quick motions before pulling back at once.

This piercing stab wasn't as easily blocked as wide slashes, so he jumped to the side instead, making her hit air.

She ducked to avoid his next attempt before she had an idea and darted away.

One, two, three hastily taken steps until she felt the warmth of her sun on the back of her neck.

Perfect.

And only then did she attack.

He had to take a few steps back, seeing them a split second later.

Their swords crossed around an inch before his face but with a single show of force, he brought the locked swords down.

"Naughty.", Aemond said, still squinting slightly from the blinding sun he now faced.

She grinned from ear to ear, knowing it was the highest praise, as her chest rose and fell from the exertion.

Then he gave her shoulder a single shove that sent her crashing to the ground.

She raised her sword at once, but he was towering over her, the tip of his own aimed at her throat.

Then he let it travel lower to the lacing that held her undershirt together.

With expert precision, he dipped the tip of the practice blade in between the first and second cross and tugged it upward, making the ribbon hiss as it came slightly more undone.

"You could have just asked.", She chirped, her eyes never leaving her opponent.

"I don't have to ask when I have the upper hand.", He reminded her.

But while he was standing over her, he hadn't seen her twist her legs.

With all her might she kicked her foot into the back of his knee.

It folded just as she had expected, while she scrambled back, seeing him kneeling for one split second.

But it gave her enough time to get away and raise her sword in response for the new flurry of blows he sought to rain down on her for spoiling his fun.

She could never win in a straight one-on-one, but that wasn’t what she was practising nor what he was teaching.

Outmatched as she was, she practised what would be useful to her in real combat - a good defence that would buy enough time for a sneak attack or a victory by trickery.

“Are you getting tired, old man?”, she teased after almost landing a strike of her own.

“Perhaps I’m going easy on you.”

She took a blow to the side only so that she could crack her blade against his shin.

“Don’t you ever go easy on me, Aemond!”, she demanded, her anger overshadowing her pain.

And he didn’t. They sparred until she felt her arms would fall off, until her sides ached and her feet throbbed.

Tomorrow, she’d have to tell her siblings all sorts of lies.

It was the sweetest kind of pain, but it did exhaust her and when her sword shot up to block his once more, her arms could no longer stand the impact. She had also forgotten to prevent another of her oddities.

“Shit!”, she cursed, as a sharp pain shot through her lips, not because either sword had struck her but because a bit of flesh had been caught between her lips.

She tasted metal and closed her eyes to the treacherous pain that brought tears to her eyes.

“Let me see, let me see!”, Aemond demanded.

The same hands that had delt her blow after blow now cupped her face with the utmost gentleness, tilting it upward slightly.

“I’m fine!”, she hissed and tried to turn away.

“I said let me see!”

His voice allowed no room for argument.

He frowned as his thumb traced the outline of her lower lip before pulling it down so that he could see the already swelling flesh inside.

“I said I’m fine.”, she insisted, wiping her lip with her sleeve and seeing the red dots.

“Enough for today.”, Aemond announced, his thumb brushing against her lower lip once more.

“No!”, she argued.

He, however, picked up his sword and began to walk back to where they would hide them.

“I said no!”, she snapped, storming after him.

She swung at his shoulder to get his attention, but he had anticipated her blow, spun and blocked the practice sword with his lower arm.

Before she could draw back, his fingers had wrapped around the edge of the practice sword and pulled it forward harshly, making her lose her footing once more due to his force.

“I said enough.”, he repeated, now holding both practice swords firmly in his grip.

For the longest time he had been short, even smaller then her, until just after his eleventh birthday he had decided to turn into a beanpole, surpassing not only her but Helaena, Aegon and finally even Jace in rapid succession.

It just wasn’t fair.

Something changed in his gaze as he looked at her.

“We heard about the trouble with the pirates.”, Aemond said. “Were you really there?”

She beamed from ear to ear and nodded.

“Daemon took me and he was right to.”, she admitted. “The clouds were low that day, so they didn’t even see Syraxes until she breathed her fire.”

“What about Vermax? Or did my dear nephews stay at home and let their sister do all the work?”

She didn’t miss the slight in that.

“Jace and Luke were there too.”, she quickly said. “But Vermax and Arrax aren’t as practised with sea winds.”

Her dragon egg had hatched on Driftmark, all those years ago, revealing a pale blue almost grey dragon, and she loved the sea. While other dragons resided in the Dragonmont, Syraxes had made her lair on a cliffside, close to the water and sky.

Even during practice, they raced on land, while she and her dragon both preferred the open waters.

And during a sea battle, that was an advantage.

“Tell me.”, Aemond demanded to know.

“They wanted to disrupt the Velaryon shipping routes.”, she said with a shrug. “So they faced the Velaryon dragons.”

Aemond’s lip twitched.

“And Caraxes.”

“Yes. Caraxes.”

What a fierce dragon that was, long and terrible with that twisted neck of his.

“But it’s not just strength, you know.”, she argued, rubbing her sore hand between her fingers.

“Are you teaching me now?”, he demanded to know sharply.

“Maybe.”, she argued. “I’ve seen more of battle than you, at least on dragon back.”

Aemond scoffed.

“Vhagar has seen a thousand battles.”, he hissed.

“And you’ve seen none. I’ve seen three now.”

Granted, they were all at sea, and one was just her and Vermax against a single pirate ship, but then again, practice was practice.

“There’s not a dragon alive who can defeat Vhagar.”, he argued.

“In strength, no, but she’s not as agile nor as quick. That is our main advantage on dragonback. We can more faster than they will ever have time to replace their trebuchets.”

That was something Daemon taught them.

For all his battle skill, Aemond and his siblings weren’t taught the art of fighting on dragonback.

But it was her grandmother, Prince Daemon and before them even her own father who had taught them more than merely flying on dragon back.

Agility, speed, those were just as fierce as dragonfire if one knew how to use them.

“A large dragon and a quick dragon, that is the best pair for battle.”, she decreed.

“The large dragon will win every time.”

“Not against each other, you fool!”, she hissed. “Together.”

That was the way they had succeeded against the pirates, with Caraxes drawing most of the arrows and Vermax and Syraxes attacking from beyond where they could see, setting mast and sail ablaze.

But Aemond didn’t look convinced.

So she had to be a little more convincing.

“You underestimate the impact of a strike from above on an unsuspecting enemy.", She said innocently, enjoying being able to look down on him for once, from this pile of rocks.

He did reply something, but she never heard it, not while she jumped to the closest stone and cried out the Valyrian order for attack.

Aemond spun and dropped the swords but too late- by that time she was already crashing into him with full force. Her weight hit him straight in the chest, toppling him and her both.

He landed with a thud as he hit the sand. She was kneeling on his torso, one hand around his throat, the other pressed firmly to the middle of the chest.

“Do you yield?”, she asked, squeezing her hand just slightly, not nearly enough to cause him pain or make him lack air, but enough so that he would feel it.

His groan of pain turned into a breathless chuckle.

"Fair.", He admitted, still laid out on the sand. "But when you strike like that, make sure you strike well."

His eye flashed as he grinned up at her.

"Because it brings you in too close proximity and there strength will win again!"

All air left her lungs as her back hit the ground, his broad frame blocking out the sun.

Not only had he thrown her to her back, he had also grabbed both her hands in his and pinned them above her head.

She tugged at her hands but he only smirked, shaking his head slightly.

The tips of his silver blonde strands brushed tickled the delicate skin on her neck.

She tugged at her wrists, but she might as well have tried to move a mountain and it didn't even faze him.

That alone made all sorts of emotion bubble up inside her, good and bad and dangerous.

She kicked her legs but only hit thin air as his hand, the one not holding her wrists hostage found the ribbons at the top of her shirt once more.

He picked one between his fingers and pulled at it agonisingly slowly, then the other, then the third and fourth.

For such an impatient man, he was impossibly good at being slow, if only to aggravate her further.

But she wouldn't give him that.

Instead she merely leaned back and closed her eyes, choosing to look like she enjoyed the sun more than his touch.

His fingers brushed against her skin, tracing along her collarbone, stroking up her neck to her chin.

Still, she did not react, knowing fully well that Aemond could suffer nothing more than indifference.

His grip on her jaw proved her right as he held her face in place, crashing his lips down on hers.

His kiss inflamed her, and it took all her will not to kiss him back with equal passion.

But if she couldn't beat him in strength, she could match him in will.

She could hear the low rumble of rage in his chest, before he traced his teeth over her bottom lip.

The pain made her gasp and he used the chance to invade her mouth.

Aemond's kisses had gained in skill over time, but they had always been consuming.

Even during their very first kiss, years ago when they were but children, it had made invisible flames burn inside her, and yet it felt like he wasn't just making her feel things she never had before, he was taking something from her too.

And she couldn't hold onto her pride for much longer.

When he finally pulled back, she could see her smeared blood in his swollen lips and a hunger in his eyes.

She grinned up at him, rubbing her leg against his thigh slightly.

"My, my- have you pulled yet another dagger on me?"

"Tease me and you'll be sorry!", Aemond warned.

"How sorry?", She wanted to know with a grin.

His eyes darkened in a different kind of way as his hand slipped under her shirt.

She knew this, all of this, was beyond dangerous. It was playing with a kind of fire even Targaryens could not hope to harness.

But they knew above all others, above any mere mortal men that fire was addicting and they were part fire themselves.

And their touch burned.

Once more she was at a disadvantage- her shirt was too easily removed while her fingers fumbled with his leather lacing.

And again, he beat her to it.

The first time, her first time at least, had been clumsy and cautious, with Aemond taking the lead.

He had been gentle then, kissing and caressing her and while he had taken the lead, he was guiding her too.

That gentleness they shared had been replaced by a battle of its own.

Now their kisses bruised instead of tickled.

He entered her with two of his fingers, and while she was soaking for him already, it made pleasure mix with pain, but so was their way.

Giving her no chance to adapt, he thrust them into her again, and again, making sure to brush his thumb over that particular with every stroke, until she was breathless and shaking.

Everything melted away in the light of his touch, and the determination he had to bend her to his will. She squirmed in his grip, desperate to free her hands, to reach for him and bury them in his hair- but he was unrelenting in everything but bringing her closer to the edge.

"Aemond!", She whimpered as she bit down on her lip by instinct, feeling the slightest of wounds his bite had worsened earlier.

"Look at me!", He ordered, driving his fingers in as deep as he could.

Her eyes fluttered open, already glassy with pleasure.

His eye was black as cole and his lips glistened, tinted red by the rush of his blood and the stain of hers.

"Yield.", He demanded, his voice so cold it made her stomach coil in even more pleasure.

Inside her, his fingers curled, making her back arch, desperate for more.

All this pleasure he had built up inside her, she was so close to claiming if as her own, so close she could almost touch the stats she began the darkness of her eyelids.

"Yield or I'll leave you as you are."

It was not an empty threat, she knew.

She could see the lust in his eye, the desire for her, but she also knew he had the power of will to get up at once, call Vhagar and fly back to King's Landing without a mere glance back.

He'd be raging of course, but he would leave all the same.

But she wasn't about to risk that, after all, she wanted him too. And she wanted all of him, in every way a woman could have a man, but for that she would have to give herself to him entirely first.

Her everything in exchange for his'.

Nothing less would do.

She tugged at her hands once more and this time he let her go.

At once she buried them in his hair, pulling him so close she could feel his haughty breath on her lips.

"Only to you.", she whispered in the faintest of voices.

That was enough for him.

He pushed her over the edge with ease.

There were three thrills in her eyes, riding a boat in a storm, taking flight with her dragon and then the pleasure Aemond could bring her, and whenever she experienced one she was sure the others would never compare.

He did not give her the time to recover.

Instead he had pulled her up like a ragdoll and entered her in a single motion before she had the chance to come down from her high.

She was so sensitive now, that it hurt, but it was that place where pain and pleasure met that they craved.

As she buried her face in the crook of his neck, she dug her nails into his back, clinging to him.His own hand weaved its way into the back of her hair while the other was pressed firmly to her back.

It was almost as if he wanted them to melt into each other completely.

Even if it would be the last thing he ever did.

Her second climax was fast approaching but she held back, bearing down to hold on for but a moment longer.

His grip loosened and he almost stroked the tips of his thumb over her head.

"I've got you.", He whispered in her ear, just as breathless and panting as she was. "Let go, I've got you."

And she knew he did.

It was the wind that woke her, blowing loose strands of hair into her face until it tickled.

Then she heard the sea and smelled the salt.

When her eyes fluttered open she shifted slightly, feeling the soft sand move.

When she sat up, his cloak slipped off her shoulder. It was black bordered in green and smelled of him. And of dragon.

But when did Aemond ever not smell of dragon?

It wasn't difficult. He never strayed far, especially not when she was asleep.

Sometimes she'd wake with her head in his lap, or with his fingers stroking through her hair or over her shoulder.

Today he was sitting beside her, cross-legged in the sand.

He had completely undone his hair, the wind playing tricks like the waves.

She'd have to braid it up again before he left.

As she shifted, her thighs brushed and a single touch confirmed her suspicion of the lingering stickiness between her legs.

"You didn't clean up your mess then?", She asked. Brushing her hand over her neck she felt a spark of pain. “And I’ll have to wear a high collar gown too. Couldn’t you have been careful for once?”

Aemond looked up, meeting her eyes.

"Why would I?", He asked, tilting his head. "Word is you're hosting the Archon of Tyrosh's ambassadors."

His words made her smile.

"That's it then?", She asked, leaning over.

The cloak slipped, but she didn't mind.

Apart from Aemond, no one was around for mike's and even if they were, they wouldn't dare come near with two dragons on and around the island.

"Jealousy?"

Aemond scoffed and spoke with nothing but disdain.

"All Tyroshi look like mummers with dyed hair and painted beards."

"They have the largest fleet of all of the free cities."

He glanced down and began to tear a piece of seaweed to shreds.

"You are a dragon rider, not a fish haggler's wife.", He sneered.

She couldn't help but giggle as she pressed a playful kiss to his cheek.

He pulled away the way he would have done when he was ten, before he knew the value of kisses.

"Jealousy suits you."

He threw her a dark glare, but it's burning fury was not directed at her.

With a sigh, she lowered her arms and layed down in his lap.

On instinct, his hand found her head.

"An alliance with Tyrosh would guarantee peace with the Free Cities.", She repeated what she had heard again and again.

She knew it was foolish, of course. There was no guarantee for peace, not ever. But it would bring them a lot closer.

"Is that why you would marry?", He asked. "For peace?"

"There are worse reasons.", She sighed.

"If your mother wants you to marry for peace she should have given you to me."

"It was your mother that turned down the true marriage for peace.", She reminded him. "Jace and Helaena and Aegon and me."

His fingers stopped his caresses.

"If you want Aegon, all you have to do is dress up as a silk street whore or a serving wench and he’ll have his hand under your skirt before the hour is up.", Aemond sneered.

That made her roll over so she could look at his face.

“If he does, will you kill him or me then?”, she wanted to know curiously.

His sapphire eye caught the light as he met her gaze, his own unreadable.

Sometimes, here on their little island which they kept secret from everyone but their dragons, when he was as gentle with her as he was now, his fingers drawing lazy lines through her hair, or his hands working on the soreness of her muscles after yet another harsh lesson he taught with more diligence than their master of arms, she was almost sure he loved her, or as sure as one could be with Aemond Targaryen.

Sometimes, when he held her with no sound but the waves and his calming steady heartbeat, her mind would wonder and carry her far away, to the Free Cities and beyond, to everything that strange continent across the Narrow Sea could offer.

Daemon and Laena had done it, so it wouldn't even be the first time Vhagar took to Essos.

They could resides like Kings there, could cross the Dothraki Sea, or visit the strange worlds of Yi-Ti, or go to Ashai, Volantis or the other places where they worshipped fire.

There they would be more than kings. They would be Gods.

But she didn't need that, not really. Both Aemond and her weren’t meant for ruling, for worship and praise. They had a restlessness in them, the same restlessness that brought Aegon to these shores a century ago. The two of them were the blood of the dragon in more then name, conquerors, warriors, not rulers and priests.

With a sigh she banished her thoughts and girlish dreams of foreign shores.

They were impossibly far away for her, even on dragon back.

And like her, Aemond was his brother's keeper.

Her mother needed her, as did Jace and all their younger siblings, not only as a sister, but as an advisor, ally and protector. That would only grow when first she, and then her brother sat the Iron Throne.

And for as long as they needed her, she would never leave their side. Not even for Aemond.

End

Part II

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear what you think!

#aemond Targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond Targaryen/ reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen / oc #house of the dragon #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen #the man the myth the menace #valentineswritinga #dragon's blood

1K notes · View notes