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chahnniesroom · 20 hours

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to have and to hold

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?”

Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.

Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.

“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”

“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.

“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”

“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”

“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.”

“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”

“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”

“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”

—

Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.

Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.

Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach.

When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.

“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.

“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”

Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.

Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball,

some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.

He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.

“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.

Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.

“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”

“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”

Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.

“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”

He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.

It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.

“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”

By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.

Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.

When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal.

After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.

Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.

When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.

That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck.

“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”

“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”

“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

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camille-lachenille · 14 days

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Day 2: the Darkening

Dear Nerdanel,

I am sorry to respond to you letters so late but mother has been unwell as of late. I read aloud each of you letters to her as she rested, and it brought her much comfort, but she bid me not to reply until she recovered. And the rising of the Sun seems to have greatly helped with her health as she is now almost back to herself, save the grief. Indeed, since she is now out of danger, I can tell you that the pain of losing father and my siblings in such a short time caused mother to nearly fade. And for much time I feared her fate would be that of Míriel and she would join the Broidress in the gardens of Lórien. But I thank the Valar that the new light lifted the darkness weighting over her fëa and she is now as well as she can be.

Mother is already feeling so well that, in a few weeks time as we count them now, she will journey to the gardens of Lórien to enter the tutelage of Estë for she is wary of the company of Elves, even her own family.

It saddens me to know I will not see her as often but the mere idea of learning the arts of healing makes Indis glow in a way I have not seen in far too many years, and I would never begrudge my own mother solace and a happier future after so much loss.

Yet, I am loath to admit I will feel lonely in Valmar without her. Uncle Ingwë’s family would welcome me readily, and I love them dearly, but, despite my temper and my efforts, I fear I am far too much of a Noldo to find a place in Valmar. I miss discussing poetry and linguistics at Tirion’s university far too much… Arafinwë would certainly find me some role in Tirion but I find myself faring so much better far from the matters of the court that I will go to him only as a last resort should I fail to find myself a purpose.

But enough talking of me! Tell me, my friend, how did you fare all those long years of Darkness and what are your plans for the future now that there is light again? And most importantly, do you have anyone to support you in your own grief?

Yours truly,

Findis Finwiel

***

Dear Findis,

I am relived to hear of Indis, though it saddens me to learn she has been ill for such a long time and that she dwells far from you now. I live in my father’s halls since before the Darkening, and I am glad to have my parents near me to lessen somewhat the loss of my sons. I confess I still find myself torn between anger and grief when I think about them and thus tend to work until I collapse. Only then I am free of the memories. But you must think me maudlin, dear Findis, and maybe even ungrateful for what I have. The newly risen Sun has done much to lift my mood already but I still find myself lonely. Perhaps, sharing our troubles may help?

Whatever is your answer, my friend, know there will always be a friendly ear and room room for you in Mahtan’s Halls.

Send my regards and well wishes to Indis, and may she find hope and joy under the tutelage of Estë.

Friendly yours,

Nerdanel Mahtaniel

#findis #nerdanel #legendarium ladies #the silmarillion #tolkien #silmarillion epistolary #this is actually part of a longer work in pause #tolkien fic

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chaepink · 9 months

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pathetic sub!yandere boys ♡

pathetic, disgusting yandere boys that can't help but be obsessed with you.

wc: 1k+ words | masterlist | part two

dom!fem!reader, stalking, begging, unhealthy relationship, mention of fucking

note: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SHORT

Yandere boys are honestly adorable. But not just any regular yandere boys, im talking about pathetic boys that slowly turn possessive and less innocent the more obsessed they are with you.

The ones that stalk you in and out of school as they take pictures of you when you're not looking, even sometimes up your skirt when you're turned around! The ones that offer to help you with everything during school, blushing whenever you thank him and give him a compliment before rushing towards the nearest bathroom to jerk off cause they got hard from the small praise you gave them. how pathetic!

Yandere boys that would try their best to become your best friend, even going long lengths to hang out with you every second you're free.

You were going to go to the carnival with a friend? Suddenly that friend has to cancel on you because they feel sick, not knowing that your yandere added something weird to their lunch.

A friend asked if you wanted to hang with them later and you agreed? Thats weird because now they're not picking up their phone or answering their texts. Well guess who stole their phone and hid it somewhere where they wouldn't find it.

Whenever you're sad, your yandere will buy you loads of snacks and comfort you as best as they can.

Its cute really, how they try so hard to hide their obsession with you from you, even going as far as to anonymously threaten your friends that tell you how weird and creepy they are.

But everytime your friends warn you, you just smile back and them and say that [character] is just super nice to you and thats all.

Your yandere boy is so desperate for you that it's so pathetic yet so cute at the same time.

They think that you have no clue of his intentions or what he's done but little does he know, you actually do.

You know how they stalk you, how they try to separate you from your friends, how they're absolutely obsessed with you.

And so when you come over to their house to work on a class project, you're not surprised to find a big journal that has a heart on the cover with your name on it peeking out from under their bed when you come in their room. Opening it only to find lewd drawings and pictures of you alongside long paragraphs that your yandere wrote.

Reading the paragraphs and how it describes how every desire [character] has with you, even being specific as to say the exact details that would happen with each situation.

The first one you read includes how they want to get fucked by you, describing how they want to be bent over their bed as they cry and sob from the pleasure you give them.

It continues with you making him cum multiple times as you wrap a hand around his neck, leaning towards their ear to whisper degrading praise to him.

You continue reading the rest, watching as his desires turn darker and darker as they become even more specific than before, as if they actually happened before.

But before you could reach the end, your yandere opens the door with some snacks in his hand. Poor him really, cause he would have never expected for you to find out about his obsession with you.

But you're glad you did because now you get to watch as he pauses at the door, dropping the snacks in shock when he sees you with his journal in hand. Watch as his eyes flood with tears as he begins to shake from fear and shock, his face turning red as he tries to choke back a sob. Watch as he stumbles in front of you, landing on his knees as he looks into your eyes to no longer see any love in them but instead something dark that makes him shiver. Maybe it's disgust, maybe it's something entirely else.

They beg you to forget what you just saw, tears flooding down their face. It's just so embarrassing for them that you found out about their obsession with you. You can't help but coo at them as you tilt their head towards you, pressing your foot against the bulge in his pants because of course he couldn't help but get hard in this situation. That's just how pathetic they are, you think its cute though.

Hearing them let out a pitiful whimper as he lays his head on your thigh, pleading you with their eyes. Big cute eyes that try to convince you that he's done nothing wrong.

The situation is no longer about the journal when he starts to let out adorable noises when you continue to grind your foot against his bulge, making him quickly cum in the matter of seconds.

But even though he just came just a few moments ago, the way you call them pathetic with the disgust in your voice makes him hard again as he hump your foot.

They'll let you do anything to them. Dress them up, degrade him, humiliate them, they dont care! They're yours to use.

Secretly, your yandere is grateful that you found the journal under their bed. They actually wanted you to. They wanted you to get disgusted as you read the contents within their journal.

They hoped that you would punish them for how lewd and disgusting they are and they would be so grateful when you actually do.

Make the situations in his journal that he forever dreamed of come true as all he can do is moan and scream your name as you use him like a toy for your pleasure. Make him fall apart underneath you as his body gets littered with bite marks that compliment his body so nicely.

If he's too loud, shut him up with a choker or even better, your panties. The way his eyes would roll back as he cums for the nth time that night. But you're not done with him yet, oh not anytime soon.

You have to punish him for everything that he's ever done to you.

The whole situation is messed up but no matter how obsessed they are with you, you wouldn't ever trade them for the world. After all, they're your yandere.

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

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seireiteihellbutterfly · 3 months

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JJK Men And Reader With A Sensitive Clit

part 2 with Geto here

♥ Warnings: Mentions of trauma, sexual themes, clit and vaginal fingering, oral sex

♥ Summary: Reader with a sensitive clit. What will our men do to work around this?

♥ Featuring: Gojo and Nanami

♥ Word Count: 1957

JJK Masterlist

Gojo

“So fucking wet… can't believe this is all for me…”

Your new lover is eager to please and you lay back as his tongue pampers your clit, licking at it like candy. Whimpers escape your mouth, your hips rocking to meet his rhythm, but the thoughts at the back of your mind are distracting you.

That's it? You couldn't last longer than that?

That's no fun… You cum too soon

You and your over sensitive clit… You don't deserve to be eaten out if you're going to cum so soon…

You are suddenly filled with anxiety and you stop being responsive. You were already close. Super close but your body jerked at those thoughts and moved your pussy away from Gojo, making him lose his rhythm.

Piercing blue eyes look at you, his mouth setting into a frown. “Did you not like it?”

You take a few deep breaths, trying to gather your thoughts but the memory is still stuck, taunting you. “No I liked it…Was about to cum actually.”

Gojo's eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Then why…?”

You bring yourself up to a sitting position, feeling embarrassed and slightly humiliated. Gojo scoots over to you and starts stroking your hair. “Are you uncomfortable? Because if you are -”

“It's not you.” You cut him off, unsure if you wanted to tell him. You're worried he would think the same way your past boyfriend did. That you were boring, that it's not fun when a girl cums too soon, that you should not expect oral if it gets you off that fast…

Gojo has been watching you patiently this whole time, trying to process your reactions. He strokes your arm, concerned. “What are you not telling me y/n?”

You sigh, your face burning. “I cum too fast.”

Gojo blinks, unsure if he heard you correctly. “You… What?”

“It doesn’t take long for me to orgasm, Like if it’s really good, I can have one in under a minute.”

Gojo still looks confused. “And this is a problem because…?”

“You don’t think it’s boring to have a partner who cums too fast?” Your chest tightens at the thought, wondering what he thinks about you. Gojo continues to stroke your arm, before giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Ah…I’d say that’s kind of hot. Under a minute? Really?”

You look at him in surprise. “Really? You don’t think it’s weird? You don’t think…” you pause before saying the rest. “You don’t think you’ll get tired of giving me oral if I keep cumming so fast, and it’s over before you really got into it?”

He chuckles softly and pulls you against his chest. “Pretty girl…where’d you get it in your head that giving oral gets boring if you cum quickly?”

You blush against his toned chest. “Just…an ex…”

“Then they’re not worthy of you. Aw baby, no. Don’t you ever think that way.”

Reassured, you nestle against his chest. A few moments pass in silence before he speaks again. “Have you ever had multiple orgasms before?”

You look at him in confusion. “No but, what does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, I read somewhere that if you cum really quickly, that’s not your real orgasm. It’s a pre-orgasm which then leads to the big one.” He looks at you thoughtfully. “Wanna try it out?”

The expression on your face says it all. “You’d want to do this with me?”

“Hell yeah. You think I’m not up for it? A chance to make you cum over and over?”

Internally, you couldn’t believe it. He really wanted to do this. Were you even capable of multiple orgasms? You were so sensitive after it happens. Gojo seems to read into your uncertainty and he reassures you. “At any point if you’re uncomfortable just tell me. I swear I’ll stop.”

He kisses his way down your body, parting your legs, licking your inner thighs, before going back to licking the sensitive bud. His arms lock around your upper thighs to prevent them from closing.

You feel the buildup happen quickly, moaning as your folds grow wet from your slick and his saliva. The orgasm grips you within a few seconds and you moan lewdly, feeling Gojo’s tongue press up flat against your clit as your sex spasms from pleasure.

“You weren’t kidding…” He laps up at your juices, the sounds of wetness adding to your arousal.

“No I wasn’t I - ohhhh.” Your words cut off as Gojo gets back into it, his lips pulling on your clit, abusing the very tip of it with his tongue. You feel your mind go hazy, pussy sensitive from the recent climax and whine. “Gojo…It’s…sensitive…ngh…”

His eyes lock onto yours and you can’t help but stare back, seeing nothing but enthusiasm. Sweat breaks out on your skin as he keeps eating you out, his long fingers slipping into your leaking core, finding that spot inside you and curling his fingers into it. It’s like a hook behind your navel is pulled, and you mewl your pleasure as a second orgasm hits you almost instantly.

The second one felt so much different than the first. The first one felt almost delicate in comparison to this one which had a stronger intensity, your pussy spasming around his fingers for what felt like minutes before finally receding. You try to catch your breath as Gojo grins at you from between your legs.

“How about a third one?”

You chuckle weakly and bite your lip.

“As many as you’ll give me.”

Nanami

It’s finally happening. After patiently dating for nearly 2 months, you and Nanami decide you’re both ready to get physically intimate. His kisses were so tender and sweet, taking his time until you started sighing against his lips, slipping your tongue for more. Both your clothes came off slowly, as he laid you back on the bed, drinking in your blushy face and how sensitive you were to his touch, his every whisper and tickle.

You were enjoying yourself at first, moaning as he kissed and nibbled your neck, your collarbone, as he came down to your breasts, swirling your hardened nipples with his tongue. Your body was soft and compliant under his, admiring how beautiful and toned he was, his sharp brown eyes looking at you with affection as he ran his tongue between your breasts, down to your belly, nibbling your belly button as he continued down to the sweet spot between your thighs.

You try to remind yourself this is a different person, that Nanami wouldn’t ever shame you or hurt you but memories keep intruding your thoughts as he starts to part your legs.

It hurts…don’t do it like that…

It hurts? What’s wrong with you? You’re a chick right? Don’t like having your clit touched? What’s the fun if you can’t handle some pressure?

I don’t like it that hard…

The pain will pass…just wait it’ll feel good….

No…stop…

Let me touch it…

You’re hurting me…stop…STOP…!

“Y/n?”

You hadn’t even realized you’d squeezed your eyes shut and that there’s a tear rolling down your cheek. Mortified, you look to see Nanami crouching between your legs, his expression full of concern. He stops immediately and moves up towards you as you clutch the blanket and try to cover yourself, shame filling you. You had hoped the trauma would go away if you had tried to have sex again, with someone you felt like you could trust. To get Nanami’s hopes up like this, then to have this response…Would you be able to enjoy sex like a normal person ever again?

Strong, warm arms envelope you from behind, pulling you to his chest, comforting you. Nanami rests his cheek on your hair.

“I’m fine.”

”You were crying y/n. That’s not fine.” His hands gently cover yours, which are tightly clasping the blanket. “Talk to me.”

Those words, spoken with so much sincerity, almost make you break down completely.

”It’s nothing, I just…I don’t like…” You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling mortified that you have to say this. “I don’t like having my clit touched. Every time anyone tries to touch it, it’s too…hard? Painful? I don’t know. I just don’t like it.” The words roll out.

”And…were you crying because I was about to…?”

You take a deep breath, realizing you’ll have to tell him the truth because otherwise, he’ll probably assume it was something he did, because that’s just who he was. “It wasn’t you. In the past I wasn’t treated very nicely about this. A lot of people told me it’s supposed to feel good, that the pain was part of the pleasure. And I know it can feel good, because it does when I do it by myself. But others…”

Your voice trails off. You wait for it. For him to realize you’re a freak. There’s a moment of silence. Then…

”Why not tell me if you didn’t want me to go there?” His voice is soft, full of understanding.

”I don’t know. I just didn’t want you to think I was weird. I want to have someone touch me there and feel good but it just hasn’t worked well in the past.”

The delicate strength he holds you with comforts you and you manage to calm down. He was silent for a moment then he asks you, “How do you do it?”

”What?” You’re surprised by the question.

”You said it feels good when you do it. So how do you do it?”

Your face flushes red. No one had asked before. “I um…kind of…just…grab both sides of my pussy…and roll it in between.”

“Would you be open to me doing that?”

You take a minute to process his words, unsure.

”I’ll stop if it starts to hurt,” he adds immediately. He’d never hurt you, never on purpose.

With a nod of your head, you turn to lay on your back and the both of you start up again, the kisses, the little tickling caresses. When you start sighing, he slips his hand down and gently places his thumb and index finger on the fatty folds of your pussy, giving a soft squeeze which has you gasping.

You take deep breaths, and then he brings the folds together over your clit and its heaven. Your eyes close, savoring the gentle pleasure that you thought you would never experience. He keeps his eyes on your face, looking for signs of discomfort, but none show up. He keeps a steady rhythm, rolling the little bud between your steadily moistening folds, building up your arousal until you feel yourself dripping with need.

A delicious shiver passes through your body and before you can stop yourself, you say, “faster”. There had never been a time you’d asked for it to be faster.

His fingers, so dexterous and clever, pick up the speed that’s rolling the folds of your sex and you whimper at the sensation, not painful at all. You half open your eyes, your mind somewhere between pleasure and reality, see his brown eyes fixated on yours, making you blush at the intensity of his gaze.

His free hand tugs your hardened nipple, his mouth coming down over the other one. The sensation builds slowly, the room filling with your delighted mewling, hips bucking, desperate for a release. Heat gathers in your belly, your abdominal muscles tightening, his fingers patient and tender.

Your fingers grip the bedsheets as you sob out your pleasure, climax gripping you so softly yet intensely, wave after wave racking your system. His fingers keep up their movements guiding you through it. When you start to quiet down he tenderly kisses your lips.

“Was that all right?”

You sigh and rest against the pillow.

“More than all right.”

dividers by @/cafekitsune

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strangersteddierthings · 5 months

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Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.

Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.

He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.

It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.

He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.

"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.

"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."

"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.

"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.

Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."

Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."

"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."

A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"

"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."

Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."

"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."

"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."

Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"

"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.

Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."

Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.

"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."

"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"

The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."

"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."

The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."

Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."

"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."

"He thinks his own parents are bad?"

Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."

"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."

Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."

"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."

There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.

Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.

"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.

Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."

"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.

"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.

Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.

Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.

True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.

"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.

"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.

"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."

Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."

"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."

"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.

"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."

"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"

"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."

Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."

Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.

"You've every right to be."

Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"

"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."

"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"

Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.

"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.

To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.

Now he's got two apologies to make.

I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88

#steddie #my fic #wayne pov #wayne munson #eddie munson #honestly this didnt go the way i thought it would #so there will be a third and final part. Wayne's gonna make it right because he's a good uncle. A good dad.#SPOILER: steve doesnt even show up in this part so im not tagging him

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luvsellie · 1 year

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TONIGHT YOU ARE MINE [s. neteyam]

pairing neteyam x metkayina!fem!reader

summary fed up with his siblings stealing you away while the sun shines, neteyam decides it's best to see you during eclipse

wc 1.2k

warnings mentions of jealousy, probably littered with grammatical errors (oops)

note first actual neteyam oneshot 😋 it took me WAYYYY too long to actually finish this. i must admit i’m a bit embarrassed lol. also this is heavily inspired by this song !!

glossary yawntutsyìp (darling), skxawng (idiot), oel ngati kameie (i see you)

neteyam wasn’t jealous. he wasn’t. he swore to both you and himself that jealousy was something he felt a lack of, always trusting in you and the relationship you both upheld. he took great pride in not having experienced the pesky emotion. but now, as he stood watching you from the shore of one of the reef’s many beaches, he was trying to force down the bitter feeling that caused his jaw to tighten and stature to straighten.

the na’vi stealing your attention away from him weren’t even strangers. neteyam felt more betrayed that you were making more time for his siblings than you were for him. he supposed he could join in on your fun, integrate himself into the smiles and laughter, but he wanted time with you and you alone. so as he turned away, gears beginning to turn in his mind, he worked out a supposed better moment to approach you.

“there you are! i’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

your words carried a lilt to them, and you wore an exhilarated smile as you walked up to neteyam, reaching for his hand in earnest.

“that’s funny, ‘cause i’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he replied gingerly, his lips pulling into a grin similar to yours. he took notice of the way you were practically bouncing on your heels as he began to tug you in the direction of the water.

it was just after eclipse, and you could sense that his family (or parents in particular) would be worried about him, but you didn’t question when he said, “come with me.”

his braids fell past his shoulders as he walked, and you squeezed his hand tenderly as water started to lap at your ankles, the waves pooling around your feet. out beyond the beach, the reef glowed with bioluminescence. you had always thought it to be prettier now than when the sun touched it.

“where are we going?” you asked.

neteyam shook his head, smile refusing to feign or falter. “you’ll see, yawntutsyìp. we’re not going far, just…out.” his tone of voice was stoic, and a small part of you thought there might be more to his answer than he was letting on.

“just out,” you repeated, hyper-aware of the way his hand felt in yours. “i like the sound of that. it has been a while since we have been together. alone.”

scoffing out a laugh, neteyam nodded, stealing a glance your way as you both walked along the shoreline. “indeed it has. you’ve been spending all of your time with my brother and sisters.”

you frowned at his words, mentally recalling your activities throughout the day. much to your dismay, neteyam was right. “they’ve required my attention; their breath hold is getting longer and longer each time we practice,” is all you told him.

“yes, but i require your time too,” neteyam drawled, his face morphed into an expression of longing. he pulled you to a stop. “you’re so distant when the sun comes out. why don’t you let tsireya take over. just for a day. i miss being with you.”

lips stretching into a soft smile, you released neteyam’s hand before bringing both your palms to his freckled face. his cheeks were warm against your skin as you said, “you’re with me now. and yes, i can talk to tsireya. she will take over tomorrow’s lessons.” after a slight pause, you stepped closer to him. “there’s no need to be so jealous, ‘teyam.”

your lover rolled his eyes, large hands grabbing your wrists and pulling them from his face. his thumbs smoothed over your knuckles as he said, “i’m not jealous. just…”

“envious of your siblings?” you finished for him, a teasing smile stretching your lips.

neteyam gave you an unamused look, but you noticed the way he was biting back a grin. “you’re such a skxawng.”

“says you!” there was no point in trying to hide that some part of you found it humorous and sweet that neteyam was jealous of his siblings for ‘stealing you away.’ you found it to be quite cute.

instead of trying to find a proper rebuttal to your intended banter, neteyam only sighed and guided your hands to rest behind his nape, his own fingers finding themselves latched to your hips. your front pressed against his, and he sighed as his amber eyes met yours.

intimidated by the sudden closeness, you found your insides twisted with anxiousness. in your peripheral, you noticed the way neteyam’s tail flickered behind him.

“what do you want to do tomorrow?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. his gaze consistently jumped to your mouth as he awaited your response.

hit by the abrupt urge to kiss him, you shook your head. “ask me when i’m not distracted by your presence, okay?”

neteyam grinned, and you caught sight of his elongated canines as he stroked the outline of your jaw with his right thumb. “when are you not distracted by my presence, yawntutsyìp?”

giving him a disgruntled look, you rolled your eyes, leaning into his touch regardless of your annoyed facade. “just shut up and kiss me, skxawng.” using the heels of your palms, you gently urged neteyam closer and pressed your lips against his, instantly losing yourself in his taste.

your mouth moved with his, fingers splaying and threading themselves into the roots of his braids. he was so close, and yet you wanted him closer, forever engraved into your skin and mind and soul. as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, you moaned quietly before pulling away. neteyam followed suit, though, and you found yourself exhaling as his mouth began to trail the column of your neck.

“neteyam,” you said, failing to steal his attention away from the marks he was branding onto your skin. “neteyam.”

he breathed heavily against your throat. “what?”

“people…” you started, mind clouded with the sensation of his warm tongue. “people will notice marks, neteyam.”

“good,” he regarded with no hesitation, placing chaste kisses on your jawline. “let them notice.”

you let out a strained whine, your eyes locked on the blazing stars above, hands sliding down to his biceps. “my parents will notice. yours will too.”

at this, neteyam finally pulled back, his gaze lidded. his head tilted ever so slightly to the left. “what is so bad about them noticing?”

exhaling through your nose, you shot him a pointed look before shifting yourself against him. you rested your forehead against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut. “there’s nothing distinctively wrong, i suppose. everything about this—about you—just makes me nervous. or, rather, excited. my mind and senses feel tuned to a hundred percent when i’m with you. i have never felt this way. i think i am scared to express whatever this is.”

neteyam’s gaze softened with understanding, leaning down to rest his chin atop your head. he embraced you tightly—to which you were quick to do the same—and he said against your hair, “i have never felt this way either.”

you pulled away, just enough to properly look at him. “oel ngati kameie, neteyam. oel ngati kameie.”

he did not hesitate to say the phrase back, his fingers splaying across the small of your back. “i see you, my love.”

neteyam let the words hang in the air, their weighted meaning bringing heaviness to your heart. and it was at this moment, as you both stood facing each other, skin against skin, that you deemed the entire sully family to be a gift from eywa herself—it had never been so clear to you than it was now.

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buckybabesonly · 1 year

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Heart of Glass

Summary: You hate it when Bucky is mad, but it's a thousand times worse when you're the one he's mad at.

Pairing: Bucky x female!Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Insecure reader, self-deprecation, self-harm (?)

A/N: I love stories like these so thought I'd take a stab at it. Please do leave feedback, they are always encouraging!

Length: 4.8k

It had taken Bucky a long time to open up to you. His journey of being able to face what he had done as the Winter Soldier was long and arduous, and still ongoing. He had vivid nightmares, ones which alleviated in frequency over the course of the last few years, but which still sometimes made an unwelcome appearance.

His own healing was a work in progress, so it was no surprise that it was still a struggle for him to divulge certain aspects to you. He found it difficult letting himself be vulnerable, even around people he trusted, and insight into his past had been offered to you in scattered pieces.

You had been patient, although you wished that Bucky would feel comfortable revealing more. You never judged him, and you just wanted to help and do your part in the recovery process, if you could. It was much worse hearing the exacerbated, hateful stories of the Winter Soldier from other people’s mouths - the Internet was a horrid place, and whilst there were still a lot of people who supported Bucky Barnes and the Avengers in general, there were just as many people who would not forgive him for being the Winter Soldier.

You knew that you shouldn’t have done what you did. You and Bucky had been together for just over a year, friends for three times that long. It hadn’t all been flowers and rainbows - it had been a tumultuous relationship and you had had your ups and downs, but at the end of the day, you knew you had found your person. You were both learning and growing together, navigating the tougher obstacles in your relationship with enthusiasm. You had finally found someone you were truly madly in love with, and you felt so lucky.

It wasn’t easy, working for S.H.I.E.L.D as an agent which was a demanding career in itself, and dating someone who was almost in constant danger and carrying out often life-threatening missions. But you made it work. Getting to love Bucky and have him love you back was worth anything, and you loved being able to see him smile and, what’s more, being his reason to smile.

On the same token, you hated seeing him unhappy. It was the most devastating feeling in the world, in times when he was disappointed in himself, or when he had woken up from a particularly bad nightmare, or after one of his mandated therapy sessions.

The worst thing was seeing him mad. And it’s a thousand times worse when you’re the one he’s mad at.

You knew that you shouldn’t have done it. You felt guilty as you passed your colleagues desk and your eyes naturally flickered to a familiar name in recognition. BARNES, JAMES BUCHANAN.

You frowned slightly, realizing that his file was on a pile alongside a couple of other familiar names. It wasn’t unusual for another agent to have his file out, particularly if he was looking into specific incidents that Bucky may have been involved in the past, but you had never actually seen it in front of you before.

Of course, it would have been easy for you to find the file and look for yourself. Everything had electronic copies these days, or you could have grabbed the physical copies from the archive. But you had never done it, as it just didn’t feel right. Reading up on your boyfriend’s past like his life was a history book.

Still, despite yourself, you paused. You found your hand reaching out and you took a deep breath of momentary hesitation before you flicked open the file.

An assortment of photos and documents were stacked neatly inside. You couldn’t help it as you found your eyes consuming the information, flicking from page to page. The guilt was building in your gut the longer you spent, standing slightly crouched over the desk, consuming the information with an uncomfortable lump in your throat.

You wanted to cry. You felt your hate for HYDRA increase ten-fold, thinking about all the pain they inflicted on Bucky to manipulate him into their own personal killing machine, thinking about how they had simply made him hurt all those people. Bucky often had the most stoic, cool exterior, but you knew inside he was just your soft, gentle boyfriend. The most beautiful man you knew had been forced to be an assassin against his will.

And now he had to live with the consequences. It’s so unfair, you thought as tears of anger pricked your eyes. You were a very empathetic person, especially when it came to him, and you found yourself feeling quietly furious.

You slammed the file shut, conflicted emotions making you feel both angry and guilty. You always had an idea of what HYDRA had made Bucky do, of course, but actually consuming the detail within his file had made it come to life in your mind. All you wanted during the course of your time with Bucky was to get a better view from his shoes, if only to help you relate a bit more to his suffering. You loved him so much and you wanted nothing more than to help him.

At the same time, you knew it wasn’t right, snooping like this. You always told yourself to just wait, and eventually Bucky would trust you enough to share everything.

You started to wonder if you had done something wrong as you slowly walked away from the desk, nibbling your bottom lip. You cleared your throat uncomfortably, frowning as the contents of the file plagued your mind. You decided you would have to come clean to Bucky about this.

“What?” Bucky said quietly, cocking his head to the side as if he really had genuinely misheard you. However, as you studied the look in his eyes, you knew that he had heard every word.

“I know it was wrong. Bucky, I’m - “

“If you knew it was wrong, then why did you do it?” Bucky interrupted, his eyebrows drawing together as he frowned. Anger was starting to distort his face, and he kept his voice quiet and low.

You were mute for a long minute, your cheeks flushing as he stared at you, waiting for you to speak. You were both stood in your bedroom, you with your back against the window and his against the door. The distance between you felt painful.

“Do you know what a violation of my privacy that is?” he continued when you didn’t speak, his jaw twitching.

“I was just trying to - just trying to understand,” you said, trying to find the right words. “I just thought that if I knew what they did to you, then I could help you.”

“How would you be able to help?” Bucky was furious, but in that quiet, almost calm way that frightened you the most. His brow was slightly furrowed, corners of lips turned down into a frown, but the biggest giveaway was his clenched fists. They were shaking almost impercetibly.

It was scarier when he didn’t raise his voice, and your fingers twitched uncomfortably by your sides, wanting to reach out to him.

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “I thought that if I could understand what happened, then maybe I could help with your nightmares, help talk to you about the past.”

Bucky exhaled loudly, shaking his head. “Are you my therapist? What were you hoping to do, read my entire past and diagnose me?” He regarded you with a look of bewilderment and fury.

“No, I - “

“No, listen,” Bucky said, frustration rising in his throat, breaking his barely composed facade. “Do you have any idea how messed up that is? There’s a reason why I didn’t tell you everything at my own pace, and you went behind my back and fucking investigated me? How do you think that makes me feel? You couldn’t even respect me enough to let me tell you out of my own choice!”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You knew you had fucked up majorly. He was glaring at you, waiting for you to say something.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. I really didn’t have any bad intentions, I just - “

“It doesn’t matter,” Bucky spat out. “It doesn’t matter that you didn’t have any bad intentions. You think I’m proud of what I did as the fucking Winter Soldier? It haunts me, and I have to live with him for the rest of my fucking life. I - I trusted you, and you betrayed it.”

I let out a slight whimper at his words, knowing the venomous words he was spitting out was completely true.

“I have to fight so hard, every day, not to fall apart with the knowledge and memories of what the Winter Soldier did, what I did.”

“Bucky, please,” you said, taking a step forward, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have done that, I am so, so sorry.”

Bucky shook his head, moving away from me and lifting his hands as a warning. “Don’t. Just - don’t.”

He turned his back, making to leave.

“Can we just talk about this?” you asked desperately, not wanting him to go. You were terrified that he wouldn’t come back.

“I need some space,” Bucky said sharply without turning to look back at you. He left and pulled the door shut with such force that you jumped, tears finally escaping.

You had no idea how you were going to fix this.

Bucky and you had one rule. Never go to bed angry at each other.

It was a rule you had instigated. You hated going to bed whilst you were in the throes of a fight, and the first time you had argued - something petty, really - you had pouted at Bucky and demanded that you make up.

He was relieved at that time as it was such a silly fight and he was anxious that you would give him the silent treatment. But he laughed as you jumped into his arms, kissing his cheek and letting him know all was forgiven.

“New rule - we can’t go to bed angry at each other,” you had announced at the time.

“Yes, my liege,” Bucky had responded.

Bucky wasn’t answering your calls or texts. You left 15 voicemails and 24 text messages, all apologizing and asking him to talk. You knew you should give him space, as it was only fair for him to digest what had happened and process, but you felt like you couldn’t function.

You wanted him by your side so you could apologize over and over again and tell him, genuinely, how regretful you were.

There was no excuse. Your face was tear-stained and eyes puffy as you paced your apartment, the clock having struck midnight a long time ago, with no sight of Bucky.

When four AM rolled round, you finally passed out on the couch whilst waiting for him. When your alarm rudely woke you up at seven, you startled and immediately ran into the bedroom, although you knew he wouldn’t be there.

The bed was empty, still made from the previous morning and untouched.

You could cry all over again.

You hurried to get ready nonetheless, and made your way to the Avengers Tower. You were involved in some S.H.I.E.L.D projects that were being hosted there, and you knew it was the place Bucky was most likely to be.

You checked your phone obsessively on the way to the Tower. No calls or messages from Bucky.

You groaned internally. He had never ignored you like this before. The gravity of the situation was slowly growing heavier and heavier - he was your Bucky, the one who always took care of you and worried over you and was by your side almost 24/7 whenever he wasn’t out on a mission, but now he was actively avoiding you.

More and more fear started to creep into the mix alongside the guilt. Would Bucky leave you over this?

When you arrived at the Tower, you expected it to be a lot harder to find him than it was. But he was in the training room, the first place you looked.

“Bucky,” you said quietly as soon as you saw him. He was serving blows mercilessly to a punching bag hung from the ceiling, as if he needed the practice. You knew he was letting off steam. He was dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair hanging over his forehead in sweaty tendrils, his face slightly red.

Bucky barely even flinched. He didn’t acknowledge you at all, eyes never leaving the bag in front of him.

“Can we talk?” you asked tentatively.

No response.

“Bucky, if you don’t reply, I’m just going to start talking at you, and I really don’t want to do that,” you said. All you wanted him to do was at least look at you.

Bucky stopped then and you heaved a sigh of relief. But instead of speaking, he simply wrapped a towel around his shoulders and turned his back on you, leaving out of the door on the other side of the room.

You felt rocks fall to the bottom of your stomach, and the urge to cry reared its ugly head yet again.

Bucky hadn’t spoken to you for two days. He hadn’t returned to your apartment for two days.

You had cried all of those days. You tried to find him and corner him to make him face you, but after that day in the training room, he had really been avoiding you. You had only seen him once in those two days, and he immediately disappeared as soon as he saw you.

It hurt so much. Like someone had stabbed you and, what’s more, was twisting the handle.

You knew you deserved it. You had really hurt Bucky, but part of you was still terrified of what he would do. How long would he wait until he decided to speak to you again? Was he going to break up with you?

You didn’t know how to fix it. You were ashamed to tell Sam, even though you wanted to ask his advice on what to do. You had done something so bad that you didn’t want to face his disappointment, too, although you were certain Bucky may have already told him.

Still, it hurt so bad. All you wanted Bucky to do was hug you and tell you it was alright, instead you were met with indifference and the back of his head. He wouldn’t even look at you.

You would rather he shouted at you, screamed at you, anything to actually make him talk and acknowledge your existence. But he continued to ice you out, and your heart was breaking.

Bucky knew he loved you even before you officially became a couple. He loved how funny you were, how hard working you were, how you always listened to his side of the story, how you took care of him and patiently explained anything to him that he still didn’t quite understand about the modern world.

There were a lot of great women, but to Bucky, you had stood out. From day one, you had cared about him. Little things, like asking about his favorite songs from the 40s, making sure his head was covered with your umbrella when it was raining even though your shoulder was getting wet, ensuring he got three solid meals a day and that his favorite snacks were stored in the pantry.

Bigger things, too, like letting him share the burden of his past with you without ever a word of judgment or disdain, encouraging him to visit his parents’ grave on the anniversary of their death and making the journey with him, sharing memories of Steve whenever Bucky was missing him. You were his rock, and he felt like he had mined the most precious diamond.

He knew he could tell you anything, but his sordid past as the Winter Soldier was still something he was trying to overcome himself. He was ashamed, and part of him was worried that you would suddenly think less of him. See him as the monster that he used to be, the monster that he sometimes saw himself as.

He hated the thought of poisoning your mind with unsavory images of himself and the knowledge of what he had done.

He was so angry to know that you saw his file. But the majority of his feelings came from the fact that he was so laden with guilt. He didn’t want you to know the ugly truth when all you had seen of him so far was the better version of himself that he was trying to be.

How could he forget his past when you knew every disgusting detail now, too? When you had now also seen the faces of all the people he had killed?

At the same time, he believed you when you said you were just trying to help. That was just your nature. He knew that you genuinely thought if you understood, you could offer assistance and ease his silent torment.

But anger prevailed, and he found himself ignoring you for days, even though he felt so immature doing it. He just couldn’t face you right now, even as you stared at him with wide, hopeful eyes. He could barely avoid meeting your gaze and instead chose to turn away completely, as if pretending you weren’t there would alleviate the pain. He was afraid that if he looked at you a little too long, his resolve would shatter.

It was exceptionally poor timing that your birthday rolled around after five days of total radio silence from Bucky. You had forgotten, actually, until you entered the Tower and a fellow agent had wished you a happy birthday.

You gave her a weak smile as you muttered some made up plans about how you would be celebrating.

You wanted to burst out crying when you saw Bucky that morning, in the kitchen at the Tower.

He was leaning against the kitchen island, a smile on his face, a smile you hadn’t seen for almost a week. He was talking to an agent, a decent girl you had worked with before. You liked her, actually, as did a lot of people. He was talking to her about something, looking more relaxed than you had seen him since you had the fight.

He hadn’t noticed you as you observed the two of them. You didn’t think anything flirtatious was going on, but still, it hurt to see him smiling softly at someone else when he hadn’t paid you any attention for so long.

Part of you wasn’t sure if Bucky was going to speak to you today. But it was your birthday, after all - he always made a big deal out of it, asking you what you wanted to do and making sure you got a cake and flowers and all the romantic works. He always told you that you were his greatest gift, and so he couldn’t miss celebrating the day that you were brought into the world.

If he didn’t speak to you today, you think you would be sick.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t realize the agent Bucky was talking to was leaving, and as she walked past you, you felt Bucky’s eyes on you. You met his gaze hesitantly, blinking wordlessly.

He paused, and you could almost see the gears turning in his brain as he decided what to do.

His smile dissipated, and he turned his back on you.

When you returned home that night, you cried your eyes out. You sat on the couch forlornly, staring at the door, half-expecting him to burst through at any moment with an apology and kisses waiting to be pressed onto your lips.

Midnight struck, and you went to bed alone.

Six days.

Bucky had not spoken to you in six days, and honestly, he felt like shit.

He had never been so angry at you before, but he was surprised at himself that his silent streak had lasted so long. To be honest, the time had passed quickly, as he had kept himself as busy as possible.

As Bucky came down from his angry high, the feeling of guilt and sadness overwhelmed him at the thought of you being unhappy. He knew that this period of time would be tough on you, although he stood by his point that you should not have read his file behind his back, especially as you knew how sensitive he was about his past.

And yet, ultimately, he recalled that you only had his best interests at heart, even if you were going about it the wrong way. He sighed as he approached the Tower elevator, stepping inside just as Sam came running down the hallway, shouting at him to hold.

Bucky stabbed the close door button repeatedly, cursing as Sam slid past just in the nick of time, punching him playfully.

“You in a mood, princess?” he snickered, taking note of the dark circles under Bucky’s eyes. “You been up all night with your girl?”

Bucky let out a tsk. He sighed as the elevator descended.

“No. Haven’t spoken to her actually,” he admitted.

“Woah, wait. What do you mean?” Sam asked when he realized Bucky was being serious.

“Had a fight,” Bucky said reluctantly.

Sam frowned lightly. “On her birthday?”

Bucky froze as he opened his mouth to clarify that the fight had began a few days ago. His mind racked to confirm today’s date.

Shit. It was your birthday yesterday.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky said, head lolling back to bash against the glass elevator wall.

“You okay, man?” Sam asked, clearly concerned.

“I messed up,” he sighed in response, pinching the bridge of his nose. God, now he wanted to cry. How could he do this to you? He was already beginning to feel like he’d gone overboard with his reaction as the days passed and the red haze of anger dissolved from his eyes, clouding his better judgment, but now he truly felt like he had gone about everything so wrongly.

You had always gone on about the importance of communication in a relationship, and how you both needed to work together to overcome any challenges, and that one of the things you valued the most was being open and honest.

He imagined you sat alone at home, on your birthday, waiting expectantly for him to turn up.

His chest hurt.

You lay down in bed as the sun set, darkness filling the room.

You had the covers over your head as the tears wet your pillow, your head hurting so much from all the crying and dehydration.

Your world was truly coming down around you. You were about to lose the best thing that had ever happened to you. Bucky was going to leave you, and it was your fault. The past few days had really unveiled your most deep rooted fear, that the love of your life was going to abandon you.

“You’re so stupid,” you whispered to yourself. “So stupid. So fucking stupid.”

You ignored the incessant buzzing of your phone. Your friends had been calling you since your birthday yesterday, concerned that you hadn’t picked up even once. You didn’t care. If Bucky wasn’t here, then you just wanted to be alone.

You always knew you weren’t good enough for him. Always knew that he would leave you eventually. Out of all the people in the world, what on earth would make him choose you?

You threw the covers off of you as a new surge of rage overwhelmed you.

“You are so fucking stupid!” you screamed out loud, letting the anger seep through your body, expel through your lungs. You stormed over to your mirror and punched the glass once, twice, until it cracked and sliced your knuckles, blood trickling immediately over your hand.

Bucky was going to leave you.

Your knees buckled and you collapsed onto the floor, head hanging as tears dripped down onto the carpet.

“So stupid,” you continued in a whisper. “So useless, so stupid, so -”

“What the fuck are you doing?” came a loud voice, and your head snapped up with such speed that your head spun.

Bucky was standing in the open doorway, expression aghast as he took in the sight of you. Red, swollen eyes, bleeding hand, sitting in front of the broken mirror.

“Bucky,” you said weakly, voice trembling. He had come back to break up with you.

You always knew he would do it eventually. Your relationship was too good to be true.

“Oh my god,” Bucky hissed as he darted forward, moving down on his knees to join you and gently lifting your wounded hand. “What have you done?”

You started to cry again, feeling so pathetic. Bucky shook his head, eyes frantic.

“No, no, no, doll, please don’t cry,” he said, his voice softening.

“I’m sorry,” you garbled, voice thick with guilt. “I know I fucked up, I know. I’m so sorry Bucky. Please don’t leave me.”

The desperation in your voice broke Bucky’s heart. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you as tight as he could without hurting you, pressing his lips against the top of your head.

“Listen to me. I’m not going to leave you,” he said firmly. He pulled back and studied your face carefully, trying to keep his voice steady for your sake. “I need to patch you up, okay?”

You sniffled, nodding once before he stood up and disappeared into the bathroom. He reappeared with a first aid kit, kneeling down once more and inspecting your hand.

“Why did you do that, doll?” he murmured, a pained look in his eyes as he began to clean you up. It wasn’t a serious injury, just a scratch compared to some of the other battle wounds you had received in the past, but the idea that you had done that to yourself made Bucky so sad.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again. “I’m just - I don’t know. I’m so angry at myself. Please will you forgive me? For everything?”

Bucky’s eyes welled up as he paused with his tending to your hand, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying. You were the most important person in the world to him and he had been pushing you away, had completely forgotten your birthday, and you had hurt yourself because of him when all you wanted was to help him.

“I forgive you,” he whispered, kissing your forehead tenderly. “Will you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive you for,” you insisted as he resumed cleaning your wound. You could see his eyes were wet, and you were nonplussed at why that would be.

“Yes, there is,” Bucky said, wearing a look of shame that you didn’t understand. “I know that your heart is always in the right place. Instead of talking to you about it, I just shut you out. No matter how angry I was, I shouldn’t have done that. I hurt you.”

He worked quickly, bandaging your hand and slowly holding your wrist after. His solemn blue eyes finally met yours.

“I love you so much. I should have stayed to talk, but I just… left. I shouldn't have done that.” He took a deep breath. “I walked away because I couldn’t stand the thought of you knowing everything. Knowing all the people I’ve killed - some of them innocent people. Read about how cold I was, the - the complete lack of mercy I showed. I am a monster.”

“Bucky,” you whispered, lifting your good hand to tenderly touch his face. You were hesitant, as if you were afraid he would withdraw from your touch. Instead, he leaned against your palm, eyes closed. He turned to press a kiss into your hand.

“I thought - “ you began, taking a deep breath at the insecurity and uncertainty that still plagued you. “I thought you were going to break up with me.”

Bucky’s eyes opened to stare at you forlornly, as if hurt that you would even have this thought.

“Never,” he said firmly. “You have no idea how much I have missed you.”

You launched yourself into his arms then, willing Bucky’s strong arms to encircle you. He did just that, holding you close as you sobbed quietly into his shoulder.

“Let me make it up to you, okay?” Bucky murmured. “Belated birthday celebration.”

“It’s enough that you’re here,” you whispered.

You still had a lot to talk about, but you felt so much better now that Bucky was standing by your side again. Maybe everything was going to be alright.

#bucky fic #bucky x female reader #bucky angst #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky one shot #bucky angst one shot #bucky x you fight

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hyuckiefluff · 11 months

Text

Pretty Boy

pairing: na jaemin x f!reader genre: roommates to lovers wc : 1.2k + summary: you are determined to convince your roommate to let you put mascara on his pretty eyelashes but things escalate when playful touches become more intimate. a/n: this is a short story that i wrote in like an hour sorry if it’s kind of all over the place lol. it has an open ending so possible part 2 if it doesn’t flop?? tysm for reading <33

part 2

"Jaemin, come here!!" you followed him out of the room as he escaped.

"Nope! Not a chance!" Jaemin retorted.

"C'mon, you're being so dramatic,"

"I'm not the one trying to poke your eyeballs with a strange object," he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he walked away, keeping a safe distance from you.

"Please, it's just mascara. I'm trying to see how it looks on you," you said, practically sprinting after him across the shared department.

"When I agreed to room with you, I didn't know I was signing up to become your little experiment," he grumbled, effortlessly leaping over the couch and assuming a defensive stance. "Why do you even want to put mascara on me?"

"Like I said, you're being dramatic. And you have the prettiest eyelashes I've ever seen, so I must see what they look like all done,"

He rolled his eyes, having had this conversation with you before. You had always pointed out the unfairness of him having such long lashes but never doing anything to them.

"I'm not letting you come close to my eyes with that thing," he firmly stated, causing you to let out a sigh of frustration.

“Wait, what’s that behind you?” While you didn't expect him to actually fall for it, he momentarily looked over his shoulder, and in that split second, you swiftly jumped over the couch, landing right on top of him with a victorious war cry.

"C'mooon," he protested, but his hands instinctively found their place on your hips, keeping you in place.

"I'm just going to apply a little bit," you said innocently, moving closer to his face. He remained silent, which caught you off guard, considering how vehemently he had opposed the idea just moments ago.

His gaze was fixed on you, and you took it as an opportunity to concentrate on your task. You were so focused on not accidentally poking his eyes that you failed to notice what his hands were doing. He started slowly caressing your hips, it seemed like he was doing it unconsciously at first but then he started gently pinching and groping and it was getting harder for you to keep your hand steady.

"Does it usually take you this long to do this?" he asked, looking upwards as you worked the mascara brush on his lashes.

"Well, excuse me, but you're distracting me," you responded, pausing for a moment to give him an accusing look. When he met your gaze, you almost dropped the brush because of how absurdly beautiful he looked. His eyes appeared larger, framed by the now even longer and darker lashes. Despite his frown and occasional uncomfortable blinking, he looked mesmerizing.

You brought the back of your hand to your mouth, trying to hide the smile threatening to escape. However, he caught your gesture and gently took your hand, placing a kiss on it. "What are you smiling at? Do I look that ridiculous?" he asked, his voice lowering in tone.

"No," you replied, your voice slightly faltering. "You look good." If he hadn't already sensed your flustered state from the way your voice trembled, he certainly did when you flinched in response to his hands grabbing your thighs and pulling you down closer to him.

"Really? Show me then," he said, his gaze fixed on you. For a moment, you were confused, dazed by the way he was looking at you. Then it clicked, and you understood what he meant. Without hesitation, you pulled out your phone to take a picture of him.

As you captured the shot, you couldn't help but bite your lip at how intimate it looked. He was looking up at you through his eyelashes, a slight smile playing on his lips. The image clearly showed the fact that you were straddling him, his hands resting on your thighs. You knew you'd have to delete this picture after showing him because your best friends were notoriously nosy, and the last thing you wanted was for them to stumble upon a photo of you practically riding your roommate.

"Are you gonna show me or..." his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you cleared your throat, handing him the phone. You would have gotten off his lap by now if it weren't for his hand still holding you firmly in place.

"Mhmm..." he hummed approvingly as he looked at the picture. "I like it. I'm sending it to myself."

"What? No, no," you panicked, attempting to grab your phone, but he held it out of reach, lifting it over his head. Retrieving it would mean getting even closer to him. Instead, you gave him a death stare and an expression that clearly said, 'Seriously dude?'

"If you like it so much, I can just take another one of just you," you pleaded.

"But I like this one because you're in it too," he responded, raising an eyebrow.

Your stomach dropped, and before you could form a coherent response, Jaemin propped himself up on his elbows, your phone abandoned somewhere behind him. His face was now incredibly close to yours, his minty breath filling the space between you. You couldn't move away, and if you're honest with yourself, you wouldn't even if you could. After two years of being roommates with Jaemin, you had grown used to him being clingy and affectionate, and while you had found yourself on his lap on previous occasions, it had never escalated to this level of intensity.

Unconsciously, you bit your lip, a nervous habit of yours, catching Jaemin's attention. He lifted his hand and gently caressed your bottom lip with his thumb, causing you to cease the biting. Now his focus was entirely on your lips, and perhaps it was your imagination, but he seemed to be getting closer. "Don't bite these pretty lips; you'll roughen them up," he whispered in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Sorry..." you murmured instinctively, your voice sounding small and vulnerable. It was a clear indication that he was flustering you.

There were so many alarms going off in your head, warning you of the dangerous territory you were about to venture into. If you were smart, you would heed those warnings and run away.

"Okay, well, I'm done here, so..." you began to say, your voice trailing off.

"Are you? But there's a space here that needs taking care of," he pointed towards his eye, and as you leaned closer, you struggled to see anything out of the ordinary.

"What? Whe-" Your words were abruptly swallowed by his lips as they pressed against yours, catching you completely off guard. A whimper escaped your lips, met with a low grunt from him, as he skillfully moved his lips against yours. His hands found their way up from your hips to your waist, exploring the exposed skin revealed by your riding-up shirt. The kiss started off gentle but quickly escalated, his lips and hands working their way up your body. It was you who deepened the kiss, prodding him with your tongue, silently asking for entry. He sighed contently, granting you access, and the kiss grew wetter and more intense as your tongues danced together. His hips began to buck up, creating a delicious friction between your cores, eliciting moans from both of you.

There was no turning back now. You were well aware of it, and Jaemin seemed to understand too, as he pulled away from the kiss, suggesting, "Maybe we should move to the bed."

The implications made your lower stomach churn with a mix of excitement and nervousness, but you nodded, a smile playing on your lips.

"Let's go, pretty boy," you said teasingly, before darting away, Jaemin hot on your heels, eagerly chasing after you.

part 2

feedback is greatly appreciated! <3

#jaemin moodboard #nct #nct dream #na jaemin #nct x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream x reader #jaemin fic #jaemin fanfic #jaemin drabbles #jaemin imagine #nct dream fic #nct dream scenario #jaemin x you #jaemin x y/n

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clockwayswrites · 3 months

Text

Not So Imaginary

Parts 1-3 Parts 4-6Parts 7-8 WC: 1177

“I brought you some more books to read,” Jason said as he entered the room.

After Danny had shown that they were clearly a person (a kid at that) and answered a few questions, they had been moved to an actual room on the Watchtower. Jason was pretty sure part of it was how he refused to leave the cell until Danny was moved, but he didn’t really care as long as it got his friend safe.

Danny looked up with a grin. They were pretty solid today, sitting cross-leg on the bed with feet and everything.

“You’re back,” the artificial voice spoke out from the tablet like device in Danny’s hands. It was a version of something called a SGD, Bruce had said, and was used by people who had trouble with verbal sounds. They didn’t know if Danny would always need it or if they’re vocal cords would come back as they continued to solidify.

“I am. B said I could stay a whole three hours today too as long as I ate a snack while I was here,” Jason said, holding up one of the bags he had.

Three hours still wasn’t a lot, but it was better than the one it had been the rest of the week. It took a lot of begging, but B finally agreed that Jason was well enough for a test to see how it went. Danny was still draining life force from Jason, and only Jason, which made certain Leaguers nervous about letting the two of them close. Jason had done everything he could to let it happen: he’d begged and argued, he’d eating everything Alfie wanted him to, he rested whenever Bruce wanted him too which was all the time, and he even agreed to stay benched for as long as it took.

That last one had really helped convince Bruce and Dick that Jason wouldn’t back down from helping his friend.

“Good. I am happy. What do you have?”

“You liked the Hardy Boys, right? I have a few more of those and I found you some science mags you might like,” Jason said as he flopped onto the bed next to Danny. He could feel the odd tingle travel up his arm as he leaned into Danny.

“Thank you,” Danny said with a wide smile. The tone of the electronic voice didn’t match the brightness of that smile, but it was alright. Jason could also feel how happy Danny was.

“You’re doing okay?”

“Yes.” There was a long pause as Danny found the right words. They were pretty quick already with preset phrases, but odder things still took longer than regular talking would. “WW took me to observation deck. We watched stars. She told me stories of stars from her home.”

“Yeah?” Jason asked, trying to keep his voice from hitching around the word. He couldn’t bug Danny with that yet. “You like her? Wonder Woman?”

“Yes.” The reply was quick, but Danny was watching Jason with furrowed brows. They pushed a sense of question through their bond.

“I’m fine. Just thinking through some shit,” Jason said with a wave of his hand. “But Wonder Woman is really cool. She’s my favorite too.”

Danny set the tablet aside so that they could run their fingers through Jason’s hair. It felt odd, what with not all of the fingers always being all of the way solid, but a good sort of odd. It seems Jason couldn’t just Danny’s concern aside.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?”

Danny let out what for anyone else would have been a sigh and gave a little nod. They shorted through the bag of books Jason had brought and found a Hardy Boy’s to hand over to Jason.

“What me to read to you?” Jason waited for the nod. Apparently it was really important to let Danny choose things right then, or so the adults said. “Okay, move over a bit, yeah? You’re hogging all the bed.”

Danny placed their hand to their chest, face screwing up in an affronted expression. It didn’t work though when Jason could feel the amusement through their bond.

“Yeah yeah, I’m a brute, now shove over,” Jason said with a laugh. He worked his way up until he was lounging against the head of the bed.

Danny didn’t move.

“You’re a brat,” Jason accused.

Danny gave a silent laugh, humor bumbling up in their bond, before they flopped over right onto Jason’s chest. Jason let a huff of a sigh, but ran his fingers through Danny’s hair like he knew they liked before he opened the book to start read about another adventure of the Hardy Boys.

It was easier to feel the drain like this, when they were so close to each other and touching. Jason had tried to avoid spelling that out too much to Bruce. He got that his dad was just worried, but he was afraid if B knew he’d tried to keep Danny away.

As it was Bruce was trying to send Danny away.

Jason brushed the thought aside, focusing on doing his best to give the characters good voices for Danny. At least it was a distraction from all the rest of Jason’s thoughts. Two chapters later the stopped to ask, “Want a break or do you want another chapter?”

Danny rolled over and off Jason’s chest to flop onto the pillow next to him and Jason froze. His shock must have been clear because Danny scrambled up off the bed until they were floating above Jason.

“No! It’s a good thing. Just… you’re getting some of your color back,” Jason explained. He should really stop staring. He should take Danny to a mirror to see or something, but it was just that… Danny was beautiful right then. He found himself reaching up to brush his finger tips of the bright freckles that were scattered across Danny’s cheeks and nose like a galaxy of stars.

Bright teal eyes blinked back at him.

Jason cleared his throat. “Right, sorry, let’s go let you look.”

Danny floated to the side, landing on their feet as Jason stood, and followed behind behind to the small attached bathroom. Jason guided Danny in front of the mirror. White was spreading into their hair now.

For a moment Jason was worried that Danny was frozen in shock, then the other leaned in close to the mirror, touching the surface before bringing their hand up to their own face. Suddenly Danny was moving, spinning weightlessly around Jason as they gave a soundless whoop.

“I know,” Jason said with a grin of his own. “Look at you! You’re really coming together now! I knew you could do it. I knew that you could come back.”

Slowly, Danny drifted back down so that the tips of their toes brushed against the floor. They rested their forehead against Jason’s.

He didn’t need words to understand what Danny was trying to say.

“Don’t have to thank me, stardust. I’ll always come for you just like you’ll always come for me.”

--- AN: Oh ho, is Jason starting to realize he has a crush? And what isn't he telling Danny? Hopefully this part is good, the weather is giving me such a migraine/making me super dizzy so my eyes are crossing some! (Yes, I'm resting, on the couch with a cat!)

I really should have made an update post for this... this supposed ficlet just keeps going! 7K now! Aaaah well. Anywho, stay delightful, darlings!

#dp x dc #dead on main #not so imaginary

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theemporium · 1 month

Note

Pretty please a mai tai! With Quinn Hughes and promt 35 💛

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

35. kissing their bruises and scars

“It looks worse than it feels.”

The words were out of his mouth the second you opened the door, like he knew very well the thoughts racing through your head. And yet, despite them, it did little to actually diminish any of the worries you had since you watched the hit.

It was a dirty hit. It was dirty and unnecessary and when Quinn took a little too long to stand back up, your heart felt like it was seconds away from exploding out of your chest. You don’t think your heart rate had returned to normal since.

It didn't help that you weren’t there.

Instead, you were forced to watch the whole thing from your living room couch, endless replays looped on the huge screen with very little information on his state or well-being shared. You had sent a handful of messages to his phone on the off chance he would have it by him, but you knew it was likely tucked at the bottom of his backpack (where it would stay until he was ready to leave the rink).

And Quinn didn’t usually visit after late games. He tried not to, especially if they had gone on longer than expected. He never had a valid reason to, not when you were stuck in that weird stage of more than friends but not quite together. He couldn’t handle the possibility that you would reject him if he showed up (as if you ever would).

But he knew you would be worried. He had seen the messages. He knew he had to see you, if only for you to see that he was fine and he would be okay, despite being a little roughed up.

“Don’t lie to me,” you replied, your brows still furrowed in concern as you opened the door wider to let him in.

“I’m not,” Quinn retorted far too quickly.

“I can see you wincing.”

He fell quiet after that.

Little words were shared between the two of you as you made your way to your bedroom. It was late and Quinn was undoubtedly tired and, truthfully, the two of you had far bigger problems to worry about than sharing a bed. It wasn’t the first time it had happened. It probably wouldn’t be the last either. And, in your one bedroom apartment, there wasn’t much choice other than one of you taking the couch, which was never going to happen.

You fit together seamlessly, working seamlessly around each other as you crawled into bed. The only light in the room was the small lamp on the nightstand. And a part of you knew you should lean over, switch it off and let Quinn get the rest he needed.

But you couldn’t shake it off. You couldn’t close your eyes without seeing the hit replay in your head.

“Can I see it?”

Quinn blinked, a little unsure if he had imagined you speaking or not. But then he turned his head and found you propped up on an elbow, looking down at him with an expression much heavier than he liked seeing on you. And there was nothing in this world you could have asked him in that moment that he would deny you.

A few beats passed as he reached for the hem of his shirt, slowly dragging the fabric up until his torso was completely exposed to you in the soft light of the bedside lamp. It was the start of something ugly, taking up a good portion of his side. It was hard to see clearly but the dull yellow and purples spread across his fair skin showed the makings of a large bruise that would stain his body for a while, that would make him a little more aware of each breath, each movement, each hit on the ice.

The silence stretched out as you slowly raised your hand, hesitating for a few moments before your fingers began to lightly trace over the forming bruise. It didn’t hurt, your touch was far too light to cause any damage. But it didn’t stop his breath from hitching.

“You scared me out there,” you whispered, too scared to speak any louder and ruin the moment.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled back in response, watching your expression closely.

There was another pause, another stretch of silence before you moved away. Quinn couldn’t tear his eyes off you as you leaned down, your warm breath fanning across his skin before you pressed a chaste kiss to his bruise.

It lasted no longer than two seconds but it still made his chest tighten at the softness of it all. And then you placed another one a few inches above the last. And continued to do so until most of his side had been kissed gently by your lips.

“M’sure that’ll make it all better in the morning,” he rasped, his voice thick with an emotion he wasn’t ready to reveal yet. Not this late into the night, at least.

“I’ll keep it up until you’re all healed then,” you whispered to him, the implication lying between you both like a comforting blanket.

His lips twitched. “I’d like that.”

Your smile mimicked his. “Good.”

And it wasn’t the right time to acknowledge it, to call out the tension and the feelings and everything in between. But it was coming and you both knew it was inevitable. And maybe that made it easier to fall asleep with little else to say.

Or maybe it was the fact you were curled up on his good side, his arm wrapped protectively around you and the press of your bodies together lulling the two of you to sleep with unexpected but heartwarming ease.

#cece's cocktail celebration #quinn hughes #nhl #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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delirious-donna · 1 month

Text

The Duality of Men [Part Five]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: Being cooped up all day with Kento isn't as easy as it sounds. Time to tempt the stick in the mud out for a drink. What could go wrong?

pairings: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: suggestive, mentions of previous masturbation, humour, two idiots pining, mentions of alcohol, toxic male behaviour (not Kento), misunderstandings, white knight Kento, also very oblivious Kento

Part Four | Series Masterlist | Part Six

The morning dawned–bright and fresh. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the events of the previous evening almost felt like some lucid dream rather than reality. Only the dull ache that remained between your thighs served as a reminder of your toying fingers. Whilst you might have found release, it was temporary at best, and the encounter with Kento in the kitchen had only served to rekindle your desire for the man who was quickly becoming less of a stranger to you.

In an attempt to occupy your mind, turning it onto more pressing matters other than the slew of questions about the stoic male—his interests, occupation, and preferences in a far more intimate manner—you decided that focusing on schoolwork would be for the best.

That was how you came to find yourself seated in one of the two tall chairs that lined one side of the kitchen island, your coursework spread out in a sea of paper and textbooks. It was an organised mess, or so you would say, others might disagree, but it worked for you and that was all that mattered. Or it might have been had it not been for the appearance of your host.

Kento shuffled into the kitchen, his hair dishevelled from sleep and yawning widely. A glance at the clock told you it was an early start to the day for someone who was meant to be on vacation. He reached his arms overhead into a delicious looking stretch, and paused when his eyes blinked open to spy you fully dressed with a pen between your teeth.

“Morning,” he offered once he too glanced at the clock with a slight squint. It made you wonder if he needed glasses and if so, why didn’t he wear them? His voice was gruff, laden with sleep, and you did your best not to squirm at the effect it caused in your stomach. “You’re awake early, no?”

“I could say the same to you. Didn’t you say you were on mandated vacation? Oh, and good morning. There is coffee in the pot if you’d like some?” You added, leaning your cheek onto your fist whilst you admired him, emboldened by the knowledge he wasn’t awake enough to notice.

He grunted in response. Deliberately not looking whilst you smacked your pen against your pursed lips, and instead made a beeline to the source of caffeine that had roused him from his slumber in the first place. He admired your dedication at being awake to study so early. The question of what you were studying tickled the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. The more he knew, the harder it would be to keep his distance as he had vowed to himself.

Lazing in bed wasn’t on his agenda, it would be a waste of time when he could be reading or getting in a morning run on the treadmill. Perhaps in another life, he would have savoured the idea of remaining nestled within warm sheets, the morning sun streaming across the rumpled bed from the gap in the curtains, and… He paused, knowing that his mind was conjuring another body beside him, one that was across the room from him.

A distraction was what he needed.

“You study like… this?” Kento asked, nose wrinkled in distaste.

The pen in your hand was no longer gently patting at your lips, it was smacking hard against the marble counter edge and his eyebrow quirked at your clear irritation. He fought the smile that tried to rise, wisely hiding it behind his mug whilst he took another long sip.

“It… makes sense to me.” Your eyes narrowed, shifting your hips forward on the chair to lean over the counter, pen wagging in admonishment.

Kento held up his unoccupied hand in surrender, not wishing to cause you any further annoyance and longing for a slice of solitude that he wasn’t going to find in here. “Let me get out of your hair, I wouldn’t wish to distract you from your studies.”

You scowled after him, annoyed at yourself for finding that you were fixated on the dips at his lower back and the way his muscles shifted and bunched as he moved away and out of sight. It was far worse in the clear morning light; you could no longer fool yourself into believing that the broad expanse of his shoulders and the strength of his torso was simply a trick of the low lighting. It was simply him, and you rested your head on your folded arms while you processed that nugget of information.

The rest of the morning was spent in some semblance of peaceful cohabitation. Kento contented himself with running in his home gym, earbuds in place and you wondered what kind of music he enjoyed on your trip to the bathroom, peeking inside only for a moment before darting away, scared to be caught.

It wasn’t until lunchtime approached that he reemerged into the living room, fully dressed in a cream sweater and navy trousers.

By this point, you were curled up into the far corner of the couch with a book in hand. Whilst peeking over the top, you watched as he manoeuvred around the kitchen to make lunch. You must have read the same passage at least a dozen times and still, the words wouldn’t sink in. It wasn’t until he turned to eat, that he froze–plate in hand.

Of course, your coursework was still splayed out and possibly looking even more disorderly than before if that was at all possible. You waited, counting internally for the snarky comment, but as you reached fifteen… you glanced at him again.

“Are you really standing over the sink to eat?”

“I’m sure you have a suggestion as to what I should do instead,” he sighed in resignation with the plate balanced on his palm and half his sandwich clutched in his other hand.

“You could, y’know, sit on the couch like a normal person,” you chided with a roll of your eyes. “Or are you that afraid of crumbs that you’d rather stand over there?”

If truth be told, he did despise crumbs and unnecessary dirt. However, he wasn’t about to get into it with you about something you’d find trivial and likely tease him over. As if accepting your challenge, he marched stiffly to the other end of the couch from you and rested his plate precariously on his knees to finish his sandwich. His forehead wrinkled into a scowl, and you fought the urge to tell him to ease up or he’d prematurely wrinkle his face. Something told you he wouldn’t take too kindly to such an accusation.

Unfortunately, the calm of the morning didn’t last into the afternoon. For such a spacious apartment it felt awfully cramped when the two of you tried to focus on your individual interests. It was like walking on eggshells and your nerves were on a razor's edge for no good reason. More often than not you found yourself studying the uptight man rather than reviewing your seminar notes.

Nanami prowled from room to room like a caged predator, one that was not accustomed to enforced captivity and was losing its sanity with each continued tick of the kitchen clock. You were certain he had sat on every part of the couch, first seemingly engrossed in the newspaper delivered to his door but it didn’t last. Before you knew it he was back on his feet and standing at the panoramic window with both hands clasped behind his back.

He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, ignoring the beautiful sight of the late afternoon sun turning dark and fiery across the city. It would have been what you studied in his position but no, Kento watched the hundreds of commuters down on the streets. Was he… envious?

It appeared that way and he only strengthened the idea when he huffed, leaving a cloud of breath against the clean glass and turned on his heel to retrieve his discarded newspaper. The crisp pages snapped apart harshly under his grip and you nearly laughed at what you could only describe as rage reading.

You rolled your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time and threw down your pen in defeat. After stretching your arms overhead and rotating your stiff wrists, you gathered your courage and rounded on the man who couldn’t settle into anything remotely relaxing.

“Wanna go grab a drink?”

Kento paused on the sentence he had already read ten times over. Was he hearing you correctly? “Pardon?”

Hopping down from the stool you’d sat at for most of the day, you approached slowly and shrugged. “It’s been a long day and I think we could both use a drink to relax us a bit.”

Why would you need to relax? He was the one wound tighter than a spring-loaded toy but he couldn’t even blame you, not rationally anyway. You’d spent the day studying diligently, only breaking to stretch your limbs, refill your water bottle or read your book. A book he was unfamiliar with, squirrelling away the title and author to look up later.

After his morning run and shower, the day had slipped through his fingers like grains of sand. No matter how tightly he tried to cling to them, the minuscule grains escaped through the cracks until the hours were lost and he felt a sick sensation in his stomach. He tried not to consider the accounts he could have handled had he been in the office, or the clients he could have snared if he’d been permitted to admit the conference as planned. It wasn’t worth the turmoil it caused.

“I have a well-stocked liquor cabinet and there is wine in the fridge if it’s a drink you’d like,” he offered, moving closer to you and ignoring the desire to splay his hand at the small of your back to guide you towards his prized collection.

You shuffled your feet looking decidedly more nervous. His head cocked in curiosity, noting your habit to chew on your lips. He bet they tasted sweet.

“Kento… can we get out of the apartment? I bet there are a few nice bars around here, and well… c’mon, I don’t want to go alone.”

He may as well have sighed at the sound of his name on your lips for the second time. You might not know it, but he would have agreed to just about anything at that moment. For that reason alone, he found himself perched on a bar stool in a noisy but thankfully well-lit bar a few streets away from the apartment complex.

Your face was a picture of excitement, and he laughed discreetly whilst you leant on the bar waiting for the bartender to notice and take your order. Kento did his best not to appreciate how your light blue jeans hugged your backside, averting his eyes to admire the décor instead. He scolded his rapidly diminishing restraint, feeling more like a hormonal young man than he did when he was a hormonal young man.

“Vodka cranberry please, light on the ice. What would you like, Kento? It’s my treat.”

Oh hell no. He wasn’t about to let a student pay for his drink, no matter the circumstances. Meeting the eye of the young man behind the counter, he bristled at the amusement that was evident in his expression.

“Laphroaig, neat. Make it a double, please,” he rattled off whilst fishing his card from the wallet in his back pocket. At his side, you were beginning to protest, tugging on his sleeve and damn near bouncing on your stool. The bartender nodded and wisely chose to remain silent as he accepted the card and hurried away to fulfil the order.

“Nanami, I said I was going to pay!”

Kento huffed. “So, I’m Nanami again… where did Kento go?”

Two glasses were set down on folded paper napkins and it was enough to distract you, your fingers slipping free from his sweater. The amused bartender returned Nanami’s card with a receipt and discreetly moved away. Another wise decision.

“You’re a student and I am not. End of discussion,” he said with enough finality in his voice that you nearly acquiesced–nearly.

You couldn’t help but gawk at him in incredulity. Was he so unaccustomed to such gestures that he didn’t realise this was your attempt to say thank you for letting you stay in his apartment? He swallowed a long sip of his whisky that you had already forgotten the name of, but you were sure was extremely expensive. His Adam’s apple bobbed and your mouth ran dry.

“It was meant to be a thank you, dummy,” you groused, pouting as you raised your straw to your lips and sipped the crimson concoction you’d ordered. “Y’know, for letting me stay at your place?”

“Did you know that you say y’know rather a lot?”

Blinking, you met his hazel eyes and nearly whimpered at the warm glow that shone from their depths. It was like standing before a roaring fire, logs popping merrily from the leaping flames and they had a way of making you feel… special. His face softened when he teased you like this, with no scowls wrinkling his face. For a man who was definitely manly–all sharp jaw and angular cheekbones–those mischievous eyes cast a boyish charm over him and you found yourself leaning closer, your elbow resting on the bar until he cleared his throat and looked away.

Thankfully, you were able to navigate the rough seas of casual conversation without incident. Kento spoke about his work with a passion that didn’t seem likely for what sounded like a rather mundane office job. You teased him for his dedication and the long hours he spent behind a desk with limited social interaction. He took it well, or perhaps it was the alcohol that loosened him up.

His cheeks were warming nicely whilst the bar picked up around you. The steady stream of corporate slaves traipsed in and out with colleagues in tow looking to warm their bellies with a drink or two before the final trek home. Kento spoke fondly of his sister and told you enough embarrassing stories from their childhood that the simmering hurt from not even knowing Karin had a brother, melted away.

The atmosphere was a pleasant one and Kento was a pleasure to converse with when he wasn’t acting like he had a stick up his butt. In fact, it was surprisingly fun to goad him into huffing and puffing at whatever nonsense took your fancy, simply to see him stiffen and frown, his chest barrelling in indignation until he realised you were baiting him and easily so.

Kento couldn’t recall a time he enjoyed more than this one right now. He was never one for taking up the invites from colleagues to go bar hopping on a Friday night, often staying late in the office and catching up on emails rather than drinking himself into a stupor. Only now did he wonder if he was missing out on something better than what he thought would be no more than a nasty headache and clouded memories. Perhaps, if the right people—or person—it could be enjoyable.

You were funny, animated and scathing but not in a cruel way, or at least that was his interpretation. He appreciated your wit and your unique take on the world caused more than one or two belly laughs, which were worth it just to see how your face lit up in reaction. You were clever too, always quick off the mark when he deliberately tried to trip you up and honestly… he was falling.

Love was far too soon to even consider but mild infatuation? Maybe.

With your drinks now empty, he asked if you would like another and after giving an enthusiastic nod, he ordered two more before standing to find the restroom. The solitude gave you a moment to collect your thoughts, staring into the depths of the polished bar edge as you wondered how to proceed. You liked him, that couldn’t be denied now but it still felt too soon, not to mention the guilt you felt over lusting after your best friend’s brother.

Your reverie was interrupted when fresh drinks were set in front of you and a presence settled by your side. Glancing sideways you expected to find Kento but it wasn’t him. A young man in his early twenties smirked at you, swiping a hand through his slicked-back black hair. He was suited and booted like the majority of the patrons but you stiffened instinctively with how closely he leaned into you.

“Can I buy you a drink, sweetheart?” He offered, clearly ignoring the fresh set of drinks under your nose whilst his arm draped over the back of your chair. The tips of his fingers brushed your shoulder, making you shudder and twist your torso away so he could no longer reach.

“No thanks. I have a drink and that seat is taken.” You pointed to the one he was occupying after lifting both drinks in what you hoped was an obvious show of disinterest.

The man laughed; a dirty smoker’s laugh that raised the hairs on your arms and roiled the contents of your stomach. “C’mon, sweetheart, don’t lie. Liars aren’t as cute as you. I bet you bought both drinks so no one bothered you, right? I’m too smart to fall for that, all the girls are doing that these days.”

Every warning sign and alarm blared obnoxiously loud inside your head. If your instincts hadn’t tipped you off, his words certainly did. You were not the first woman to be subjected to his unwanted presence and you prayed that no one had fallen victim to his overbearing advances.

Undeterred by your previous movement to escape his touch, the man turned his body into you and this time, instead of trying to put his arm around your shoulder, he landed a heavy palm on your thigh. You openly grimaced at the unsolicited move, brushing his hand away and crossing your legs. Any sensible man would understand this as a sign to quit but of course, he seemed to only take it as some kind of sick challenge.

“Someone’s a little frigid. Let me warm you up a bit, I promise to be gentle,” he sneered, showing teeth stained from years of cigarettes and lacklustre oral hygiene.

You caught the eye of the bartender, he was watching closely and you were grateful that he was attentive.

Your mouth snapped open to retort sarcastically about his lack of perception skills, but at that moment the bartender, who you considered your safety net, moved away to the other end of the bar to serve a new customer.

What you didn’t know was that the man behind the bar knew that you were completely safe, he had seen what you had not. Nanami Kento was striding across the room and he was pissed.

At first, he had waited to see how you reacted to the man and his clear advances, unsure if you were into this kind of thing or not, but the second he could see your grimace and how your entire body leaned away from the man in his seat, fire filled his veins. The very second he touched you without invitation and continued to advance when it was obvious you weren’t interested, he saw red.

He would never understand the self-righteousness of some men, and their seeming belief that all women were fair game if they tried hard enough. It was not foreign to him, and this wasn’t the first time he stepped in to ensure the safety of a woman, often women he didn’t even know. This time was different and he was consumed with both rage and confusion at his reaction.

You weren’t his, he reminded himself as he stopped behind the man still leering at you.

A dark shadow fell over your harasser and your head snapped up at the same moment the man glanced around when someone tapped his shoulder. Nanami’s face was twisted with barely restrained fury, a thick vein popped on his temple and you gasped as the heavy waves of anger crashed outward from his stance. It was potent stuff, enough to tighten your chest when the edges licked at you just for being so close to the source.

Kento appeared broader, taller, and more angular. It must have been a trick of the light, but your heart pounded all the same. You weren’t even watching the man suddenly swallow dryly in the wake of Kento’s fury, no, you couldn’t rip your eyes away from him. The second heartbeat from the previous night was returning with vigour and you crossed your legs to draw your thighs tighter together.

“Leave.”

One single word imbued with enough power and natural dominance the man turned tail and ran for the door without even a backward glance.

“Are you alright?” Kento asked, retaking his seat and throwing back half his drink in one swallow. You watched as he sucked his teeth, his fingers digging into his eyes as if he were suddenly weary of the entire world. Not until he turned to you in question, gaze searching your face with uncertainty did you realise you hadn’t answered.

It was your turn to swallow the runny saliva in your mouth. “Yes… yes, don’t worry. He was a jerk but it could have been worse. I mean, it doesn’t happen often—”

“It shouldn’t happen at all,” he interjected.

“I know, but it’s okay.”

He grimaced but said no more. His anger was still palpable, but once where the flames had licked at you for daring to be too close, they now seemed to cocoon around the pair of you and it was a comfort. A comfort you fought against leaning into, failing when your frame swayed closer and your eyelids sagged.

The thought of how you might act if he were your man rose like oil on water, swirling images of clutching the front of his expensive cream sweater to pull him into a kiss that demonstrated a sliver of your gratitude. The kaleidoscope of colours shifted to the interior of his apartment, kicking hastily out of shoes whilst your tongues tangled and your hands roamed with abandon. Decadent heat caressed your chest, prickling your skin and causing you to squirm in your seat, all to the carefully guarded gaze of Kento.

He didn’t know what to make of your sudden shift in demeanour. You were jittery where you once had been perfectly comfortable, he wondered if perhaps you were experiencing a delayed reaction to what had transpired but what he didn’t expect was for you to reach out and run a finger along his forearm.

It was a bold move and one that you didn’t fully think through before you were in full flow. To hell with being Karin’s brother, you wanted to take the chance of seeing if you were compatible. He was ticking more and more boxes the longer you remained in his company and honestly, you wanted to know if he’d loosen up for you if given the right incentive.

“Do you make a habit of coming to the rescue of damsels in distress?”

His nostrils flared and immediately you knew that these were not the right words to use. “Don’t… I’m not interested in pity.”

All you could do was stare, slack-jawed at the absolute stupidity of this man. Did he honestly think you were the type to come on to any guy that came to your rescue? The anger that leaked from Kento seeped into you, fuelling your own and you puffed your chest in response. The man was dense, that much was clear but it was the slight against your assumed reasoning that bothered you the most.

“Are you for real? You think I would do this to just anyone that came along and helped me out of a bad situation?” You hissed through clenched teeth, letting your anger surround you like armour.

Nanami blinked, once and then again. He loathed to be seen as some heroic white knight figure, especially when he didn’t feel like one. Doing the bare minimum should not be praised, not when it is the very least all decent humans should be doing. It wasn’t the first time a woman had tried to proposition him after he chased some creep off, but it was the first time when he actually knew the woman in question.

Perhaps he misread the situation, yet that couldn’t be true either because that would mean that you were interested in him and most likely from before he had returned from the restroom. His head was pounding and it had nothing to do with the music in the bar or the alcohol that filled his stomach.

“I don’t–”

The legs of your chair scraped across the floor as you pushed up and out, halfway towards the door before he could even react to your hasty exit. It was your turn to be pissed and boy did you let it show. A couple leapt apart as they blocked your exit, and Kento was quick to down the final swallow of his whisky and threw down some cash on the bar before jogging after you.

You heard your name being called and knew that he was right on your heels. The feeling of foolishness made you want to cry and that only intensified how furious you were. How dare he make assumptions like that without warrant. A hand caught beneath your elbow and you whirled around only to be met with those uncertain eyes once more. Exhaling deeply through your nose, you reined in your temper and waited.

“I’m sorry?” Kento said, dropping his hand away from your elbow and rubbing at his neck sheepishly.

“Are you? Sorry, that is, because that sounded like a question to me. If you don’t mean it, don’t say it.” You tapped your foot against the pavement, holding his stare with unwavering determination not to be the first to look away.

“I made an assumption and that was wrong of me. This isn’t… it's not the first time I’ve been spoken to like that and I reacted out of instinct.”

“Yeah, well, I bet they hadn’t…” You clapped a hand across your mouth, startled by what you very nearly admitted and so casually too.

As quickly as your anger arrived, it dissipated just as fast. Instead, you were overcome with the memory of bedsheets twisted around your knees and your fingers busy between your thighs. You throbbed, remembering how you imagined Kento’s handsome face between your thighs, his chin and mouth swollen and sticky from the mess he’d made, and your fingers tangled in his hair to encourage him.

The image of your fantasy Kento blurred with the man standing in front of you looking perplexed. How on earth could you have nearly admitted stuffing yourself with your fingers whilst thinking of him and what it might be like if you invited him into your bed? It was comical, really it was.

“Hadn’t what?” Kento asked in confusion, if not at the sentence you left hanging then the way you seemed to double over as if you were in pain. You waved away his attempts to step closer, and he wasn’t certain if what he heard was a delirious giggle or a noise of anguish. What hadn’t those other women done that you had? There were a hundred possibilities surely, and yet, what popped into his head was the sticky mess he had made last night whilst thinking of you.

No, it couldn’t be that… it would be stupid to even think that you might have both sought relief whilst so close yet so far, only a wall keeping you apart. It was wishful thinking on his part, or so he thought. The way you burst into spontaneous laughter gave him further pause. He was grateful when you straightened and bumped your shoulder into his arm, and walked with him back to the apartment. Your anger forgotten and the atmosphere between you clearer than it had been moments ago.

But what if..?

#delirious writes #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami fluff #nanami kento smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #tw toxic behavior #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

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theres-a-body-here · 2 months

Text

Recieving a love letter

Part two

You decided that the best time to give it to them (pause) is during a trial

Characters: Oni, Trapper, Deathslinger, Mastermind, Cannibal, Ghostface Warnings: Internalized Homophobia, Death, some spice Male!reader

The Oni - Kazan Yamaoka

Impossible... You're both men

Kazan cannot accept this

This simply wasn't acceptable during his era

He immediately smashes your head in with his Kanabo on instinct

Gay panic defense

The evil has been dealt with, Kazan lets out a deep exhale

But...his eyes wander to the letter, still within your cold, stiff grasp

Advantages come from all angles... Don't they?

Kazan takes the letter, convincing himself he'll use whatever information he finds inside against you

It smells like you... Not that he checked

(He did)

A red wax seal holds the letter closed

Kazan looks closer

You had carved his family crest into the wax

Something foreign invades his body, something other than rage

It's nervousness

He opens the letter, making sure to keep the seal intact

For no reason in particular

(He's pocketing that mofo)

Instantly, he's impressed by your penmanship

So organized, clean, and sharp

But its contents are even more eye catching

The love letter is short and sweet

But what follows is even sweeter

A haiku

Kazan feels his heart skip a beat

He checks it once, then again, and one more for good measure

Yep, no mistakes

The loud pop of a gen echoes through the trialground, snapping him out of his trance

Kazan whips his head all around, looking for witnesses

Finding none, he pockets the letter

He stares at your lifeless body, feeling something else flutter in his chest

Guilt

The Trapper - Evan MacMillan

Evan stares at you as you hold your letter out for him to take

After a long, uncomfortable silence, he takes it

He brings it to his face, inspecting it through the holes of his mask

Evan has absolutely no idea what to do here

He looks back at you

"Do you...want me to fuck you?"

Romantic gestures are new territories for Evan, so he honestly thinks this is just your way of asking for dick

Whichever the case, he has a job to do

He puts you down without hesitation and hooks you up, leaving without a second glance

He's still holding the letter

Part of him wants to rip it up, and the other is curious to know what you wrote

He sloppily tears the letter open, reading it hastily as he walks to the next gen

Evan stops when he reads a bit more

You weren't asking for a ball slapping, eye watering, toe curling, deep dick fuck...

You were asking for his heart

You wanted all of him, hooks and all

Okay now he feels a bit bad

Evan reads some more

You actually drew a portrait of him within the letter, saying you learnt of his knack for art from Philip

Now he feels even worse

He lets the others save you without hiccup

In fact, he basically leaves for alone for the rest of the trial

He stops chasing and hurting the others occasionally to stare at you from afar, observing that focused look on your face as you work on gens or heal a teammate

Evan feels butterflies and he no longer has the strength to swat at them

It doesn't matter if he kills all your friends or if they opened the gates and left; Eventually, you're alone with him

He holds your letter out, watching as confusion sets on your face

"I'm dirty and sloppy... I'll ruin it"

He sounds vulnerable, waiting for you to respond

You curl your hand over his, folding the letter into his palm

"I want you to keep it," you say softly, as of talking to an apprehensive deer

He doesn't know what to say

Whatever he was going to respond with gets stuck in his throat as you lean in to kiss the cheek of his mask

He watches as you leave through the exit gate, glancing down at the letter in his hand

The Deathslinger - Caleb Quinn

Obviously you're joking... Right?

Cuz there's no way you'd be attracted to someone like him— Old, beat-up, and grumpy

You'd have to push him some more if you want him to accept the letter

Convince him you're being genuine

Eventually, he gives in and takes the letter from you

He glances around nervously, like he's expecting the other survivors to jump out and laugh at him for falling for the joke

He opens the letter, stunned when he sees there's actually things written inside

A blush creeps into his face as he reads, only deepening when he reads more

After he's done, Caleb can't even meet your gaze

After a few moments of silence, he speaks

"I can.....uhhh....keep this... right?"

Talk about awk as hell

Even after the trial, he lies awake thinking about it

Caleb rereads the letter over and over

You're gonna have to be the one to seek him out outside of trials since he's way too embarrassed now

"Yer serious 'bout this, ain'tcha?"

He decides to let his guard down just a bit to let you in

Be prepared to give him lots of reassurance

"Yer sure ya ain't mistaken?"

Caleb isn't one for words, so instead of writing you a letter, he makes you trinkets out of scrap metal

If you kiss him as thanks, he'll actually die on the spot

So please don't... unless you're evil as hell

The Mastermind - Albert Wesker

Wesker makes you kneel as you give him the letter

After snatching it out of your hands, he scans it meticulously

"I see you've made eleven spelling mistakes"

He enjoys the way you tense up instantly, like a puppy waiting to be put on punishment

"How adorable"

He ALLOWS you to watch him put the letter in his inner coat pocket

He would never admit it, but this certainly boosted his ego to new heights

Albert lifts you off the ground and tosses you over his shoulder

He carries you to the basement

"Stay here while I deal with your companions"

He leaves to kill the rest of your friends

After every hook, he pats his chest to make sure the letter is still there

He'll deny he ever did that if you ask him though

Once he returns, Wesker will bombard you with questions, expecting an answer within 5 seconds or less

What took you so long? What do you like most about him? Would you choose him over your friends? How can you satisfy him?

He loves how easily you crumble under his interrogation, blushing and stammering like a fool

Once he's had his fill, he picks you up again

He carries you to hatch

Before he lets you go, he grips your chin and makes you look at him

"I suppose I ought to leave you with something"

Wesker reaches into his coat and pulls out a pair of sunglasses

"I hope you can explain this to your allies," he chuckles

Before you can protest, he puts them on you and drops you into the hole

The Cannibal - Bubba Sawyer

Freezes in place and gasps when he sees you hold out your letter

He lets out a happy squeal before dropping his hammer and chainsaw to the ground

Bubba takes the letter from you gently, treating it like glass

He immediately plops onto the ground

He tears open the envelope carefully and take out the letter

He's completely forgotten about the trial

He reads the letter, shaking with excitement

It's sappy, sweet, and everything he's ever wanted

Even when the sounds of popping generators ring through the trial grounds, Bubba doesn't take his eyes off the letter for a second

He occasionally stops reading to either make a sound of happiness or cover his face out of embarrassment

Once he's finished, Bubba will stand up and pull you into a bone-crushing hug, lifting you up a bit and swaying you around like a ragdoll

You're definitely leaving this trial unharmed

He grabs your hand tightly, marching over to the hatch or exit gates and lets you leave with a goofy wave

The Entity doesn't even punish him for it since his joy was so great it made up for the lack of bad emotions from the survivors

He immediately works on writing a letter for you after the trial is over

The next time you see him, expect another bear hug followed by a letter being shoved in your face

It's messy, sticky, and covered in glitter

Crudely drawn hearts cover the inside as the letters are shaky and almost intelligible

But you can tell Bubba put his whole heart into it

The Ghostface - Danny Johnson

Instantly smug as hell

"Oh, what's that? That for me?"

He takes it from you and immediately tears it open, tossing the envelope behind him nonchalantly

His mask moves as he visibly reads through the letter, occasionally chuckling and shaking his head

Danny finds this scenario so fucking funny— A survivor having a crush on a killer

After he's done, he looks up at you

"Do you have daddy issues or something?'

He laughs loudly when he sees a hurt expression flash across your face, walking over to wrap an arm around your shoulders

"I'm just messing with ya, cutie"

Danny marches over with his head high to one of the hooked survivors, waving the letter in their face

You stand to the side awkwardly, unable to meet your friend's bewildered look

"Your homeboy is down bad for me. Whaddya think about that?"

The survivor grits their teeth struggling to keep the Entity's claw from puncturing their chest

"I think....Gah!...they.... have daddy issues...fuck!"

"THATS WHAT I SAID!"

You're never living this down

He goes around the map showing off your love letter to the others

After he finishes gloating, Danny hooks you

What? He's the Entity's favorite! He can't his reputation be tarnished

Outside of the trial, he follows you around like a shadow

He deadass interrupts your conversations with the others to tell you he wants attention, and you'd better deliver

Your love letter was basically an invitation for him to claim you as his own, whether you regret it or not

You're his now

Like a housecat that swats at others who get too close to their owner

"That kiss factory better be open, pookie"

He says shit like this in front of any survivor or killer

620 notes · View notes

faefictions · 11 months

Text

Hospital Meet Cute

Eddie Munson x Reader

3.3k words

“What are you in for?”

They were the first words that had been spoken directly to you for what felt like hours. The bright white of the room and the smell of cleaner was overwhelming enough, but you were nursing a headache that was beginning to really worry you. In all honesty, you probably should have been rushed back to be examined the second you arrived to the hospital, but it had been well over an hour wait now with no end in sight.

You looked to your right, where the boy who had spoken was sitting and looking at you. He looked almost as bad as you, a bloody nose that you assumed was broken, a split lip, and a black eye just beginning to darken. You were almost too exhausted to answer him at all, but what you could muster came out much more rude than you had intended.

“Can’t be sure until they actually get me checked out,” you sighed, checking the time on the wall yet again. Only 15 seconds had passed since the last time you glanced, it was still nearing midnight, your bad day hadn’t yet ended.

“How long have you been here?”

You really looked at him this time. He was young, maybe around your age, give or take a couple years. His eyes were brown and his hair was long and curly, much longer than the men in your hometown. He was calm, calmer than you would have been if you looked like him. Hell, for all you knew, you did look like him, and you had been fighting off tears the entire drive here. But this guy was sitting there like he was a regular in the waiting room, and you sat there clueless to what town you were even in.

“I’m not sure when I got here, but its been more than an hour at least. Maybe two now.”

“They’re really off their game tonight,” he said, almost under his breath as he sat up to look behind the desk. You were staring to think maybe you were right about him being a regular here.

“I think you misunderstood my question though,” he smiled at you as he sat back down, “I’m looking for the dirt, the juicy stuff. The how more than the why.”

His smile was charming, but his happy go lucky demeanor was going to get old fast. You had a feeling that ignoring him wouldn’t do much though, and you could use a break from staring at the clock.

“Well it’s nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Hurts like a bitch though. Your nose doing ok?”

“Yeah, probably not broken. It doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as last time I broke it, so we’re probably in the clear.”

“Glad to hear it,” you chuckled. You had never seen someone in such a good mood with blood actively dripping down their face.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?”

“No, I usually respect the privacy of strangers that I met less than a minute ago.”

“I’m Eddie, now I’m not a stranger.”

“That’s not how that works,” you smiled incredulously.

“Sure it is! And if you tell me your name, you won’t be a stranger to me. And it’s been more than a minute now, so I think that means we’re in the clear.”

“You are ridiculous.”

“I get that a lot, but I didn’t hear an introduction anywhere in that insult.”

“I’m y/n.”

He extended a hand, and you hesitated for a second before offering your opposite hand as a compromise. It took him a second to decipher why you raised the wrong hand, but when he look down to your left wrist, he could see the bruising.

“So, you gonna ask now?”

“No,” you chuckled at his persistence.

“Damn. Well I was just going to tell you not to worry your pretty little head about it anyway so I guess it all worked out.”

“Wow. Are you always this charming?”

“You think I’m charming?” he smiled at you, and you half expected to find a missing tooth among his pearly whites, but his teeth seemed to remain one of the only parts of his body unscathed.

“You’re a bit of an ass. That’s about it.”

“And you’re just a ray of sunshine.”

“Well sorry for not being so chipper after…” you paused as you were about to reveal what your night had entailed, but shot a look at him before you could, “Damn, you almost got me.”

“That was a close one,” he smiled mischievously. You couldn’t help but admit that you really liked this guy. He was nicer than the people in your hometown, and the way he dressed was a beacon for someone like you.

You figured if you told him what had happened, it wouldn’t be as surprising to him as it would be to someone else. The kids in your town had been terrorizing you since kindergarten. The town freak since the ripe age of 5. Things had been getting progressively worse since your father died back in ’79. Now with no mother or father, you no longer had anything in common with the kids in your school. You thought the bullying would stop after high school, but you were wrong. You learned that leaving town altogether was your only hope.

That is what you had been doing. Your car was packed to the brim with your belongings, and you were set on your way for a small town about an hour away. Far enough for a new beginning, but close enough to not terrify you. Halfway through the drive, you noticed the car behind you getting a little too close for comfort. The sun had just set, but you still recognized the car. It belonged to the boyfriend of a girl that had led the crusade against you in high school, the one person you were most thankful to get away from. You knew if he was driving behind you, she was in the passenger seat, and their friends were probably packed into the back. Whatever they had planned wasn’t going to be good and you were starting to get nervous.

They started to tailgate you, and you did your best to keep your speed steady. If they rear ended you, that was their problem not yours. But your sentiment quickly changed when you realized that there was no one else on the road. If they forced you to stop, it would just be them against you, and you were worried that that was the plan all along. So you sped up.

You rode for a couple miles with them on your ass, speeding almost 20 over the limit, hoping to come across some traffic and a well lit stop to get them to pass. But before you could reach your safe haven, they had pulled up beside you. The last thing you remembered was her smiling at you before running into the side of your car.

They must have sped off, not even stopping to see if you were alive, because when you woke up you were alone on the road again. You could see the lights of a town maybe a mile up the road, and with your car now totaled, your only hope was to walk the rest of the way.

You hadn’t told the ladies behind the desk about the severity of your situation. You just told them you got into a little accident. You were regretting that now, knowing that if you told them you were ran off the road and had to walk to the hospital after coming to in a totaled car, you probably would have been seen by now.

“Do you want me to get you something cold for your arm? It looks like it’s staring to swell.”

You glanced down to your left arm again, and he was right. You still weren’t sure what was broken and what just ached. Your adrenaline was pumping during the walk here, but you didn’t feel an ounce of it anymore.

“That would be lovely, but where are you going to get something cold in the waiting room.”

“I know my way around,” he winked before getting up and leaving you for a moment. He returned a minute later with an ice cold can of soda.

“Come here often?” you chuckled as you took the can and rested against the tight skin on your wrist.

“Yeah, actually. I’m on a first name basis with a majority of the staff at this point. Especially the ones who work the weekends.”

“What, are you more accident prone on a Saturday?”

“Oh, darlin, you really think I bruised myself up this good? Nah, not even I’m that talented.”

“You really want to tell me what happened, don’t you?”

“Only so you’re trapped into telling me what happened to you. No offense, but you look like you’ve gone to Hell and back, and I would love for you to feed into my morbid curiosity.”

“Then you can keep your secrets,” you smirked at him, and glanced back to the clock. Somehow, 10 minutes had passed. You had begun to convince yourself that you had entered purgatory before you starting speaking to Eddie. It felt like time was never going to progress, and you were going to be stuck waiting for medical attention for the rest of eternity.

Eddie was about to speak up, but before he could open his smart ass mouth, the doors of the entrance slid open and he glanced behind him to see whose shoes were squeaking as they made their way to you.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. The smirk was wiped off your face when you turned to see a tall man in a police uniform approaching the two of you.

“Hopper, to what do I owe the pleasure,” Eddie tried to joke. To you, he was clearly nervous, but you thought he hid it well.

“I’m not here for you this time Munson. But better safe than sorry, you should stick around for a quick word after this,” The officer spoke gruffly, coming off like a disappointed father, “Are you y/n l/n?”

Your heart dropped. You had never been good with authority figures. Whether it be teacher, principles, security guards, or cops. You were always on the butt end of a bad situation, and you learned from a young age that not even finding an adult could save you. No one was ever on your side.

“Uhm, yeah,” you replied, barely above a whisper and unable to look back up at him.

“Thank god,” you heard him grumble under his breath, “Are you aware that your car is on fire a mile up the road?”

“Oh, it just wouldn’t start when I left it.”

Eddie was soaking up the conversation, looking between you and Hopper like it was a tennis match. It was the entertainment he had been hoping for to distract him from the third time he had been in a fight this month. This time he truly did have himself to blame, after saying something he really shouldn’t have to a man much bigger than him after a show at the Hideout. But as he began to piece the puzzle together, he was growing more concerned for you.

“You mind telling me what happened to your car? Or how you got here?,” Hopper’s head quickly swiveled to Eddie, “Did you drive her?”

Eddie just shook his head and glanced at you. He could see your eyes staring to water now, and something in him hated the sight. He reached out and grabbed your good hand, hoping to offer some kind of support or comfort, whichever you needed more.

“I walked.”

“And you were in the car when it flipped?”

Your head shot up, unable to believe what you were hearing.

“It flipped?”

To the best of your recollection, you just swerved off the side of the road. Honestly, you weren’t thinking straight, because there was no reason for you passing out and totaling your car if you had simply swerved.

“It did. There wasn’t anyone else in the car right?”

“No… Just everything I own.” you scoffed as the weight of the situation really sunk in. This brought a whole new meaning to your “new beginning” idea. There was no fresher start than one with nothing from your past.

“How long have you been here?”

You were too stuck in your own thoughts to process that another question had been asked, so Hopper looked to Eddie in hopes of an answer.

“She was here when I got here an hour and a half ago, but she said she doesn’t know how long she’s been here.”

“I’m going to go see if I can get someone to give her a once over. Keep her company.”

Eddie nodded and turned his attention back to you. You were obviously zoned out, and Eddie didn’t blame you, but he needed to reel you back in.

“So much for keeping your secrets,” he whispered, feigning maliciousness, as if he had personally asked Hopper to come down and tell him.

You couldn’t help but laugh at him, even as your tears began to tip over your lower lids.

“I think you have to tell me what happened to you now, if I recall the rules correctly.”

“Oh, I just got beat up at a bar. Nothing near as exciting as what’s going on over here,” he chuckled as he gestured vaguely towards you.

It wasn’t until now that you realized that his hand was holding yours, but you were glad to receive the kind attention. It wasn’t something you were used to.

“So what were you running from?” he asked, the warmth and humor suddenly absent from his voice.

“What do you mean?”

“You had all your belongings packed into the back of your car, and I am 90% sure you aren’t from around here. So I can naturally assume you were running from something. Honestly I have a feeling I know the answer, but you know, never judge a book by its cover.”

“Maybe I want to hear your guess.”

“Town freak?”

“Excuse me?”

“Outcast? Pariah, reject, untouchable? I can go on for hours. I’m afraid I have an unfair advantage with all the synonyms.”

“And why’s that?”

“I’ve been called them all, sweetheart. You are speaking with the resident Freak of Hawkins, Indiana,” he pretended to bow from his seat.

“Guess it really does take one to know one, huh,” you offered a half hearted smile.

“So what was it? Weird music? Everyone hate your dad? One person just decide to make it their lives mission to make everyone hate you?”

“If I knew what it was, I would have changed it years ago. I think it’s just genetic though. But your guesses aren’t bad.”

You adored that Eddie could make you laugh even after something as terrible as this night. You almost didn’t want to get called back anymore, knowing that your time with him would likely come to an end, and you may never see him again.

When Hopper returned to let you know that your wait was almost over, you were almost disappointed.

“Y/n, I need to talk to you really quick though. Is that alright?” he asked, and he seemed much more gentle than he had when he arrived. You hated the pity, but it was much better than how you were used to being treated by the police. So you gave him a nod.

“Eddie, can you give us a minute?”

“It’s ok if he stays,” you cut in quickly, subconsciously squeezing Eddie’s hand harder.

“Ok, that’s fine with me,” Hopper gave you a smile before he pulled a chair closer to sit directly across from you. He pulled out a small notepad and a pen and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Y/n, I need to know what you remember from before your car flipped. If you remember anything at all.”

“Why?”

“There are… There are some marks on the drivers side of the car that suggest you were hit. I just want to put the pieces together before we start a man hunt, just in case I’m wrong in thinking someone ran you off the road.”

“It’s ok, there’s no need to look for them. I don’t want to press charges or anything.”

Your heart began to pick up thinking about the retaliation you might receive from bringing legal charges agains them. You were trying to get away, the last thing you needed was a case to tie you to them.

Hopper’s head quirked in curiosity, and he squinted his eyes at you before asking, “Y/n, do you know who did this?”

“Well, yeah, but like I said, it’s…It’s fine.”

“Can we have a second Hop?” Eddie asked gently, and Hopper nodded before crossing the room to allow you two to speak.

“The people you were running from, are they the ones that did this?”

“Eddie, you don’t get it.”

“No, I do, remember? I need you to take a deep breath, ok?”

It took you a second to realize how hard you were squeezing his hand and how quickly your heart was beating. So you took his advice and took a few deep breaths before you looked for him to continue.

“I can tell you’re scared. But, y/n, this isn’t school yard bullying. They could have killed you. And it doesn’t sound like they stopped to see if you were alive. They deserve to be locked up for that, you know that right?”

“But they won’t.”

“Cops don’t like you back home?”

You just shook your head.

“Well look, you met Hopper over there,” he gestured over his shoulder and waiting for you to nod before continuing, “Well he’s different. I promise. He will make sure those bastards burn for what they did. He doesn’t care if their daddy is mayor, he will make sure they do the time the deserve ok?”

“How do you know it was more than one person?”

“Those kind of people always travel in packs.”

“If I tell him who it was…” you paused to organize your thoughts into a coherent sentence as your mind raced, “How do you know they won’t just find me and try again?”

Eddie gently reached up grab your cheeks and got closer to your face, “I swear they won’t lay another finger on you. And if you decide to stick around Hawkins, I can assure you no one else will either.”

“You offering to be my body guard?”

“Maybe,” he chuckled. He could tell you were calming down already.

“By the looks of you, I don’t think you’re cut out for that line of work.”

“Shush,” he laughed, “So what do you say, can I call Hop back over?”

You nodded, and a minute later, Hopper was out the door and ready to bring justice to the people who had been making your existence unbearable for your whole life. It wasn’t much longer before a nurse rushed out and apologized for the long wait to both of you and called you both back. Your heart dropped when you realized you may not see Eddie again, and he could sense your reluctance to let his hand go.

“Don’t worry, I already memorized your full name like the good freak I am, and I will be back to visit you later.”

“Promise?”

“Of course. The best thing about the hospital here in the lovely town of Hawkins, Indiana, is that our visiting hours are 24/7. I can come annoy you for as long as I want,” he smirked at you, “I just need to run home and grab my copy of Lord of the Rings after they check out my nose. I think you’ll really like it.”

“With this headache, I don’t think I’m going to like reading anything.”

“Oh don’t worry, I wasn’t going to let you lay a finger on it. I like doing the voices.”

You both laughed, and continued to hold hands until it was absolutely necessary for you to part ways.

“See you soon,” Eddie smiled down at you before following a different nurse to a room down the hall.

“See you soon.”

@embrace-themagic @fanficparker @heartbeats-wildly @saturn-aka-six @calum-hoodwinked-me @peterplanet @mischiefmanaged49 @nicotine-sunshine820 @itsjusttor @emistrash @thenoddingbunny-blog @sovereignparker @raajali3@eddielives1986 @eddieswifu @chickpeadumpsterfire @fluffybunnyu

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson hurt/comfort #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine

2K notes · View notes

wolfiesmoon · 3 months

Note

Hey I hope you are doing well when ever you are reading this but how do you think the 3rd year boys from twst would react to their s/o (gn reader) cuddling with a huge plush instead of them.

Like this.

Oh boy oh boy this kinda cures my writers block tbh, i have so many drafts but none of em look enticing enough to continue writing (´д｀|||)

I took out a few of the 3rd years bc its too many people for 1 fic but i might make a part 2 where i add the missing 3rd years at some point

i went with the more silly writing style again, hope that's fine by you ○( ＾皿＾)っ

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Malleus Draconia

He doesn't exactly get why, but he feels kinda annoyed just laying next to you while you hug a big ol plushie

This doesn't feel right🫤

But then again, you look rlly happy and satisfied so he stays quiet since if you're happy, he's happy (he desperately wants to be in the plushy's place)

When you playfully kiss the plush though, that rule no longer applies. After all, his rightful spot is in your arms🫠

He nudges you. "Put the stuffed animal away."

"You sound angry." You smirk and kiss the plush again, knowing he's probably annoyed about that

without another word, he pulls the plushy out of your hands and settles down in its place

"I am a much better than that object. Just so you know." he smiled smugly, expecting a kiss on the cheek just like you gave to the plushie earlier

you kissed him on the lips instead just to see his eyes widen and his face go red ofc 😏

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Leona Kingscholar

basically, it is NOT happening

"hell no." is the only thing he says before ripping the poor plushie out of your arms and chucking it across the room

like actually how DARE you try to replace him with a plushie

"Why would you do that?" You pouted at him, looking at the now discarded plushy from the bed🤕

"You know damn well why." He huffed, laying down on top of you without warning which tends to be a habit of his

"Because that's my spot, got it?" He answered for you. clearly you forgot😒

"Uhhh, right." you answered after a short pause...

"I won't remind you next time." he sounded rlly annoyed. it's kinda funny how worked up he got over a plushy replacing him 🤭

this also means he won't let you get up for like.... atleast 2 hours to atone for your sins

moral of the story: don't do this again unless you want a ripped up plushie and a pissed off lion man😠

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Idia Shroud

"This is so unfair. Even worse than an OP boss. " he sighed dramatically, laying down besides you and pouting at the sight og a huge plushie in your arms

"pick up the sock if you have enough energy to complain." you turned away from him, still annoyed with him

being the epic gamer he is (😎💯), he discarded one of his socks in the middle of his room and didn't feel like picking it up later even after you told him to

...which ended with you refusing to cuddle with him until he does pick up the sock

after a short while of very awkward silence...

he groaned in annoyance, begrudgingly getting up and finally picking up the sock, then leaving the room to put it in the wash

you smirked victoriously, placing the plushie away as promised and letting him hug you instead

"The things you make me do, smh." he sighed, relaxing into you 😒

"Picking up a singular sock?" you teased him, hugging him back

He didn't reply so that means it's your victory 😝

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Vil Schoenheit

this is an unforgivable offense, just because you had a little disagreement earlier doesn't mean you can just replace him with a plushie😠

love transcends disagreements, after all

does not help at all that the plushie's cute round face reminds him of a certain thorn in his side named Neige LeBlanche😒

he sighs, "I may have been too harsh back there."

your only reply is an annoyed huff and you hug the plushie tighter which makes one of those anime veins pop up on his face 💢

he takes a deep breath "It was not my intention to hurt your... sensibilities." he's trying babe, he's really trying

You don't reply for a moment...

"Ugh." you throw the plushie away and hug him tightly "This doesn't mean I forgive you, just for the record."

"I still stand by my opinion too, just worded less harshly." he gently puts an arm around you, stroking your back

it was only a matter of time until you gave up with your stubborn pettiness, soon you'll forgive him too, he'll make sure of that 😌

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ Lilia Vanrouge

He's actually surprisingly chill about it i feel like

He wouldn't get annoyed or be jealous per se, he'd just get a little sad it's not him you're hugging😔

he's there, you know? there's no need for a plushie...

"Am I not satisfactory enough?" He asks half playfully half seriously

"In what sense?" you totally knew what he meant but just wanted to tease him back

"Hey, isn't this supposed to be the other way around?" he smiled at you, immediately knowing what you were playing at

"Hahaha, you know me too well." you kiss his cheek, yet you still don't let go of the plushie which makes him pout

"I see you have found yourself a new lover." his eyes travel to the plushie for a moment, the betrayal is real😔🙏🏻

"You got a problem with him?" you raised a brow 🤨

"A little." he hugged you from the back, getting comfy

"Okay fine, maybe my ex is the better one after all." you let go of the plushie and turned around to hug him back 💗

1K notes · View notes

kithtaehyung · 4 months

Text

drabble: first one pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) rating/genre: pg ; fluff ; three tangerines au note: uhh. surprise and happy holidays LOL. based on this ig reel sent in the discord multiple times, this little slice is gonna kickstart the "3tan does sm" mini series! basically this little ongoing collection will have all the drabbles/requests based on social media things y'all send in. if it inspires me, i'll make a drabble or something out of it hehehe. enjoy! warnings: nothing big. just 3tan yoongi lol links: three tangerines mlist ; masterlist drop date: december 28, 2023, 7:07pm est word count: 1.1k

In the middle of winter, you decide that tonight is the perfect time to try something new.

Which leaves Yoongi confused as hell because this attempt requires him to be outside in the freeze, when the two of you were just bundled up in blankets and watching a movie minutes ago.

But he can scold your lack of attention span and tendency to watch videos during long movies later.

“What am I doing?”

Placing him on one spot of the sidewalk just outside his apartment, you urge, “Just, hold on. Stay right there.”

“Huh?”

Giggling, you give no other instructions, instead rushing forward to bring your phone to a nearby bench. When you set it down to see what the camera catches, you determine that you look fine enough, so you tell Yoongi—who is simply standing there and still looking devastatingly handsome—what you wanna do. “Okay, pull up the video I sent you.”

“Shouldn’t we go back inside?”

“Yes, yes, after this.”

When you walk up, he pulls up the link, and you both watch as people run to their partners and rush them out of frame, spinning them around or chasing them away.

Ever consistent, Yoongi is both unfazed and wondering what goes on. “What’s the goal of this again?”

Shrugging, you’re just happy he’s not tugging you back indoors yet. “I don’t really know, but. I just wanna see how you do it.”

“Mm…” He looks one more time, cementing his answer with the way he smushes his lips. “Fine.”

“You’ll do it?”

“Uh huh. But this is just for you.”

Right. Because of course this can't be seen anywhere else. Your smile is rueful with a tinge of holiday hope, “I know.”

And Yoongi’s expression carries the same weight.

Maybe one day this conversation will be a lot different. Just like the way your quick stay at his place while your brother is at a work dinner will prove a lot longer of a night. One day.

Maybe.

Cheering yourself up, you practically bounce back to where the bench is, slipping a bit with a tiny “whoops” before reaching out to press record. Backing up onto the sidewalk, you throw up peace signs, poses, do a few different filler moves until Yoongi does his part.

But nothing happens.

And no one appears by your side.

So you turn to see if he actually left but goddamn it is he recording you? “What the!”

Yoongi just laughs as you kick your head back in laughter, and stops holding his phone up. “So cute.”

Damn it, he can’t give you this fluttering feeling while being annoying! “Focus!”

Groaning, you turn your recording off and then back on again, repeating some of the same things for the camera and shuffling a little in place to warm up. Because it is freezing and this idea could have waited another season or two.

And when you look to the side after a pause, Yoongi is recording again.

You bend forward to shield from the chill, your yell echoing throughout the small little courtyard, “Yoongi!” Does he have to keep grinning like that? There’s no time for prolonging this even more! “I cannot with you right now.”

After another attractive huff of amusement, he keeps going, “I can’t help it! You’re being adorable.”

Well. At least Yoongi’s having his fun. If anything, he’s stalling because he doesn’t wanna do whatever challenge this is. So you can drop it. “Ugh… Never mind, we can go inside.”

After grabbing your phone, you walk up to him again before he stops you. And you think it’s because you were about to slip once more, but his low tone gets you to see his face under those locks.

“Nah, we can do it.” When you give him a pouting frown, his teeth shine. “Serious!”

Easily placated, you’re back to grinning. “Okay, for real this time! It’s cold!”

“I know! You didn’t even let me get my beanie!”

Laughing out your guilt, you warn him over your shoulder, “If you run into me, you better not knock me over.”

“I won’t, doll.”

“Okay!” Placing your phone down for hopefully the last time, you hit record, seeing yourself sigh before gingerly walking back to the sidewalk.

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to try and get Yoongi to do this. It’s colder than hell’s deepest frost at this point, and some snow is still falling from darkened skies.

But all the little reactions in the videos looked too cute, and you are genuinely curious to see what he’s gonna do. So even through your poses, you brace yourself. Is he gonna run in for a hug? Is he gonna rush you off with a big warm embrace?

…Is he really not gonna do anything?

Feeling a little bad, you drop the cute poses and turn.

Only to feel him right at your side, gathering you with a soft, strong arm and leading you down the sidewalk.

Well, damn.

The gesture is so him that, for a second, you genuinely think that he saw something and led you out of harm’s way on instinct. But as you look around, you don’t see anyone else in the wintry courtyard besides the two of you.

“What’s wrong?”

Your vision flicks away from the lighted trees dotting the area. “Oh, nothing, I was just…”

“Wanna run it back? If we do let’s go somewhere else. It’s icy right there.”

Blinking, you see his eyes full of pure curiosity and attentiveness.

And suddenly you wanna go back inside for a completely different reason other than warmth.

“That felt perfect,” you whisper, eyes lowering to his ever inviting lips. “Lemme check it.”

Leaving his cozy side, you go back and retrieve your chilly phone, stopping the recording that you are relieved you successfully started. Both you and Yoongi watch as you play the full thing, and after he leads you out of frame, your jaw drops.

“Oh, my god. This beats all the ones I’ve seen.”

“Really?”

“Damn… Now I’m actually sad I can’t post this.” When you laugh, it’s not all joyful. Turning to him, you pretend to be mad. “Why are you so cool?”

Huffing small, Yoongi looks up and around you before giving your cheek a kiss, and your knees weaken at how tender it is. “Send it to me,” he murmurs.

“You want it, too?”

“Mm.”

“Okay.”

“Just a little longer, babe.” He gives you another peck on your very cold nose. Then both cheeks. And your forehead.

All while you’re out in the open where anyone could witness.

Just his willingness to amuse you was already perfect. Yoongi didn’t need to do any of that, and he certainly didn’t need to be so charming with his stylistic choice. But he did it all anyway while freezing his pretty ass off.

And his next words make your chest yearn to stay with him—for every holiday season and silly trend that comes around.

“Then this’ll be the first one of us we post.”

fin. :)

🌨️ what do we feel! i needed this little drabble :')) 🌨️

a/n: did i mean for this to be a full blown drabble? no! was this the video that bo originally sent me that i flailed over? no! but it's the reel i saw and apparently had been sent in the server multiple times. so here we are with a surprise hahaha.

enjoy your holidays, everyone! and if you have anything social media related that 3tan reminds you of - or you can see the 3tan crew doing - send them in and maybe i'll get inspired again. :D this didn't take me long at all and i wanted to do it, so no worries about extra work!

a/n 2: 3tan12 is going strong alongside the holiday fics! should be posting teasers and taglists for those, too. very very excited for all of them mwahaha

🌨️ links: three tangerines mlist ; masterlist

#oops surprise LOL #3tanslice #3tansm #*latest #*ryenfictalk #3tanextras #three tangerines #bts fic #bts imagines #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi fluff #yoongi x you #bts reactions

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devilmademewriteit · 11 months

Note

thinking about jealous reader and jealous javi

Jealous Girl

gif via @javier-pena

pairing: javier peña x afab!fem!reader

warnings: roughy sex/smut (fem penetration) so 18+ only content; fem!afab!reader; dirty talk; jealous!reader; jealous!javi; sort of dom!javi; allusions to reader having long-ish hair; pet names (baby, babygirl, hermosa, cariño); slut-shaming (reader uses the word ‘whore’); dubcon (no explicit consent, Javi is… forceful).

no use of y/n in this fic

thx 4 the drabble / short fic request!! once again this is FERAL !!! feel free to keep sending me lil drabble requests. they’re so fun to write while I work on my longer fics.

reminder that I am not using the taglist for these, but you can turn on notifs & join the list in my pinned post for my longer works !

-em <3

—

“You broke it off with me, baby, remember?”

What does it matter? What does it matter when you lock eyes with him getting head in his car, parked in some barely-hidden side-street, one block away from your dad’s salsamentaria?

What does it matter when, ten minutes later, he finds you, alone in the back room of the store, forcing back tears of frustration as your shaking hands busy themselves with fresh inventory?

You spin around, prepared to bark curses at him for trespassing into sacred, employee-only territory. He’s leaning against the door, beige suit-jacket a little roughed-up, hair slightly out of place.

“Glad to see you’re enjoying your freedom,” you reply coolly, mirroring his pose against the far wall.

He smiles. You’d known him long enough to recognize that condescending expression — the wolfish twitch of his mustache.

Toying with you for sport.

“And you’re not?” Javi asks, the casual raise of his eyebrows deceptive compared to the darkness overtaking his gaze. “Everybody’s seen you, y’know, leaving bars half-naked with guys twice your age.”

Always an opportunist, the agent pushes on, taking advantage of your stunned silence. “N’ you used to be so shy, babygirl.” A chuckle. “The fuck did I do to you, huh?”

You stammer, wanting to tear into him for his crudeness (though he was right — mixing the breakup with tequila hadn’t failed to strip you of your inhibitions), but the man denies you the chance, gliding forward in a slow, wide step.

Softly. “You wear my gifts for them? Let ‘em fuck you in all those lil’ lace sets I got for you?”

He’s close now, and you’re beginning to see red. This was part of the reason behind the break-up in the first place — neither of you knew how to manage overwhelming care without dousing it in cruelty.

Those long-awaited fighting words finally manage to breach the threshold of your lips. “Yeah, actually, I do,” you drawl, arousal levelled by a red-hot rage coiling tighter and tighter within you, “Ruined a couple pairs.”

“Bullshit.” His consonants slice through his vowels, accusatory and harsh. “Bet that pussy doesn’t even get wet after bein’ trained by me, does it?”

Try not to choke on your snarl, girl. “‘Least I don’t have to get head a block down from my ex’s shop — z’that the only way you can still get hard, Peña?” You muster up a daring smirk, shouldering his challenge head-on. “Hoping you’ll see me walk by so you can finish inside your whore?”

Bull’s eye.

“Don’t act like you give a single fuck where I’m gettin’ my dick wet, cariño.” Every inch of him bristles something fierce, but with skill and practice, he keeps his anger in check — maintains the upper hand — looming over you to consecrate the threat.

“Just pissed that I’m fuckin’ another bitch’s throat when we both know that’s what yours’s made for, right?”

The coil snaps.

Before you can stop it, your hand is in the air, gunning straight for the tan skin over his cheekbone.

In a blink, he’s strangling your wrist, holding back your palm from making punishing contact. The following pause is thick and heavy, quickly overflowing with Javi’s rage-soaked hunger. Dark and dangerous, the man hones in on your glare—

And speaks, voice low.

“Y’know, I let her swallow my load—”

“Let go of me.”

“—but you can take the next one.”

And then he flips you over, brushing off your indignant whine, flattening your back against his chest. Javi is strong (he always has been) and there’s no point in resisting (there never was). He’s unzipped himself, hiked your skirt up, wrenched your panties to the side and forced himself inside you in a matter of seconds.

Dear God, forgive me for getting my fix.

A big hand wraps around your throat while unforgiving arms form a prison around your body. He tilts your head back to face him, savouring your tightness, your suffering, and the strangled moan of pleasure dripping from your lips with his hips’ every rough throw.

“Always gonna belong to me, huh?”

His whisper settles over your skin, heightening that already-unbearable bliss. Your muddled mind and slackened mouth scramble to form words beyond full full full, yes yes yes.

“F-fuck you, Peña—” you spit through clenched teeth, squeezing your eyes shut in concentration. You fingertips grow sore, pressed to bruise along his forearms. “You’re worse than me—you-you know it.”

Javi responds with a tightened grasp and diligent, skilled digits falling to manhandle your clothed breasts. “Yeah, fuck you, too—” and it’s strained, etched with long-awaited relief, “—fuckin’ spoiled—jealous brat.”

An all-encompassing jolt to your system — he’s found that aching bundle. He carves words into your sensitive clit: you were never going to be anything but mine, mine, mine. The arch in your spine deepens; the back of your head falls helplessly against his collarbone. And despite yourself — despite his venom — you grin, catching the broken hallelujah underpinning every vowel, every touch of his desperate, repressed desire.

It’s a symphony you both sing, a thought hanging so heavy in the room it almost becomes a tangible part of your filthy entanglement.

“If I can’t have you, baby, no one else in this world can.”

—

#javier peña x you #javier peña smut #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña #javier pena x you #javier peña x female reader #javier pena smut #javier peña narcos #javier peña fic #javier pena x y/n #javier peña x y/n #narcos fanfiction #Pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal x you #em’s answering machine <3

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