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effortandmore · 1 year

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you, after all | knj x reader (18+)

summary: your break up hadn't been angry or contentious. he wanted to go, you never asked him to stay. it was simple, really. but when namjoon shows back up after three years, things don't seem so simple anymore

pairing: namjoon x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: exes to lovers, smut, fluff (because of who i am as a person)

warnings: smut, a little swearing, here are the specific smut tags: kissing, penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, maybe a whisper of a hand job, namjoon has a big dick (i had to)... it's really pretty soft—they're just in love without saying so

word count: 6.8k

a/n: i haven't been able to write the things i need to write (sorry jin and yoongi), so here i am with some namjoon fluff & smut. thank you, as always, to @ugh-yoongi who is helpful and kind with reading these things. apologies for the banner quality; idk how to make it look nice on tumblr. this is posted to ao3 here if you like to read fics there.

There’s this thing about awkward silences—they’re not inherently awkward because of the absence of sound, they’re awkward precisely because you become acutely aware of every little sound around you that isn��t the one you were expecting or wanting to hear.

The tap of his heel against the floor, muted by the thin cork flooring and then enhanced again by the way the fabric of his jeans whooshes when he jiggles his knee. The almost white-noise din of the other conversations around you, loud enough that you can pick out words but not meaning. The tinkling of silverware and chopsticks on ceramic and glass as people (including you) swallow things they think to say down with some glass noodles or spoonfuls of soup.

No, you decide. Awkward silences are anything but quiet, they’re terrifyingly fucking loud.

“So…” you finally start, “are you going to tell me what you’re actually doing here?”

Namjoon looks up from his food at you as you speak, his eyes wide like they get when he’s been startled out of some (probably depressing) train of thought, eyebrows raised in crescents that sit like shadows above the rim of his glasses. Noodles trail out of his lips and hang there, resting on his chopsticks, waiting for him to act.

It’s a perfect visual representation of the pause you feel in your whole body waiting for him to respond. Maybe somehow you are like a noodle, you think.

You try not to laugh at the thought because you know it will send him back into some sort of overthinking spiral of dismal self-worth. You know he’ll think you’re laughing at him. Sometimes, back then, you were. But not usually.

(And he’s not the only one prone to existential crises.

Perhaps that’s why you two had always gotten on so well. You’ve had plenty of time to think about how the two of you started and stopped, and being aligned in this sort of… well, thoughtfulness is maybe a generous way to put it… being alike in that way a little bit probably drew you together as much as it split you apart. One overthinker is enough for any relationship. Two is… two is probably one too many).

With a slurp, he sits up and sets his chopsticks down. He’s still regarding you, his eyes haven’t left your face, you’re pretty sure. But now, it’s with the careful consideration he’s known amongst your friends for, not the surprise you clocked on him a moment prior.

He’s still fidgeting. You can feel the vibrations of his legs when they brush the underside of the table because he’s too tall to keep his limbs to himself and too polite to stretch them out in a violation (would it really be? You’re not sure) of your space. For a moment, you think it’s out of character, and then you start to recall every difficult conversation you’ve ever had with this man in front of you. The way he would twist up his face into a scowl almost involuntarily, the pulling on his hair, the crumpling up of whatever paper was in reach, the peeling of countless labels off of beer bottles… No, you decide, the fidgeting is perfectly in sync with what you know of Kim Namjoon when he thinks he’s going to say something someone doesn’t want to hear (and also when someone’s telling him something he doesn’t).

If you didn’t know him as well, you’d think he was stalling. Or unsure of himself. And he might be those things to some degree, but this version of him, you’re sure, is trying to figure out how to say what he wants to say in a way that you’ll accept.

The problem is, you’ve been broken up for almost three years. You’re not sure what he could say that would even affect you like that any more.

So, this is all a little frightening, this awkward loud silence between the two of you.

You point the blunt end of a chopstick at him. “Joon, just spit it out. We haven’t seen each other in ages, I don’t want to waste this watching you think.”

At that, he grins, and at least some of what you loved about him rears its head. He’s gorgeous when he’s happy—it’s contagious, too. His dimples appear, his cheeks push up into his eyes and his lips spread so wide they almost cover the span of his face. He’s really, truly beautiful like this, and when you see it now for a split second, you’re reminded of how much you used to love making him smile, how much pride you took in being the one who could almost always make him laugh.

“Sorry,” he mutters as his grin turns from bright to sheepish. “You know how I can be.”

That, you certainly do.

“Well, you said you wanted to catch up, and we’ve done that, so now are you gonna tell me what you’re doing back here?”

“I’ve been thinking,” he says, eyes dropping down to his bowl.

“Uh-oh.” You mean it to tease, not to be cruel, but his face falls a little anyway. You suppose it’s two sides of the same coin—being able to make him laugh and having enough influence to disappoint him with your words… they’re essentially the same thing and you know it. “Sorry,” you add, tapping his foot under the table with yours. “I was just teasing… Trying to make this less weird, I guess.”

“It was never weird with us, was it?” He’s asking you, for what you’re not sure. Reassurance? Absolution?

“No,” you reply softly. “It was a lot of things with us, but it was never weird.”

And it wasn’t. Not when you fought about stupid shit late-night in the kitchen of your crappy apartment. Not when he took off to the city to do “big things” after uni and you just sort of… let him go. Not when your friends “didn’t take sides” but took careful measures to not invite you to the same parties, and not when he called you earlier today, totally out of the blue, telling you he was around and he wanted to see you.

In order, it was frustrating, disappointing, lonely, and surprising, but none of it was weird. Not weird standing in his empty living room, leaning against a stack of his moving boxes and watching him pack the last of his belongings into a duffel. Not weird to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you as he fucked you into the mattress that last night before he left, whispering that he loved you and needed you. Not weird after, when you spilled tears on his chest and told him you were scared for what life would be like without him while he ran fingertips up and down your spine and reassured you that no matter what, you were going to have an incredible life.

It wasn’t weird when the next morning, he promised you’d always be friends.

It wasn’t weird when you both eventually stopped texting.

It wasn’t weird when he never came back.

But now he’s here, sitting in front of you in the same grungy noodle shop you used to have your cheap college date nights at, and things are absolutely, inarguably weird.

Namjoon’s staring at you, still hasn’t answered your question, when the server comes with your check. He snags it before you can argue and gives you a distracted sort-of-grin when he gets up to find the cashier.

Everything about this is so familiar and different at the same time. In your past life with Namjoon, he’d never just leave the table to pay with noodles left in his bowl, he’d never forget his manners and ignore asking whether or not you were ready to go. But him getting distracted by his own thoughts is on brand… So is the way he knocks over the cashier’s pencil cup when he tries to return the pen he used to sign the receipt. The most familiar thing is the glance he throws your way when he does it, rolling his eyes affectionately when he sees you stifling a laugh.

It makes your stomach tumble.

There isn’t a discussion when you leave the noodle shop, thank god. No asking if it’s okay if he walks with you, no awkward first date bullshit. Which of course there isn’t, you remind your nervous system, because this isn’t a date and it’s not a first anything really. First time you’ve seen him in a while maybe, but even that feeling’s been fading since you saw him through the window of the restaurant, sitting alone (waiting for you with his knee bouncing) at your usual table a couple hours prior.

“Why do you think we call it a pencil cup?” he asks quietly. You can barely hear him over the car that happens to pass as he speaks.

“Huh?”

“We always call it a pencil cup, but everyone keeps pens in them, you know?”

You smile softly in spite of yourself. “I don’t know, Joon-ah.” It’s a nickname you haven’t used or thought of in a long time. It feels too affectionate for what you are to each other now (you feel a little too affectionate toward him for what you are now, so you suppose it fits), but he doesn’t seem to notice, leaving you thankful for the universe’s small favors. “Humans are quirky. Language is worse,” you finish.

He hums in response. “You’re right. You’re always right,” he agrees.

Suddenly he stills, footsteps halting as he grabs your hand. The surprise you feel absolutely accounts (you hope) for the stupid swoop of your stomach; not the first one you’ve felt since the sun went down. “Can we?” he says, tugging on your hand like a ridiculously strong kid.

It takes a second for you to realize what he means, but when you do, you readily agree. “Of course we can.” You move first, pulling him behind you, and it’s not lost on you when you look over your shoulder that he looks happier than you think you’ve seen him maybe ever, and that you’re still holding hands.

You hop up onto the metal platform, letting him go, and he grabs one of the bars and starts to pull it behind him as he jogs. Your world literally spins. Arms out, you tilt your head back and puff out a long breath. It’s cold enough that you can see the smoky trail of it float above you, tendrils of steam looking like they’re curling around the stars.

With a thud, Namjoon lands across from you on the merry-go-round, sitting to face you, legs sprawled out in front of him. You sit, too, and the metal wheel spins a little more slowly with each revolution until it’s barely moving millimeters, all of the momentum from Namjoon’s effort petering out.

It’s weird, you think, that staring at him across from you, it still feels like the ground is moving.

“I left.” He breaks the silence with a simple statement and you’re not sure what he expects you to say in return, so you just nod. “But I don’t know why you let me.”

He doesn’t look at you when he says the last part, his head tilts off to the side and he leans it against one of the cold, metal railings. If he was anyone else, you’d think he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. But you know him, and you know he rarely says things he doesn’t mean.

The first response in your chest feels like anger. He left you after all. He walked away. Of course you let him, what the fuck else were you supposed to do? Beg him to stay? You were basically kids. You still are. He had opportunities, you had a sick mom… it wouldn’t have been fair to ask him to stay.

And then there was this: the insecure part of you didn’t want to give him the opportunity to tell you he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. That you weren’t worth it.

Maybe you should have taken that chance. You’ve learned a lot since then. Grown up and gotten more confident, surely. Made new friends, had other partners. “Lovers,” as Taehyung likes to call them (just to see you roll your eyes at him in response).

He keeps talking before you can let the angry thoughts have a voice. “I love being here,” he says softly, still not looking at you. “I love how you can see the stars, I love that the air smells better. I love the sea and the way it makes you feel small…” he sighs before he continues, “but I’ve been back for a week and I didn’t love any of it as much as I love this right now.” His voice gets quieter with each word. You barely hear him tack on, “with you.” You might even be imagining it, he’s that quiet.

It almost makes you sick to not know what he’s getting at, to wish he would just be straight with you. All of this nostalgia… what amounts to a recreation of all your college dates… It’s just so much.

“Are you pregnant?”

“What?” Namjoon’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his skull.

You let yourself laugh when you respond. “I don’t know! This just feels like the lead up to something big, you know? You’re pregnant, you have cancer, you’re moving to another country…” You trail off and then sit up straight, letting yourself get a little more serious. “What’s all this about? It feels like you have big news or… to be honest, it kind of feels like a date, Joon-ah.”

“Feels like a date good or feels like a date bad?” he asks.

“Feels like a date confusing,” you answer pointedly. “I don’t even know what you’re doing in town.”

“Can I walk you home?”

“That’s not an answer.”

He stands then, and reaches a hand out to you to help you up. You let him even though you don’t need it, and he pulls you into a hug. Tight against his chest, things feel a little less confusing and this seaside town feels a little more like home than it has in a really long time. It’s distressing how right it feels to be close to him like this, how he smells just like he always has, how soft his stupid sweater is under your cheek. You do everything you can not to nuzzle against him in a complete violation of any boundaries that both of you might have. It’s all you want to do though, and that’s disconcerting in and of itself.

“Yeah,” you mumble into his collar. “You can walk me home.”

You give him some grace as you walk, not repeating yourself for the millionth time with your request to know just exactly what he thinks he’s doing crashing back into your life with a half day’s notice. Then it occurs to you that he’s leading you home, which is fine except… you’re not sure how he seems to know where you live.

“Joon? How do you know where we’re going?”

“Huh?” He gives you a distracted glance like he didn’t quite intake your question.

“My apartment, how do you know where it is?”

“Oh…” His cheeks flush the prettiest rose color. “Ah… you were at that art show in the city a few nights ago, right when I got to town, and Tae invited everyone over. We’d been drinking and the bar was closing and he said you wouldn’t be there…” He gives you a pained sort of smile. “He said you wouldn’t mind. Said you’d be staying with friends.”

The idea that your ex was in your apartment without you knowing it is… well, it should be infuriating. But it’s not. It’s more like you want to know what he thought, if he liked it. If it felt like the you that he knew or a new version of you. If it felt familiar and different at the same time the way he does to you right now.

“So… you’ve been in our apartment then…” It’s not a question, but Namjoon answers anyway, rushing the words out.

“No! No.” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t do it. We got there and I… It felt like sneaking around and I couldn’t do that to you. I went back to Hoseok’s and crashed on his couch.”

“Oh… okay.” You can’t figure out why you’re almost disappointed. “You can see it now. If you want. If that’s something you’d be interested in, you know…” The words spill out in a rambly jumble.

Namjoon stops to consider you, head tilted like he’s trying to listen to words you’re not saying. He must find whatever he’s looking for, because he responds quickly. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

“Okay.” You nod but don’t move.

“This is it, right?”

And it is, indeed. You’re standing in the middle of the sidewalk in front of your own building, too distracted by whatever this thing is with the two of you to notice where you are.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on up.” You punch the door code in and hold the door for him, bowing a little and giving an exaggerated gesture for him to enter to lighten the mood.

Taehyung, the world's most interesting roommate, is working an overnight shift, so you know he’s not home, but you pray he hasn’t left anything strange out in the living room. You’ve walked into your apartment to find it perfectly spotless except for a trumpet and a dildo sitting side-by-side on the coffee table before, and though you’ve never really discussed it for obvious reasons, you’re fairly confident it won’t happen again. But not one hundred percent.

“Tae’s working tonight,” you explain for some unknown reason as you unlock your door. It’s not like Namjoon is some third date here to fuck you for the first time, so it doesn’t matter if Tae’s there or not and he probably knows your roommate (his friend, too) is working, anyway.

“I heard,” he mumbles behind you.

To your extraordinary relief, nothing odd or personal is strewn around the living room or the kitchen, so you say a silent prayer of gratitude and slide your shoes off, motioning for Namjoon to do the same.

“This is it,” you say, in your most uncreative moment of the night. “It’s nicer than the last place you saw me living,” you joke. It is, though. Much nicer. Having Tae to split the costs helps, and your art has actually been selling for the past couple of years, so that’s afforded you a little more than the old studio with a leaky shower and what was probably mold around the windows.

“Mmm,” he murmurs as he looks around the open space. “It was nice ‘cos it was yours. It felt like you. But this does, too.”

“Water?” you offer.

“Sure, thanks.”

You fill up two glasses from the pitcher in the fridge and pad back into the living room where Namjoon is looking at the art on one of your walls. It’s a combination of your paintings and Tae’s photographs that the two of you thought complemented one another.

“Your art.”

“Yes…?”

“No…” Joon shakes his head and sets his water down on your coffee table. “Your art. It’s why I came back. That's why I’m here.”

“Oh,” you squeak. It’s not what you expected—you didn’t expect an answer to your question, and even if you’d hypothetically received one, ‘your art’ wasn’t what you’d thought it would be. “I don’t think I understand. You want to buy one or something? You can just have a painting, Joon-ah... Friends and family discount. You didn’t have to come here for that.”

He frowns and shakes his head again before he carefully takes your water glass and sets it on the table next to his. Then he reaches for your hand, and when you offer it to him, he guides you to your own sofa to sit.

This time, sitting too close like you were in the noodle shop, you’re the one who’s nervous. Something’s up with him, and you’re not connecting the dots.

“I saw your show. The solo one. Congratulations,” he says. His smile is warm like his hand that’s still wrapped around yours and it feels like you could maybe let your nerves settle a little bit.

“Thanks. It was a lot of work, but worth it. I’m still a little surprised at how well it was received.”

“I’m not.” He says it with conviction, and you love it. The hint of praise laced with his belief in you has always been a driver of your confidence; you don’t love that you need the external validation, but it’s nice, regardless.

“It reminded me of home,” he continues. “Made me sick for it. Like I couldn’t stand to be away from it for another minute. So, I told my work I needed some time off, and I came home.”

“Oh… Okay. Well, I’m glad you felt something… I hope being home has been what you wanted.”

“You don’t get it,” he says, frustrated. “I haven’t been home, not really. Not until tonight.”

“Joon-ah…”

“Please? Can I get this out?”

And there are so many things to feel, you’re not even sure where to begin, so you just listen. It’s not easy to ignore the feeling of being on edge, the idea that you think you know where he’s headed with this. Since you’ve never even let yourself consider it (you’ve really not let yourself think about him much since he left. Certainly not recently), you have no idea what to think. So you focus on him instead; the tendons that run from his hands up his forearms that you used to love to trace with your fingertips, the way he’s filled out some since you last saw him—his chest and shoulders are broader, his jeans hug his thighs tighter than you remember… He looks good. Great, even. Everything you remember but a little bit more. Like he’s become the person he was always meant to be.

“I’ve dated a lot of people since I left,” he starts. And maybe this isn’t going where you thought it was. You scoff involuntarily, and he rolls his eyes at you. “Can you just listen to me?” he asks.

You nod. “Sorry.”

“Not at first. I missed you. I couldn’t figure out why you never… I don’t know… Tried to talk me out of it, never asked me to stay. I thought it meant that maybe you didn’t love me the way I loved you. After a while, a few months maybe, Yoongi told me I was depressing to be around, that I should try and make friends, meet people. He reminded me that I was the one who left, not you. And he was right.”

“I remember,” you say. It comes out a little harsher than you’d intended, but maybe not ever letting yourself think too much about him (especially about him leaving) has left you with some unresolved feelings you weren’t totally aware of. Namjoon’s jaw tightens, but other than that, he doesn’t react. Maybe he knows he deserves you being a little upset. Things ended oddly fine between the two of you, it was amicable, but if you’d let yourself feel everything back then, it might not have been that way.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice softer now. “I needed to go, though. You know I did.” He looks at you, waiting for you to give him some reassurance you think, so you squeeze his hand.

“Yeah, you did, Joon-ah. It’s okay.”

His fingertips trace patterns across your wrist and you can almost feel his body get looser when you give the small peace offering. “So,” he says, “I tried. I met people, I dated people, I moved to new apartments with new roommates to new parts of the city. I tried to get that feeling back. Not to… I don’t know. Not to replace you, but to feel like I was home. But nothing worked. Nobody worked. And then I saw your show.”

“Oh…” It’s not much, but it’s the only thing you can think to say as he pulls you closer to him on the couch and runs a thumb across your cheekbone. It’s so much, it’s such a private thing for him to touch you like you're something breakable. Like you’re his, still. It’s making you short-circuit.

“Home,” he says in a whisper. “I needed to come home.”

“Home.” You repeat it like he’s taken all the words you used to know and pulled them out of your head to scatter on the floor in a mess.

His lips are on yours before you have time to process, and you hear a whimper that you quickly realize must have come from your own throat as he kisses you more tentatively than you ever remember him kissing you before. You know this is him testing the waters, giving you time to decide if you want this—sort of—and maybe this is a one-night nostalgia thing for him, or maybe this is what forgiveness tastes like, and maybe it’s a terrible idea, but Namjoon’s lips on yours feel like home to you, too, and you don’t want to talk yourself out of something that feels so fucking right. You didn’t even let yourself remember that you missed him until now, and your chest aches with something like longing even though he’s here, he’s real, he’s kissing you.

Kiss back, you remember suddenly. So you do. A slightly shaking hand moves to his thigh as you let him slip his tongue between your lips and lick into your mouth slowly. He’s firmer than you remember when you squeeze over his jeans and tilt your head to give him a little bit better access. The kiss, which started out so sweet, soon turns into something else entirely, and before you know it, you’re out of breath and letting out another whine when his hand drops from your cheek to around your waist and he tugs you even closer to him. You can feel him smile against your mouth when you pause to breathe.

“Is this okay?” he asks, cheeks flushed, dimples out, and hair mussed. He looks like a dream.

He looks like he’s yours again, and you want to let yourself have this, even if it’s temporary.

“Yeah.” You nod too furiously to even look remotely cool or in control of the situation, and he laughs. It’s not like he looks much better off with his swollen lips and the stars in his eyes. “Bedroom.” You’re up and pulling him up with you before he can argue, practically dragging him behind you past Tae’s room and the bathroom to yours at the end of the hall.

You move into your room and barely get the door closed before you’re being pushed back up against it, Namjoon moving his mouth down your neck, over your pulse point– all his attention focused on seeing what might make you shiver and whine. So much hasn’t changed.

It’s odd, you think, as he finds the perfect spot, to have to learn this all over with someone. Does he remember all your places and all the things you like? Will he still be patient like he used to be, content to watch you get worked up because of his touch before he lets you focus on him? Will he have new things that make him moan, are there new things he likes that he learned from someone else? All these questions float through your head as Namjoon slowly slips his hands under your shirt and pulls it over your head.

With your back against the wall, Namjoon drops to his knees in front of you and carefully unbuttons your jeans, slipping them down your legs with your underwear, groaning and face flushing when he finally gets you undressed.

“You… are… incredible,” he mutters against your skin in between leaving hot, wet kisses across your pelvic bone. “I’ve missed you so much,” he adds as he hooks one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder. His breath is hot on your skin and it’s like you can feel it everywhere—he’s barely even touching you and every nerve ending in your body is responding, wanting more.

As he brings his tongue to your clit, you let your head fall back against the door with a soft thud. He was always so good at this, he still is. His stubble brushes against you and makes shivers run up your spine. He’d probably not shaved that morning—you wonder if he did on purpose, remembering how you used to brush your cheek along his chin and tell him you liked it, how it made you feel soft and delicate when he wasn’t.

His tongue works you over in long strokes, dipping inside on occasion and you hear him practically whine when he really tastes you. There’s never been anything hotter, you decide, than his deep voice so fucked out and turned on because of you. If you could get off on sound alone for the rest of your life, that might be the one you’d pick.

When he finally slides a finger inside you, you moan—you’re so much louder than you’d meant to be, louder than you have been for anyone in so long, but he knows you. Knows your body, knows just how fast to move his tongue, how deeply you like to feel him inside you.

Namjoon’s lips form into a smile against you as he pauses, asking in a whisper, “Can I make you do that again?” before curling his finger inside you and taking your clit back between his lips.

“Oh, fuck…” you whine. And yes, the answer is definitely yes. “Keep going,” you say as he fucks into you, giving you space to roll your hips away from the door and into his face.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to come—Namjoon puts a large hand to your waist and helps support you as you tremble around him and your knee buckles. With a lot of effort, you ignore the quiet, private voice in the back of your mind that tells you that you don’t deserve this—that you shouldn’t be doing this, that you’ll get hurt again. Finally, your shaking subsides, and he moves your leg off of his shoulder and to the ground, keeping a grasp on you to help you stay upright.

“You’re… still very good at that,” you say breathily.

“Thank you. I’m pretty good at a lot of things, I think,” he says with a wink as he stands.

You love when he’s cheeky like this, confident in a way that you remember being one of his best traits. Like he knows exactly what he’s capable of. It’s the first time you’ve seen him like this tonight and it makes you ache for things you don’t think you can have, for the past. He’s suddenly close again, so fucking close, and you can smell yourself on his lips and you can feel that he’s hard in his jeans. He leans in, even closer, bringing his lips to yours but not doing anything with them, and running a single fingertip across your jaw to hold your face in place—no place to look except at him, square in the eyes.

“Are there things you’re still good at?”

Oh, holy shit.

And you’d remained upright this whole time, but fuck if your knees aren’t ready to give in now. You swallow audibly and struggle to form an answer in your post-orgasmic haze, turned on by the nostalgia and the way he’s half-whispering, half-rasping. The intimate way he speaks to you makes you almost drip again with desire.

“Well, if you’re not going to tell me, I guess I’ll find out for myself,” he says. Namjoon grabs your hand and squeezes, then leads you to your own bed. “Do you want me to find out? Do you want… me?”

It should be something you have to think about longer, should be more of a consideration. But it isn’t at all. Your head is bobbing a ‘yes’ of its own accord and you’re slowly unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his sweater off before you really realize you’re doing it, before you can think about what it might mean in the morning. Before he slips out of his pants, he pulls a condom out of his wallet in the pocket and tosses it on the bed.

The simple action has you a little nervous now, like suddenly this is real, and this is Namjoon, the actual love of your fucking life who left you, and he must see it on your face as you stand next to the bed, naked, facing one another, and unmoving.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“Yeah… I’m nervous. It’s been so long and it’s… you.”

Namjoon cups your cheek and brings his lips softly to yours. His other arm snakes around your waist and pulls your body into his—skin to skin everywhere, and it feels so good. His body really is different than you remember: firmer, broader, bigger, and you like it. It’s different, but just as good, you decide. Familiar and different at the same time, just like everything else about him. When he breaks the kiss, he finally speaks.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I do,” you say resolutely, convincing him and yourself at the same time. You bend over to grab the condom and feel his hands on your ass, so you stay, dropping to your elbows on the mattress, remembering how he’s always appreciated the view from that angle. “Do you still like it this way, Joon-ah?” you ask as you push your hips back toward him a little, leaning into the familiar to calm any lingering nerves.

And instead of answering, Namjoon slides his hands up your back and down your arms, pulling you up at the elbows and pressing your back into his chest. “Yes,” he replies. “But not this time. I want to see you, I want to know I’m taking care of you. I want to remember.”

He starts kissing you then, lips on your neck, across your shoulders, hands wrapped around you—one teasing at your nipples, one firm around your waist. You do feel taken care of, and it’s nice, you decide, to be with him again. This part hasn’t changed. You meant what you said—he’s really good at this.

Eventually, you move to the bed, and you become a little more brave, letting yourself explore his body. As you lay facing each other, you run your fingers along the ridges of the muscles in his abdomen, stroke his cheekbones, let one arm snake around his ribs and then fall to his ass. He really is firm all over, and you find yourself more attracted to that than you’d anticipated. You murmur appreciations into his skin, telling him he’s worked hard, that he looks incredible, that you want to take your time and appreciate everything he’s tried to build.

Namjoon watches you as you test the waters, carefully mapping the ridges and planes until you take his length in your palm and start stroking him. The first time he breaks eye contact with you is when you bring your other hand down and palm his balls, softly squeezing as his eyes roll back in his head and he lets out a long, low moan.

Maybe things aren’t so different than you remember, after all.

You touch and kiss and whisper until you know he’s been hard long enough and you’ve been stalling long enough, and his hand makes lazy circles over your clit, no problem getting you wet again. Namjoon rolls the condom on and pulls your leg up over his hip. He’s careful in a manner that’s completely him (but you’re no longer used to from your recent hookups) as he slowly pushes into you. And you’ve been in a lot of… positions in the last few years, but nothing quite this intimate: chests pressed together, arms wrapped around each other, noses touching, and Namjoon so deep inside you, moving so, so slowly. You’re almost not moving at all, and you had no idea something like that could feel so fucking good.

It’s slow and sweet, and he kisses and caresses you, and you realize that this is was what people are talking about when they talk about the difference between making love and fucking.

Namjoon is quiet, quieter than you remember, but the look on his face is reverent, like he can’t believe you’re letting him do this, like he can’t believe you’re real. And you know how he feels, and you want to reassure him and whisper how much you care about him and how you think you could still love him, but it’s all too much for the moment. So, instead, you just let out soft moans of approval when he rolls his hips in just the right way and otherwise try to focus on him and the way he’s making you feel, cock buried in you, better than anything has been since the night before he left all those years ago.

Your second peak comes steadily and seems to last a while as Namjoon whispers how beautiful you look and how lucky he is. The praise has you clenching around him and pulling his climax out of him, too.

You stay intertwined as your breathing slows, kissing and smiling with pink cheeks and tired limbs. When you’re sure you can move, you slowly push back from him and roll off the side of the bed, grabbing his undershirt. “You mind?” you ask, holding it up. “I thought I’d grab water and if there’s anything else you want…”

“Sounds great,” Namjoon replies, a sleepy smile on his face, obvious in his preening over you wearing his clothes again.

You try not to let yourself think too much about what just happened as you retrieve your water glasses and fill them up again. You find your phone on the counter, next to Namjoon’s, and you shoot a quick text to Tae telling him you brought someone home and you don’t know if they’ll still be there in the morning. You don’t want your roommate to be surprised by a visitor. But you know if Namjoon’s still there when he gets home, Tae will definitely be surprised.

When you pad back to your bedroom and click the door shut behind you, you realize Namjoon’s already fallen asleep, snoring softly. He looks ridiculous on top of your sheet with the duvet kicked down to the end of the bed, his big cock soft against his big thigh and his hair sticking up in fifty different directions all over your pillow. His lips have fallen open to let his stupid snores out, and you have never been more endeared to anyone in your life.

Like a thunderbolt, it comes suddenly, the realization that you think you probably never stopped loving this man.

You set the water down on your nightstand and crawl into bed next to him, careful not to wake him up, even though unless something’s changed, you know he’s a fairly deep sleeper. You pull the duvet up over both of you and settle into your pillow, thoughts of unresolved and maybe unrequited feelings still clouding your mind.

He wakes up enough to roll over and sling an arm around you, possessive in a way you like. You miss being his, you miss the quiet way he loved you before. All folded up love notes and kind gestures and small gifts for no reason. You almost let yourself tear up thinking about how big your love for him used to feel—maybe still does.

You’re fully spiraling, deciding this was probably a massive mistake, when Namjoon strokes his thumb over your stomach and nuzzles into the back of your neck.

“Baby? You awake?” he mumbles, half-asleep.

And fuck, you’ve missed the casual endearment from him. “Yeah.”

“Do you want me to go?” he asks.

And you know three years ago, if you would have said it, it wouldn’t have mattered. That’s the real truth of it. Because if you’d asked him to stay then, he wouldn’t have, and he would have been making the right choice to leave, anyway. So letting him go without putting up a fight was easier on both of you. It was the right decision then to not ask him to stay.

But now? Now, after tonight, you know things aren’t the same as back then. Some of them, yes. But not the ones that matter, not the ones you’re thinking about when you reply.

“No, Joon-ah… I want you to stay this time.”

You feel him smile against your shoulder and pull you tighter into him. Neither of you says anything more, and it’s only a few minutes before he starts his snuffling snores into your hair again. It feels nice, you think as you finally start to drift off. It feels like home.

#bts imagines #bts fic #bts fanfic #btswritingcafe #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #bts smut #namjoon #namjoon x you

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

Hii!! I have a request if thats okay, its kinda weird tho so if you don't wanna do it thats totaly okay<3

So i have like a really sensitive stomach so if i eat like anything greasy or a lot of one thing i get a really bad tummy ache, especially after supper like i don't throw up or anything im just kinda useless for like 2 hours. So the request is if you could do poly x fem!reader (or one of them, whatever you prefer) and have them comfort her and stuff? Maybe like cuddles and belly rubs? Idk

Thank u for excisting btw, you really make my day everytime you post<3

Thanks sweetheart, hope you like it :)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Remus knocks at your door tentatively. He’d known something was off when you’d left dinner early, vague about why you had to get home but urgent in a way that unnerved him. He’d followed you out of the restaurant, hoping to catch you in the parking lot, but you’d already gotten on your bus. Remus knew you were probably fine, but he couldn’t shake his anxiety about the way you’d left and he’d made his excuses a few minutes later, ignoring the jeering protests of his friends as he set out for your apartment.

After knocking again, he tries the handle, surprised and a bit alarmed to find the door unlocked. He calls your name as he steps inside hesitantly, wary of startling you if you’ve gone to sleep or have just gotten out of the shower (that’s something he’d like to see under more consensual circumstances). “It’s Remus,” he says into the dark apartment, feeling a bit silly. “Are you here?”

“Rem,” a soft voice comes from the direction of the living room, “what’re you doing here?”

He moves toward the sound. “I came to check on you. Sorry for just letting myself in, but you left dinner so suddenly and I…oh, sweetheart.”

He finds you on the couch, all curled up with your face pinched in obvious pain.

“Honey, what happened?” he asks, crouching beside you. His hand comes up to pet your hair of its own accord.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you say, the strain in your voice belying your words. “I just came home because my stomach was bothering me.”

Remus feels his brows pinch. “It hurts?” you nod, seeming embarrassed. He can’t imagine why, it’s not like you’ve any control over that sort of thing. “Do you think it was something you ate?”

You’re looking down at your knees, held tightly to your chest. “I…kind of,” you sigh. “This happens sometimes. Like, when I eat a lot of the same thing, or greasy foods.”

Remus nods thoughtfully. “So like, when James won’t stop piling fries onto your plate all night, and you feel like you have to eat them?” You look sheepish, and James is going to feel awful when Remus is through with him. He’s going to make damn sure nothing like this ever happens again on his watch. “I’m sorry, lovely,” he says. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

You hesitate. “I’ve got ibuprofen in the bathroom, but I haven’t wanted to get up. Could you bring it to me?”

Remus squeezes your shoulder lightly, standing. “Of course, sweetheart.”

He hurries to the bathroom, finding the small bottle of pills under the sink and bringing it back along with a cup of water. He shakes a couple of tablets into his hand, passing them to you, but withholds the water when you reach for it.

“Sorry.” He really is. “You’ve got to sit up to drink it, don’t want you to choke.”

You shuffle into an upright position, bracing your back against the couch with your knees still drawn tight to your front, and Remus hands the cup over. You swallow the pills with a light exhale, as if you’re already anticipating the relief they’ll bring.

“Thanks, Rem.”

“It’s no problem,” he replies, and he hopes you understand how much he means it. “How long does the pain usually last?”

You sigh. “A couple hours. I’ll probably just lie here and wait it out, I won’t be able to get to sleep until it stops.”

Remus tries not to pout at you, his heart aching with sympathy. “If you’d like, we could watch a movie or something,” he suggests, adding quickly. “But if you want me to leave so you can relax, I completely understand, love.”

You ponder for a second, your face still tight with pain. “No, that sounds nice,” you say after a second. “A distraction could help, and I’ll be more relaxed with you here anyway.”

Remus has to turn away so you don’t see the full force of his smile, occupying himself with your television. He holds up a movie for you to see, putting it in the VHS player once you approve. You waste no time in snuggling up to him when he sits next to you on the couch, and Remus wraps his arm around you happily, rubbing gently up and down your arm. You all but melt under his touch, softening against his side.

It’s a few minutes into the movie before he works up the courage to ask. “Do you think it would help,” he says, hoping his voice sounds at least remotely casual, “if I rubbed your stomach for you?”

You look at him in surprise. “Remus, that’s alright. You don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind,” he says, and he doesn’t. Even though he’s giddy from the feel of you pressed up against him, he’s not offering as some excuse to touch you. He just wants so desperately to help. Seeing you in pain is like a gut punch every time he looks at you, and if there’s anything that can make you more comfortable, he wants to be the one to do it. “Really, I just want you to feel better.”

“Okay, yeah.” You relax your grip on your knees, letting your thighs fall a few inches from your stomach and making an opening for him. “That’d be nice, thanks.” Remus watches your face, wary of any signs of discomfort as he brings his hand to your midsection.

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you at all, yeah?”

“I will,” you say. “But you won’t.”

Remus glows with your surety in him, but he’s still cautious as he draws his hand in small circles, gratified when you sigh. The movie casts blue light across your features, so he can see you a bit better as the crease between your brows evaporates, the tension around your mouth easing. Remus does his best to look like he’s watching the movie, but all his focus is on easing the upset in your abdomen, adjusting his methods any time you react even slightly in the positive or negative. Soon you’re completely molten against his side, blinks slowing as your eyelids start to droop heavily.

“Did the ibuprofen kick in?” he asks softly. “You look like you’re getting sleepy, dove.”

“I dunno,” you yawn, laying your cheek on his bicep, “maybe.”

Remus almost hates to suggest it, but he’s not quite selfish enough to keep himself from asking. “If you want to get to bed, I can go.”

“No, can you stay?” you yawn again, hugely. Remus tries not to stare, but you look adorable, cheek squished up against his arm and face soft with sleepiness. “Just until the movie’s done, please?”

Remus adjusts you against him, slouching so that you can lay your head on his shoulder without hurting your neck. “Yeah, of course I can stay, lovely.” He resumes rubbing your stomach, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

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gloxk · 7 months

Text

“Mary Jane.”

Gojo satoru ~

Summary: Your best friend was a snake. She slept with your boyfriend at a party. Everything shattered when you saw them. Your heart broke, leaving you with hatered and resentment. But two can play that game. Didn't she know? Karma’s a bitch.

W/C : 2k+. READING TIME: 10 minutes.

Setting: Modern Au, Reader is in their 20’s.

Song inspo:The best I ever had (Limi)/ Birthday S*X (Jeremih)/Drunk in love (The weekends version)/What you need(the weekend.)

A/N: Happy kinktober. It’s been a minute. (I've returned just for this years kinktober) idk i’ve just been busy fr. I haven’t been writing at all 😭. But I was on tik tok right, and i saw this lil video abt a story. So yall know those reddit stories? Bro this story was fucking outrageous, i tell ya. So boom bro got cheated on by his gf and she slept w his best friend. I was like damnnnnn 💀 ain’t no way. So bro turned around n fcked his ex best friends sister. The crazy thing is HE RECORDED IT. AND HE SENT IT TO BRO. I got carried away w this one. (I was high asf.) But anyway please enjoy! My grammar might be fucked up i didn’t feel like prof reading. Mdni/ageless blogs you will be blocked. 17+.

Warnings: F/M relations,Jealousy, angst if you squint, friend dumping, lewd behavior, DRUGS & alcohol. (mary J) mentions of Ex, BJ’s, Male receiving, unprotected sex (I got a little nasty w this one)

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You sat there disappointed in your dry phone. It was like looking at a blank screen. The night was cold, dark, and quiet. Everything was different now that you cut off your toxic-ass best friend. Deleting all the pictures and videos of you two. All the happiness and laughter y’all had shared just for it to be ruined in a few hours. The incident only happened a few days ago.

You decide to scroll through your alt account’s Instagram feed hoping to see something interesting. Something interesting indeed popped up. A little green circle around your ex-best friend’s profile picture. “Curiosity killed the cat ya’know?”, It surely killed you as soon as you clicked it. She was with your Ex. Your face scrunched in disbelief. You couldn’t help but muster up a pitiful laugh. What was going through her goddamn mind? Did she know the alt belong to you? Was the random pinterest boy profile picture not convincing enough? You nearly tossed your phone to the ground you felt tears bubbling up in your eyes. You remember the whole thing like it was yesterday. The horrible things you said to each other. But one thing she said in particular stuck in your head. “You aren’t even together anymore! Why the fuck do you care Y/n?”, Those were the last words she said to you, the last words you needed to hear to leave her alone. It hurt you so much, the girl you known from middle school betrayed you.

It was late maybe around 11 pm. Your mind was filled with anger. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. You told her everything and she did the same. You two grew up together. When you introduced your boyfriend and best friend they hit it off. They were so cool with each other that it seemed like a dream come true. Having your best friend actually like your boyfriend was extremely rare to come by. Your dream came short-lived after you found them fucking in a bathroom at a party. It hurt so fucking bad. You clenched your shirt trying not to cry. That night broke you, you lost everything in 4 hours. All it took was a couple of shots and one blunt to have your whole world crash. In a fit of rage, you decided to go through her entire Instagram feed. Scrolling through every single post. In a recent post from earlier today, you saw a dump of her stepbrother. All of the pictures were silly, cute pictures of him. You couldn’t lie, he was fine as fuck. You saw her stepbrother a couple of times when y'all were younger, but god did puberty hit him good. He was tall and muscular with a sharp jawline. He has white hair and beautiful ocean-colored eyes. He had a couple of arm tattoos as well. You sat there trying to remember his name. You looked over the caption trying to find something leading to him, the caption read: “HAPPY 19th BIRTHDAY @satoruxgxjo! I hope 19 treats you good lil, bro :).” That was his name! You finally remembered him. Satoru gojo, it was definitely moan-able. You DM’D him almost immediately.

(Y/n): “Hey! I saw your birthday was earlier and I wanted to wish you a happy 19th birthday!” You didn’t know what you expected him to say back to that. You didn’t know if you wanted him to immediately block you or text you back. Maybe if he blocked you would be able to move on and heal. But all you wanted was revenge. After two minutes you got a notification from Instagram. (satoruxgxjo): “Yo, I appreciate it. it’s been a minute. How have you been?” A smug smile arose on your face. You instantly texted him back. (Y/n): “I’ve been amazing. Recently I had just got some za from a friend and since it’s your birthday maybe we can roll up?” You watch as your text goes from Sent to Seen. Your heart immediately went faster.(satoruxgxjo): “Lmao? That was quick but sure. I don’t mind. Addy?” Your face was sinister. If he could see your face right here probably think twice about his current decision. You sent him your location, (Y/n): “I mean it’s not like we don’t know each other Saturo, just pull up :) We can catch up!”, You were so happy that this was gonna work out perfectly. (satoruxgxjo): “Who is Saturo? It’s Satoru* n I’m otw.” That happiness quickly faded into embarrassment. How could you forget his name already? You repeated it 10x to remember it, while repeating his name you quickly got up and rushed upstairs.

You dressed yourself in a loose shirt that hung off your shoulders, your chest was the only thing holding it up. Underneath you made sure to treat your guests to an easy reveal no bra and pink Victoria's Secret lace panties. Your hair was messy letting little strands of hair frame your face. You rushed downstairs to set everything up, you grabbed an open bottle of Hennessy and accompanied it with a jar of bud including a pack of Raw’s. Everything was set for the most part. You dimmed the lights and played some sensual music. You turned your TV on to some random Netflix show to make it seem casual. You soon turned your attention to the door as the doorbell rang. A wicked smile placed on your face, your hips swaying to the music. You opened the door and smiled at your victim—I mean visitor. “Heyy~.” Your voice filled with a welcoming tone. Luring him in like a fisherman. “Hey, Y/n.” He had a basic white shirt on, and his muscular body filled it out nicely. His lower half was hidden behind grey sweatpants, He had on white cross that were no longer white. His tall frame continued to tower over you. He sounded so nonchalant, but his blue eyes told a different story. He couldn’t stop looking at your bare shoulders. “Come in hun.” You moved out of his way and motioned him to the couch. The table caught his attention immediately. You made your way to the kitchen swaying to the beat of the music. “Henny? Whatcha got this for?” He picked up the bottle with an eager smile. “Why else Satoru?” You winked at him. Watching him open the bottle and pour himself a shot. “Well, Hopefully, it’s not for little ole me. God, you wouldn’t make such a silly mistake and give an underage boy Hennessy? Right?” He asked mocking you. A smug expression on his face. You couldn’t wait to wipe it off. “Oh of course not! I would never do such a disgraceful thing. But..I won’t tell if you won’t.” He threw his head back and he gulped down the shot of liquor. The burning sensation only made him crave it more. “You know I don’t kiss and tell.” He chuckled as he watched you sit down on the couch. He soon followed you and plopped down beside you. “You ever rolled before?” You looked at him as you picked up the grinder. “Nah, I’m more of a pipe or hookah person. Ya’know?” You giggled at him. He was falling into your trap without even knowing. “Lemme show you how to roll then.”. You took him through the basic steps. Letting your hands guide his. After a few attempts, he was able to get a good enough roll for a beginner. “And now ya gotta lick it.” You bent over his lap using his muscular arm to hold yourself up. You dragged your tongue over the paper making sure to seal it. You took the joint from him and began to light it. His eyes watched you dangerously. After a couple of pulls, you handed it back over to him. He pulled a heavy hit making him cough. You poured another shot for the both of you. Handing him a glass of liquor. “Oh? Is that for me? How kind.” Your hand sat between his thighs. “Of course.” He took the glass and knocked it back, and you followed his lead.

You weren’t slightly drunk nor were you high. But you couldn’t say the same for Satoru. He almost finished your bottle of Hennessy. His head was between your neck and shoulder. He was mumbling incoherent nonsense, you didn’t particularly care what he was babbling about. He was lying between your legs using your chest to keep him propped up. His hands rubbing your thigh, “Mm..please.” He mumbled desperately. “I told you not to drink too much Gojo. Now look at you.” You laughed as you rubbed his head. “.. I know. m’ sorry. Please y/n. Please.” You were confused you didn’t know what he was asking for to be quite frank. “You should get an Uber to take you home.” You nudged him to get off of you. He didn’t budge at all. His eyes looked up at you pleading with you. “I don’t wanna go. I wanna stay with you. lemme stay.” He was so whiny while he was drunk it was pissing you off. “Okay, you can stay.” He hummed softly in response. “upstairs?” You whispered in his ear, he nodded his head. You moved off the couch pulling him off with you. You walked him up the stairs to your bedroom. He was stumbling up the stairs you had to hold him up. Making it to your room in one piece was the hardest part. Opening the door his hands never left your body, If anything they became more needy. His fingers roamed around your back as he began to tug at your shirt.

You grabbed his hands telling him to stop. “I don’t know...if we should do this...I’m sure your sister wouldn’t like this.” You smiled as you pushed him on the bed. Of course, she wouldn’t like her brother sleeping with her ex-best friend. But that made it more exhilarating. Satoru groaned at your words. Bringing up what you and his sister had going on at a time like this was a low blow. “Don’t fuck with me Y/n. You’ve been touching me all night. Saying little shit to me. I’m ready now, and you’re gonna act like this?” You heard the frustration in his voice, looking down at his gray sweats pants you saw what else was frustrated. You laughed at him. “Oh look who’s mad at me. I’m just trying to respect you and your sister's relationship.” Your hands go under his shirt and rub his abs. He laughed as his arm covered his face. “Ah, so I understand why she called you a conniving bitch now.” Your smug face was quickly wiped with confusion. “Oh…Yeah? She gonna think I’m more than conniving after this.” You grabbed him by his hair pulling him closer. Your lips clashed against his, you could taste the intoxication on his tongue. The kiss became sloppy fairly quickly. His hands continued to roam over your back. He followed your lead not allowing your mouth to leave his. He yanked at your shirt, he wanted to pull it off of you. Sitting on his lap, you took off your shirt and tossed it to the side. His hands went up to cup your breasts. His fingers ran over your hardened nipples, his expression was darkened with lust. “So fckin pretty.” He sat up leaving kisses on your neck and chest. You assisted him in taking off his shirt and tossed it over to yours. Leaving kisses on his neck and slowly moving downward to his chest. Taking your precious time with him. He was so impatient, whining if you didn’t kiss him. You used your finger to trace his v-line teasing him enough to push him. You got up and slowly removed his sweatpants leaving him in his tight boxers. Licking your lips at the sight, it was a delectable sight indeed. Tracing the bulging print through his Ethikas. “Oh my god…” You stuttered in disbelief, this man was packing. Satoru felt you tugging his boxers, he lifted his hips and allowed you to yank them off of him. The cold air hit him drawing out a long sigh. Those blue eyes watching you with a dangerous glint, those eyes screaming out for you. “don’t play with me Y/n.” He whispered, almost as if he was begging you to make him feel something. You seated yourself between his thighs, looking at him with awe. Your hands running up and down his hardened dick. You gave him kitten licks on his tip, licking away any pre-cum. He growled at the teasing, “C'mon.” his hand caressingyour cheeks. You smiled as you quickly put your mouth around the tip and bobbed your head up and down.

His tip hits the back of your throat every time. Satoru’s hand pushed your head down so he could feel you deep-throat him, “Fuuucckk, just like that.” You pulled your head back with an angry expression. “Nobody likes a head pusher.”, You glared at him. “Nobody likes a fucking teaser.” He mumbled. You laughed at his audacity as if he was the one in control. You slipped off your underwear and climbed on top of him. Letting him slide in slowly, inch by inch. You threw your head backward, rolling your neck. Low moans escaped your mouth as you felt his hips grinning against yours. “Go faster.” His tone completely shifted from whiny and desperate to frustration. He wanted more, He needed more. It wasn’t enough for him. You looked so pretty going up and down on him. His eyes watched your body lift itself off of him and right back down. Your nails dug holes in his chest, “That fuckin’ hurts Y/n.” He gave you a sadistic smile as he dug his nails into your hips. You shrieked in pain. You could quite literally feel his nails penetrate your skin. That didn’t stop you though, you couldn’t care less about anything other than cumming. Your mind became foggy and filled with a certain haze. “Mm. Keep going. Dnt stop.”, Those words left Satoru’s mouth, his thrusts were sloppy and no longer had rhythm. His fingers found their way to your clit and played with you to make sure you came before him. Your moans filled the room as you were so close. You stopped as you finally reached the bliss you been begging for, panting heavily trying to regain the breath you once had. The feeling of warm liquid filling you was a slap in the face. You soon realized you didn’t use protection. You looked down at Satoru whose eyes were closed with a smile of his face. “Oops, m’sorry i’ll get you a Plan B in the morning.” His hand gripped your ass while you sat there in disbelief. How could you fuck up this bad? You smiled as you seen him cover his face once again, “Don’t worry about it. I have some in the bathroom.”. You got off of him and made your way to the bathroom.

When you came back you saw sleeping Satoru, under your sheets wrapped around your blanket. It was a cute sight to see him so vulnerable, you were about to fuck up his life. You crawled into bed next to him, cuddling him. He turned around and placed his head between your breast, his arm wrapped around your lower back pulling you close. You took out your phone and took a couple of pictures. This bitch was gonna know “Fuck my man, I fuck your brother.”. You unblocked her number to send her a little treat. “When Satoru comes home tomorrow tell him I had a wonderful time. (3 attachments sent).”.

You turned off your phone and cuddled the sleeping boy, kissing his forehead and cheeks. “Mm, she's gonna fuck you up when you get home.” You whispered in his ear. His phone was soon blowing up, From his mom and sister. “I don't care, you don't know how long I've been waiting to fuck you.” He muttered under his breath. You laughed, He wasn’t going anywhere. Not just yet.

#gojo x y/n #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #jjk satoru #satoru smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #kinktober

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bluerosefox · 2 years

Text

Danyal, Danny, Phantom.

Part 1 (Where the idea came from, very bare bones)

Okay wow, wasn’t expecting so many people wanting a part 2 tbh, also thank you for the follows as well (although IDK why you’d want to follow me, I’m random and rarely post sometimes.)

So before I get into this part 2, I just wanna make a few things clear.

I’m still new to DC/Batman most I know if from the animated series and I haven't seen it in ages, I have been able to get bits and pieces here and there though.

ANYONE is welcomed to use these ideas/concepts, just let me know, send me it, allow me to read it please. If anyone wants to draw some the ideas too that’ll be amazing, just let me know! I wanna see!

Also, I might, keyword MIGHT, actually write this idea into a story too, idk yet maybe. its been years since I wrote an actual fic tbh so I’m a little rusty. (You can actually see I used more of my writing style on this one compared to the last one tbh)

Also the reason I split these idea/concept into parts is the fact I tend to ramble and I knew if I wrote it on part 1 it would had gotten so long so here’s a fresh page with the rest of the ideas...

So the reason why I had this idea is because I read some fics where Ra’s always knows about Danny being either the Ghost King or a Halfa, or can fight him cause he has knowledge, I wanted a story where even Ra’s can be surprised and realizes there will ALWAYS be a ‘bigger’ fish even for that old ‘immortal’ (especially if Danny is Ra’s “failure of a heir.”)

Sorry this took a while, I wrote Part 1 at the end of me being sick by Covid, had to catch up on a few RL things, and legit a few days later my AC unit upstairs broke during a CA heatwave and it was pure HECK being in my room.

Danny is a little out of character but this is how I feel he'll be like with a year of being the Ghost King could be, along with the fact he has help from his friends and ghost friends as well. He's learned how to rule and has grown.

Oh be prepared, this is what happens when I’m allowed to ramble on ideas. This... This got rambly. (You should had seen this and part 3 together, it was so rambly)

So, a few things to note about Danny before we begin.

His name was is Danyal al Ghul (Wayne) Daniel “Danny” Fenton.

He was also known as (Ghost Boy, Ghost Child, Ghost Punk, Halfa) Danny Phantom

He also had other names as well such as The Great One, or Savoir of the Ghost Zone

But... for the last year he has been known as...

Ruler of the Infinite Realm, His Royal Highness King Phantom. Or as he would rather be simply referred to as (when he’s forced to have/use a title)...

The Ghost King.

...King Phantom also worked.

Simple yes, but Danny preferred it. (Again only when he’s forced to use a title, which sadly since being crowned the new King is most of the time now and only those close to him still call him Danny or at the very least Daniel (coughClockworkcough).

SO.... Its had been a year since Danny had been crowned the new Ghost King, sure he was still a teen and it was honestly very hard in the beginning. Learning the ins and outs of the royal courts, setting up his inner court (aka those he trusted), dealing with entitled nobles, and how to handle the the weight of the crown he now wore but he knew he didn't have to face it by himself. Well not all of it, there was a few things he did on his own in order to prove he's a fair King, but Danny honestly loved it when he could get together with his inner circle (more like family) and discuss the recent news of the Infinite Realm (which Danny learned was the actual name of the Ghost Zone, he long since switched to using that name over the one his parents coined), problems needing to be addressed, and upcoming important festivals or days (Danny knew of the Holiday Truce but he didn't know of any other Ghost holidays/festivals until his ghost friends explained them to him) along with a number of his Kingly duties. This was just barely touching the surface of what Danny had to do nearly daily and again it took a while but he eventually was getting the hang of being a King.

Funny enough one of those duties turned out to be healing the oozing scars the old Ghost King left on the Mortal Realm during his reign... because those scars eventually became the Lazarus Pits and had they been causing harm in the Mortal Realm.

By the Ancients, the Lazarus Pits.

That was something Danny hadn't been expecting to hear so soon after regaining his memories from before living with the Fenton’s. And when Clockwork explained it to him, a small smirk on the always age changing beings face, that all the Pits would eventually dry up thus they would no longer be able to revive the dead once Danny started healing them...

Danny had laughed when he had been told this information.

He laughed until he had started to cry. He had even laughed so hard he changed back from his ghost form to his living one and then back again because he lost breath from his laughter. (It actually concerned his friends, Dani and Jazz when this happened tbh) It took a while but when Danny’s laughter finally trailed into hiccups, light coughs, and deep breaths, Clockwork merely floated over and asked with all-knowing smirk on his face “Quite done Daniel?”

You see the reason why this was funny to Danny was the fact that he was finally getting revenge on his ex-grandfather for... well for everything. And he was going to enjoy ruining Ra’s al Ghul treasured little Lazarus Pits with pure glee. The amount of pure joy he felt knowing this even surpassed his feelings for when he’s able to mess up Vlad’s evil plans for the month.

As mentioned before, Danny had no memories upon waking up in a hospital after nearly losing his life from wounds no child should ever have on their bodies. It wasn’t until the night after his crowning that as he dreamed of his past, it was in these dreams he had finally remembered everything. When he had woken up he had instantly went flying to Clockwork’s lair to speak with the time keeper, especially when he had remembered the last thing he had saw before waking up in the hospital.

[“Why?” that was all Danny would ask when seeing the ageless ghost, not bothering to say hello or even small talk like they normally would do, if he had been his living form he would had been breathing heavily from the speed he flown to get there.

“It hadn’t been your time, your Highness.” was the only reply before the ticking of clocks in the room filled the silence between them.]

He had been Danyal al Ghul, the second heir to the Demon Head Ra’s al Ghul, the League of Assassins leader and his grandfather, son of Talia al Ghul, and twin brother to first heir Damian al Ghul.

Talia, his mother, was a stoic woman. A true Assassin. Beautiful yet deadly. Someone Danyal could see now who would do anything to stay in power if he was to be honest with himself. But she did love him and Damian in her own way, only showing them this parental love when they were alone, away from servants and other assassin’s eyes. Some of his fondest memories of the woman had been her cupping his face and speaking softly of how much he looked like her “Beloved”, their father. His eyes, and hair (and his 'soft' heart) were the only things he knew about his father, the only thing he has been allowed to know.

Damian, his twin brother, both of them mostly sharing the same face with small differences and build at the time, his other half, the one that he had came into this world together had, was, is the one Danyal would die for. And he did. His brother was the prefect heir, the prefect budding assassin in the eyes of the others in Nanda Parbat. Much like their mother he tended to try to hide his emotions behind an emotionless mask, he always carried himself stronger than Danyal would, despite them both being five years old they had been born into this life and learned very quickly how to survive that place. But behind closed doors the two would often talk in whispers, of the what ifs of their lives, how their day was, etc etc. Danyal’s fondest memories of his brother was them sneaking out to watch the stars late at night and making a promise to always face any problem together as they held hands and lightly tapped each with their fingers.

His grandfather, Ra’s however was a ruthless and cold man. An ‘immortal’ due to the Lazarus Pits that always brought him back to life, and he had always hated Danyal. No matter what Danyal would do it was always a failure to his grandfather, it didn’t matter if he tried his hardest to be a ‘perfect’ little assassin like his brother, everything he did in the older man’s eyes was a mistake. Any mistakes Danyal did was often met with punishment and pain. He had no fond memories of the man, only a deep seeded mutual dislike if anything.

And it was with this hatred for Danyal, that had caused Ra’s to summon both his grandchildren one night to the combat room and demanded for them both to fight for heir ship. A fight that would end in one of them dying, something all of them in room knew it would lead to. A fight two five years did not want to do but had no choice. Not even Talia’s disbelieving single protest to the fight could not stop Ra’s command.

As the Demon Head, his word was law.

In the end, Danyal couldn’t wouldn’t harm his brother (his grandfather always hated how ‘soft’ his heart was, "to much like his father" was often said with a tsk). They were both only five years old, they were brought into the world together, they told secrets behind closed doors and whispered dreams under the endless sea of stars they would sneak out to see, they would lightly tap messages with their fingers when the other would have bad days and didn’t wish to speak about it but wanted some sort of comfort.

He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t harm his brother but Damian... Danyal knew Damian would follow the order to fight despite not wanting to as well, Damian always followed orders with little to no fuss unlike Danyal who always second guessed with whys and questions, Danyal also knew Damian would believe he would fight back in defense at least...

But he didn’t.

Some of the few things he remembered was Damian’s eyes widen in horror, his mother’s uncaring mask and body twitch for a moment, and his grandfather ‘tsking’ at him before he fell onto the cold stone floor. After that his memory became hard to remember, foggy but he knew of this.The pain he felt hurt and he tried so hard to stay alive for a few moments more, he could barely hear anything over his own harsh and deep breathing, his body felt heavy and his hands felt wet from the blood seeping out around him. Danyal could barely hear his grandfather’s voice, and could barely make out Ra’s leaving while his mother guided Damian out of the room, she did not look back and Damian moved like a puppet on a string being pulled away. Danyal barely registered hands lifting him up and carrying him out of the room, his vision slowly fading as he was carried in the dimly lit halls of his ‘home’. His memory became very spotty after that, barely noticing he had been left outside the compound to die and as he took in a harsh breath in an attempt to get air, he could hear two words as clear as day.

“Time Out.” and the only sound following those two words was the ticking of clocks while the last thing he saw was the always changing form of a ageless being.

After that Danyal would be found outside of a random hospital in America, far from his place of birth, far from his mother and brother, barely hanging as doctors rushed to save this five year olds life. He would awake weeks later, with no memories of his own to speak of, and then one night a strange star plush/pillow would be gifted to him with the name Daniel on it. He would be bounced around foster home to foster home after he was cleared to leave the hospital and the cops had no leads on who or where he came from.

Daniel would eventually meet Jazz at the park and later her parents and worm his way into their hearts, he would later be adopted by them and live a somewhat normal life (as one can be with ghost hunting parents but at least he got Jazz as an older sister, even with Jack and Maddie’s rather unhealthy... obsession with ghosts he knew they loved him)

Ra’s failed second heir was no more, his name and life no longer mentioned in Nanda Parbat, Danyal al Ghul (Wayne) was by all intents and purpose dead to the man and to the League.

Now Daniel “Danny” Fenton lived in his place...

Up until that fateful day when he was fourteen, after that he was only half alive and once again became someone kind of new. A halfa this time. Danny Phantom.

And who would had guessed (not Ra’s that's for sure), he later would become The Ghost King, the Ruler of the Infinite Realm.

So imagine Danny’s surprise when as he had left his house for school one morning, he may be a King but hey he still needed his education according to Jazz (and Clockwork), when he had been ambushed and attacked by some assassins from the League and knocked out... (Shush his own assassin training was rusty and he hadn’t had time to practice them too much, his last major battle had been that all out brawl a week before his coronation with him vs his enemies, fun times. He also rarely got kidnapped since his crowning, half awake due to his Kingly duties and studying for Mr. Lancer’s 70% final grade test (Fun fact I had an actual teacher who did this) that Friday and honestly Danny wasn’t expecting assassins from the League to show up since the whole being pretty much declared dead to them thing)

Only to later slowly wake up on the familiar rough stone ground in Nanda Parbat (the smell, the sounds, the stonework. He often saw them in his dreams and memories but knew it was real this time) his hands bound and his body aching from laying motionless on the hard ground for a while. He put on a confused look on his face as he slowly rose and groaned in pain as he subtly took a moment to look around.

Thank the Ancients Danny still knew how to fake an injury, and play dumb/confused from his time tricking some of the his more annoying ex-enemies? (Skulker, Walker, etc.) even though it had been a year since he last had to do so with them (besides Vlad, he’s still his enemy no matter what and still seemed really salty Danny was a King now and was treated like an outcast by most ghosts, none wanting to be the opposite side of their King so hey perks). It had been a good way to make them drop their guards if they thought Danny was still at his ‘weakest’ when they caught him by surprise. It still pretty funny when Vlad tries though, this act always catches that fruitloop off-guard no matter how many times.

It was a Lazarus Pit room judging by the smell/feel of it at first and later confirmed when he noticed the green toxic ooze nearby. Ugh just being on this side of the Realm and sensing that stuff was disgusting, it wasn’t as bad in the Infinite Realm due to the fresh and clean ectoplasm around it masking most of the bad smell but boy did it reek on this side.

Danny blinked a few times to sell his acting, whispering a confused “Where am I?” under his breath, and looked around before his eyes landed on someone in front of him and flinched back a bit, no acting needed this time.

Ra’s was in the room sitting on a throne chair staring at him with that ever burning hateful glare yet Danny could see another emotion, an emotion he was very used to Vlad having on his fruitloop face. His ex-grandfather had a plan and it was gonna be painful or annoying for Danny to deal with, he knew it...

And...AND was that knocked out Batman and Robin also tied up in chains and guarded by few assassins in the room as well?! WHY IS THAT A THING?!

-x-x-

Heyyyyy so... umm I decided to split it into another part cause it was getting mega long again when all together and I was like roughly halfway done with it and just... I wanted to write out so much, also Tumblr almost made me loose the WIP of this many many times so I’m being careful. Good news almost done with it (and it won’t take as long as this part did promise)

This is basically Danny’s side of things of being King, his inner thoughts, his past relationships with the al Ghul’s, and snippets how he had grown into his King self tbh. Probably didn't need to do this but as an old school writer I wanted to make a base so to speak. The best and fun part is up next. and to prove it, here’s the title and a sneak peek for it.

Summoning a King (Or alternatively: It was at this moment, Ra’s knew he F’d up.)

Yeah as said before it took ALL of Danny’s training not laugh in hysterics. Oh the irony. Sacrificing the Ghost King... to summon the Ghost King.... Danny honestly wanted to say something, the words on his lips being a sarcastic “You sure that's gonna work out for you, you moldy old fruitloop?” but Danny bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from doing so.

TAGLIST:

Also I’m starting a tag list so if anyone wants on it for the next part please let me know asap so I can add you.

[EDIT: Taglist now closed until next update! Sorry!]

@sxnkisses @thenerdycupcake @sealover89 @remydumb @moonscat @fuck-you-too-world @hecate-hollow @ae-vixrose

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kryptonitejelly · 2 years

Text

Flyboy (Part 6) | Jake Seresin x Reader Top Gun: Maverick - Jake Seresin x Reader Genre: romance; fluff; angst; best friends to lovers Warnings: tw: food / eating (one mention of the phrase “you are eating too little”); general hangman being hangman; sexual tension; general cursing; will contain mentions of a break up / previous relationship; general use of pet names; fem!reader; pining; general naval / flying inaccuracies; geographical inaccuracies. Length: Mini-series, chaptered - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Epilogue

Summary: Jake gets called back to TOPGUN the same time you’ve been granted a sabbatical from work. He invites you, his purely platonic best friend of years, to live with him for 6 months and you accept. Just two best friends kicking it back for 6 months in San Diego, Fightertown USA, right?

A/N: Well, Part 6 is here……. I don’t know what to say; but I teared writing this at some point, and I am insanely nervous (Idk why) about posting this, so please let me know your thoughts? We still have the Epilogue, so this baby is not done. I have blurbs / one shots / Flyboy asks that will follow - I’m not sure if the taglist wants to be tagged in the blurbs / one shots that are original (i.e. not asks), please let me know?

As usual, THANK YOU ALL <3 for loving Flyboy, I LIVE for your comments, tags, reblogs, and it has been an utmost pleasure reading them. KISSING EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU.

Flyboy | Mini-Series Masterlist (If you haven’t already seen them - blurbs and asks (one-shots coming soon) are also listed on the Flyboy masterlist!)

Flyboy - Part 6

PART 5 <<

Approximately 6.4k words

“Sooo,” the sound of Phoenix’s voice catches you off guard, and you jump as you straighten up from the bend you had been in, in your attempt to reach towards the back of Penny’s fridge to grab four bottles of beer, spinning around to face her.

“I didn’t even hear you come in.” You say, and she smiles, almost too sweetly as she helps you shut the fridge grabbing two of the beer bottles you had wedged between the fingers of one hand from you.

“You and Hangman,” she says pointedly, staring intently at you.

“What about it?” You question, trying to be as casual as possible, while you pull open one of Penny’s drawers, searching for a bottle opener.

“Is something going on,” she leans against the counter of the kitchen, forcing you to look directly at her. Truth to be told, you and Jake had hid it pretty well. Perhaps not to Penny, Mav, or any other third party who saw you both together, but to the clueless bunch of Naval Aviators who, despite being the few to spend the most time with you both, had not made much of it.

The physical tells were something they hadn’t made much of to begin with, a sure result of having seen Jake flirt his way through too many women and situations over the years. However, the near fight at The Hard Deck where they had seen him at his most protective ever, pure, white hot rage radiating off him - only for you to dispel it so easily, coupled with the subtle, but sure shifts in Jake’s demeanour, had started to arouse suspicion.

“I’ve never seen him like this before,” she continues.

In all the years since she had known Jake, Phoenix had never seen him this way - more at ease, more open, happier. It wasn’t to say that his personality with the rest of them had changed drastically, Jake Seresin, was still very much Hangman, boisterous, confident, cocky (particularly in the air), always ready for a challenge, to show and tell that he was better than you, and to say whatever the hell he wanted, but he was also different, somehow happier, with the undercurrent of an unobvious calm and peace to him that they could just feel. It was unnerving to say the least, because it wasn’t something they had seen before, were used to, or had ever known Jake to be.

Bob had noticed it first, the Monday after the week Jake had cancelled fried chicken Friday, after days of sharp but silent observation. It had resulted in Bob telling Phoenix, who then told Rooster, who had went on to relay the message collectively to Coyote, Payback and Fanboy. A group decision was made one afternoon by way of a show of open hands or fists, resulting in Phoenix being the chosen messenger to broad the subject with you.

The difference in Jake had managed to be both outwardly noticeable, and yet not, all at the same time. On the surface, Jake was still Jake, swagger in his step when he walked around TOPGUIN, extolling his own virtues, taking little joking digs at all of them when he could, particularly when they were in the air - “C’mon Rooster, thought the chicken finally learnt to fly.” / “Trace, what does the baby on board in your backseat see?” / “Try to keep up Trace.” / “Aaand, the Relic is off the ground, that ladies and gentleman is called a Pete Mitchell” / “Payback? You mean the thing you can’t dish?” - but come dinner, when they had trooped back home and to you, Jake was somehow different.

The comments were still there - “Sorry boys and girls, I know it must be tough trying to match up to me.” / “Like how Trace and her baby on board fumbled today.” / “Thought Bradshaw was trying to hatch some eggs with the amount of time he was nesting.” / “Garcia and Fitch are always just taking it.” - but at the same time, Jake’s smile was wider, genuinely hitting his eyes and making his greens sparkle; his laugh louder, natural with nothing held back; his body language more open, any tension that he held during the day seemingly having melted away.

More importantly, as they had all come to notice, Jake never left you behind - whether it was purposefully falling behind everyone to bring up the rear just so he could fall in step with you; watching you out of the peripherals of his eyes the moment you left his side at The Hard Deck, right up to the moment you returned just to make sure that you weren’t waylaid by unwanted attention; or even the simplest act of making sure your order never got lost among the barrage of orders of the group; or that you were never cut out, lost or disengaged in the conversation when it dragged on to more Navy-orientated topics which you weren’t as familiar with.

Sure, Pheonix and Bob had caught sight of you and Jake running around the compound one Saturday afternoon, with him sprinting ahead in the last stretch in absolute glee, you yelling at him while trying to catch up, leaving you, quite literally, behind and in his dust - but even then, they had seen with his own eyes, Jake Seresin standing at the finish point, eyes fixed solely on you, waiting for you to meet him, as you yelled and protested your way to the end.

You pull the bottle opener out from the drawer, popping open the caps of the bottles in her hands, and then in yours, before dropping it back, and pushing the drawer shut with a hip. You beckon to Phoenix to exit back out into Penny’s backyard with you to rejoin the group and she follows, her question still hanging in between you both.

You step back out into Penny’s backyard, the cool evening air hitting your skin, your eyes meeting briefly with Jake’s as he looks up in the middle of his conversation with Rooster.

“You’ve only seen Hangman before,” you finally say, you both still out of earshot from the group, before you take a few steps towards the table, “now you get to see Jake.”

She opens her mouth to push her question again, determined to draw out a clear answer or confession from you, only for Jake’s voice to cut in above the chatter, making Rooster turn his neck to glance at the both of you as you return.

“Trace, you got that dog with a bone look on your face,” he starts, “do I have to take you out for harassing my girl?” Jake’s voice is loud enough that it carries across the table, pausing the chatter among the group for a second.

You feel your face heat as you hand a beer bottle off to Bob who receives it with a “thanks”, as he exchanges a look with Fanboy who is seated across the rectangle shaped table, before you settle back into the chair flanked by Jake, and Coyote who is waggling an eyebrow at Payback.

You see a smug, triumphant grin on Phoenix’s face, her question finally answered, as she hands one of the bottles to Rooster before sliding back into her seat beside him.

“Finally,” Penny breaks the moment of silence, throwing up her hands at the confirmation of what she knew, but had been waiting for, for the longest time, Amelia grinning wildly beside her.

“Hear, hear.” Mav raises his beer, to which Bob also does, and the group follows, cheers erupting from Penny’s backyard.

The attention makes you groan, and you hide your face in your hands, turning your body into Jake’s. You had talked about it after the other night at The Hard Deck, and had decided that it was time for the rest to know, directly from you both. You can hear the rumble of his own laughter in his chest, Jake clearly unfazed and not the slightest bit embarrassed at the attention, as he snakes an arm around your shoulders, securing you against him. It only makes the cheers louder, with Coyote sending a loud wolf whistle your way.

“Uncle Jake!” The roar of a little voice greets you both as you step through the doors and into the lobby of the hotel. You see a small blonde head sprinting at top speed towards you both, barrelling itself into Jake’s arms which had opened just in time to catch him.

“All this excitement just for me?” Jake exclaims back as he swings his nephew, Kyle, around in the air, before squeezing him tightly against his chest, only for the little boy to squirm in delight.

You see Emma, Jake’s older sister approach, her husband, Liam, and toddler Layla, approach.

“Full attire, really, Jake?” She scoffs taking in Jake’s uniform, but clearly teasing, as she takes reaches out to hug you hello, before coming to a stand in front of her brother.

“Not all of us are on vacation,” Jake shoots back as he sets Kyle down on his feet, before the siblings embrace each other, “some of us still have to work.”

“You only wear it for the looks you get,” Emma retorts with a snort, but being well aware that he had just come from work, as Jake and Liam thump each other on the back in a hug, before Liam reaches out to hug you hello as well.

“Well you gotta agree, I look good.” Jake smirks, not missing a beat, while bending to pick Layla off the ground, hoisting her in an arm and tickling her belly, the toddler shrieking with glee. “Can’t deprive the world of all this now, can we?” He coos the question at Layla who only giggles, patting her uncle’s cheek with her hand.

“I don’t know how you put up with him,” she looks at you as you ruffle Kyle’s hair in a hello, the boy beaming up at you, before slipping his hand into yours, tugging you around in a circle in his excitement.

“None of us do,” the familiar voice of grandma Doris interjects as she and Grace Seresin née Walton, walk into view.

“She’s too sweet to be putting up with your brother,” Grace chimes in, with a glance to her son, who just shrugs, a lazy, self-assured smirk plastered to his face.

Emma tugs Kyle out of your hands, for grandma Doris and Grace to greet you with hugs of their own, before they move onto Jake, who embraces them each with an arm, Layla still nestled happily in his other, her head resting between the crook of his neck, thumb now in her mouth.

“Thank you,” Emma grabs your hands in an exaggerated fashion, clutching them dramatically as she throws a look to Jake, “for putting up with my brother’s clown ass.”

The words coming out from Emma, a grown woman, with perfectly coiffed hair, and designer clothes and shoes that cut a stylish figure, makes you burst out in laughter.

“Just doing my bit of charity for the world.” You manage to say, before grandma Doris links an arm with yours, pulling you towards the door of the lobby, a signal for the rest to follow.

“I’ll cut him out of my will and put you in,” she tells you in a loud stage whisper. You don’t turn back, but if you did, you would have seen Jake grinning broadly, a fond look in his eyes, his niece still cuddled up against him, as he takes in the sight of you and his grandmother walking arm in arm.

“You know,” you turn to face Emma at the sound of her voice, clearly directed at you, “he cares about you.”

You both are seated at the end of a table, in the corner of the hotel lobby’, watching as the other members of your party are crowded around the massive cake display case to a side, Layla in her Grace’s arms, and Kyle in Jake’s, Liam and grandma Doris flanking them, as the children attempt to decide which sweet treat to pick.

“I know,” you say, small smile on your lips, as you focus on Jake, before looking back at her.

You and Jake had been mindful of yourselves around the Seresins, not because it would have been an issue, but because you had insisted on not wanting to overshadow their time together with Jake. He had tried to convince you that there wouldn’t have been any overshadowing involved, but you had, with a little help of your hands and mouth, had managed to capture his undivided attention, and be extremely persuasive, to which Jake relented. You weren’t sure if Emma knew, or suspected at the very least. You had always known her to be astute.

“He would probably kill me if I told you this,” she begins, as she leans back in her seat, folding her hands in her lap, “but slightly over three years ago, when you had told him about Dan, that guy you were seeing, he was noticeably…” she pauses, searching for the right words to use, “worked up.”

“I didn’t know,” you start, as you find your gaze wandering back to Jake who is now squatting beside Kyle, both blondes peering into the bottom layer of the display case. “He never said.”

“We were both home during that period,” she recalls, “and staying with grandma, and I found him in the gym abusing a punching bag. His knuckles were raw, eyes like a man crazed.”

She pauses, as you look back to her before continuing.

“I had Kyle with me, he was still just a toddler at that point, and it took him crying for Jake to stop. He told me, quite angrily I might add, that Dan wasn’t good enough for you”, she says as she unfolds her hands from her lap to reach out to squeeze your forearm, “and you deserved so much more.”

She meets your gaze, squeezing your forearm gently again, before adding after a moment of consideration, “I think he meant himself.”

Her words make your jaw slacken, your lips part slightly, as you remember Jake’s words in the car from the other day when he had only said “less so” since you had started seeing Dan.

“My brother can be a dick to a lot of people,” she starts again, a rueful shake of her head, “but not to you, never to you. He’ll never hurt you.” Emma says as she offers you a final smile, as you hear the voices of the group returning to the table.

“We got chocolate and a red velvet,” Jake says, as he slides back into the chair beside you, Kyle clamouring from his lap into yours. He finds you looking at him curiously, a strange expression on his face and he tilts his head to a side, asking silently if you are ok, before darting his gaze to Emma who immediately turns her attention to Liam.

You nod, with a slight tilt of your ahead, signalling that you are fine before you turn your attention back to Kyle who is describing to you, in vivid detail the chocolate cake that he chose.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with?” Jake asks you for the tenth time since you had both left the house, “you’re already in the car.”

“I don’t,” you shake your head as you watch him glance out the side mirror, checking for cars, before he makes the turn. “You should spend some time alone with them before they go back.”

It had been a Seresin filled week, with you spending almost all of your time with grandma Doris, Grace, Emma, Liam, Kyle and Layla during the days, with Jake joining the group only in the evening once he had managed to get out of work. He had however, managed to spend an entire full day with the group yesterday, a Saturday, which largely comprise of him and Liam, chasing Kyle and Layla around the beach, while you, Emma, Doris and Grace watched on, chatting idly.

Emma and her family had left earlier in the morning, but his mother and grandmother who had booked themselves into a later flight, scheduled only for the late afternoon, had asked Jake to meet them for breakfast.

Jake opens his mouth to say something as he glances at you, and you shake your head again, pre-empting his response, your tone firm.

“No Jake, they deserve your undivided attention.” You knew you were always welcome with the Seresins, but you had wanted to give grandmother Doris, Grace and Jake the time they deserved together. You hadn’t made mention of it to Jake, but had gathered from their previous trip to see you in New York (sans Jake), that they missed Jake more than they cared to let on. It wasn’t easy having a grandson and son far from you; what more one that was a Naval Aviator who could be deployed for 6 months, to an undisclosed location at the drop of a hat. You had missed Jake yourself, worried about him during his stints of deployment over the years, even if were both already separated by state, so it was easy for you to empathise.

The seriousness to your voice makes him shut his mouth, choosing instead to reach across the center console and place a hand on your thigh, fingers squeezing lightly in understanding.

“Do you want me to wait for you?” You ask, and Jake shakes his head no.

He had sent his truck off to the workshop, only to have it grounded for a couple of days. You had tried to strong arm him into taking your car, seeing that he was due back to TOPGUN for an afternoon of flights, despite having been able to wrangle a few hours off to spend with his mother and grandmother before they left, but Jake Seresin, if anything, was a stubborn man, who had refused, not wanting to leave you inconvenienced. You had both reached a comprise, being that he would drop himself off to meet the Seresins, and grandma Doris would get her car to drop Jake back at TOPGUN before she left. It wasn’t the smartest solution, but it was the most he would budge on it.

He pulls up kerbside, in front of the hotel his grandmother and mother were staying in and shifts the car into park. You both exit, and Jake waits for you beside the door of the driver’s side, holding the door open, while you step in and up into the seat and buckle yourself in.

“See you later?” He asks, a rhetoric question, but you nod anyway and he kisses you swiftly on the corner of your lips before shutting the door on you and jogging over to the kerb. You duck your head to peer out of the window on the passenger’s side and he winks at you. You press a kiss to your fingers, blowing it at him, and it earns you a wide smile, the sides of his eyes crinkling. You let yourself take it in, Jake smiling, with his hair combed back, uniform hugging him in the right places, before you lift a hand in a wave and drive off, thinking to yourself, god was he handsome.

“You’re eating too little.” Grandma Doris asks, eyeing the bowl of yogurt, and granola in front of her grandson.

“Don’t want to be throwing up mid flight.” He explains before popping the spoon into his mouth. “I’ll have more for dinner.”

She hums in acknowledgement, settling back into her chair, while taking a sip from her tea cup, eyes studying her grandson.

“So,” she starts casually, almost too casually for her, and it makes Jake drop his spoon as he leans back to take her in, “were you planning on keeping your poor grandmother in the dark forever?”

Jake knows what she is referring to, but opts for raising brow, waiting for her to elaborate.

“That you both finally became more than just friends.” Grandma Doris stretches out the word finally, and Jake raises his glass to his lips, but his smile is barely covered.

“What gave it away?” He asks, after taking a gulp of water and setting his glass down.

“You did be blind not to know,” Grace scoffs, taking a sip of coffee. You both had hid it well, but a mother always knew her son.

The relationship you and Jake had, was something that had always been special - he was more himself around you, more the Jake that Grace had knew, loved and known from the first day she had held him in her arms, and you, well, you somehow managed to tolerate him, during the good and the bad, accepting him for both his good and bad; but this time, this was different.

Grace had always seen a glimpse of something more in her son’s eyes when he looked to you, only when he knew that you weren’t watching, but this time - she had seen it in his eyes, when he had looked directly at you, and had seen you meet his gaze with the exact same look, of equal intensity in your eyes. She had seen the quiet, content, smile that flickered briefly across both your features, and she just knew.

Her suspicions had been confirmed the night before when Grace’s own mother had nudged her and motioned out the window of the hotel lobby, both of them watching, just in time to catch you run a finger over the the sunburn blooming along the bridge of Jake’s nose, laughing about something they couldn’t hear, to which Jake only reached out to pull you towards him, your face colliding with his chest, body shaking with laughter as he planted his lips on the top of your hair, while saying something that caused your shoulders to shake even more.

“Weeks,” he says vaguely, not bothering to count the detailed specifics, not because Jake didn’t care, but because he didn’t need to with you - not when he was sure you were his forever. He had expressed outrightly that you were his girl - because even when you hadn’t been, you had somehow, always been his in one way or another - and Jake hadn’t asked you explicitly, the question of “will you be my girlfriend?”, but it hadn’t mattered to either of you; the question seemingly unimportant and trivial, when you both already just knew.

Grandma Doris observes grandson from her perch across the table, the light in his eyes that she had always saw when he looked at you had finally come to the front, and it was dazzling. She places down her teacup, fingers of her right hand working to slide the ring she had the fourth finger of her right hand off. It was the simplest of the rings which adorned her fingers, a plain band, holding a single jewel, with the words “timeless” scratched onto the inside of the band, the engraving now dulled from years of wear, but still visible. She places it on the table in front of Jake, who looks down at it, and up again at his grandmother in surprise. He had never seen her take it off since he could remember.

“Give it to her,” she says simply, the implication behind her words clear - marry her. To anyone else, it might have been strange, but grandma Doris understood, it was Jake and you - she had watched quietly, as you both danced around each other for years. “There isn’t any reason to wait when you’ve already known something your whole life.” She say simply.

Jake picks up the ring, flipping it in his fingers, running the pad of his thumb over the engraving on the inner band, before reaching into the shirt of his uniform, tugging out the chain with his dog tags, before undoing it and stringing the ring on.

“Well, this is me,” Jake bends down and kisses Grace’s cheek while engulfing her in a hug.

“Come back home soon,” Grace orders and Jake raises a hand to his head to giver her a mini salute.

“Yes M’am.”

“Everyone misses you,” his grandmother says as Jake bends in turn to hug her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Your grandfather and father miss you.” His mother says, and Jake meets her gaze in understanding with a small tip of his chin.

Jake stands back, with a last wave, watching as his mother and grandmother enter the car, before the driver shuts the door.

Tash: Your man is an idiot.

You swipe open the message from Phoenix to come face to face with a picture of Jake and Rooster’s side view, each man decked out in their flight suit, sunglasses on their face, middle fingers flipped up at each other. It makes you roll your eyes as you shoot back a text.

Is Bradley an idiot as well?

She replies almost instantly.

Tash: The biggest.

You grin, shooting back a reply.

Lies. By the way, do you know what time you’ll be done? My idiot needs a pick up.

Tash: Come now, I’ll get Mav to abuse his “power” and sign you in.

“I’m not betting those 200 push ups today,” Fanboy’s voice crackles over the comms as the three planes, him and Payback, Mav and Jake push through the air. It was the last scheduled flight of the day, not entirely necessary because there weren’t any trainees scheduled into the slot, but it hadn’t stopped the four men from jumping into the plans to run the same training simulation of the day. Mav’s time old favourite, dogfighting - two against one.

It earns a laugh from Mav, and Jake snorts.

“C’mon boys, wussing out?” Jake drawls over his comms as he levels his jet with Fanboy and Payback, grinning out the window towards the two. It earns him double middle fingers from the duo.

“I’m not letting you hang us out to dry, Hangman.” Payback says disgruntled. It was undeniable that Jake had proven himself to be a team player from the uranium mission, but it didn’t change the fact that Hangman, being Hangman, still enjoyed blazing his own trail, particularly during simulations such as this where a run was just a run, and nothing was at stake. He would have them eating his dust whenever he could.

“How about a beer instead boys?” Mav asks, grinning lazily out of the window of his jet.

“I could live with that,” Payback jumps and latches onto the lower stakes, before clarifying the safety of his own wallet, “just among us four.”

“Game on,” Jake hooks his mask to his face.

True to her word, and you are not entirely sure how, Phoenix gets you signed into TOPGUN, meeting you at the guard house, and jumping into your car, directing you onward. She ends up leading you towards the control room, which she informs you, is filled with themselves and the trainee group today due to the afternoon long simulation flights they had been running. She scans her pass against the electronic lock and holds open the door for you while gesturing you in. You slip into the control room ducking your way past a few trainees, to come to a stand beside Hondo, who is flanked on his other side by Rooster and Bob.

“What did I miss?” Pheonix asks, and Hondo points towards the screen.

“They just bet Mav a round of beers if they beat him.”

“Do we all benefit?” Phoenix asks, hopefully.

“Payback made it very clear that it’s just between them.” Hondo grins, and it earns a dismissive snort from Phoenix

You can’t see the Naval Aviators up in the air, apart from the diagrams of little jets beeping on the radar alongside a counter, and a whole host of numbers you don’t understand; but you can hear them over the speakers in the control room, the sounds of breathing, and chatter.

“Where is he?” Payback asks.

“I can’t see him,” Fanboy.

“Probably hiding beneath us,” you hear Jake, “old man never changes his tactics.” He says, a jab at Mav, and the tone of his voice, makes you shake your head slightly; even you knew, to someone who didn’t know any better or who wasn’t used to him, Jake could very well rub people he didn’t know well the wrong way with his words.

You hear a set of three yells and curses, as Mav’s diagram reappears on radar, a set of numbers alongside the screen rapidly jumping as Mav angles his jet to shoot up between the other two.

“And yet, this old man’s tactics work every time.”

It earns a fist pump from Hondo, and you lean over towards the older man.

“Does he truly do that every time?”

“Works like a charm,” Hondo says, leaning back over to you simultaneously, headset still nestled in his ear, with a nod of his head.

“And they don’t learn?” You ask in slight disbelief at the fact that some of the best Naval Aviators in the country would fall for the same trick more than once.

“Kids,” Hondo laughs with a shrug and a waggle of his brows, and it makes you laugh out loud as you think back to a scene where you had been sitting with the lot, after dinner, watching them argue over which superhero, as portrayed in the movies, would come out on top, because you couldn’t agree more.

Jake hears it, clear as day, as he rights his jet, holding back on the acceleration into the planned tactic he was going to go into, even though it was just a soft crackle over the background his comms. He thought he had been dreaming that he had heard your voice, until the point he heard your laugh - he would recognise that laugh anywhere - your laugh.

“Babe?” He says into his comms, and it has Payback and Fanboy looking at each other within the confines of their plane, Mav looking out of the window from above, down towards Jake’s jet, the men all holding in the air, surprised at the sudden call from Jake. All heads in the control room swivel towards you.

Hondo slips the headset off his ear and passes it to you, nodding for you to take it, and you do, slipping it onto your own ear, taking a step forward, closer to the screen even though you can’t see him.

“Jake?” You say, your eyes focused on the mini green outline of his jet on the screen, his call sign flickering beside it.

“Yeah babe?” Jake says again, louder, more sure this time, his face breaking into a wide grin beneath his mask. In that moment, Jake feels like he is at the top of the world, despite having just been spun around in the air by the force of Mav’s jet - he is seated in a jet high above the ground, doing something he had willingly devoted his life to, with your voice in his ear at real-time, knowing that you were watching him.

“Give him hell.” You say, and you hear a roaring laugh of response through the headset in your ear, loud, open, unadulterated, genuine, every note of it being entirely Jake. It is familiar to you, but the heads moving back and forth in the room, eyes coated in surprise, tells you that it isn’t for everyone.

“For you darlin? Anything.”

It earns a whoop from Coyote who is standing to the right of the control room. Jake, who is up in the air grips his center stick, wide grin still on his face. He can feel the ring, dangling from the chain beside his dog tags, a cool circle pressed against his chest. He takes a deep breath.

“Alright boys, hope you’re ready, because Hangman’s coming.”

“Tone!” It is a span of mere minutes, where you hear a mix of shouts, grunts and yells coming from the four men in the air, before you hear a loud prolonged beeping sound, and Jake’s voice crackle over the comms, shouting out the single word with a whoop. It earns wide eyes from around the room, and approving nod from Hondo who is behind you, a “yes” from Coyote and a clap from Bob.

“Fucking Hangman,” is what you hear Rooster murmur from behind, clearly impressed.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Tash mumbles as she walks up to you, before clapping her hand on your shoulder. She knew Jake was good, heck - everyone knew, despite having only been selected as Dagger Spare for the uranium mission, he was the only one among them (not counting Mav) who had a count of two confirmed air combat kills, but to get tone on Mav, something none of them had yet to be able to achieve - now that, was impressive.

“Can we get her in the room everytime he flies?” You hear Cyclone mumble to Warlock from his position in the centre of the room, arms still crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on the green on screen.

It makes you smile.

You make your way down along with the rest of the group, the only civilian amongst the group of Naval Aviators, hanging to a side with Coyote, Bob, Rooster and Phoenix as the jets grind to a slow stop and into a park. You can hear the chatter of the trainees, standing around as you watch while the top of Jake’s jet pops open, before he hoists himself out of the seat, stepping onto the wing to hop down onto the ground.

Jake yanks his helmet off his head, and you see him, grinning widely, from ear to ear, his hair sticking up, a sheen of sweat across his forehead, in his element, euphoria unmatched. It’s infectious and you feel your face break out into a matching grin, as Jake begins striding directly to you, helmet in his hand. He moves like a man with a mission, focused entirely on you, and the smattering of trainees move to a side as he approaches, it being clear that he has no intention to stop for anyone in his way.

You see him unzip the top of his flight suit, and reach beneath the black shirt he has on underneath, fingers pulling his dog tags out before he tugs them over his head.

“Jake?” He is three steps away from you, and the group behind you has involuntarily taken a step back, not sure of where this is going, allowing you both your space, and then, it happens.

Jake drops his helmet to the ground, the object rolling an inch away before it settles on his side. You are forced to look down as Jake drops a knee to the ground. He leans his elbow on his other knee, which is bended, propped up by a boot that is pressed flat to the ground, and raises his hand towards you, fingers holding out a ring, still hanging from the chain of his dog tags, with a single jewel as the centrepiece towards you. You recognised the ring at once, having seen it as a permanent fixture on grandma Doris’ finger.

“Jake what are yo-” You start to say, but he cuts you off, answering your question at the same time.

“Marry me.” He says, a statement, not quite an ask as his eyes search yours, a smile, genuine, excited, earnest on his face. “Marry me, because I don’t want to have to spend another day not being able to call you mine.”

It’s a big ask, after only weeks, you both jumping the step where he had even asked you (officially) to be his girlfriend, but this was Jake, the man you knew better than anyone else; the man who you understood, and who understood you, without having to even use words; the man who you would do anything for, and who would do anything for you; the man you had spent the past few weeks finally getting it right with; the man you would say yes to in a heartbeat.

You search his face, his eyes now fixed on you, watching as you take it in, take him in. Jake has never been so goddamn sure of anything in his life. He had been sure the moment his grandmother had slipped the ring onto the table; sure from the moment he had kissed you at Annie’s wedding; sure from the moment he had asked you to come out to San Diego for 6 months; perhaps even sure from way before; but hearing your voice over comms, just your voice, pulling together his focus, grounding him, both literally and figuratively propelling him to greater heights, made him realise that he had already taken too goddamn long to do this, and that he would be a fool to wait even a second longer.

“I’m already yours.” You breathe out, pushing out the breath of air you hadn’t even been aware you were holding. It is enough for him, and Jake reaches forward to tug your hand towards him before he slips the ring on. It fits your finger like a glove, his dog tags still dangling from the other end of the chain still attached to the ring, like a part of him to you. He stands, holding your hand in his, pulling you close so that your body is flush against his. Jake smells of jet fuel, sweat and soap. He reaches up with his other hand, to cup your jaw in his palm, a thumb running over your cheekbone.

“Jake?” You say, softly, as he leans in an inch.

“Yeah.” It makes him stop, face slightly apart from yours, but so close that you can feel the tip of his nose brushing against yours, and the warmth of his breath on your skin.

“I love you.” You say out loud for the first time, and you see the wide smile break across his face as he presses his lips to yours. You love him, you’ve loved him, just as he love and has loved you.

“I know baby.” Is what Jake says first against your lips, in true Jake Seresin fashion and you can still feel his smile, as he finally says, “I love you too.”

You hear the thunderous sound of cheers in the background, the loudest coming from the group of Naval Aviators you had come to know and love. A plane flies past, roaring overhead in the sky, and you kiss Jake back, one of your hands still gripping his, the other on the back of his head, feeling the damp roots of sweat in his hair, pulling him into you. You feel like your heart is soaring, your flyboy in your arms.

>> EPILOGUE

Series taglist: @blue-aconite @rosiahills22 @luckyladycreator2 @britty443 @yanak324 @rule107 @fuckyeahhangman @spidey-d00d @dempy @barista-library @alexwinchester23 @shakira-sasha @bxwitched @lumenseal @obiwankenobis-lap @prettybiching @littlebadariell @actuallybarb @beaner-life-23 @coco-loco-nut @criminalyetminimal @tragzerus @alana4610 @tkmarvel-divergentbish @kilojulietsierra @imagineyneyjr @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ive-got-more-wit @fuzzy-panda @helloimhereforabit @meowimakellysaurusrex @t-rexs @iangiemae @shawnsthighs @cxit-writes @shanimallina87 @dempy @mell-bell @saynotononsense @justsplendidd @dont-talk-me-down @the-cranck-hobbit @blindedbyyourgrace17 @fandom-life-12 @bxwitched @indynerdgirl @hope-love-equality2 @fangirlofallthings22 @alistocats @callsign-marlie @bellamy1998 @slayry @bladed-planes @turningtoclown @double-j @shanimallina87 @chiffondaydreams @capswife @averyhotchner @unordinare @smokey102 @tallrock35

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holding-monsters-hands · 5 months

Note

hi hi idk how you feel about angst or hurt/comfort type stuff but if you’d be comfortable with it.. could i get a post about mercs caring for a depressed reader? like on a particularly “off” day? thank you and apologies if you dont do that stuff in advance im new here (ㆀ˘･з･˘)

Hi! i’m totally down for angst/comfort stuff! I haven’t been feeling very inspired as of late so this request speaks to me quite a bit. (I also just decided to do a handful of the mercs this time, hope that’s okay!)

Mercs caring for a depressed reader

Sniper:

He gets it, wholeheartedly. And you can most certainly expect him to have full empathy for you, with no room for judgement.

He’s had plenty of off days himself, he just happens to be really good at hiding it with his usual nonchalant attitude.

However, that doesn’t mean you have to have his shitty coping mechanisms. He’s a very ‘Everyone is allowed to have/express negative feelings except for me’ type of guy, which he knows is a bad habit, however he’s not gonna attempt to fix that anytime soon.

He’ll help by cleaning up your spaces, he knows that’s typically one way to start feeling like your old self again. But he’ll also make sure to get you food, something easy but also energizing. While also just.. being there, not forcing you to talk, but also not ignoring you.

Scout:

He’s so stupid, bless his heart.

But he means well, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do something to try and cheer you up.

He might end up asking his mom for advice, and then using every possible solution known to man just to help you get out of bed in the morning.

He’s going into this with a severe lack of experience, considering anytime he’s upset he just goes on a run until his legs feel like they’re gonna fall off.

Medic:

His first thought is to go through all the ‘fix-it’ solutions so he could get you out of your depressed state.

And while obviously he has good intentions at heart, it just makes you all the more overwhelmed and probably even makes you want to shut yourself off from everyone else even more than before.

So after some heavy chastising from Heavy, he tries a different, more gentle approach. He won’t try to bother you or pull you out of bed, he’ll just sit there or lay there with you. Offering a shoulder to cry on, or just to let you cry it out in general.

Sometimes he forgets how to comfort others, and how to be less analytical. And your off day was a painful reminder on how he needs to be more observant of the people he loves.

Heavy:

He’s spent the majority of his life with his three sisters and his mother, he’s probably the most in-touch with his feelings out of all the mercs.

You can expect everything from this wonderful, perfect man.

Freshly cleaned bedding, laundry, home-cooked meals, taking you out to sit outside for a while for some air, making you tea, etc.

He will never force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, but he will highly encourage you to do things he know that will help.

Demo:

He’s very similar to sniper when it comes to these situations, he completely understands what it’s like to be in such an awful slump.

His usual ways of dealing with negative feelings aren’t exactly.. the best, however: he’s gotten a lot better with confronting his emotions over time.

He’ll talk with you, give you advice, genuine advice coming from years and years worth of experience.

He also likes to just make you both some tea, and come sit with you in whatever space you feel the most comfortable in. Where the two of you will sit in a comfortable silence, drinking tea.

#team fortess 2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic

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neteyamsmainbitch · 1 year

Text

PROTECTOR —

‘if you’re scared, i’m on my way.’

neteyam sully x omaticaya!reader.

— you can always count on neteyam to get you out of tricky situations.

warnings: slight violence, probably a couple uses of bad language idk, fluff.

authors note: i haven’t posted in two months lol, this was rushed but i didn’t feel like fixing it.

—

neteyam has been there for you more times than you can count, whether it was known to you or not.

it was no secret that neteyam inherited his fathers need to protect the people he loves, you specifically.

he was always protective of his family but he always had a drive to constantly make sure you were okay.

anytime you got so much as a scratch, the poor boy blames himself for letting his beloved mate endure an injury.

although he can be a little too protective at times, you adored how safe you felt around him, when you're in his arms, no harm could ever come your way. he would never allow it.

neteyam felt at peace knowing you were safe and sound in the warmth of his home.

except you weren't.

you were currently hiding among the bushes from the sky demons that invaded your beautiful planet. you thought you had it under control, but you couldn't slip away quiet enough.

"come on out, i won't hurt you" quaritch speaks with a sickening laugh, anger bubbled inside you as you remembered the horror stories spoken around the village, all origin from him.

he destroyed your life; he was the reason you were alone on this planet.

you gripped the knife in your hand, it happened to be the only weapon present. you were ready to pounce, to get your revenge but a shock ran through your body as a strong arm grabbed you by your neck, pulling you from your hiding spot.

you struggled in the RDA soldiers grip as he held a gun at your head, presenting you to his colonel, "aren't you a pretty thing" the colonel spoke through a disgusting smile.

you curse at him in na'vi language, to which he only chuckled at.

"where is your leader, jake sully?" his teeth were gritted against each other.

"it's embarrassing that you're still obsessed with him even after all these years" you spat back.

a scowl was evident on his face as he repressed his question, now with more aggression, "where. is. he."

you only hissed, you would die a thousand tortuous deaths before betraying the sully family.

"i like it when they're aggressive" his teasing made his face even more punch-able than before.

just then you heard a rustling through the bushes, all the soldiers looked around at their surroundings. you took this opportunity to contact neteyam via voice comms.

"old lab, hurry" was the only sentence that i could manage to get across, you prayed to eywa that he heard.

and he did, he didn't have time to tell anyone where he was going. blinded by his protective urge and rage that anyone would dare lay a hand on his beloved.

his heart pounded the entire ikran flight to his destination, thoughts invaded his mind. what if he couldn't get there in time?

what if you were already dead?

the thought of seeing his mate lay on the forest floor, lifeless eyes and a stiff body was a sickening sight to imagine, his stomach twisted in disgust at the mere thought.

he could only pray to the great mother that he would get there in time.

his ikran landed silently on the cliff side, his feet were quick yet stealthy as he navigated the forest, one goal on his mind.

get to you.

he hide behind trees, eyeing the situation. and there you were, still alive, a gun to your head as you backtalked the holder. neteyam internally face palmed at his fiesty mate, still can't help but get smart even as a bullet is threatening your life.

"you know, i could just take you back to headquarters and keep you as my pretty little na'vi." quaritch stroked your cheek which he earned another hiss in return.

this was neteyam's turning point.

he moved through the trees in silence, he had a good angle. he drew his bow back and shot his arrow right through the throat of the man who held you under his gun.

all the soldiers immediately went into action, guns up and frantically searching for the attacker. while neteyam kept moving, effectivly shooting every fake na'vi with his deadly arrow.

as quaritch got flashbacks from his fight with neytiri, he quickly fled, leaving the girl behind.

when everyone cleared out, neteyam went to you. falling to the ground together, he held you tightly against his chest before pulling away and examining you for any injuries.

"are you okay? what did they do to you?' a million questions ran out of neteyam's mouth at a unnatural pace.

you grasped his face between your hands, looking into his beautiful golden orbs, "i am okay ma'neteyam, thank you for saving me."

he kissed your forehead before resting his against yours, "don't thank me for this, you know that if you're scared, i'm on my way."

"i am never letting you leave my side again" neteyams arms crushed you as he now rubbed his face where your neck met your shoulder, "i thought i lost you, i was afraid i was too late."

neteyam was disappointed in himself for not being able to get there before you even had a gun to your head, he kissed your face all over, trying to erase the image of you struggling under the weapons of those demons out of his mind.

"i am okay now, neteyam," you reassure the boy who was on the verge of shaking, "now let us go home and rest, does that sound good?"

#avatar #avatar the way of water #fanfic #neteyam #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam imagine #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #sully #neteyam fluff #avatar imagine

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lxvleycoralll · 8 months

Text

-The Games Can Wait-

❥ Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

(Fluff☁️)

❥ Summary: Peter has been gaming all day with Ned and and completely forgot you were spending the night at his place.

❥ Warnings: Uhhh idk probably just a bit of whining and some cute cuddling 🤗

———————————————————————-

A/N: This is like my first ever y/n story thing and I haven’t posted my writings like anywhere in a long time so fr if (if anyone at all sees this post) you don’t like this just click off bc I don’t wanna deal with comments saying it’s bad when I already know💀😭 I PROMISE I TRIED SO HOLD BACK THE RUDE COMMENTS😞

———————————————————————-

“Peter.”

“……”

“PETER.”

You stood by Peter’s desk chair as you tossed your sleepover bag somewhere across the room. How high up was his fucking headphones? Who knows. You got fed up and shook his chair and that definitely got a reaction out of him as he dropped his controller and gripped onto the handles of the seat.

He took his headphones off as you stopped shaking his chair and he took a deep breath and had a hand over his heart. “Y/N! You scared me half to death!” He said and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Sorry sorry. Well, kind of. Did you forget I was sleeping over??” You said and tilted your head slightly with a smile and leaned down, kissing Peter on the cheek and going to sit on his bed. “I mean- I remembered…” He said as his voice trailed off. Liar.

“You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure”

Peter spoke and his voice went a bit higher. Indicating he was lying. It was a known fact by everyone by now. He was a horrible liar sometimes.

“You totally forgot!” You yelled and hurled a pillow at him but no thanks to his “Peter Tingle”, he caught it right before it hit his face. “Ok ok I’m sorry I’m sorry-! I forgot! I’ll admit!” He said and you sighed. “Let me guess, you’ve been playing that stupid game ALL. DAY. that you and Ned bought. Am I right or am I right?”

“….”

“Knew it” You said and let out a sigh.

He pleaded for just 10 more minutes and you reluctantly agreed. Only a minute or two passed and you were already bored.

Peter had his headset back on and was screaming into the mic at Ned. You roll your eyes with a small smile and get up from your boyfriends’ bed and snuck up behind his chair. He had his eyes glued to the computer, not noticing you were there once again.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind and it made him jump slightly and he went back to focusing.

“Peterrrrrr come onnnn! I wanna hang out with youuu!” You whined and put your head down, nuzzling your face into his neck. It made a light pink blush spread across Peter’s face but he chuckled slightly and shook his head.

“Babe, you said I could have 10 more minutes. It hasn’t even been 5. I think you’ll survive another What, 6 minutes, without me.” He said with a smile and heard a groan of annoyance from you.

“But I wanna hang out with you nowwwww…don’t tell me you love Ned and your game more than me now!” You said with a small frown.

Peter sighed and paused his game, putting his headset on the desk and he turned his head a bit to look at you. “Alright alright. If you're really this impatient then Alright.” Peter said and smiled as he turned off his computer and got up from the chair.

He scooped you up off your feet as he carried you to the bed and dropped you down on it. You laid down and looked up at him as he laid down and yanked you to him. He smiled and nuzzled his face in your neck and you awed

“You comfy?” You said with a small giggle as you saw Peter nod his head.

“See, the games can wait a bit. I personally find this more fun” You say and Peter smiled and rolled his eyes

“Yeah yeah..” He said and yanked a blanket up over the two of you as he was comfortable just holding you in his arms. This was definitely better than his game.

#spiderman #tom holland #tom holland spiderman #peter parker #peter parker x reader #black cat reader #fluff #marvel #mcu peter parker #mcu peter x reader #first fanfic

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gyuriac · 26 days

Text

content: birthday happy

cw: skin touching? (not sexual tho)

pairings: makoto yuuki x reader

a/n: this is a piece that someone asked for makoto yuki, and honestly im not rlly proud of it, idk theres something missing but its been weeks already i need to post this

Were the two of you just friends? Or did you have something more?

No friends with be cuddling in their bed, bodies so closed with each other, that you can hear his heartbeat, his lips lightly touching your neck as his hands crept under your shirt, the icy feeling of his fingers sent shivers down your spine urging you to jerk away from his hold, yet you laid still letting draw small circles on your back. Your hands took its place on his unruly hair, caressing it softly, He hummed at your action, you can feel him smile on your skin, and unconsciously you find yourself smiling too.

A red tint stained your cheeks as you smothered your face on your pillow remembering how his hands intertwined with yours. How yours perfectly fits his.

But then, you remember that he has been really close with Yukari lately. From the corner of your eyes, you can see them entering the dorm together, right after she told you she’s doing something very important.

Although, the two of you haven’t explicitly stated where the two of you stand. There was an unspoken rule between Yukari and you, and it was never to entertain the one who the other is interested in. You felt quite betrayed but as you said you weren’t quite sure what your position is. So you did what you did best the most, you avoided them like the plague.

Somehow disappearing right after the bell rings or coming earlier to school, leaving before they can wake up.

Today wasn’t one of your greatest days. You were withheld from coming back by the student council. That ticked you off especially since they didn’t tell you the specific reason why and only let you go when the vice-prez got a message from his phone.

It didn’t help when the rain suddenly poured causing you to sprint from the station to the dorm. Your wet uniform clung onto your skin uncomfortably as you moved and you sighed. You were willing to fight the Reaper at this point just to get out of this drenched clothes.

Without stopping, you barged your way in the dorm, hitting someone in the process. When you made eye contact with the blue ones, you almost slapped yourself, if you had known any better you would have taken the back entrance

Now that you were stuck between his legs, his hands locked on your arm, leaving no escape this time.

With his other hand, he pulls out something from a bag, it was something you really wanted, one that only Yukari knows about, and you laugh, not because you were entertained but rather relieved.

“Happy Birthday.”

#minato arisato x reader #makoto yuki x reader #persona x reader #persona 3 x reader #persona 3 reload #persona 3 #makoto yuki #minato arisato

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virgoilluminati · 11 months

Text

Belongings

Chapter 9 (part 1) : “Tell me what you want and you got it, love.”

(Series Masterlist)

A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING MIA RECENTLY. If u have seen any of my posts you will know I basically have had a bad time with boys over the last couple of days and I’m just been in my feels. Not really in the mood for smut. BUT I’ve finally finished this chapter and tbf I actually kinda love it! Warning it’s A LOT shorter than the other chapters, but I thought it would be better to post a half finished chapter then no chapter at all. THIS IS THE FIRST CHAPTER WITH SMUT and warning I haven’t written it in a while so if it’s a bit off please don’t hate me. Anyways love u lots, thank you for sharing my Masterlist and hopefully u will enjoy :)

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (use a condom kiddos), female recieving. Dirty talk? Idk it’s just smutty and kinda fluffy.

Word count: 1.2K

As soon as the pair made there way back to their hotel, the last thing they wanted was to be stopped by a receptionist who was promoting there alll in one buffet in the morning.

“Oh sorry- I” Y/N apologised immediately letting go of Harry’s hand which had been wrapped the whole way walking home. Harry felt his heart sunk for a minute worried that he had done something wrong. But then he realised the receptionist knew who he was, and if she knew who he was, she also may well presume y/n was his girlfriend.

“No please, I should’ve asked you sooner. Normally we ask all guest on their arrival, but you came in late last night and were out before buffet was served today, we just want to make sure we have all of the allergen and preference information.” The receptionists continued, handing them both a form to fill in. Y/N and Harry both slightly groan, knowing deep down the longer this would take, the longer before they would be able to finally spend time with each other and confess the undying sexual desire between one another.

The longer they waited, Harry also feared, the more sober they would become, and perhaps y/n would regret her decision.

“Right, that’s it all completed on my end. “ Harry said quickly, knowing he didn’t have anything he was allergic too. And the only preference he had right now was y/n.

“Me too.” Y/N replied softly, looking quickly at the receptionist before looking back at Harry.

“Ah, nuts. Right-.” The receptionist responds, making an extensive note to his computer. Harry looked over to y/n confused to why he had never known about her nut allergy, but then again it did make sense why she never served any nut related products at her bakery.

“I won’t die if I have them. But I have an epi pen just in case I go into anaphylactic shock.” She responds, wincing as the words came over her mouth. It wasn’t exactly the most sexy thing to come out, especially in a moment like this.

“Right. That’s all good - a lot of our stuff is Nut free but, let us know in the morning if there is any issues. Sorry for interrupting and uh - enjoy your night.” The receptionist apologised, before opening the hotel door for the couple.

As soon as the door closes, Harry and Y/N burst into laughter unable to contain the tension any longer. “That’s not how I was expecting my night to go-.” Harry laughs, before looking over to y/n who was holding it in.

“Yes. Nut allergy isn’t very uh- sexy.” Y/N respond giggling before attempting to take on of her heels off. “Help.” She responds, leaning on Harry for some height as she slipped her heel off. Giggling, he leans down and before y/n can complain, he whisks her up into his arms, attempting to carry her up the stairs. “Harry what are you-“

“Shhhh, I’m trying to create the mood again-.” Harry whispers before glancing down at y/n’s boobs, which were now squashed up against his chest. “You little-“

“What-“

“Your staring at my tits.”

“No I’m not-“ Harry replied, his eyes suddenly focused on the wallpaper. “This wallpaper is very nice, cream I think-.” Y/N playfully rolls her eyes, before letting him to continue to carry her up the stairs. The whole time the sexual tension in the air began to increase, with y/n focused entirely on the large bulge beginning to stiffen in Harry’s trousers.

As soon as they stood outside Harry’s door, he slowly drops y/n down before the two look at each other with complete lust. Harry looks down at her boobs once again, but this time admiring her beauty as a whole.

“Your doing it again-“ Y/N responds, this time in a more subtle tone. Her lips begin to bite, as she begins to feel the bulge against her leg.

“To be fair, they’re some of the prettiest tits, I’ve ever seen. “ He responds his eyes entirely focused on reading y/n. Y/n playfully slaps him before, pulling him in for another kiss, their foreheads pressed together.

Harry couldn't understand why a woman so beautiful would choose to marry a man like Will. He found it puzzling and couldn't comprehend what qualities or attributes Will possessed that would make him an appealing partner for someone of such beauty. Harry wondered if there were hidden qualities or deeper connections between them that he was unaware of, as he struggled to see the apparent compatibility between their appearances and perceived personalities.

But right now, She was his. And his only.

“Harry, as much as I’d love to be all sexy and tease this all night long, I can’t- I need you.” Y/N responds, and without another word Harry picks y/n up, cradling her arse, before opening the door and throwing her onto the bed.

Y/N excited by this change in character begins to take her clothes off, as Harry shuts the door. Not wanting anyone to ruin his moment. However when he turns back around, he stops her, before looking sincerely in her eyes.

“Y/N, I - before we go any further. I need to make sure, you know we don’t have to do anything you don’t want too-.”

“I know Harry. I know. But I trust you. 100%. And I just want you to touch me.” She responds before beginning to unbutton his shirt. He looks at her genuinely, making sure there is no regret in her eyes, and once he is sure he has her consent, he forces her to stop once more.

“Harry - I told you. I’m fine- I-“ Harry doesn’t let her finish her sentence before he pushes her up against the bed frame, and pulls her in for a passionate kiss. “On your front.” He responds, almost ripping her dress completely.

Y/N moans in response turning over so her body is exposed, only constricted by her underwear. She was wearing a set of black lingerie. Her boobs heaving through the lace, whilst her panties, looked drenched from anticipation.

Right there and then Harry could feel himself explode. Numerous times he had imagined what she would look like undressed. But here, as she lay before him, completely under his spell, she couldn’t look ever more beautiful than before.

Y/N's bust is a prominent feature, displaying an ample and shapely size that adds an element of allure to her overall appearance. Her waistline is beautifully contoured, cinching in to create a striking hourglass shape that showcases her feminine curves. This captivating contrast between a smaller waist and curvier hips emphasizes her figure in an enchanting way.

The curves continue to captivate as they flow down to Y/N's hips. Her hips are delightfully wide and full, accentuating her lower body with elegance and grace. Along with her generous hips, Y/N may possess a fuller and rounded buttocks and thighs, contributing to the captivating allure of her curvy physique.

“What.” Y/N asks as Harry stands there smirking, his eyes full of joy. He wanted to tell her everything. How he was in love with her and that her physical beauty only further enhanced his inability to give her up to someone like Will. But he didn’t, instead he just placed a kiss gently on her lips, before beginning to cascade down to below her thighs.

“Your just beautiful, tha’s all.”

As Y/N heard Harry's words, her heart filled with an overwhelming sense of joy and validation. To be called beautiful by someone like Harry, who was known for his experiences with many women, held a special significance for her. It was a compliment that transcended the surface-level remarks she had received in the past.

Will, had often complimented her appearance, calling her pretty and appreciating her figure. While those compliments were undoubtedly appreciated, being called beautiful by Harry held a deeper resonance. It made Y/N feel seen and cherished for more than just her physical attributes.

“Harry-.” She moans as she feels his tongue teasingly taste her panties, hot air beginning to flow towards his thighs. Without another word, he bites hard on her underwear, ripping them down to the feet, allowing him more access to her body. “You’re so wet y/n. All for me?”

“All for you Harry, all for - fuck.” Before she can finish her sentence, Harry pushes her legs over his shoulders, allowing him to lick a long strip of her pussy. After getting a moan of approval, he begins to speed it up, allowing y/n to be all immersed.

Y/N could feel shock waves go through her body. She had had people go down on her before. But my gawd, no one else was able to do it the way he was doing it right now. Will had once attempted to do it, and well let’s just say, it was better left alone. Where’s Harry, was twirling his tongue along her clit, finding everything that would set off triggers in her body.

“Fuck Harry, your so good at that-.” She moans, as Harry grabs her boobs with one of his hands whilst the other held y/n in place, placing her constantly under the spell of his tongue.

Harry knew he was good at eating pussy. Which is why, seeing the women he loved completely undone with his tongue, made him feel like a fucking god. Here she was lying half naked, one hand on her other boob, whilst the other held onto the sheets, all immersed in allowing Harry to treat her right.

Harry begins to fasten up his movements, his motivation focused on collecting all of the juices which leaked from her pussy. Before placing one finger in her hole. Y/N hums in pleasure, feeling a similar sensation begin to boil in her stomach.

“Harry fuck-“ She responds, her hand suddenly tugging at the roots of his hair, needing the further friction on her body. He hums in response, his tongue never leaving her clit, constantly tormenting her release. His fingers begin to fasten up on hole, until he adds another.

“Harry, I’m fuck, I’m gonna -.” Before she can say anymore Harry begins fingering her rapidly, his tongue with none stop pace on her clit. He can feel her begin to burst, and to be next to her pussy as he does so, was nothing but stuff in fairytales.

With one big moan, y/n feels the release enter her body, her eyes looking up at the sky. She feels herself begin to shake, overwhelmed from the amount of pleasure, done just by the use of her tongue. “Fuck Harry- your good at that.”

Harry smirks again, before leaning over to bring her into a much deeper kiss, the taste of her pussy, sliding into her own mouth. Harry hums as he feels y/n begin to frantically pull down Harry’s shirt, and undo his belt. She was desperate to give something to him, to pay him back for what he did to her. But with a stern grab of her hands, Harry stops her.

“As much as I would love to see that pretty lips wrapped around my dick, if I wait any longer I think I’ll explode.” Harry responds, causing a desired reaction from y/n. In response she moves faster to take his jeans off, as Harry unattaches y/ns bra from her back, exposing two large breasts at his dismantle.

As soon as both Harry and Y/N were both naked, They stood at the end of the bed, y/n’s legs high up in the air, as Harry, let his dick slide into her. As soon as she felt comfortable, he began to fasten up his movements, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he would cum.

“Shit- You have no idea, how long I have wanted to do this-.” Harry grunts, his eyes rested only on y/ns, whose rose in anticipation.

“Fuck, Harry.” Y/N moans, feeling his dick completely open up her walls. The more he moved in and out of her the more, she realised that his dick, fit hers perfectly. And there was no one else who could live up to this pleasure-,”

“Look so pretty when you take my dick, don’t y’ princess.” Harry moans, his free hand going to grab ahold of her breast, the other fastening up his pace. Harry could feel his release coming, the louder y/n’s moaning became.”

“That’s it, princess. Tell everyone, who you belong to, who makes you feel this way.”

“Harry, I can feel it-.” Y/N moans, feeling her own high coming again closer and closer.

“Fuck-. Whose this body belong to-.” Harry asks, his eyes frozen on y/ns whimpering state. Y/N in pleasure dosen’t reply, still overwhelmed by this sudden change in Harry.

“Y/N, d’you hear me? Who does this body belong to?.”

“-Y-You.”

“I didn’t quite hear you there princess-“

“Y-you, y-you harry! Please cum for me. Let me take it-.” Y/N yells, allowing Harry to fully welcome his high, his cum spilling inside of her. As soon as he finished, y/n and Harry lie in a state of shock, unable to fully express what has just happened.

The pair lay there for about another 10 minutes, in a comfortable silence, realising that not only had they seen each other naked for the first time, but also they had just had sex. But both also knew, they did not regret it one bit.

“So…. That-“

“That was amazing. Haz. I don’t know what else to say-“ y/n sighs, her hand, placed firmly above her pillow. Harry hums in response before taking her hand, clutching it slightly and pulling the duvet over both of their bodies.

“You still don’t regret it?”

“Are you kidding, Harry, of all of the horrible things I have done to Will. This is not one of them. Y’know how long, it’s been since -“

“Oh, oh.”

“Yeah.” She giggles slightly, before Harry props himself on the pillow, his eyes suddenly filled with concern.

“Wait- shit, should I have done something more romantic. I had no idea, I just presumed, so you and Will never-.”

“No. We did. Once - it ended in disaster.” Y/N winces explaining how Will couldn’t get it up and then when he did, y/n had already fallen asleep from drinking too much prior. The story made her laugh, and Harry knew deep down, she was beginning to regret ever falling for Will in the first place.

“Your cute when you laugh.” Harry states randomly, placing a finger on her cheek. It startles y/n a bit, before she lets him continue, her eyes locked in his green pearls. “I hate my laugh.” She responds cringing.

“What? Why?!.” Harry sounded outraged that she let herself feel that way. He loved her laugh, the way her eyes would narrow and her little freckles would be crinkled.

“I don’t know. I just always have- it gives me wrinkles. I guess I've just always been self-conscious about it," Y/N admitted softly. “Unable to take her seriously Harry let’s put a loud laugh. “Y/N Y/L/N, you are too young for wrinkles.” He responds, caressing her cheek.

“Besides, wrinkles or not, your the prettiest girl I have ever met. And I know, this isn’t the way I hoped it would happen, but I am so happy that we finally found each other.” He responds admiring her natural beauty.

Y/N blushed at Harry's words, feeling a mix of embarrassment and warmth in her chest. She couldn't help but smile at his laughter and the affectionate way he caressed her cheek. His words touched her deeply, and she realized how lucky she was to have him in her life.

She leaned in closer, resting her forehead against his. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, everything else seemed to fade away. The world felt still as they basked in each other's presence.

Harry smiled tenderly, his thumb gently tracing circles on her cheek. "You are beautiful, Y/N, you're perfect to me." They stayed like that for a while, savoring the intimacy of the moment. Y/N realized that her insecurities melted away in Harry's presence. His love and acceptance made her feel comfortable in her own skin.

“I will tell Will-.” Y/N responds immediately changing the mood to much more serious. “Mmm, do we have to mention that now, we were having a moment.” Harry winces realising the extent of what they had done.

Harry's expression turned serious as he understood the weight of Y/N's words. He knew they couldn't ignore the situation and needed to address it, even if it meant disrupting the wedding plans.

Y/N nodded, her eyes filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "I've been holding onto something for far too long, and it's not fair to anyone involved," Y/N admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "I need to tell Will that I can't go through with the wedding because my heart belongs to you."

Y/N smiled gratefully at him, feeling a sense of reassurance in his presence. They both knew it wouldn't be an easy conversation, but it was necessary for everyone involved to find their happiness.

"We'll talk to him as soon as possible," Y/N said, determination lacing her words. "I want to be honest with him and give him the respect he deserves."

Harry nodded, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. "And I'll be by your side every step of the way."

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic rec #one direction #harry styles concept #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harrystyles x y/n #harrystylesxreader #harry styles x reader #harrystyles cute #harry styles smut #smut

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petefromarma · 2 months

Note

Dont get me wrong but that course of events you laid out sounds like a mostly good thing? Gabe saying anything even kinda resembling an apology is already better than the Absolutely Nothing I was expecting

i’m putting this under a cut as it’s long

yeah i mean i do think them donating to a relief org would be the absolute best thing possible bc like as of rn nothing abt this is materially helping palestinians. it’s all just noise which honestly i probably shouldn’t be contributing to bc i always knew this was going to happen and i’ve always known what pete and gabe are like. i’ve also always known what the other three are like but pete and gabe are the only ones who have done and said things prior to this incident (other than being silent) irt palestine that warranted outright criticism. anyway my main problem rn is w gabe’s statement.

the reason i’m unimpressed w it is bc i feel like it’s smth either he or an intern paraphrased in like two minutes (again, always knew this was going to be the response if any), and doesn’t address what the majority of the problem was imo, which was that he was parroting blood libel propaganda put out by the israeli govt re oct 7th. i haven’t gone and looked at the post myself recently, only seen screenshots of his comments, so idk if he took that part down, but that to me is the greatest issue. i never had a problem w him mourning the civilian casualties/hostages of oct 7th.

like addressing the discontent at all IS a good thing but i don’t believe his comment covers anything that he actually needed to apologize for and i’ve already seen teenage westerners who clearly learned abt palestine for the first time like. five months ago. trying to speak on this situation with authority that is not earned and not deserved.

and i’d like to be clear and say that i don’t believe all or even most blunders re saying something ignorant online require a full apology; i think that in most cases, deleting whatever was said is enough. i don’t think pile ons or bullying are conducive to rehabilitation or a change in behavior. however, to me, this is a special situation in which i believe a full retraction is necessary bc as i said before, he was spreading israeli govt propaganda.

none of what he said was new to me either. i know he’s the descendant of holocaust survivors, and more than that, i know his family had to flee europe and later uruguay. i know that like many jewish families do, his parents kept a box in their home in nyc filled with their passports and valuables in case they needed to get out of the country in a hurry; he needs to realize that this and so much worse is the reality that palestinins are living every single day.

the israeli govt preys upon and exploits the generational trauma of jewish individuals/families/communities in order to sow fear, terrorize palestinians, and further the colonization of palestinian land; i have complete understanding of how he’s been radicalized to this point, but it doesn’t excuse what he’s said and done and i think the only real way of fixing this is putting his money where his mouth is and making a public donation. again i’m not demanding anything of him, i’m not saying this will or won’t happen, i’m just saying what i think SHOULD be done and what would be the most effective from a harm reduction standpoint. can he come back from being radicalized to the point he was/is? i don’t know. i’d like to think so. all i know is that that statement didn’t address what i think it should have addressed IF it was supposed to be considered at all meaningful and i think the way ppl have been reacting to it is inappropriate.

anyway, sidebar bc i’m going to attempt to stop talking about this after this post and go back to focusing on initiatives that actually benefit ppl in palestine rn, but i think fans (who are not palestinian) who were shocked by this were living in a fantasy world and i think the way those fans esp those on twt have reacted toward meredith has been abhorrent. as i said a lot of this has just been noise rather than any action that is meaningful in any way and i think that while we should be realistic abt what we are going to get from them we should also be able to acknowledge where any actions of theirs are lacking.

#also if anyone has a problem w me using the term blood libel i’m not sorry bc it is what the israeli govt is doing

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sweetreserve · 1 year

Text

ღ — NAGITO RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

summary. idk you and nagito being cute. note: mentions of eating/food, medication.

pairing. nagito komaeda and (gender neutral) you — romantic.

genre. fluff (but ofc bits of mental illness); hurt/comfort; non-despair au.

a/n. remember when I said I would write during the summer lol anyways srry I haven’t posted the good ole serotonin ran out ;-; but here I am! decided to write something self-indulgent lol as always, apologies if there are any mistakes. hope you enjoy!

You and Nagito were friends for quite some time before entering a relationship. The man has a difficult time understanding his own emotions, especially negative ones, and you were afraid that you would make him uncomfortable if you confessed your feelings.

Nagito was closer to you than anyone else. He would always defend you if someone was rude or disrespectful, he always gave you his lunch (even if you had yours, in which case you tried to persuade him that you didn’t need his lunch and he should eat instead. You end up compromising and share lunches), and you always made sure to involve him in activities with your class.

“[Name], I understand if you would rather attend alone than with me. After all, I’m probably making everyone uncomfortable…”

You grip his hands. “Nagito, if I didn’t want you to come, I would have never mentioned the party in the first place. And you know, everyone cares about you. You’re important, and you deserve to have a good time like anyone else. Where I go, I take you! … I-If you’re okay with it, obviously.”

He lightly laughs and your heart pounds a bit harder. “Of course. Anywhere with you is always pleasant.”

Your classmates tease you when you come to the party still flustered. Nonetheless, they knew the special bond you and Nagito shared, and while some may have had reservations, they truly did care for the both of you. Things were going well!

… Until one day, Nagito began avoiding you.

“I’m sorry [Name], but it’s for the best we don’t speak to each other...”

Since then, every time you entered into his vicinity, he quickly left in the opposite direction. He looked away whenever you glanced at him. When you waited for him to walk home, he quickly and quietly ignored your presence. No acknowledgment, no greeting, and no walk home.

This came as a shock to everyone, of course. You and Nagito were always glued to the hip. So what happened? You went to Hajime for help, which led to a heavy conversation about him.

“I don’t think you did anything wrong, [Name],” Hajime said.

“But… why would he avoid me, then? Oh, Hajime, what if I accidentally hurt him?”

He shook his head. “I doubt you could do anything severe that would cause him to avoid you entirely. Maybe…” Hajime stood deep in thought. “… He realized that… You never left him…”

You frowned. “I mean, of course not. Why would that…?”

After a moment, you and Hajime looked at each other. Of course.

Nagito, the self-deprecating man, never imagined himself to find someone to love or someone to love him back. His upbringing was a cold one, and with his luck, it was no surprise that the thought of emotional attachment pushed him into a state of confusion, panic, and avoidance. You were suddenly a pillar in his life, and if you were to leave, his spirit would collapse. He was afraid, and you didn’t deserve to feel hurt by these new, unexplored emotions of his. So he left before you could say anything. Perhaps, you would forget about him. Doesn’t everyone in the end?

Of course, you had no intentions of leaving. If he didn’t want to be your friend, then so be it. But you were not leaving without having your feelings known. You told Hajime your goodbyes, and aimed to set things straight.

You finally got Nagito alone after multiple attempts of trying. His eyes were pained at your presence, expecting a scolding for leaving you. Maybe you were going to insult him. Maybe you realized what bad of a person he was all along. But you merely held his hands. He didn’t shy away.

“I think… I know why you suddenly left me, Nagito. And I respect whatever you want to do. But… But I want you to know that I never found you a burden. I want to keep spending time with you, and I don’t want you to go through things alone. You’re… someone special to me, Nagito.” You looked at him in the eyes. His eyes shined with tears. “And I want to be with you.”

For the first time, you witnessed Nagito cry in front of you. The man never let this side of him show with his normally calm and relaxed demeanor. But you knew it was because he never let himself feel and understand these unpleasant and scary emotions.

“You deserve to feel love, Nagito. I want you to be happy. If you’re happy without me, please tell me- "

“N-No! [Name], how could I be happy without you? That’s …. No. Rather, you would be happy without me.”

“That’s not true!”

“But it will. Don’t you see? Every moment you’re around me, your hope dwindles because of my luck — aha. How despairing. The longer you’re with me, the more despair corrupts your incredible hope. And you deserve someone who will uplift that hope… Not worthless scum like me.”

You hug him. “You’re not scum! If I wanted to leave you, Nagito, I wouldn’t be here. I want… want you - I don’t want… anyone else.”

You felt Nagito’s body shake in your arms. You didn’t know how, or when, you both collapsed onto the floor, but it didn’t matter. All you remembered was the sound of his heart beating, and his hair tickling your face. His face was tinted red, and you slowly caressed his cheek. At that moment, you vowed that you would never leave him, as long as he wanted you by his side. His luck would not stop you from loving him, and so he allowed your lips to press against his, despite the hammering of his heart.

The beginning of your relationship was rocky, full of push and pulls. Nagito was a lingering presence near you, hyper-alert of your proximity. This was new to him, after all. Every hug, every kiss, and every touch always started with a was this touch okay? Please let me know if I’m making you uncomfortable. Do you still love me? Am I doing something wrong -

“Nagito, love,” you say, pressing a slight kiss to his cheek. “I’m still here. It’s okay.”

His body tenses, but instead of pulling away, he gently hugs you from the waist. “… O-Okay. Only if you’re sure.”

However, once Nagito eased at your touch, and the both of you understood each other a bit more, Nagito’s true feelings finally blossomed - especially his affection for you.

He respects your boundaries, of course, and always makes sure you’re comfortable with his touches. But he cannot help feel his heart burst for your touch at random times. With a quick “is this okay?” he’ll wrap his arms around you and lean into your body. You laugh at his sudden affection, which causes him to become flustered.

“Hehe, I didn’t know you wanted to hug me this badly, Nagito.”

His cheeks burn. “Y-You said this was alright…” You feel him grow nervous.

To calm him, you place a small kiss on his nose. “Of course, I’m just teasing. I never want you to leave.”

You notice when he’s tired, he often forgets his usual rational and calm demeanor, and will flop onto your stomach and cling to your body without realizing what he’s doing. You like playing with his hair and massaging his shoulders as he slowly falls asleep on top of you. It isn’t until he wakes up that he profusely apologizes.

“I-I’m so sorry, [Name]! D-Did I do something wrong? I didn’t hurt you, did I? I’m such a -"

You quickly cut him off. “Nagito, you only fell asleep on me. It’s alright,” you said soothingly. “You’re very warm, anyway. Like a blanket!”

“[Name]…”

“I mean it! I promise, you did nothing wrong.” You kissed him and pulled him back toward you. “You may sleep on me as many times as you’d like.”

He sighs, but allows your touch and slowly closes his eyes.

You also realize that Nagito never spends a day without spoiling you to some degree. He’s… well, pretty rich.

“Nagito… ? What is this?”

“Oh, it’s just something I found when walking home. I thought it would look nice on you and decided to buy it.”

“… Isn’t this brand expensive?”

“… Hm, I suppose it is.”

“Nagito!”

You lightly scold him and tell him not to spend his money on such expensive gifts, especially material things. But somehow, there’s always brand new, high quality sets of markers and pens on your desk, or a new watch you meant to replace, or a new office chair to replace your old, squeaky one you’ve mentioned to him. He doesn’t stop giving you presents despite your assurances, as you were the ultimate hope of his life, and he wants to treasure you.

Nagito realizes a new world of hope just from being with you. You invite him to all sorts of places he’s never been to or things he’s never done…

… Like going to the theater! He loves to see you happy, so he has no opinions on the movie. As long as he’s with you, you could pick or do just about anything. Of course, with a bit of convincing, he’ll help you pick a movie and add his input, albeit a bit reluctantly.

Though, most of the time, the movie isn’t exactly your highest priority…

“Here, Nagito, try some!” you said, plucking a piece of popcorn and leaning towards him.

Nagito's usually absorbed in the movie and doesn't like to be distracted. However, once he hears your voice, he immediately turns toward you. “U-Um, but [Name], it’s your food…”

“Oh, we used to share food all the time! You know it’s alright.”

“But… isn’t it a bit different now?”

“… Nope! You’re still you, and I love feeding you. Here you go,” you say as you slowly inch the popcorn towards his mouth. He nods and blushes as he opens his mouth. He tries to pay attention to the rest of the movie! But it's difficult when you're around...

You also find out that despite Nagito’s luck causing accidents in the kitchen, his food is… actually pretty good? He tries making all sorts of your favorite meals when he can despite the trouble he has, and you often find him waiting for you to eat lunch together! Or go out if his food is beyond fixing. You try to convince him to eat if he’s hungry, but he can’t imagine himself eating alone anymore. Perhaps because of his feelings of isolation that slowly haunt him when he’s alone? Feelings of his life before you…?

Anyway, because he cares about you so much, and is naturally a very observant person, he’ll make sure you’re eating foods that are not only delicious, but healthy and nutritious! He sincerely doesn’t mind cooking or buying food for you, and will always come up with balanced meals! (Of course, you have to get him to eat. He sometimes forgets he also exists).

And because Nagito is observant, he notices when you forget to take any necessary medication.

Every morning he’ll place your pills on your bedside table, and he’ll ask you once you’ve eaten breakfast, or right before bed, if you’ve taken your medication. If you don’t have a schedule, he essentially creates one for you so you don’t forget to take any important doses. He always encourages you lovingly though - he doesn’t want to push your boundaries, but he also worries about your health, so expect him to be a bit concerned and motherly at times.

Reading is a hobby of Nagito’s, and you often find him reading before midnight. He has trouble sleeping due to nightmares, so reading before bed often calms him down.

Now that you’re here, though, his nights go much smoother! If you’re not embarrassed, you read his book of interest while he lays next to you, his white hair sprawled on your lap. Your voice, regardless of the way it sounds, relaxes him, and you realize after a few chapters that his breaths become slow. Nights without your voice become difficult to bear.

If it becomes a habit of you two, Nagito feels the need to read to you as well! He’s a bit nervous at first, but as he continues reading, you feel him become more confident and immersed into the story. You usually fight a battle between falling asleep to his beautiful voice or staying awake to listen to it, but sleep always overtakes you.

And when you wake up in the morning, Nagito is a koala at your side, never letting go of your body. He apologizes when he awakens, but you only hold him back tighter underneath the covers. Sometimes you pepper kisses all over his face and neck and hug him tightly, leaving a very flustered and weak Nagito. Sometimes, he tears up over the heartfelt affection. You’re intimate with him in a way he’s never experienced. And every morning feels like another miracle.

It is inevitable that Nagito will sometimes revert to his old state, isolating himself and questioning his worth. He’s much more approachable now, but his pain is nevertheless still very prevalent.

You feel him hold back a bit more, keep quiet when he normally says what’s on his mind, and wake up to an empty spot beside you. During these times, you make sure to remind him that you have no plans on leaving him.

“[Name], you shouldn’t touch me. I’m filthy. Disgusting… Don’t you see who I really am?”

You gently guide Nagito to sit on the edge of your bathtub. After turning on the faucet, you slowly remove his shirt.

“How could anyone touch such scum like me? Seeing your hope only proves that you’re too good for me…”

The warm water rushes between your fingers, and you feel a spark when your hands glide against his upper body. You rub small circles into his shoulders and back. His words tumble out slowly.

“Why would… anyone … want to see me… like this? Why…”

You work your way up to his scalp, and he ceases altogether. His eyes close, and he leans his head into your hands that lather his hair with shampoo. You whisper words of assurances.

“You’re beautiful, Nagito. Every day, I’m glad to have met you. You’re so kind, and respectful, and smart…”

You stay like that for some time, making sure he’s comfortable and relaxed as you wash him as gently and lovingly as you can. As you finish washing him, you notice his cheeks are wet. He doesn’t say anything.

“You must be cold, Nagito. Let’s get you warmed up and dry, okay?” You bring him close to you and press a small kiss on his cheek. He lets out a small sigh. “Okay…”

He cries when you shower him with such love. But he never pulls back. Every time you compliment him, he feels that it’s simply not real. But each time, with every touch, he slowly comes back to reality - a reality where you love him, and he’s allowed to love you.

#nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #x reader #danganronpa x reader #nagito komaeda #danganronpa headcanons #danganronpa fanfiction #danganronpa x gender neutral reader #daydreams [💭]

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