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rip-us-xoxo · 1 year

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Georgie- George Weasley x Reader (REPOST)

Posted DECEMBER 27, 2020

Reposted APRIL 16, 2023

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Warnings- FLUFF

Prompt is in bold: “You’re too good for the world”

A/N- This is for @/dracodear‘s lucky number sleepover & writing challenge! Sorry it took so long!

Enjoy!!!! And I hope you like it Olivia!

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1st Year

“Georgie, let’s just go,” you heard Fred Weasley say from behind you. “What are you wearing, Weasleys? Hand me downs?” you heard a Slytherin boy cackle, making his friends cackle.

You were sitting down at the Hufflepuff table, talking with some of your new friends when you heard the bullying. As a true Hufflepuff (as your friends liked to call you), you embodied what Hufflepuff was all about. The sorting hat did sing “You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal, Those patient Hufflepuff’s are true And unafraid of toil;” and that’s exactly what you were.

Now, you had exchanged words with the Weasley twins, but the words that were coming out of the vile Slytherins mouths were making you feel like they were your best friends.

The words were making you very angry inside, so angry that you needed to go and do something about it.

“I’ll be back,” you told your friends with a smile before putting on a determined face and walking over to the scene.

“Hey!” you called out, making all of the students stare at you. You gulped, “Don’t make fun of them! That’s not nice!”.

“That’s not nice!” one of the Slytherins mocked and took his knee off of the bench that it was leaning on and walked over to you, towering over you, “Whatcha gonna do about it, Huff?”.

You gulped once more and your eyes flickered over to the boys, locking eyes with George for a few seconds before looking back up at the Slytherin, “What you were saying to him was not okay, and I came to put an end to it.”.

You shivered at the look that the boy gave you before laughing and pushing you ever so slightly but making you tumble backward. “Oof,” you grunted when your butt hit the ground.

He and his group all threw insults at you about how you were “a weak Hufflepuff” before turning around and leaving you there with everyone looking at you. You started to try and get up by yourself but you heard someone quickly scurry over to you and before you knew it, you were being pulled up by your bicep off of the ground.

“Are you okay?” the person asked. You looked up to see George Weasley, one of the two boys you were trying to defend. “U-Um yeah, I’m sorry,” you said sadly and looked down. “Hey, it’s alright, thank you for defending us. My family isn’t too well-liked by purebloods, which is what all those boys are,” George said while patting your shoulder. You looked up into his eyes but quickly looked back down.

Your face went red and you turned your body slightly toward him, still looking down, “I just don’t understand why everyone can’t be nice to each other, it’s not that hard.”.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. You smiled at his laugh and looked back up at him, “I’m Y/n.”.

“Yeah, I know, we have herbology together,” he informed and thought back to all of the times you were praised for being a child prodigy in herbology.

“Oh, well, I’ll see you later George,” you said with a smile that made his heart thump before giving him a quick hug, not even giving him enough time to hug you back, before letting go and running back over to your friends.

2nd Year

“Georgie!” you screamed as you watched your red-headed friend fall off of his broom after getting hit in the chest by a bludger.

It was only his second game of the year, or, ever, and it was against Slytherin, who was never fair during quidditch matches, so someone was bound to get hurt. You just hoped that it wasn’t going to be George, but from the gasping of everyone in the crowd to the boy literally on the ground, you knew that he was the unlucky duck.

“Excuse me!” you shouted while walking through the crowd in the Hufflepuff stands. You got to the stairs and quickly climbed down before running onto the field. To your horror, George was knocked out on the ground.

“Ms. Y/l/n, move! We need to get Mr. Weasley to Madame Pomfrey!” Madame Hooch declared and motioned for you to help her. You put your limp friend on your shoulder, his other arm slinging around Madame Hooch, and you both headed off for the hospital wing.

You were panicking the whole time, you immediately thought the worst, contrasting the positive mindset that you had about everything.

“Madam Pomfrey! We had a bit of a mishap during the quidditch match,” Madam Hooch announced while you both laid him down on one of the beds. “Oh boy, a bludger, I’m assuming?” she pitied while looking at his face that had scratches all over it from the impact he made with the grass.

“Exactly that, the poor boy was doing great, but he got a little distracted and missed the bludger heading straight for him,” Hooch cooed while patting his face, “Well, I have a match to get back to refereeing. I’m sure Weasley will be fine, I’ve seen worse.”. She took one more look at him before patting you on the shoulder and walking away.

“Will he be okay Madame Pomfrey?” you asked, voice shaking from your nerves. “Yes, he will be just fine, Ms. Yl/n. As Madame hooch said, there has been much worse,” she said while finishing up cleaning his cuts.

After the final dab of alcohol she stood up and studied him for a few moments, “He should wake in a few hours.”.

You breathed a sigh of relief and watched as she walked away before grabbing a chair and sitting beside him. “Thank Godric you’re alright,” you chuckled and studied his sleeping face, “Well… kinda, I guess, I don’t know.”.

Your nerves were getting to you again, but not because of the fact that George was hurt, it was because you were just near George. You’ve recently been slipping up while talking to him, always being mesmerized by his very handsome face. You would get all blushy when you two were close, not something that used to happen before.

You stayed there for hours, watching as people walked in and out and occasionally talking to George. “Ms. Yl/n, it would be a good idea to go back to your dormitory. You’ve been here all day, you should go and get some rest,” Madam Pomfrey coaxed, but you didn’t budge.

“I don’t want to leave him here, he’s my best friend,” you informed her with tears brimming your eyes. “Go get some sleep, Y/n,” you heard a tired voice say from beside you.

Your head shot sideways and you smiled brightly when you saw Georges smirking, and slightly concerned face. “Georgie!” you exclaimed and jumped to hug him.

He grunted and hugged you back, pouting small when you pulled away. “How long has she been here Madam Pomfrey?” George asked.

“Since ten in the morning, I’m afraid. She hasn’t left your side all day,” Madam Pomfrey recounted. George looked over at you with a look on his face that said “Really?”, but it was like you were stupid, stupid to be there all day with him.

“What? I was terrified! You think I was just going to leave you here?” you asked perplexed. He shouldn’t be surprised that you stayed all day with him, it’s just in your nature to take care of people.

“Go and get some rest, Y/n, I’m fine,” he beseeched and made a motion with his hand, telling you to go. “Are you sure you’re alright?” you questioned, not believing him. You wanted to make sure he was at 100% before you left him alone.

“Yes, Y/n, I’m fine!” he assured you, “Go and sleep, please, for me?”. He made puppy dog eyes that he knew you couldn’t resist.

“Fine,” you breathed out after his cuteness became too much. “Thaaank you,” he mused. You gave him a small nod before slowly, and reluctantly standing up from the chair you were sitting in.

You turned around quickly so that you wouldn’t look at him anymore, you felt bad for even leaving his side. You walked hastily out of the hospital wing and got pretty far down the hall before your guilty conscience started going a million miles a minute, making you feel horrible for leaving him there.

You stopped in the middle of the hall, fiddling with your fingers, debating whether you should keep walking or if you should go and sit with George. You started bouncing up and down, the guiltiness eating you alive.

You let out a whine before running back to the hospital wing. George looked at you disappointed when he saw you walking toward him.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t leave you,” you apologized and sat down next to him before laying your head down on his stomach.

“It’s alright,” he chuckled, “just get some rest.”. You nodded your head before letting out a cute yawn and drifting off to sleep.

3rd Year

“Georgie, that’s too funny!” you laughed as you, Fred, George, and Angelina were walking through the corridor. “I am pretty brilliant,” George boasted, laughing too.

“Ah shit!” you heard someone groan from across the corridor. Your head looked toward the direction of the words to see a Slytherin boy looking down at a bunch of books scattered all over the ground.

You left your position beside your friends to go and see if he needed help. “What do you think about that, Y/n?” George asked before looking sideways to see that you weren’t there, “Y/n?!”.

He looked over to see you walking toward the Slytherin boy and quickly followed behind to make sure that he wouldn’t touch you. Fred and Angelina followed closely behind too, to make sure that George wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“Are you alright? Do you need help?” you asked the boy. He glared up at you, making you gulp. It was the boy who bullied the twins in your 1st year. “I don’t need help from a dumb Hufflepuff,” he seethed and bent down to pick up his books.

“Now you listen here!” George growled and walked toward him, but you placed your arm in front of him, holding him back. “It’s alright George,” you told him.

“But he just insulted you!” George chided and pointed toward the boy who was struggling to pick his books up from the floor.

“Here, let me help you,” you told the boy, ignoring George. You picked up some of his books and stood up at the same time as him, handing his books to him. He took them reluctantly from you and looked over at his friends to see them laughing at the scene.

“Stupid huff,” he mumbled and stomped back over to his friends. “That’s it,” George seethed and pushed past you.

“George, please don’t! He’s probably just having a bad day!” you called out after him. George turned toward you and walked back to you, “How could you be so optimistic? He just called you stupid!”.

“Yeah, Y/n, I couldn’t see a good reason why he called you stupid even if I wanted to,” Fred chimed in, Angelina nodding in agreement.

“Everyone has their bad days. And besides, it’s not worth hurting someone for it. Kindness always wins,” you informed them and grabbed George softly by the forearm, pulling him closer to you.

“I can’t believe you,” George scoffed, amused by just how optimistic you could be. You gave George yet another smile that made his heart thump, as did every other smile you gave him.

He just rolled his eyes, trying to hide the red that flushed his face, and walked ahead of the three of you to lunch.

4th Year

“Georgie!” you called out after George, flower crown in hand. He turned around to see yellow robes running toward him, making him immediately smile. “Yeah?” he asked, watching as you finally got up to him.

“I made you this,” you told him sheepishly and held out the flower crown. “Thanks!” he beamed, “What’s the occasion?”.

“Well, I thought I might make something for my new boyfriend,” you told him, giggling when you saw blush spread across his cheeks. “Well, I love it,” he told you and set it on top of his head.

“How does it look?” he asked and struck a funny pose. “Lovely,” you giggled and walked up to him. “Hold on,” you said and stood on your tippy-toes to adjust it on his head, your tongue slightly sticking out because of how hard you were focusing.

You looked down slightly to see that you and George were face to face, and also that George had been staring at you admiringly the whole time. You became shy under his gaze and quickly looked back up, “There,” you breathed out and looked back into his eyes.

He smiled slightly at you before grabbing you by your waist, catching you by surprise. “Now or never,” he mumbled and brought his hands up to cup your cheeks before pressing a kiss onto your lips.

Although you two had been dating for a few weeks, you two hadn’t kissed yet. You didn’t know when it would be the right time because this was both your guys’ first relationship, you didn’t know how any of it worked!

Once George pulled away, you frowned a bit, already missing the feeling of his lips, not knowing when you would be able to feel that again.

“Wow,” he breathed out and looked at you. “Yeah, wow,” you giggled, causing him to giggle too.

“When can we do that again?” George mused. You just laughed and shook your head before pressing another quick kiss on his lips, catching George by surprise.

“Later Georgie,” you giggled and ran past him. George looked around, blushing like mad, making sure that no one saw the state he was in; A complete and utter mess for you.

5th Year

“Georgie! Don’t put that in-!” was all you got out before George poured a random ingredient into the potion you were supposed to make, making it explode. You and George both froze while Fred’s laughter erupted from behind you both.

“Good job George!” Fred cackled, “Now Snape’s gonna have your head!”. And Fred wasn’t wrong, within a matter of seconds, Snape was in front of you both scolding you two.

“I assume it was your doing, Mr. Weasley. Putting… whatever you put into the potion!” Snape scolded him.

The wave of guilt went through you, although it wasn’t your fault at all, you didn’t want George getting in trouble. You should’ve just stopped him and not have let him pour that ingredient into the potion.

“No, Professor Snape, I did it,” you told him shakily, making Snape’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. You were one of the best-behaved students in his class. “Well, Ms. Y/l/n, I guess I will be seeing you in detention after class, and taking 5 points off of Hufflepuff,” Snape ordered and gave you and George a glare before walking dramatically back to his desk. “Dangit,” you whispered and slumped back in your chair.

“Why would you do that, Y/n?!” George scolded you, “We both know that I did it! Why would you take the blame?!”. “I didn’t want you getting in trouble,” you shrugged and looked into his eyes.

He just sighed and pulled you into a hug. “You didn’t have to,” he whispered and put his head in your shoulder, looking down at where he was stroking your bicep.

“I know, but isn’t that what girlfriends are for?” you chuckled, making George look up at you sadly. “Thank you,” he mumbled and kissed you on the cheek.

“I’d do anything for you, George,” you proclaimed and kissed him on the cheek.

6th Year

“Georgie, help me please,” you laughed as you walked up behind him where he was standing by a tree talking to a few quidditch teammates. George turned around and started laughing as well, “Looks like you’ve got your hand full there,” he chuckled.

You had 5 first years all hugging you at the same time. Over the past year, the first years have come to like you a lot. Ever since you helped one girl with her homework, all of them asked for your help and now every day you’re hanging out with first years, which you don’t mind.

“Do you think we could sit here? It’s the biggest tree for shade and it’s pretty sunny out,” you asked him. “Yeah, of course,” George said and motioned toward the ground.

You gave him a thankful smile and looked down to the first years piled on you, “Alright guys, sit down and get out your books.”. They all quickly let go of you and sat down on the floor before rummaging through their bags.

You sat down too and looked up to see George still standing there, his quidditch mates now gone, just looking at you. “You wanna stop staring at me and sit down? Maybe help me a bit?” you laughed and motioned toward the 5 eager first years.

“Sure,” George chuckled and sat down behind you, spreading his legs out so that they were on either side of you. He then scooted up and pulled you into his chest so that you had room in between his legs to write down things for the first years.

You giggled a bit and leaned back, holding a book up so that you could read it. The first years’ assignment was to read one of the sections in their textbooks and answer questions for History of Magic.

“Alright? Who wants to read first?” you asked the students. One of the girls, Alexia, immediately raised her hand. When you nodded your head and motioned for her to go, she smiled and took a breath before beginning to read.

After everyone got a turn to read, including you and George (who didn’t want to read at all but did it because you asked him to), you all started answering the questions. But unfortunately, that is when George started getting ancy.

“Y/n, are we almost done?” he whined, bouncing his right leg. You put a hand on the bouncing leg, making it immediately stop, “No, George, we have 20 questions to answer, and then they have a potions essay to write.”.

George groaned and threw his head back, his right leg starting to bounce again. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” you told him softly and brought your hand behind your head to pat him on the cheek, “I’ll be fine by myself.”.

A few minutes later, you heard snoring coming from George. You felt bad that he was sitting on the ground sleeping, but then again, these first years needed your help. You sighed and kept helping them, but trying to stay as still as possible for George.

“No, I want to stay with you,” he whined and put his head in the crook of your neck. You just giggled and went back to helping the first years.

Around 3 hours later, as the sun was beginning to set, you decided that it was enough homework for today.

“Alright, guys! Good job today, I’ll pick you up from the great hall at the same time tomorrow and we can keep working on your potions essay!” you told them as cheerily as possible, you were tired out of your mind.

“Thank you, Y/n!” they all said in unison before each of them giving you a tiny hug, considering that George was behind you, fast asleep. “Bye guys,” you whispered and gave them a tiny wave as they all ran off.

You chuckled when you heard the snoring from behind you get louder. “Georgie, wake up,” you whispered and maneuvered your body around to face him. His face almost hit the ground when he woke up, “What, what?! I’m up!”.

You giggled at his quick reflexes and blushed when he looked at you, he looked adorable. “Oh, hi, love. How long was I out for?” he asked before yawning and outstretching his lanky arms.

“For about 3 hours, I’d say,” you told him while looking down at your watch. “Oh okay, wait? Where are the first years?” he asked, noticing their absence.

“They just left, I’m gonna help them again tomorrow, if you want to come and snooze on me again,” you joked and ruffled his hair. “Sorry about that,” he apologized.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You’re like a giant cuddly teddy bear,” you giggled. “Oh yeah?” he chuckled and tackled you to the ground, making the both of you roll around on the ground while laughing.

“George!” you laughed as you had rolled around for probably the 5th time. He stopped and hovered above your face, “Hello,” he giggled and placed a quick peck on your lips before hopping up to his feet and outstretching his arm to you.

You took his hand and he pulled you up quickly, making you fall into his arms. “Now let me get you back to the Hufflepuff common room and then I’m going to sneak into the kitchen to get some cookies,” he said and put his elbow out for you to link with.

“How gentlemanly of you,” you giggled and linked your elbow with his before walking into the castle.

7th Year

“Georgie, do you have everything set?” you asked him as he was packing his bags to leave Hogwarts. The plan would be set into motion in about 3 minutes. “Yep, I think so,” he sighed, his voice laced with sadness.

He turned toward you and grabbed your hands, “Why can’t you come with me? There’s enough room in the flat above the shop! You could get out of here, Umbridge will never hurt you again and you can be with me!”.

You looked up at him, eyes starting to brim with tears, “You know I can’t. I can’t leave the first years behind. They need me.”.

He nodded sadly and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. “I’ll see you in a couple of months. Make sure to owl me every day. Or at least every week,” he told you and grabbed your hands once more, moving them as he was talking.

“I promise,” you smiled up at him, “Now go! Go and make your dream a reality!”.

He smiled brightly at you before giving you another kiss and grabbing his broom.

“Ready Fred?” he asked, “Ready George,” Fred confirmed. George threw the firework so that it would fly into Umbridge’s class and within seconds, the boys flew off and made their final ruckus at Hogwarts before flying off, the gigantic ‘W’ in the air really making their final mark.

You cheered along with the others and immediately went to go write a letter to George so that it would be there when he arrived at their new premises.

The Night After the End of 7th Year

“Georgie!” you squealed as you saw him standing outside of the shop. The moment you got off of the train, you apparated to Diagon Alley.

“Sorry!” you apologized as you ran into someone, but you just kept running toward George. You opened your arms as you rammed into George, nearly knocking him over. “Y/n!” he exclaimed and squeezed you as tight as he could.

You let a few tears slip out of your eyes, you missed him so much while he was gone. You couldn’t stand not being with him almost every second of every day. You couldn’t stand him not sneaking into the Hufflepuff common room almost every night so that you two could cuddle.

You both pulled away and looked at each other, the amount of love between the two of you was almost too much to handle. You both grabbed each other’s faces and slammed your lips together, almost completely forgetting you were in public.

When you two pulled away, people were giving you weird looks, but you two couldn’t care less. “I missed you so much,” he breathed out and pulled you in for another hug. He looked so grown up, he had a suit and tie on and everything. All while you had a dress on that made you look like a little girl. “I missed you too, Georgie,” you proclaimed and nuzzled your face into his chest.

“Y/n, I have something I want to do,” he told you shakily. You looked up at him, worried. Was he breaking up with you? No! He couldn’t! He just said he missed you. All of your worries drifted away when George got down on one knee and pulled out a tiny black box.

“I’ve wanted to do this since I first laid eyes on you in first year,” he began, making you tear up. “I love you with everything I’ve got, and I know it’s not much, but my Heart aches sometimes because of how much I truly love you. You, Y/n Y/l/n, have had me wrapped around your finger since we first exchanged conversation. You’re too good for the world and that’s why I love you so much. You’re too good for me, honestly,” he chuckled, you couldn’t believe it.

“You’ve stood up for me when Slytherins denounced Fred and I, you were there for me when I got hit by a bludger and cared too much about me to leave my side, you helped a foul Slytherin who hurt you just because he needed help. You didn’t care that he called you mean names afterward, your heart was too big to accept that there was any evil in this world. You made me a flower crown for me when we first started dating, you saved me from getting detention by taking the blame for a potion mishap that I caused, you would always help first years and even refused to leave school with me because you knew that the first years needed you more than I did.”.

His words were making your heart swell. “You’re too good for me and there’s nothing I could ever do to fully deserve you, but I’m glad that you’ve given me a chance to try,” you were now sobbing at this point, “I guess what this is all leading up to is… Y/n, the love of my life, the girl who owns my heart, will you marry me?”.

You wiped a few tears from your eyes, “Yes, Georgie, of course, I will!” you squealed through tears and let him put the ring on your finger before letting him pick you up and spin you in the air. Once he sat you down, you grabbed him by the collar and kissed him like it was the last kiss you two were ever going to share.

“Yes! You finally did it!” you heard Fred cheer from beside you two. “Hi Fred!” you greeted him and showed him the ring.

“Holy crap, did you steal that thing, George?! It’s gorgeous! There’s no way you could afford that!” he gasped. “Only the best for the best,” George told him while still looking at you.

“Mhm,” he eyed George suspiciously and walked over to you, giving you a hug, “Well congrats, Y/n, make sure to hide that ring when you go out, you don’t want to be caught with stolen jewels,” Fred told you and walked back into the shop.

“I didn’t steal it,” George told you, “I know,” you mouthed while giggling, making him chuckle too.

“I love you so much, more than you will ever know,” he expressed, the tears that were brimming his eyes now starting to pour down. “I love you more, my Georgie,” you said in barely a whisper, trying not to sob again, and kissed him once more.

He was your Georgie forever and he could barely believe it. The purest, most positive, and good soul in the world was his fiancé, soon to be wife.

Georgie was a very lucky man indeed.

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xoxo

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley imagine #harry potter characters x reader #harry potter fanfiction

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some-of-us-watch-the-sunset-too · 10 months

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hi!! i understand if you don’t feel comfortable writing this but could you maybe do a lil thing where someone from the gang realizes reader tried to like. die. and the gang kinda comforts them? again u don’t need to lol

Mental health with the boys

A/N: i’ve got these two asks that are kinda similar so i’m gonna write a bit of a combination of the two. i’ll also say i’m not very yk- all knowing when it comes to this stuff so i’m only taking from my own experiences.

Tags: angsty fluff maybe?

if you told him you were struggling with your mental health Darry would most likely be the most sensible of the boys in the sense that he’d help you find a therapist over just helping you deal with stuff himself. he’d always be there for you when you needed him and he’d help you come up with coping mechanisms. if it was an ED he might make a meal plan with you and you could come over to the curtis’ every evening for dinner if that helped you to eat. he wouldn’t put pressure to eat though of course.

Soda would be like darry in some ways but also he wouldn’t be in other ways. If he found out you were struggling he would be the most caring and supportive person ever in your healing journey. i honestly doubt that a therapist would be his first thought process but it might come a little later. i think he’d try to keep things lighthearted for the most part to try and help you maybe to forget your problems for a little while when you’re together.

Ponyboy, oh poor pony. he really wouldn’t know what to do, especially since he’s so young. he’d try to comfort you hand help as much as he can but he would most likely go to darry for advice on what to do. the one thing i think he’d do well is noticing when you’re getting anxious or something. maybe you tap your foot or bounce your knee, maybe you fiddle with your pen or switchblade or something. whatever it is he’d notice and when he does notice these things, he probably won’t say anything but he’d put his hand on your arm and then if he knew that you didn’t mind hugs when you were anxious he’d hug you.

Dally..as much as i wanna say “he’d be so supportive and always there for you blah blah blah” he wouldn’t really. i mean he’d try to understand but since he’s spent his whole life burying his emotions and ignoring his problems that he wouldn’t know where to begin when trying to help someone else. because of that he’d go to darry for help, so then like i said in darry’s section he’d help you find a councillor or a therapist or something. one thing that i like to think is that when you come home from your therapy sessions that you talk about stuff like coping mechanisms that you can use and then dal would start trying to use them. in some way, you’d be learning how to heal together.

Two-Bit ml, he’d be very different than you might think he would. i mean in the film specifically (in my opinion) he’s presented as always joking and quite frankly- dumb. in the book he is presented similarly but he has a few moments where he can get very philosophical even (dk if that’s the right word or not) when he talks about what life is like for the greasers. given these i think that Two would be very helpful, i honestly think that he secretly has his own stuff going on so he might be able to relate to how you feel and he would 100% help as much as possible. same as pony he’d notice what you do when you get anxious so he’d be first to help you when you do.

I love Steve but if you started crying in front of him he’d be so awkward. he doesn’t really- get sad. he gets angry instead. so he has no clue what to do when someone cries in front of him. he’d go to soda for help on what to do. then soda would go to darry and basically what he does it what darry would do. just like dally over time he’d start to adopt the coping mechanisms you learned and he’d start dealing with his own things too. he’d start journaling. don’t ask why, he just would.

Johnny…well as always with johnny im kinda stumped so ignore how bad this is ok? johnnys sweet, but he’s dealing with so much he just finds it hard to help you yk? you two would lay in the lot and vent to each other but i don’t know if either of you would help each other too much? i say maybe you would convince each other to get professional help n stuff though. in school you two would sneak off together if one of you needed to get away from everything for a bit. again like some of the others, you’d learn to heal together, only this time you’re both aware of it. unlike dal and steve who would try to hide it.

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #dallas winston #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #johnny cade #steve randle #two-bit mathews #dallas winston x reader #ponyboy x reader #johnny cade x reader #steve randle x reader #darry curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #two bit x reader #darry x reader #sodapop curtis x reader

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yourlocalghoulette · 2 months

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Chapter 2~ Take On Me

Series Masterlist~ Main Masterlist~Meet the horses~

Warnings- eventual smut so MDNI! pretty much just fluff, reader has trauma, language, slow burn, flirting, relationship building

w/c: 3k

A/N~ part 2 is hereee! im literally so excited to be writing this story. part 3 is already in the works! please reblog, it always helps! Lmk if you want to be on the taglist:))

It was only when you got Joel’s number and scheduled your first work day that it started feeling real. Doing this, being around horses again, the thing that hurt you more than anything.

Well, it wasn’t the horses that hurt you. It was the way you were forced to push your limits with them. The way you were yelled at if you didn’t do something right. The way your stomach sank every time you were forced to use an unneeded pair of spurs on a horse.

Sleep doesn’t come easy Thursday night, the night before the long-awaited first day. You toss and turn in your bed, palms clammy and forehead sweaty. You kick off the matcha-colored bedspread you were wrapped in and sit up in bed, trying to take deep breaths to clear your head. You glance at your phone. 2:00 AM. If you know Sōl well enough, she’s probably at a party. She definitely won’t answer until morning.

So you text the one person who also might not be awake but still understands. Joel.

You click on the chat that only a few formal messages have been exchanged in and wonder if you’re being too impulsive. What is he going to think about you texting him at two in the morning? Your mind clouded with sleepiness and delusion, you text him anyway.

You- sorry for texting so late. having second thoughts about tmrw.

To your surprise, the ‘read’ icon pops up as soon as you send it.

Joel- i understand how you feel. are you wanting to cancel tomorrow? i was looking forward to it.

Did you want to cancel? Your brain is in a frenzy. He’s looking forward to it, you think over and over.

You- idk. i think still want to come tomorrow but I’m gonna take it slow:)

Joel- that makes sense and it’s totally good with me. can’t blame ya for feeling reluctant. you can pace things as slow as you want, ok cowgirl?

The nickname jumped off of your screen at you and butterflies take off inside your stomach.

You- ok cowboy;) thanks. excited to see u and the horses tmr!

Joel- likewise. now get some sleep, cowgirl.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you turn off your phone. The conversation was short but sweet and oddly comforting.

You silently pad over to the kitchen and quickly make a cup of chamomile tea with lots of honey. While you drink it, you shamelessly open the stable’s website and scroll to the picture of Joel and Sarah. You look closely at Joel’s left hand, resting over Sarah’s shoulder.

No ring.

Ok, he wasn’t married, but that didn’t mean much. He could still be dating, you tell yourself. Even with that possibility, you catch yourself smiling softly at the photo, staring into Joel’s dark brown eyes. Soft and comforting, like the tea you’re drinking. You sigh and walk slowly back to bed, rubbing your eyes which at this point are bloodshot from tiredness.

With Joel’s messages imprinted in your head, you quickly fall asleep.

“Un-fucking-believable. I gave you one. Job. ONE job! To win the goddamn gold medal. And what did you do? You knocked over FOUR jumps. You are a dissapointment to this team. To the profession of jumping.”

“Please- I-I’m sorry, the horse was acting weird! Probably because you made me whip him when he doesn’t need it!”

“Don’t use those goddamn tears on me. Maybe I should show you how a whip feels.”

You wake up three hours later in a cold sweat, your face streaked with tears. You breathe heavily, your hands shaking with each breath. You run your hands over your face.

“It’s just a memory,” you whisper over and over to yourself. You try to breathe in through your nose and out your mouth, calming yourself down.

Sometimes you wish you don’t have to wake up in an empty bed, no one by your side to comfort you. It stings when you think about the last time someone was in your bed.

You shake the memories away for right now. Taking one last deep breath to attempt to ground you, you climb out of bed. You skip breakfast, not sure if you would be able to keep any food down with the amount of nerves flitting in your stomach.

You brush your teeth and throw on some mascara quickly, your hands still shaky and making it difficult. You put on a black tank top and faded boot cut jeans, along with a loose red flannel because it can get cold in the early Texas mornings.

It’s 6:00 on the dot when you slide on your steel-toed work boots, tucking them under your jeans. You grab your keys and a granola bar just in case and head out the door.

As you struggle to start your old pickup truck, second thoughts and anxieties start to fill your mind once again. You struggle to push them out of your head, filling it instead with the thought that you get to see Joel again. Nevertheless, your hands shake around the wheel as you drive the short drive to Sarah’s Stables.

When you pull into the driveway, Joel is sitting outside the barn on the concrete bench, shaking his leg with a nervous expression on his face. You step out of your truck and stride over to Joel as he stands up, trying to put on a confident smile even though the last thing you feel is confident.

“Morning,” Joel grins, shaking your hand firmly. His hand lingers on yours a little longer than it should before he pulls away.

“G’morning, cowboy,” you tip an invisible hat, and he returns the gesture. He leads you into the barn, gesturing you to follow with his hand.

“Did’ya get any sleep last night?” He asks with a hint of concern in his voice, making your heart melt.

You shrug. “Kind of. And I’m really sorry for texting you so late- or, early? I didn’t really have anyone else to text.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Joel waves it off. “I liked it, having someone to talk to even for a bit. I’m always up past 2 doing paperwork and ordering feed and all that shit.”

“Good to know,” you grin, trying to hide the flustered expression on your face. You enter the barn, immediately walking up to the small Shetland pony’s stall. “Hey, buddy,” you coo, gently tracing the long stripe down his face. “And to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

Joel chuckles, leaning next to you on the stall door. “That’s Orion. Rescued him along with the percheron, Amadeus, from an animal hoarder.”

“So you’ve had a rough time with humans, huh, bud?” You nod understandingly. “I get it.”

“Very. I get it too,” Joel says softly. “So. Let’s get to work, huh? I’m gonna show you the different feed mixes for each horse. Not sayin’ you’ll have to feed ‘em every time you’re working here. We’ll feed the horses then I’ll introduce you. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds perfect. It feels weird, being at a barn after so long of avoiding horses, y’know?” you sigh softly. “Is it too soon to say I have a good feeling about you and this barn? Like…I don’t know how to explain it. It just feels different.”

Joel nods knowingly, toying absentmindedly with Orion’s forelock. “Not at all. I get it,” he says understandingly. His eyes soften as he watches you interact with Orion, a slight faraway look on your face. “You doin’ okay, cowgirl?”

You nod, straightening up. “Yeah. Sorry. Just…zoned out.”

“No need to apologize,” Joel smiles softly. A tall cinnamon colored Tennessee Walker down the aisle kicks his stall door in impatience. “Let’s do this.”

In less than 20 minutes, the horses are fed and happily nickering into their feed buckets. Joel had written down the feed mixes for each individual horses with care and posted it on the wall so you didn’t have to memorize them right away. You can tell how much Joel Miller cares for his horses.

“We can turn the horses out now.” Joel tosses you two halters, a purple nylon one and a teal rope one. “Think you can handle two horses at once?”

“Totally.” You sling the halters over your shoulder.

“The rope halter is for Whiskey, the Tennessee Walker and the nylon is for Dottie, the Appaloosa mare. Stalls 5 and 6.”

In no time, you worked together to get all six horses out to the pasture. It’s picturesque, a large green field with a tall white fence surrounding the perimeter. It feels like a daydream watching the horses frolic aorund with eachother, enjoying their taste of freedom after being caged in a stall for the night.

You and Joel sit on the lower bar of the fence, arms resting along the top piece with your head on top. Observing the horses’ behaviors carefully, you can see with the way the chestnut Quarter Horse gelding pins his ears and threatens any horse that gets close to his pile of hay that he’s top dog. The dominant horse, the leader. A comfortable silence falls between you and Joel, as you both let out a collective sigh of relief as the stress of morning feeding washes off.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Joel sighs, breaking off the silence.

“Gorgeous,” you agree, glancing over at Joel. His soft brown eyes are full of adoration for his horses.

He gestures towards the chestnut Quarter Horse. “That right there is Magnum. Total powerhouse. Used to be a ‘coon hunting horse.”

You giggle, staring over at Magnum’s solid build and shiny coat. “People still hunt for raccoons?”

Joel shrugs incredulously. “I guess. His owner gave him to me because he wasn’t getting enough attention. He was ridden twice a week and left to rot by himself in a field the rest of the time. He’s obviously dom, as you’ve probably noticed.”

“Mhm,” you nod. “I noticed. I can tell he has a strong personality, too.” You grin, looking over at Joel.

“Sure does,” Joel smiles back proudly. Your shared gaze lasts a little too long before you turn your head away, looking back at the horses and trying to hide the flustered expression on your face.

Joel introduces you to the rest of the horses; Amadeus, the percheron, Dottie, the petite Appaloosa mare, and Arizona, the gorgeous flaxen-colored mustang/Arabian cross.

“Say, have you eaten anything for breakfast yet?” Joel asks, holding out his hand to help you up from your perches on the fence.

You’re sure this man is going to be the death of you. You shake your head sheepishly, gently grabbing his hand as you stand up. His grip is soft and warm, hands calloused from years of hard work. “Not really,” you say as you let go of his hand. “I was too nervous.”

“What, am I that scary to ya’, cowgirl?” He grins cheekily, nudging your shoulder playfully as you both walk back into the barn.

“Pfft,” you roll your eyes as you nudge him back. “No, not scared. Terrified.” You stick your tongue out at him.

“Ha, ha, darlin’. Why don’t we go get some breakfast? Gotta fuel up before cleanin’ the stalls.”

You shrug. “Sure. Where were you thinking?”

“Home Grounds is a good coffee shop, good bakery stuff too,” Joel offers.

“No fucking way,” your eyes widen in surprise. “I work there! How have I never seen you there?”

“You must not be on the clock when I go. I’m sure I’d remember a face like yours,” Joel says softly, then catches himself, clearing his throat. “Sorry, that was-”

“It’s fine,” you wave it off. “Let’s go. We can take your truck. Mine’s a little…messy right now.”

Joel chuckles. “Sure as hell can’t be as bad as mine.”

Soon, you’re driving with Joel to the coffee shop, Take On Me by A-ha playing quietly through the speakers.

“I love this song!” You smile widely, opening the window and resting your arm outside.

“Me too,” Joel turns up the stereo. “You sing at all, cowgirl?”

You shake your head quickly, eyes wide in mock horror. “Not at all. Do you, cowboy?”

“A bit. I play a smidge of guitar, too,” he smirks.

“Oh, really? I’m gonna have to hear some of these Joel Miller guitar skills sometime,” you grin.

Joel shakes his head, a smile growing on his face as he pulls into the coffee shop driveway. “Believe me, I hype up my skills wayyy too much.” He turns off the truck and quickly runs around to your side of the truck to open your door. Butterflies take off in your stomach as he does this.

Hiding your flustered look, you deadpan him, eyes rolling. “Dude,” you grin, climbing out and he shuts the door behind you.

“What?” He opens the coffee shop door for you too. “Momma always taught me to be a gentleman.”

“And my mom always taught me to never trust men,” you grin cheekily.

“I can change that,” he side eyes you.

Trying to ignore his words, you wave at a coworker. “Hey, Jess!” You call to her, walking up to the counter.

“Hey, girlie. Who’s that?” She asks slyly, eyeing Joel. “New boyfriend?”

“Uh, no,” you say quickly before Joel can hear. “I’m working for him. He owns a horse barn.”

“You’re back to horses?” Jess inquires, cocking a brow.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, okay?” You spin around to face Joel. “What are you getting?”

“Just a black coffee and blueberry muffin, but don’t worry, cowgirl. I gotchu.” He starts taking out his wallet but you playfully swat his arm.

“Don’t. Please. I get employee discount anyway.”

Joel sighs in defeat, holding up his hands in mock offense. “Fine. But I’m paying next time.”

Next time, next time, next time….

After you order, the black coffee for him and a cold brew for you, you go to put your card in the reader to notice Joel’s card is already there. “Joel!” You mutter, giving him a disapproving look.

“Hey, I’m tryna be nice, okay?” He chuckles.

You roll your eyes. “Whatever. Thanks, really.”

The atmosphere felt charged with an unspoken tension as you both sat at a small table by the window, the warm sunlight filtering in. Joel's eyes seemed to hold a certain depth, a familiarity that stirred something within you.

"So, tell me about yourself, cowgirl," Joel said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

You took a sip of your cold brew, gathering your thoughts. "There’s not a whole lot to tell. Well, there is, but not a lot I want to go into right now. I fell in love with horses after riding a pony at a fair, and it kind of exploded from there. I started off riding Western and doing gymkhanas, then switched over to hunter/jumpers. That was obviously a huge change. I exelled really quickly in that, but as you probably know, being the best doesn’t mean you’re treated the best. A lot of shit happened at those barns, and I quit when when I was 18. People called me selfish and self-absorbed for quitting, which is what i believed for awhile. But my mental health imrpoved a lot after quitting and I came to accept the fact that it was a good thing.”

Joel nodded, his expression understanding. "I get that. Sometimes life throws us curveballs, and we need to take a step back to reassess things."

"Yeah, exactly," you replied, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at his understanding. "But now I'm back, and I'm hoping things will be different this time."

"I'm sure they will be," Joel said with a reassuring smile. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, cowgirl."

You felt heat creeping up your cheeks at his compliment, quickly taking another sip of your cold brew to hide your reaction. "Thanks, Joel. I appreciate that."

The conversation flowed effortlessly between you, covering everything from your favorite books to your shared love of old John Wayne western movies. With each passing moment, you found yourself becoming more and more drawn to Joel, his easygoing nature and genuine kindness pulling you in.

Before you knew it, your cups were empty, and it was time to head back to the barn. As you walked side by side with Joel, the familiar feeling of nervous excitement bubbled up inside you once again.

As soon as you walk back into the barn, he turns on a 70s playlist and tosses you a mucking fork. “Ready to muck some stalls, cowgirl?”

The music fills the barn with a nostalgic vibe as you take the mucking fork from Joel with a grin. "Born ready," you reply, matching his playful tone.

Together, you fall into a rhythm of cleaning the stalls, the repetitive motion oddly soothing as you work side by side. Joel hums along to the music, occasionally breaking out into a soft whistle that echoes through the barn.

As you work, you can't help but steal glances at Joel, admiring the way his muscles flex beneath his shirt with each movement. There's something comforting about his presence, a sense of safety and warmth that you haven't felt in a long time.

Before you know it, the stalls are clean, and the horses are happily munching on fresh hay. You wipe the sweat from your brow, feeling a sense of satisfaction at a job well done.

"Thanks for your help, cowgirl," Joel says, giving you a grateful smile as he leans against the stall door.

"No problem," you reply, returning his smile. "It was actually kind of fun."

Joel chuckles, pushing himself off the door. "Glad to hear it. You've got a talent for this, you know?"

You feel a swell of pride at his words, a sense of validation that you haven't felt in a long time. "Thanks, Joel. That means a lot coming from you."

He gives you a nod of appreciation before glancing at his watch. "Well, I hate to cut this short, but I've got some paperwork to take care of. Think you can handle things on your own for a bit?"

You nod confidently, eager to prove yourself. "Of course. I'll hold down the fort."

"Great," Joel says, giving you a pat on the shoulder. "I'll be back in a bit. And hey, if you need anything, just give me a shout."

With that, he disappears into the office, leaving you alone in the barn. You take a deep breath, feeling a surge of determination coursing through your veins.

You may have started the day with doubts and anxieties, but now, as you stand in the quiet of the barn surrounded by the gentle sounds of the horses, you feel a sense of purpose wash over you.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #mrs ohara writes shit #pedro pascal #the last of us

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jeonbunnie · 8 months

Text

the entertainer ✧ 2

✧ reader x seokjin, ft. yoongi

✧ summary: In need of some real cash, you take a job as a dancer in your city's most notorious strip club. You’re making your own hours, raking in a good amount of money, and feeling sexy while you do it. Everything was fine as long as you kept your work life and your personal life separated.But when a handsome stranger shows up one night you find it difficult to maintain the balance.Jin is a gorgeous, rich, and–taken man. But one look from you on that stage has him spellbound. He knows he’s got no business coming back to the club, but there’s something about you that makes him want more than just a private dance. . .

✧ genre: strangers to lovers; angst; smut; fluff; 18+

✧ content/warnings: 18+, rich/ceo!jin, fuckboy!yoongi, stripper!reader, college!au, songfic, pov shifts, based on summer walker’s last days of summer album, loosely inspired by pretty woman, slow burn, smut, pining, mutual pining, love triangle, romantic suspense, cursing, dirty talk, explicit sex, oral sex, fingering, aftercare

✧ a/n: this is an old fic I wrote under my prev pseudo @jeonsweetheart that I put on hiatus as noted in this lovely banner by @kookdiaries. however recently I’ve found some love for my old pieces so I decided to try writing it again. If by some miracle your someone who’s read this story in the past lol I’ve edited some details to fit the narrative better but other than that, I’m continuing with the story as is! this isn’t beta’d and since I haven’t done a series in a while I’m actually pretty nervous reposting this so if u like it pls stop by my inbox or drop a comment I’d really appreciate it :)

✧ soundtrack: girls need love—summer walker

✧ word count: 9k

♪ So what’s a girl to do when she needs loving too... ♪

| <- prev | next -> | masterlist♡ | ao3

[2:06am] Yoongi: You up?

You squinted at your phone, reading the message in the dark as the blue light shined on your face. You liked Yoongi; you really did. But more and more, you noticed he’d formed a habit of messaging you late at night. Only at night.

He’d brush you off when you attempted to hang out with him outside of work in the daytime, then later hit you up when it was convenient for him. You were starting to hate him for that and yourself because you let him get away with it.

Well, not tonight, you told yourself. I’m not gonna play that game. You put your phone on DO NOT DISTURB, returned it to your nightstand, and buried yourself in your sheets. You lay in bed feeling empty inside; you liked Yoongi, but you didn’t like this. Feeling so desperate for him all the time it was stupid and embarrassing.

Is that what love is?

You didn’t know. You’d never been in love before. Not really. Sure, you had crushes, mild infatuations, and situationships galore, but nothing like this—not this dull ache in your chest. If what you felt for Yoongi was love, then as much as you hated to admit it, maybe it was unrequited, and Hyuna was right.

Love had to be better than going to bed alone, feeling so cold and numb even though you were covered by a blanket.

You hoped she was wrong.

You wanted to be more to him than a few stolen kisses in the night and a body to hold. But as much as you wanted him to take your relationship seriously—to take you seriously—you could never risk asking him for more. To ask would be to give him all the power, and Yoongi already had enough control over you.

It wasn’t always like this. There used to be a time when you had all Yoongi’s attention.

You were so nervous coming into the club the first time. Back then, you still weren’t fully comfortable with stripping. But you had just started school, and though you already had a job bussing tables, you were still so very broke, and those bills wouldn’t pay themselves.

So you sucked up all your inhibitions and made yourself audition. You don’t know how Yoongi saw you in that crowded room. There were so many girls, certainly some more eye-catching than you, but he managed to catch you in the corner having a minor panic attack.

“You need to breathe.”

“Huh? Sorry, did you say something?” You blinked, taking in the appearance of the handsome stranger before you. On any other day, his intense eyes would have made you swoon. But that day, you were too caught up in your thoughts, worried about the worst possible outcomes of your getting up on stage. It’d been a long time since you danced for anyone besides yourself, and somehow, you were convinced you would mess up. Trip over your heels or forget a part of your routine.

“I said, you need to breathe. You look like you’re holding your breath. Are you that nervous?”

Yes, yes, you were.

You smiled weakly at him, clutching the water bottle in your hands. “I don’t even know what I’m doing here. I don’t think I can do this.” Your eyes flitted towards the exit.

“You’re here now, so you might as well go through with the audition. Don’t stop halfway.”

God, you thought, were you that obvious?

“What if I fuck it up?”

“Then you fuck it up. But that’d still be better than not trying at all.”

You remember being shocked at his response. But the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Yeah, so what if you fucked it up? You didn’t know these people. Worse scenario, you wouldn’t get in and leave a little embarrassed, but no one would know about your private failure except for this handsome stranger.

You must have taken too long to respond because shortly after his blunt advice, Yoongi apologized.

“Sorry. . . I’m not that good at pep talks.”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t know why, but that actually helped.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened. Just a bit. Just enough for you to know your response surprised him. “Uh, good. You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” you said. Then thoughtfully, you wondered out loud, “Why are you being so nice to me??”

You couldn’t believe some guy was talking you down from your anxiety attack in a strip club. What was his agenda? Did he expect something from you?

“Why not?”

You opened your mouth to question that logic when you heard your name called. Your stage name. It was your turn to audition next. You glanced up at the stage before you, the black velvet curtain in the background, soft pink and white lights setting the mood, guiding your eyes to the catwalk in the middle. And on that center stage, those same lights highlight the silver pole in the middle.

Just looking at it made you gulp. Even though you were no stranger to the spotlight, having been a dancer, this new venture was awfully intimidating.

Strange enough, you found yourself looking towards the kind stranger—for what? Words of encouragement?—but he offered you none. Just a lazy smile as he nodded towards the stage for you to dance.

Truly, you don’t remember how the audition went. You were too nervous, too full of adrenaline to recall if you did well and if your movements were graceful and sexy rather than stiff and awkward. What you remembered was the conversation that followed, what you could make out of the hushed voices huddled together to decide your fate.

You strained to hear them over the thump of your racing heartbeat.

The first man to speak still seemed to be in thought as he stated his opinion. “I’m undecided. She doesn’t really seem like the type. . . I can’t imagine her sticking around for long.” He turned to the other judges in the room, “What do you think?”

“I agree with Namjoon,” said a man so pretty you could have mistaken him for a girl. “Technically, she’s a great dancer, but she’s lacking major confidence.”

Finally, the woman spoke. “Well, I like her. I think she’s got a lot of potential. Everyone grows into it anyway; give her a chance.”

Even with that vote of confidence, the group leader still seemed unsure. He turned to look over his shoulder to the man in the audience you spoke to earlier, the one you gave your whole performance to as you swayed on stage under sultry lights. “What do you think, Yoongi?”

At last, you had a name to put to the face of the handsome stranger. His dark eyes held no hint or indication that he favored you, and if his body language was anything to go off of, you were sure it wouldn’t be a good thing based on the way he slouched in his seat, arms crossed over his chest.

But then he spoke, a slow grin pulling over his face that put all your nerves at ease.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.”

That was how it started. At the time, Namjoon, Jimin, and Hyuna were strangers to you. You had no idea the club owner and their two most favored dancers were in the room with you deciding your fate. Yoongi gave them his vote of confidence and sealed your fate. You started work later that week.

After you were hired, you were always aware of his presence at the club. You could feel his gaze follow you on stage, at the bar, always that cool, calm smolder. And the attraction was mutual. You constantly watched him in the booth, amused by his natural gift for music. There are so many shows you put on just for him. It was a crush, simple as that. You wanted him, but you were much too shy to say it. Thankfully, Yoongi was brave enough for both of you, asking you out after your first week.

The date was a pleasant surprise. Despite Yoongi’s introverted nature, he actually took you to dinner and made conversation at first, none of that Netflix and chill bullshit. His calm, quiet demeanor was infinitely attractive to you, and you found yourself mooning over him the whole night.

You hadn’t planned on fucking him, honestly.

But it’d been a while since anyone had touched you like that. So when Yoongi’s gravelly voice whispered in your ear, asking you to tell him how you wanted it, how you needed it, as his fingers rubbed sweet circles on your clit, all you could do was whine and tell him how badly your body wanted him with a desperation that couldn’t wait. You needed him right then and there.

The next morning, you woke up and swore it wouldn’t happen again.

But, of course, it did.

Again, and again, and again.

So here you were, stuck inside a situationship you didn’t want but one you always succumbed to. And tonight seemed no different.

Closing your eyes, you will yourself to go back to sleep, and you do for a little while. Until a pounding sound woke you up. You barely registered it as a knock the first time, but after two or three times, you dragged yourself out of bed and to your front door.

You had half a mind to reach for the bat you keep in the hall closet, just in case. It was an ungodly hour, and you lived alone (times like these made you regret not getting a roommate). You checked the peephole first, then sighed. Irritation rose in your blood.

You unlocked the door and snatched it open. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t act so surprised. You were giving me puppy dog eyes all night. You really think I wouldn’t show up?”

You can’t tell if the anger surfacing is from your lack of sleep, the scare, or the fact that Yoongi is standing on your doorstep. It’s probably a combination of all three. “It’s two in the morning,” you said pointedly.

Yoongi isn’t phased by your grumbly voice or sharp tone. He shrugs and moves to step inside, but you block his path.

“Absolutely not. I’m going back to bed.”

“You’re mad.”

He didn’t say it like a question, but you could tell by the lilt in his voice he seemed surprised.

You scowled into the dark. “You can’t do this, Yoongi. Pick and choose when to show up.” Pick and choose when he could be in your life, when you mattered to him.

You motioned to close the door, but Yoongi stopped you, sticking his hand in the frame. And then he did something that made you pause. He reached for you, placed his hands on your waist, and pulled you close.

Shit.

Yoongi pulled you in like the tide. It was always eb and flow with him. When he did things like that. . . You couldn’t help but give in. You were weak for this, for his touch, for the moments when he wanted you. So when Yoongi swept in close, body heat coming off him in waves as his hand reached up to cup the back of your neck, you leaned into the embrace.

“I know I’m late,” he said, kissing the corner of your mouth. He nuzzled into your neck, sneaking kisses on your collarbones.

“Let me make it up to you.”

“Yoongi. . .” You started, coming to your senses for just a minute. But before you could protest, he interrupted you with a kiss. Any resolve you might have had left your body once his lips found yours. It was so easy to lose yourself in Yoongi. His kisses were fire, all-consuming, wild. You could never get enough. Yoongi licked into your mouth, and you moaned, stumbling back into your apartment.

And just like that, you crumbled.

You let him lead you to the bedroom, shrugging off his clothes, his mouth never leaving yours. You felt your knees hit the back of something soft and sat down on your bed while Yoongi kissed you stupid. You let him touch and, tease and pull you apart. Till the pleasure overtakes the pain in your chest. And it’s good, so good. Good enough to make you forget why you were even upset in the first place.

He inches you forward with kisses and bites—marks you know will leave a hickey—till your back hits the headboard, momentarily breaking you from his spell.

“Wait,” you said, eyelids fluttering open.

But Yoongi’s hands are already sliding up your nightgown, leaving wet kisses down your thighs.

And then there was the solid feel of his hands spreading your legs apart, lips dangerously close to where you needed him most.

He hooked a finger under the waistband of your lace underwear, pulling the material off.

“You were saying?” said Yoongi, and you shivered as his breath fanned over you.

Honestly, you couldn’t remember. You lost every coherent thought your brain was trying to form. All you could think about was his touch, his thumb on your clit, the feel of him stroking you gently. You were so, so wet.

And he knew it. You could feel Yoongi smile against you as he rested his cheek on your thigh, long slender fingers working over you until all you could do was tilt your head back and sigh.

“I love playing with your pussy.” He whispered, voice just above a purr.

His words made you throb. “Yoongi,” you moaned, his name a desperate plea on your tongue.

“What?” He answered, voice smug, “What do you need?”

Too embarrassed to say the words out loud, to admit just how badly you need him, you reached down, sliding a hand into his hair, tugging at his locks to pull him right where you wanted him.

Yoongi chuckled. “So impatient.” But he didn’t move his head from between your thighs. Instead, he leaned forward, licking a stripe up your center before rolling his tongue around your clit.

You couldn’t help but lean into the action, hips tilting up to catch the sensation. But Yoongi was having none of that. He brought up a hand, pushing one palm against your belly to press you down into the mattress, while the other caressed your thigh.

“Behave,” he said, the dominance radiating through his voice. It’s the only warning you get before he nips at your clit, drawing out a sharp cry from you, the pain mixing with pleasure. Before you could even respond, Yoongi lapped at your folds, tongue making a mess out of you.

You let yourself get lost in the sensation as Yoongi buried his head between your thighs, devouring your whole. You’re too far gone to stop the whimper that spilled from your mouth. All you felt were stars as his tongue curled around your clit, languid licks driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Yoongi knew your body like it was his. He memorized every shiver and shudder, every move that turned you on. He could hear your heavy breath, feel the tremble in your thigh, and know exactly how to push you over the edge.

So he does it, sliding two fingers deep inside you to press against the spot that made your body taunt with pleasure. The pressure of his palm against your belly, his hot tongue flicking against you, his fingers curling deep—it’s overwhelming.

Chest heaving, you called out his name, a plea and a warning all at once. You were so, so close.

Cum for me,” Yoongi rasped, voice vibrating against you, and that’s all it takes for you to fall.

You climax, pleasure rushing all through your body, blanking your mind, curling your toes. Your hands fist in Yoongi’s hair, once again tugging at his locks. Only this time, Yoongi didn’t stop your pleasure but doubled it, replacing his fingers with his tongue to delve inside and taste every drop of your release, stopping only when your thighs shake, the sensation becomes too much.

When you finally came back down and caught your breath, Yoongi lifted his head and met your gaze with a smirk. “Did I make it up to you yet? Or should I apologize again?”

Though you’d been satisfied, Yoongi ‘apologized’ twice more for good measure before laying you on your side and pulling you against his chest. Cold as he appeared, Yoongi defied all fuckboy logic and was quite fond of aftercare and cuddles. Thirty minutes later, he still laid beside you in bed, naked body flush against your skin.

These were the moments you treasured the most. Pos-coital bliss, where you could pretend, if only for one second, that you were something more than strangers who sometimes shared beds.

But they also made you the most confused. Because, here in his arms, it felt like more than friends, more than sex. But did he think that, too?

So many nights you spent just like this, trying to convince yourself that this was good enough, that you were comfortable living in this in-between state. But that was then, and this is now, and it’s not enough.

And now you know it never was.

“Yoongi?” you said, turning in his arms so you’re face to face.

“What,” he grumbled back, voice thick with sleep. It’s a sound you’re all too familiar with, one you’ve let lull you into a stupor time and time again. He leaned down to kiss you, but you placed a hand on his chest, keeping him away.

“What are we doing?”

It’s a question you’d always been too afraid to ask, but now that it was the only thing on your mind, you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting it out.

Yoongi scoffed. “Sleeping?” He nipped at the sweet spot on your neck, “Unless you’re up for another round.”

“Yoongi, I need—”

He licked a stripe up your neck, scrambling your thoughts. “What? What do you need?” He said, voice husky. It’s enough to make you moan but not enough to distract you from your racing thoughts.

I need to know what this is. I need to know where I stand with you. I need—

“More than this.”

“I’m serious. What are we doing? What. . . what are we?”

You said it. The thing you’re not supposed to say, and it made you feel sick to your stomach.

You shouldn’t—it’s not as if it’s some forbidden phrase, but the words weighed heavy in the air. You’re going places you’ve never gone with Yoongi, putting all your cards on the table. It’s risky. No one wants to be the one who cares most, but you do. And you know you’re not supposed to. You know you can’t say that you want more. That you want love. That somehow, this unspoken arrangement isn’t what you needed any more. You needed to know if he felt anything for you in return, and you needed to know now.

It was quiet for a minute before you finally said, unable to stop yourself from masking the vulnerability in your voice: “I like you.”

“I like you too,” said Yoongi. There was no weight to his words. He said it so quickly, so easily, that it stunned you.

Maybe a little too easy.

“So what does that mean for us?” you said, sitting up in bed, more awake now than ever.

Yoongi froze. “Us?”

“Yeah, is there an us?” You can’t seem to say what you really mean; the words hover around the truth of your real desires, that you want a relationship. It’s obvious, isn’t it? “Because if it’s not, if you can’t see this being real, then I don’t think I can do this anymore. I might take a break.”

He has to know what you mean. . .Do you really have to spell it out?

But apparently, you do because Yoongi glosses over the true meaning of your words entirely. “Can we talk about this in the morning? I’m tired. I don’t want to fight right now.”

He reached for you, his hand slipping up your thigh and rubbing small circles with his thumb. The touch is soothing, but your mind is still whirling. Still trying to connect the dots from what he said, what it meant, and what you heard.

“I don’t want to fight right now.”

Why does the question of choosing me have to be a fight?

It’s this thought that makes it all clear. It’s not a fight. Yoongi knows the question you’re asking. He just doesn’t want to answer.

You opened your mouth to say as much, but you’re tired, too. Tired of this bullshit. The ease with which Yoongi dismissed your needs time and time again. You don’t have the strength to plead your case, and you shouldn’t have to, really.

You laid back down with you back towards him, nodding your head in agreement even as you shoved your disappointment down deep.

As if sensing your frustration, Yoongi wordlessly consoled you. He trailed kisses down your body. Each kiss, a tiny apology. At the top of your head. Sorry. By your jaw, sorry. The dip between your neck and shoulder. Sorry.

Sorry, sorry, sorry.

Despite yourself, you lean into the embrace. Yoongi didn’t always have the right words to say, but he always had the right touch. Still, a part of you starved for a deeper affection, a part that even Yoongi’s touch couldn’t reach.

. . .

In the morning, you woke up to the shining sun, aching limbs, and an empty bed.

Yoongi wasn’t beside you, and the loss of his touch stirred you from your sleep as the loneliness crept back in. You know there’s no note for you to or an explanation to where he’s gone, so you don’t bother checking. Instead, you roll over to your side, clumsily fumbling around for your phone on the nightstand.

You open your eyes with a sigh, blurred vision trying to make sense of the digits on the screen reading 9:02am when everything clicks into space with startling clarity. Your entrepreneurship class started at nine.

Shit.

“Late! I’m late!” You shouted, hopping out of bed and throwing on a T-shirt and jeans. No doubt, you look a mess, but you didn’t have time to worry about appearance. You could not be late; this course was one of the hardest in your major. You couldn’t afford to miss any class and pass, and if you flunked out, you’d have to wait another two semesters before it’d be offered again. That was time you simply didn’t have. It’d put you way behind your schedule to graduate on time with your degree, and you couldn’t afford to waste more time in school.

It’s the desperation that has you rushing down the hall to your classroom, tired and out of breath after sprinting from the parking garage into the building. You’re flustered, sweaty, and way too embarrassed to make eye contact with your professor as you enter the room, only bowing your head in apologies as your eyes scan the room for a seat.

Mia flagged you down in the corner of the room, and you slid into the desk next toher. “I saved you a spot,” she whispered, careful not to raise her voice above the steady drone of your professor’s lecture about starting a new business.

“Thanks,” you said, eternally grateful to have made a friend in this class. Mia was a school friend who, through late-night study sessions and lunch breaks, was slowly becoming a real friend, too. If only you didn’t have more time on campus, you’d probably be best friends by now, but between working for two jobs and school, your schedule was always full.

“We’ll dive deeper into identifying your target customer base next week.”

When the lecture ended thirty minutes later, you pulled Mia outside the classroom. “Hey, thanks again for saving me a seat. Can I borrow your notes from earlier?”

“Of course.” You thanked her as she pulled out her notebook and handed it over.

“No problem. Where were you this morning? I thought we were supposed to catch up before class.”

You forgot about that. “Uh, sorry. I overslept. Rain check?”

“Sure. I have a class until 3, but after that I’m free. You wanna grab dinner tonight?”

You wince, knowing you’ll have to turn her down once again. “I’d love that. I really would, but I’ve gotta—“

“Work, right. Of course.”

“Sorry, Mia.”

“Look. I get it you’re busy. But I feel like I never see you these days.”

You can’t help but feel guilty knowing she’s right. You have been all over the place this semester. Your social life was definitely suffering for it.

“And when I do, you see, you’re basically running around campus looking like a total mess.”

Ouch. When she puts it like that. . .

Mia must have read the hurt look on your face cuz she quickly backtracked. “I don’t mean to sound harsh. I’m just worried about you, ya know?”

You know she’s right, but it still made you feel like crap to hear your friend chide you like this. You know you’ve been distant, but were you really that bad?

“And I miss my friend,” she added, squeezing your hand.

At this admission, you relax, understanding where she’s coming from. “I know. Today’s not great, but I promise I’ll make it up to you, okay?” You looked down at your phone, checking the time. Now you were going to be late for your next class, too. “I gotta run, but we’ll talk later?”

Mia nodded. You hugged her before hauling ass across campus to your next class.

. . .

“Do you know what an embarrassment you are to this family?”

Seokjin sighed, slumping in his seat. His father slapped the newspaper onto his desk so hard it’s a wonder the glass didn’t crack under his palm. It took all of his strength not to wince at the title:

Billionaire Playboy Caught At An Infamous Strip Club.

“I didn’t choose to go there. Taehyung and Namjoon took me out—“

“I don’t care what Taehyung and Namjoon do. They can destroy their families’ reputations if they want to. But you are my son. I won’t have you tarnishing my reputation. You think you deserve to run this company after a stunt like that?”

At this, Seokjin rolled his eyes. “I don’t think I deserve anything. I’ve never wanted this company,” he said.

“You ungrateful piece of shit.”

Seokjin meant what he said, but he wasn’t ungrateful. Inheriting his father’s million-dollar diamond corporation was never part of his interest. “You should hand over your company to the child who wants to run it. Sohee would—“

“Sohee doesn’t have what it takes to run my company.”

Translation: Sohee wasn’t a man. And Seokjin’s sexist father would never give her the chance she deserved to take over the family business. Even though she was the progeny most naturally suited for the job.

His father waved away the idea. “Enough of this talk of Sohee. You will inherit the family business. It’s time you stopped acting like a child. Have you forgotten your responsibilities? After your wedding to Mei, our company will expand. You’ll have no time for these foolish endeavors.

How could he possibly forget? Between the tabloids and the endless, frivolous meetings crammed into his schedule to decide what color goes best with the tablecloths or what dish should be served for the twelfth-course meal, he hasn’t been able to escape any thoughts of the wedding as much as he’d wanted to.

Seokjin met Mei under duress six months ago with the intention of their union expanding the company into the Chinese market. And though their families held a long-standing relationship with each other—they were practically strangers. He had no feelings for her, and their relationship was strictly business, to his chagrin.

Seokjin didn’t want to get married—let alone to someone he barely knew. But the decision wasn’t up to him. As with everything else in his life, his father made all the decisions. Every school, every job, and every opportunity was already picked out for him before Seokjin could even utter the word ‘no. Nothing was ever a choice.

He hated his father. For his cruelty and selfish ways, his blatant disregard for others, his children’s wishes, and the control he had over Seokjin’s life.

“As a matter of fact, I have an important business dinner with her father this evening—you will attend.”

“Of course, not like I had any plans.” Said Seokjin, smiling sweetly, but his eyes held malice.

His father cut him a look and opened his mouth for what Seokjin was sure would be a good cussing out, only for his father to explode into a coughing fit. The bastard was sick, but unfortunately for Seokjin, not ill enough to die. Just enough for his father to retire early and order him to take over, crushing any dream he had of escaping his legacy.

His father cleared his throat. “I expect you to be on your best behavior and impress him, boy. But don’t be a fucking kiss ass. Remember, you represent the Kim name. Show me you are not a complete disappointment as my heir. You can do at least that, can’t you?”

Seokjin grit his teeth, swallowing down his anger. He hated his father for his relentless demands, but he also hated himself.

Because despite resenting it all, Seokjin always did as he was told.

. . .

[4:34pm] Sunshine Boss: I have something for you :)

[4:34pm] Sunshine Boss: I know you’re off tonight, but you should stop by and pick it up. I think you’ll be satisfied with the gift.

You look up from your phone, stopping midway in your tracks. It’d be risky, but you could squeeze in some time to stop by the club before heading to your other job.

Jeongguk winked at you as you walked up to Paradise. You smile at him as he holds the door open for you, shaking your head at his endless flirting. It always amused you that he was the club bouncer when the kid was a little younger than you. But you always felt safer having Jeongguk at the door. You’ve seen firsthand how that sweet bunny smile could fade into a deadly expression. Jeongguk could be very intimidating when he wanted to be, and his muscles weren’t just for show. You felt sorry for anyone who crossed a line at the club and ended up facing off with him.

It doesn’t take you long to find your boss. He’s tucked away in his sleek gray office as usual, typing away on his laptop. He looked polished as ever in a new suit and a crisp white button-down. When you knocked on the door, Hoseok looked up and waved you inside. “Come in.”

“You said you had something for me?” You asked. You were still curious as to why he requested you stop by. Work was work, but Hoseok took your personal lives seriously. He never crossed the line between the two, so you found it odd he reached out.

“I do,” said Hoseok, reaching inside his desk drawer. “Your private session left you a big tip last night. I thought it’d be best if you received it directly.” You watched as he pulled out a fat white envelope and slid it across the desk.

Just looking at it made you raise an eyebrow. Hoseok’s bright eyes gave nothing away as he waved a hand towards the envelope, beckoning you towards it.

Without thinking, you opened the envelope and let out a little gasp of shock at the thick wad of bills inside. Hundred-dollar bills.

“All this is for me?”

“All of it.”

You shifted out a few bills, ready to hand over your expected dues, but Hoseok stopped you with a hand. “You misunderstand. I already have my cut. Everything within that envelope is yours.”

“Are you serious?” You said, unable to hide the shock in your voice. You had enough money in your hands to pay your whole rent for the month and then some. All from one dance.

The sharp angles of Hoseok’s face softened, and he smiled at your disbelief, a dimple showing out. “Clearly, you left a good impression, but I expect nothing less—you’re one of the best.”

You wave away his words, too embarrassed to accept the compliment, thinking about exactly how you won Seokjin’s favor. Just the thought made your heart race. As much as you hated to admit it, your patron wasn’t the only one affected by that last dance.

“I um—I’ve got to go. But thank you for making sure I got this personally.”

“Of course. Before you leave, your gift came with a letter,” said Hoseok, pointing back to his desk.

You don’t know how you missed it at first, but sure enough, another smaller envelope was on the glass with your name handwritten on the front.

“Oh.”

“I think you might have a new regular. Seokjin seems to be very fond of you.”

. . .

Later that afternoon, you pulled up to work, grateful you remembered to stash a bag with clothes in your car. You quickly run to the back, hoping to change into your uniform. But your boss caught you before you could sneak off to the back.

“You’re late,” she hissed.

Yes, that was becoming quite a habit of yours. You ducked your head apologetically, hoping the woman would scold you quickly. “I’m sorry, I was—”

“—I don’t have time for excuses. A high-ranking guest is coming in tonight, so just do your job.”

You don’t miss the pointedness in her tone—no fuck ups tonight.

“Got it,” you said, holding back your grimace as she berated some more before sending you off to change. All you could do was grin and bear it. Even if you didn’t feel like you had it in you to pull on a fake smile and tend to your special guests.

But that was your job as a hostess. It paid well, though sometimes it almost didn’t feel worth it with the snooty customer base you had to face, but between rent and your school tuition, you literally couldn’t afford to be picky.

Even if you didn’t have the energy to put up with these rich assholes, at least you didn’t have to pull a shift at Paradise after this. You just had to pull yourself together for a few hours, and then you could go home.

You change into a little black dress and switch out your sneakers for a pair of tall heels. It wasn’t exactly a ‘uniform’ uniform, but your second job still has a certain look and aesthetic to maintain. The dress hugged your curves in all the right places, and you can’t help but feel eyes on you as you make your way back to the hostess table up front, heels clicking.

Dionysus was in full swing, each white-clothed table crowded and buzzing, and you watched as people clinked glasses under the chandeliers. But at your post, you kept your eye on the empty room in the back.

Whoever your guests were tonight, if they were truly a big deal, you’d escort them to have their meal in that private room.

Once the opening crowd thins out, the evening goes by slowly for you, and before you know it, you’re sneaking a peek at your phone, trying not to keep your boredom at bay.

There were a couple texts from Hyuna and a picture she sent of herself and the girls at Paradise.

[6:15pm] Babygirl: I’m so BORED when you’re not here🥺

[ 6:16pm]You: Sameeee. Don’t have fun without me!

[6:18pm] Babygirl: You know it’s boring when you’re not here! Miss you tonight 💕

You heart the message, missing her too.

Still no messages from Yoongi.

All his silence does is confirm the feeling in your gut and fuel the quiet resolve to make a decision.

You’re so busy ruminating that you don’t even realize you have guests in front of you until someone clears their throat in front of you.

“Act like you have some sense. The reservation for the Kim Corporation is here.”

You shove down your disdain for your boss and put on your best smile, ready to greet your new guests. Only when you look up do you realize it’s not a new guest after all.

Kim Seokjin stood in front of you, handsome as ever. His fringe frames his face, drawing your attention to his dark eyes and immaculate suit. You could tell from the quality of his clothes that it was expensive, but the white button-down left open on his chest said that looking flawless was effortless on his part. His brows furrowed at the sight of you, but then the confusion cleared, and in its place, Seokjin fixed you with a dazzling white smile and said: “It’s you.”

You barely have time to recover from the blow before you fix your smile in place (the one you use strictly for work; polite and friendly) and greet his party.

“Welcome to Dionysus, Mr.Kim. It’s a pleasure to have you dine with us tonight.”

Seokjin blinked at your formal demeanor, not expecting your casual dismissal of his recognition. But you don’t react—you can’t. No one here knew of your other life, and you planned on keeping things this way.

“Please follow me; I’ll direct you towards our private dining experience.” You quickly turned on your heel, walking forward without sparing so much as a second glance towards him. But you can sense his eyes on you, that hot, molten feeling rising in your body as you lead the party toward the back.

When you stopped before the table, Seokjin pulled out the chair closest to your position, trying to address you once more. “It’s nice to see you again.”

You maintain your plastic smile. “You must be mistaken, Sir; we haven’t met. I’ve heard this is your first time visiting Dionysus.”

“You mean to tell me we haven’t met before?”

“I’m afraid not, sir.”

Seokjin raised an eyebrow, but your facade didn’t waver. If anything, your eyes seemed to embolden, daring him to question your professionalism. You’re so calm and cool that if it were anybody else, Seokjin might have believed himself to be mistaken. But he knows he’s not. As if he could forget your face after last night.

So that’s how you wanted to play this? Fine. Two could play that game. He’d get your attention one way or another.

“Excuse me, I have a special request,” asked Seokjin, successfully grabbing your supervisor’s attention. “Your hostess is so lovely. Is there any way that she could tend to our table tonight?.”

Your eyes widen in shock for a split second, not anticipating this outcome. “I’m sorry, I’m not a part of the waitstaff—”

“—Absolutely,” Your boss cut in. “I’m sure (Y/n) would like nothing more than to take care of your party personally.”

At the mention of your name, Jin’s eyes widened. He simply wanted you near, but his request seemed to come with a little gift now that he knew your name.

The realization must have dawned on you simultaneously since the look on your face is a mix of shock and rage. Jin finds the combination amusing, and he can’t keep the satisfied smirk on his lips, knowing he sneakily earned another night with you.

Serves you right for trying to ignore him. Seokjin gave you a look, cocky and full of ego, relaying this very thought.

You wanted to wipe his smug smirk off. Asshole. You haven’t waited tables since your first year in college, and now, because this guy batted his pretty eyes, you’re right back where you started?

Who does this guy think he is?

You’re beyond annoyed, but all you can do is plaster on another fake smile and join the servers at the table. Thankfully, you’d served with everyone working the table before, so getting back into the flow of things was easy.

You fell into step from memory; everything returned to you from years of practice waitressing. You reached past Seokjin to fill his wine glass, and the asshole had the nerve to look up and smile at you.

You smile back, of course, even though you’re silently fuming, but your eyes tell a different story. You let Seokjin see it, all the anger buried underneath the polite mask as you pour.

But Seokjin’s smile didn’t flinch, didn’t falter. You swear his smile only brightened, the grin spreading across his handsome face.

You didn’t realize you had overfilled his glass until you heard the scrap of his chair across the floor when he jumped back from the table.

You were so distracted you poured the wine right into his lap. But he didn’t have to know that. Even though it wasn’t your intention, you’re more than happy to claim the credit for his displeasure.

“My apologies, Sir,” you said with a smirk.

Seokjin glared at you in response. Now that the shock was gone, you had to stifle a laugh behind your hand seeing his pouty face.

Your boss hissed your name, eyeing you with a tilted head at the mess you were in no rush to clean up.

“Let me help you with that,” you sighed. You bent down, picking up a spare napkin off the table. You dipped it in water and mindlessly dabbed at the spill on his suit.

You were already so close before you realized your mistake. You could smell the heated spice of Seokjin’s cologne, and you were just a breath away from that dazzling face. Just as close as you were the first night you met. The memory of it flashes through your mind—the warmth of his palm cupping your cheek like you were his lover. It’s enough to make your breath hitch.

You met his eyes, and the depth of his dark pools told you you weren’t the only one thinking of your first night together. Seokjin’s gaze dipped, looking at your lips as he wet his own.

It’s that small action that brings you back. What were you doing? Surely you weren’t about to kiss the stranger in the middle of a job? Quickly, you removed your hand from his lap, clearing your throat as you backed away.

Your mind felt hazy, and you knew who was to blame. But what you wouldn’t understand was the fact that Seokjin had any effect on you at all.

You knew it wasn’t his status; you often came across rich men in your work. His looks were unparalleled, but you rarely found attraction towards a pretty face last if you hadn’t liked their personality.

And you didn’t like him, right? No. He wasn’t your type at all. Still, you couldn’t deny the pull felt whenever he was in your presence.

For the rest of the night, you completed service for the party away from Kim Seokjin. Dinner went on in a daze. And before you knew it was closing time. The Kim Party stayed the whole night, which was tiring, but the generous tip they left did lighten your spirits as you exited the building.

You’re halfway out the door, eagerly awaiting a night alone in your apartment, when you hear someone call out your name.

“(Y/n).”

It’s Seokjin. You looked up to find him leaning back against a luxury SUV. “Or should I call you Angel? Both names suit you quite well.”

Dammit. In the heat of the moment, you forgot all about your boss giving away your name. If your two lives weren’t crossed over before, they certainly were now.

You’ve half a mind to ignore him and pretend you didn’t hear him in the first place, but ultimately, you decided to deal with it before things get more out of hand.

You walked up towards him. “Look, I’d appreciate it if you kept that name to yourself.”

“Which name?” He teased, eyes glinting at you in the dark. “They’re both very pretty.”

“I mean it. People don’t know about my other job here.”

“So you live a double life? That’s sexy.”

“It’s not as sexy as you think,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s actually really hard, so don’t make it any harder for me.”

Seokjin tilted his head to the side, studying you. You put up a good front, coming up to him acting all demanding. But he could see the vulnerability underneath it all; a part of you was worried.

“I wouldn’t dream of making anything more difficult for you,” he said, earnestly hoping to put your mind at ease. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Oh…” You weren’t expecting him to acquiesce so quickly. You honestly thought he’d be the type of jerk to tease you and hold it over your head like earlier. But Seokjin immediately respected your boundary; you didn’t even have to put your foot down.

“Thank you,” you said awkwardly.

“Of course.”

His behavior took you off guard, but you couldn’t lose focus. Your name wasn’t the only reason you approached him.

“Um, also, while you’re here, I’d like to give you this back,” you said, reaching into your bag for the envelope. You help it out for him to take. “Thank you for the tip, but I can’t accept this.”

Seokjin stared at your hand. “That was a gift.”

“It’s too much,” you added as if that held any weight.

“I haven’t to politely disagree. I enjoyed myself, and I value your time. I think the amount reflects that.”

“I can’t accept it.”

“Can’t? Or won’t.”

“Okay, I won’t accept it. Take it back.”

“No.”

“Seokjin.”

“(Y/n).”

“Why are you making this so difficult?”

“Love, you’re the one making this difficult.”

“Look,” you said, frustrated at the conversation. “I’m not in the mood for games. I don’t know what your expectations are. But I’m not that kind of girl.”

Seokjin shook his head. “I’m not following…”

“Well then, let me make it clear to you. I said. I’m not that kind of girl.”

You were all up in his face, eyes full of fire, and Seokjin couldn’t help but like it. For a man in his position, very few people had the confidence to speak to him like that. He at once found it incredibly attractive and entertaining, watching you sass him with your neck craned as he looked down at you.

Clearly, you meant to be intimidating, but all Seokjin could think about was how sexy you looked when you were assertive.

“You didn’t read my letter, did you?”

“The letter is irrelevant; I don’t care how rich you are—you can’t buy me.”

“I think you are mistaken. I’m not trying to buy you, (y/n).”

You didn’t buy it. If there was anything you learned in life, it was that nothing ever came free. There was always a price. And this man came from a world where money ruled supreme.

“Then what do you want?”

You. It was the first thing that entered Seokjin’s mind. The thought took him by surprise. It’d been a while since he felt this attracted to anyone. And he certainly didn’t know what he was doing waiting after dinner to talk to you. Something was there, but he knew better than to voice this new feeling aloud.

Instead, he told a partial truth. “I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “That night…. I’ve never seen someone move like that. The way you dance...You captivated me. You were like a goddess.”

You wanted to be mad at him. You really did. But you couldn’t help but feel yourself flush at the compliment and the sincerity in his voice. Men flirted with you often. It was a hazard of the job, but not like this. You’ve heard men highlight your body before, but no one ever mentioned the way you dance with awe in their voice, not just lust.

“It’s only natural to give an offering as your patron,” said Seokjin, winking at you.

Your body betrayed you then, a flush that heated you up. Get a grip! You thought. You weren’t some lovesick teen. You were grown. You would not be swayed by some rich asshole’s stupid flirting.

“Well, I don’t need your money. Here,” you said, thrusting it out in front of you. “You can have it back. I don’t want to owe you anything.”

“You don’t owe me. I wanted to give it to you,” said Seokjin, stepping closer to you. “I think you deserve a lot more, to be honest.”

Seokjin placed his hand over yours, firmly keeping the envelope in your grip. “It was a gift. Nothing more, nothing less. Keep it.”

You’re so close Jin could smell you; your skin is warm and sweet, and your perfume was sultry and floral. Seokjin could drown in it. The scent clouded his senses and, clearly, his judgment because he closed what little distance sat between him and you. Here, he had a front row to your beautiful eyes, and those plush lips, and the only thing running through his head was what it would be like to kiss you.

Seokjin looked at you, really looked at you, and this time, he noticed you were not startled. Your pupils are blown, your chest rising quickly—he’d bet anything that whatever it is going on with him, you felt it too.

But again, you pulled away.

You took a step back to give yourself space and clear your head. Any longer, and you might have kissed him for real. And even though you and Yoongi were barely a thing and planned on ending things, you hadn’t ended them yet. Even though Seokjin had you wanting to cross all kinds of boundaries—you weren’t about to cross that line.

“I um,” You stuttered, “I really can’t convince you to take it back?”

Jin considered your question. “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll take the money back in exchange for a date.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Was he really asking you on a date? “How is that appealing to me? That’s just swapping one problem for another.”

“It would be the best day of your life.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“I’m not hearing a no.”

You sighed. “I don’t want to give you the wrong impression. I’m seeing someone. And even if I wasn’t—”

“Are you exclusive?”

“Well, no—”

“—Then I have a chance?” Said Seokjin, taking a step closer to you. He smiled again, and this time, his eyes crinkled at the corners, and you felt the warmth of his gaze flush all over you.

“I, um—”

Seeing you stutter, Seokjin’s smile brightened. “I do have a chance.”

Stupid, damn feelings.

“You have no chances,” you said, barely recovering from the brilliant attack on your heart. “Because I don’t date clients, remember?” You let words settle between you, their weight grounding you back to reality.

“And now you’ve also popped up at my day job?”

“A charming coincidence, I promise,” said Seokjin, placing a hand over his heart.

“Hmm. Well, I guess I’ll keep your money after all.” Even if he was the most handsome man you’d ever met, you were an adult. Your better judgment kept you from crossing that line.

Seokjin smirked. “Good.”

Good? You narrowed your eyes at him. He looked a little too pleased with your decision. “Did you only propose that because you knew, I’d say no and keep the money?”

“No,” he said, leaning toward entrancing you again with a close-up view of his superior good looks. “I hoped you’d say yes. But I’ll take the consolation prize.”

“Besides, I’m rich,” laughed Seokjin. “It’s not like I need more money.”

And just like that, the moment of infatuation passed. Seokjin was back to being a rich asshole. Perfect. You could work with that.

You backed away from him, heading for your car. “Goodnight, Seokjin.”

“Goodnight, (Y/n)”

It’s not until you’re sitting in your car, catching your reflection in the rearview mirror, that you realize you’ve got a stupid grin on your face.

Immediately, you stopped, catching yourself. It felt nice to be admired and flirted with, but what was your problem? Why were you smiling about some random stranger when you had a—

The bright ping of your phone went, and you reached inside your purse to check your texts.

[9:06pm] Yoongi: Missed you at Paradise tonight? Can I stop by later?

Speak of the devil…Of course, Yoongi would contact you now.

You didn’t owe him any loyalty, but that didn’t mean you felt comfortable talking to other guys. But still, why?

Yoongi wasn’t your boyfriend. So why were you giving him the boyfriend treatment?

“Are you exclusive?”

“Well, no—”

“—Then I have a chance?”

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. Why were you thinking about Seokjin’s words earlier? He wasn’t even a dating option, but he did have a point.

For all intents and purposes, you were practically single, so why were you acting coupled up again?

You look at the three little dots bubbling up from your lack of response. How long were you going to keep doing this? Repeating the same cycle over again?

No. No more.

You fired off a text back: I can’t, busy, then threw your phone on the seat and started up your engine before you could change your mind

The cycle ends right now. You wouldn’t spend the rest of your twenties going back and forth with some guy who only ever wanted to sleep with you.

You’re young. You’re hot. You didn’t have to sit around and wait for some guy to want you. You could get a date with anyone you wanted, hell, even a millionaire!

For a minute, even though tonight was an inconvenience, you’re grateful you ran into Seokjin just for that reminder.

The next time you see Yoongi, you know what you need to do.

You’re ending things up with him. For good.

#bts fic #seokjin x reader #seokjin fic #seokjin smut #bangtanbathhouse #seokjin angst #seokjin fluff #bts fanfic #songfic #my fics.🍪#poc reader #jin x reader

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conitagray · 10 months

Text

i remember it, all too well.

42!miles g morales x reader

summary: you've been dating someone for a year and slowly you realize they've become distant. barely texting you, not showing any admiration, always out clubbing. until you went to their place and see something unspeakably wrong, you snap and they try to come back to you. months later, still broken. you met miles and you two become very close. one day you see them again and you can remember the memories all too well.

warnings: super angst (fluff in the end of COURSE) cursing, bad spanish (i’m so sorry y’all😭) creepy ex bro, cheating.

a/n: WHOOP i started listening to atwtmv for like a 100 times and it gave me the idea to write this (all hail taylor swift!!) this is gonna be so angsty i swear like im so sorry yall 😭 but lemme tell y’all i swear 42 miles has rizz i’m not lying

words: 2.2k

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

your life was pretty fine the past few months since you’ve met your partner.

they were, everything you wanted. they loved you to the moon and back and you said the same thing too.

but a year passed and things started to change, drastically.

they stopped paying attention to you, stopped hanging out with you, was always on their phone and most of all, always went clubbing.

you’d be at your place and it was around 12:45 in the morning, he was supposed to come by.

the first thing that came up to your mind was text him, they were probably busy anyway?

…..

love<3

12:46 am

y/n: babe, wru? you were supposed to come to my place an hour ago.

seen 12:48 am.

y/n : hello?

seen 12:50 am.

……

you sighed, tossing your phone to the side of the bed as u curled up in ball, thinking why they left you on seen.

you decided to go check up on them yourself, so you put your shoes on and walked over to his apartment.

you knocked on their door, seemingly waiting for an answer, there was none.

so you opened the door which was seemingly unlocked, and scanned around the room, calling out their name.

when you heard loud music from his room.

you knocked but there was no answer as you thought the music was drowning your knock so you opened it.

and oh boy were you in for a surprise.

you dropped your purse on the floor as you stood there as if you saw a ghost, but instead you saw them making out with someone else.

“so that’s how shits going huh.” you said bluntly with tears in your eyes as your words jolted both of them up and your partner turned to look at you.

“it’s not what it seems like bab-“ they were protesting, pushing the other person away and walking to you but you cut them off and pushed them away.

“there’s nothing to fucking explain!” you screamed. “its all right infront of me, dont even bother.” you said as the tears flowed out of your eyes, looking away.

“please love im sorry i- just- give me another chance” they tried to grab your hands and you pulled away quickly.

“so you just can call me up again just to break me like a fucking promise huh? i expected better from you.” my voice cracked at every word as i walked away and slammed the door shut.

i was home, on the floor. in a ball of sadness. tears, snot, everything flowing out. while they kept texting me.

…..

unknown number.

1:15 am

un: babe please

un: please im sorry

un: i won’t do it again

un: forgive me

seen 1:20 am.

…..

you knew damn well he was lying so you blocked the number, shutting off your phone and sliding it across the room.

that day, your whole heart broke, you never felt anything anymore, love was completely just a game to you

but do you think everything will change soon?

it was your usual day. wake up, get ready for work, walk, get to work and actually work.

you worked at the cashier in some convenience store.

you’d felt numb and dull the past few weeks and didn’t really have the motivation to do anything, but you had to so you did. but you just remember everything all too well.

you were doing your job as normal and nothing around changed honestly, it was just your average normal day until someone came in that caught your eye.

it was a boy about your age, he was wearing sweatpants and a sweater, the way his jawline stands out and his braids touching his shoulders.

you thought he was cute but you shook off your feelings and went on with your day.

you noticed he was catching a few glances from you, you thought of it as nothing when he paid normally and went out the store.

but he kept coming back to the store every single day for the whole week and you two start to talk a bit more, but not your actual huge conversations.

but this one time. he was in the store picking up a few stuff and bringing it to the counter.

you scanned the items as you put it in a paper bag,

“15.44.” you told him the price.

“keep the change.” he said giving you a 20 and his spanish accent had you rolling on the floor (metaphorically).

you mumbled a thank you as he walked out, you were going to put the 20 in the cash box but suddenly, you saw a note attached to it.

* xxx-xxx-xxxx, my number. text me soon hermosa. - miles:) *

you were shocked to the brim as u held the paper in hand profusely blushing as you started to smile a bit.

did a guy just really give his number out to you?

you kept the note in your pocket, still blushing and went on with your day. until you came back home

you held the note in your hand again, still contemplating if you should put the number in your phone.

you did it anyway.

as you shakily typed the number in your phone, you added his name in the contact number and pressed the message button.

…..

miles(?)

10:05 pm.

y/n: hello?

*minutes pass by and you were doubting a message back from him. but your phone dinged.*

miles(?): hey

*you were shaking in your bed as you saw his reply.*

y/n: you’re miles right?, the guy from the store?

miles(?): the one and only. miles(?): and you’re…?

y/n: sorry.. i’m y/n

miles(?): nice name ;)

*at that point you were shocked by the little winky face he put*

y/n: the same goes to you :)) y/n: so.. weird question but why’d you give me your number?

miles(?): just thought you were cute.

*his reply literally had you in shambles and you didn’t know what to reply with but it hit you. it could be your ex’s friend again trying to get on you for breaking up with them.*

y/n: are u sure? because i swear to god if you’re one of my ex’s friends trying to shit on me for breaking up w them i will literally murder you.

miles(?): i swear, i don’t know who your ex is. but are you okay though?

*i sighed in relief, knowing that they stopped doing it.*

y/n: yeah, sorry i’m just paranoid. y/n: i gotta go, talk to you soon?

miles(?): alright, see ya soon hermosa.

……

you closed your phone and start to smile, but it feels like everything that went down happened was only yesterday, time won’t fly for you. it’s like your paralyzed in your own heartbreak.

you lay down in your bed, thoughts drowning in you as you start to fall asleep.

days turn to weeks and you and miles start to become closer friends. and you wouldn’t deny to admit that you liked him, ALOT.

but you never told him. you were scared of commitment ever since it happened.

you never told him, you never bothered to say anything because he never asked you and you were fine with it. until one day.

you both were on the rooftop at his place laughing about anything and everything, talking about what happens.

until he asks a question.

“so, that day, the day you first messaged me about your ex’s friends shitting on you for what happened, whyd you think i was one of them?” he looked at the stars slyly, glancing at you at times.

“well.” you sighed, fiddling around with your fingers,

“i didn’t know who his friends were, so they would come around at work, giving me their number and i would text them obviously and they would always tell me i was cute or something but the next second they just shit on me saying mean stuff and i kinda just couldn’t trust anyone after that.”

he looks back down to look at you , with an apologetic look on his face, when he went to scoot a bit closer to you.

“can i ask what happened?” he asked as his hand was slightly touching yours as you looked at the stars.

“we were happy for a year, everything was fine but they grew distant. they stopped talking to me and always went to clubs and came back home drunk. they seemed off for so long and i went to their place and saw them making out with someone else and i just kinda lost it, because they did this twice and i lost my shit at that point, i haven’t felt love ever since. i just kinda lost motivation, i really want my old self but i just can’t seem to find it.” tears filled your eyes to the brim as i told him everything.

as the tears start to flow out, he hugged you tightly and rubbed your back. “lo siento mucho querida.” he whispered.

“you did nothing wrong okay? it was all them.” he hugged you tighter.

as he pulled back from the hug, wiping the tears from your eyes.

it was silent for a moment after he pulled away.

“i could change that.” he spoke up after the brief silence that filled between us.

you locked at him surprised, “what.. do you mean?”

“you said.. you would never feel love again right..?” his words were soft when he spoke.

you nodded slowly as you turn to look at him looking at the stars.

“well, i could change that.” his head lowered down to look at you but you looked away.

“how will i know you end up the same as they did?” you looked down looking at your knees when you felt his hand grab your chin and pull you in closer for a kiss.

you were shocked at first but then you slowly melt in to the kiss, finally realizing he was the one.

as he pulled away, he held your hand tightly. “i promise i won’t break your heart mi amor.” he whispered. "ill give you the world, the stars if possible, anything for you."

you felt this wave of love you’ve never felt before and it made you feel full, you went to hug him tightly as you never wanted to pull back

“i love you, miles.”

“te quiero también, mi amor. más de lo que sabes.”

after that day, you and miles started dating and it was nothing like you experienced before.

it was always flowers here, flowers there and he was just a straight up gentleman to you.

you just closed up your shop early tonight to go on your first date with miles, and when you both were walking there, you bumped into someone and both crash to the ground.

“oh my god im so sorr-“ you were frantically picking up their stuff to give it back and when you both look at eachother, you stopped talking. it was your ex.

everything, every single memory of you both flowed down your mind and you remembered it all too well.

“amor are you okay?” miles bent down to check on you when he noticed you giving a dirty glance at your ex, and it hit him.

“yeah i’m fine let’s just go.” you tried to stand up but your ex’s hand pulled you back down and restraining you from standing up.

“what the fuck do you want?” you screamed and it grabbed miles attention.

“please, im sorry i didn’t mean it can things just go back the way it was?” he protested and was on their knees begging you to stay

i pulled my hand out of his grip as we both stood up “i already told you, a million fucking times, no.”

“please i’m sorry, i- i was drunk and i wasn’t thinking straight.”

“so you’re telling me, those both times you were drunk and you weren’t thinking straight? those both times you fucking cheated on me and you weren’t thinking straight? you choosing pleasure over our goddamn relationship and you weren’t thinking straight? you could’ve thought for a SINGLE moment, will this affect my relationship? of course it fucking will you asshole. get out of my sight.” you stood back up and walked opposite where your ex was, but they wouldn’t stop and grabbed your hand again.

“just forgive me plea-“ he was about to get on his knees but miles stood infront of you and grabbed their arm tightly so they could release your arm

“back up bro, y/n already told you they don’t want you. don’t make it harder for us. one step closer and you’re gone got it?” miles let go of his hand as a warning and they nodded and ran away and miles turned to you.

“are you okay querida? you aren’t hurt anywhere are you?” he put his arms on your shoulders, scanning your body for any wounds.

“i’m okay, just a bit shaken up." you sighed, fixing your clothes.

miles was genuinely worried about you and you told him everything's fine as long he was with you.

"i'm so sorry amor that they keep doing that to you." he grabbed yout waist and pulled you in a hug.

"you know ill protect you always right?" he pulled away from the hug.

"promise?" you held out your pinky for a pinky promise and smiled softly.

"promise querida." he took his pinky and hooked it with yours and shook it softly and pulled you in another hug.

although you still remember all the heartbreaking memories all too well, you had him and that was enough for you.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

do not steal, translate, and rewrite without permission.

#angst #fluff #hearts4hobie #across the spider verse #astv x reader #miles 42 #miles morales prowler #miles morales 42 x reader #miles g morales #miles morales 42 #CRYING #ilovehimsomuchudontunderstand #astv #spidermanacrossthespiderverse #miles my beloved

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starsofmilos · 1 year

Text

Caring For You (Adrian Chase x reader)

Request: hiiii could you write adrian chase x gn!reader where he take care of the sick reader?? im totally not rushing you, u can start whenever you want! have a nice day/night!

AHH SUCH A CUTE IDEA! I LOVE THIS!

Masterlist

Warnings: small amount of angst, fluff, mentions of illness, mentions of sex

You thought it was a simple sore throat.

Maybe you just slept with your mouth opened causing it to be dry. That’s all it was. It’s at least what you were trying to convince yourself.

That was until you felt your head start hurting and your nose slowly become congested.

By three o’clock in the afternoon, you were ready to conk out and take some tylenol. Your throat also got worser. It hurt to swallow and the idea of even eating made you nauseated.

You were sick.

A cold as your manager called it. He sent you home giving you the rest of the week to recover. Walking into your home, you immediately stalked to the restroom grabbing some medicine.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Adrian’s voice rang out causing you to jump.

“Yeah! I thought you were at work?” Wincing a bit as you tried to hide the sound of your congestion.

Adrian raised an eyebrow at your tone heading to the restroom, “I did I came out early though. Was gonna go on patrol soon..”

His voice trailed off once he saw the state you were in. Your hair messed up, pale face, and shaky hands.

“Y/N...Are you okay?”

You smiled reassuringly, “Oh yeah don’t worry! I’m fine Adrian just a little-”

You cut off bursting into a coughing fit hiding your face. Adrian patted your back steadying you. “Honey you’re sick.”

“No! No! Just a bit tired that’s all-” Adrian’s gasp cut you off once he placed his hand on your forehead.

“You’re burning up! We need to get you into bed right this instant!” You shook your head at his words trying to resist.

“No! Adrian I swear I’m fine! Just a small cough and sore throat!”

“Yeah nope. We’re getting you into bed and some medicine.”

“I just took some..”

“Good! Now here get settled in bed and I’m gonna make you some tea.” You sighed as he kissed your forehead.

“But you have patrol and I don’t want you missing out because of me-”

“Y/N my lovely girlfriend is sick. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left?” He scoffed in disbelief running to your kitchen. Tossing and turning, you struggled to get comfortable.

It was too hot and cold all at once. Adrian returned helping you up to drink the warm tea. It felt nice and soothing.

“My poor girl all sick. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought I just had a dry throat and the more the day went on I just felt more like crap and then at work I got dizzy so my boss sent me home-”

“Wait why didn’t you call me if you were dizzy at work?!”

“I didn’t wanna worry you and besides I made it home didn’t I?”

Adrian glared at you shaking his head, “You are my girlfriend. You are allowed and I deserve to know when things like this happen.”

“It’s just a cold-”

“A cold now, but what if it was something worser? I’m saying this cause I care. I love you Y/N so I want you to tell me all of this. You’re not a burden.”

“Sorry Adrian..”

Adrian hummed kissing you softly. You pushed him away shaking your head. “You’ll get sick.”

“I can’t get sick babe. Besides I know you want my kisses.”

“I do! But I don’t want you sick Adrian!” You coughed a bit as he laughed shaking his head.

“I promise I won’t. Now I’m gonna make you some soup and we’re gonna lay here and binge watch your favorite movies.”

“Princess Bride?”

“Yes we’ll watch the princess bride.” You grabbed his hand stopping him from going.

“Wait! Can I have cuddles right now instead? I’m not too hungry.”

“That depends have you eaten today?” You stood quiet giving him a sheepish look.

“Adrian look-”

“No! Y/N! You gotta have something in your system so let me make some soup and then you can have all the cuddles you want.”

Adrian kissed you once more heading to the kitchen. You sighed shutting your eyes for a small moment only to fall asleep.

He returned ten minutes later holding a small bowl smiling a bit as you slept peacefully. “Should’ve just let you slept..I can reheat it later.”

Adrian slid in next to you pulling you to his chest sighing as you shook a bit. “Sorry..I fell asleep..” Your hoarse voice whispered out.

“No..don’t apologize you need all the rest you can get.”

“Yeah..you should get going on patrol soon.I promise I’ll be fine-”

“No.”

You whined against him, “You need too though-”

“And you need to be taken care of and trust me I’d rather be here than out there.” He ran his hand through your head laughing as you stared up at him.

“I promise one night without patrol won’t hurt and you always take care of me Y/N. Let me take care of you.”

“Fine..I won’t fight you...”

“Good I promise I’ll win if you try. Now that you’re awake, sit up.” You nodded letting him prop you up.

“Now open wide..Soup is still hot.” You gave him a small pointed look but opened your mouth nonetheless. “It’s campbells chicken noodle..I can’t cook homemade soup.”

“It’s good..I like it. Thank you Adrian.”

Adrian grinned feeding you the whole bowl chuckling a bit as some spilled on your shirt. “Such a messy sicky..”

“Shut up.” You grumbled smiling as he helped you up changing you. “I’m not completely useless you know.”

“I know. I just wanna take care of you. Now come on lay down again.” He changed into his own pajamas pulling you to cuddle up beside him.

“Can we please watch-”

“I’m already putting it on.” He lowered the volume a bit giving you a head massage as you watched the movie.

“i love you. Thank you for taking care of me..”

“I’ll always look out for you and take care of you. I love taking care of you. I just wish you wouldn’t fight me on it sometimes.”

“I’ll try to stop..” Adrian shook his head.

“Now we both know that’s a lie, but that’s okay. I love a challenge.” Adrian whispered to you kissing your forehead. You sneezed whimpering a bit.

“I’ll get you more medicine soon.”

“Thank you..” You cuddled into his chest shutting your eyes again. Adrian rubbed your back humming a small tune.

“Get some sleep. We’ll get you better in no time.”

#adrian chase #fanfiction #adrian chase x reader #vigilante fanfiction #adrian chase x you #vigilante x reader #vigilante peacemaker #peacemaker #adrian chase peacemaker #fanfic

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gurugirl · 1 year

Note

Heyy, how you doinggg!! Could u write smthg abt a reader with psoriasis.. maybe she's insecure to go out in a dress or smthg and harry helps her feel better. Mines been pretty bad recently and I could use some fluffrry 😕🤧 also I love your ficsss,, they're so goodddd I'm obsessed.

A/n: sorry this took so long! Just a note - I’m not familiar with psoriasis but I did read a little about it before writing this bit. I didn't go into specific detail about it but I hope it's something you were looking for anon. If anything doesn’t sound right let me know!

Warning: none really - reader has psoriasis and feels insecure but this is just fluff 💕 652 words

Lately you were feeling like the skin on your body was revolting. You would go through phases where it was worse than others and while your current psoriasis flare up wasn’t as bad as you’ve had, it still had you feeling insecure and it didn’t feel good, it was difficult to ignore by just covering up.

“You really don’t want to go out tonight? Everyone’s going to be there, babe. C’mon…” Harry spoke into the phone.

That was worse. Everyone? God you’d rather stab your eyes out with a butter knife.

“I’m just not feeling up to it tonight, Harry. You go. You’ll have fun!” You tried to making it sound like you wanted him to go and have fun without you and that you were okay, but the truth was it made you feel very upset. You hated it. You’d love to go out with all your friends and Harry but in the moment, you were not feeling social. You didn’t want to try and find the right outfit and deal with anyone asking you about the lesions on your skin.

You could hear Harry sigh on the line, “I’m coming over.”

He wouldn’t take no for answer. He showed up at your apartment a half hour later and immediately cupped your face and drew you into him with a sweet kiss. You were still getting used to how much Harry didn’t care about your psoriasis. It never bothered him, he never treated you like you were anything but his beautiful girlfriend.

“Let’s find you a cute dress, baby,” he dragged you to your room and brought you to your closet.

“Harry, seriously. You just go. I’ll be fine. I just want to relax at home,” you watched him rummage through your clothes and pull out five different dresses.

He didn’t ignore you per se, because he smirked at you, making eye contact as he walked past you and laid your dresses out on your bed. But he didn’t respond to you verbally either.

He pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side as he looked at the dresses, “Hmm… the blue one is my personal favorite. Would you feel comfortable wearing that one tonight? Or do you like another one?”

You stood next to your boyfriend and rubbed your hands over your face, “Harry…” you looked up at him and pouted, “I just don’t feel pretty today. I don’t think any of them will look good on me.”

Harry shushed you and brought you into his arms, gently swaying you back and forth. He held you close to his body and you leaned your cheek on his chest.

“You’re fucking gorgeous. You can make any of these dresses look good. You’re a goddess. I want my girlfriend with me tonight. Want to show you off and have you by my side all night. I like your company. No one there is half as interesting as you are. Need my girl with me,” he kissed the top of your head and you crumbled.

Harry was always doting on you and telling you how pretty you were. It didn’t always work, but sometimes when he’d really charm you and say sweet things he’d convince you to go out when you were feeling less than pretty.

“Fine. I like the blue too,” you spoke and Harry grasped your arms and held you out so he could look at you.

He had a big, goofy, dimpled grin on his face, “Yeah?! We’ll have fun, babe. I’m so glad you’re gonna come with me!”

You got dressed and did your hair and Harry made you twirl for him, “Hot. Hottest girl in the world. Are you ready for a fun night?” He grabbed your arm and kissed the top of your hand, dragging his lips up your wrist to your forearm.

You laughed and nodded, “I’m ready to have some fun.”

Thank you for reading! I'd appreciate any support you can give! Whether a comment, reblog, or buying me a coffee - it's all appreciated.

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Xoxo

Tags: @michellekstyles @ssaama @angelqueen99 @sombrioinvernoemveneza @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @dancinsunflowerkiwi @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @harrys-foxy @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @evelynlarue @chaptersleftunwritten @anothermannharry

#harry styles #ask #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #fluff #harry styles fluff #blurb #harry blurb #harry styles writing

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teenandbeyond · 2 years

Note

hi!! this is my first time requesting in awhile and it might be a little specific? 😭 so thank you if you do it and its fine if not

anyways the request: so can i get a bakugou x reader maybe? (or kirishima if u dont want to write for him). reader dislocated their shoulder (dominant hand so they cant do anything) and is now on bed rest?? idk i just want comfort bc my shoulder has dislocated twice in 3 days n i have been struggling big time 💀 im used to doing things by myself and not asking for help 24/7

i hope this is coherent 😭

Bakugo x Injured. Reader

This is super late, huh? Hope despite that it still brings some type of comfort.

Want more from me? Masterlist 2

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

💥Let Me💥 (MHA or My Hero Academia)

Warning(s): Cursing(But it's Bakugo, sooo), Fluff

Bakugo refuses to let you do anything by yourself in this state

✨✨✨✨

“What the hell are you doing?” you heard a familiar voice growl.

You turned like a deer in headlights, “Uh, um…I’m…praising the cabinets?”

Your friend and crush--but he didn’t need to know that--raised a blonde brow, “Praising the cabinets.”

“Yes! I’m very religious with them, they store our wonderful plates—”

“Stop with that bull crap, why are you up? You’re on bed rest.”

“It was boring. I'd just sit around all day and do nothing.”

He scoffed, gently nudging you out of the way, “Do you not understand what bed rest means, dumbass? You’re not supposed to be getting up, you’re supposed to be resting.”

“I know, Bakugo…I’m just…used to doing everything for myself, not being so helpless,” you sighed.

His shoulders dropped in a silent sigh, “Yeah, I get it. But you’d be an idiot to make it worse and never get better. School without you is boring, so you gotta get back as soon as possible.”

He groaned as soon as he saw the shit-eating grin on your face, distracting himself with continuing the meal you were making.

“You miss me, huh?”

“I don’t fucking miss you! You’re just one of the few people who can keep up with me!”

“That sounds like ‘missing’ to me.”

“Shut up!” he barked.

“Why are you here alone? Isn’t school over?”

He shrugged, “It is, everyone but me got punished. They have to stay an extra hour to train.”

“I’m guessing you passed the test because you’re way better than everyone else?” you rolled your eyes.

“Exactly. Yeah.”

With a huff, you shake your head.

“Cocky-ass.”

“Go lay down, why are you still here, nerd?”

“I’m watching you. It’s not often you get to see Bakugo Katsuki cook,” you grinned.

He turned to you with the darkest glare you’ve ever seen on him, “I swear if I have to tell you one more fucking time to lay down.”

“Fine! Fine!” with a pout, you make it to your room.

Thirty minutes later he comes in with a plate, setting it on the nightstand next to your bed.

“How in the world did you hold a steaming plate with your bare hand?” you blink in awe.

He actually chuckled at that, “I have explosions come out of my hands on a regular basis, I think I can handle a little plate, [N/N].”

“You and your nicknames,” you reach out to take the chopsticks.

“What are you doing? You’re not gonna be able to eat without your dominant hand. You can barely use the other one.”

You shrug, “Yeah, I’ve been trying to learn and use the other side so I can do more.”

You yelp as you drop the chopsticks you were awkwardly holding.

“How’s that goin’ for you?”

“Shut up! I have to figure something out, I’m hungry.”

“I…you,” he muttered under his breath, his cheeks flushing a little.

“What was that? You’re loud any other time,” your inquire with furrowed brows.

“I can feed you…”

“…”

“Oi! Don’t laugh!”

You stifle the laugh, “Well, I can’t laugh too hard anyway.”

“I just don’t want to sit and watch you complain about stuff.”

“Thanks, but it’s okay, I got it.”

Then you proceed to hiss as you trigger your shoulder.

“Do you, now?” a smirk twitched onto his face.

“Fine.”

You found yourself getting flustered as he fed you, surprised by how calm and gentle he was.

“Don’t swallow too fast, idiot! It’s not a race!”

In between eating, if you needed anything, he’d grab it for you.

“You know Bakugo, you’d be a good boyfriend,” you told him honestly.

“H-Huh?”

“You’re very caring--more than what it seems, anyway.”

His eyes flickered down to the plate to grab more food, “I’m not caring…you just…look so pathetic trying to do so much when you’re supposed to rest…I don’t want you to hold the class back by prolonging your injury.”

Considering how many pauses were in that sentence, you didn’t really believe his reasoning.

“It’s okay, thank you for caring about me.”

He growled leaning toward you, “I just told you—”

You kiss his cheek out of gratitude, “--Just take the thank you, Bakugo.”

Startled he pulls away, face darkening in color, “I—You—Dumbass! Don’t do things like that so suddenly!”

You hear a knock at your door, “Hey, [Name]! We’re all back now! Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

You smile, “Thanks, Eiji! But Bakugo’s been helping me, so I don’t need anything right now!—You can come in, I don’t bite, you know!”

Once Kirishima enters, he looks in between you and Bakugo, seemingly putting pieces together.

Then he gives Bakugo a look that you don’t understand.

“Shut up, Shitty Hair!”

He chuckles, not able to hide his smirk, “Hm? But I didn’t say anything, Baku-bro.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!”

“No, what are you talking about?”

“Stop playing innocent!”

You smile, warmed by their banter.

“That looks good, can I take a bit, [Name]?”

“No! That’s just for [Name], you don’t get any, Kirishima!”

You pout, “Aw, why can’t he get any, Bakugo? He only wants a bite.”

“T-that’s because…Shut up!”

“We didn’t say anything…”

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo #bakugo fluff #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x you #bakugo comfort #anime #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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softxsuki · 1 year

Note

Hi Han ;) for your valentine's event.. could I please request too? I hope you're okay btw! I love your writing and can't wait to read more! <3

Id like a Beelzebub obey me X female reader valentine's letter story please!

The pet names I really like are marshmallow and well.. any food related things in general, especially cause it's Beel TT i know he'd do that

I would like the letter to be about Beel writing how proud he is of reader and how he really wants me to also be sure to eat well enough. I have massive struggles with my self image and my eating pattern is still a mess. I feel like Beel would be such a great support and he would never get mad when I try and it doesn't go as planned.. idk why but i really like the thought of him taking care of me.. despite me being a people pleaser myself.

I want our relationship to be romantic and very close. Like a few years in a relationship already?

I already feel like I wrote too much but I imagine going home (our shared home) and finding the letter and how he's a lil later than usual cause he's getting groceries and how he's gonna cook dinner and just fneidneje once he's home.. I cry from his cute letter and he's worried but I explain why I cry and djwndkdjjs

Is this too much?? SORRY

BUT THANK U

Beelzebub's Comforting Letter To His Girlfriend

Valentine's Day Letter Event Pt.2 (CLOSED)

Pairing: Beel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of food, eating problems

Genre: Fluff, Comfort

Post-Type: Letter

Word Count: 700

Summary: In which Beel isn't home when you arrive home and you find the letter he left for you

[A/N: Suzy <3 I hope you enjoy. Thank you always for your support!]

You switch on the light to your shared home with Beelzlebub, just arriving back home after a long day of seeing your family. He had followed you from the Devildom, not wanting to be apart from you ever again. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you’d let him, hence why you were now living together.

Though, the usual bright space was now dark, meaning no one was home. Odd, since Beel was usually there before you. You shrug it off though and continue into your home, closing the door behind you and making your way into the kitchen.

A piece of paper that wasn’t there this morning is hung up on the refrigerator, so you go over to inspect it. It reads;

Dear Marshmallow,

Happy Valentine's Day! I went out to the grocery store to buy some things to cook for dinner (and extras in case the ingredients don’t last the walk home). I want to make you something special for dinner and some other treats as well, but those are a surprise.

I just want to tell you that I’m proud of you. I know you’re struggling with maintaining healthy eating habits, but I see how hard you’re trying. You know you’re not alone, right? I want to help you feel better about your situation. I know I’m not exactly the best example because I eat too much and I don’t want you to feel like you’re not eating enough, but I can try to do better for you.

We can eat together at your pace–whatever you want, but tonight I’ll make your favorite and we can take our time eating it together. Whatever you can’t finish, I’ll finish it for you, cupcake.

You’re doing so well, I can’t be prouder of you. My beautiful marshmallow, I could just eat you up (but I won’t or else I’ll miss you :( ) Don’t be frustrated, it’ll take time to get to where you want to be, but we’ll figure it all out as we go. You can do it! I’m cheering you on.

I hope you enjoy dinner, along with another little surprise I have for you!

I’ll be home soon!

Love,

Beel <3

As you finish reading your boyfriend’s letter to you, you wipe the few tears that had fallen from your eyes. You’ve been struggling with eating properly for a while and each time you couldn’t eat enough, you always felt guilty. You had no idea Beel was paying attention to you all this time. He was more observant than you thought.

You jump slightly as the front door opens and all you hear is chewing as Beel walks into the kitchen. Many shopping bags are hanging on his arms as he walks in, but they’re all abandoned as he sees the tears running down your cheeks.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” He’s inspecting you for injuries, worried about you right away.

“I’m sorry, I’m okay really. Just a little emotional,” you sniffle as you reassure him, “I just finished reading your letter. It was very sweet, thank you.”

He sighs in relief, bringing you into a hug and kissing your tears away. Wordlessly, he turns away for a second, taking something out of one of the bags he brought and gives it to you.

They were flowers–Tulips to be exact.

“The woman at the store told me they symbolize happiness, romance, and prosperity. All things I want for us, so I got them. They also reminded me of you, very pretty,” he explains.

“They’re lovely, sweetie. Thank you so much,” you kiss his cheek with gratitude, feelings blessed to be so loved by this man.

He melts under your touch, pulling you in for more. He can’t get enough of you. It’s only when his stomach growls that he finally pulls away, remembering the groceries he bought.

You spend the rest of the evening in the kitchen together, cooking. He ends up feeding you (and himself) a few snacks in between that he knows will sit well in your tummy. Beel always wants the best for you and he wants to make sure that you know how proud he is of you.

It was a simple, yet pleasant evening together <3.

REGULAR REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

EVENT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

Posted: 2/14/2023

#obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me shall we date #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub x mc #beel x mc #beelzebub x reader #beel x reader

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hannuhbee · 2 years

Text

𝗿𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗲 𝟲𝟲

you catch up with eddie munson at a hawkins diner. [wc; 1.2k]

pairing; eddie munson x gn!eader

content; 90’s kinda sorta (never explicitly mentioned) swearing, smoking, kinda friends to (almost) lovers, fluff

a/n; i honestly have no idea what this is but i wanted to write :) written on my phone so mistakes will be fixed later, i also don’t know how radios play music in the 90’s whoops hope u enjoy nonetheless

“no fucking way, do my eyes deceive me?” a familar booming voice calls.

you turn, expecting to see a jock you went to school with, looking to torture you again. instead, the infamous metalhead of hawkins high.

“do my eyes deceive me?” you laugh, walking closer. “thought you would’ve wanted to get outta this shithole?”

you’d walked into a diner, different and the same at the same time. it was the only place that was open in hawkins at nine pm. you were just looking for a place to get some coffee and get back on the road, not looking for anyone in particular.

eddie leans back in the booth, his hands linking behind his head. “s’what i’m working towards. thought you’d be in some prestigious college, what happened?”

you allow yourself to sit down in front of him, his face softening. you looked so good in the neon lights.

“dunno, didn’t really get accepted into any good ones. i wouldn’t survive college anyway.” you shrug.

“maybe you didn’t apply to the right ones.” eddie suggests, sipping a mysterious liquid. concealed mainly by the coffee mug, you could only see that it was definitely not coffee or tea. did diners have alcohol?

“maybe.” you agree, calling over the waitress to ask for coffee.

eddie notices the way your eyes droop like you’re going to pass out any moment. “i can get you something a little stronger, mo always hooks me up.” he holds up his mug, confirming the mystery.

you shake your head, waving him off. “can’t drink, driving.”

“you on a trip or something?”

you shrug. “sorta, just got back from chicago.”

“the fucks in chicago?”

you laugh loudly, then cover your mouth like anyone else was in the diner. “that’s what i was trying to figure out. turns out, nothing that interests me.”

eddie smiles. “got it - avoid chicago.”

you shake your head, sipping your scalding hot coffee, wincing at your burnt tongue. “i can picture you there, though. you and your band.”

“you remember my band?”

you scoff playfully. “‘course i do! i was corroded coffin’s like, number one fan!”

eddie’s eyes light up, and his face softens even more. he never knew you were there, never knew you liked metal, never knew you liked his music. “you were?” his voice is quiet, like he’s not supposed to be asking.

“for sure! i really like the metallica covers.”

“those were my favorite too.” he smiles at you, the way the neon lights make your eyes look unreal and how they highlight your cheekbones is stunning. eddie munson was stunned. you stunned eddie munson.

“so,” you clear your throat. “why’re you still here? it’s been fucking forever.”

he shrugs. “i think wayne’ll get lonely if i leave, plus i’ve got a gang of young teens on my tail, always gotta keep them in check.”

you nod as you know about the kids, hellfire. “how’s wayne?”

“he’s good. your folks?”

you snort and shrug. “wouldn’t know, haven’t spoken to them after i left.”

eddie stands up, looking to see if you follow him. you do. he pays as he continues the conversation.

“why’d you leave?”

the air outside is cold, whipping at your hair and biting your cheeks. “i think if i stayed in hawkins any longer my brain would explode. or, y’know, i’d get cursed or something.”

“hawkin’s is cursed.” eddie agrees, pulling out a cigarette. he holds it to you after he takes a drag.

you gladly take it from him. “shit.” you sigh.

“uh, you said you were driving more for a trip, what’s that about?”

you light up, because finally you get to talk about your plans. “i,” you hold a hand to your heart, closing your eyes. “am going to be the best radio host this world’s ever seen.”

“no shit?”

you nod. “gonna go back to chicago, catch up with a friend, then go to california alone. route 66.”

eddie thinks for a second, trying to figure out how long that would take, chicago to california. he gives up. “scenic route, huh?”

“yeah, gonna see if any state calls to me. like, i might really enjoy fucking, i don’t know, new mexico!”

“what’s in new mexico?”

you think for a second, then sigh. “i don’t know. aliens and tumbleweeds i think.”

“georgia o’keefe, that artist. you like art, no?”

you nod. you had decided to look for her work while in new mexico, a new piece for a future collection. “i do. i like georgia o’keefe.”

you fall into silence, the sound of eddie coughing every once in a while.

“i better go, it’s real late.” you feel bad, leaving him. eddie’s not like he was in high school, he’s calmer, but he’s still got that edge. you like him.

“right. safe travels.” he smiles, putting out his hand.

you take it, giving it a sturdy shake. “i promise i won’t die in the desolate new mexican desert.”

“or the arizona desert!” eddie calls as you walk back to your car.

you laugh loudly and wave behind you. the inside of your car isn’t much better than the outside, the seat freezing on your legs. huffing as the heater was heating yet, you let the car idle.

it’s perfect, cause eddie can catch up.

he taps on your window, indicating for it to be rolled down. you roll it down. “wanna give you something, wait here.” he runs to his van, digging through something in the passenger that you can’t see.

once he reappears, his hair is messy and he’s got a pen in one hand, a cassette in the other.

he leans on the hood of your car, glancing at you every so often as he scribbles down whatever on the slip of paper. when he finishes, he stuffs it back in the case and hands it to you.

“for the radio. if you want, i mean it’s fine if you don’t want to-“

“yeah, i’ll do that. i’ll play it at every goddamn radio station i work at. i promise you, eddie munson.”

he laughs, but it’s sad - the thought of you leaving and being in another state and thinking about him. “you’re already the best radio host i’ve ever seen.”

you smile and he smiles and it feels like the world stops.

“i’ll let you go now, but i’m serious don’t die in the desert. if i see a shriveled up you on the news i’m going insane.” he points a finger at you as he walks away.

“you can count on it, munson!”

eddie climbs back into his van and you roll up the window. once he’s pulled out of the parking lot, saluting you, and finally out of sight, you inspect the cassette tape. a hand drawn corroded coffin slip on one side, and;

eddie munson, call me at every payphone you find and update me on your journey. or don’t if you died, but don’t, cause that’d suck. :)

and his phone number on the backside.

you can’t stop the feeling that’s rising in your stomach. you turn the cassette over and over again in your hand until you’re confident you can recite his whole message and number from memory. you place it in the glove compartment and shut it loudly, listening for the click.

hawkins sucked, but it was good for one thing, that thing being eddie munson and his band.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson #stranger things blurb #stranger things fluff #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

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lizzie-is-here · 2 years

Text

acta, non verba

tfatws- part v

summary: in which the falcon and the winter soldier become captain america and the white wolf.

wordcount: 5.1k

warnings: cussing, violence, death (karli), sam’s speech hitting too close to home, fluff, john walker

a/n: this officially marks a break in acta, non verba. i’ll still write some headcanons and short stories, but until phase four fleshes out some more, i don’t wanna risk writing in something that doesn’t hold up to somewhat-canon later. the good news is i have short stories planned for hawkeye, nwh, and maybe moon knight to add to acta, non verba, so we’ll see where it takes us. hope u enjoy, love u 🤍

series masterlist

When you and Bucky returned to New York, you were ready for a few more days of relaxation. The matchmakers had been quick to tell every fucking Avenger they had contact with, but they’d been polite enough to not harass you too much.

Amidst the chaos, you had caught up on sleep and your favorite TV shows, also being able to organize your room for the first time in months. You were alright with having an even longer break. However, your hopes were quickly dashed.

You and Bucky were both relaxing on your balcony, a fluffy blanket tucked around your shoulders as you laid on top of him. You were talking about future missions, discussing a low-threat mob that had popped up recently.

“Their cover is, like, a moving company,” you explained, trying to recall the name. “It was hella stupid. Oh… What was it… Oh!” You snapped as the name came to mind. “‘Trust-A-Bro’!”

“‘Trust-A-Bro?”

“Yeah. It’s really bad.”

And then police sirens rang out, shortly followed by the whirs of helicopter blades and the telltale spotlights that told you all you needed to know. You sighed, resting your head on Bucky’s chest.

“Damn. I was kind of ready to do nothing,” you complained as you retreated inside. You grabbed the gold chain that held your suit, clipping it on as the super-soldier began tugging on the layers of tactical gear he wore.

“It’s never that simple, is it?” he added, watching curiously as you grabbed a spare grappling hook and clasped it around his vibranium arm. “What’s this?”

You opened your balcony door again, standing atop the chair and placing one foot on the railing.

“Doll?” he asked, hands out to catch you.

“The street’s too crowded and there’s gonna be roadblocks set up. We’re going in from above.”

“Above? What-“ He sighed in realization. “Oh, oh no.”

You laughed, pulling him up to where you stood. “Yes, Jamie. C’mon, if I can do it, you can too.”

He eyed the drop. His breath wavered as he threw a nervous grin at you. “Kiss for good luck?” You obliged, pecking him on the lips before you pushed yourself backward, flipping once in a free fall before shooting your hook at a nearby roof.

The wire stretched enough to prevent whiplash, and you ran along the side of the building until you were able to boost yourself onto the roof. You landed in a crouch, calling Sam.

“You seeing this?” you asked, sending him the news.

“I’m already on my way,” he responded. “Tell Barnes thanks for the gift.”

You watched as said man hyped himself up, adjusting the grappling hook. “Thank him yourself.”

You hung up, watching as Bucky followed your path, albeit with a bit less grace and a bit more flailing.

He landed beside you with a thud, groaning as the grappling hook retracted with a snap.

“How do you do that?” he panted, slowly standing up.

“Practice. C’mon, hon. We’ve got a few blocks to go.”

From there, you mainly leaped from roof to roof, following the flashing red and blue lights to the GRC meeting. As you stood above the building, waving at a passing helicopter.

“Ready for the fun part?” you asked, embedding the hook into the roof. Before he could answer, you jumped from the edge, running down the glass building to land softly on the ground. The hook came rushing down with a flick of your hand, clicking into place.

A loud scream caused you to look up.

The ex-Winter Soldier came zooming down, trying to brush the panic off of his face as a few officers and guards glanced over.

“You owe me,” he grumbled, making his way through the crowd as you followed, smiling at his misfortune.

“I’m almost there,” Sam said over the comms.

“What’s the plan?” Bucky asked. You nodded as you passed security, their stances relaxing when they recognized the two Avengers.

“Karli’s gotta be close. Keep your eyes open.”

“Well, it could be anybody,” you warned.

“Sergeant Barnes. Agent (L/N),” an officer acknowledged, stepping aside to let you both pass.

“And by the way, I called in some backup.”

“Excuse me, sir. Are you supposed to be here?” A man in a beanie approached. You raised your eyebrow.

“Sharon,” you greeted. She tapped the side of her face, deactivating the digital prosthesis and tugging off the hat. Bucky stared in horror. You supposed it may have reminded him of the Red Skull.

“It’s me,” she admitted.

“Sharon, what the hell are you doing here?” he asked.

She shrugged nonchalantly, as if she wasn’t a fugitive. “Relax. No one’s looking for me here.”

“Do I hear Sharon?”

“Unfortunately.” You smacked the soldier’s arm.

She ignored him. “Hey, Sam. I thought I’d get the band back together.”

“Thank you. You’re risking a lot coming here.”

“I hear pardons aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, anyway.”

“Depends on the therapist,” Bucky quipped. You grinned, turning to watch more police circle the building.

“You just don’t like Raynor,” you corrected. He nodded, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“They’ll move on the building soon. Be ready.” You nodded as something zoomed past overhead, most likely Sam. The red alarm lights continued to flash from the building, the menacing glow coating the area.

The three of you began to move towards the entrance as screams echoed from an upper floor. You watched as Sam busted through the glass, new suit on and shield in hand.

“You guys, what’s going on on your end?” he asked.

“Nothing. All quiet,” Bucky responded.

Sharon scanned the area. “No one’s moving toward the building.”

“Karli’s not coming in. She’s trying to force everybody out. It’s a misdirect. We gotta keep everybody inside.”

You shoved the glass doors open, wincing as the red light invaded your senses. You passed through a metal detector, which beeped as soon as Sharon made it through. Thankfully, your vibranium tech didn’t activate metal detectors.

“You guys are gonna have to do something. Don’t let ‘em out of the building,” Sam shouted over comms.

“Here’s one,” Bucky said, pointing to a mustachioed man. “We’ll get evac. C’mon.” He gestured for you to follow him and you unfolded a staff, storming through the building as you both scanned for any officials. One woman approached, a phone in her hand.

“Mr. Barnes. Ms. (L/N). It’s Karli.” The fact that this random woman was a Flag Smasher was mildly alarming, but the ex-Winter Soldier took the phone anyway, holding it between you two so you could hear as well.

“Karli?” he asked.

“Aren’t you tired of fighting for the wrong side, Mr. Barnes?”

He scoffed as you both rushed down a flight of stairs. “I’ve done this before, kid. I know how it ends.”

“It doesn’t matter if I don’t survive this. I’m fighting for something bigger than myself. And with all the bodies you both have collected, have you ever been able to say the same?” Maybe at one point, her words would have hurt. But now, she just seemed naive.

“You don’t think we ever fought for something bigger than ourselves? That’s all I tried to do. And I failed twice.” You frowned, filing away the comment to later pester him about. “You think your cause justifies all this death, but in the end, the nightmares won’t go away. You’re gonna remember all the ones you killed. Trust us.”

“Don’t do this, Karli,” you warned her. “Don’t go down this path.”

“If that’s how you both feel, you should sit this one out.”

“Come on, you know I ain’t gonna do that,” the super-soldier responded. When she spoke again, her tone was harsh.

“Well, thank you. I’m glad you took my call. You’ve been a big help.” With that, she hung up. A distraction.

“Damn it!” he snapped, pocketing the phone. You both sprinted down corridors, eventually finding two motorcycles.

“Seriously, you two, you had one job,” Sharon sighed in disappointment.

You ignored her as Bucky snapped, “You worry about your guy.” The two of you sped off, quickly adjusting to the bikes. It wasn’t nearly as intuitive as your own, but it would do. You made it out of the parking garage and slipped between a roadblock, Sam and Sharon conversing the whole while.

“Bucky! (Y/N)!” Sam yelled, probably about to request your help with the hostages in the helicopter. You rolled your eyes. “Which one of us flies again, Sam? Oh, yeah, not us.” As you turned a sharp corner, you spotted the armored vehicles just as the Flag Smashers threw out the police and took control of the cars.

Muttering curses under your breath, you exchanged an annoyed glance with Bucky before speeding up, straight at the concrete barriers. You braked at the last moment, hurtling over the edge and directly into one of the rebels. One sent a kick to your shoulder as Karli jumped from the car she was in.

As you and Barnes tag-teamed a soldier, another began to pour a container of gasoline on one of the vehicles, lighting it with a tiny spark. People began to scream as ten-foot flames licked up the side of the car. You slammed the staff against the Flag Smasher’s head, effectively knocking him out.

“Hold on!” Bucky yelled, beginning to work on the door as you tried the windows, smashing against them but only creating a hairline fracture. You yelled in frustration as Bucky struggled with the door, looking around to stop Karli when a voice echoed down the street.

“Morgenthau!” John Walker, back and with what appeared to be a knockoff shield fit for a knockoff Cap. It was haphazardly welded together and seemed to be more of a showpiece than an actual weapon. “Let’s finish this.”

“I didn’t mean to kill your friend,” she said. “I don’t wanna hurt people that don’t matter.”

“You don’t think Lamar’s life mattered?” Walker boomed. He was deranged, but he was distracting her as you tried to help Bucky by using your vibranium staff as a crowbar.

“Not to my fight. I just want the people on that truck.”

“Oh, yeah? Then why’d you light it on fire you fucking prick?” you yelled, grunting as you strained against the lock mechanism on the doors of the vehicle. They began to fight, leaving you feeling helpless. Bucky punched at the device, eventually managing to damage it enough to expose the wiring.

You gasped, charging up the Black Widow gauntlet on your wrist. You aimed the glowing weapon at the lock. “Back up, Barnes.” You fired it, and the red electricity crackled through the tech, allowing the lock to fall from the truck. With a shout, Bucky wrenched the door open and you both began to help the hostages down from the suffocating metal box.

“Thank you for saving us,” one man gasped. You smiled as the ex-Winter Soldier stared, as if in disbelief that he’d just been thanked.

“You’re welcome,” he said to no one. With a chuckle, you pointed towards where Walker was going up against multiple Flag Smashers.

“I guess we have to help him,” he grumbled to which you nodded. He ran forward just as one was winding back a parking meter, fully ready to knock Walker’s head from his shoulders. As Bucky went up against one, you took on Karli, who had swiped up the meter and was now swinging it at you. You unsheathed your sword, parrying her enhanced blows with the strength of vibranium.

Bucky slammed a chain against her before receiving a kick to the chest, sending him flying backward and off a ledge.

“Bucky!” you yelled, racing after him and not really thinking about anything other than the fact that you just watched one of your best friends and first crush in years plummet from an unknown height. Without another thought, you cast your grappling hook into concrete and leaped down, landing softly an embarrassingly short amount of time later. The drop was 50 feet at the most, and Bucky Barnes had survived a 200-foot freefall from a plane a few days earlier.

So maybe you weren’t thinking straight. But before you could even defend your not-really-logic logic, another Flag Smasher came jumping down, a giant metal beam in his hands and ready to give you one whopping concussion. Bucky caught the beam with his metal arm, wincing from the strain. Over comms, Sam yelled to someone else something about, “Boy, you just earned this ass-whooping!” You couldn’t help but think he was right.

You readied a baton and swiped at the offender, catching his neck with one particularly wide strike. He convulsed, the red sparks shooting through his muscle and probably permanently damaging his nerves.

“Suck my dick,” you spat, tilting your head when he rolled over with a groan. A well-placed taser shock put him back into the dirt.

Bucky stared at you, eyes wide and still in a bit of shock that you jumped after him with little-to-no hesitation. “That was really hot,” he muttered. You smiled, helping him stand.

“Yeah?” you asked, leaning forward with a smirk. Just as he was about to pull you towards him, Sam’s voice blared through your earpiece at an unnecessarily high volume.

“Would you two stop flirting in my ear?” You grumbled.

“I thought you wanted me to do something about it, Sammy,” you lilted, listening as Walker continued to scream at whatever he was fighting. With the amount of anger issues in that man, you wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to fight a wall.

Sam stammered incredulously. “Yeah. ‘Do something about it.’ Not get saucy in my goddamn ear.”

“I know you did not just say ‘saucy’ to me in that context,” you growled, about to berate him when one of the armored vehicles crashed onto the metal scaffolding above you, breaking several beams and bending some others. It teetered on the edge, and you and Bucky both stared up at it, watching the steel beams strain under the weight.

Oddly, Bucky wasn’t trying to move out from under the car. His movements were calculated. as if he was placing himself exactly where the truck would fall.

“I’m not about to let you catch a truck,” you hissed, not taking your eyes off of said car.

“I can’t just let them fall,” he countered.

You scoffed. “So you’re just gonna catch a military vehicle filled with people?”

Then, the car edged backward, and the battered shield that Walker had made fell into the sand. So he was the one tugging it back. Maybe he wasn’t too bad.

And then he, Karli, and another Flag Smasher careened through the scaffolding, and the car began to fall again. Of course. You tried to usher them from under the kill zone, but soon found that there was no need. A flash of red, white, and blue shot past.

Sam Wilson was pushing the truck up, his new suit donned and shield strapped to his back. This was the first time you were properly seeing it, and damn it looked good. Shuri truly had a gift.

Three small drones deployed from his pack, helping him push the truck to safety. You turned to Bucky as he helped Walker. “You got him new Redwings?”

He nodded sheepishly. “Yeah.” You grabbed his hand. “You are adorable.”

“Shut up and watch Sam,” he grumbled with a blush, but the smile on his face told you that he appreciated the affectionate words. You nodded, not pressing the subject.

Cheers erupted as Sam moved the truck to safety.

Of course, Karli had to throw a section of rebar at you. Bucky caught it, and you both glared at her.

“C’mon,” you sighed, shrugging. “You ruined the moment. There was a moment happening and you just-” You flung a hand at her, sighing disappointedly. When she tried to advance again, Sam threw the shield, knocking her back. She yanked off her mask, eyeing Sam as if he’d stabbed her.

“You of all people bought into that bullshit?” she asked.

He didn’t budge. “I’m trying something different. Maybe you should do the same.”

A distant explosion distracted you before smoke bombs exploded at your feet with a hiss. Grey haze coated the area, but Sam began to lead you, Bucky, and Walker through a nearby maze of halls.

“Hey, Sharon. We’re underground,” Bucky mumbled into comms, trying to keep the separated member of your party up to date. “We entered the tunnel on William. Heading south.”

“Looks like they split up. Here.” Walker ran in one direction before Sam even finished, and you and Bucky followed.

“We got it,” you said to Sam, trailing the rogue Captain. You ran ahead of them, letting the two boys search rooms as you found a way out. When you had made your way through most of the building with no sign of the remaining Flag Smashers, you snapped, turning around.

“Buck. You still have that lady’s phone, right?” He nodded. “It has the Flag Smasher app. Put up a false signal.” You exited the building and waited patiently,

“Are you sure this is gonna work?” Walker asked. You tsked, pausing for a brief moment. “Just wait. In three… two… one.” You pointed just as three sets of footsteps began to echo down the hallway. Walker stepped out in front of them.

“‘Mercy bears richer fruit than strict justice,’” he quoted smugly. Bucky held up the phone. “It’s a great app.” The police surrounded the rebels, and you finally began to relax knowing that the hardest part of your job was finished.

“Lincon? Really?” Bucky asked Walker as soon as you all were out of earshot.

“Great man. Great quote.”

You made a disbelieving sound. “Not when you say it.”

———————————————————————

You sat in the open doors of an ambulance, Bucky next to you as you leaned against him. There was still a lot of panic, with people shuffling about and trying to recover from the events of the past hour, but your little hiding spot was relatively peaceful.

After snatching an ice pack from a paramedic, you and the super-soldier had taken turns passing it back and forth, with him usually letting you have it for longer. You had also taken the opportunity to clean up a cut on his temple, and now only a small bruise and smear of dried blood remained.

“Just as my side was almost healed up,” you complained, pressing the ice pack against the muscle that seemed to have been sore for the past few weeks.

He rubbed your shoulder. “We’ll get an actual break here soon, doll. Get you back up and running.”

Just as you were going to respond, Sam flew down, cradling a dead Karli Morgenthau in his arms. You jumped up from the ambulance, leaning against it for support.

He laid her body on a stretcher, and Walker came to join you and Bucky by the ambulance. Reporters surrounded Sam instantly.

“What happened to the Flag Smashers?”

“When did the government make you Captain America?”

“Is it still Falcon?”

“Or is it Captain Falcon?”

He stepped past all of them stopping briefly to speak to a woman. Many of the government officials thanked him, mentioning various details about the Flag Smashers and discussing the GRC vote. Then, Sam’s voice carried over the crowd.

“Stop calling them terrorists,” he requested.

“What else would we call them?” a man asked.

Sam’s face radiated “y’all are fucking stupid” without him saying a word. “Your peacekeeping troops carrying weapons are forcing millions of people into settlements around the world, right? What do you think those people are gonna call you? These labels, ‘terrorist’, ‘refugee’, ‘thug’, they’re often used to get around the question, why?”

“Those settlements that happened five years ago, do you think it is fair for governments to have to support them?” one woman asked.

“Yes.” His answer came with no hesitation.

“And the people who reappeared only to find someone else living in their family home, they just end up homeless? Look, I get it. But you have no idea how complicated this situation is.” Your eyes widened at his abrasive words.

“The fuck does this bitch think he is?” you mumbled to Bucky, who shrugged.

“You know what? You’re right. And that’s a good thing. We finally have a common struggle now. Think about that. For once, all the people who’ve been begging, and I mean, literally begging for you to feel how hard any given day is… Now you know.”

“How did it feel to be helpless? Now if you could remember what it was like to be helpless and face a force so powerful it could erase half the planet, you would know that you’re about to have the exact same impact. This isn’t about easy decisions, Senator.”

“You don’t understand,” the old man insisted.

Sam scoffed. “I’m a Black man carrying the stars and stripes. What don’t I understand? Every time I pick this thing up, I know there are millions of people who are gonna hate me for it. Even now, here, I feel it. The stares, the judgment. And there’s nothing I can do to change it.”

“Yet, I’m still here. No super serum, no blond hair, or blue eyes. The only power I have is that I believe we can do better. We can’t demand that people step up if we don’t meet them halfway. Look, you control the banks. Shit, you can move borders! You can knock down a forest with an email, you can feed a million people with a phone call.”

“But the question is, who’s in the room when you make those decisions? Is it the people you’re gonna impact? Or is it just more people like you? I mean, this girl died trying to stop you, and no one has stopped for a second to ask why. You’ve gotta do better, Senator. You’ve gotta step up. Because if you don’t, the next Karli will. And you don’t wanna see 2.0.”

“People believed in her cause so much that they helped her defy the strongest governments in the world. Why do you think that is? Look, you people have just as much power as an insane god or a misguided teenager. The question you have to ask yourself is, ‘How are you going to use it?’”

And with that, he stepped away, Despite the soreness all over your body, you waved excitedly over to him. “You did so good!” you congratulated. He gave a polite nod to Walker before moving over to Bucky.

“Sorry, I was, uh, I was texting and so, all I heard was, um, ‘a Black guy in the stars and stripes.’” You swatted at his arm, causing him to chuckle lightly. “Nice job, Cap.”

Sam thanked him. As you three made your way away from the paparazzi, you saw a familiar figure dressing her wounds.

“Sharon,” you greeted. She looked up briefly before shielding her face from the slew of cameras nearby.

“You’re blocking my light,” she commented.

“We gotta get you to a hospital,” Sam said, eyeing the gunshot wound that was still oozing blood. Bucky made a snarky comment about her not listening as she and Sam spoke.

“Uh, Cap?” A paramedic approached and Sharon ducked, hiding her identity.

“I think he’s talking to you,” she joked. “Look, I’m sorry for how things ended down there. For what it’s worth, suit looks good on you.” And just like that, she was gone.

Bucky took your hand in his. “Ready to go home?” You nodded, lightly squeezing his hand in your own. You bid farewell to Sam, beginning the short walk home.

“I didn’t forget my promise,” the new Captain called out. Bucky only gave him a nod.

You walked a few blocks before speaking. “It’s alarming that I came out of this mess being mildly okay with both Zemo and Walker,” you said, contemplating what that meant for you morally.

“There’s been weirder things to happen.”

“What, like us being idiots and Sam, Nat, and Steve actually being helpful?”

Bucky bent down to press a kiss to your lips. “Exactly.”

———————————————————————

“Is this outfit too much?”

Nat, Yelena, and Steve and sat on your bed, surrounded by other outfits you’d tossed around.

“Hon, you need to stop worrying about your outfit. You’re gonna be on a plane, and then on a dock in Louisiana. It’s not the goddamn Met Gala,” Nat groaned, flopping back into your bed. They’d all stopped by the tower for a visit (read: to harass you and Bucky) and were planning on decorating a room for the younger Black Widow.

Steve had ranted for an hour straight about John Walker and the government, pacing until you physically stopped him. He called Sam to congratulate him, saying he cheered through the whole speech.

“Fuck, that reminds me. We need to figure out who’s attending that gala next year.”

Yelena perked up. “I can go to the Met Gala?” You nodded, turning in the mirror and scrunching your nose at the silky blouse. “Yeah, at least a few of us go every year.” She immediately got on her phone, searching for matching outfits for her and her dog, Fanny, who was laying next to her. You didn’t have the heart to tell her pets weren’t allowed at the gala, but honestly, she’d probably get away with it.

With a huff, you tugged off the top and threw it on a chair. “It’s too much. I’m gonna wear a tank top.”

Steve threw a top at you. “It’s fall.”

“I don’t give a shit. It’s Louisiana.”

Once you changed and were slightly more content with your clothing choice, you put on jewelry and shouldered your bag. A knock sounded from your door.

“Hey,” you called. Bucky peeked in, eyes widening when he saw the three superheroes sprawled around your room. “What’s happening?” he asked.

“(Y/N) needed help. We are help,” Yelena explained breezily. “Ooh, Natasha, look at this dog bowtie.” Nat leaned over, humming in approval at whatever picture she was showing her.

“Doll? You ready?” You nodded, taking Bucky’s hand as your three friends made kissing noises behind you. You rolled your eyes, playfully flipping them off before leaving Avengers Tower, making your way to the airport thanks to your maybe-too-fast driving.

Tony’s jet was always comfortable, with drinks stored away in a fridge and the seats somehow always comfortable. You piloted the plane for a short while before allowing FRIDAY to take over, engaging autopilot and turning on the TV.

“I’m glad he invited us down,” you said, settling onto the arm of the chair where Bucky sat. He nodded, resting his head against your side.

“I’m glad you’re coming with me. I’m glad you’re here.” You ran a head through his hair, relaxing as the rising sun shone through the plane window.

“Me too.”

———————————————————————

“I honestly don’t think he’ll notice.”

“You dropped the cake, Jamie. It’s kinda hard to miss.”

Bucky held the very demolished cake in his hands, mild panic taking over. “Um… it’s fine. It’ll be fine. We just don’t say anything about it.” You nodded.

“Say anything about what?” you asked jokingly, winking at him as you both got out of another rental car. Sam’s friends and family had decided to throw a cookout on the pier, and the sweet smells of southern cooking filled the air as you passed a few grills.

AJ and Cass came sprinting at Bucky, who proceeded to air fight them as you took the battered cake, slipping it onto a nearby picnic table and hoping no one noticed its state. You glanced to both sides before scooting away.

“Buck! (Y/N)!” Sam ran over to hug you both, introducing you to his friends. All the while, the brunet super-soldier stayed close by you, either holding your hand or resting a hand on your back. You stayed equally close, as if separating was some impossible feat.

However, you were forced to split off when Sam tugged Bucky away to entertain some of the kids. As you made your way around the party, you grabbed a lemonade, sipping the perfectly mixed beverage as you watched two kids hang off of his metal arm, with him not even breaking a sweat as he spoke to Sarah and some of her friends.

“I would’ve moved in with Sam after the whole Thanos deal, but he’s just so bad at sharing,” you heard him say. Sarah nodded, beginning a story about the Captain and how he couldn’t share cereal boxes.

You walked up, smiling as one of the kids waved to you. “He’s still like that. Has to have his Cookie Crunch all to himself.”

“Don’t hate on the Cookie Crunch, (L/N),” Sam warned, approaching with a beer in his hand. “That trashed cake yours?” he asked, gesturing vaguely to the dessert table.

“What trashed cake?” you asked innocently, shrugging. Bucky exchanged a glance with you, and you both burst into a fit of laughter.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I knew it. You two are ridiculous; where’d this come from? The gas station?”

“Um,” you stammered, eventually pointing at him with a snap of your fingers. “Yeah, actually. Spot-on.”

“It’s probably infected with, like, twelve different diseases,” he grumbled.

Bucky scoffed as the other kid jumped down from his arm. “Cake is cake.”

“My thoughts exactly.” You smiled. He bent down, pressing a kiss to your lips. Sam complained, disgusted, but you shut out his protests. A man shouting that the food was ready interrupted his groans.

After dinner was served and everyone had eaten, Bucky pulled you to the side, fiddling nervously with his vibranium hand. It whirred, something you’d come to learn to mean that he was either frustrated, worried, or anxious. The vibranium prosthetic seemed to be honed in on his emotions.

“What’s up?” you asked, taking his hands in yours.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” he reassured, running his thumbs over your hands. “I just… I wanted to ask you properly. I know dating’s changed a lot since the ‘40s, but I know the basics.”

“And I was wondering if you’d be my girlfriend? Like, officially?”

You smiled, nodding instantly and jumping up to hug him. “Yes, yes of course. I’d really like that,” you whispered into the crook of his neck. He gently pulled away, breaths still shaking.

“Is it too much to say… you know?”

A grin passed over your face briefly before you feigned confusion. “Hmm, I don’t know. You’ll have to tell me what it is.”

Bucky laughed under his breath, gently pressing a palm to the side of your face. He leaned in, your foreheads grazing as you made eye contact.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

77 notes · View notes

scribblesforthemad · 2 years

Text

There and Back Again - Part 19

Many, many thanks to @skyfall8600 whose excellent Sucked In series not only inspired this one, but brought me out of a years-long writing slump! The first few parts of this series are heavily inspired by her work, while diverging more significantly later on. Regardless, I wholeheartedly recommend her work, and thank her for allowing me to use a few of her excellent ideas!

series warnings: swearing, misogyny, canon-typical violence, fluff, insecurity; sfw but gets a little ~steamy~ in a couple places

part nineteen warnings: swearing, discussion of canon-typical violence, angst, fluff

a/n: thank you for sticking with me through 19 parts so far! I promise there's still plenty left to come. I'd really appreciate it if you could give me some comments on what you think! Love u guys <3

taglist: @superflannel @kaitebugg03

“I’m telling you, I ran for the portal and managed to jump through, just like Max. I don’t understand why you’re all still hounding me about it!”

You paced the floor of the Mayfields’ trailer, too agitated to sit. Six skeptical faces stared back at you from around the living room; only Eddie’s soft brown eyes were filled with concern rather than cynicism.

“We’re not trying to hound you about it,” Nancy said diplomatically, though her tone conveyed a bit more exasperation than she’d intended. “We’re just…making sure that we understand everything that happened.” You scoffed, having no patience for half-truths and deflections after your ordeal. They knew you were keeping something back, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You raked your fingers through your hair, trying to find a way to placate them without telling them the full extent of what you’d seen—Eddie’s lifeless body on the hillside, torn apart by shrieking bats and eventually left behind. You sighed.

“He…he showed me things,” you said, avoiding Nancy’s intense gaze. “Horrible things, that haven’t happened yet.” You swallowed hard, preparing yourself for what you were about to say. “He said he wanted me to witness those things. That that’s why—that’s why he brought me here,” you finished, your voice dwindling to a near whisper.

A beat, and then everyone exploded around you.

“He brought you here?! How long have you known? I swear to God, if you’ve been lying to us—” Max’s angry words were quickly overrun by Steve’s disbelieving questions.

“He showed you the future?” he asked, mouth agape. “Like, psychic prophecy shit?”

“We are so completely and spectacularly screwed,” Robin said, her eyes wide with fear as she wrung her hands nervously. The panicked voices of your friends rose, crowding out every other sound and even thought. Your breathing grew more rapid, and though you brought your hands up to your ears to try and block the sound, before long you were hyperventilating. The exhaustion and fear of fighting your way through the Upside Down, the vision of Eddie’s death, and now the chaos of everyone’s reactions—it was all far, far too much.

Quickly and quietly, Eddie rose from his seat on the couch and walked to you. He took your hands in his, gently moving them away from your ears before wrapping his arms around you. After whispering a few inaudible comforts, he turned his gaze to the others as you sobbed into his chest.

“Quiet!” he barked, and his commanding tone, so different from the laid-back sarcasm that usually coated his words, was fierce enough that the others immediately fell silent. “Give her a goddamn minute. Vecna just torturedher, for fuck’s sake.” You hid in the tear-stained cotton of his Hellfire tee, the comforting scent of him slowly bringing you back to reality. “I’m here, Y/N,” he whispered into your hair. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise.” He held you as you shook and cried, stroking your back with gentle, soothing motions.

Gradually, with Eddie’s gentle comfort and steady strength, you recovered yourself. You brought your face out from his chest, wiping your eyes on your sleeve but still clinging to his arm. You took a deep, if shaky breath, and sat on the couch with Eddie, staring at the carpet for a moment before finally facing the others.

Nancy was the first to speak, and her voice was softer than it had been before.

“Y/N, if you’re up to it, what did Vecna say exactly?” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she looked at you with mingled affection and concern. “Maybe the wording can help us understand.”

You chewed your lip, thinking of how best to respond. You owed them the truth, and you knew it. But telling the truth also meant telling them about the one thing you’d sworn to yourself you’d never reveal: Eddie’s death. If you told them, like you’d told them about Chrissy’s and Fred’s and Patrick’s deaths, it would be like sealing his fate. You would doom the man you loved to the slow, tortuous death Vecna had shown you.

You picked nervously at the hem of your shirt, feeling all eyes on you. Finally, you spoke, and though a touch unsteady, your voice was brittle with determination.

“After he showed me those things—” you glanced back at Eddie, your muscles tightening as you remembered his broken, bloody body, “and I won’t discuss them, so don’t ask—he told me that that’s why he brought me here, to witness them.” You swallowed. “He said he’d noticed some kind of…psychic bond I had to this world, and he wanted to bring me here to indulge it. To show me ‘the futility of opposing him’ or something.” You looked around at the group, your eyes pleading for one of them to provide some sense or meaning to the words. “But what does that even mean?!”

Dustin stood and began to pace, his fingers steepled in front of his face as he frowned, clearly deep in thought. Abruptly, he stopped walking and turned to face you.

“El opened the first gate by reaching out to the Demogorgon with her mind,” he said slowly, and you blinked at the sudden change of subject. You nodded, waiting for him to continue. “And a new gate opens whenever Vecna kills someone.” You nodded again, unsure where this was going. Dustin resumed pacing, and seven pairs of eyes followed his every move. “And because of what happened to Max,” he said, and the redhead scowled at the mention of her name, “we know that Vecna’s attacks focus on bad things that have happened to someone. Feelings they didn’t admit to anyone else.” He paused significantly, looking at you once again. “In short, these are psychic attacks. He isn’t physically here, but he uses his powers to look into people’s minds and make his kills.” Your eyes widened as you suddenly saw where he was going, and your heart began to beat faster. “Your love for what you knew as a TV show must have been so powerful that it projected outward toward our world. Vecna must’ve sensed it and used his powers to bring you here.”

Stunned faces looked from you to Dustin. Though none of you truly understood it, his theory had the ring of truth.

“But why?” you whispered, though you were beginning to fear that you knew the answer already. “Why bring me here when he knew I’d just try and stop him?” Dustin’s mouth fell into a hard line as he looed at you grimly.

“Because the benefits outweighed the risks. He didn’t think you’d be able to stop him, and…” he trailed off, not meeting your eyes.

“And what, Dustin?” you asked, your voice flat. Finally, he looked up at you.

“And because your bond to us, to this world, is so powerful that if you witnessed something in person—something horrible from the show that really messed you up—it might provide a powerful enough psychic surge for Vecna to open another gate.” He shrugged helplessly. “You’re a backup plan, Y/N.”

You took in Dustin’s words, waiting for them to hit you like a punch to the gut. Surprisingly, however, they didn’t; instead, you felt a wave of calm wash over you, grounding you more firmly than you had been in weeks. It wasn’t that you liked the idea of being puppeted around by Vecna, of helping his plans come to fruition. Rather, it was the resolution of a question that had been plaguing you since you woke up in the Hawkins woods: why am I here? Now that you knew, even though the answer was terrible, everything seemed easier to face. You knew the score, and now you could play the game.

And you were going to make goddamn sure you didn’t lose.

* * *

You had just flopped down onto the lumpy old mattress, bones groaning nearly as much as the bedsprings, when he finally broached the subject.

“So, are we gonna talk about it, or what?” Eddie asked bluntly as he sat next to you on the bed in Hopper’s cabin. It wasn’t an ideal hiding place, but Jason and the others shouldn’t find it without Lucas to show them the way. You hoped.

You groaned and rolled over, hiding your face in a pillow so Eddie couldn’t see the naked panic on your face. If I talk about it, I’ll start crying, and he’ll know, you thought with utter certainty. You couldn’t let that happen, so you decided to play dumb instead.

“Talk about what?” you asked nonchalantly, forcing your features into a calmer expression as you sat up. Eddie raised an eyebrow at you, not buying the act.

“About your vision, Siren,” he said, his voice full of gentle reproach. “You scared the living hell out of me. I thought I lost you,” he finished, his dark eyes wide with concern. You cursed inwardly. He was just too damn stubborn.

“But you didn’t,” you said, taking his hand in yours. “You saved me. I thought I was a goner until I heard you singing.” You lifted your free hand to his face, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. You knew you’d never get tired of looking at him, of touching him. Your Eddie. But instead of leaning into your touch, he removed your hand from his face and clasped it in his own hand, his mouth curving into a frown.

“You shouldn’t carry all of that yourself, Y/N,” he said with such earnestness that it made your heart flutter. “Vecna uses pent-up feelings, right? Trauma you don’t talk to anyone about?” You bit your lip and nodded, against your better judgment. “Then tell me,” he begged, squeezing your hands in his. “Let me help you.” You pulled your hands from his grasp, turning your face away as tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“I can’t,” you whispered, fighting hard to keep your voice steady. “I just—can’t. Especially not with you!” Eddie’s shocked face quickly filled with hurt and anger, and you wished instantly that you could take back the words. You didn’t, however—better him hate you than you tell him he was going to die, painfully and without purpose.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asked harshly, his voice rising. “Especially not with—” He stopped abruptly, and it was as if you could see the wheels turning in his mind. “Me,” he finished, his tone quite different now as he remembered a series of small, odd moments stretching back to the day he’d first met you.

“You remind me of someone I lost. It brought up a lot of old feelings, that’s all.”

“That’s why I’ve been avoiding you the past few weeks—I wanted to keep you out of all this. Keep you safe.”

“Your bond to us, to this world, is so powerful that if you witnessed something in person—something horrible from the show that really messed you up—it might provide a powerful enough psychic surge for Vecna to open another gate.”

Tears fell freely down your face as you looked at Eddie, feeling more vulnerable than you ever had before. Silently, he opened his arms and you fell into them, holding him tightly as if you never wanted to let go.

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson/you #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #lucy's there and back again

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thesunandmoons-blog · 2 years

Note

oo okay i absolutely love your writing you’re very talented! no pressure at all but can i request from that angst prompt list maybe ‘why won’t you let me in’ with davey n angel? or honestly anything with them :) sending lots of love <3

omg omg omg tysm!!! i'm rlly glad that you like my writing ;-;

i will absolutely write you some angst!!! >:)

ik this sucks im sorry i tried :( ily ty for the req

cw/tw : implied hurt/comfort, lil bit of fluff n angst n stuff, work problems

Word count : 1,168

Fandom : redacted asmr

Pair : Davey/Angel

if u wanna read on ao3!!

Angel was definitely the kind of person who would crack a joke to cover something up. Whether that something was an issue they were dealing with, or it was a little oopsie-daisy that they wanted to hide.

But, David “Davey” Shaw, Mr.Big Man Alpha of the pack, could see through all of their bs. Did he call it out all of the time? No, but he definitely noticed. Maybe some of the other friends Angel had made through the big guy weren’t as perceptive as David, but it wasn’t hard for him to pick up on jokes being made for the sake of faking a smile, or making sure only good attention was on them.

Angel wasn’t a huge fan of having negative attention on themself. If it was a joke, or something stupid they and Asher pulled, then sure! By all means, they wanted to laugh it up. However, somebody asking if they were okay, whether that was physically, mentally, or emotionally? That made them feel... icky. They didn’t want that kind of attention on themself, so jokes would have to do.

Again.

David Shaw is more perceptive than most.

David knew it was going to be a long day for Angel at work. He knew they had been working on some big project for the company they were working for, but he couldn’t be too sure of any details regarding it. All he knew was there wasn’t really anything he could do but make sure Angel took care of themself when they had the time.

He had tried sending them text reminders throughout their long work day, trying to remind them to make time to eat the lunch he packed for them, drink some water, and take a break when possible. All messages went read, but without response.

It had already been almost 7pm by the time Angel walked through the door of their shared home. They were under the impression that David would be out on a quick job that night, so they promptly shut the door and groaned loudly while kicking off their shoes. Much to their surprise, David’s head peeked around the corner from the kitchen, eyebrow raised. “Welcome home, Angel. Is everything alright?” They stopped for a moment, looking to David as they dropped their work bag to the floor. A large grin overtook their face now, nodding their head rapidly. “Yep!” The ‘p’ was popped, the toothy grin quickly reappearing. “It smells good, Davey! Whatcha makin’ tonight?” Their bottom lip was now hooked between their teeth, and David could practically see the drool pooling at the floor beneath them.

His eyes rolled, one hand now propped on his hip. “Tonight’s dinner is a surprise, Angel. I know you had your big presentation today. How did that go?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know, big man?” They chuckled nervously, swallowing the small lump that had formed in their throat. “I’m gonna go change into something comfy!” Angel was quick to turn their heel to lead them down the hallway, shoulders dropping as they could finally relax into the shared bedroom to change.

It didn’t take much for David to know that their presentation probably didn’t go well, but he wasn’t going to make too many assumptions. Maybe it went well, but there were a few hiccups? Who could know? He didn’t have a damn clue what it was about in the first place.

It was only a few minutes later that Angel sauntered back down the hallway wearing some very cozy pj pants and a loose t-shirt, work clothes having been discarded in the laundry hamper. They practically threw themself down onto the couch, stretched out as a lazy hand reached out to grab their phone that was on the coffee table.

“Angel, you never really answered my question. How did that presentation go today? You’ve been working yourself half to death, so I can only imagine it went well.”

Silence.

Yeah, uh, it didn’t go so well.

“Angel?”

“Yeah, Davey! It-uh, it went fine. Don’t worry about it!”

Diversion is all they knew. They didn’t know how to focus on the topic, or how to tell David that their presentation was awful. Well, not that it was awful itself, but everything they had worked towards with it was completely shut down.

Again, David rolled his eyes, placing whatever amazing smelling dish he’d been working on in the oven to finish. He walked into the living room, seeing Angel distracting themself on their phone. “Angel, what happened? Did something go wrong? Did you get nervous? You know you can just imagine everyone in their underwear. That’s what my dad always said, when it came to speaking in the pack meetings. ” They looked over at him, letting their phone plop screen down onto their chest.

“Well, technically everything went great! I gave my presentation, and that was it!” That really was it. I mean, the reaction and praise to their thorough project was incredibly limited, so they really weren’t lying. “Y’know, it would have gone waaay better if I could see you in nothing but your underwea-”

“Angel.”

He was onto them. They knew it too, which only made them more nervous.

Jokes? Try more jokes.

“Whaaaat? I’m just sayin’! I mean,” They took to their feet, sauntering over to David, their fingers now walking up his broad shoulders to rest beside his neck, “I would do anything to see you in just your underwear. Or less than that.” They could only laugh at the low growl that left David’s lips. Not some sexy growl, but more of a warning.

With a huff, David placed his hands on Angel’s waist, gently rubbing up and down their clothed sides. “Angel, can I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

David blinked, like, hard. It was a slow, hard blink because his patience was starting to run slightly thin.

“Sorry, sorry! What’s up, Davey?”

He sighed now, voice much gentler than before.

“Why won’t you let me in? I mean, you haven’t done the most spectacular job trying to hide the fact that you’re pretty upset over something today. You got home, half slammed the door and groaned. You keep avoiding my questions about your project and making up shit answers, which half of, by the way, are filled with comments about me in my damn underwear.”

David leaned forward, his head teetering to rest on Angel’s shoulder. “Listen, you don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to, but you need to know that I’m here for you. If today was a bad day, then that’s fine. Just let me in. You don’t have to try and cover up your problems with jokes, especially not around me. Just let me help, Angel.”

His words were dripping with sincerity, and it almost made Angel tear up.

“Okay, Davey, I’m sorry. I... Let’s eat first and maybe we can talk about it later. For now, I just want to be home with you.”

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partyinthemysterymachine · 2 years

Note

you've probably been asked this before, but what advice would you give to someone who's thinking of getting into writing? love ur stuff btw

[three months later]

hello!! THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH!!!!!! i super appreciate that!! it fills me with mountainous joy and it's SUCH a high honor!!!! i actually haven’t been asked that before (iirc, that is….. and my memory is a pot of fried and boiled milk steak). that means a lot that you’d ask me for advice 😭😭🥚🙏❤️❤️❤️ thank you so much for that compliment, that really means the world to me.

this is what gets me through, what i’ve learned and what works for me; and i hope it’ll do the same for you.

when it comes to approaching writing (and drawing), i have some rules, and they are as follows:

do whatever the fuck you want.

do it FOR YOU.

do whatever the fuck you want - this time, with feeling!

be kind to yourself.

be messy. write messily. be unpoetic and frivolous, use the same word 6 times in a sentence. who curr. when inspiration hits, grab it by the tit and honk. you can edit later.

and finally: do whatever the FUCK you want, FOR YOU, and BE KIND TO YOURSELF. (and then do it once more, with EXTRA feeling!)

and of course one of the hardest things to do:

don’t give a SINGLE SHIT - not even ONE. FUCK. EVER.

(and do it with a smile!)

NOW LET'S GET INTO IT:

DEADLINES & WORD COUNT & WRITING EVERY DAY, OH MY!

in the beginning of GOOMT, i used to set a deadline for myself; get a chapter out every 7 - 10 days (my best friend and editor’s schedule permitting lmao hiiii Ren <3 she’s gonna murder me one day bless her).

setting a deadline isn’t viable for me anymore. GOOMT will get out when it does; especially right now, while i’m in an important arc that’s setting up some plot points and future.

i also tend to write on average 3000 - 4500 words per chapter, with a page average of about 8 - 12. (current library arc not included. Yikes. sorry everyone!!) it’s not an intentional thing either; it’s whatever the chapter comes out to be. dialogue fluffs up the page count a lot too (and dialogue is my strength lmao, but sometimes, god shut UP, Harry!!!!! i’m so with James on that one lmaooo) (jk i love u baby, u make my world go ‘round in a blender) i feel that setting a goal or bracket for x amount of words or page count per chapter is stifling for me, so i don’t do it.

same, again, with deadlines. this arc is gonna take a hot minute and i’ve written a lot for it already and so i can’t force myself to adhere to anything. if that works for you, peachy; it’s all about trial and error, and, u guessed it - BEING KIND TO YOURSELF.

beating yourself up for not getting something done just does harm in the end and lord have mercy it happens anyway - but that there is a muscle to build.

you won’t always be perfect, so make the most of what you do at the moment, then come back to it later.

a popular piece of advice for writers is to write x amount of words a day, or to write ANYTHING every. single. day..... and that might be great for some, but for me, it doesn’t work so well. i don’t like to force myself to write. or edit. sometimes, i do - when i’m frustrated with a chapter or a part, i’ll pluck at it or reread it when i’m >:(((( the entire time or am impatient, or just straight up am NOT in the mood or headspace. sometimes i can power through and get inspiration!! other times, i just get more upset and frustrated. mixed bag. overall, tho, i try not to press my luck.

figure out what works for you. what works for me in what i write, or when i write..... is vibes.

wish i was joking, but. can't make some shit up, mates.

that said.... trial and error. i don't believe in the write every day advice. i don't believe in setting a writing schedule because my brain doesn't operate like that. might work for you or someone else though and oh my god i wish that were me, LOL. i salute your shorts.

===

TAKE A BREAK ONCE IN A WHILE WOULDJA/[SALLY NMBC VOICE] BUT I DON'T WANNA BEEEE PATIENT

no seriously.

take your breaks. try not to feel guilty; cope with feeling guilty and learn how to get over those hurdles; and press on when you can.

your health and wellbeing comes first and foremost. the story will not thrive when you aren't. take your breaks; take six months to get out the next chapter. your readers will still be there when you do, and new readers will be excited to read something that just cropped up on their feeds.

this isn't a race. this isn't your job. this is fun. be patient with yourself. you'll get there when you get there.

be patient, mfer. or else 🔪

===

WRITE SIMPLY AKA OH MY GOD DON’T BE LIKE ME AND ABUSE ONLINE THESAURUSES OR KEEP 50+ GOOGLE DOCUMENTS OF WORDS I’D LIKE TO USE OH GOD BRO DON’T DO IT

WRITE SIMPLY.

this might be big talk and side-eyeing coming from me lmao and you know what?: fair.

but i mean it. purple prose can be too much of a good (or bad) thing, and never you mind my 5 google documents of words and definitions i’ve saved for future use that average about 45 pages do NOT do as i do—

however wordhippo is my favorite thesaurus site and use it - but use it well, and use it WISELY. lord knows i’ve got a few chapters where i went HAYWIRE on the thesaurus and synonyms— and god, i’ll come back to it much later when i re-edit everything!!!! but don’t be like me. be intentional; be precise. it’s a hard act to juggle and don’t get down on yourself. it takes time, and it takes a lot of work and practice. it’s a constant struggle.

that’s the beauty of art.

just word barf onto the page. fuckin'. stream-of-conscioussness that shit. you can fix it later.

===

WRITING OUT OF ORDER

one of the things i like to do when i write is write out future scenes. i’ll get a bout of inspiration and just go for it, no edits - even if it’s just inane blather. get the idea out!! consider it a skeleton for beefing later. (yummy.)

GOOMT has a folder called SCENES NOTES wherein there are, you guessed it, notes for future scenes - and i’ve written a metric fuckload of these.

they're separated into categories, such as "general" and "romantic". i know i'll want to use in the future somewhere. many of them date as far back as 2019 and 2020 and haven't yet seen the light of day, while others have already been published. some are still waiting for their time.

99% of these scenes are going to need heavy editing and tweaking because they are all written without knowing where the hell they're actually going to go, or if they'll ever get used. the "prom stories" scene in ch48 was one of these random ass scenes notes that i KNEW i wanted included somewhere, but where? how?

i had no idea. i just knew i did NOT want to shoe-horn it in (and there's more about that later in this post). there's another coming after the library arc (ho ho ho!!) that has been sitting waiting for its time probably since 2020 or maybe early 2021. i do hoard a lot of random scenes and writing though i do understand i MIGHT never use it; but if anything..

consider it as character development.

===

HEHE WHAT A FUNNY LIL GUY WITH A FUNNY LIL PERSONALITY

character development.................

rubs face. what can i even say about this LOL. pull shit out of your ass.

again: no, really.

believe it or not i used to create a LOT of OCs and while i still have a pet project and OCs lurking in the background, there is one thing i learned to do in regards to creating/developing them, and this one neat trick that i'm still very good at it to this day:

pulling shit out of my ass.

whenever i get a character question (what do you think x feels about y) or response to a hc meme or w/e, there is a very, very high chance (about 80-90%, depending) that i haven't thought about this (or the character in terms of personal ideas) before. most of the time it's actual just stream of consciousness.

tbh. i recommend that as a writing exercise. taking a character question meme and answering it yourself. go into details if you can. it doesn't matter how "cringe" or whatever it is. write. cook that lil mfer in your head. spin 'em around like a salad spinner. just. write.

i can't get enough of detail. i fucking love and THRIVE on the mundane. slice of life is my entire soul. i have found that in writing, the most mundane and "boring" pieces of a character's slice of life becomes so crucial to what they become in my writing. i'm constantly picking up and deciding new tidbits/factoids. those really help set foundation and building blocks for the character (and story)'s future.

however, as with the advice above with writing out of order: it's incredible what happens in character development when just dotting down those notes.

and don't be afraid to let the characters do it themselves, too. the sentiment is super real about you as the writer having zero will sometimes over what a character does lmfao. that's just how it be.

also remember: people are extremely diverse and surprising. i dont' think it's fair to you or your writing or the characters to hold back purely because you fear something you may have discovered about them (or backlash for writing it).

for example: James "no fat chicks" Sunderland, re: ch61.

i've joked about it before; but since it's actually published GOOMT canon that James is an Actual Asshole about fat people (Harry), i was actually pretty damn worried that i could get some flack for it, LOL, despite knowing this piece about him for quite some time. it, while rather :\, is important to James's characterization and development throughout GOOMT.

not even Harry is safe from the ":\ seriously bro?" disappointment moments. and it's going to be nail biting for me to write and publish them because i of course don't want to face flack for it; but i would consider it a disservice to me and my writing and my storytelling if i didn't. people are disappointing; people are surprising. they're flawed and weird and fantastical. they progress and regress.

so let your characters do that, too.

===

PLANNING & OUTLINING & ORGANIZING LORE

this is a tough one for me. with GOOMT, its lore is in constant development and it’s massive. here’s what my organization looks like for GOOMT (with redacted folders bc Spoilers - and i’m a VERY superstitious writer lmao):

PLOT folder i have:

and within character ref:

may look like i have my shit together, but looks are deceiving LOL. it is a bit of a mess but hey at least i’ve got the heart, right?

i recommend setting up something like this if you’re gonna be doing something even small and medium sized, and do THIS ONE NEAT TRICK (that i didn’t do in the beginning because i had no idea what i was doing, nor thinking GOOMT would get this far):

SAVE. YOUR DETAILS. AS. YOU. GO. ALONG.

!!!!

really mate. superstition, unfortunately, doesn’t allow me to show you GOOMT’s versions exactly, but here are some examples, with [REDACTED]s in effect LOL

PLOT:

CHARACTER REF:

MONSTERS:

it’s imperative!!! that you keep your shit together as best as possible.. and perhaps even MOREso that you actually LOOK at it more than twice a year ansishdhdjfhfjsbf good god i can forget it’s there so often and then i’m like. well WHO BETRAYED ME. WHO DID THAT. WHO FORGOT TO TELL AND/OR REMIND ME OF THAT. looking at everything else but the mirror i’m standing in front of, lmao

but remember: do only what you need to, and what works for you..... and remember too that all this is because GOOMT is ENORMOUS, and it's always, ALWAYS growing. so my apologies if this is kinda overwhelming, but... gestures.

GOOMT.

===

EDITING & EDIT HELL

a lot of what i write never makes it to see the light of day. i cannot stress how much i’ve written and cut. sometimes.. you're going to have to cut that thing you really really like about the chapter/piece. sorry. it's going to be a bummer to cut it but you're gonna have to cut it.

for example: ch60 had more than seven iterations or more in total.

no, seriously. and one of the things that sucks about it is that i cut a lot that i was very proud of, thought was important, but ultimately was not the right place or time: and very frankly, it may never have a place or time in the story. i still have them, though.

while they can definitely be discouraging, but in my mind, what they really are/were, were character development exercises. i’m not interested in shoe-horning them in either, even if they were genius, tho retooling is always a possibility. but in those moments, considering what you’ve written as character development exercises for YOU to understand them, and where you want to take the character and build their dynamic potential and future, is GREATLY beneficial in the long term for you as the writer, and those reading.

i tend to write all i can in one go and then go back and edit and tweak. then when i say i'm in "edit hell", i'm talking about taking an entire week for purely editing. what editing means to me may not mean to you, either; so i'm not really sure how to advise.

i do recommend grabbing a friend who makes the mistake of offering to edit a chapter for you 52 chapters ago and is still editing for you to this day and very likely for the many mountains of months to follow tho :) (hi ren <3)

===

PACING & AH SHIT I REGRET PUTTING THAT THERE

shit happens! and sometimes you want shit to happen like. NOW. well..

you sure about that?

i’ve mentioned before how many times i’ve rearranged parts of GOOMT, and even regretted already revealing things. take some good keen time and CONSIDER what you’re writing; WHERE you're writing it; WHY you're writing it; and how the story is supposed to be going.

i think it’s also important to remember that not everything needs to ever be revealed, or revealed at once. you can allude to a lot of things. GOOMT and POTF have a LOT of lore stacked up (and always more being developed) and there’s a whole lot of it that’s not MEANT to see the light of day (tho, of course, that may change, and i’m willing to let that happen as needed).

that said: ALWAYS make sure that revealing any big details or lore is necessary in what you’re writing. it’s very tempting to bring something into the chapter that you’ve been just itching to get out, but is it necessary? does it actually fit? and those questions aren't always easy to answer at the time, or simply can't be answered until 20/20 hindsight.

for example: revealing the Memory of Harry monster in GOOMT.

MoH originally was going to be debuted back in ch21, when they returned to the alley first seen in SH1. i had his whole scene written and ready to go but i cut him out just about before i handed the chapter to Ren for editing. instead, he made his appearance in Balkan in ch27.

looking back on it now, i wish i had waited until they were in Midwich.

i got a little too eager to introduce him. i didn't know where else to slap him down and at the same time too, the first Midwich arc wasn't yet much of a thought (and it began ch31). so at THAT time, i thought it was a good place to put him.

to be fair on myself: it was. it was a good place. but it would have made more sense and been more impactful, i realize in hindsight, to have dropped him into Midwich. still, it was a damn good reveal if i do say so myself, and pretty impactful too!!!

so there are always going to be regrets or even mistakes in pacing and placement. it’s a good learning experience and learning curve to take in and work on.

just.. whatever you do: DON’T. SHOEHORN. IN. if it's not time for it, it's not time. it's absolutely not worth it imo. take the piece that isn't working and set it to the side. you can use it later if the time/need arises.

pacing is super fucking hard to me and i gnaw at my hands about my arcs and how long they can take, and i have worry about things moving too slowly for readers. on the flip, i have a shitload to go through. and i'm going to make mistakes about reveals. and pacing is going to get wonky and GOOMT is going to get boring or drag on in parts and the reality is, is that that's just normal for it to happen.

i'm not sure what advice i have about pacing really. just be sure to sit down and give your story a great big think and re-read every now and then.

===

CONSISTENCY & WRITING STYLE & ACCEPTING ITS WEIRD JOURNEY

oh lord, have mercy; oh how the times do change, and ebb and flow through every fucking chapter, LOL

this is just natural. let it happen. of course your style is gonna change over time - especially if you’re writing long form. it could be disappointing; i know i look back at some chapters and go, shit, i LOVED the way i wrote here! how can i get that back?

and then you might also feel like your quality declined. i’m kind of in that phase right now; it sort of feels like my writing took a nosedive. for that, what i’m doing, and therefore i suggest it, is read back over old work you wrote and liked a lot. and even better?

read a book. read an old favorite or a new one. get some inspiration and mojo. take down notes of phrases you liked, or mark pages. just to have on hand. take a breather. remember: you're here to have fun.

===

JUST WRITE THE CRINGE, BRO

seriously: who. te fuck. cares. all the wrong people, that’s who! self-indulgence is the name of the game, babey. your world, your oyster. you don’t have to post it. just write it. remember:

if it makes you happy, then write - and draw - whatever the FUCK YOU WANT.

and if anyone tries to make you feel bad about it, just come back to me, or send the haters to my door. 🔪 i gotchu, bro.

:3c

===

CONSIDER A PET PROJECT

i’ve got a slew of personal work (-adjacent being one) that won’t see the light of day (ok so i’ve talked a little about it/posted one or two things, but that’ll be the extent). i love looking back at it or tinkering with new scenes bc it makes me happy and keep me sane LOL and i refuse to deny myself!!! MY HOUSE MY TRASH WE ROLL IN IT

however!! when GOOMT is being a right wanker about things, i’ve taken to writing pet projects - either working on my personal stuff, OR things i actually intend to publish.

they aren’t always one-offs either; i’ve got two other series i work on and publish (Heya, Neighbor! and Puttin’ On The Fritz) and a few things that won’t see the light of day (.. or some pornographies..) and LIGHTLY edit. BIG STRESS ON LIGHTLY. EDIT. i go through Edit Hell enough with GOOMT; i don’t need or WANT the stress of doing that with these things i’m doing for shiggles. they’re just my palate cleansers for when GOOMT is being an asshole and so is being put in the “time-out corner”.

the side projects are for my need to refresh myself and write freely. they’re a little cringey and maybe OOC for some, but it’s MY cringe and OOC and i LOVE IT because…… oh wait that’s right, it’s FOR ME and MY shits and giggles - but all y’all can read it too if it tickles your navel, LMAO. they get updated very, very slowly, and that’s fine. that might be a bit too much for some people to juggle and/or balance and that’s fine too.

===

REMEMBER ALWAYS: you are writing FOR YOU. yes - absolutely you CAN write for the intent to gain popularity (and here’s a good article by @javert on how to approach that), but that’s not my style or intent. i just want to write fun stories and fling them out into the world and maybe someone will get a kick out of it, too. that’s what keeps me going.

not giving a fuck about what you write or create is probably, definitely, at the very top of the highest peak, super hard; but not giving a fuck either about whether or not you receive validation? the HARDEST. (but today is not the day we get into that).

the moral of this story is:

if you write it, they will come.

your passion and your love will bring them in. somebody wants to read what you're writing. i promise it.

i started GOOMT, and i write it, and WILL keep writing it because i LOVE what i’m doing. i’m writing for ME, and i’m posting it so that anyone else who might be interested to share it with me can take the journey alongside. i never, EVER expected it to gain traction or the amount of attention it’s gotten and i’m truly, madly, DEEPLY grateful for everyone who has joined me and my boys through the story i have to tell. i’m straight up blown away that people like, or even love it as much as i do. i’m THRILLED. and for everyone who reads my older stuff (you nasties (loving), i see you digging around in my Batman trash, yeah you like that shit huh??? well i’ll do more….. Sometime In The Future™️), THANK YOU so MUCH. it keeps my ego inflated as well, as humble.

all in all my advice is: write. just fuckin' write.

write cringe.

write the AU you dream about in the messiest way.

just barf out all the words as they come, let them fly through your fingers.

write shit you’ll never post.

write it because it gives you a giggle or warms the cockles of your heart (or the sub-cockle area; maybe even your kidneys; i don’t know).

just write it. someone’s gonna fucking love it to the ends of the earth and thank you for writing it. they may never say anything, and you may never know how your work affected them - gave them confidence to create their own content; to interact with the fandom; to pursue another day, etc - but someone is always reading. someone is interested.

love yourself, love your work; they will see you, they will see how much you love what you do, and they will love you, and your creations, for it, too.

🥚🙏❤️

#ches writes #writing advice #rubs face. ok yeah get this out of my fuckin notes app LOL HERE GO FETCH #thumbs up lads...........#anon if you're still out there.. i'm so sorry......#for everyone else who decides they might tyr to read this...... bless ur hearts

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giggly-squiggily · 1 year

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@gladdygirl18

I tagged 1,346 of my posts in 2022

Only 7% of my posts had no tags

#tickle - 518 posts

#squiggily speaks - 512 posts

#ask - 478 posts

#fluff - 288 posts

#anon - 260 posts

#friend :3 - 234 posts

#tickle dabble - 217 posts

#demon slayer - 134 posts

#tickle fic - 133 posts

#sentence starters - 130 posts

Longest Tag: 130 characters

#gonna space these out so if i don't reply to them immediately just know i'm flailing about in my heart reading them akjerjarjkaekj

My Top Posts in 2022:

hi! hope ur doing well <3!!! For the requests, can u do platonic BakuDeku where maybe Bakugous parents need his measurements (since I think his dads a fashion designer?) and he asks Deku for help (since he’s super analytical), but he doesn’t realize it’d tickle so bad

Heyo! Sorry for the wait, anon! This was really cute to write, and it was such a fun prompt (I think so- his dad's a fashion designer and his mom's a model? I'll have to double check later)! :3 I've gotcha covered

“Bakugou hold still.”

“I am still, you damn nerd! Ack! Watch your hands!”

The pair were currently in Bakugou’s dorm, the mentioned boy standing on a small stool shirtless while Midoriya pressed the measuring tape against his arms and back. Earlier, Bakugou’s dad called, asking if he could come by over the weekend to help him with some costumes he was making. “Just send me your measurements and I’ll have them ready to wear when you get here!” He told him happily.

Bakugou had no idea what his measurements were, nor did he know how to get exact numbers, so he went to Midoriya for help. That’s how they got here.

Now if only he would just stay still.

“Stop squirming, I can’t get the right numbers with you being all wiggly.” Midoriya rolled his eyes as he once again pressed the tape against Bakugou’s back, the blonde jerking away from the touch. “What’s going on? Am I hurting you?”

“Tch-it doesn’t hurt! It…” Bakugou trailed off, a blush creeping up his neck as he gritted his teeth. “It’s cold! Yeah-cold.”

Midoriya looked at the tape, then at Bakugou. “Oh, okay.” He gathered up the tool in his hands, pressing it firmly until it felt warm again. “My bad- let’s try this again.” He pressed the tape against his back-

“S-SHIHIT!” Bakugou nearly went tumbling off the stool, startling Midoriya with his sudden shout. “Okay, that definitely wasn’t the tape. Kaachan, are you okay?” His hands reached out to balance the other, gripping his sides. “Are you sure you're not-” He paused, replaying what he just heard. “Was that a giggle?”

Bakugou stilled, eyes wide and face flushed with embarrassment as he averted his gaze. “N-No. Of course not! I just-Gaahaha!” The blonde yelped when Midoriya experimentally squeezed his waist, earning yet another gruff laugh. “No way- you’re still ticklish?”

“SHuuhuhut up! Don’t sahahhay it ohoohut louuuhuhuhd!” Bakugou tried to threaten, but Midoriya was already hooked, cheekily running his fingers up and down the other’s sides and bringing out more laughs. “Gahahahahaha! Fuhuuhhuhuck Deheheheeku! Yoohohohohu jeheheheerk!”

“Oh, I’m the jerk? Says the man who marched into my room this morning, tossed off his shirt and told me to ‘Measure me!’” Midoriya recalled, blinking as he finished. “That doesn’t sound too good saying it outloud, does it?” He shrugged. “All well-the point is you want me to measure you! So I’m measuring you!”

“Hohohohoohhoohow are yoohohohou meahahhahasuring mehehehehehe?”

“I’m measuring you by ticklishness! Let’s see what spots give the best reactions!” Midoriya giggled to himself, one hand reaching around to give Bakugou’s tum a scribble while the other locked itself on his hip, squeezing away. “So far I’d say your waist and hips are pretty good! What about here?”

“Dehehehehehehehheheeku! Gahahhahahahhahahahha! Fuuhuhuhuhucking nehehehehehhehrd! Gehehehehehehet oohohohoohohff! Pffft bwaahhahahahahah nohohohohot thehehehehhere!” Bakugou’s laughter increased when Midoriya squeezed beneath his ribs, making him nearly double over.

“Oo, good spot! I’ll keep that in mind.” The green haired hero moved upward, wiggling into the other’s ribs. Bakugou’s laughing fit lightened, but still remained consistent. “Ribs check out!

Bakugou was reaching his limit, cheeks red and eyes squeezed shut. He tried to avoid wriggling too much, even as Midoriya found that terrible spot near his armpits. “Gaahhahaha! Oohohohohkay! Oohohohohkay enohohohough!” He went to reach back and grab the other’s hands, his foot slipping and sending him crashing to the floor.

“Whoa, Kaachan!” Midoriya darted forward catching him just in time. The two went safely into the carpet, just barely avoiding injury. “Are you alright?” “Ahehehe…hehe…youhuhou…” Whatever Bakugou had to say he must have decided against it, reaching out and gently shoving the other. “Thahahat’s it- Come here!”

“Wait-Wahahhahahahahhahahahhait! Midoriya had no time to react when Bakugou suddenly pounced, pinning him to the ground and scribbling away at the other’s sides and waist. “Whahahahhahahat abhahahhaohohoohohut the mehehehehahshsurements?”

“Oh, we’ll get those later.” Bakugou grinned, eyes dancing with glee as Midoriya let out a squeal, cheeks aflame. “Let’s see if YOU measure up, you big nerd!”

I hope this was good!

133 notes - Posted March 7, 2022

Sensitivity Training (Demon Slayer)

Heyo! This is a commission for the lovely @biyppe! here on Tumblr! She had requested some good ol’ Lee!Giyu, and I am here to deliver! Thank you so much for your commission, friend!

Summary: In a rare change of events, Giyu agrees to train with everyone. Shenanigens ensue. (Word Count: 1.3k)

“Agh, I hate that freaking Tomioka! He thinks he’s so much better than us!” Sanemi grumbled, fists balled up tightly and a vein threatening to burst near his forehead. “Trains with us, but then runs off during the break! Who does he think he is?”

“Oh come on! Tomioka Isn't nearly as bad as you make him out to be.” Tengen rolled his eyes with a snort, sharing a look with Obanai. “He’s just not used to being around such flashiness!” They didn’t know what happened, exactly, but lately Giyu had made some efforts to be more social. He agreed to train with the three when offered, nearly sending Sanemi into an early grave from the shock. Now they were taking a break, and while training had been going mostly well, Sanemi was still…adjusting to this new presence of the Water Hashira.

“Besides, you're too noisy.” Obanai added from his perch, waving a finger at him. “Of course he’d distance himself when he can. You aren’t being welcoming enough.”

“Says the guy in the tree.” Sanemi grumbled, stretching his arms out as he took a few paces. “And I am being welcoming! I’m not treating him any different than usual!”

“Maybe that’s the problem?” Tengen mused, raising an eyebrow. “You're too harsh with your mannerisms! Try with more finesse! Actually make him want to stay during breaks!”

The Wind Hashira grumbled some more, words forgotten as the man of the hour returned. “Sorry- I needed to grab something.” Giyu nodded, putting aside the mentioned items and rejoining.

“Oo! See, Sanemi? Giyu didn’t run away!” Tengen hopped to his feet, tossing an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders, briefly startling him. “Let me show you how it’s done! So, Tomioka! Anybody catching your attention lately?”

“What? How does that have anything to do with training?” Giyu blinked, unprepared.

“Come on, surely you must like somebody!” Tengen grinned teasingly. “A handsome guy like you shouldn’t have any trouble finding a partner!” His eyes shot up to Obanai, who seemed to grow bored of the conversation. “I’ll tell you who Obanai likes if you tell us who you like.”

“Wha-TENGEN!” The serpent hissed, eyes widening and face heating up.

“He likes Mitsuri. Everyone knows that.” Giyu stated plainly, nearly sending Obanai flying off his branch. “He’s not exactly subtle about it.”

Sanemi snorted, covering his mouth quickly with wide eyes. Damn- he hadn’t meant to laugh. Tengen guffawed in glee.

“Ooo, you son of a- I’m gonna strangle you alive!” Obanai was on the ground in seconds, reaching for his blade. The only thing he found was air- they weren’t using swords today. “Come here!” “Whoa there- calm down!” Tengen tried to reason with him, but Obanai was already reaching for the other. Tengen pulled back just enough to keep Giyu’s neck out of the other’s grasp. Obanai’s darted forward, a hand grabbing at the other’s Haori in an attempt to keep him still.

“Ha!”

Everybody stilled, unprepared for the noise. Giyu felt his face burn.

“Did he just-”

“Was that-

“Are you-

“No! No, I’m not. It was nothing. Let me go.” Giyu went to wriggle out of Tengen’s grip, but the Sound Hashira was too strong, easily shifting his grip so Giyu was more or less pressed into his chest. “Oh ho ho. What was that?” Tengen teased the infamous ‘tickle monster’ mode coming out as he poked Giyu’s side, making him jerk with another breathy laugh. “He’s ticklish!”

“No, I’m no-Hot! T-Tengen!” Giyu squirmed more, trying to pry the other’s massive arm off as Tengen’s free hand wriggled against his side. “Gehehet off!”

“Oh, he’s breaking! Someone’s got a tickle spot!” Tengen cooed, grinning at the others present. “Come help me!”

“Ticklish, hm? Very well…” Obanai rolled up his sleeves, placing Kaburamaru safely on his shoulders. “This will teach you to be more tactful, no?”

“Ehehheheehe…looks like Mr. Cool’s got a weakness!” Sanemi practically glowed with mischief, cracking his knuckles as he gathered closer.

“Dohohon’t you dare- Sthahay bahhaack!” Giyu burst into giggles the second Obanai’s hands found his sides, fingers dancing along the sensitive skin. Even with two layers of protection, he still felt every stroke of the other’s fingers, ticklish waves pulsing through his skin again and again. “Ahehahahahhaha! Cohohohohome ohohohon! Dohoohohhoohn’t!”

“Aww! Not even trying to hold back now, huh?” Tengen snickered, the arm around Giyu’s torso reaching down to give his stomach and chest a few good scribbles. This free hand reached out and grabbed the hand trying to shove them away, raising it high. “Oh no you don’t! Prepare for all the tickles!”

“Ahehahhahahahha! Wahhahahahahhait-pfft bwahahhahhahaha! Nohohoohohot thehehehehere!” Giyu’s giggles grew to fuller laughs as Obanai began to pinch along his ribs, going for that terrible spot just where they began. “Not there? Come now- don’t tell me alittle tickling is gonna kill you.” Obanai taunted. Even though his face was covered with a mask, his eyes were alight with a smile.

“Alright, move over. It’s time to really show him what we’re made of.” Sanemi rolled his neck as he kneeled by Giyu’s open side, wiggling his fingers deviously. “Let’s see what happens…when I do THIS!”

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135 notes - Posted February 28, 2022

Betrayal (My Hero Academia)

@intheticklecloset HAPPY BIRTHDAY NYM!!!! or early/belated whenever you get this eajkrjewajr I wish you a day full of good thoughts and wishes friend! Originally I was gonna do some classic ShinDeku, but I know you've been into TodoBaku aswell and thought: "Let's change it up!" I hope you like it and once again Happy Birthday! :D

Summary: Bakugou should have never introduced Todoroki to Stardew Valley.

Bakugou had never felt more betrayed.

“Who the fuck is that?” He asked, glaring at the half-and-half hero lying by his side, hiding a tiny smirk behind his Switch.

“Sebastian. My boyfriend. That’s right- I’m cheating on you.” Todoroki dared to look at his boyfriend, his smirk growing at the shock on the blonde’s face. “Sorry you had to find out this way.”

“S-SEBASTIAN?” The audacity! “To cheat on me- and to cheat with the freaking emo computer nerd!” The explosive hero shook his head, gritting his teeth. “How dare you!”

“Oh I dared.” Todoroki turned his game to Bakugou, pointing at his newly acquired pig. “What should I name him?”

“How about McFucking Cheater Pants?”

“Hm…too long. What about Baconator?”

A wheeze escaped, rattling Bakugou’s ribs. He flattened his lips as he continued glaring. “That was dumb- this game is dumb- SEBASTIAN REALLY?” Right- back on track. “Of all the people you could have cheated on me with- him?”

“What’s wrong with Sebastian?” Todoroki fed his newly acquired pig, letting him join his other animals. “He’s nice.”

“What’s right about him? His name’s Sebastian!” Bakugou huffed, starting to pout as Todoroki began to fish. “I’d be less offended if you woo’d Elliot.”

“Nah, you’d throw an even bigger tantrum.”

“S-Shut the hell up, Icy Hot!” Bakugou growled, cheeks red. He really shouldn’t have introduced the other to Stardew Valley. If he didn’t need help with some of the materials, this never would have happened. “Tch. Sebastian.”

“Are you jealous?” Todoroki sounded amused- damn him!

“The hell I am! Why bother asking; you’ve got your little emo boy now.” Bakugou huffed and turned around, crossing his arms.

“Oh my god you ARE jealous.” Todoroki was grinning now, Bakugou could hear it in his voice. He felt the bed shift as Todoroki sat up, wrapping his arms around him from behind. “That’s actually really cute.”

“No the hell it’s not! And get off me!” Bakugou squirmed, elbowing the other. “I don’t want cuddles!”

“You sure?” Todoroki asked, smug as he felt Bakugou remain. “Thought so.”

“Hmph.” Bakugou turned his head away, his pout ever present.

“Baku.” Todoroki shook him gently. “Katsuki.”

“....”

Todoroki poked his shoulder. “You can’t ignore me forever, you know.”

“Bet.”

Todoroki poked him again, this time aiming for his ribs. “Come on now- don’t be mad.”

“Gah! D-Don’t!”

Another poke. Followed by another. “Ba-Ku-Gou.”

“Stop that!” Bakugou squirmed with each new jab, once again pressing his lips flat. “I’m mad at you!”

“I want you to be unmad at me.” Todoroki added a few fingers, gently wiggling his nails against his thin black tank. “Give us your blessing for our future wedding.”

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138 notes - Posted October 28, 2022

A fairly short, but much needed dabble of Avren. Thank you.

~~~

"Wohohohould you geeheheht oohohohoff! Gahhahahaha!" Arven grunted and squirmed, barely fighting down the giggles bubbling over his lips.

"Not now- I'm planning." You murmured above him, tapping along your "map". "We need to find the next mystic herb. If you keep moving, the trail's gonna look all kinds of funny."

"The mahahhahp's over theheheheher-Ehhhheehehe!" He tried to argue, voice breaking as you "marked" another spot. Yohoohohur just beehehehehing riihihihiidicuhuhuhulous!"

"I'm being mindful. If I plan on the actual map, I can't rework the route." You smiled up at him as your fingers wormed beneath his shirt, dragging down the soft skin beneath your touch. "Besides- didn't you once tell me a picnic expert's belly is their ultimate compass?"

"Thahahahhat was mehehehetaphohohohricahaah-AHHAHAL!" He arched beneath you with a high pitched cackle when you pinched around the center of his belly. "STahhahahahap iihihihihiiht!"

"Nope! Now let's see...according to the map...we are here." You drilled a finger into a pudgy part. "And we need to go..." Dragging said finger towards his belly button, you nearly snorted as his laugh grew whistle-like. "Here!" You jabbed at it, earning another squeak. "Think there's anything special here? Hey- what helps with digestion?"

"The Swehehehehehet one- WAHAHAHIT NOHOHOHOOHOHOHO!" Arven all but screamed when you ducked your head, blowing a loud raspberry against his belly. "WHAHAHHHAIT WHHHIIIHIHIY?"

"Figured I'd try it myself and see what it tastes like. You're right- it's rather sweet! Like Raspberries!" You giggled against him while he let out a series of pig snorts, heels kicking helplessly into the ground behind you as he weakly shoved. "I want some more."

"SHIIHIHIHIHIT STAHAHHAHAHHAP!" His guffaws radiated off the walls of the cave while you carried on tickling, bringing your hands into the mix once more. Beside you, Miraidon and Mabosstiff layied side by side, seeming to enjoy the happy sounds around them.

Thanks for reading!

188 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Volo Headcanons (Pokemon Legend Arceus)

Heyo! Kinda spontaneous but I got inspired and decided to share some headcanons for my boy Volo!

Volo is a complete wimp in tickle fights. For real- he can’t handle even the sight of someone wiggling their fingers at him- he’ll immediately jump away in giggles!

Want a discount on items in his shop? Tickle him. No really- he’ll break so fast!

His worst spots are his stomach and sides- he’s so tall it's hard for him to defend from such attacks! He doesn’t even try fighting back- tickling him there will send him doubling over and curling into a ball. His other death spot is his neck, but only people close to him are allowed to touch there.

He’s fairly weak to all kinds of tickles, but rougher ones are usually a guaranteed way to wrecking him. He likes softer ones with his S/O though.

Prettiest laugh! He’s got a contagious one that's so inviting and warm it’s near impossible to not laugh along with him! He’ll also snort if you tickle him long enough, so that’s something to keep in mind!

If he does tickle you back (Which he will) he’s incredibly playful about it! Sneak attack tickles? Yes please! He loves poking people in the ribs before scurrying away. If he does stick around to tickle his victims, he’s incredibly teasey about it. “Oh, is this a bad spot?” “What about here? Hm? Aww, are you ticklish?”

Ironically enough he cannot for the life of him handle teases in return. Even the word “tickle” alone makes him blushy and weak.

If your his S/O, he loves post tickle cuddles if your comfortable with them. Them running their fingers through his hair as he catches his breath is one of the most comforting things for him. He’ll gladly return the favor if his S/O’s okay with it. He’s just a big ol’ sweetheart who deserves all the love!

223 notes - Posted January 30, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post #momentarily broke my offline vacation because this came out :D #going back offline see y'all this weekend!

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