#I’m not ready to open my box yet but I miss u all!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jeonqkooks · 2 years

Note

jen, jen, jen! i'm here to plaaay ;u;

i shall choose the prompt "things you said in writing" but for any couple/completely new pairing that you see fit!

hehe i hope you have fun with the requests, my love~

before we go | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre/warnings: exes au, idol au, angst, fluff if you squint

word count: 1.7k (not v edited yet again but wbk!)

note: i love these peeps with my whole being but apparently i also love making them suffer, i swear they’re my babies tho 😭 anyway as i was thinking what to write for the prompt this idea popped up and i just ran with it, i hope you like it cee my love 🥺 <3

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards

“I have something for you.”

“Jungkook.”

“I didn’t spend any money if that’s what you’re thinking,” he chuckles humorlessly. “I was going to surprise you on our anniversary.”

The wooden box he hands you is fairly light; when you shake it, there’s only some faint shuffling of paper inside. On the smooth willow surface are your initials and his, separated by a heart-shaped lock. He fishes a small golden key from his pocket.

“I shouldn’t,” you say when he holds it for you to take. “I don’t think it’s a good idea–”

“I want you to have it.” He doesn’t take no for an answer, reaching for your hand and placing the key in your palm. His touch is warm; you wish he hadn’t done that.

You stare at him for a moment, feeling the cool metal in your loose grip that prompts a chill up your spine. After another minute, you relent. “What is it?”

The air is thick between the two of you but it isn’t uncomfortable, not exactly. It’s somber, it’s secret glances loaded with unspoken thoughts, it’s the finality of it all—the process of going back to being strangers when you’re still the axis that each other’s world revolves around.

“I…” He gives you a tight-lipped smile as he hesitates, scratching the back of his neck and looking close to apprehensive that it makes you a little nervous. “I wrote you a note for every day that I was on tour.”

“Jungkook…” It burns behind your eyes while your heart stutters and your throat closes up. You look at him, he looks at you. Two hearts hang heavy on either side of the threshold before one has to go. “Thank you,” you manage to say, “I’ll open it later.” You’re not sure if you ever will, but you appease him for now. It’s the last time anyway.

Hours have passed, and you keep glancing at the box sitting on your desk as if it’s calling out your name with a distorted megaphone. You contemplated putting it at the bottom of your closet at one point just so you wouldn’t have to look at it, but then you’d still know where it was and itch to see it again.

In the end, it isn’t surprising when curiosity and possibly a tinge of masochism triumphed at midnight, right as you’re about to go to slip under the covers. So here you are, readying yourself with a few deep breaths as if you’re Pandora herself, seconds before she unleashed all of life’s miseries upon the world. You slip the key into the lock, though no amount of preparation could have armed you for this.

There must be a couple hundreds of notes inside—it was for every day that he was away after all, Jungkook told you as much; you don’t know why you’re still rendered speechless—all dated and marked with his neat handwriting. He’s said before that he isn’t good with words—this is his way of sending love letters to you. Each letter inscribed with the most carefree of intentions, now tinted with a shade of melancholy.

First day of this little project! I hope you aren’t sick of me by the time I’m finished. It hasn’t been 24 hours yet and I already miss you like hell. How am I supposed to handle months without you?

You don’t think he missed a single day, though if he did, you can forgive him. You’re able to picture it so vividly—him hunched over a desk after every show, his body begging for rest but he still willed himself to stay up, diligently composing thoughtful notes for you. Each one is enunciated with an I love you at the end, next to a clumsily drawn heart. His inked hearts on paper look much more whole than the beating one in your chest does right now.

You had a bad day at work today. You said you were tired and wouldn’t let me call you on video, but I knew you were crying. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to make you feel better. I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get home.

Some were more painfully honest than others, some were more playful and cheeky. Some were longer, some were shorter—he must have been exhausted on those nights, eyelids drooping with every stroke of the pen and muscles aching from constantly performing, but he still kept going, he had to. There wasn’t much that he was able to do for you—couldn’t hold your hand in public, couldn’t kiss you whenever he wanted, couldn’t let you call him yours when you were the centerpiece that he revolved around—but this, at least Jungkook could do this.

I just sent a package for your birthday. I hope it arrives on time. When you read this you’ll have remembered what it was ;)

Maybe it was a bad idea, but you’re in too deep. You wonder what he’s doing right now. Is he sitting in his room alone too, wondering the same thing about you? Wondering if you’ve opened his gift and seen his love manifested in written form? You know he’s probably still awake, having recently settled into a new pattern of restlessness—the bags under his eyes told you so themselves earlier today, that he hasn’t been sleeping well when usually he would clock out within five minutes of tucking himself into bed.

Last night I dreamt that we broke up. I woke up crying. I had to call you in the middle of your meeting to make sure it wasn’t real.

If you hadn’t done what you did, if you had waited to celebrate your anniversary and continued to let him be exhausted every time he came around to see you, let him drop your hand in fear and hold it in secret, let your love bloom in the dark like an eighth deadly sin that couldn’t be uttered aloud. If then, perhaps you’d be sitting next to Jungkook while you read these, laughing together whenever he wrote something stupid and giving him constant kisses because his earnest words deserve to know that they’re heard, by you.

But that’s all they are now—only what if’s—and all they will ever be again.

I saw so many dogs today. There was the cutest Maltese I’ve ever seen - but she was feisty, almost bit my finger off though. We should get Bam a friend after I get back!

Then, you wonder what the hypothetical you’s and the hypothetical him’s are doing. Are they happy? Surely they must be, you think you’re suffering enough for all versions of reality. Maybe they’re cuddling by a fire, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her waist, no space between their bodies nor their hearts. There could be pure chaos in the world but it wouldn’t matter because they’ve got each other. Nothing could happen to disturb their peace, no one would come to tear them apart. You could only yearn for this kind of ending.

I think I messed up on stage tonight. I wish you were here with me. You’re a better hugger than Jimin.

You go through them all in one sitting—albeit you have to take a break after every couple of sentences because it keeps getting harder to breathe—choosing to let anguish wash over you in one spectacular tsunami so the hurt doesn’t linger for too long. (It doesn’t work like that, but you’re hopeful nonetheless.) The key on your bed looks like it weighs a thousand pounds when it’s barely the length of two knuckles. Examining it closely, you’ve only now noticed that it’s engraved too, with your initials on one side and his on the other. A fresh wave of tears rolls down your cheeks again. “I wish you were here with me too,” you mumble into the quietude of night. You’re in the same city, reading the notes that he wrote for you when he was oceans away.

The guys are out drinking but I stayed at the hotel to call you. I said I felt like I could die if I had to go another day without seeing you. You said I was being dramatic but I don’t think I am. I miss you a lot.

The sun is almost up—you’ve been sitting here for almost the entire night. From your bedroom window, you can see pitch black slowly fade into dark blue, then it gets lighter, and lighter, and with every shift in the horizon you can feel every ache that has settled in every crevice of your being. It’s starting to get cold now—oh, how it’s so cold, a stark contrast to the flames that were threatening to engulf you whole.

It doesn’t feel like a new day, a new beginning. Time has stopped and you’re frozen in place, waiting on a salvation that will never come, longing for a love that will remain incomplete. Unfinished.

I made Jin hyung choke on his mouthwash tonight. You should’ve seen his face, it was hilarious. Oh wait, I have a video. I’ll send it to you right now.

Maybe you’ll turn this key into a necklace, one that lies over your chest and next to your heart. Feel the coolness of it against your skin so you won’t forget that he’s been there before, in your heart. Jungkook was once here and he wouldn’t leave—it’s his permanent residence now. It isn’t like you could ever let it slip your mind, but having a physical reminder would be nice. Mementos of your love, you could laugh at how seriously he took the notion—you even have something to help you safeguard them now, akin to a treasure chest.

If you could, you would take all the hurt and all the love and place it in this box. Lock it away to revisit it only when you desire, like reuniting with an old friend that you thought you had lost since long ago. But alas, you can’t—you’d have to settle for carrying it with you wherever you go.

Just wrapped up our final show. I guess this is the last note, for now. I can’t believe I’m finally seeing you again tomorrow. I’ve missed you so much, wait for me just a little longer, baby.

Funny how there were no stars tonight; it’s like they all followed him home.

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts x reader #bts scenarios #jungkook drabbles #jeon jungkook #fic: supernova

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mountswhore · 2 years

Note

Hiii! Happy new year!!

Got a weird idea in my head that I think you would write really well!

U and mason have been together forever now (like 4 years +) and you made it official at a nye party, and since have been madly in love, finnaly mason met your family over Xmas as covid and football delayed you flying all the way to Australia.

He struggled to think of any anniversary ideas being in a completely new place so he asks your family, and this made you happy that they liked him and he liked your family, Wich was one of the best anniversary gifts ever.

😊😊😊

𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 — mason mount

summary: you visit your family in australia for christmas, and you’re happy to find out your family love him.

notes: requests are CLOSED.

“Are you ready to go?” You asked Mason, dragging your suitcase across the foyer and planting it beside the door. Mason looked half asleep, as the two of you had to wake up at 20 to 3 in the morning just to make this flight. But Mason wouldn’t complain, this was for a special reason.

It was going to be his first Christmas in Australia, with your family. The two of you had been together for four years, but them living on the other side of the world meant you didn’t get to see them a lot. And with COVID and Mason’s busy football schedule, you finally had the perfect opportunity to introduce Mason to them properly. They’d seen pictures of each other, heard each other on calls, seen glimpses of each other on video calls, and now they get to meet each other in person.

“I’m ready to go down under,” Mason joked, trying his hand at a poor Australian accent, “let’s go.” The two of you put your suitcases into your car and began your drive to the airport, shivering at the cold, December air around you. It’d be different once you got there, as Christmas in Australia was warm.

You were leaving on the 23th, and coming home on the 27th in time for the New Year. Mason was nowhere near ready for this flight, no matter how eager he looked clutching his ticket at the gate. The flight was over 21 hours, and you had plenty to do. The pair of you slept, listened to music, played travel games, and watched movies. He couldn’t keep still, having to take trips to the toilet every hour just to be able to walk about. He was usually an active man, so sitting down for almost a whole day felt unusual.

When the flight was over, and you were leaving the airport to catch your cab, it was eight in the morning. And yet you felt like death warmed up.

“That was the worst flight I’ve ever been on, and I’m well travelled,” Mason huffed, pulling his seatbelt on in the backseat of the cab. You laughed at him, enjoying the scenery of your home country that you missed so dearly, shaking with excitement at the thought of seeing your family.

You had a big family, who all liked to join together for Christmas, and it made Mason feel fuzzy inside. Spending time with family was his favourite part of Christmas, and for you to be so family oriented, it was a dream come true. You usually had both parents, your two older siblings, their respective families, and your younger sister for Christmas Day, and then your grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins join you for Boxing Day. This would be the busiest Christmas Mason would experience.

Arriving at your old home, you felt a wave of nostalgia. For Mason to see the place you grew up, the place you left at 18 for University, the place you so desperately missed, it made you warm inside. And when your mum opened the door to you, Mason could just about control the tears that so desperately wanted to leave his eyes. It was so beautiful to see, he couldn’t imagine being so far away from his family. He was greeted by your parents, and your younger sister, Ava, who was the sassiest, funniest six-year-old he’d ever met.

“Ava,” your mum exclaimed, rolling her eyes at her daughter who had asked Mason the seventh question in the space of a minute, “would you leave them alone? They’ve spent God knows how long on a plane.”

“It’s fine, really.” Mason laughed, accepting the hug Ava so desperately wanted, and catching sight of you.

You were already admiring the tree, and all of the ornaments that you and your siblings all made when you were younger. Various handprints, names, baubles with pictures of you all on them, he felt completely at home here already. And he didn’t stop himself from smiling as you caught his gaze on you.

“Do you need sleep? Do you need food? I can cook something up for you,” your mum questioned, both hands on your face as she inspected you. It felt like you constantly changed whenever you went home to the UK, you were growing more rapidly than your siblings, it seemed.

You giggled, pushing your mum’s hands away, “no mum, we’re okay. Although, we might get some rest.”

The two of you were in your old bedroom, your sheets made perfectly by your mum before your arrival. And as you shoved your suitcases under the bed and pulled the sheets open, Mason was staring at every inch of your room. Admiring all of the school awards, sports trophies, pictures with friends. It was so completely and utterly you.

“Ready to sleep, Mount?”

“Will you ever stop calling me that?” Mason asked, getting into bed beside you and facing you, his hand stroking the outline of your jaw.

“Nope, almost four years strong.” You smiled, reminding yourself of your upcoming anniversary, on New Year’s day. You would be in the comfort of your own home again by that time, and you couldn't wait to celebrate it with him.

"What am I gonna do with you, hm?" Mason asked rhetorically, stroking your cheek softly as your eyes closed. The pair of you were exhausted from the flight you'd just been on, and needed sleep more than anything. But Mason wanted to make sure you were asleep first, he always did. He took in your features as you slowly slid into a peaceful slumber, watching as your eyelashes stopped fluttering on your cheeks, your lips part ever so gently, and you were still against his chest.

Mason had woken up before you, just as your family were speaking about dinner. He'd left you in your bed, deciding to make himself useful downstairs and hope to get to know your family a bit better. Your mum was leaning against the counter, watching as Ava stirred something in a mixing bowl.

"Mason! You're awake," your mum's accent being strangely new to him despite getting used to hearing yours for four years, but yours was now washed down with a British accent now, "how was your sleep?"

"Good, still feel drained though. But I think that will be gone by tomorrow." He answered, stepping into the kitchen and peering into the bowl Ava was concentrated on, and saw her grin cheekily at him. "What's that you're making?"

"Mummy said I can make gingerbread biscuits," she mentioned, pointing at the tanned dough beneath her, and Mason pulled a face of shock.

"They're my favourite!"

You'd woken up an hour after, confused as to where your boyfriend had gone. You made your way through your old home, finding Mason on the couch beside Ava, watching a Christmas movie. Ava had her feet on Mason's lap, and Mason seemed more interested in the movie than she was.

Your mum was in the kitchen, putting some baking equipment away, and a cinnamon smell hit your nostrils. It smelt just how it did every Christmas, and you could feel your excitement bubbling up again.

"Oh, hello sweetheart. Did you sleep well?" She asked, rubbing her hand over the back of your head. You nodded, feeling like a child again and leaning against the counter. Your mum glanced at Mason and Ava on the couch, before giggling quietly to herself.

"What's so funny?" You asked, flicking the kettle down and waiting for the hot water to boil.

"He get's on so well with her, you know that? They were just outside watering all of the plants," your mum commented, and you chuckled. Mason would never do that at home, mainly because the two of you were nowhere near as interested in gardening as your mum was.

"Where's dad?"

"He's gone shopping for presents, he's the only one left to buy gifts," she replied, moving you out the way to make your drink for you. She had a tendency to do that a lot. "I don't know why he leaves it until Christmas Eve. Now, you go and sit down. I'll bring your tea in."

It was finally Christmas Day, and Ava was galloping into your room to wake you up. You groaned, covering your face with a pillow to hide from the blaring sunlight, forgetting it was the middle of summer here in Australia. But Mason sat up, giggling with Ava, before following her downstairs.

I might as well get up too, you thought, pulling on Mason's hoodie that sat at the foot of the bed, in hopes to keep the warmth you were sleeping in.

It was tradition to open gifts before dinner, so you were all heading out for breakfast. A lot of places weren't open, but there was a cafe nearby that was open for people who didn't have anyone to celebrate with. And it was lovely to go and visit some regulars that you'd gotten to know every year, and Mason was more than excited to join in on it.

"I'm so happy here, you know?" Mason mentioned to you, as you both stood in your bathroom mirror, you brushing your hair and Mason washing his face. You looked up at him, giving him a sheepish smile.

"I bet, although, I prefer cold Christmas to warm Christmas," you retorted, the pair of you laughing. It fell into silence once again, and Mason wrapped his arms around you, breathing in your scent.

"I love your family, and I think they love me," he spoke, sounding unsure of the last part, which made you laugh, "we should have them down at ours next Christmas." It was definitely an idea, you just weren't sure Ava could take the 20+ hour flight yet.

"Possibly."

#mason mount #mase #money mase #mason mount imagine #mason mount fic #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x reader #mason mount smut #mason mount blurb #mason mount one shot #mason mount request #mm19

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turtle-steverogers · 3 years

Note

i was thinking but do you know the unsent project? it is this website where you can write a message to your first love that you never sent to them. now imagine steve writing one (or multiple) to bucky after he came out of the ice after nat told him about it... yeah

hello hi anon this broke me and it was too perfect not to turn into a ficlet klafjldskjfalskf thank you

Unsent Letters

To:

Steve’s fingers freeze over the keyboard, the cursor blinking at him. It feels like it’s taunting him-- teasing him with the burden of choking out a name. What should he even say? The sender is anonymous, but how many people are named Bucky out there? Would anyone even care?

To: Bu

Steve huffs and backspaces, his hands trembling as he curls them into fists. He isn’t sure what provoked Natasha to tell him about this website. It’s a cruel tease to everything he wishes he could say-- wished he could say before Bucky slipped through his fingers. And now his only option is yelling into an abyss. The text box is black and daunting. He turns it yellow. No, too happy. Green. Yes, that’s fine. Bucky’s favorite color was always green.

His gaze wanders away from the screen of his hefty Dell laptop and out the window of his apartment. DC’s low rising buildings span out in front of him. His gut aches; he misses New York already. But he knows being there would only mangle his soul further, seeing his already alien home torn to shreds by literal space whales. He huffs, thinking of Bucky’s comics. His stories came to life after all. Bucky would have probably vibrated out of his skin if he knew there was other life out there.

To: My astronaut

How’s space treating you? It’s treating me pretty badly, if I’m being honest. If only you could see what it’s done to Brooklyn. I think you’d be pretty mad at it if you knew…

Steve hesitates, reading back over what he’s typed. It’s stupid as hell, and he cringes, but he doesn’t backspace. His fingers find the keys again.

I miss you something awful. I don’t think that even encompasses how much I’m hurting without you. I feel so lost right now-- space is much bigger and scarier than you’d think. I know you’d love it. I wish you could see bits of it, but god, I just want to go home. I want you to come home.

Steve freezes again and finds the screen blurry where tears have welled in his eyes. His jaw clenches as he pictures the way Bucky would laugh at him-- teasing him for his dramatics and ruffling his hair. He wishes he could be there now, rolling his eyes and nudging Steve’s shoulder.

“What’re you upsetting yourself for?” He’d say, gently closing the laptop and coaxing Steve into his arms. “I’m right here, pal.”

And if Steve closes his eyes, he can almost feel Bucky’s warmth enveloping him. But he’s not there. He’s dead, and Steve’s a goddamn ghost, drifting through a future that doesn’t know him.

He opens his eyes and stares at the text box, then clicks submit.

The screen loads, and his message is gone, his pain forever documented in the abyss.

For someone who fought aliens two weeks after waking up from his impromptu seventy year sleep, Steve’s life is pretty monotonous. He contemplates this unfortunate fact as he stands in front of his toaster, hair sticking up on the back of his head as he nurses a mug of coffee and waits for his toast to pop.

It’s 5:45 in the morning and he tries to remember a time when he didn’t rise this early. Before the war, perhaps. Though, he’s always been a bit of an early bird. His home life was sporadic to put it lightly and he’d learned from an early age that the sooner he was awake, the better it was for everyone. Vigilance is not a new concept for Steve.

He hasn’t always stayed up late, though. That’s certainly new, and he feels this fact viscerally as he catches sight of his reflection in the microwave. There are bags under his eyes that will be gone by mid-morning thanks to the serum. Dermatologists hate him, Natasha says. Steve thinks he’s pretty lucky that the serum more or less equipped him with a built-in anti-aging agent. His father had started balding by thirty.

His toast pops and he starts a little, blinking blearily at the slightly burnt bread as he pulls it out of the toaster with his thumb and forefinger. He spreads on the same raspberry jam and butter that he uses every morning and tries not to think of how bland it tastes in his mouth as he eats it standing at the counter. Another routine.

He tries not to look at last night’s dishes in the sink as he stacks his plate and silverware on top and doesn’t bother sorting out his hair before pulling on his sneakers and slipping out of his apartment. The sun hasn’t quite risen yet, only the beginning tendrils of light sneaking over the low tops of the DC buildings, and Steve vaguely regrets not grabbing a sweatshirt before he left. It’s not quite Summer yet and the mornings could still get pretty cool.

He’s about to take off down the street when he freezes. Natasha is sitting on the steps of his complex, wearing a pair of pink tinted sunglasses and tossing up and down the keys to her car. Steve blinks, rubs his eyes, then blinks again. Nope. She’s still there.

“Nat?”

Natasha looks up at him and smiles. “Hello.”

Steve shifts, uncomfortable. “Hi. You need something? Is there a mission?”

“No,” Natasha says lightly, standing. “You’re not running this morning, though. Come on, I’m taking you to Starbucks.”

“What?”

“Starbucks. You’re going to try it.”

“I don’t want--”

“Steve, you do the same thing every day. Step out of your comfort zone a little.”

Steve frowns, but Natasha’s right-- he really doesn’t ever stray from his routine.

“Fine,” he says, and twenty minutes later, they’re strolling into the nearest Starbucks.

He’s only been in one before, and that was to use the restroom while on a run. He’d bought a water bottle in an attempt to not be rude and use their facilities without giving them any business, but he hadn’t even considered the expansive menu. All the fancy names were too daunting.

They’re just as daunting now as he stares up at the board, heart hammering out of his chest as he’s faced with indecision. Natasha takes one look at his face, and reaches out to squeeze his arm.

“I’ll order something for you,” she says. “What kind of coffee do you like?”

Steve gives her a pained look. “Um… just coffee?”

Natasha quirks a smile and orders him something called a caramel macchiato. He’ll take it, he guesses.

The drink is too damn sweet and sugary and he almost gags. Still, he was always told to finish what he was given, so he drinks the whole thing.

To: Mr. Sweet Tooth

You’d fucking love it here. Everything is packed with sugar and sweetness-- enough to make even my teeth rot. I had something called a caramel macchiato today and it tasted like someone took your ma’s caramels and condensed them into a cup. I couldn’t stand it, but I know if you were here, you’d want at least twelve. I hope you’re enjoying all the sweets you can up in space.

Love, Mr. Boring

Steve’s fingers are stiff and frozen as he works at the straps of his stealth suit. The tangy taste of saltwater still sits heavy on his tongue, and he clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering too harshly as he finally peels off his suit. It’s not much better, being naked, but at least the wet fabric isn’t clinging to him anymore.

The mission had been pretty straightforward until some alien tech managed to blast the quinjet to kingdom come, and they all free-fell straight into the freezing Atlantic.

Steve had managed to keep it together as they took down the goddamn mad scientist that fucked them over, but now that he’s home and alone, he can feel the adrenaline crashing.

He’s shaking from more than just the cold as he draws himself a warm bath, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, trying to breathe through the panic that wants to engulf his entire being.

He loses time for a bit, and comes back to himself lying in his bed, burrowed under several thick layers. He feels so cold, down to his very soul-- a chill that he can never seem to truly shake, even when he’s warm.

Not for the first time, he wishes Bucky were there to hold him. He slips off to sleep thinking old, comforting thoughts of Bucky rubbing his hands between his own, coaxing his head under his chin to engulf him in that natural warmth of his. He always was a fucking furnace.

But when Steve wakes an hour later, shaking hard enough to move the bed with the force of the nightmare he’d dropped into, Bucky is not there to soothe away the ice.

To: JB

im so cold and i cant breathe ever and nothing feels right. I dont know what to do, u were always the problem solver between us and i cant think straight right now and i just want you here please. I cant do this anymore, im so tired please come back. I need you please

The Winter Soldier file sits in front of Steve-- a horrifying nightmare wrapped up in a neat brown folder. Residual nausea swirls around in his gut as he comes down from the horrible high of reading through the contents. His hands shake where they grasp the thick paper. His heart clenches hard in his chest.

Bucky is alive. Bucky is alive, and he’s been unmade.

Steve doesn’t know where he is-- if he’s escaped, or if Hydra found him again. It’s been three weeks now since the helicarriers, and he’s only just gotten the courage to sit down and wade through the shit that is Bucky’s reality.

He just hopes he’s safe. God, he hopes.

Sam says he’ll help him look, and Steve needs to know he’s at least out of danger, but he barely knows where to start.

And he’s sorry. He’s so fucking sorry.

Blinking out of his reverie, Steve looks at his laptop. He feels strange and detached as he reaches for it and logs in.

To: Bucky

And yes, that feels right. He should use his name, since he suspects no one has for a long, long time.

I’m so sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurting so quietly for so long. I understand if you’re not ready to come home-- I understand if you never are. I just hope that you know that there will always be a place with me that is safe. I love you so much and I’m here, forever and always.

Love, Steve.

He’s not naive. He knows it would be dangerous to submit that particular message, so he doesn’t. But that’s okay. That one’s just for him-- for them.

“Steve? What is the… Unsent Project?”

Steve frowns and pokes his head out of the kitchen. Bucky is sitting on the couch in the living room, using his laptop, because his own is having storage issues.

Bucky looks at him. “It’s one of your saved tabs. What is it?”

And oh, fuck. Steve had forgotten to remove that from his homepage-- it really wasn’t needed anymore. He blushes all the way to his ears.

“Oh, it’s-- nothing. Not anything important--”

But Bucky has already clicked on the tab.

“The Unsent Project,” he reads aloud. “A collection of unsent text messages to… first… loves…”

He trails off as he processes what he’s looking at, and Steve can’t quite read his expression when he looks at him again. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s looking at Steve like he’s some sort of kicked puppy. Steve shifts, uncomfortable.

“Were you sending me… messages? While I was dead?”

Steve swallows. “Um…” and now that Bucky says it out loud, it really does sound quite sad. He shrugs. “It’s Natasha’s fault?”

Bucky shakes his head, clicking on the search bar. He starts to type his name, but Steve shakes his head.

“I didn’t use your name.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, then frowns at him again. “What did you use?”

Steve blushes harder, sitting next to Bucky and taking the laptop from him.

“Um…” he hesitates, then types what he was sure he used as his first alias.

My astronaut

The screen buffers and loads, then fifty or so messages pop up. Steve scrolls down-- it doesn’t take long to find his.

They’re both quiet as they read, and Steve cringes. Jeez, he really had been pretty dramatic. Next to him, Bucky makes a hurt noise.

“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, taking the laptop back from Steve. He reads the message again, then once more, and reaches out for Steve. “Aw, I’m here now.”

Steve huffs, embarrassed. “I know,” he says. “That was way back, like, three weeks after I woke up.”

Bucky stills. “You fought aliens three weeks after you woke up?”

“... More like two.”

Bucky hums. “Are there others?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, reaching out to type on Bucky’s lap, because Bucky is holding him now and he’s quite reluctant to move. He thinks for a moment, then types in the next one he remembers.

Mr. Sweet Tooth

Bucky laughs, and Steve finds himself smiling.

“I find this funny,” Bucky says. “Because caramel macchiatos are definitely one of my favorites now.”

Steve laughs, too, and butts his head against Bucky’s shoulder.

“If only I could tell that to myself back then-- he’d be thrilled.”

“I’m sure,” Bucky says. “Any more?”

Steve hesitates, thinking of the one he’d sent after that nightmare-- when he was low and hurting. Incoherent. He isn’t sure he wants Bucky to see that particular side of his soul, but Bucky has been more than generous in letting him in on his pains nowaday, and it’s not like Bucky hasn’t witnessed Steve’s own current nightmares.

He bites his lip and types in JB. That seems to yield a lot more results, and it takes a while for Steve to find the message.

He hides his face in Bucky’s neck as he reads. Bucky’s arms gradually tighten around him, and a moment later, he feels him kiss the top of his head.

“Honey, I hate that you were hurting so bad,” Bucky mutters against his hair.

Steve shrugs. “We both were,” he says, and it’s true. There’s something to be said about the guilt they both feel for not being able to save the other person at their lowest, but life hasn’t been kind to them. The vitriol, Steve thinks, should be directed at the goddamn universe for keeping them apart, not themselves for fucking dying. They’re working on it.

Bucky’s quiet for a long time. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says. “Is that it?”

Steve shakes his head. “But I never sent the last one.”

“Why not?”

“I wrote it after DC.”

He feels Bucky squeeze him again, and he squeezes back.

“Oh.”

“I just-- I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to come home. That I just wanted you to be safe; needed to know you were safe, but it was up to you. I just needed you to know I was here, if you needed me.”

Bucky pulls back then and cups his face, kissing him soundly. Steve’s surprised for only a moment before he’s kissing back.

“I did know that,” Bucky says against his lips. “I needed time-- I was lost-- but the first thing I knew when I remembered who you were was that you were a safe person, because you’d never force me anywhere.”

Steve kisses him again, then pulls him into a hug. “I’m glad you knew that.” It’s warm, where their chests meet, and Bucky is solid beneath him. Real. He isn’t speaking into an abyss anymore.

There’s a sticky note on Bucky’s pillow next to his head when he wakes up the next morning. Steve’s side of the bed is already vacant, and he can’t hear him downstairs. He must have already left for a run.

Propping himself on an elbow, Bucky plucks up the sticky note.

To: My Bucky

Thank you for choosing me to be your home, and thank you forever, for being mine.

I love you with everything I have.

Love, your Steve

Bucky smiles, heart light as he folds the notes. He’ll keep that one with him, he thinks. A little bit of home to bring wherever he goes.

anyway yeah fslkjflaskjfls i-- ouch. anything to do with letters w these two hurts me immensely

#i did not proofread this at all so i just kNOW im going to read this back later and find a whole bunch of typos oops #stucky #stucky fic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #idiots in love #sad stevie aw

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vivalas-vega · 2 years

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guardian / benny miller x reader / part two

hi, here is part two! I'm really excited for where this story is gonna go, lmk what u think! the second half of this is just filth so ur welcome

guardian: chapter two

add yourself to my taglist

word count:

warnings: benny in the ring, blood, drinking, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it before u tap it folks)

Y/N found herself in a high school gym converted into a boxing arena for the night suddenly feeling out of her element. Having lived the life she had up until this moment, she rarely ever felt that way. She wondered if it was the middle-aged dads surrounding her looking to let loose for the night or the fact that she didn’t know if she was here as a new addition to the friend group or a potential new girlfriend to the defending champion.

“Hermosa, you made it!” Santi said, coming up and hugging her from behind.

“Of course I did, couldn’t miss an opportunity to hang out with a bunch of drunk old white guys in a high school gym.” She said looking around as Santi released her and pulled her towards the makeshift bar. “Is it even legal to sell alcohol in a high school?” She asked as he paid for their drinks and handed her what she assumed would be disgusting beer.

“Don’t know, don’t care.” He said as they made their way out of the gym and through a back hallway.

“Where are we going?”

“To see your boy before he fights.”

“Hush, he’s not my boy.” She said, rolling her eyes at him.

“Then why did you wake up in his bed this morning?” He teased and she shoved his shoulder as they approached the doors. “Everyone decent?” He yelled as he poked his head in, opening it further to let you in when he got the all clear. She found all the boys sitting on the tiny benches while Benny looked to be preparing for the fight. His demeanor immediately softened when he saw her, opening his arms to pull her in for a hug.

She placed a quick kiss on his cheek, “lookin’ good, Miller. These shorts are definitely the look for you,” she teased before hugging the rest of the guys.

“Glad you’re here, Y/N. He’s been a real sourpuss all day,” Frankie said, swiping the beer from her hand and taking a swig, completely ignoring her protests.

“With the way he woke up? Not sure how he could be in a sour mood,” Santi added. She rolled her eyes at him yet again and walked over to Benny as the rest of the boys settled into a different conversation.

“How you feelin’?” She asked, taking the tape from his hands to help tape his knuckles. He smiled at how delicate she was, holding his hand in hers as she wrapped.

“Better now that you’re here.”

“So corny, Miller.” She looked up at him for a moment before returning her focus to her task, “feel ready?”

“Hell yeah I do, so long as you’ll be front and center.”

“As promised.” She said, shooting him a smile and gripping his hands now that she was finished. She stood on her tiptoes, placing her lips just beside his ear to whisper, “win this match and there’s a prize for you underneath this dress.”

He sighed, gripping her waist before looking over her shoulder to make sure the boys were still paying them no mind, “I don’t know if that’s the best motivation or the worst distraction.”

“Better turn it into motivation, Miller.” She said with a smirk, turning to take a seat next to Frankie and steal her beer back, who moved his hands out of her grasp with a scowl.

“You steal my beer and you’re gonna give me that look, pendejo? Dáselo,” she said firmly, grinning smugly when he finally surrendered.

“Ready for your first fight night?” Will asked, clapping his hands down on her shoulders and rubbing them for a moment before offering a hand to help her up.

“Born ready,” she followed them all out into the hallway waiting behind the door for Benny’s cue. She hung back beside Santi, not wanting to be in the way as she could tell he was mentally preparing and getting in the mindset. He looked behind him for a moment, making sure she was still there and she cocked her head slightly, wondering what gears were turning in his head. He took a step towards her and grabbed her roughly, pulling her in and capturing her in a dizzying kiss. He pulled away and she couldn’t tell if the hunger in his eyes was for her or for the fight… probably a little bit of both.

“I intend to get that prize.” He said as the announcer read out his stats and walked through the gym with confidence as his music played. They followed behind and took their spots at the front, Y/N positioning herself right in the center as promised.

“Not your boy, huh?” Santi said, grinning cheekily at her.

“Jealous, Santi?”

“Only a little,” he teased and she shoved his shoulder, returning her focus to Benny as the fight began. She watched with rapt attention, cheering when he got a good hit in, wincing when he took one. Each round was over as quickly as it began and as the bell rang for the final round he shot her a wink before quickly going on offense and ending the fight with a deadly jab. The ref held his hand up in victory and they all cheered Benny on, their own voices drowning out the rest of the crowd. They made their way back to the locker room, waiting for their champion to return.

“One hell of a fight, Benny,” Will said proudly, “gotta get Y/N out here more if it means you fight like that.”

“Well, had something to fight for.” He kissed her again with the same intensity as before and she giggled as she pulled away, wiping his blood from her lips.

“Not that I don’t wanna kiss you but we gotta get you cleaned up, can’t necessarily say I have a blood kink, Miller.” The boys sensed it was time to take their leave, muttering something about meeting them at the bar before exiting. She rooted around his bag and found a towel, sitting him down on a bench before going to the sink to run warm water over it. She stood in between his legs, gently dabbing away the blood from his features.

His hands rested on her hips as she worked, “gotta say this is much better than Will cleaning me up after a fight.”

She laughed, “well, I’d hope so.”

“I’m sorry if the kiss earlier seemed rushed… sometimes the adrenaline takes over during these things-”

“Why are you apologizing? That was one hell of a first kiss,” she kissed his forehead and scanned his face, making sure she’d cleaned away any trace of blood. “How are you feeling, anything hurt?”

“Nothing more than normal.”

She squinted her eyes, “you sure? That hit to your ribs looked pretty brutal,” she crouched down to look, fingers gently probing the area with a serious look.

“You a doctor and not tell me?” He asked, smiling as he watched her tend to him with such care.

“Santi never told you? I was in med school, dropped out to join the army and was a medic for about half my military career.”

“Why’d you drop out? Doctor is a hell of a lot more cushy than what we do,” he said with a chuckle.

“Turns out I hate school, plus life’s more exciting this way. Means I get to meet cute boxers and play nurse on my Friday nights.” He winced when she reached a tender spot and she stood, “definitely bruised, we’ll ice them when we get home. Ready to head out?”

“Mmm, not yet.” He pulled her down to sit in his lap, kissing her softly. Still amped on adrenaline his desire grew and he stood up, pushing her against the lockers behind them. She moaned into the kiss when he slotted his thigh between her legs and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth. He kissed down her neck and looked at her with a glint in his eye, “now what about this prize I was promised?” She flushed as her fingers found the tie of her wrap dress, undoing it slowly and letting the dress fall on either side of her revealing a black lacy set that made Benny groan. He noticed a folded up flash card tucked beneath the fabric and looked at her inquisitively as she pulled it out.

“You said no sign, but I couldn’t resist…” She unfolded it and held it up for him, the small piece of paper decorated in a fuck ton of glitter, as she’d suggested, with bold black lettering that read ‘Sweep the leg, Benny’, and he let out a loud laugh.

“Is that a Karate Kid reference?” He carefully took the mini sign and looked at it as if she’d just handed him the holy grail.

“I didn’t want to write something boring like ‘go Benny’ and it seemed funny.”

“It’s perfect, I love it.” He said, going to his duffle bag to pull out his wallet and slide it in. She moved to tie her dress and he shot her a look that could kill, “and what do you think you’re doing?” She closed the distance as she knotted it into a perfect bow before giving him a quick kiss.

“Our friends are waiting for us, wouldn’t want them to think we’re desecrating this high school locker room.” She said, reaching in and pulling his normal clothes out for him to change into.

“They’ll think we did that anyways.” He pulled her back in and his hands trailed down her waist before disappearing under her dress and gripping at the flesh of her thigh.

“Nuh uh, not having sex with you for the first time in a place I’d be willing to bet 13 year olds jack off. Get dressed, I’ll be in the hall.” She kissed him again before leaning against the wall just outside the door, smiling to herself as her fingers touched her lips. She was in shock at how the past 24 hours for her had gone, she’d had no idea when she agreed to go out with Santi’s friends she’d end up here… starting something with a man she wished she’d met sooner.

He came out faster than she anticipated, lacing his fingers through hers as they went out the back door and into the parking lot. He stopped for a moment and looked at her, “shit did you drive? I came with Will.”

She laughed, “yeah, I’m over here.” Ever the gentleman he insisted on taking her keys and driving, after helping her in the passenger side. “You know, I am capable of driving my own car,” she teased as he backed out of the spot.

“Yeah well, you’re too pretty to drive when I’m around.” Her cheeks flushed and she rested her hand on top of his, which had found a home on her thigh. “Seriously, thank you for coming… Felt different having you here tonight, a good different.”

“I’ll cheer you on any night of the week,” she said, giving him a smile before he leaned over to kiss her at a red light. They pulled into the bar parking lot, same one they’d been at last night and she guessed this was their regular spot. They walked in to find them all already at the same booth, cheering as Benny walked in.

“There he is! We were getting worried you weren’t gonna show,” Frankie said, welcoming him and pouring them both beers from the pitcher sitting in the middle of the table.

“Almost didn’t but this one insisted we not keep you waiting.” He said, letting her slide into the booth before squeezing in next to her.

“Not 24 hours and you’re already trying to ditch us for her,” Will said, feigning hurt.

“I’d never allow it,” she said, taking a sip of her beer.

“See, she cares about us, Benny. Be nice if you did the same,” Frankie teased.

“Shut up, bunch of fuckin’ softies,” he responded, taking a swig of his beer. The boys began recounting the fight, Benny exaggeratedly giving a play-by-play from inside the ring when Santi tapped Y/N’s thigh to grab her attention.

“Headed down to Colombia tomorrow,” he said lowly, trying not to grab the attention of the others.

“Something happen?” She asked, concern already overtaking her mind.

“Nothing major, one of our guys got apprehended not realizing who they were apprehending, gotta go down and smooth it out. You know how crass some of them can be, no mind for the politics of it all.”

“You need me?” He was shaking his head before he even finished and Benny had tuned into the conversation making the rest of them follow suit.

“Should be fine, you’re still on leave anyways.” He said nonchalantly, sipping his beer.

“So are you.”

“It’ll be quick in and out, such a short flight I’ll probably be back tomorrow night.”

“Exactly, sure you don’t need me?”

“You guys leavin’ already?” Frankie asked, not even attempting to hide his sadness. Not so much at Santi, more so Y/N. She’d just started hanging with the guys and they were already used to her company. They’re well accustomed to the coming and going with everything they had going on but it didn’t make it fun to deal with.

“I am, she’s not. I’ll be back by tomorrow night, Sunday afternoon at the latest.”

“Fine, but keep me posted, I can be on a flight down as soon as possible.”

“Ay ay, captain.” After a few more rounds the boys started to announce their leave, starting with Frankie who muttered something about needing to get home to the baby. He was only allowed to leave after promising to send photos to Y/N. Benny, Santi and Y/N filed out last, going their separate ways after hugs goodbye and Benny seemed a little off on the drive home.

“Everything okay over there?” She asked, reaching over to put a hand on his knee.

“Yeah just… kinda realized we have a timer with you going back eventually.”

She shook her head, “I’m not supposed to be going back for at least a few months. With how things have been going, I might not be going back at all… Even Santi doesn’t need to be there all the time, he’s pretty much got it handled on his own.”

He nodded, “I know this is literally just starting, it just feels different. Kinda got scared about losing you when I just got you,” he admitted.

“Even if I went back you wouldn’t lose me. It’s a quick, cheap flight down. But don’t get yourself worked up about things that haven’t happened yet. We’ll deal with it if the time comes,” she gripped his free hand and brought it to her lips before settling it in her lap.

“You’re right,” he said, pulling into his driveway. The second they were inside the house his hands were on her, pinning her against the door and capturing her lips in a kiss, “took every ounce of restraint to keep my hands to myself at the bar,” he muttered as he kissed down her neck. He tugged her gently, slowly moving down the hall, catching her with a chuckle as she tripped trying to get her shoes off while still walking. They bumped into damn near everything they could, leaving a wake of Benny’s clothes as they went. He backed her up to the bed, roughly undoing her dress and pushing the fabric off her shoulders before she fell backwards onto the mattress, hooking her legs around him and pulling him with her.

“Can’t believe you fuckin’ wore this to my fight,” he mumbled as he kissed down her chest, fingers reaching behind her to undo the clasp, “whole time I was just thinking about this.”

“Served you well,” she said, gasping as his teeth nipped at the sensitive bud, “fought so well tonight.” He continued to kiss down her body, sucking marks into the flesh as he did. He slid off the bed and knelt before her, gripping her legs and tugging her down closer. He looped his thumbs through the waistband of her underwear, eyes meeting hers looking for approval before she nodded. He slid them down and groaned at the sight, pushing her legs open to take her in.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he said mostly to himself, eyes raking over her figure and she suddenly felt sheepish under his gaze, legs beginning to close on instinct but he stopped her with a shake of his head, fingers gripping into her thighs before he buried himself in her, licking long teasing stripes up her center, desperate to taste her. A soft sigh fell from her lips as she relaxed onto the mattress, fingers lacing through his hair. His tongue lapped at her clit with expert precision, catching her off guard as a loud moan fell from her lips, the sound sending shockwaves straight to Benny’s cock. He groaned against her, sucking on the sensitive bud as he teased her entrance with his finger, slowly sliding inside. He worked her open, adding a second finger and increasing his speed, curling his fingers just enough to brush against her spot. She writhed beneath him, hips bucking as she silently pleaded for him to stop teasing but instead his free hand pressed her hips down into the mattress, keeping her still as he continued to take his time.

“Fucking hell, Benny,” she whined and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Relax, I’ve got you,” he returned his tongue to her clit, her body jolting at the return. The moans falling from her lips were driving him crazy and he lifted his hand from her hips to free himself of his boxers, lazily stroking his length to relieve some of the pressure. He stretched her out with a third digit and finally gave her what she’d been wanting, fingers curling and thrusting against that sweet spot until he felt her legs begin to shake.

“Fuck Benny, yes,” she whispered through breathy moans and he kept up his ministrations, groaning as he felt her walls flutter against his fingers. She tugged at his hair, mind going fuzzy as she felt that coil within her begin to tighten, her breathing growing more erratic as she struggled to get oxygen around her moans. She went silent for a moment, legs clamping around Benny’s head before he quickly pushed them back open, continuing his assault on her senses and she fell apart above him. He worked her through her climax, pumping in and out of her lazily as he moved on top of her, only pulling them out to slip them into her mouth where she eagerly sucked the remnants of her orgasm from his fingers.

“So beautiful,” he muttered as he pulled them out with a pop, hungrily kissing her while her hand reached between them to find his cock. He groaned into the kiss when her fingers wrapped around him, pumping him as she guided him to her entrance. She wrapped her legs around him, gasping as he sank into her, filling her to the brim. He pulled his lips from hers, brushing the hair from her face as he gave her a moment to adjust. She reached up to cup his jaw, her thumb running over his bottom lip as they stared into each other's eyes. He began to move slowly, and her eyes watered from the sting of the stretch.

“You okay?” He asked softly, wiping the wetness as he stopped moving, scanning her eyes for any hesitation and she nodded.

“Not used to - little bigger than anticipated,” his concern was replaced with a shit eating grin, resuming his gentle thrusts.

“Better get used to it babe,” he said pressing his forehead against hers. He took his time, making sure she was fully comfortable before increasing his speed when she nodded against him. She gripped at his biceps, gasping as he pulled out almost completely before quickly filling her up. She writhed beneath him, and she could tell he was still holding back a little.

“Good now Benny, don’t have to be so gentle with me.” She said, moving one hand up to grip at the hair at the base of his head. “C’mon, where’s that fight from tonight?” She challenged, and he smirked as he threw one leg over his shoulder and rutting into her. Her head dipped back as she moaned, pleasure coursing through her veins. She whimpered as he pulled out of her suddenly, grabbing her hips and flipping her over. She arched back, desperate to feel him inside her again and he chuckled darkly, watching her arousal drip down her legs.

“Pretty little pussy,” he said, fingers circling her clit as she let out a loud moan, “so needy for me.”

“Please Benny,” she whined, hips pushing back as she clenched around nothing. He teased her entrance with her fingers only briefly before returning to her clit, free hand coming down to slap her ass.

“Want me to be rough with you?” It was more of a statement but he was looking for verbal confirmation, not wanting to push her too far.

“Please Benny, fuck me,” she whined again, and he swore she’d do anything she ever asked if she said it like that. He pushed himself back inside her, groaning as she clenched around him as his fingers dug in and gripped her ass. He raked his fingers through her hair, gripping at the base and pulling her head back as she gasped, not being able to control the moans leaving her lips as he fucked into her. Her mind went blank, the only thought in her head being Benny’s name as his hand collided with her backside again, the burning sting making her groan as she pushed back against him.

“So fucking good for me,” he muttered, hand coming down again before gripping the flesh. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and their moans and Benny knew he wouldn’t last if she kept up those heavenly sounds. He pulled out of her, burying his face in her as he lapped up her juices, sucking her clit into his mouth and flicking his tongue against it, fingers roughly working their way inside and focusing on her spot.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she moaned, gripping the sheets beside her as her second orgasm hit her like a freight train, white hot pleasure surging through her as his name fell from her lips like a prayer. He pushed her hips down into the bed, sliding back into her as his full weight pinned her beneath him. His hand snaked around her, wrapping around her throat and pulling her up just enough to kiss her, groaning into her mouth as she clenched around him.

“God, you’re incredible,” kissing her cheek and she melted under his praise, moaning as his hips snapped into her. “Taking me so well, gonna make me fill you up with my cum.”

“Please Benny, cum for me,” she begged, wanting to feel his release coat her walls.

He tutted, “not yet.” His hand left her throat, moving underneath her and circling her clit. She jolted beneath him, the stimulation overwhelming her senses. He fucked into her roughly, matching the pressure he applied to the sensitive nub and she whimpered beneath him, her hand flying back to grip his thighs. He groaned as her fingernails dug into his flesh as she tried desperately to do anything to ground herself in this moment, another wave of pleasure sending shockwaves through her body.

“Benny,” she whispered, head draping back against his shoulder as she felt the coil begin to tighten.

“One more for me baby, I got you.” He grunted as he let his head fall, staving off his own release, twitching inside her as her moans became desperate.

“Fuck,” she whimpered, “Benny I-” her eyes screwed shut as she went silent, body tensing as she began to come undone.

“So fucking pretty when you cum for me,” he groaned, his pace stuttering as throaty moans fell from her lips.

“Fuck, Benny, yes-” she all but cried writhing beneath him, falling over the edge as he groaned praise into her ear. Clenching around him like a vice grip he emptied himself into her, panting as his thrusts slowed, body relaxing against hers before rolling off and pulling her into his side. Her frame was still shaking against him, reeling from the aftershocks as she came down, Benny soothingly rubbing her arms.

“Still with me, baby?” He asked, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead, a stark contrast to his touches only moments before. She nodded against him, her breathing beginning to stabilize as she craned up to look at him, silently asking for a kiss that he immediately obliged. “Stay put, gonna clean you up.” She sighed at the loss of contact but he returned quickly, damp towel in his hand that he used to tenderly wipe the beads of sweat from her forehead before cleaning the mess of their juices between her thighs. He pulled her up gingerly, ignoring her whines as he kissed her forehead. “Go to the bathroom, I’ll get some water.”

She did as she was told, thankful for the reminder and thankful he was already back in bed when she returned, “you really are a prince among men, Miller.” She said gratefully accepting the glass before polishing it off in one sitting. He pulled it from her hands to set on the nightstand before tugging her down, his long arms enveloping her and holding her against him, attacking every inch of her face with kisses as she giggled.

“And you really are incredible.” He gently pushed her onto her side, molding his body against hers as he pulled the blanket on top of them.

“Good thing I don’t have plans tomorrow, pretty sure you’ll have to carry me out of here on a stretcher,” she said with a breathy laugh as sleep began to tug at her mind.

“Oh, you have plans tomorrow sweetheart.” She hummed, her way of asking without using words, “I’m not finished with you yet.” He whispered, placing a kiss to her shoulder as she drifted off…

#benny miller x reader #benny miller x you #benny miller x y/n #benny miller x female reader #benny miller fanfiction #benny miller fluff #benny miller smut #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #triple frontier #triple frontier ff #triple frontier smut #santiago pope garcia #frankie morales #will miller #starlawrites #guardian #bbbbbb

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pwarkluv · 3 years

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❝ idk you yet ❞ - p.js

park jisung x reader | angsty, fluff | 1.6k words

WARNINGS | TW: mentions blood, abuse, drug and alcohol abuse, smoking, lowercase au, non-idol au, high school au, badboy!jisung, mature language/cursing, reader is like an angel sent from heaven for him, jisungie just in need of love :(

SUMMARY | being an outcast has him wondering if he’ll ever be happy. cue you, the new girl, stumbling into his life (literally).

AUTHOR’S NOTE | inspired by the song “idk you yet” by alexander23! also AHHH this is my 100 followers special fic :) THANK U LOVES FOR 100 IM SO SHOCKED CJSBFKEJD <33 the writing is a little crappy because i’m currently on my period and my patience for sitting down and writing this went down halfway through lol but I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, ENJOY THIS JISUNG FIC BC JISUNG MY BABIE AND SO ARE YOU GUYS!

whenever anybody thinks of park jisung, they think of the chains and dark clothing he wears. they think about the faint smell of smoke and men’s cologne that follows him wherever he goes.

they think of the boy who grew up on the wrong side of the tracks.

but what they don’t think about are bruises on his face he fails to hide whenever he walks into school, the dejected look on his face whenever random people give him disapproving looks, the way his smile slowly faded into a permanent frown wherever he went.

jisung quickly accepted his reputation at school and in their little town, not having enough energy to feel insecure about it like before.

the only group of people that even remotely cared about the boy were his best friends in the whole entire world, nct dream.

they were outcasts just like him, the most “fucked up group of boys” in their town (the people’s words, not theirs).

see, they were your typical bad boy group straight out of your typical fanfic. bad grades, smoking in their free time, getting into fights, always being late to class; not a single person had hope in them.

but behind their scary and intimidating facade, all seven boys were big softies with misunderstood hearts and difficult backgrounds.

people were just too dense to look into it, only judging them based on their looks and personality on the outside.

❝ how can you miss someone you’ve never met ❞

love was a foreign thing to jisung, the only form of love he’s ever felt being from his friends. his parents were… interesting to say the least.

jisung’s father was a hard-core alcoholic, his mother being a major druggie. with no siblings in the house, jisung was usually their main target to push around and beat up.

and so because of this at a young age jisung learned to distance himself from other people and found different ways to release stress.

he started smoking when he was 14, the warm and hazy feeling of the smoke entering his lungs comforting him.

if jisung humored himself enough, maybe smoking could count as his first love. it was always there for him, never leaving him alone even if he wanted to quit.

he relied on it knowing it was the only constant in his life.

now of course the boy has heard of proper love, love like in the movies or shitty romance songs he hears on the radio.

and he won’t lie, there were moments he thought about what it felt like to be in love. but he knew that would never happen, at least not in their small town anyways.

he just wanted to be loved.

jisung would never admit it but sometimes he’d be jealous of the old couples walking down the street in their own world like it was just them two against the universe. he was jealous of the happy kids running around, their mother’s and father’s fondly smiling at their child. he was jealous of all the “normal” kids in his neighborhood.

jisung wanted that, craved that.

but most importantly, the boy wanted love.

❝ cause i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞

everything hurt.

his head, his body, his mind, his heart; everything was in pain.

jisung walked down the empty streets of their city, a trail of blood following behind him as he accepted his fate. the boy was 99% sure he had a concussion and at the very least had a few broken ribs.

he felt like this was the end, and he was ready.

wandering aimlessly around town, you decided to take a late night walk to familiarize yourself around the area. you had just moved into the city a week ago, spending all seven days trying to help your family unpack and rearrange your cozy new home.

now that you were finally free of the smell of tape and the dust of the boxes, you decided it was best to get to know the place you were living in.

the autumn air seemed to settle at night as you shivered, cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket of some sort. the sight of a convenience store up ahead of you brought you relief as you rummaged through your pockets wondering if you had enough money for ramen.

your steps became excited as you found a couple dollars, fondly thinking about what type of ramen you should buy. you became so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even notice the poor boy who was staggering in front of you, or the trail of blood he left behind.

jisung pushed himself to reach the convenience store a couple feet away from him, in desperate need of supplies to at least try and fix himself.

if it didn’t help in any way then oh well, maybe death was indeed an option.

grinding his teeth though the pain, he did not expect to feel a small body bump into him. had he been at his regular health, jisung would’ve easily been able to keep still but because of how much blood he was losing the boy was knocked down like a bowling pin.

“holy fuck.” jisung cursed the feeling of the concrete floor colliding with his ribs. he didn’t even notice the girl who had bumped into him sitting on the floor dumbfounded, freaking out over his state.

“oh my fucking god.” the girl said, capturing his attention. jisung glared at the stranger, mentally acknowledging the fact she was pretty.

but her being pretty won’t get you anywhere, he scolded himself. she’ll leave you just like everyone else.

“a-are you okay?” she said, eyes glancing at his black eye. jisung rolled his eyes, already annoyed. “does it look like i’m okay?” he replied, his deep voice catching the girl off guard.

“just, fuck off.” jisung said closing his eyes as he laid back down on the floor, knowing he couldn’t force himself to get up anymore. he didn’t even have to open his eyes to know she left, hearing the sound of her footsteps walk away.

the boy sighed as he laid idly on the floor, wondering what sin he committed to lead him to where he is now. not even she wanted to stay, the tears threatening to fall as his thoughts buried him alive.

“why can’t i just die?” jisung said out loud, asking no one but himself.

“because i won’t let you.” a voice replied as jisung forced himself to sit up in confusion. it was the same girl he had bumped into, but this time she had a first aid kit with her. he gave her a lost look despite knowing what she was here to do.

jisung’s mind just couldn’t wrap around the fact that a total stranger would even bother to help him.

“now sit up.” she said softly as she bent down to open the box, the boy slowly followed her instructions. “i’m sorry this might sting.” she said though jisung didn’t mind because she was much prettier up close.

the next ten minutes were you trying to fix his wounds against the shitty chairs outside the convenience store.

jisung didn’t even bother mentioning his broken ribs, not wanting you to freak out. you cleaned up what you could and the boy was beyond grateful for that.

you subconsciously rubbed his back in a comforting way whenever you’d apply alcohol to his open wounds, trying to ease the sting. you held his hand for him to hold and though he was a big boy and had a high pain tolerance, he still gave it a squeeze just to keep your hand there. what the actual fuck is this feeling, jisung asked himself as he watched your determined figure work on him.

it was cold and in order to better work on his wounds, the boy offered to give you his hoodie which strangely had no traces of blood on it. you gladly accepted, the faint smell of blood and his cologne engulfing you up.

the sight of you in something so big and so him made his chest swell in pride.

jisung couldn’t even formulate a sentence as you cursed at the time once you finished patching him up, fleeing the scene before he could say anything with a small smile, his hoodie still on.

❝ and can you find me soon because i’m in my head ❞

the thought of your soft hands on his, your voice, your whole presence; everything about you couldn’t seem to leave the poor boy’s mind. it was now monday, and waiting for his class to start already made him want to go home.

if only i got her name, jisung daydreamed with his head resting on the palm of his hand. the classroom was loud and bright, people occasionally giving him looks but the boy didn’t mind.

“jisungie~ did you hear we have a new kid?” jaemin asked, poking the boy’s cheeks. the boy only gave him a pointed look before sighing.

“hyung i don’t really care.” jisung replied, looking back out the window.

jaemin only gave him an offended look before grumbling a bit. “i don’t know maybe you will.” he muttered under his breath as their teacher walked into the room.

❝ yeah i need you now but i don’t know you yet ❞

their homeroom teacher stood in front of the class, jisung tuning out his voice. the boy once again sighed as his teacher called for their attention, explaining they had a new girl in their class. “now make her feel welcomed,” he said before turning towards the door.

“y/n, please come in.” the teacher said and jisung almost fell out of his seat when he saw you walking through the door with the same smile you gave him a couple days ago.

“hi i’m y/n and i hope we can get along.” you bowed to the class, a familiar hoodie you were wearing catching his attention.

isn’t that mine, jisung thought to himself as he bit back a smile knowing you kept it all along.

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bigilante · 3 years

Text

〖 her best friend ❣ zendaya 〗

「 zendaya x gender-neutral!reader 」 ┅ 「 2.7k words 」

: a.n : back at it again with the unsolicited fics :)) i hope you guys like it 👉🏼👈🏼

⤷ : prompt : separated forcefully or for reasons you can’t control, run into each other again years later on accident.

“Do you think they’ll ever stop making headlines calling us ‘very good friends’?” You halfheartedly laughed at yet another Instagram post by some magazine that showed you and Zendaya out and about LA. “Like, the minute you hang out with any guy they’re like, ‘Oh! Date alert!’ But I’m just your ‘best friend’” You were ranting now, unable to hide the annoyance you felt.

“Why does it matter what they say?” Zendaya quizzed, her hands playing with the waist string of your sweats. She looked up at you from her slumped down position on the sofa, her faint frown making you sigh.

“Because... don’t you feel is a bit homophobic?” You wondered, placing your phone face down on top of your stomach to give her your full attention. The brunette just shrugged nonchalantly and you let out another sigh picking your phone again to close the app, “I’m gonna head out.” It was best to just leave then, you didn’t want to get in a stupid argument with her not before you were set to leave for New York the very next morning. You began to incorporate but Zendaya’s hands gripped your thighs keeping them draped over hers.

“Y/n, come on.” She said, gorgeous hazel eyes pleading at you. What exactly? You had no idea but for a second, you were about to give in however a loud ding coming from your phone stopped you. Your eyes scanned the screen and the reminder that had popped up read ‘PACK ! 4 ! N Y C !’, you sent her an apologetic glance before getting off the sofa, gathering your stuff and petting Noon goodbye.

Zendaya had stood up from the sofa too, watching your every move intently, probably trying to figure out if you were upset with her. The truth was, you didn’t know if you were upset with her or with the media, it was possible that both had a little part in your now sour mood. “See you next week, best friend. Love you.” You joked before swinging the front door open and leaving. The week was going to feel like a month, you knew, but the hope that making that simple joke followed by the declaration would ease things up was strong.

But what did hopefulness ever bring if not disappointment and heartache?

Seeing medium-quality paparazzi pictures of your girlfriend as soon as you landed from a five-hour flight wasn’t exactly the way you wanted to be welcomed to New York. You sat quietly in the back of an Uber trying not to cry as your eyes stared at the images on your phone. A series of pictures of Zendaya and Tom leaving her house, —they must had been taken that morning while you were on your way to the airport— the further you scrolled down the Twitter trends the more you felt like throwing up. Them in his car. Tom’s hand reaching for Zendaya’s jaw. Both leaning in. Kissing. Laughing.

It felt like a punch to the face, it was the worst feeling you had ever endured and the people that caused it were the last you would’ve thought could ever dare to hurt you. Your trembling hands fumbled with the settings on your account, privating it and blocking her and Tom, doing the same with Instagram followed by their numbers on your phone. It felt like doing a cleansing, the pressure in your chest easing only minimally when you locked your phone and looked out into the running city. You wanted to scream and cry, break stuff, throw your phone away and not show to work, you just wanted to go hide in your Airbnb for the rest of the week and pretend you and Zendaya never happened.

The reality was that you two had happened and it was far too hard to pretend it didn’t, your heart ached both physically and metaphorically and you hated every second of it. For that week you spent in New York no one shut up about the photos, every person you worked with had that hot, brand new ‘goss’ about the pair that had hurt you so badly.

You sat in the quiet living room of the apartment you had been living in whilst in the big city, laptop sitting in front of you as you cancelled your flight back to LA, changing the tab to the Airbnb’s one to pay for a few more days. You had been holding yourself together the whole time you were there, work keeping you busy and sleeping pills doing their magic at the end of the day but it could only go so far. Glassy, stinging eyes stared blankly at the empty inbox of your email, the cursed images projecting over the blank space and you just weren’t strong enough anymore, you couldn’t, so you cried and choked and screamed until your throat and eyes were sore; until your whole body was drained of every bit of energy.

Little by little you were sweeping your life clean of her, clearing out your phone’s camera roll, changing your number. Deleting social media was a big no for your job so filtering everything and anything that had to do with them was the only option, that and spending little to no time online. You had stopped to think one night of the what-ifs of the situation, you were aware that Zendaya’s publicist wasn’t so happy about you and her dating publically and Tom’s was obsessed with boosting the Spider-man movies at all cost, still, giving you a heads up about it would had been the right thing to do.

For a year and a half, you made yourself busy, going back and forth wasn’t something you enjoyed but it worked to avoid unwanted visits and accidental encounters. Enough time had passed, you thought as you stopped booking in so many clients across the country and settled back in your LA home. “You know what? I could go for a thick, sugary milkshake, right now.” Naomi told you as you put down your half-empty box of fried noodles on the coffee table.

“Are you serious?” You asked incredulous receiving an enthusiastic nod from your friend. “Naomi, we just had Chinese and you wanna wash it down with a milkshake?” She rolled her eyes at you when you pointed it out.

“Fine, what about Bubble U? Bubble tea is Chinese isn’t it?” She offered, her question prompting you to send her an unamused glare. “Yep, Bubble U it is, then!” Naomi jumped up, going straight to the door. Reluctantly you got up from the floor, groaning all the way to the door where you got ready to go out, “Come on! It’ll be fun!” She chirped while she pulled you out of the house. You hated to admit it but you had completely modified your life after the heartbreak, once you settled back home you barely left it, you didn’t attend parties unless it was for work or go out with your friends unless it was at any of their houses. You didn’t walk around the city that often anymore in fear of bumping into her.

“I miss this.” You sighed as you walked down Chinatown with your friend, the coldness of your drink pleasant against the palm of your hand. “Just walking around town.” You continued taking a sip of the milk tea.

“I still don’t get why you had to stop going out with us.” Naomi said inciting you to turn to look at her, “I mean, I know why it’s just… you didn’t have to stop.” She rephrased it giving you an apologetic glance. You knew how much your friends hated the idea of you not being able to be you after the whole thing with Zendaya and Tom happened but it was your way of coping with it and even though they didn’t agree with it, they supported you.

“Well, I’m outside now, aren’t I?” You nudged her side with your elbow making her giggle as she nudged you back. “Maybe this is me getting back to my old self.” Hope laced your every word as you looked around the busy street. The way the golden light of the setting sun washed over the buildings made the outing worth the risk.

LA was the second-largest city in the United States, with a population of nearly four million that one could think the chances of crossing paths with a lover-turned-stranger was one in millions, yet, there you were rooted to the pavement as your wide eyes stared at the tall and thin figure coming out of one of the many restaurants that dotted the street. “Come on, let’s go back.” Naomi said, placing her hand on the crook of your elbow ready to pull you out of there but something inside your chest told you to keep moving forward.

So you did, you started walking again letting your friend’s hand slip away from you. She was quick to follow, whisper-shouting at you that whatever you were doing probably wasn’t the best idea. The closer you got to her the more nervous you felt, it’s been over a year since you last saw her and god, was she even more beautiful than before; long legs clagged in camel coloured trousers, feet sporting her beloved black converse. Her top was white, a little see-through and you cursed at how much it still drove you absolutely crazy in the most irritating sense.

Curls tucked into an elastic on top of her head in a carefree and relaxed way, a few stubborn strands hanging out framing her face and gracing her neck. She was laughing loudly at something Darnell said, that laugh you had forced yourself to forget but the second it hit your ears, you realised how badly you had missed it. Then everything stopped, Naomi’s panicked telling off, Darnell’s chatting and Zendaya’s laughing. It all had stopped but the rambling around the four of you.

You stood in front of Darnell while Naomi stood in front of Zendaya, your friend’s usually amicable attitude disrupted by the scowl on her face as she glared Zendaya’s way only the brunette’s pupils were set on you with no apparent intention of averting. “It’s you,” She breathed out, hope barely perceivable in her tone. You only hummed at the observation, your eyes moving from hers down to her hands that were gripping the long lanyard that held her phone around her neck. Her nerves were evident then, the intensity with which she clutched it seemed to be draining the blood flow from her fingers. “I— How—” Zendaya tried to speak but failed, letting out a shaky breath. “How have you been?”

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Naomi protested, you understood where your friend was coming from but you also needed that, you needed to speak to Zendaya just one more time to be able to finally let everything go. You needed her to confirm your theory just so you could move on and Darnell seemed to be on the same page as you for he stepped in between you and Naomi, throwing his arm around her shoulders to guide her away from you two. You heard her object some more but ultimately she complied and walked away.

“I’ve been fine. You?” You eventually spoke after short but agonising seconds of silence.

“I don’t know. There are good days among the terrible ones, so... fine, I guess?” She shrugged a shoulder. With a nod of your head, you looked past her over her shoulder to see a man pointing a camera at you, you were about to warn her when she began speaking again. “Y/n, I’m so sorry about—” Zendaya started but you shook your head no making her stop, you realised then that you did want to talk to her but not on the street in front of that many people and certainly not when there were paparazzi nearby.

“Heard the movie did well.” Your tongue betrayed your brain. Zendaya tried to speak once more but you cut her again. “I’m glad it did. Made it all worth it, didn’t it?” You faked a small smile nearly choking on the words, the anxious lump in your throat threatening to cut your airflow.

“No, It didn’t.” Zendaya denied taking a step closer to you forcing you to hold your breath with the sudden move. “I was a total asshole to you before you left, then Marla wanted me and Tom to do that for a while and I don’t even know why I did it.” She ranted in one breath.

“I upset you.” The statement earned you a furious head shake from the tall girl. “I did. I kept bugging you about the articles,” You carried on, inconspicuously your eyes started to line with tears. The more you talked the more you realised that maybe, just maybe there was a bit of blame in you too, however, that didn’t mean Zendaya was absolved from any. “You never said a thing to me about the stunt.”

“I felt like I didn’t need to, I wasn’t gonna do it.”

“But you did. The morning I left LA.” You mumbled, trying to hide from the second man with a camera that had appeared closer than the first.

“Fuck, I know it was a shitty thing to do and I’m sorry,” She took another small step forward.

“You always told me kissing in public wasn’t your thing.” You exposed, tears irrevocably breaking the surface tension and cascading down your cheeks. Flicking your gaze up at her you saw nothing but hurt and regret written all over her gorgeous face and your heart squeezed at the sight. She had never spoken about it and neither had you asked, you just felt it in your heart that she was scared of how the media would treat you both if they ever found out you were dating, you knew the times had changed but there were still closed-minded people that ran gossip magazines and could make your lives a living hell the moment they caught you holding hands in public or worst, kissing.

The murmuring around you increased, reminding you that you were in a very public place crying in front of your secret ex-girlfriend. “Fuck that.” Zendaya grumbled. One moment she was a small step away from you and the next her hands were cupping your face and her lips were softly pressed against yours. The action took your breath away instantly, still, you found yourself powerless against the familiar taste and feel of her and allowed her to kiss you as long as she wanted to in front of how many people she wanted to. There were yelps and gasps all around the two of you and you started to regain conscience and pulled away.

Wide, watery eyes staring up at the girl mere inches away from your face. “Th-there’s pap—”

“I don’t care.” She whispered before she captured your lips once more, this time deeper and twice as intensely as the first time. Your hands scurried to her waist, bringing her flush to your body as you kissed her back gladly, desperately wanting her lips to make the past year bleep out of your core memories.

The night went by slowly as if the universe was granting you more time to spend in the arms of the girl you loved. She never once let a second of silence go by you, filling it with a whispered apology and a kiss. You talked about everything the time you spent apart brought to both of you, she told you about firing her publicist right after the pictures came out, about how she understood why you had cut her off without any explanation and how bad both her and Tom felt with the whole thing.

Articles flooded the internet that very night as well as the next morning, however, neither of you knew of them right away for any device that could be hooked to a WiFi signal was rightfully turned off while you basked in the presence of each other under the covers of Zendaya’s bed.

“Spider-man Star Zendaya shares intense kiss with BFF, Celeb Stylist y/n l/n in the middle of Chinatown! Swipe to see the pictures!”

It might be 2021 but some things refused to change.

【 thank you so much for reading! ♡ please, consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought of this ♡ kit xx 】

#zendaya x reader #zendaya x you #zendaya imagine #zendaya fanfic #wlw fanfic #softfics #angst to fluff #gender neutral reader

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lavenderwhore444 · 3 years

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Ok so we all love pervert shigaraki ( Ik u do so please don’t lie to ur self love 😀) anyways what if shigaraki had a huge crush on the reader and steals there panties ( when there out in a mission working there ass off) but the reader notices and placed cameras in her room just to see who’s stealing them surprise surprise it’s ya boy shiggy and the reader finds it kind of cute that he’s that desperate but is also upsetting because there working and he’s here getting off on her stuff so.the reader catch’s him in the act and shows him the videos ( shigaraki at this point is crying from embarrassment and he’s begging for the reader to delete the videos) as a punishment the reader pegs the shit out of him and the ending is fluff since I do love shiggy

First of all English isn’t my first language so apologizes for any mistakes and for the ending please work ur magic sis

💍🧎🏻‍♀️marry me this is so good

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If you want to use interactive fics, it's easy and makes reading fics SO much better. First, you download the Google Chrome extension. You'll see it in the top right corner of your screen. Next, you enter your name in the first box. If you want to change something other than y/n, please click on the text that says “want to change something other than y/n?” here, you can change any word you want to a different word. When I talk about your quirk I will use y/q

Warnings: smut (obvi) shigaraki is a perv degradation a little I think #peg shiggy 2021 fingering for Shig 😌 humiliation??? Idk what to put man request says it all

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🌸 I have an irl on here rn because we both simp for crusty men, and she’s probably lowkey scared of me. I was drunk on having social interaction for the first time forever and was like, “omg, I write for them. I have Tumblr 🤪” Listen, I told you I would do anything for him, and I fucking meant it, ok? And he’s a little pervert, so they're kinda gross (indirectly making me have gross kinks too ig ☹️) Plus, I warned you about his piss kink, that should've been a good indicator to the rest of these 🙄 , Anyways anon has sent me THE BEST SCENARIOS OMG. I have read a lot of Shigaraki fics, BUT THESE ARE SO ORIGINAL IM SO HAPPY. There's one, in particular, I'm excited to write because it's just so cute, omg. 🌸

It was the fifth time this week. You were out on another mission, and Tomura was half-naked in your room on the verge of passing out from how many times he had cum into various articles of your clothing. It started off as just your panties. Perverted but not insane. As time went on, it only got worse. The panties weren’t good enough. He started putting one of your shirts over his face as he got off, and that worked...for a while. His next fix was to steal some of your perfume, but it wasn't good enough.

He felt disgusting the first time he got off in your room. He felt like he'd crossed a line (not that he hadn’t already), but it was the best orgasm of his life. What's done is done, so he might as well take advantage of the rest of your room. He was pretty comfortable now, face pressed into your pillow, inhaling your scent as his body spasmed for the last time. He was utterly spent.

And now, for the worst part, being in your room surrounded by your stuff, smelling your perfume, but still being all alone. It wasn't like Shigaraki had a crush on you or anything. Him having a crush on y/n? Unheard of. The rest of the girls in the league were like family to him. You two just weren't there yet, even though it had been five months, and he blushes whenever you talk to him. So what if he wants to punch Dabi whenever he looks at you? He wasn't in love with you. God damn it, he was just horny. That was it. That was the extent of his feelings, and they would go away.

They didn't go away, but more of your stuff sure did. It was becoming more common for clothing in your room to go missing only to end up clean and folded in the proper drawer. It was weird, but someone was doing most of your laundry for you. It wasn't Dabi taking your stuff. He could get his dick wet whenever he wanted. The other guys preached “don’t lewd y/n” and tried to fight Dabi when he put his hand on your thigh. Toga would steal your shirts but definitely not your underwear. If she did steal your clothing, she’d post a mirror pic and tag you in it.

So that left your boss. Tomura Shigaraki. You thought he hated you. He got all quiet and distant when you talked to him. Was he nervous? He glared at you and Dabi. Or was it just Dabi? Maybe the little creep did like you. He was kinda cute. His messy hair looked so soft, his eyes lit up when he won his games, Shigaraki had this little smile when he was watching the league sit together, and he had discarded father almost completely. But he was a creep, and you definitely didn't have a crush on him. Definitely not.

But part of you didn't want to tell him to stop. It took a while to cook up a plan, but it was foolproof when you came up with one. You found stole the money to invest in some hidden cameras. By now, you were starting to accept that you might like him just a little. But in a sad puppy kind of way. You didn't actually have a crush on him. Nope, not at all.

And it was kind of mean that he was making you do all this work while he got to jerk off in your bed. You'd come back with cuts, scrapes, bruises, and even a broken bone one time, just for him to totally ignore you. He had spent all day ruining your clothes and wouldn't even look at you.

Your behavior had changed towards Tomura, though, and he had definitely noticed. You were acting the same way he was. You were always blushing when you talked to him. You sat next to him while he played games, but it's "just because you're bored." Maybe you were starting to like him back. He had come to terms with his not-so-little crush on you. This didn't stop him from acting like a perv but still.

The cameras had been up for a while, and honestly, watching those videos back was way better than watching porn. Shigaraki looked so sweet and desperate. The way he laid in your bed afterward, holding your pillow, made your heartache for him. He just looked so lonely. You decided it was time to confront him.

"I'm going out for a couple days, guys!" you called, walking out with a backpack on your shoulder.

"I'll miss you, dollface," Dabi called back, blowing a kiss as you laughed at him.

The glare Shigaraki gave him could have dusted him right then and there. You stayed at a cheap motel for a while, watching the cameras. It was pretty nice to finally have some quiet. It didn't take long for Shigaraki to wander into your room with a raging hard-on. You took your time getting home, knowing he'd be there for at least a few hours. You glanced at your phone once in a while, catching two of Shigaraki’s orgasms. You’d hear a strangled cry and see his mouth wide open, eyes squeezed shut, and back arching. He’d coat his chest and your underwear in hot cum. You started to walk faster. Most of the league was asleep as you used your levitation quirk to float silently up the stairs. You opened the door.

“Who knew you were such a perv, Shiggy. All this time, I thought you hated me, but it looks like someone has a little crush on me, ” you said sweetly.

He looked like a deer in headlights, eyes wide as his body froze. A soft whimper left him as his face turned an angry shade of red that matched the head of his cock.

“N-no please, I'm sorry y/n I-i just didn't um ill leave. I'm so sorry, ” he muttered.

He got up, but you pushed him back on the bed.

“Not yet, Shiggy. I have something to show you, ” you said in a singsong voice.

You sat next to him, slinging your left arm around his shoulders. You pulled up the live feed.

“Aww, look at how cute we look right now, Shig, ” you teased.

His face told you that he was terrified.

“Y-you didn’t, ” he tried to fool himself.

“Oh, I did, ” you whispered in his ear.

You heard him sniffle. You slid the bar at the bottom of the screen back to show him what he was doing mere minutes ago.

“No, you can't, ” he choked as tears fell from his eyes, “please don’t show anyone y/n. Please I c-cant. I'm sorry, just don’t show anyone, ” he sobbed, “please don't. I’ll never talk to you again if you want I’ll do anything just don't show anyone, ” he cried.

“Anything?” you questioned.

“Anything, ” he nodded, still crying.

“Well, first of all, ” you said, “you can start by taking me out on a date, ”

He nearly choked as his eyes widened.

“What?” he whispered, wiping his eyes and nose.

“I said that you’re going to take me out on a date, and please use a tissue, ” you said.

He nodded and cleaned up his face the rest of the way.

“And second, you can take off your shirt and bend over the bed with your legs spread, ” you whispered in his ear, pressing a kiss just below it.

He looked confused for a second until his eyes widened, and he did as he was told.

“Now, don't play dumb with me. I know you’ll like this. I've seen you try and finger yourself before, but you did a shit job, and I promise this will be even better, ” you smiled, ruffling Tomura's hair.

He was getting more comfortable with you now, giving a nervous smile and humming when you touched his hair.

You walked back with everything you needed, only to sigh disappointedly, “oh Shiggy, that's not nearly wide enough. I know you can do better than that. Spread your legs more,”

He nodded, eager to please, and nearly did the splits. You giggled and smacked his butt. He jumped, causing you to laugh again.

“You’re so precious. It's a real shame I'm about to turn you into a slutty mess, ” you cooed.

He felt two slimy fingers press against his hole, and he shuddered. He tried to relax and let you press into him. It didn't take very long to get him moaning, bucking against your fingers. Two became three, and three became four before you decided he was ready. You were looking forward to eating him out, but this was supposed to be a punishment. You lined him up, rubbing the head against his hole that was still clenching around nothing. You pushed the entire thing inside of him as he screamed.

You scoffed, “do you know how many people you just woke up? Do you want the whole league to know you're getting pegged as punishment for being a disgusting, perverted slut? You want them to know that I'm fucking your ass? Huh? Do you? Cause I'll bend you over the fucking bar and show them who you submit to, ”

You started thrusting at a brutal pace. Tomura pushed his face into the pillow only for you to levitate him so he couldn't do anything to stop all the sounds coming out of his mouth. You were looking forward to all the looks you'd get as you smirked, and he struggled to sit next to you. You managed to go even harder.

“You’re not sitting or walking this week, Shiggy, ” you cooed.

“No, ” he choked out, “n-no call me Tomura p-please, ” he moaned.

“Tomura, ” you whispered in his ear, “pretty name for a pretty boy, ”

You reached around and twisted his nipple, causing him to cry out. Tomura only got louder as you reached around and grabbed his balls another hand-squeezed his tip between two fingers and pinched gently before jerking him instead. He was losing it now, tongue hanging out, and eyes rolled back. Little screams were ripped from him, and he jerked around.

“Y/n ‘m gonna, ‘m gonna cum, ” Tomura slurred.

“You gonna cum for me, Tomu? Go on, do it, ” you encouraged.

He cried out, his body going rigid as he shot cum out of his cock. He was gasping and panting as you let him flop down on the bed and pulled out.

“C-can you help me back to my room, ” he whispered, looking sad.

“No, ” you said as he frowned, eyes watering again, “because you're staying with me tonight. Get in bed, ”

He blushed and crawled into the corner. You yanked him closer, taking over as the big spoon.

“Goodnight, Tomura, ” you said. Kissing his back and shoulders, you rubbed his stomach and chest, “you're so pretty, baby. I forgive you. It’s obvious you’ve never had a crush on a girl before, and I think you learned your lesson, ” you said, rubbing his sore ass.

He nodded, “I'm sorry, I just didn't know what to do, ” he mumbled.

“I know, sweetie, ” you whispered, “I know. Was what we did ok? Did you like it?”

He nodded, “I liked it, ” he whispered.

“Do you need anything, ” you asked.

He shook his head, “just tired, ”

“Alright, baby, just get some sleep, love, ” you said.

He nodded as you both found an absurd amount of comfort in being so close to each other. You slept like a baby. You woke up to him gazing at you lovingly, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

He kissed your forehead, “I hope you know you're never getting rid of me, ” he smiled.

He kissed you, “y’know I'm kind of disappointed you didn't kiss me last night, ” he pouted.

“Mmm, I was too busy fucking you, sorry sweetie, ” you said, kissing him again.

“You enjoyed your ‘punishment’ a little too much, but having to go downstairs should be punishment enough, ” you grinned.

He groaned, “please don't make me. Let me stay in my room forever y/n, ”

“No, can do Tomu, you need breakfast, ” you said.

You walked downstairs, sitting at the bar and eating your breakfast. No one else was up yet, or so you thought until you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

“You're not dead?” Dabi asked, completely dumbfounded.

“No dumbfuck, I'm not dead. Why the hell would I be dead?” he snapped.

“I dunno maybe cause you were screaming from y/n’s room all nigh- oh no. Oh god I think I'm gonna be sick, ” he fake gagged.

All you did was laugh at him.

“You two are disgusting, y’know that?” he said.

“We know, ” you smiled eating the rest of your breakfast.

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crimeronan · 3 years

Note

Ok so I’m into the dreamer trilogy and haven’t read the Raven cycle...what is Declan’s characterisation/journey there?

THIS MIGHT BE THE BEST ASK I’VE EVER RECEIVED. IMAGINE I’M STANDING WITH MY ARMS SPREAD USING DIFFERENT VOICES AND HAND GESTURES TO REENACT THIS STORY FOR A RESENTFUL CAPTIVE AUDIENCE

also declan’s TRC storyline is like. equal parts horribly fucking sad and unbelievably fucking hilarious so. i will try to strike a Balance

FIRST OFF. there is exactly one (1) declan POV chapter in the entire series. it happens toward the end of the last book. up until then, everything we know about him comes from the observations and narration of others.

he is also a very minor character. his importance grows throughout the series, but almost all of his actions happen offscreen. it’s not until the last book that we know exactly how much he’s been dealing with the whole time.

when he’s introduced in the first book, he appears as a plot device. here is a two-dimensional horrible controlling hardass who doesn’t give a shit about anything but his future political career. look at his fake, smug fucking grin. how did someone like ronan end up with a brother like him?? doesn’t matter. it’s a convenient excuse for ronan to live with his best friend in a drafty warehouse, which means more room for YA hijinks!

declan’s introduction scene is Embroiled in Capital-D Douchebaggery. according to the narration (from gansey and adam), he loves to fuck women and then never call them back, cozy up to powerful people, and bitch about how ronan’s ruining his life by being sad about their dead parents. SOME people can just get over their dead parents, ronan!

this intro scene is also Extremely Funny i 100% recommend reading it even if u don’t read the actual series. ronan makes a nasty comment, declan goes “why are you the way that you are” and tries to salvage his date, gansey utters the phrase ��man whore”

then later that night things go like. actually bad.

declan shows up at the same pizza place where ronan is with his friends. this scene is gansey pov. gansey runs out to the parking lot to find the two of them Very Literally Trying To Kill Each Other. you don’t see that violence in cdth - there’s only the TINIEST shadow of it when declan confronts ronan over matthew - so i Cannot Express Enough that someone is going to end up hospitalized at BEST. ronan’s already slammed declan’s head on the car, declan’s already grabbed ronan and beaten the shit out of his face, like.

you do not get good old-fashioned Declan Lynch At His Actual Worst in cdth. u might be thinking, THAT guy???? doing THIS????

oh yeah. things are real bad between declan and ronan.

after gansey breaks up the fight (and gets punched in the face for his trouble, albeit accidentally), declan tells ronan that their dad would be fucking ashamed to see him now & that he’s washing his hands of it & basically if ronan wants to go off and fucking die, he can.

this is like. just a couple months after the magical suicide attempt referenced in cdth

in the aftermath of that scene it becomes clear that ronan absolutely unequivocally 100% will kill himself if he has to live with declan. hence. why he’s living with gansey instead. gansey spends that whole night petrified that the declan altercation will lead to another attempt, and for Good Reason

so like, that’s how we first meet declan. he’s an uncaring wannabe corporate asshole who does not give a fuck and who only exists to exacerbate ronan’s mental health issues.

but then the opening of book 2 gets real interesting.

book 2 is where we start learning more about the lynch family. we learn that ronan’s father was a dreamer who sold his creations on the black market, we learn that that’s why he was murdered. we learn that ronan’s a dreamer too. we learn that there are very powerful people looking for the greywaren, an artifact that takes objects from dreams. those powerful people just don’t realize it’s a person, yet.

so here’s the assassin who killed niall lynch.

he goes to declan’s dorm.

with everything we know about declan, the kid should be completely unprepared. he can box, but the assassin knows that, so there’s no real advantage. he’s alone, and he doesn’t have an escape route.

declan pulls out a gun.

this is an unexpected turn of events.

unfortunately he ends up getting beaten half to death with the butt of said gun, because he loses the ensuing physical struggle for the weapon. the assassin is like, i need the greywaren. declan is like, i know it exists but i don’t know what it is. i’ll find it for you. i’ll get it to you. then you’ll leave me the fuck alone

now with everything we know of declan at this point - his attitude toward ronan, his general demeanor, and this new knowledge that he knew about the black market - there’s one obvious question.

will declan sell ronan out if he finds out about the dreaming.

and like, okay. their relationship is antagonistic in cdth but it is NOT what it is in trc. believe me when i tell you that at that point, when you’re reading, you can pretty reasonably go, “oh, god. oh god. oh god please no one ever tell declan what the greywaren is. oh god.”

declan has some other interactions with ronan and the gang throughout the book, mostly where he’s just a hardass who tells ronan to stop causing trouble. adam’s the only one who notices that declan is scared. like bone-deep shaking to the core petrified. about Something.

probably getting beaten to within an inch of his life by the man who murdered his father. that’s the reasonable reader conclusion.

so imagine how everything changes when you find out that declan already knows. that declan’s known about ronan’s dreaming for longer than ronan has. that declan knew exactly what and who the greywaren was, and he lied to a man who was ready to torture him for information, and he got away with it.

suddenly a lot of things recontextualize.

“keep your head down and stop making trouble”? people are gonna NOTICE your magic bullshit, ronan, we do not have time for this!

“stop hanging with that loser druggie friend of yours”? you mean the loser druggie friend who sells on the magic black market and doesn’t care about protecting himself or anyone else?

“i got super weird for no reason about ronan sleeping close to adam”? i don’t have fucking TIME to be homophobic i’m busy with your POTENTIAL TO MANIFEST NIGHT TERRORS IN FRONT OF WITNESSES IN BROAD DAYLIGHT

“i’ll find out what the greywaren is and bring it to you”? i’ll die. i’m making a bargain to die. i’m never giving you the greywaren and i know you’re going to kill me about it and that’s fine as long as my brothers are safe

ronan doesn’t know that he dreamed matthew. declan knows. he’s known the whole time. declan tells ronan in book 3. and then things recontextualize even further, because ronan’s death is also matthew’s, and matthew IS close to declan in trc.

but declan never tells the goddamn truth unless it’s his last option. he doesn’t tell ronan that he knows about the dreaming and he doesn’t tell ronan what specifically wants to hurt him and the lack of communication fucking destroys both of them.

in the last book, ronan realizes declan loves him.

more than that, he realizes declan’s loved him the whole time.

this is when declan finally tells the truth. things are getting bad, plot-wise, and declan is scared, so he comes clean. he tells ronan that niall specifically tasked declan with protecting ronan from the market. he begs ronan to run from the danger. “let’s pour gasoline on everything dad left and start over.”

this is also when ronan realizes that declan’s childhood was very different from ronan’s own. and that niall and aurora lynch were not the same people to declan that they were to ronan. and that their father’s decisions are what’s driven the wedge between him and declan all this time

(he’s still struggling with the cognitive dissonance of this in cdth. i don’t think he knows how to adjust his perception of declan to fit this new information.)

aaaaand the final scene with declan makes me cry every time i read it so instead of summarizing, here’s the important part:

Ronan delivered a sharp tap to the object, and a small cloud of fiery orbs sprayed up with a sparkling hiss.

“Jesus, Ronan!” Declan jerked his chin away.

“Please. Did you think I’d blow your face off?”

He demonstrated it again, that quick tap, that burst of brilliant orbs. He tipped it into Declan’s hand, and before Declan could say anything, jabbed it to activate it once more.

Orbs gasped up into the air. For a moment, he saw how his brother was caught inside them, watching them soar furiously around his face, each gold sun firing gold and white, and when he saw the spacious longing in Declan’s face, he realized how much Declan had missed by growing up neither dreamer nor dreamt. This had never been his home. The Lynches had never tried to make it Declan’s home.

“Declan?” Ronan asked.

Declan’s face cleared. “This is the most useful thing you’ve ever dreamt. You should name it.”

“I have. ORBMASTER. All caps.”

“Technically you’re the orbmaster though, right? And that’s just an orb.”

“Anyone who holds it becomes an ORBMASTER. You’re an ORBMASTER right now. There, keep it, put it in your pocket. D.C. ORBMASTER.”

Declan reached out and scuffed Ronan’s shaved head. “You’re such a little asshole.”

The last time they’d stood on this roof together, their parents had both been alive, and the cattle in these fields had been slowly grazing, and the world had been a smaller place. That time was gone, but for once, it was all right.

The brothers both looked back over the place that had made them, and then they climbed down from the roof together.

#long post #REALLY long post #i haven't reread this so excuse any incoherence #trc #trc meta #not really but??#suicide /#declan lynch #i love my idiot son #replies #Anonymous

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

the girl next door ~ rodrick heffley;diary of a wimpy kid

word count: 1675

request?: yes!

waaaavyguurl “hey! could you do a rodrick heffley imagine where in rodrick rules the fem!reader has just moved in a house next to the heffley’s and she’s in maths class with rodrick. she’s kinda a genius, so he asks her to help him with hw and they start dating ?? maybe with an insert of greg who understands they’re together when he sees them dancing at the party ?? thank u <3″

description: in which rodrick falls for the smart girl next door

pairing: rodrick heffley x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

His mother had been adamant about the entire Heffley family going to greet their new neighbors just a day after they moved in. Susan spent the whole night making brownies, with Manny’s “help”, and had them boxed up and ready to go the next morning.

“What if they’re allergic to brownies?” Greg asked after Frank had to literally drag him out of bed.

“They’re made from scratch, so the only allergies in it are dairy and gluten,” Susan responded.

“Why couldn’t this have waited till tonight?” Rodrick groaned. “Give them some time to breathe before we scare them off.”

“If we wait too long we’ll look like rude neighbors!”

Rodrick rolled his eyes. He was sure none of the other people on the block had went to meet the new neighbors yet, but there was no talking Susan Heffley out of something once she set her mind to it.

She made the boys dress up in their nicest clothes, which for Rodrick was a pair of jeans without holes in them and a plain black t-shirt, before they made their way across the street. Rodrick let out an annoyed sigh as Susan knocked on the door and they waited.

A girl that looked about Rodrick’s age answered the door. Rodrick couldn’t help but stand up a little straighter as her eyes wandered over the family before her. “Uh...hi?”

“Hello!” Susan greeted. “We’re the Heffleys; I’m Susan, this is my husband, Frank, and my boys, Manny, Greg, and Rodrick. We just wanted to come over and welcome you and your parents to the neighborhood with some homemade brownies!”

“Nice to meet you,” the young girl greeted. “I’m (Y/N). You guys actually just missed my parents. They both work morning shifts, they won’t be home until sometime this evening.”

Rodrick held back his desire to tell his mother “I told you so”.

“Wait, so you’re here by yourself?” Greg asked. “That’s so cool!”

(Y/N) chuckled. “I appreciate the gesture none the less, and my parents will, too. I’ll tell them you stopped by, they’ll probably invite you guys back for dinner sometime.”

“That’d be great!” Susan said. “We’ll wait for your call!”

Greg and Manny were the first to break away from their parents, excitedly running back to the house to play video games and watch cartoons like they normally did on a weekend morning. Susan chased after Manny, telling him not to run across the street without her, while Frank just silently left. Rodrick stayed a moment, trying to think of something to say to (Y/N).

“I-I guess I’ll see you at school on Monday,” he finally managed to say, immediately cringing at the stupid thing he decided to say.

(Y/N) smiled at this, though, and responded, “Yeah, I’ll see you Monday. It’ll be nice to already know a friendly face.”

Rodrick smiled back and nodded. (Y/N) closed the door as Rodrick turned away, silently celebrating to himself before joining his family back at the Heffley household.

~~~~~~

That Monday, Rodrick tried not to seem too obvious as he looked around for (Y/N) at school. He couldn’t hide his disappointment when he couldn’t find her the first half of the day.

When she walked into his sixth period math class, Rodrick smiled widely and waved at her. She smiled back and quickly sat in the empty seat next to him.

“Hey! I finally found you!” she said. “This school is so big, and there’s so many people!”

“Yeah, it is pretty big,” Rodrick responded, lamely. “How have your classes been so far?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “They’re, you know, classes. I feel like I can’t form an opinion on anything yet.”

Before Rodrick could ask anymore questions, the teacher came in to start the class.

Math class always dragged on, but that day it felt like it was going at a pace even slower than a snail. Rodrick wanted nothing more than for the class to just end so he could talk to her more.

“The answer is six,” (Y/N) whispered to herself.

Rodrick looked over at her. “What?”

(Y/N) looked at him. Her face was confused at first until she realized she had spoken out loud. Before she could respond, the teacher asked, “Do you two have something to add Miss. (Y/L/N)? Mr. Heffley?”

The two exchanged a look before (Y/N) responded. “The answer to the equation is actually six. You mixed up on your second to last calculation.”

A snicker came from her classmates as the teacher rolled his eyes at her. “I can assure you my calculations are correct Miss. (Y/L/N).”

“I’m not saying they’re all wrong, just the second to last calculation.” (Y/N) rose from her seat and made her way to the whiteboard. “May I?”

“Oh sure, since you know everything.”

(Y/N) ignored his sarcastic tone and erased everything that was on the board except for the starting equation. Rodrick watched as (Y/N) rewrote the entire equation down to the last step, in which she changed the workings to equal six.

The entire room seemed to hold their breath as (Y/N) turned to their teacher. He had a blank expression on his face before letting out a sigh. “Okay, I see your point. Well done Miss. (Y/L/N), now go sit down.”

(Y/N) returned to her seat next to Rodrick, her cheeks tinted pink.

When class finally ended, Rodrick and (Y/N) left together. “That was so impressive! You’re, like, a math genius.”

“My parents have been teaching me basically since I was born,” (Y/N) explained. “They basically made me an overachiever since birth.”

“That’s cool, though. Maybe you could help me with my homework sometime.”

(Y/N) smiled. “Yeah! I’d love to!”

~~~~~~~

Rodrick watched (Y/N) talk to some friends in the living room from his spot in the kitchen. He couldn’t help but smile when she laughed at whatever one of the girls had said.

(Y/N) had really opened up in the months following her moving in. She had gained a great group of friends and had opened up a lot to the people in their grade. She was no longer the shy new girl, but now the smart, semi-popular girl that everyone loved.

“How long till you tell mom and dad about (Y/N)?” Greg asked as he came to stand next to his big brother.

“Disintegrate child,” Rodrick hissed. “Wait, how do you know about me and (Y/N)?”

Greg scoffed. “Come on, Rodrick. You’ve never looked at a girl the way you look at her, among other very obvious tells. You are totally in love with her.”

“Whoa, whoa. Back it up little bro. In love is a strong word. I like her a lot at the most.”

“Like who a lot?”

(Y/N) walked up to the brothers and threw an arm over Rodrick’s shoulder. He felt his heart starting to race at just her close proximity, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread on his face knowing she was there next to him.

Okay, maybe I love her a little bit.

“What lucky girl has taken little Rodrick’s heart?” (Y/N) continued with their “friends” bit.

“You can drop it. Greg knows about us.”

(Y/N) sighed with relief as she dropped her arm from Rodrick’s shoulder. “Good. There was no way I was going to be able to pretend that Rodrick liked someone else. I was sure I was gonna crack.”

Rodrick wrapped his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder and kissed her forehead. (Y/N) leaned into his embrace, a dreamy smile on her face as she peered up at her boyfriend. Greg looked between the two of them, an amused smile on his face.

“I’m happy for you guys,” he said. “But, just remember (Y/N), you could do so much better than Rodrick.”

Rodrick untangled himself from Greg just long enough to feign a threatening punch. Greg took off as soon as Rodrick’s hand went up, disappearing into the crowd of party people around him. Rodrick shook his head and rolled his eyes as (Y/N) laughed.

“He’s smarter than you give him credit for,” (Y/N) pointed out.

“Don’t give him too much credit, it’ll go to his already massive sized head,” Rodrick warned her.

(Y/N) laughed before giving Rodrick a quick peck on her lips. “So, Greg has already figured us out. When do we tell your parents?”

Rodrick sighed as he pulled (Y/N) tightly against them. “Realistically, they’re the next step. I don’t need Greg having anything else he can hold over my head as leverage or blackmail. But...I really don’t want you to meet them. Not because I don’t think they’d like you, they already love you more than they love the three of us. It’s just...mom is super overbearing, especially with girlfriends. The last one I had that I brought to meet them, mom straight up asked her if she planned to ever have kids and get married after graduating high school.”

(Y/N) covered her mouth to try and stifle the laugh that came out. She had met Susan Heffley a few times in passing when doing homework with Rodrick, and even in the few times she had met Rodrick’s mom, she knew that Rodrick’s story was not an exaggeration.”

“Dad is just boring,” Rodrick continued. “He doesn’t do much besides work and collect figurines. He’ll probably ask you if you’ll talk me out of being in the band and actually doing something with my life.”

(Y/N) leaned into Rodrick again. “I won’t push you. You have your reasonings for not wanting me to meet them, and I understand those reasonings. But, just so you know, they’re not gonna chase me away from you. I’m in this for the long haul, Heffley. You’re stuck with me until you get tired of me.”

Rodrick smiled and kissed (Y/N) again. “I’ll never get tired of you, (Y/L/N).”

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley imagine #rodrick heffley x reader #Devon Bostick #devon bostick imagine #devon bostick x reader #Diary of a Wimpy Kid #diary of a wimpy kid imagine #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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justshamie · 4 years

Photo

So went a bit wild on stream and came up with a College AU and then decided to write a lil oneshot for it. Enjoy c:

Link to AO3 | Link to Twitch if u interested in more shenanigans c:

There was a soft knock on the door, but Adora in her hazy state barely even moved. She must have been dreaming or maybe she just imagined it. Her dream was more inviting than the prospect of someone bothering her in the middle of her afternoon nap. This was her only break before her evening classes, and she needed that dream to continue. The view of mismatched eyes, and the soft smirk on Catra’s face was imprinted in her mind.

She could enjoy that, couldn’t she? They might not have been anything official yet, but Catra. The girl that Adora wished months ago, that she maybe liked her back. Just enough so they could at least be friends. But now, Adora knew that Catra had feelings for her, and after everything they went through, she could embrace that. Now Adora could lay in her dorm room and daydream about holding Catra and putting her face in the crook of her neck, just relaxing. So maybe she was a bit smitten. No one could blame her. They spent every moment together they could, texting during lectures and hanging out together after. She knew Catra wasn’t big on being affectionate towards others, and yet Adora was an exception. Whenever they spent time with their friends it showed, she would flinch at hugs, not expecting them. Still Catra found her ways to be close to Adora. Showing affection wasn’t maybe her strong suit, but Adora was there to meet her in the middle. Sometimes just their shoulders would touch. Sometimes Catra’s confidence showed and she would quite literally sit in Adora’s lap. Sometimes it was just her finger tucked into the back of Adora’s shirt. Out of anyone’s view. Sometimes she would hold her hand even if she was doing something else. Adora would laugh at the way Catra ate soup with her left hand if not for the warmth that spread in her chest then. If anyone would point out the affectionate gestures, she knew Catra would retreat. Last time that happened they were hanging out with their friends. They met up to play a boardgame, but Catra ended up telling them to play without her. She just sat snuggled into Adora’s side, her head tucked under Adora’s chin, while she was slowly scrolling some book on her phone. They ended up in that position after an hour of a game of pretend. Adora pretended that she wasn’t melting inside at Catra getting closer, and Catra pretended that her snuggling into Adora was just because she wanted to stretch her legs. After Adora had her arm around Catra’s waist and her fingers intertwined into hers, she was not too happy to lose that. It took all of three minutes for Bow to notice.

“You guys are ADORABLE,” he squirmed, holding his hands to his cheeks. Everyone laughed at his comment. Adora felt a blush on her face, but that disappeared as soon as she noticed Catra freeze. Adora could feel the tension in her body right under her hold. When the goodnatured chuckling died down, Catra just excused herself to the bathroom. After coming back the weight of her back against Adora’s torso was just a memory. She ended up on the opposite side of the couch and remained there for the rest of the evening. Adora understood. Or rather she tried to understand, while letting Catra be Catra. She didn’t say anything and when they were getting back to their dorms, she found Catra’s hand in hers. Everything seemed right in the world then. They would find their place together and Adora was going to be patient about it. However, she still longed for those touches. She wasn’t innocent and she would initiate them herself, and the way Catra relaxed into her was cathartic. She would live and breathe those moments. It was like an invisible force was pushing them together. She sighed and looked at her phone. She texted Catra earlier that she was going to nap instead of getting lunch and they could get some food after classes were done. They had different schedules for the day, so Adora knew that Catra would be sitting in a lab right now, learning some photo editing software and being all grumpy about boring lecturers. Adora felt an overwhelming need to poke her in the cheek right now. Maybe she was a bit more than smitten. The knocking was back. Adora rolled over and got up, ready to tell anyone who wanted to steal her precious daydream to piss off. She grunted and opened the door, pulling the most displeased look she could.

“What’s that face for, you dork?” Catra laughed seeing Adora’s grimace.

“Catra!” Adora’s face went on a full trip. From irritation to shock, bashfulness and into that soft smile that was saved only for Catra. She stood there wearing Adora’s soccer letterman jacket. That made the warm feeling inside her chest grow. Adora gave it to her after one of the matches, because she was cold. Now it was like Catra didn’t have anything else in her wardrobe. She never told her to keep it, but she quietly hoped Catra would never give it back. It was like a part of her was always with Catra. Before she could think about it, she had her arms around her in a hug.

“Whoa, look out dummy,” Catra pulled away, shoving a paper bag between them. Adora looked at her puzzled. “Wait, what are you doing here?” she wasn’t complaining, but a moment ago she was sure, she wasn’t going to see her for a few hours.

“I got us lunch, duh,” she answered in that snarky way that Adora knew was just supposed to hide whatever she was actually feeling. There was a flash of uncertainty in her eyes. Adora let her inside the room with a grin. Seeing Catra in there always made her feel warm. Something about her being comfortable in a space that was just Adora’s. Catra dropped down on her bed, settling the bag next to her.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked, poking the bag absently. Adora saw those little glances directed at her.

“Couldn’t sit in a boring Photoshop class?” Adora smiled and plopped down on the bed next to her.

“I could learn more on my own, so I decided to bail,” Catra smirked. “Wait, you remember what class I have?”

“I sometimes listen to you, you know,” Adora pulled out her tongue. “Besides remembering your schedule is convenient. That way I can plan when I can see you.”

“I…uh. Okay,” Catra seemed to not know what to say at that. Adora waited. “Thanks.”

“Thanks?” she tilted her head, imitating a puppy. Maybe she wanted to tease her just a bit.

“Ugh… You know,” Catra pushed lightly at her shoulder. “For caring.”

Maybe she also wanted to hear that.

“Of course, I care about you,” Adora smiled.

“Dork,” Catra shoved her in the side and fell onto her back, stretching.

“Yeah, I am,” at this point, smitten might not have been enough to describe Adora’s feelings. Catra was just laying on her back relaxing. Adora opened the bag with food and pulled out three small trays of sushi and some miso soup. She would have laughed for Catra’s choice of eating fish, again, but then seeing her all comfortable on Adora’s bed made her heart flutter. She heard the quiet rumble coming from Catra’s chest. Catra was sunbathing in the warmth of afternoon sun. Adora set the boxes on the coffee table. That feeling of longing came to her. Adora wanted to wrap her arms around Catra and bury her nose behind her ear, in that soft puff of fur there. She touched Catra’s hand and made gentle circles with her thumb on the top of the palm of her hand.

“I’m gonna go grab us some plates, be right back,” she placed a soft kiss to Catra’s shoulder and got up. She was being patient, there was no reason to rush. If someone saw her in the corridor when she walked over to the communal kitchen to grab the plates, she didn’t notice. Her daydream came to life and she didn’t need any more distractions. Maybe she was pacing a bit. Having Catra in her room, wearing her jacket and relaxing on her bed was making her buzz. This was something she wished for a long time. Being patient wasn’t easy sometimes, but the feeling of being with Catra like this was worth everything. She stopped in front of her door. Plates in her hands. This was alright, she could have this warmth in her life, she could want to be with someone like this. She took a deep breath. It was alright. She opened the door. Catra was still lounging on her bed. She smiled. She put the plates down and crawled on the bed.

“Did you just come here to nap?” she teased, her head over Catra’s face, hair cascaded over her shoulder. She saw how Catra’s ear twitched when it tickled her.

“Don’t forget lunch,” a sly smirk showed up on Catra’s face, her eyes still closed.

“Oh? Is that so?” Adora grinned and gently slid her fingers over the side of Catra’s neck. She felt the rumble hiding in Catra’s throat.

“Maybe,” Catra said, the tone of her voice lacked that usual snarkiness. Adora knew that tone, although it didn’t come out of Catra that often. Maybe she wasn’t the only one that felt that in her chest.

“Comfortable there?” she smiled and started to softly scratch behind Catra’s ear with her other hand. A soft purr started to fill the space between them.

“Yeah,” Catra sighed. “I knew trading my classes for a nap was worth it.”

“And lunch, right?” Adora smiled. She couldn’t keep the tease in her voice either. Being like that together felt too good.

“Duh,” now Catra was smiling, that gentle expression that was saved for Adora. Adora had it catalogued in her mind. Adora could swear every time she saw that expression her chest was bursting from everything she felt. Their mouth were inches away. She could feel Catra’s breath on her chin.

“I was daydreaming about you earlier,” she confessed.

“Oh…” Catra’s cheeks turned a shade darker, she opened her eyes for a second but closed them right after. She looked like she wanted to say something. Adora waited again. “I missed you, that’s why I came here.”

“I missed you too.” Adora touched their noses together playfully. She could feel Catra’s breath on her cheek.

“You’re such a dork,” Catra smiled and bent her arm over her to grab at Adora’s shirt collar. “Come here.”

That was invitation enough. Adora closed the gap between them in a soft kiss. Their lips met and she could feel all that warmth flow out of her chest and fill the room. She felt every muscle in her body relax. It was gentle and exactly what her body longed for. The sound of Catra’s even purr filled her ears. Both of them weren’t going to rush anywhere, just happy to be there. Together. They pulled away, Adora put her forehead to Catra’s. Both of them sighed at the same time.

“Such a dork,” Catra giggled.

“Worth it,” Adora joined in a chuckle and planted a kiss on her forehead. Catra’s stomach grumbled hungrily.

“Right. Nap and lunch, how could I forget?”

“And you.” Catra smiled, and Adora thought she could daydream about that smile forever.

#catradora #she ra #spop #my writing #college au #catra #adora #catra/adora #she ra and the princessess of power #fanfic #fanfiction

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naturallytom · 3 years

Text

Mending a Broken Heart (Tom Holland x reader, alternative part)

a/n: me? writing? unheard of. jk im tryin to get back into the groove!! this is an alternate version to Mending a Broken Heart, so some parts are the same and some I’ve edited or added some things! hope u enjoy!!

warnings: language, angst, mentions of cheating

please reblog/leave feedback!!

picture not mine!

You had noticed it for months. Tom has been pulling away, spending more time out with the boys than at home with you. His kisses became forced and the words ‘love you’ slowly stopped falling from his lips.

Most days he would leave for work before you woke up and on the rare occasion you were up when he left, he would mumble a ‘goodbye’ before walking out the door. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he would press a gentle kiss to your forehead. Most times, though, he would just leave.

You did your best to keep the love alive, you were still madly in love with him. The wedding band that sat tightly on your ring finger mocked you. A symbol of what was love has turned into one sided love. Hell, you weren’t sure if Tom wore his wedding ring anymore.

A quick glance to his left hand would reveal that he didn’t.

You spent your nights wondering if it was something you did. Were you too clingy when he left to film? Was he just tired of you after four years of marriage? Did he find someone else?

No. You shook your head to yourself one night as you laid in the bed by yourself, the space usually occupied by Tom cold. If he found someone else and if he cheated, that’s on him. Not on you.

Still, the thought plagued your mind. Did he meet someone else? Was she prettier than you? Is that where he was when he said he was out with the boys? Was she able to give him something you couldn’t give him?

The door opening and shutting alerted you that Tom was home. You sighed, knowing it’d be another night of sleeping on opposite sides of the bed.

The door to the bedroom opened and in came Tom, Tessa jumping up to greet him.

“Hey girl, hey love, how are you, hm?” He whispered, petting Tessa as his eyes flickering over to you, who was visibly awake. “Thought you’d be asleep by now. ‘S late.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You replied simply. “Hey so I was thinking, we haven’t had a date night in a while, maybe you wanted to go out to see the Halloween decorations around town and get dinner tomorrow night?”

“Can’t,” He shook his head as he got ready for bed. “Harrison wants to watch the game. Told him I’d go.”

“Didn’t you just see Harrison tonight?”

“Yeah, and?”

“Nothing.” You sighed, obviously upset. “Nothing, Tom. Goodnight.”

“Night.” He responded, turning out the light and climbing into bed, falling asleep with his back toward you.

The next day, you were surprised to see Tom already awake and waiting in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of tea when you got downstairs.

“Good morning.” You smiled softly.

“We need to talk.” He told you. You felt your heart drop and your palms get sweaty, but you wiped them on your pajama pants in an effort to seem totally calm and not panicked.

“A-About what?” You asked, your voice coming out shaky.

“I think,” Tom started. “I think we should get divorced.”

It was then, at 8:30 am that your world came crashing down.

“W-What?” You whimpered out, your voice weaker than before. “Why?”

“I’m not happy with you anymore.” He said simply. Your eyes flickered to his left hand, noticing the absence of the golden wedding band, making your heart ache.

“We can try couples’ therapy. We can go on dates like we used to, Tom, please! We can fight for this, Tom. Fight for us.” You cried, your heart shattering into a million tiny pieces, each one puncturing your lungs as you struggled to keep your breath under control.

“No,” He shook his head. “My mind is made up. I’m sorry, y/n. Um, I found a lawyer at a firm, they have a lot of other lawyers there you can contact. I’ll just, uh, leave their card here.”

“So that’s it? Three years of dating and four years of marriage down the drain?” You sobbed, holding your knees to your chest as you sat on the kitchen floor.

“I’m sorry, y/n. Truly, I am.”

He placed the small business card on the counter, grabbing the bags you didn’t even notice, mumbling an ‘I’ll be staying with Haz,’ before walking out the front door, like he did every other day. This time, though, you had the sinking feeling he was leaving for good.

It was only three weeks that your lawyer came over to meet with you, joined by Tom and his lawyer. You kept your eyes focused on the table as you signed the paperwork, wanting to get this done as soon as possible.

As soon as everyone left, you shut the door, slid down the back of it, and cried.

Nearly two months after the worst day of your life and it was time for a self care night. The ring that once sat on your left hand was buried away in your jewelry box somewhere and you were finally starting to feel free and somewhat happy again after crying yourself to sleep and wondering where it all went wrong for months.

After the divorce you buried yourself in work, using it as a distraction from going home to an empty house. You also moved out of the house you once called home. Not only was it too painful to go home to an empty house, but it was too painful to go home to a house that held so many happy and loving memories. You took the necessities along with some things you wanted with you and set yourself up in a hotel room for the time being. You treated it as a vacation. Except only a few people knew where you were. Your family knew, along with your friends, including Harrison, on the condition he didn’t tell Tom where you were. You started making time for yourself in your little hotel room and you became happier.

Tonight, after a long day of work, you ordered your favorite Chinese food, played your favorite songs, and ran yourself a bath with a vanilla scented bath bomb. You were enjoying a glass of wine, the hot water of the bath soothing you when the music playing from your phone was interrupted by a call coming in.

To your surprise, it was Tom. You contemplated answering it, but instead, let it go to voicemail. However, you were curious as to why he called, though you were also 99% positive it was a pocket dial. So you played the voicemail, the familiar voice ringing throughout the bathroom.

“Hey y/n, um, I hope you’re doing well. I just called because I wanted to tell you something. I um, I miss you. A lot. And I know I don’t get to feel that way but I do and I just wanted to tell you that and I guess ask if there was any possibility of meeting to talk? Uh, call me back if...if you want. I don’t blame you if you hate me. Bye. Love y-”

You turned off the voicemail before the phrase could be finished. Millions of thoughts filled your mind, ranging from happy ones to ones that made your heart ache and tears fill your eyes.

You decided to ignore it, pretend it never happened, and enjoy your self care night.

When Tom pulled up to his former house with flowers in his car and a pit of nerves in his stomach, he expected to see your car in the driveway and at least one light to be on. He was greeted with an empty driveway and a dark house, which confused him. It was the weekend, so you weren’t work. Maybe you had to run an errand?

But after 20 minutes, he gave up hope that you were home and tried to call you, which to no surprise, you didn’t pick up again. He instead called Harrison in an effort to try and find out if he knew where you were.

“What do you want?” Harrison answered, half concentrating on what Tom was about to say and half concentrating on the game in front of him.

“Do, uh, do you know where y/n is?” Tom asked, taking Harrison by surprise.

“y/n?” Harrison paused the game, suddenly not able to concentrate on it. “Why d’you want to know where y/n is?”

“I just want to talk to her.” He mumbled.

“If I knew that’s where you were going I wouldn’t have let you go.” Harrison sighed. “Listen she made me swear that I wouldn’t tell you-”

“Please Harrison? You’ve seen how much of a mess I’ve been. I just want to see if I have a shot.” Tom begged, making his friend cave.

“Fine but if she moves again I won’t be telling you shit.”

The next day you were enjoying a cup of tea and reading your book, getting some relaxation in before your week began when a knock on the door interrupted you. Confusion filled your body, you weren’t expecting anyone to pop by.

Looking out the peephole, you froze at the sight that greeted you. Tom was standing outside your door, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands.

“Hi.” He breathed out, his nose and the tips of his ears red from the harsh winter air.

“How the hell did you find me?” You asked, keeping your eyes focused on the ground.

“Harrison. I begged him to tell me.” He answered.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You muttered. “What do you want?”

“Can..Can I come in?” He asked.

You wanted to say no, that he could say what he wanted to say outside or just not let him speak at all. But you wanted to be courteous to the other people on your floor and part of you was curious as to what he was going to say. So you wordlessly opened the door slightly, letting him in and closing the door behind him.

“Now what do you want?”

“Did you get my voicemail?” He responded, hope filling his eyes when you nodded. “Um, I brought these for you. I was hoping we could talk.”

“I don’t want your flowers. Why should I talk to you? We’re divorced, just like you wanted.” Tom winced at the words. “Nothing to change.”

“Actually, we’re not.” He corrected. “I called the office the other day. Um, it’s not official yet.”

“Well then they should make it official. Maybe I can call them and make it happen as my very last Christmas present to you. Just what you wanted.” You snapped.

“No, this isn’t what I want, can I speak, please?” He pleaded, his eyes resembling those of a puppy.

“You’re speaking already.” You answered, gesturing for him to continue nonetheless.

“I- How have you been? I stopped by the house-”

“Tom I’m not gonna listen to your small talk. Say what you have to say and leave.” You told him. His heart broke but he couldn’t blame you.

“Um, so I thought I wasn’t happy with you but um, as time went on, I realized how much I miss having you in my life.” He began, visibly nervous. “I was just looking through our pictures and how happy you looked and I just, I guess I realized I wanted to be the one to make you that happy again.”

“You haven’t made me happy in months, Tom.”

“I know.” His heart clenched. “I know and I’m so sorry, y/n. I really am.”

“Was there someone else? Did you cheat on me?” You asked.

“No, no absolutely not, y/n.” He answered before adding; “I went on a date with someone after we split up but it didn’t work out. I realized she wasn’t what I want.”

“Of course she wasn’t.” You scoffed.

“I want you, y/n. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy again.” He told you, tears filling your eyes. “Is there..is there any possibility you could love me again?”

“Again?” You seethed. “Tom I never fell out of love with you! I never stopped loving you! That was all you! You stopped loving me and you wanted this stupid fucking divorce!”

“I..I don’t think I ever stopped loving you either.” He whispered, tears falling down his rosy cheeks. “Please, y/n, if there’s even the tiniest chance..”

“Of what, Tom? Of going right back to being married? Of you making me happy? I don’t know, Tom! I don’t know anything except that I hate you right now.” You sobbed, crying into your knees while Tom let out quiet sobs of his own, his heart clenching at the lack of wedding band on your left hand and the lack of love in your voice, but especially your eyes. Your eyes, which once held so much love and adoration for him were now full of anger and resentment.

“Of..anything, y/n. Please, I just want a second chance to show you how much you mean to me, to make you happy again. I will do anything to save us, anything you want. And...and if it’s not working or you just really hate me, I wouldn’t blame you. Not at all.” He begged, his eyes puffy and red.

“I tried to save us, Tom. Don’t you remember? I begged and pleaded with you to do couples therapy to go on dates when you were breaking my heart into a million tiny pieces. I begged you to try and fight for us, for our marriage, but you just walked out the god damn door!” You spit through gritted teeth.

“I fucked up, I know. I fucked up so badly.” He cried, wiping his tears away.

“And if leaving me wasn’t enough, you took Tessa too! I was left completely alone in that big fucking house that was haunted by you. I couldn’t stand it.” You sobbed.

“I’m..I’m sorry, y/n. So so fucking sorry. What do you want me to do?”

“I want...I want you to hurt. I want you to hurt the way you hurt me. I want you to know how this fucking feels.” You said, your voice getting louder with each word that fell from your lips.

Tom could only cry. This was ripping him apart, he couldn’t even imagine what the whole thing felt like to you.

“I’m gonna need time to think, Tom.” You finally mumbled, Tom nodding in response.

“I’ll give you all the time you need. I promise you-”

“Don’t. Don’t promise me anything.” You spoke, your voice low. “You won’t be able to keep it. You promised you’d love me forever four years ago and look what happened.”

“y/n pl-”

“You don’t get to do this. You-you don’t get to just waltz right back in here and ask for a second chance to fight for us when I didn’t even get a first chance. How do I know this won’t end like it did before?”

“y/n, I swear to you, if this isn’t working out, you can leave me. I...I just want a chance to prove myself to you.” He begged.

“God, Tom. You don’t get it! I’m not going through this again. Do you realize how much you broke me the first time? Fuck, you had a chance, Tom. And you threw it away.” You muttered quietly.

“I regret that every day. Every god damn day.” He told you honestly.

“I don’t know, Tom.” You sighed.

“Talk to me?” He tried, knowing you were hiding something deeper than an ‘I don’t know.’

“Don’t know what else there is to say.” You mumbled. “I don’t trust you, I-I can’t trust you. I hate you.”

“Why’d you get a hotel room?” Tom sniffled, changing the subject.

“I told you. I hated being in that house. Hated being surrounded by the happy pictures and memories of us.” You told him honestly. “I want to start over.”

“What?”

“I want to start over. I can’t go back to being emotionally married to you even if we’ll still be married legally. I’m talking starting from scratch, as if we were meeting for the first time, the whole deal.” You told him.

“That sounds perfect, y/n. Thank y-”

“Get out, Tom. Please. I just want to be alone and not with you right now. I’m still not happy with you.”

“Okay.” He breathed out, hope filling him once again. “You won’t regret this, I promise.”

“What did I just say about promises?” You asked tearily.

“I know, I know. I’m determined to keep this promise, though.” He told you.

“Fine. Whatever. Just please leave for now.” You whimpered, watching as he walked out the door, just like he did when he broke your heart.

You decided you needed another self care night. Another bath was run, another vanilla scented bath bomb was used, more wine was consumed.

Tom texted you right as you got out of the bath.

Tom: hey y/n, it’s tom, just incase you don’t have my number saved anymore. I just wanted to say thank you for the second chance. I really am grateful. I hope you have a relaxing night, you deserve it.

You rolled your eyes and tossed your phone gently on your bed, though you could feel your heart rate pick up and butterflies fill your stomach.

Tom began texting you sweet little things each morning, whether it was to let you know that he’s been thinking of you or to tell you that he hopes you have a great day. At first you ignored them, but then you began responding in short answers of one or two words until the two of you were texting every day, like when you met for the first time seven years ago.

Over a month after you started texting again, Tom took you on a first date. Pulling up to your hotel, Tom felt the nerves fill his body as he walked up to your door and knocked, another bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand.

He felt all the air leave his lungs as you opened the door. You looked absolute stunning. You were wearing a navy blue dress that reached down to just above your knees, one Tom bought you one year.

“Wow, hi.” He breathed. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, accepting the flowers he handed you. “I’ll be right back.”

Tom took you to your favorite restaurant that night, one that the two of you frequented when you (formerly) went on dates.

When he took you back to your hotel, he walked you up to the door, where he nervously asked if he could kiss you.

You said yes, and that was all Tom needed to press a soft kiss to your lips. The kiss was magical, both of you felt the sparks between the two of you.

“God I missed doing that.” Tom mumbled as he pulled away to breathe.

“Then do it again.”

A couple months after that, Tom moved back in with you. You had gone back to the house every now and then, to slowly acclimate yourself to being back in the once happy house, only fully moving back when Tom moved back as well. The pictures of the two of you were dusted off, making your heart race instead of hurt at the sight of the happy memories.

Finally, after a year, Tom proposed to you (again). You hesitated a little bit, still scared it would end in heartbreak again, which broke Tom’s heart, but said you yes in the end.

The two of you renewed your vows, putting on the golden bands that were once again a symbol of the love the two of you shared.

You had a small party back at your house after the ceremony, your families joining to celebrate. You found Tom alone in the kitchen, grabbing a beer for him and Harry.

“Hey.” You greeted, fiddling with your fingers as tears of happiness filled your eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong, my love?” Tom asked, concerned as soon he saw the tears filling your eyes.

“Nothing, nothing. I, um,” You started, wiping your tears away and wrapping your arms around Tom’s neck. “I’m really glad we made it back to this.”

“Me too, lovey. I love you so much.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“You kept your promise.” You smiled softly, making Tom’s heart ache at the memory of you not being able to trust him.

“I told you I would.”

Your moment was interrupted by Harrison, who entered the kitchen, smiling at his two best friends happily in love once again.

“Aren’t you so glad I told him where you were staying?” He joked, making you roll your eyes.

“Shut up, Harrison.” You smiled. As your eyes flickered between Tom and Harrison, though, you knew you wouldn’t have been in this position if Harrison didn’t spill the beans to Tom.

“Hey Haz?” You called, as Harrison went to leave the kitchen in fake offense. He turned at the sound of his name, knowing what was coming.

“Thank you.” Tom nodded in agreement, his arm slipping around your waist.

Harrison just smiled even bigger, all three of you knowing everything would be okay from now on.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland angst #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x female!reader

112 notes · View notes

mizunetzu · 3 years

Note

ok fine i'll bite

what if u made a tamaki amajiki fic but instead he's actually the UA traitor 😳 and he's actually a yandere and his target's a gender neutral 3rd year 😳 omg that would be pog

haha jk.. unless?

don't bully me pls i haven't done this b4

Miss miss miss sylviaaa 😀😀😀 I lov u miss sylviaaa

——————

Tamaki x reader - My Darling’s Pen

⚠️warnings - yandere Tamaki, stalking

Pronouns - genderneutral, they/them

——————

All it took was a pen.

A pen that dropped from their desk, one that rolled over and knocked against the side of Tamaki’s shoe. He hadn’t noticed them at all for the whole school year, but the moment they tapped him on the arm and said,

“Sorry-can you get that pen for me? It’s near your foot.”

With one of the warmest smiles he’d ever seen, he was smitten. Their voice was tantalizing, sweet and not too loud, and it graced Tamaki’s ears like wedding bells. He didn’t know he was staring until the beauty that was this person waved their hand infront of his face awkwardly.

“...Are you ok?” Their voice was full of worry. Worry for him. Tamaki’s heart swelled with the notion that he was being worried over by someone as...lovely as them.

He nodded shyly, and bent down to swoop up the pen in his hand. Their hand brushed against his when they reached over and grabbed it, and he could still feel his hand tingling even hours after. The person smiled another one of those heart clenching smiles, and looked back down at their paper.

Tamaki couldn’t focus the rest of the period.

——

When the bell dismissing them for lunch rang, and students started getting up from their seats, he once again noticed that person walking past him, talking to their friends. He wished he was part of their friend group. He didn’t know why, but that person just seemed so...cool.

The same pen from earlier bobbed from a hole in their bag’s pocket, and Tamaki cursed himself for staring once more. The pen eventually slipped completely through the small rip in their bag. The pen tumbled onto the ground, and stopped in front of Tamaki.

He picked it up. Should he return it? He looked at the door. No one was there. He was the only person standing in the classroom. Tamaki considered giving it back to them when class ended, but he found himself slowly slipping the pen into his own pocket.

‘It’s a pen’, he thought. ‘Surely they won’t miss it. It’s...it’s a pen.’

He didn’t know why he wanted to keep it so much. It was just that. A pen. He had no use for it-he had tons of other pens that no one asked to borrow because he was too shy to talk to them. It was useless.

But he found himself sitting on his bed hours later, staring blankly at the ceiling while he admired the pen or clicked it once or twice.

It was just a pen...

——

Everyday, when Tamaki would open his pencil pouch, he’d have all these other pens and pencils to choose from, ones that probably wrote way better than that person’s pen, but every single time, his eyes would land on that pen he “found on the ground” and he’d use it.

Fidgeting with the pen after class, he couldn’t help but follow this mysterious pen dropper every single day out to lunch. He wasn’t a stalker, no! He was just...figuring out the right time to return the pen they dropped. The pen they dropped a week ago...

Tamaki saw the familiar mop of (H/c)-colored hair, running past him and to their group of friends that Tamaki just so happened to memorize. He stared at them without shame, until he heard one of them speak.

“Hey, (Y/n). It-it uh, looks like Tamaki-kun wants to talk to you there.” The friend pointed at him, but he only tensed up when their eyes drifted from their friends to him and him alone.

“Oh. Uh, that guy from the big three?”

The person, (Y/n), whispered to their friends. Tamaki’s heart swelled. They knew who he was. He felt a sense of pride. He was important enough to take up space in this beautiful person’s memory. He wanted to be more important, and maybe take up some more space like he never used to want before. He wanted attention when he never used to want attention before.

“...hello?” (Y/n) was in front of him now. They looked straight into Tamaki’s eyes, and Tamaki wanted to look away immediately. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t sure if he was just nervous like he normally is, or if it was something else. But still...

They smelled so good.

(Y/n) waved their hands in front of Tamaki’s eyes. He blinked, suddenly very aware of how he was lost in his own thoughts. He was about to apologize, and maybe turn to face the wall, until he heard (Y/n’s) lovely, lovely voice.

“You’re really shy, huh? Don’t worry, I can back up if you want me to.”

Their voice was gentle. So gentle, like something fuzzy tickling Tamaki’s nose. It made him want to crawl inside a locker and just breathe. It was heavenly. He wanted nothing more but to just...listen to this person’s kind voice.

“U-u-uh...it’s fi-ine...” Tamaki hated the way his voice was barely audible. It stood nothing against the kind, smooth, god-like voice (Y/n) graced him with. Still, (Y/n) smiled so, so warmly.

“Alright then. Did you need something?”

Oh. That’s right. The pen. He was going to return it. Tamaki began to reach into his pocket, when his hand stopped. He thought about it for a second, then let his hand rest flaccidly inside his pocket, shoving his other one in bashfully aswell.

“I-no...I was just-just staring off into space and I-I guess I was staring in y-y-your direction...”

It was a lie. A terrible one at that. So he didn’t understand why (Y/n) believed him, bid him goodbye with their angelic voice, and let him keep their wonderful pen. He didn’t understand why he didn’t return it either. He needed to...return it. But there was one thing he did know.

That beautiful angel that sat near him in class was named (Y/n).

——

Once you knew someone’s name, it was relatively easy to find out more about them.

For example, Tamaki knew their full name was (L/n) (Y/n), their favorite food was the cafeteria onigiri that lunch rush would package on the go, but specifically if it was left alone to sit for a few minutes to marinate, and he even knew the neighborhood where (Y/n) lived, and how long it took (Y/n) to walk from there to school. 14 minutes and 38 seconds not counting the times they go buy a snack from the convenience store. Though, he wished he knew their exact address.

That wasn’t it, however. Tamaki found himself ‘discovering’ more and more of (Y/n’s) items, whether it be a small keychain hanging off their backpack he purposely loosened with his scissors so it would fall off, or the strawberry scented chapstick that was sitting so enticingly on their desk when they left to the bathroom one day, Tamaki had them all. Nothing too important, though. Nothing that he knew (Y/n) would miss. Just pens and their old loose paper assignments that they threw away, mostly.

And it didn’t help that Tamaki stopped sitting with Mirio and Neijre at lunch, just to purposely sit at a lunch table near (Y/n’s) so he could hear their pretty voice once again. Not too close, but close enough to listen. When Mirio asked, Tamaki told him he just wasn’t feeling very well lately.

But that didn’t make him a stalker, right? He wasn’t overstepping any boundaries...he was just...finding the right opportunity to give back the pen he borrowed. Yeah. That’s it. The pen he borrowed that he actually didn’t borrow. He figured they’d want it back, even though he had countless other little trinkets in his possession, that once belonged to them.

No, no he wasn’t a stalker. He was trying to be a good person and return their pen.

——

Ok, maybe it was a bit of an obsession.

Most of his camera roll was filled with (Y/n). Pictures from their social media that Tamaki cropped so he could only see them (and not their stupid friends), pictures he nervously snuck during class or lunch, and even the occasional picture he took ‘passing by’ when (Y/n) was walking home.

He cherished all of them, even printing some out and building a small shrine with the items he stole. He didn’t want his parents to see, so he made sure it was in a box he could hide in his closet.

Once again, (Y/n) walked home from school like always. They took their normal route, as always. But this time, they walked alone. Tamaki was planning to sneak some more pictures—nothing too indecent because even he has some boundaries—but this time (Y/n) was alone.

‘Ah...!’ Tamaki shuffled through his bag, pulling out the small pencil pouch he bought purely filled with stuff ‘borrowed’ from (Y/n). He fished out the pen he’d been planning to return for a month now, and looked back at (Y/n). ‘Nows the perfect time...’

...But he wanted to keep the pen. It was his favorite pen. Even though he had countless other pens ‘borrowed’ from (Y/n), he couldn’t help but feel attached to this one. So he fished out another random pen from the pouch of (Y/n’s) things, before stopping again.

He didn’t wanna give up these either.

Instead, he zipped up the ‘(Y/n)’ pouch, grabbed his normal pencil pouch, and brought out one of his normal pens. It looked similar to one of the countless pens he took from (Y/n), so he supposed it would suffice. Wasn’t he such a nice person? Giving them a pen?

His poor heart started pumping when he jogged up to (Y/n). Some part of him wanted to just...keeping watching (Y/n) from a distance, but he knew he wanted more for a while now. He wanted to...talk to (Y/n). He wanted (Y/n) to talk to him. He wanted to crawl inside (Y/n’s) body and just be (Y/n).

“E-e-excuse me...?” Tamaki’s voice went dry as he touched (Y/n’s) shoulder. He wasn’t worthy of touching (Y/n’s) shoulder, yet like the horrible person he is, he did. He dirtied the perfect shoulder (Y/n) had. How disgusting of him.

“Yes?”

Tamaki fumbled and held up his pen. “You uh-you dropped this in class earlier...”

“...you sure? I mean,” (Y/n) took the pen, and their warm hand brushed against Tamaki’s fingers so gracefully. It sent shivers down his spine, and he wanted nothing more than to just collapse into (Y/n) and breathe in. “I’m pretty sure I wasn’t using a pen today. But this looks like the brand I buy.”

“U-uh!” Tamaki broke into a cold sweat. “I saw it...drop...out of your bag.”

“Oh.” (Y/n) look at their bag, and at the small hole that was in its side pocket. “There’s a hole..that makes sense. Uh, thanks for returning my pen.”

(Y/n) smiled. Tamaki felt like he was going to die. He didn’t deserve someone so kind and beautiful and caring. Granted, no one did. Not even him.

“Are walking in this direction?” (Y/n) gestured ahead. Tamaki nodded, even though he knew very well his house was blocks away in the opposite direction. He soon found himself walking next to (Y/n) in silence.

He had (Y/n’s) attention. (Y/n) was walking next to him. It’s almost like they were dating already. That’s what lovers do, right? Walk next to eachother?

He wanted nothing more but to just breathe in the scent of (Y/n’s) hair. He wanted to worship (Y/n’s) fingers, he craved the bones in their body, he wanted to praise every single nerve and atom that belonged to (Y/n). He wanted (Y/n) so bad.

He was brought out of his trance when (Y/n) stopped at a crossroads. “My house is this way,” they said.

Tamaki shot back with a “Me too-!” Almost robotically. He wanted to see (Y/n’s) house...and maybe memorize their address. Not in a creepy way, though.

“Well...this is my house, I didn’t know you lived so near to me.”

“Y-yeah.” Tamaki watched as (Y/n) bid him farewell, with an angelic ‘thank you’, and walked off towards their house. Tamaki silently memorized his surroundings, every small flower and potted plant that belonged to the angel that was (Y/n), and finally wrote down (Y/n’s) address with their pen on his hand.

He didn’t know what he would do with this info, if he was honest. But just having it made him feel high.

——

Tamaki was going to do it.

Today was the day he would return the pen.

He thought about it for a while. He loved the pen, he never parted with it, but he needed an excuse to find a way to get closer to (Y/n). He’d say they dropped it out of their bag again and maybe offer to go out for ramen or something. He’d just leave out the part that (Y/n) dropped the pen more than 2 months ago.

Tamaki walked around the U.A. campus with the pen in his hand. He ran his fingers through the barrel of the pen. (Y/n) was no where to be found. They weren’t sitting with their friends like they normally did during lunch, so where could they be?

Tamaki was about to round a corner, when he heard voices talking from the other side. He stopped, about to turn on his heel and leave, when he heard angelic bells ringing. (Y/n’s) lovely voice talking to...whoever they were talking to.

“I-I like you, Hatsumada-kun!”

Tamaki went rigid against the wall. He loved hearing (Y/n’s) lovely voice 24/7, even recoding candid audios of (Y/n) answering questions in class or talking to their friends to listen to while he went to bed, so this was the first time he wished (Y/n) hadn’t said anything.

He was waiting for this Hatsumada guy to speak. Maybe he’d try to catch a glimpse of his face so he could—what was he saying? Intrusive thoughts began to flood his mind. He wanted to punch Hatsumada. He wanted to beat him up. He wanted to murder him.

“...I’m sorry, (L/n)-san. I don’t really see you that way.”

For some reason, Tamaki was even more angry than he would’ve been if Hatsumada had accepted their confession. He pursed his lips, and walked away as quickly as he could. His poor (Y/n), their feelings must be so hurt. How could he?

Tamaki long forgot the pen sitting in his hand, waiting to be returned to its rightful owner.

——

After the third tree came toppling down, Tamaki was beginning to think he’d get charged for property damage.

I mean, it was school property, and it was in the training grounds. Angrily whipping his tentacles around or bucking at trees with horse feet could qualify as ‘training’.

Tamaki was left huffing, glaring down angrily at the fallen, mangled tree. He’d never felt so angry before. He was usually a submissive, “avoid conflict-y”person, and he didn’t get angry much, but he felt so angry he could die.

His poor (Y/n). Having to get rejected by scum like that. But even if that pig had said ‘Yes’, he’d be equally as angry. His beloved (Y/n) didn’t deserve someone as undeserving as him. No one did. No one deserved (Y/n), not even himself.

Momentarily turning his tentacles back into his regular limbs, Tamaki sighed and curled up next to the fallen tree trunk. His hands were bloodied up, his knuckles peeling from when he started punching and slashing at tree before he decided to use his quirk. It was probably the first time he’d been so angry.

Tamaki leaned back against the trunk, laying down on the uncomfortable wood. What was happening to him? He felt so mad he could die. He couldn’t believe he was imagining trees as Hatsumada, as he brutally destroyed them one by one. That wasn’t the actions of a hero...

Rustling from two tall bushes caused Tamaki to shoot up, his tentacles shooting out from his back, and probably ripping his shirt up. He stood alert, his wide eyes searching sporadically through his dark bangs. Finally, a man, whom Tamaki was pretty sure wasn’t a teacher, appeared from the bushes, holding a cane and his free arm up.

“I come in peace, Tamaki Amajiki-san.”

The man had a stylish top hat on, and his face was masked with a flat, white mask with black trim. He had a long coat on, and dark gloves that made him look like a magician.

“W-who are you? This is private property-!”

The man kept walking towards Tamaki. “Are you angry, Tamaki-kun?”

“I-of course I’m mad! You’re trespassing, so I suggest you leave before I call-“

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about that boy. The one talking to that person you fancied.”

Tamaki went silent. He let his tentacles falter from their alert position, before suspiciously bringing them back up. “H-h-how do you know that! You stalker!”

“Frankly you’re one to call me a stalker.”

Tamaki broke into a cold sweat. He raised his fists defensively. “I-I’m not a-I’m not-“

“But you are, aren’t you? It’s fun to watch the people you love, isn’t it?” A girl grabbed Tamaki from behind by the shoulders, making him flinch as she smiled widely. “I love it too-I love it so much I want to see the person I love all covered in blood...”

The girl unhanded Tamaki, and stepping in front of him and standing next to the taller, poised man. “But they don’t understand our kind of love, do they? The heroes. They think the way I love people is wrong, and they would think the same for you...”

Tamaki pursed his lips. This was manipulation. They were trying to get into his head somehow, trying to appeal to him, trying to convince him that he was just like the scum they were...

...and it was working.

Tamaki said nothing, though his tightly clenched fists and hinged jaw told a different story. He loved (Y/n). He loved (Y/n) so much it made him crazy. He loved (Y/n) so much it made him want to murder Hatsumada. Simple as that. He was trying to convince himself he didn’t, but the sight of him all bloodied up and misshapen by Tamaki’s bare hands made him shiver.

“Y’know, people will call you a stalker for sure if they saw this.” The man was holding up Tamaki’s school bag, more importantly the scrapbook pasted with printed out photos and pressed objects of (Y/n) littered inside. The man flipped through the pages with care. “I, however, think it’s lovely that you admire someone so much you’d make a whole book dedicated to them. How romantic.”

He found himself agreeing. It was, wasn’t it? He cared so, so much, so how could it be weird or creepy or stalkerish? Tamaki shook his head, shaking the intrusive thoughts from his mind. “N-no! Put that back! Why are you here?!”

“We want to make a deal with you.”

“Me?” Tamaki snarled, backed up against a tree. He hardened his exterior in hope of masking his utter curiosity, especially after their understanding of his feelings for (Y/n). They understood.

“You see, learning information about U.A. is difficult when it’s such a prestigious school. But it would definitely be a lot easier if we had an...inside man feeding it to us.”

Tamaki’s eyes widened. “You want me to betray my school?”

“In Laymans terms, yes.”

“Now why would I ever-!”

“Because they don’t understand us. Once they find out you sneak pictures of this person from outside their window while they sleep, they label you a stalker for sure.” The girl held up Tamaki’s scrapbook, displaying hazy printed photos of (Y/n) through their bedroom window. “But us? We don’t judge. We understand. You just want to admire them, and love them the way you do and not be judged. I want that too.”

The man chimed in. “Your school is a judgmental, horrible place. So help us fix it, and join the LoV.”

Tamaki looked down at his feet. He continued. “You don’t need to join us physically. You may still attend U.A., and we will contact you occasionally, when we need information. And surely we will spare you from harm if we decide to attack, as well your little crush.”

Tamaki couldn’t believe he was actually considering it. Well, he also couldn’t believe how angry he got seeing someone being confessed to, or how obsessive his feelings for (Y/n) became. It was all new to him.

...So what was one thing more?

“I’ll do it. I’ll do it on one condition.”

His decision was based purely on feelings. Nothing of what he was saying was logical. It wasn’t morally correct. Still...

The man and the girl both smiled, looked at each other, and nodded. They turned back to Tamaki, giving him a look to go on.

“If I...when I decide to do something...a-and it makes a mess, or I need covering up in any way, promise you’ll clean up for me. Evidence and all.”

Was he really going to do this?

“Whatever you need, Tamaki-kun.”

He was.

The man tipped his hat, and the girl placed the book back in Tamaki’s hands. “We’ll be in touch. If you do anything heinous, we’ll be there to help aswell. Anything for our new traitor.”

Tamaki felt sick to his stomach.

“...y-you guys are crazy.”

“And you’re a lovesick stalker.”

“...I know.”

Tamaki watched as the two disappeared behind the brush. His knees buckled, as he sat back against the disfigured tree truck, and reached into his bag. He cradled his scrapbook as he fished out (Y/n’s) pen that he loved so much, and stroked it scantily. He huddled in on himself, pressing the pen to his cheek.

Soon.

Soon he’d return (Y/n’s) pen. Right after he murdered Hatsumada.

——————

If y’all didn’t know the man and the girl was mr compress and toga

-Mr. Mizunetzu

#tamaki x y/n #tamaki headcanons #tamaki amajiki #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki x male reader #tamaki amajiki x gn reader #tamaki x gn reader #bnha x reader #bnha fic #bnha x male reader #mha x gn reader #bnha x gn reader #mha x male reader #yandere tamaki #yandere tamaki x reader #yandere tamaki amajiki

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ppersonna · 4 years

Text

thunder - ksj | m

your voice was the soundtrack of my summer. do you know you're unlike any other? you'll always be my thunder. - thunder, boys like girls

↳ summary- you allow your best friend Jin to take you backpacking once per year. apparently, this year’s outing would be the wettest yet.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- kim seokjin x reader

↳ word count- 6k

↳ genre- fluff, tiny angst, smut, comedy

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, light dom!jin, light sub!reader, fucking in tents haha ha ha ha, cum play, cum eating, possessive dirty talk

↳ a/n- wow hello! its been so long since i uploaded a fic i almost forgot how to do it! i would like to give you a fic that i’ve had in my storage since march, and one i’m excited to finally finish. i’d be nowhere without @taetaewonderland @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia for hyping me up to post it in the first place. thank u to @shadowsremedy for being my fav beta ily ily ily. enjoy my babes! pls feel free to message me!

“Kim Seokjin, if you got us lost, I’m going to murder you,” you seethed as your pulled your booted foot out of a slick puddle of mud.

“I didn’t get us lost, dear. The map is wrong,” he replied coolly as he twisted the crumpled map from portrait to landscape, and back again. “I’m an excellent navigator, but when the tools I have are faulty…”.

You grumbled, stopping your walk to sit on a fallen log. You sighed audibly at your best friend, still maneuvering in the small clearing in the forest, trying to match the map to where you were. You chanced a look at the sky as you sought to catch your breath and sate your anger. Dark, heavy clouds were forming, the kind that didn’t just indicate a sprinkle but a torrential downpour.

“Shit, Jin. It’s going to storm soon,” you warned.

He stopped his map seeking and glanced at the sky, frown buried deep in his face.

Instantly, as if it never changed, he returned to his bright and cheery demeanor.

“Well! Looks like we should work faster to make it back to camp, huh?”

Seokjin would be excited for an unexpected kink in your plans. The boy was obsessed with “roughing it”. You agreed to one weekend with minimal hiking. Camping, in your opinion, was meant to be spent drunk around a fire eating s’mores and telling scary stories, not walking for miles through nothing but trees, mud, and probably bears.

Camping had never been your favorite hobby, and you allowed Seokjin to take you off trail backpacking once per year. The man looked forward to it, planned it several months in advance, and counted down the days until he stuffed you in his Jeep down a deserted forest highway to the campsite.

Only, Jin never took the “minimal hiking” thing too seriously.

“It’s an easy hike,” he had promised you that morning as you set up camp. “More of a stroll than anything.”

You kicked at the dirt beneath you now, upset you had listened to the dark-haired man’s empty promises.

“How about we just go back the way we came from?” You suggested as you stood up and brushed the dirt off your backside from the log.

“Nonsense,” he sniffed. “I’ve got it right here. We can take this trail,” he gestured at a clearing through the trees, “for about a mile, turn left at the open valley, and we’ll be back at camp two miles after that!” He proclaimed his findings as if it were so easy, so obvious.

“Great, three miles of hiking. After we’ve already done four, at least.”

“Yes, my ever-positive sunshine, you should be happy I found us a shortcut.” He patted your head and smiled at you as he adjusted your backpack strap that was sliding off your shoulders. He lingered, eyes on you and your lips for just a fraction too long, before he turned and began leading you through the forest.

Your heart was racing, unrelated to the elevation or the hike.

You gave in so easily to Jin not because he was your best friend since childhood, but also because he was the man you were hopelessly in love with.

You’d been smitten with the older boy since your senior year of high school, when he jokingly asked you to prom and you realized you wanted Seokjin courting you to be a regular occurrence.

You stayed by his side through it all, all girlfriends and breakups. It hurt to watch him with another, but maintaining his friendship was more important than anything else and you weren’t about to lose him to a crush that you could easily just avoid.

Seokjin was attached to your hip, a fact your friends never let you live down. They were relentless in encouraging you two to be alone, and for you to admit your feelings to him. They told you they were sure he would reciprocate it.

Unbeknownst to them, you had admitted it.

You and Jin once got messy drunk on the floor of your apartment, where you slithered up into his lap and whispered your secret devotion to your best friend. Seokjin merely laughed and kissed your nose. You were so embarrassed and rejected you never brought it up again. Best to leave it be, rather than bring a 15 year friendship to a screeching halt.

So—you valiantly stood by him as his best friend and confidante. You were there when he excitedly told you about his new girlfriend, or when he called you crying over their breakup. Your heart twinged at both; you wanted to be the reason for his excitement and the balm to his wounded heart.

You allowed Seokjin to take you on all his wild adventures. Like now—traipsing through the forest with no direction in sight, because you would have done nearly anything for the boy.

A crack of thunder shook you from your thoughts and you jumped at the sudden sound.

“Ah, so cute,” he smiled at you, “still afraid of thunder?”

You blushed and pouted. “It just surprised me, is all.”

He smirked as if to say he didn’t believe you and nodded. “We should get a move on, don’t want to get caught in the rain.”

You shivered at the thought. It was already cool in the forest; the trees providing enough coverage it locked out any sun, if there had been any. You quickly moved in step behind your best friend. It only took a few minutes of silence before the telltale pitter patter of droplets on leaves began. A fat raindrop landed on your forehead.

“Fuck,” you groaned. “It’s starting.”

“I know,” Jin suddenly looked worried, his confident demeanor cracking. He looked back at you and tightened the straps on his backpack.

“Let’s run?”

You were powerless to deny any request from him. Plus, you didn’t really feel like getting drenched.

You adjusted your own backpack and took off, running through the quickly dampening forest beside Seokjin.

The rain came in a downpour. It hit you hard, blurring your vision. Seokjin slipped his hand into yours, not wanting to lose you in the storm. You pushed your legs in time with his, jumping around fell logs and rocks and skipping large puddles.

You were drenched as Seokjin pulled you into a makeshift canopy of rocks, a momentary pause from the storm to catch your breath. Your hair was soaking wet, as if freshly showered. Seokjin’s hair stuck to his face, and you smiled as he looked at you with concern. It only took a moment until you were both bursting with laughter, finding humor at the moment.

It was something you loved about Seokjin. He always knew how to make you laugh in times it seemed impossible.

“This sucks,” you spoke through your joyful laughter. He nodded in agreement.

“I think we’re almost back. We need to turn soon, and then we’ve got about two more miles. You ready?”

You agreed and pushed back the slick hair in your eyes, before doing the same for him. His eyes sparkled. You didn’t know what it meant.

In an instant, you were running again. The backpack bounced against your back and rain pounded your body. The things you did for Kim Seokjin. You were whipped, and you knew it.

The trail seemed like it went on forever. You both became so tired of running that you slowed and trudged slowly through mud as rain pelted you, accepting your fate of soaking to the bone. You were sure you had never been this drenched in your life. Your clothes were stuck to your body and dripping down into your shoes and socks. Your teeth chattered in the breeze—it felt as if the wind whipped right through you. The sky rumbled again, as if warning you to hurry lest it dump more rain on you.

Seokjin was always the caring companion. He rubbed your shoulders and arms to warm them up and promised a roaring fire. You hated how much it made your heart burst.

You were very much looking forward to your one-man tent, stocked with a sleeping bag and blankets. You could strip down and dry off and slip into the warmth of your own personal nest.

Seokjin waxed poetic about his own spacious tent—a lofty family sized one, and how he made sure he brought his sleeping bag along with 8 thick blankets, and how he couldn’t wait to snuggle down into his own. Seokjin was the picture of preparedness. He even kept a locking box full of snacks in his tent because the boy was a foodie and couldn’t survive without the treats. It came in handy.

“What would you do if we were stuck out here forever?” You posed to your best friend, curious about his response and desperate to pass the time as you hiked.

“Well,” he thought aloud. “I’d miss the guys. But I’d be happy to be stuck out here with you.”

Your cheeks flushed.

“You wouldn’t miss, ah—what’s her name? Miya?”

Seokjin shrugged. “She’s fun. She’s not you, though.”

You couldn’t help but grumble internally. She was good enough to date, and you weren’t. She was different in some respect.

“Are things not going well with her?” You asked, secretly hoping they weren’t.

“It’s fine. She’s nice and all,” he sighed. “Just, there’s no spark there, you know?”

You knew all too well. Any man you tried to date paled compared to your best friend, and the fireworks behind your every heartbeat when you were near him.

“What about you?” He was peering into your eyes and into what felt like your soul. “You and Jungkook sure seem cozy.” His tone sounded annoyed, sarcastic even.

You couldn’t help but bark a laugh.

“Oh god, no,” you shook your soggy head. “Not my type. We’re good friends and that’s it. Plus, I’m sure he’s into Jimin.”

Seokjin shrugged again. “You sit on his lap and cuddle up to him all the time…”

“Are you jealous?” You smirked, nudging the man. Please, god, please be jealous.

“N-No!” He was sharp. “I’m not.”

Ouch.

You remained silent, eyes downcast at your muddy boots as you walked alongside the man.

“Sorry,” he mumbled after a beat of silence.

“Don’t worry about it, Seokjin. I got it—loud and clear.”

Seokjin looked hurt, a wave of dissatisfaction crossing his features. He wanted to say something, mouth opening to continue his apology. You ignored it wholly. He knew your feelings. There was no way he couldn’t remember that night. You pushed ahead of the man, walking in front of him to avoid his pained gaze and likely hurried apology.

The light of day was leaving. Everything around you was steadily getting darker, and the rain showed no sign of giving up. You silently begged to be back to the safety of your camp soon, lest you become walking mountain lion bait.

“There’s camp!” Seokjin finally pointed and ran through the rain ahead of you.

“Oh thank fuck,” you sighed, feeling as if it lifted a weight from your shoulders. You couldn’t wait to strip out of your soaking clothes and slither into your blankets.

“Oh shit,” Seokjin whispered, stopping where he stood. You followed his gaze, concerned about what stopped the boy so quickly.

Your tent was ripped open, the insides of it exposed to the wind and rain. Everything you owned was soaking wet. You had set it up in a clearing with not too many trees above it, and it appeared the lack of protection against the wind and rain tore the poor fabric to shreds.

A worn-out and distraught sob left your lips.

“No!”

You ran to the tent and nearly cried. Fortunately, beyond just being soaking wet and useless for the night, everything was intact. There was only no warmth to be had. No warm clothes to change into. Nothing.

“What the fuck am I going to do?!”

Seokjin placed a hand on your shoulder.

“You can share with me?” He sounded hopeful. “We can hang your clothes to dry and when the storm passes, we can build a fire and let your tent air out. But you should probably sleep in my tent tonight.”

You bit your lip. You had slept with Seokjin in more beds than you could count, always being forced to share a bed as the designated ‘best friends who don’t care’. And it was never easy for you. You always woke up with the delicious scent of his cologne and shampoo, and your body curled around his. His hardness would always be pressed up against you, and it took all you had not to wrap your mouth around it to wake him up.

“Yeah, thanks Seokjin,” you breathed. “I’m fucking freezing. And I’m tired. I just want to get some sleep.”

Seokjin slipped his backpack off and pulled yours off your frame. He hung them from a sturdy branch, protected by layers of trees overhead, to let them dry.

“I have some towels in my tent, go on in. You can get dry and hand me your wet clothes to hang. Then you can get in the blankets and I’ll make us something to eat.”

You blushed. Seokjin hadn’t seen you fully naked, ever; at least not since you were toddlers.

Slipping into his blankets while stark nude would be a dream. It was something you fantasized about more than you’d care to admit. But, in the current conditions, being naked and clammy in the blankets next to your best friend who didn’t return any feelings for you sounded more like an awkward moment waiting to happen.

If Seokjin noticed anything, he didn’t show it. He acted as if making you strip in his tent was a normal thing, nothing out of the ordinary.

“I’ll wait out here,” he nodded dutifully.

You slipped out of your muddy boots and socks, and into his tent. It was nice and spacious, and the blankets looked incredibly enticing. It was kind of Seokjin to let you stay with him, even kinder that he would remain soaking wet to make you something to eat. Your body felt so worn out and drained, and you were sure he did too.

You peeled the wet clothing off of you, every bit, before sticking your head out the door and handing him the clothes.

“Don’t worry about food, okay? You should get dry too.”

He wrinkled his forehead.

“You sure?”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“I’m sure. Plus, we have your snacks.”

“Ah, good thinking,” he shot his finger guns at you. “I’ll be there in a minute, then. Hand me a towel and I’ll get undressed out here.”

You shyly handed him a towel, now very aware that you and Seokjin would be in the same tent—naked. The thought thrilled you as much as it scared you.

It didn’t take long to burrow yourself into his freshly made bed roll, sliding into the neat layers. Seokjin was nearly military in his routine and order. Everything was always tucked, pressed, and laid down perfectly.

Your body wracked with shivers and chills—the blankets and sleeping bag were cold from the ambient air outside. You folded yourself together in a fetal position to maintain some warmth. It felt good to lie down on the soft bed mat, but the blankets were doing nothing to provide warmth.

The sound of the zipper opening the front door flap of the tent made you shake harder. You could feel the wind blow through the opening now. The sound of the storm was loud, and you were grateful for the heavy tarp covering Seokjin’s tent. It provided some respite from the wind and kept all water off the tent. At least Seokjin had been smart in his setup. You ignored the man’s suggestions to set up better, and you were fully regretting it now.

Seokjin had the towel wrapped around his waist and stepped about the tent easily. He dabbed at his upper body with a smaller towel from his suitcase and rubbed his hair dry. The normally perfectly coiffed head was now static-y and sticking up wildly. It would have made you laugh if you weren’t so cold.

Seokjin moved around you and slid into the blankets, leaving a large space between you, before he threw the towel around his waist onto the floor. He was naked now; you noted internally. You both were. A shiver ran down your spine, unrelated to the relentless chill.

It was silent. All you could hear was the beating of the rain on the tarp and your teeth chattering as you shivered.

Seokjin stole a look at you, finally, and noticed your position, holding yourself to build warmth.

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked.

“I’m j-j-just col-l-ld,” you whispered. “And t-t-tired.”

Seokjin didn’t reply, but you heard the scratching sound of a moving sleeping bag and rustling of blankets and suddenly felt a very warm, very naked body pressed against you. It was blissful, and you moaned out loud at the feel of him spooning you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. You didn’t know what for, and couldn’t bring yourself to reply.

You burrowed yourself down into his warmth and felt his arms wrap around you, securing you against him. He radiated heat. He felt like heaven. Your eyes closed—he had you feeling like you had stepped into a delicious sauna.

Seokjin’s muscular arms hadn’t moved an inch since they wrapped around you, but now his hands slowly rubbed at your torso, warming you everywhere his hand dragged. It felt electrifying and your body relaxed easily under his delicate fingertips.

It started out innocent, rubbing along your stomach and side to warm you further. But his hand began straying north, reaching the crest of your breasts. Your breath hitched as he rubbed over the cold swells. Your nipples were hard from the chill and pebbled even further with the touch of his hands. It made a gasp stick in your throat.

His lips touched your neck, lightly. They were warm too. It seemed his entire body was twenty degrees warmer than your own, and every touch felt like a raging flame. His hands continued rubbing along your breasts as he laved and sucked.

at the column of your throat.

As instantly as it began, Seokjin stopped. His hands hovered above your breasts.

He pressed kisses to your neck and face. “We should sleep, babe,” he sighed.

You wanted to protest, to push him further, to take care of what he started, but you couldn’t find the energy. Seokjin’s warmth matched with the comfort of his bedroll, and the soothing rise and fall of his breath was lulling you into sleep. Even though it was still early evening, the hike and the run back to safety took it all out of you.

Seokjin’s arms felt like safety. He secured them around you, slipping just underneath your breasts where his thumb could trace alongside the bottom as you easily succumbed to sleep.

It was still dark when you woke.

The rain was still coming down, light this time. It sounded relaxing, soothing. Seokjin was still spooning you, sleeping soundly behind you. You twisted in his grasp to gaze at him.

His hair was dry now, sticking out randomly about his pillow. You were sure if he saw it he’d panic, normally so precise with his looks. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, none of his chaotic energy and dramatic charisma.

You loved every facet of Seokjin. You loved the flamboyance, the sensitivity, the deep compassion for his friends.

You turned around, as gently and quietly as you could, and pressed a hand to his cheek—rubbing at the warm and soft flesh. He sighed softly in his sleep, moving against his pillow. An eye cracked open, and he stared at you.

“Why are you awake?” He whispered, his voice gentle. “It’s still dark.”

He was confused, and the look that graced his features was adorable. You wanted to photograph it and frame it, make it the lock screen of your phone.

You shook your head.

“Don’t know.”

Seokjin’s hand rubbed at your shoulder, then up to your face. He tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled at you.

“You look so cute in the moonlight.”

You closed your eyes, letting his compliment wash over you. You couldn’t find the words to reply. You let him continue caressing your cheek, feeling as if you were living a fantasy where Seokjin touched you like a lover.

You were so close to him, chest pressing against his own. Something about the quiet storm, the dark tent, had you disregarding any embarrassment you should have felt pressing your naked tits to the man's chest, but the spell of the forest had you pressing closer. Your lips were inches apart, and you could feel his breath on your lips.

The feel of Seokjin’s lips pressing against yours was light, but felt as if all the fireworks in the world exploded behind your eyes and within your belly. It started sweet, gentle. You kissed him like you always wanted to, full of unrequited love and unwavering desire. Your arms slithered around his neck, pulling him even closer against you.

The kiss turned deeper, mouths opening to allow the passage of tongues. He sought into your mouth, caressing yours with his own, pouring what felt like his very spirit into you. His hand left your back and slid up your sides to press against your breast.

“Seokjin,” you murmured, feeling your brain swirl headily. “Feels good.”

He didn’t reply, only kept kissing at your neck and pinching gently at your hardened nipples. It made you cry out, gaping at the slight pain.

“If you want me to stop, tell me.”

His words were gentle. His hands stilled, stopping all ministrations against you.

Your breath was hard and shaky, matching the erratic beat of your heart in your ribcage. Your unrequited crush of years was now roaming your body, touching you as a lover rather than a friend.

“Please, don’t stop.”

He was on you again, now bloodthirsty for any part of your skin to touch. He tugged at your nipples, suckled up your neck to kiss and lick at the shell of your ears. You pressed against him, gasping at the feel of his now stiff cock. He circled his hips, relishing in the feel of you against him. You wondered how he would feel inside you. He was thick and long—it would be a stretch, and a most delicious and welcome one.

He pressed you back against the pillow, hovering over your body as he kissed down your neck and sucked at the pressure points there. A pleasured sigh passed through your open lips, reveling in the feel of him on your skin. It was something you dreamed about often. It felt unreal to finally have it.

You were on display for him, and his eyes raked over you as if you were a Dalí in the Louvre. His hands slid up to cup your breasts, and you tilted your head back to moan. You didn’t care at all about how you looked, how this might be awkward in the next few hours. You cared only about feeling Seokjin within you, getting him off, succumbing to your own pleasure wrought by his hands and his cock.

“Fuck, babe,” he sighed. “Wanted this for a while.”

“Me too,” you gasped as he slid a finger down to your core, circling faintly over your slick folds.

“Have you?”

“Seokjin, I’ve been in love with you since high school.”

Seokjin closed his eyes and smiled, breathing through his nose in contentment.

“You weren’t just saying that when you were drunk then.”

You shook your head, and Seokjin opened his eyes to peer at you.

“No, Seokjin,” you whispered needily, his finger still so torturously close to your clit. “I meant it.”

He leaned down with a smile and planted gentle kisses on your cheeks, adoring and gentle.

“I’ve been in love with you too. I thought you were just drunk. I never acted on it because I didn’t want to get my heart broken.”

He pulled up and allowed his free hand to cup your cheek.

“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?” He asked. “Like, really fucking hard. You good with that?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. A deep, hearty chuckle passed between both of you, enamored with each other and the situation of being naked and intertwined together, the warmth of your matched confessions surrounding you.

“Fuck me, please,” you begged.

And Seokjin would be loath to deny you.

His teasing finger finally slid into your core, fucking into you with ease from your slick walls. You gasped at the welcome intrusion, eyes fluttering closed as he began a slight pace and watched the way you fell apart.

“So pretty,” he whispered. “So fucking pretty.”

He slipped another finger in, scissoring them open as he worked at you. Your legs trembled, and it made the older man smirk.

“Look at you,” he praised. “So easily turned into a *gushing* puddle for me.”

You nodded pathetically, back arching as he added yet another finger and pressed at the spot inside you that had your mind spinning and thoughts erasing.

“Oh—God, Jin!”

As much as Jin wanted to see you get off around his fingers, he was desperate for more. You were finally all his—something he’s wanted since he could remember. All he’s wanted was for you to be his.

He pulled his fingers from inside you and smiled as they came out slicked up with your own essence. He ensured you made eye contact with him, then popped them into his mouth one-by-one, to suck them clean.

It made your mouth nearly fall to the floor as you watched him suck his fingers clean of you. Your body trembled with a need you hadn’t felt before. It was stronger than anything you’d felt before. It was unadulterated desire for Seokjin.

“Mm,” he sighed happily as he pulled the final digit from his mouth. “Delicious, as I thought.”

“Oh, my god,” you gaped. “Jin…,”

The man merely shook his head and smiled, crowding you down and hovering over your lips.

“You’re mine now, you got that?”

His eyes tracked yours, watching your every movement. It took you a moment to swallow your nerves, to regain any ounce of confidence.

“I’ve always been yours, Seokjin.”

He held you down, watching you with a gleam of wonder in his eye, before surging forward and planting his lips onto yours. His tongue dove in instantly, seeking solace in the warmth of your mouth. Allowing him passage was easy, almost natural. Jin’s tongue swirled around your own as your arms slithered around his neck to bring him closer. Kissing Jin felt like everything you’d imagine it would be, and yet like nothing you could have even dreamed.

Jin didn’t just kiss you—he consumed you. He lapped his tongue into your mouth like he couldn’t get close enough to you. His chest pressed against your body and he groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your perky breasts pushing into his own broad chest.

“Baby,” he whispered as he pulled away.

It sounded like a dream—the pet name fell from Jin’s lips so easily, as if it were always meant to be spoken to you.

“You’ve always been the one I wanted,” he breathed as he pressed his lips down your neck. “Always the girl I wanted and could never have.”

“Jin,” you gasped as your fingers carded through his hair. “Jin, you’ve always had me.”

He lifted his head and peered deep into your eyes again, so deep it felt like he was glimpsing into your soul.

“I only want you. No one else.”

It knocked you breathless, and it took a moment for you to refill your lungs before nodding.

“I’m all yours.”

There was acknowledgement in both your admissions. An understanding that there was no more separation of you, and of Jin. That after tonight, it would be a partnership, and the beginnings of something more, something you’ve only dreamt of with the older man.

“Mine,” he whispered, before pressing his lips back to yours.

The kiss was sweet, nearly cloyingly sweet, as his hands cupped your face. He kissed you with every intention, every desperate plea he’s held in his heart for you.

Jin’s length pressed against you—his hips rutting minutely as he kissed you.

“Jin,” you gasped as you pulled away from his lip locked embrace. “Please, I need you.”

Jin’s charming smile spread across his lips, blooming your heart along with it.

“As you wish,” he whispered as he pressed in for another soft kiss..

Instantly, Jin flipped around and switched positions, guiding you to sit atop his hips while he settled down into the mess of blankets and pillows.

“What?” He asked as he noticed your confusion at the sudden mood change, a smirk rising on his puffy lips. “You think I’m gonna let you lay back and make me do all the work?”

There he was, your Seokjin. Never able to keep a comment to himself, regardless of the situation—always working to make you laugh. It made your heart sing.

His hands slid to grip at your hips while you lifted yourself up to hover over his hardened length, lining up the tip to just graze the wetness there.

“You see what you do to me?” You asked with a coy smile. “You see how badly I want you?”

Jin bit his lip, mesmerized by the way your cunt slicked up the head of his cock, desperate to spear into you but holding back.

“Fuck—,” he breathed. “P-Prove it.”

A smirk crossed your features before you took the plunge and allowed his length to slip inside you as you sank to his hips. The intrusion was welcome, and you gaped at the sensation of him plunging deep.

“Oh, my God!” Jin gasped as you had taken him to the hilt. His eyes bulged for a moment before they closed in bliss. “You feel so fucking good.”

You didn’t need to speak. The feeling of Jin’s thick length inside of you was more than enough agreement. He felt so thick, so long, prodding at the spot inside you that had you weak and stretching you wide to make you gasp at the sizzle of pain. After a moment of adjusting to his size, you let your hands fall to his chest as you began to slowly rise and fall and set a pace on his cock.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he whined—eyes wide open and watching you bounce on him. “Shit, this is where you belong.”

You eagerly pinched at your nipples as your pace quickened, nodding at Jin’s encouraging words. Your mouth felt dry, and you felt unable to even vocalize your pleasure beyond your loud sighs and moans.

“Jin,” you breathed.

He nodded, assisting your pace by gripping your hips. He tugged you down, face to face, to rest on his chest while your hips kept their quick speed of enveloping his cock in your tight heat. He let a hand cup the side of your face, the other moving to grip your ass.

“You’re all fucking mine,” he grunted as he thrusted his cock up into you, matching the rhythm of your rise and fall. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good every day, baby.”

You nodded quickly, heartbeat rising as you quickened each pound. Jin’s lips pressed to yours again, this time messier, hotter. He licked into your mouth, desperate for any more of you he could consume.

“Fuck, you drive me fucking crazy,” he said, cock still thrusting deep inside you. “Let me fuck you from behind?”

You didn’t bother replying, simply removing yourself from his body and assuming the position on your hands and knees. Jin scrambled to line up behind you, hand pumping his slick cock as he marveled at the sight of you presented for him.

“Take me, please,” you whispered, turning your head to peer at him with a desperate smile. “Fuck me until I can’t see straight.”

Jin hissed an expletive, before lining himself up in your sodden folds and plunging in without a second thought. Your eyes widened at the new angle, gasping as you felt it hit different areas inside of you that had you squeaking with each hard thrust of his cock.

Jin’s hands gripped your ass, your hips, anywhere he could leave his brutal fingerprints.

“God, you take my cock like a fucking queen,” he gasped as the sound of skin slapping echoed around the tent. “Look at your pussy, so fucking wet for me.”

He marveled at the way his cock plunged deep inside you, then came out covered in your creamy slick.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna let me claim this pussy with my cum?”

The pleasure was overwhelming—it felt like every nerve ending was lit on fire, and you were a burning fuse about to detonate into a thousand brilliant explosions. Each thrust of Jin’s thickness had you crying for more, moans echoing off the trees outside. You were suddenly thankful you were in the middle of nowhere, allowing you to be loud and needy.

Jin reveled in your desperate sighs and the way your body pushed back against his to match his pace. He knew his end was coming, knew it was going to be short-lived from the start. He’s wanted your body for as long as he could remember, and wanted you in his life as his lover, his girlfriend, more than just what he had been relegated to for so long.

“Mm, baby, you look so good on your knees for me, fuck,” he gasped as his speed increased. “I can’t wait to make you cum on my cock every fucking day, love. This is my pussy now.”

Jin’s possession of your body made you see stars, vision blurring as your cunt tightened its grip around his cock. Jin gasped at the grip and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned. “I feel you, baby, fuck. Cum for me, angel. Let me feel this tiny little cunt milk me.”

The coil inside you was tightening, pulling tight and making you gasp and scream at the oncoming rush. Jin’s pounding was relentless, making your entire body shake with the anticipation.

Your hand dipped to circle at your clit, the ultimate piece to your end.

The coil snapped, and your cunt pulsated wildly around his cock, vice-grip tight. It felt as if you had been catapulted off into space, vision blurring and all sound indiscernible from the blood rushing in your ears.

Jin’s climax quickly overtook him at the feeling of your delicious heat gripping at his cock. With just a few strokes inside you, his cock pulsed hot stripes of cum within you and painted your channel. Something primal in Seokjin loved that he was within you now, a piece of him deposited inside.

He allowed a few moments to pass to catch his breath, before slowly easing his spent cock from your dripping walls. He groaned as he watched a bit of his seed drip out, and he was careful to collect it on his fingers.

“Come here,” he whispered as he pressed his chest to your back and lifted you upright, sitting on your knees. He presented his fingers to your lips, dripping with your combined slick, and wrapped his free arm around your stomach.

Obediently, you opened your mouth and allowed the man to swirl his cum-coated digits in your mouth. It made your stomach erupt in butterflies, the taste of you and the man you’ve only dreamt about for years now on your tongue.

A crack of thunder shook you from your silent reverie, and Jin removed his fingers from his mouth before wrapping both arms around you and tugging you down to lie face to face on the mused sleeping bags.

“Now, aren’t you glad we did this?” He asked with a chuckle and a kiss to your nose.

You wrinkled your brow and smiled coyly.

“I would have enjoyed it more if you hadn’t gotten us lost.”

Jin pouted and huffed.

“I didn’t get us lost,” he sniffed with indignation. “The map was wrong.”

#bts smut #kim seokjin #seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #ficswithluv #kim seokjin smut #jin smut #bts fan fic #bts imagines #bts fic #bangtanarmynet

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heartcal · 3 years

Text

“who do you believe?”; l.h. (pt. ii)

oh my GOD it’s here, it took longer than expected but she’s finally here! after the eye strain i got a sty so that threw me in for a loop, but the good news is my eyes are better! and i’m fully vaccinated too! please get the vaccine if you are able to :^) enjoy!

a/n: (formatting again lol) there’s a part where there’s supposed to be texts (in italics) so it may be a bit weird to read (hopefully not) (sorry for these parantheses) please let me know if there’s anything off!

pairing: luke hemmings x reader

summary: having known luke for years, it was bound to happen eventually. the crush you developed happened before you could stop it, and you did your best to keep it a secret. you told no one, did your best not to show it, so what do you do when his girlfriend finds out?

warnings: swearing (as usual),

genre: angst, fluff, basically friends (to brief enemies but not really) to lovers?

wc: 5,201 (they’re getting longer, huh)

taglist: @1sosrvd1267 + @wowitsel (side note: i don’t have a current taglist, this is just for this fic!)

part one | my masterlist!

You skipped the after-party that night. You couldn’t bear standing in the same room as Luke and Rachel, so you booked a ride and left as soon as the car pulled up.

Had you stayed for the party, you would have crumbled under the looks of pity thrown at you by those who would have heard about what happened. The knowing looks that something bad had happened between two people everyone on the crew knew were best friends would have been uncomfortable.

The ride home is uncomfortably silent, but you were thankful the driver wasn’t the talkative type. The soft jazz playing on the radio wasn’t calming but it did distract you from the pain and embarrassment you felt from the argument.

Once the car had pulled up to your place, you bid a silent farewell to the driver and slid out.

You just wanted to get inside, take a shower, shut your phone for the night, and sleep until you physically can’t get any more sleep.

You’re not too surprised Luke stood up for his girlfriend. He does love her—he’s shown that with friends and with fans. But the way he glared at you, defended her without trying to find out what exactly went down…he had never looked at you like that.

You’ve seen that look before; it wasn’t something you were used to but it was the look he would give paparazzi when they would harass you, the guys, and his friends. The glare carried such strength that it would make people back off. And so when it was directed towards you, it struck you hard.

Having done what you wanted to do once you entered the house, you lay in bed with wet eyes staring at the ceiling. Your phone was face down on your nightstand, completely out of reach to the point one slight touch could knock it off.

Maybe you were the one at fault. Maybe you should’ve told the truth about your feelings to Rachel or Luke before this all happened. It could have prevented the fallout and you would be with the guys and the crew celebrating a successful show.

But what good would that have done? Had you told someone, anyone, that you liked Luke more than a best friend should, would that have caused the same problem but presented differently? Or would something come from it? Maybe nothing would have happened.

A sigh escapes your lips as you turn your back away from the nightstand, facing the empty half of the bed and before your mind drifts to more pitiful thoughts, you close your eyes.

You didn’t dream that night. It’s as if you blinked, with the night flying by faster than you had wanted and anticipated.

The sunlight beamed down on you from above your headboard. It was late morning and it was time to face the harsh reality of the day.

There is no doubt you have lost Luke as your best friend.

Wiping the sleep and crust from your eyes, you sit up and vacantly glance around the room. The box where you keep gifts from Luke is illuminated by the sunlight, and with the vacant stare you stand to walk towards it.

You hesitate to open it; it’ll bring back memories of good times and with the events of the previous night, you do not think you can handle the rush of emotions.

It’s then when you realize your phone was off, and though you don’t want to do anything social today and would rather stay home with your favorite snacks and shows, you know you have to let your friends know how you’re doing.

You stall by washing your face and brushing your teeth, albeit slower than usual. You know that once you turn your phone on, the onslaught of questions and missed calls are going to take possibly an hour to clear up.

Sure enough, as you turn your phone on, the missed messages come in, barely giving your notification tone a break and the missed calls and voicemails were coming in fast. You can feel the heat from the battery on your palm, and for the sake of the phone you switch the sound off and turn on Do Not Disturb to prevent any new calls from coming through.

The messages you saw were from the crew, asking where you went and if you were okay. Others were from the boys minus Luke, and looking through the missed calls, there was nothing from Luke.

You’re not surprised, but the pain was still simmering within and seeing no messages or missed calls from him was adding to it.

You responded to the crew’s messages first, since many of them sent one or two messages asking simple questions: “Are you okay,” “Where did you go,” and “Did you get home safe?”

Then you responded to the boys’, Michael’s first since he had the least amount of messages.

hey, you didn’t have to leave. we could’ve talked some sense into him when he calmed down (11:37pm)

did u get home okay? we know you didn’t drive here yourself. (11:58pm)

please let us know you made it home. let us know you’re okay (12:10am)

hope you made it home and that you’re safe and okay. thank u for ur work today. please text me when you see these. goodnight (12:49am)

You typed your reply to him, letting him know that you were okay and got home safe.

Calum’s messages were similar, asking the same questions but some were repeated to emphasize his worry. In response, you answered his questions like Michael’s.

But even before you can open Ashton’s messages, seeing double digits next to your conversation with him, rapid knocks on your front door grab your attention.

With a groan you stand and grab your robe from the hook on the door, wrapping it tightly around your body as you open the door and groggily walk to the front door.

It was a stupid idea, as you weren’t ready to face anyone yet Ashton stands in front of you. He’s well-rested, a stark contrast to you as you were sure your eyes were still puffy and bloodshot, along with an occasional sniffle from your nose.

His eyes travel from your face, down to your feet, and back up to your eyes. He can immediately tell you had a terrible night.

“You weren’t answering anyone last night,” he begins, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes, “we were worried about you after you left.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I just—I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“You could’ve let one of us know that you were shutting off.”

You nodded with a frown, “I could have, yeah,” your eyes dart around behind him to avoid his worrisome eyes before asking him if he wanted to come in.

He doesn’t hesitate and steps in once you move aside, opening the door wider to give him enough room. He notes your bag in a heap on the floor a few inches away from the couch, and how your shoes were far apart, with one upside down, as if you flung them off.

“How are you holding up now?”

You shrug, still avoiding his eyes because you know if you make eye contact, you’ll break down and you won’t have control over the onslaught of emotions.

“Be honest,” his voice is soft, wanting to make you feel comfortable enough to open up.

You stare at the ground, biting the skin of your lower lip nervously. This is why you did not want to talk to anyone face-to-face. Talking to them over the phone, preferably through text, allowed you to lie to the other person (and if applicable, to yourself). But talking to someone in person, and to someone who can see through your lies, you were bound to break down and become vulnerable.

You inhale, taking careful steps to the couch and gently sitting down with a sigh. Ashton follows you, sitting next to you but giving you space to not overwhelm you.

“What happened last night—,” you lean back with your arms folded over your chest, “—was something that I feared. When I realized I liked Luke, I was so worried about him finding out and what the outcome would be. I knew from the beginning that things would never be the same if he found out, and I was afraid of the change that would come from it.”

Ashton listens intently, his eyes displaying sincerity as he listens to you list off your worries. What he saw last night bothered him to no end, and had he not exerted most of his energy during the show, he would not have slept at all and would have stayed up all night in a constant state of worry.

“So, now that Rachel knows, and no doubt Luke has caught on, I don’t know what to do. I responded to everyone’s texts before you arrived, and Luke sent nothing—not even a phone call.”

Ashton nods, swallowing before speaking, “Well, after you left, things went down that may be the reason why he hasn’t tried contacting you.”

Your head turns to face him, eyebrows furrowed as confusion embeds itself across the rest of your features.

Ashton readjusts himself, getting comfortable in his seat as he gathers the right words.

“Something happened after I left?” You ask as you shift in your seat to face him.

“Michael wanted to go after you, to at least offer you a ride back, but Calum went back to tell Luke that it was bullshit what happened. So, Michael went back to make sure they wouldn’t fight or anything. I also pointed out that he was a dick; choosing you over her when he’s known you the longest didn’t sit right with us. But he got defensive and kept wanting to leave but Rachel convinced him it was alright, so they stayed for the party. But the party was bad—the crew felt the tension and the vibes were down—,” he chuckles at the word choice, getting a small laugh out of you as well, “—it brought everyone out of the energetic and ecstatic mood we were in before the confrontation. We all kinda did our own thing during the party but we noticed things were tense between Luke and Rachel. And when the party ended, shit hit the fan.”

“What happened?”

Ashton sighs, “To make the long story short, they got into an argument when we were leaving the venue after Michael brought up your name. He said something like, ‘I hope they got home safe,’ and that you weren’t answering your phone at all. Calum and I pointed out, again, how rude Luke was to you and Luke kept defending himself. Rachel dropped an insult and something shifted. Basically, they’re done and the guys and I can finally fucking breathe.”

“Wait—,” you stand with bulging eyes, “—wait, are you saying they broke up?”

Ashton hums as he watches you mindlessly walk around your living room.

The guys have been waiting for their break-up. It’s not something they were open about, as to avoid any conflict with their best friend, but it was almost an unspoken agreement: Rachel was not liked.

As for you, it’s not like you were wishing for their break-up. You wanted Luke to be happy, and if he was happy in that relationship, then so be it. But you were not a fan of it. Yeah, you liked her in the beginning but when she started disregarding you as if you did something to offend her, you lost most of your respect for her. Now, with this news of their break-up, you don’t know what to do.

Are you happy? You don’t exactly feel happy about it, but there is some relief.

“So,” you sit back down on the couch slowly, “what am I supposed to do with this information?”

“Not sure,” Ashton shrugs, “but I recommend talking to Luke.”

You shake your head fervently, “No. I don’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“But you’re talking to me,” Ashton has a smirk, but you know there’s no malice behind his joke.

“You showed up unannounced, Ash,” you smile, “I was responding to everyone who sent messages and voicemails. I don’t feel like talking to anyone else in person.”

He holds his hands up in defense, “Fair enough, but don’t be a stranger.”

He gives you a quick hug, whispering something similar to ‘don’t shut Luke out’ before he pulls away and walks out.

Ashton’s words stuck with you for the next week. You felt comfortable enough a few days after the fact to contact the boys, eventually meeting up with Ashton and Calum for lunch and third-wheeling Michael and his fiancée. The only person out of your friend group and co-workers you have not contacted was Luke. He hasn’t contacted you either, but you do not think much about it as you’re still trying to figure things out. If he were to contact you, how do you talk about what happened?

You want to know why he was able to choose his then-girlfriend over you, but at the same time you don’t want to know the answer. You know that one day, and though it hurts, you will not be his number one. With the way he behaved that night, it felt like that dreadful moment came to earlier than expected, that he found his number one and you immediately became his second go-to person.

So it did surprise you when you were out with an old friend to receive a text from Luke.

Can we talk about what happened? (2:23pm)

You only stare blankly at the text, not even moving to type a response. You were in such a good mood, and not even this text would change it. Instead, you lock your phone and place it back in your pocket, noting to leave it alone until your day out comes to an end.

And when it does, you see that more texts from Luke had arrived, the final being sent an hour before the outing ended.

I know you’re mad, I understand that and I don’t blame you but please talk to me (2:31pm)

You’re reading these, please say something (2:33pm)

There are some things that I need to clear up with you, I want to apologize for what happened that night but I want to do it face to face. Please respond. (3:57pm)

Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be waiting. Sorry if I’m bombarding you with these texts, I just don’t want to lose you over something that I realize now should not have happened. Respond when you want to, I’ll be here. (5:49pm)

You could only let out a small chuckle at the persistent requests to talk, and you don’t deny the small—minuscule, honestly—flutter in your stomach. You don’t waste any time responding.

Sorry, I was busy. We can meet somewhere to talk. (7:08pm)

He responds about five minutes later, agreeing to meet at a small café the two of you love tomorrow afternoon.

The rest of the night for you is spent thinking of ways to carry yourself, being completely confident, and accepting the fact that you love your best friend. Pep talks in the shower and mirror to calm any arising nerves, revising the topics you want to talk about in your head so you keep the confidence.

As for Luke, he was struggling to gather all his thoughts. In the beginning, he thoroughly enjoyed the fact that you and Rachel got along. He liked seeing his best friend and girlfriend become friends like that. He didn’t notice the shift, however, and he wishes he did before things got out of hand.

When he defended Rachel, without finding out the story from all sides, he thought he was doing what was right. To him, friendships and relationships have the same base, but romantic relationships with a partner have a different structure than friendships do, and he was starting to see cracks in his friendship before he saw it in his relationship.

When he confronted Rachel after she insulted you, he started to see someone he never saw. He remembered the times Rachel ignored you, sometimes playing it off as if she never heard you. He remembered how she would make plans with everyone and exclude you, but he always played it off as an accident (even if he knew it wasn’t). He remembered all these times he noticed a change in mood when the two of you were in the same room, and he couldn’t believe he turned a blind eye to all of it.

It hurt him to break-up with Rachel—he won’t deny that because he did love her. It’s not that he saw the rest of his life with her as they weren’t at that mark in the relationship.

But, when he did picture his future, he always saw you. He always thought it was just as a friend, someone who was just joined at the hip. Yet, he was quick to throw that away for someone he rarely saw when he pictured the future.

Which is why, the next day, as he sits at a booth near the window of the café, he carefully goes over what he wants to say. He doesn’t want to ruin the chance to fix things between the two of you. If it goes awry, not only does he lose you, but his friendships with the band and the team will take a hit since they all love you.

The bell above the door rings making his head turn to watch you walk in. Your eyes danced around the café before they fell on him.

He couldn’t help the smile the formed on his lips, a small breath of relief escaping as he watches you walk towards him. The smile doesn’t stay long though, because as you sit down with a stoic expression, the reality hits him.

“I got your usual,” he’s shy and timid, pushing the mug toward you as he eyes the liquid nearly spills the edge.

You mumble a ‘thanks,’ grabbing the mug and taking a small sip. It falls silent as the two of you wonder who should start first.

Luke makes the move first. He sighs, sitting up straight and wiping his palms on his pants.

He’s nervous. When the guys started touring, visiting new cities and countries, he would always be nervous and constantly wiped his hands on his thighs, sitting up straight and even straighter if he wasn’t slouching. It’s an old habit, but something you remember fondly as he had grown out of it. Or so you thought.

“I want to start with I’m sorry,” he begins, making eye contact but fails to hold it. His eyes instead drift to his drink, “I know what I did was wrong, and I put you in a spot that hurt you and disregarded you. At the moment, I thought I was doing the right thing because she was my girlfriend, but then—” he gulps, “when she insulted you, it struck a nerve and, not to sound cliché or anything, it felt like it opened my eyes. I saw someone I didn’t see when I first met them.”

You don’t respond, just nodding your head to let him know you’re listening.

He licks his lips before continuing, “When the guys brought up how you left on your own, I was feeling nervous and they started reminding me how much of a dick I was to you. I didn’t want to admit it myself, but now, I was such an ass. I’m just—I’m so sorry for what happened.”

“Luke,” you sigh, shifting in your seat, “I’m not saying I forgive you but I accept your apology. It hurt me so much that a friend, someone I’ve known for years was just so quick to turn their back and take someone else’s side. I know she was your girlfriend, but I wish you didn’t do what you did.”

“If I could go back and fix it, I would.”

You only nod again, trying to think about other things that need to be talked about. The one topic you hope to avoid is the possibility of him knowing your feelings—something you do not want to discuss, at least not yet.

“Did she say anything to you?”

The question leaves your mouth before you register it, and the widening of your eyes catches Luke off guard.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, grabbing your mug and taking a long sip.

“She didn’t tell me what started the problems between you two, if that’s what you mean,” Luke smiles a bit, watching you nervously play with the mug’s handle after the sip. It fades when your eyes move up to meet his, “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but it isn’t important anymore. She’s out of the picture, and I don’t want to lose you.”

The silence returns, but unlike the previous bout, it’s a calming silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, rather the air is easier to breathe and the tension isn’t unsettling.

“Where do we go from here?” Luke asks, nervously wringing his fingers.

“I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Luke,” you offer a smile, “but it’s going to take some time to ‘heal,’ if you will.”

Luke smiles again, this time a bigger grin. He nods, leaning back in his seat, “Let me know what I can do to make things better. I’ll do it if I get to keep you.”

Over the next few months, your friendship with Luke was rekindled. The guys were at ease now that Rachel was gone and you seemingly had taken her place, even though you were friends. The awkward glances they would give when Rachel was in the same room were now playful rolls of the eyes over a dumb joke or pranks. You didn’t miss out on any outings you wanted to go to, now that everyone invited would check in with each other the night before. Things went back to the way they were before Rachel.

There was a change in your friendship, however. It wasn’t something you noticed right away, but it was something you thought about at night just a few weeks ago. Luke paid more attention to you, not that he didn’t pay attention before, but this was a noticeable change where he still looks at you even after you finished talking, and would only look away from you when you caught him. He would always cover his mouth with his index and middle finger, but you saw a small smile behind them. You played it off as friendly teasing, but it tugs on your heartstrings.

Another noticeable change is the hugs. Duration-wise, they were relatively the same. However the touch lingered; if he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, an arm would stay around your shoulder, meanwhile if they were around your waist, his hand would stay on the small of your back. You played it off as a friend being protective, but yet again, it did nothing to stop your growing love.

Tonight was the first night of their tour. The boys were up to their usual pre-show antics, as well as the nervous habits; Michael fixing his hair and deciding whether to go with a beanie or a hat, or neither, Ashton was warming up with his pre-show playlist, Calum testing his bass, and Luke was relatively fine.

Sure, he was nervous because it isn’t a crowd of 500, close to 20,000, but he was calm compared to the last time he performed. He didn’t have any worries to talk about, his vocal warm-ups were smooth, and getting dressed up was a breeze. He shared chuckles with you as you both watched the others move around with tense expressions (all with no malice, of course).

“You sure you’re not on edge?” you nudge Luke with your arm as he leans forward on the couch your sitting on to fix his shoe.

“Nope,” he sits up, leaning back in his seat.

“Really?” you inquire again, doubt laced in your tone with a hint of teasing.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “if anything I’m excited about tonight.”

You hum, crossing your arms as you watch Ashton walk over.

“Ten minutes left,” he nods at Luke before walking to Michael to tell him the same thing.

You give Luke a look, wanting to get him to admit he is nervous, but all you get is a smirk and a shrug. He stands, patting your shoulder left before walking away to put in his in-ears.

You won’t deny you still don’t have feelings for him. Throughout the past few months, you were able to pinpoint the reasons why you fell for him. The small acts, the obscure things he would remember about you—especially the ones you don’t remember yourself—with the attention he would give you. It was staring you in the face, but you chose to deny all the signals to give yourself the satisfaction of thinking it was just a phase. But now you know why you love him.

Two minutes until showtime, Ashton finishes his speech and the crew is taking their places. The band stands at the opening, waiting for their cue to head out.

As you watched them hype themselves up, you noticed Luke looking around nervously. Of course.

“Nervous?”

His head whips toward you, and you can see it in his eyes.

“A little,” he mumbles, but you don’t hear it over the crowd’s excited screams.

“You got this,” you grab his shoulders to make him look you in the eyes, “like Ash said, you guys worked your asses off for this album. The fans loved it, your shows are all sold out, and you have thousands out there waiting to see you kill it.”

He’s silent, blue eyes staring into yours as they bounce from one eye to the other.

“I love you,” he blurts, loud enough just for you to hear.

You freeze, the grip on his shoulder loosens but remain.

He notices, “She did tell me something that night, and whether or not it’s true, I-I love you.”

“Sixty seconds!” a stage recites in the earpieces.

The boys turn to look at both of you, curious eyes turn into surprise as they watch your expression.

“I don’t know how long, I don’t know when, and I don’t know what it was, but I know for sure.”

Your eyes glance at Ashton briefly, not missing the knowing smile he gives you before you look back into Luke’s eyes.

“I…love you, too,” you respond, gripping his shoulders while your eyes drop down to his shiny shoes.

He doesn’t hear you over the cheers and screams, but reading your lips he knows the answer.

Luke smiles, grabbing the back of your head and kissing your forehead.

He leans down to your ear, “I expect to hear you say it when I come back.”

With flashing lights scattering across the stage, the boys run out to the stage, big smiles gracing their faces for multiple reasons with adrenaline pumping through their veins. From backstage, you watch the show you a smile, feeling high from the brief but fulfilling confession.

It’s two hours later when the show ends. Your heart is pounding as you watch the crew celebrate the successful first show.

Luke pulls you away from the crowd, into the hallway and away from the noise.

“So it was true, what Rachel said?” Luke begins, his hand still holding yours as a shy smile forms.

“What did she say?”

He exhales air through his nose in a laugh, “She said you were in love with me, and that you were trying to break us up.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you look at your intertwined fingers. He squeezes your hand to get your attention.

“I doubt that last part, but the first part I’m hoping is true in a sense.”

Your eyes meet his, adoration swimming in them bringing a smile to your face, “There may be a strong crush I have on you,” you tease, “and it may or may not have turned into love.”

He laughs, letting go of your hand to wrap you in a hug. His head dips down, his forehead on your shoulder as he breathes in your scent. He moves slightly, whispering in your ear, “Say it.”

Your head rested against his chest, hearing his heart beat rapidly and rhythmically.

“I love you,” you whisper.

You feel him smile against your shoulder before he pulls away, his arms resting on your hips as he smiles down at you.

“If you’d like,” he begins, his tone timid now, “that place you like in Seattle has a new dish. It’s our next stop…” he drifts off, hoping you’d catch on to him asking you out.

You do, laughing at how he remembered yet another thing you seem to have forgotten. It was a themed restaurant that had some of the best food you’ve ever eaten, and for days you wouldn’t stop talking about it. But you never went back to it, even during breaks, but somehow he seemed to remember.

“Yes, Luke.”

You know the shock will hit you later that night, that finally the person you’ve fallen for, who happens to be your best friend, admitted his feelings to you. But you’re happy, Luke’s happy, and with the boys’ and crew’s reaction to the two of you walking back to the area where they’re celebrating, the happiness is infectious.

On the road in the tour bus, Ashton passes you as you respond to emails.

“Thanks for not shutting him out,” he says, drinking a small bottle of water from the fridge.

“Did you know?”

He shrugs, avoiding your eyes as he finishes the bottle and tosses it in the recycling bag. “Maybe,” he walks towards the back where the beds are, “maybe not.”

You shake your head, “You did.”

“Didn’t want to spoil it,” he gives you a quick hug before retreating to bed.

Luke walks out of the bathroom shortly after, taking his spot next to you.

“Go to bed,” you slightly shift your shoulder as he lays his head on it, “you need the rest.”

“No,” he mumbles, sleep lacing his tone, “feels like a dream. Don’t wanna wake up.”

You chuckle at his nonsense, finishing off the last email before shutting the laptop and placing it on the counter next to you. You adjust yourself on the couch to have Luke lay down with you. He readjusts himself so he doesn’t crush you, wrapping his arm around your waist and placing his head on your chest.

“I wish I had known before all the drama,” he mumbles again, eyes closed, “I want you in my life, always.”

He drifts off to sleep with that, a faint smile on his lips.

You know what made you fall in love with your best friend. You accept it now, and you’re at peace knowing the feeling is mutual.

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