#THIS BITCH EDIT COST ME SO FUCKING LONG

[delzinrowe]

happy valentine's day ღ to my favourite yuta girlie @just-jordie-things

(insp.)

#ipost #Jujutsu Kaisen #JJK #happy valentine’s day #valentine’s day #Yuta Okkotsu #Yuta #Okkotsu #I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS #THIS BITCH EDIT COST ME SO FUCKING LONG #SO MUCH TIME AND EVEN MORE NERVES #BE HAPPY ABOUT IT #PLS BE HAPPY ABOUT IT

[modelbus]

Hii! Can I request a Tommy x reader (romantic) where they’re just chilling at Tommys apartment together and she jokingly hits him with a pillow and runs off and he catches her and they start play fighting just lots and lots of fluff <33 she/her pronouns or they/them if you want

I am a sucker for fluff... I used a third person POV for this one! Let me know if you like it, or which POV you prefer.

Pairing: Tommyinnit x Female!Reader (romantic)

Fluffy Fighting

"You can edit more in the morning, please get some sleep." She begs.

Tommy, ever persistent on his editing conquest, doesn't even turn his chair around to answer. "I'll be done eventually."

"But at what cost?"

To that he doesn't reply. Although she knew Tommy loved YouTube and Twitch, this was taking it a bit far. Some of his subtitlers went on vacation so he decided to subtitle his video himself, but it was just taking forever. A whole day of editing! That meant she hadn't gotten to spend any actual time with her boyfriend despite having been invited to his apartment.

"You're going to fuck up your sleep schedule." She tries again, but to no avail.

Stubbornness was both a good and a bad trait, for this exact reason.

"I'll fix it eventually." He dismisses.

That's it. Grabbing a pillow from the bed, she stands and quietly approaches him. He doesn't spot her, so she hits him on the head with it.

Immediately, his hands stop moving on the keyboard and mouse. With a swallow, she backs up a few steps and drops the pillow. At least he's spun his chair around?

"Did you just hit me with a fucking pillow?"

"No?"

The way his lips are tugging up into a grin, ruining his fake frown, betray him. See, she knows that look. It was his bad idea look, his "I'm going to drag you into my bad idea look", and in general his mischievous look. So, like any sane person would, she turns tail and runs.

Within seconds she can hear him running after her. The thing about Tommy was that he was tall with long legs, meaning she was absolutely screwed.

“Get back here, bitch!” He yells.

She raises her middle finger in his vague direction, too busy rounding the couch to actually look behind her. When she fakes left he jolts that way, and when he fakes right she jolts the other way.

To her right is a half-finished Lego set, so she grabs a Lego and chucks it at him.

"Hey!" He yells, finding it and throwing it back. "Leave my Legos out of this!" After a second of a weird stand-off, he attempts to hop the couch. It’s more of an awkwardly slow tumble, sending her into laughter.

Unfortunately for her, he recovers quickly. Noticing a second too late she barely turns around before he’s grabbing her wrist and tugging her backwards. Arms wrap around her waist once she’s in range, trapping her in his embrace.

“I am going to suffocate you.” He announces.

“Wait, please, I have a family.”

“Not anymore!”

"I have so much to live for!" She fake sobs.

"Like what, bitch?!"

A small smile grows on her face, her next words glaringly obvious.

"Well, I have this boyfriend named Tommy who I'm pretty sure would like me to live."

"Well what if he doesn't?"

"...fuck. Didn't consider that."

Finally, Tommy laughs and breaks his character.

"Guess my boyfriend won't get kisses from me anymore." She hums, slipping out of his now-relaxed hold.

"Wait." He pouts. "I do want you to live!"

"Oh, in that case..."

She turns around to face him, leaning up for a kiss. After a second she can't help herself, and mumbles against his lips, "I win."

"What?" He laughs, pulling away with a faint blush.

"You aren't editing. I win."

"You tricked me!"

"Yup. And it worked. So you have to go to bed now, because I won."

"I didn't agree to that!"

"My rules."

"This is-" A yawn cuts him off halfway through, and he doesn't attempt to finish the sentence.

"Exactly. Come on, we can fall asleep to Moana or something."

"Moana is actually so fucking good."

"I know, I know."

Before she can head back to his bedroom, he steps closer again and kisses her again. Her hands go around his neck, his around her waist, and they sway just a little.

“Fine. Let’s sleep.” He finally relents.

Now that he's given up trying to resist, it only takes a few minutes for the both of them to find their way to bed. Moana plays on his laptop, but it's almost useless as they both find themselves falling asleep within minutes, curled safely into each other.

#tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit #mcyt #mcyt imagine #dsmp #tommyinnit mcyt

[lexa-griffins]

even a small snippet ☹️☹️☹️🥹🥺🥺

This isn't edited and it's really just an extend of what I already posted on my original post but I think the rest of what I have would just be boring to read so here:

Clarke tries to focus on anything that isn't bare legs or high heels that cost more than her yearly rent or that ass in that leather skirt; tries to worry more about the fact she's bound to a rusty chair, has a face covered in bruises and a bleeding lip or that a concussion might be well on its way to becoming a permanent problem after her beat up.

All Clarke's sees, all she feels and she wants is her.

It has been like this ever since they met at Grounders, a failed attempt at seduction on her part but still ended up with Lexa on her bed, smirking as she played with her badge. Grinning, this sickly sweet grin, as she stranded Clarke's hips and pointed her gun at her chest, pulling the trigger and bursting into a fit of giggles when the locked gun didn't shoot.

"Good. You fuck too well to let it go to waste.” she'd coo before bending down and kissing where the barrel had just touched Clarke's warm skin. 

She occupies every thought in the detectives head, obsessive thought after obsessive thought, threatening to drive her mad but she doesn't care, could not give two flying fucks about the fact the woman in front of her is stalking her like a predator or that she could either end up dead or in jail for the rest of her life.

“It’s quite simple, Clarke. Just tell me the names and if you’re not lying then the issue will be solved.”

Clare shakes her head. She can't do that.

“Those men are my friends Lexa. They have families, spouses and kids.” Her breathing becomes heavy with distress.

“The deal is non negotiable.” Lexa’s voice is cold, eyes drilling holes in Clarke’s head.

Clarke looks up at her like she is absolutely crazy.

"Oh baby, don't be mad. I warned you my love didn't come easy." she straddles Clarke's waist and forces her ass down on her lap, making the detective aware that there is nothing covering her core. 

Plump lips attach to her neck, biting and licking, while she rolls her hips on her lap, looking for any friction Clarke’s pants might provide. She works herself up alone and Clarke loves to watch it. She ponders for a brief second what Gustus would do if he walked in on them right now, he’s precious little girl humping the detective like a bitch in heat but very quickly she realizes she does not care. He could beat her up, shoot her for all she cares, as long as the sight of Lexa’s open mouth as she pants on her lap and grabs a fistful of Clarke’s hair from behind to prevent herself from falling is the last thing she sees.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” whining moans leave Lexa far too loudly, echoing through the empty building. 

“Angel, you need to be more quiet.” Clarke reminds her gently, because Lexa is all nails and sharp teeth that melt away when treated like a princess. A perfectly self-centered spoiled girl. Clarke wouldn’t have any other way.

A sharp pain sinks on Clarke’s shoulder, Lexa’s teeth sinking in to prevent herself from moaning to loud, hips still bucking in search for her release.

#letter opened #au: mobster daughter #something about Clarke thinking of Lexa has a bitch in heat before calling her angel out loud............... idk #it aint much but it's honest work!! #clexa #my writing

[abubblingcandle]

Personal life bitch so putting it under the cut

I adore playing flag football. It's the perfect sport for me. It's quick bursts of pace not endurance, it's cerebral and being athletic helps but you can make up for not being athletic with strategy, it's also relatively unknown so I can legitimately say I play for the 4th best team in the country and have tried out to represent my country. It keeps me fit, it gives me friends I actually see in real life. This is my 6th year playing women's, and I am on a break from playing in the mixed 2nd tier.

However I am now 80% sure the women's captain is fatphobic (the 20% doubt might just be that she hates me personally as I am the only overweight person on the team). She refuses to play me consistently and will not (or can not) justify why not and if there was another nearby women's team I would quit.

Evidence:

She won't play me in the position I like playing even if there is literally no one else - For those of you who know American Football, for three years I played QB. The starting QB on this team is better than me I will freely admit that. But even when the usual starter isn't there it's like I'm not in contention. And her excuse was "you perform better without stress and I thought QB stressed you out". I wouldn't have kept asking to play it if it stressed me out. The reason why she thought it stressed me out was because I had a panic attack at a game day because one of my own players shouted at me that I was shit and I would cost the team games if I was that shit, during a warm up when I had not thrown a football in 8 months and I slightly over threw her 🤷 Today starting QB, back up QB, rookie QB all not at training. Coach asked who wanted to throw, I said me. I threw in the drills. Game time - she picked someone who didn't want to play QB with a fucking rotator cuff injury over me, citing that she needed me to get some practice at receiver. I then played 15 plays at most (12 or so minutes out of 1hr playing). Last game day the only QB went down injured m, I lept in saying I'll do it! Gave the ball to someone who hadn't played the position before.

When I ask why she isn't playing me she gives bullshit excuses - "you need to practice at that position" I've been playing it for a year, "you haven't been at training" I've been at training more than you have even though it takes me an hour and a bit to get there over it taking her 5 minutes, "be confident and understand all positions" I have played all positions in competitive matches and am a qualified coach, "it's a tactical decision" so what's the point of me being here then

She can't ever come up with anything I can do to improve - every time I ask for advice to improve the response is either "you did well" or "don't worry about it". Which makes me think she can't see a way for me to be better or she doesn't want to say lose weight and get faster because she knows that is a shit thing. Like if you think I'm a weak link and the only thing I can do is be faster then fucking tell me and I'll fuck off

The problem is that she is a coach and is the long term partner of the head coach. So I can't bitch to him about it.

I really don't want to quit but I think if it's the same this season (likely going to be worse as we have more players) then this might be my last season as a flag player which breaks my heart

EDIT - Can't believe I forgot about this. We're installing a new defence and this was my first play in that defence. Fact that you need for this to make sense we have a player called Laura and a player called Lauren, it'll be relevant later. I asked for clarification on what I should do and she said "stay in the middle and get in the way", sure I can do that. That is actually my fave place to be on defence. Play starts, Lauren cuts and runs into the middle. I drop back to get in the throwing lane and get in the way of Lauren. As I do that Person Who Hates Me shouts "cover Laura" who was going late out wide. I had already committed to Lauren and was so confused as I couldn't tell if she said Laura or Lauren and so stuck with Lauren in the middle. Ball went to someone who was open deep. Soon as the play is over she comes over and shouts "in that sort of play you should have stayed and then gone wide with Laura". My response, "ok, my bad next time I'll go with the runner across late". Another player comes in to debrief about why the player that caught was open and Person Who Hates Me just kept repeating, "I should have been on her but I had to go with Laura because Candle was in the wrong place!" over and over and it made me feel so shit. Like I acknowledged that at my first time of doing something I did the wrong thing (despite it being clearly the right option based on what I was told to do) so there's no need to be such a bitch about it

Ok I'm done now

#Personal shit #Might delete later #But I'm so pissed off yet again

[constructedparadox]

I posted 11,170 times in 2022

114 posts created (1%)

11,056 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@castlewyvern

@constructedparadox

@longrhodeahead

@lchupanibre

@b00tytang

I tagged 4,661 of my posts in 2022

#my damn jamn - 424 posts

#lmao 😂😂😂😂😂 - 361 posts

#feed a nigga - 287 posts

#daredevil - 247 posts

#abbott elementary - 174 posts

#thas me - 123 posts

#stranger things - 88 posts

#samurai champloo - 75 posts

#the umbrella academy - 73 posts

#rottmnt - 70 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#got my annual 'pay increase' and labor is the only commodity that doesn't need to swell in cost for the sake of the almighty economy

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Watched School of Chocolate and I loved it for the most part. It was, indeed, a school and Chef Amaury did teach the contestants quite a bit about working with chocolate and pastries. And the contestants were really talented and open to learn and compete.

Didn't care for Melissa, tho. She kept using that tired "I'm used to being the boss" line people use when they don't want to be respectful of their teammates. She acted annoyed by anyones ideas but her own and was convinced that if she wasn't in control then they wouldn't succeed. She was condescending, nitpicking, passive aggressive and tiresome. So when her plan to use Tyricia to win a challenge bc she just knew she was better than her actually backfired, you'd best believe I cackled loudly. "How did she win off of my piece?" like they didn't build that thing together. Cry me river, bitch.

*ahem* Overall the show is very enjoyable and a quick watch 😀

23 notes - Posted January 18, 2022

#4

Bel Air is looking mighty good after these first episodes. The casting and characterizations are wonderful and the rebooted storyline is the very definition of a fresh take. If you were a fan of the original 90s sitcom you'll recognize the obvious plot points immediately and how they've been made to fit the show's altered direction. The changes made to cover the switch from mid 90s to early 2020s are all simple enough to be believable. The show has been made over into a full blown drama that gets heavier every episode but still has heart and humor. There's even some interesting new character dynamics to make sure the hour long episodes aren't completely focused on Will, even though he is still the main. It's a re-imagining in the truest sense and imo really enjoyable.

35 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

#3

It's time people learn to spot a bad photo editing job bc I'm watching Tinder Swindler and that picture of him with his "parents" is just awful. That would have been the first and last red flag

53 notes - Posted February 15, 2022

#2

Wakanda Forever is awesome from beginning to end. I really must give props to everyone involved bc it is absolutely fantastic. There were tears, of course, at the dedications, flashbacks and homages to Chadwick Boseman. But the story moves on and it does so with a clear direction. I was glued to the story and not a moment or character was wasted or misused. I honestly haven't enjoyed a Marvel film this much since the first Black Panther. If you're on the fence or worried that it failed as a worthy sequel I can tell you (in my opinion) you have nothing to fear. Wakanda Forever is a great movie and you should go see it.

73 notes - Posted November 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

🗣"FUCK YOU, SHORSEY!!" Those brilliant bastards at Letterkenny took an Atari-style blip of one dimensional comedic relief and respawned him into a fully rendered high definition protagonist complete with a backstory and a character arc. I would not have believed it if I had not seen it (and I would not have seen it if Hulu didn't remember how much I like Letterkenny and suggest the show bc I had completely forgotten about it).

In six episodes they manage to show that Shorsey is not just a talented and hyper competitive hockey playing asshole with unmatched shit talking skills and a penchant for pulling off violent dirty plays. It's revealed that he has a lot that he truly cares about: winning, loyalty, family, and his team. They take him past being enjoyable for being funny and make him likable for being himself. But he's still as ruthlessly insulting as ever so don't think he's gone soft. The show also introduced a slew of all new characters in a brand new town and they're just as uniquely endearing as anyone Shorsey left behind in Letterkenny. Since it's from Jared Keeso and company there were lots of well earned laughs to go with a rather interesting plot. If you're already a fan of Letterkenny I think you'll be very pleasantly surprised by what's been built out of Shorsey, so check it out

202 notes - Posted June 14, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[popculturebuffet]

Thomas The Tank Engine Season 4b: The One With the Indignation Meeting (Comission for Lachey V)

Hello all you stupid train children and welcome back to my exaustively long look at thomas the tank engine. After way , way too many delays we're back to finish off season 4. As mentioned last time, season 4a was mostly a chance to adapt the books they hadn't yet since the trains would've cost a lot to make with so many new models. So what's Season 4b now we're back with our usual gang of idiots? WHATEVER THEY HAD LEFT BABBYEEE! Season 4b is a few magazine stories and every book they still wanted to adapt, but hadn't for expense reaosns, time, they didn't like cows. As a result season 4b might be my faviorite episode batch thus far. Season 4b has a LOT of bonkers, as you could tell by the indignation meeting. I mean if your here for a gentle relaxing kids show, this will still do the job but if your like me and your here for the nonsernse, then it does the job better than anyone. So join me under the cut for an indignation meeting as we discuss Thomas the Tank Engine season 4b

Rusty to the Rescue:

We do get to see Rusty, my beloved one last time. The Fat Controller needs an engine for his "bluebell railway" so Rusty procedes to be the best by going to a disel railyard, The Great and Powerful Oz railway given they TALK IN A BOOMING ECHOEY VOICE WE'VE NEVER HEARD FROM A DISEL. Seriously are they delivering god's party sized cool ranch doritos? Who are these guys? Rusty talks back to them and finds an engine, Stepny, a jolly chap basedon a real life famous engine whose old driver is keeping him compnay. Honestly it's more.. sad than fucked up seeing a train abandoned this time. Stepny's simply rusted and is kept company by his old friend.. instead of you know, sentenced to death or used as a living battery presumibly left there screaming and rusting for all time. Rusty rescues stepny though, the fat controller buys him and we have a guest engine for a few episodes. A really good episode and a nice sendoff to rusty until we see him again. It's a neat way to bridge the other railway with our main one, ease the audience back into our usual nonsense.

Thomas and Stepney

Everyone rightfully loves Stepny. Thomas is a jealous twit about it. Thomas learns not to be jealous twit. This episode sure did happen.

Train Stops Play So after a brief stop for a bog standard Thomas episode, we get some of the series finest , premium, day one edition bolllocks: So some crickiters, because this series took "This series couldn't possibly get more british" as a challenge instead of a statement of fact, get their ball stuck in stepny. Now most perosns would just.. call the railway or simply use their car to go to the next stop along to get their ball. I get at least that buying a new one probably isn't super easy on a small island like sodor, or may be expensive. Instead they chase and holler after the train, and the conductor soundly and rationally decides THEY WANT TO RACE, so we get a race between a bunch of crickiters and a train while the poor cricketmobile eventually gives out. He also has nice eyes. What i'm saying is this car deserves his own spinoff and this episode is more my speed. And that's the speed of a bunch of idiots chasing a train while a train conductor says BRING IT ON BITCH BRING IT ON.

Bowed Out (Very Useful Engine Award Winner) I'm bringing back my best episode reward I forgot the last few times and decided to keep gone... because man oh man this is the best. I mean as a WHOLE the episode is .. fine. A new disel shows up, he's a racist dick, everyone's mad, and he gets his compuance. Standard Disel formula and really standard series formula; someone's a cocky dick and gets the wrath of god on them.

What makes this so special... is this is where ourarticle image comes from. As a refresher

I swear I did not edit this. I got this straight from an offical video containing the episode, and while it seems to just be autocaptioned, said caption got it exactly on. The various trains HAVE AN IDIGNATION MEETING.

INDIGNTATION MEETING

INDIGNATION MEETING

INDIGNATION MEETING

It's everything I never knew I wanted. The missing piece if you will. The trains HAVE had indignation meetings before, this isn't new.. but the fact the narration NAMES it that will never not be the best thing. This series has peaked. I can see why the next season is considered the last "Golden Age" season, because after an indignation meeting how do you go on? How do you top that? And they certainly do try as we certianly do get some grade a bollocks. Just because your series reaches it's highest of highs. .dosen't mean it still can't be good. But I don't think anything will ever top this. Their certainly welcome to try though.

Henry and the Elephant Apparently Henry's suffering is eternal, as once again god decides to humilate him, this time for really no reason. He was cross with James.. after James brought up the tiny incident where Henry was bricked inside a tunnel for his hubris for at least a week and traumatized into being a very useful engine.

And as if that incident coudln't possibly haunt him more, Henry is tasked to clean out a tunnel.. and instead finds some mysterious beast inside, and has no choice but to clear it out as the tunnel needs clearing. It turns out to be an elephant which understandably traumatizes him. I mean i'm not a hundred tons of steel and human face, but i'd still be fucking terrified of a pissed off elephant. They do clalm the elphant down.. but he later slpsahses henry after henry puffs a bit

It's just.. an exercise in humilating Henry because at this point i'm convinced the reverened hates him. I mean he hated him getting to see flowers and now this. What's next? "Henry's children are all murdered because god made a bet with satan?"

Toad Stands By

Hey kids ARE YOU READY FOR SOME MURDER?

So this starts innocently enough: Oliver is having trouble with trucks, who are mocking him. And because the fat controller just.. ignores the fact the trucks are all psychotic monsters who have caused 20% of accidents on the sodor railway, Toad, another car, suggests oliver show them whose boss. This leads to oliver pulling their ringleader, Scruffy APART.

And originally he STAYS dead. Or possibly in some living hell of his own making. Also the controller YELLS at oliver for this despite both not planning for this and the trucks you know.. being awful. On the bright side the trucks are cowed into fear of oliver so.. yay?

Bulls-Eye This is a weird one... not in terms of content, but more that it's an interquel: this incident hapepned during Daisy's earlier apperances on the show, and in the original books naturally, but was only refrenced. Why they didn't do it sooner?

But it's here. Basically Daisy scoffs at the idea of cowcatchers and having to actually scare a bull.. but then gets terrfied by one and mocked. I mean.. I get it. And this time it's personal experince: While i've thankfully haven't had to actually stare down a bull, I was roped into helping my grandma and uncles with one a few times as a teen with dad REALLY not getting how terrifying it is to be in the proximy of a bull and be given "stay near the gates and hope it dosen't hurt you" duty. Granted I was also upset any time I saw the bull from a very safe distance, but given cartoons had trained me to think bulls were mad beasts and not just.. tempramental male cows, still dangerous but not you know monsters bugs bunny has to fight, I stand by my fear.

Also the bull minitue is really nice. has a little moveable head I just noticed. All in all a fun little side adventure. I get why it was cut but I also get saving it for it's own episode later.

Thomas and the Special Letter

The origins of this one are so dang sweet: So the original book story came about because a little girl wrote into him asking him to meet thomas.. and he was so touched by it he wrote a story about the trains visiting London. That origin alone makes this one really special but it's also just a nice little story as Thomas is happy to have been invited, gets a swelled head, and then there's some nice tension after he stupidly hurts himself in wether or not he'll get to go. He does of course, but the series penchant for punishing trains for their hubris means there's legit tension in if Thomas will make it in time. Good stuff.

Paint Pots and Queens So after a special but pretty nice and charming episode we get a reminder this season enhaled some paint fumes as THE QUEEN OF ENGLAD HERSELF SHOWS UP. This is another interquel, though I didn't quite realize it with Thomas and Gordon havin ga pity party only to get to pull the queen. Honestly though for such a big thing as Thomas meeting THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND.. it's pretty forgetable. I.. I shouldn't have forgot Thomas Meets the Queen of England even with my stygian hole of a short term memory.

Fish

Fish delivery shenanigans with the flying kipper. I barely remember this one too though I at least like that it involves fish

Special Attractoin So this one involves bullstrode, an asshole barge who as usual gets punished for his hubris. It's weird going to boats after tugs not going to lie, but bullstroad is neat. He also gets into a pissing match with the trucks which ends with both of them nearly sinking into the harbor

A pretty standard ep but the naval setting, the target of this hubris getting a proportinate punishment (he refuses to do his job so he's left to be an attraction for kids to look at, but isn't you know.. left powerless. They'll probably still take care of him. )

Follow That Bike

A train runs over a bike. I honestly forgot most of what happened.

So that was season 4b and while it ends kind of sedately it's packed with a LOT of memorable episodes and while I like most of them for the bollocks the fact is most of them.. are really good for this show. Really solid stories that fit the tone. next time we tackle the last season for this retrospective, probably, and see what wonders happen when the writers are left to their own devices.

#thomas the tank engine #animation #trains #britt alcroft #the queen of england

[shurisneakers]

harmless (i)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, nonsense writing

Word count: 1.5k 

A/N: listen i just needed something to keep my mind busy and a perry the platypus!bucky and dr. doofenshmirtz!reader was the only thing i could think of. dont have any high expectations from this series, you will be sorely disappointed.

If you have any ideas for this series, lemme know!! it’d be cute to write!!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Series Masterlist

Bucky Barnes, for all intents and purposes, is edgy. 

His SHIELD salary is definitely enough to afford him a simple beanie, gloves even if he’s that eager. His long hair, though a spectacle in itself, isn’t as good at keeping away the cold as he claims it to be. 

It’s a personal choice, a fashion statement even, to be roaming the streets in a long flimsy t-shirt that does nothing to accentuate his broad shoulders, and tactical pants that look a little too comfortable. 

It’s cold. He says he likes it, to appease his blond haired best friend who insisted that he wear a cardigan at least. He won’t like it in a while, but he would never admit it.

The bike ride to the other side of town for a minor mission takes longer than he expected. The wind rushing by gets his adrenaline racing. 

Official missions are long and gruelling, and oftentimes not fun. But it gives him a purpose.

It’s easy, therefore, to find him brooding when he’s not on one. 

No one wants their room to be on the receiving end of Bucky’s stress-cleaning sessions. His baking is more appreciated.

So when there’s news of a small time villain creating havoc again, it made sense that he volunteered to go sort it out. No one else wanted the job. They’d all been at it before. 

SHIELD didn’t seem particularly bothered either. 

“It’s not that serious, Barnes.”

“I’m going.”

“Just stop her from doing whatever dumb plan she has today. She seems to have a new one every week.”

“Can I-”

“This is not an assassination mission.”

“Fine. Can I-”

“No.”

“Fine.”

He didn’t know what to expect. He had an idea of how they should be. Smaller villains tended to be more aggressive, vicious to prove their point. They were here to stay.

He wears his regular gear. Enough knives to make a butcher look away in shame, and guns including, but not limited to, his biceps.

He finally pulls the bike to a stop a few metres away, leaving it out of reach in case things got too out of hand. He didn’t want to have to walk back to the Tower, and his friends, as much as they loved him, would never go out of their way to pick him up. Little shits. 

The address is a dingy, plain concrete house near an old construction site. It was flat and felt more like an afterthought than an actual building. It looked more like an abandoned Walmart than an actual villain lair. 

The only entrance is the door in the front. He counts to three, lifting his leg to kick it down.

It falls down ungracefully, loud and creaky like it was bound to the doorframe by rust. 

The only light source inside is a green light. All the way at the other end on an elevated platform is a desk and a chair facing away from him. He can’t see much other than that.

Someone’s laughter comes back loud and booming. He raises his gun, feet apart in a defensive stance. 

“I’ve been expecti-” the voice pauses mid-sentence- “Did you just kick down my door?”

He looks behind him to where the wooden piece is on the floor. He certainly did.

He can finally see you as you stand up, green light illuminating your face. You reach over to the side, pressing a few switches. 

He squints when all the lights turn on, pulling the both of you from darkness. 

“Dude!” you cry out, face twisting into what only could be described as a mix of horror and disdain. “What’d you do that for?”

He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t lower his gun either.

“You’re an Avenger, just fuckin’ pick the lock or something. This is expensive!” 

He only watches as you whine, looking beyond him at your now demolished entrance. You take a few steps closer, jumping down from the elevated platform.

“Insurance isn’t going to cover this.” You drag your palm across your fist before extending it towards him. “Pay up.”

He wasn’t sure if he heard you right.

“What?” he finally asked, voice gruff.

“All you superheroes go around, destroying walls and cars in the name of world peace like you own the damn thing. Not today, bitch boy. Pay up.”

He doesn’t have his wallet with him. He didn’t expect to need it.

“I’m supposed to be stopping you.” 

“You can do that once you pay for my door.” 

You sound resolute, unshaken. A little annoyed. There’s what appears to be a gun in your hand, although it’s unlike any weapon he’s seen before.

“What’s your plan?” Bucky looks at your hand. Your stare follows his. You lift the thing up and he tenses.

“I was going to freeze some jerk but now my plan is to get you cancelled on Twitter.” 

“Why?” his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Local superhero destroys property of tax paying citizen for no good reason.”

“I mean-” he shakes his head, discarding what you’re saying, “-why were you going to freeze someone?”

“Because I wanted to. But you’ve ruined the mood now, so that won’t happen.”

He blinks, lowering his weapon when he realises you weren’t making any attempt to move. “What’s your ulterior motive?”

“Nothing! I just wanted to mildly inconvenience that stupid fuck for being such a prick.”

He doesn’t know what to say. 

“Is that the freeze ray?” Bucky asks instead, raising his gun when he realises there’s a very real chance he could end up like his best friend. 

“You got a problem with it?” You hold it up carelessly. 

“I can’t let you use that.”

“That’s all you’re going to do?” you huff, “Is this what you call an intervention? This is so boring.”

“Give me the freeze ray and no one has to get hurt.” 

“No one was going to get hurt in the first place, genius. All this does is slow him down for 5 minutes so he misses the subway.”

There’s nothing technically that evil about what you’re doing. He doesn’t even know how you ended up on SHIELD’s radar. He gets why no one was particularly driven to take this seriously.

“And for fuck’s sake put that gun away. You’re not scaring me.” 

He doesn’t oblige, even though something tugs at him, telling him that you’re speaking the truth. 

“Here, take the stupid thing.” You don’t bother waiting for his response, bending over and sliding the gun towards his feet. “I’ll find another way to get back at that dickhead.”

It hits his boot with a small thud. He looks down. Its design is ridiculously comical, like you ripped it straight out of a kid’s TV show. 

“Next time, bring some drama. Wear a cape or something.” You wave him off. “Now get out of my lair. I need to fix the door.”

“You don’t have another one of these lying around, do you?”

“Why, do your friends want one too?” The glare you give him is dangerous. He doesn’t react to it. “No, it’s limited edition. I don’t build the same thing twice.”

“You have others?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” A smile grows on your face, dropping as quickly as it arrives. “SHIELD will tell you if I do. Now leave.”

Bucky looks at the freeze ray in his hand. He supposes his job is done. He was told to stop you, but you didn’t seem to have any inclination to go on with your plan.

“You can ask them if you want, they know about me.” You roll your eyes. “Go ahead, call them.”

He doesn’t want to take a chance. As odd as the situation is, it’s still novel and he isn’t quite sure how to deal with it.

He tucks your weapon under his arm, pressing his phone to his ear.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” Maria’s voice is crisp as ever.

“I confiscated a... freeze ray.” He feels ridiculous even saying it. “But I’m going to bring her in to SHIELD headquarter-”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“But we can’t trust-”

“We’ve been keeping tabs on her for a while. She’s more or less harmless. You can take the rest of the night off, Sergeant.”

He cuts the call, not entirely at ease with the smug, expectant look on your face. 

Still, he couldn’t disobey direct orders.

“I’m gonna... go.” He mentions towards the gaping hole in the wall.

“That would be ideal, yes.” You nod, crossing your arm over your chest.

“Okay.” He hesitates, but finally takes a step backwards. He peeks over his shoulder as he leaves, but finds you swivelled away from him again. 

He steps back outside. The cold greets him again like an old friend. The weight of his weapons feels stupidly embarrassing now. 

It’s a long drive back to the Tower. He keeps replaying the entire story in his mind. He’s unsure of whether he made the right call, but no one else really seemed to care. 

He had seen weirder things. It came with the gig.

He leaves it at that.

“How’d it go?” Steve asks him when he walks into the living room.

“T’was fine,” he answers, toying with the stupid device he took from you. Maybe he would test it on Clint. He had been getting annoying lately. Breathing too much in Bucky’s general direction.

A part of him feels guilty for his carelessness towards your building. The other part is just bewildered. 

That night he looks up the cost it takes to replace a door, making a mental note to draw some money from the ATM soon.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

[noritoshiikamo]

lunch date

part 2 of this childhood friend drabble (ok fr frshould i name this childhood friend series or public sex series bcs hmm you'll see) pairing: gojo satoru + fem!reader genre: smut bcs i think with my hand down my pants when i see gojo tags//warning: established relationship public sex, gojo thinking with dick part 2, mention of breeding kink tagging: @unabashednightmarepizza @sukirichi @sassyeahhhh [lemme know if wanna be tagged in the next part] note: the obligatory trio of mine: unedited, lowercase intended, the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it.

“toru- ah, that hurts!”

his grip to her thighs tightened, “shhh, they can hear you.”

when gojo satoru suggested that they have lunch together, she happily accepted. she didn't suspected anything odd of his behavior. he was so kind to offer to bring her something over and she has been so stressed with her works, she just accepted it with no questions. it was the first text she’d replied after ignoring his many messages and calls.

it has been two weeks since the staircase incident and she started to suspect that he knew that she was actively trying to avoid him for almost a week. she knows gojo satoru like the back of her own hand, she knows he will not forget his promises, and he will hold against her until he gets it. their newly blossomed relationship was doing okay until he popped the question out so casually as she cooked. she couldn’t forget the look on his face.

“so, when are we going to have a baby?” his question that freaked her out lingered in her mind.

a baby

what was she thinking? she smacked her head on the table. “you could’ve asked for a house, or his black card, or something else. but a baby?” her voice strained.

“yes?” the hair on her back stood at the familiar deep voice.

she looked up so fast, her head spun to see her door opened wide. sara, her colleague stood with a slight frown on her face and on her side, gojo satoru. he wore teasing smile, traded his blindfold for his glasses and he looked different. he wore a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up with a pair of black pants and boots. his outfit looked simple and minimalistic, but don’t be fooled. she knew his shirt costs about the same as her monthly rent.

i can’t believe i picked a baby over his black card, her mind cried at the thoughts.

“i’ve tried stopping him,” sara explained, a glare on her face. he interjected. “i don’t need appointment to see my girlfriend,” gojo stepped inside, holding the door. “girlfriend?” sara questioned. she couldn’t help but to feel satisfied at the reaction her assistant’s face held.

“she gave you, her number?” she asked, one night where he came over. the bed sheet wrapped around her bare body as her eyes raked up and down satoru’s own bare body as he leaned against the headboard. his eyes shut close with his arms flexed behind his head. a small satisfactory smile on his face as he said, “right after telling me that you like me.”

“that bitch,” she hissed, gritting her teeth.

“y/n chan,” his eyes opened, a teasing smirk grew on his face. he leaned forward, the blanket pooled around his waist as he cupped her face in his hand, “didn’t see you as a jealous kind.”

it wasn’t that fact that she was jealous that sara is actively into gojo. she was fuming at her assistant for divulging her personal matter to him. that part first, and then maybe she was a little jealous. but then, sara was the reason she finally gets the guy she’s been waiting for; so at the end she still wins. sara will remain a bitch for a reason.

“it’s okay, we are having lunch together. you can leave,” she dismissed her, rubbing her strained eyes. gojo happily slammed the door shut.

“so, wanna tell me why you’re avoiding me?”

she sighed, her fingers ghosting over the keyboard, his presence has disturbed her mind, “i’m not. i-i’m busy.”

he sat on her chair, crossing his legs as he rested his lanky body against the chair. “you can’t even look at me. what is it?” he asked. her finger stopped above the enter key. she wanted to press it, but she can’t. something is holding her back. she knew what he’s doing. she sighed in defeat and turned to face the elephant in the room. her brows frowned when she realised; “where’s the food?” she asked staring at the empty table.

“huh?”

“lunch? you told me we are having lunch?” she frowned. this idiot did not just suggest that they’ll have lunch together, show up at her office without the promised food. gojo looked at her sheepishly, a small smile on his face.

“oh, that. yeah, i just want an excuse to see you,” his small smile turned sinister as he lolled his head to the side, “you could be my lunch.”

her face pressed against the glass window overlooking the city. her floor wasn’t that high, they could see the streets bellow and the office in front of them. she repeatedly told him that they can’t do this. “they can see us,” she panicked, despite being delirious from his kisses as she let him unbutton her shirt. but a few kisses later, her skirt hiked up, panties in his pocket and his dick hitting her cervix roughly, she was convinced.

“you think you can come for me six times?” he heaved, lips against her bare shoulder, accentuating his words with his every thrust, “six for the amount of days you've ignored me. another five to go, buttercup. should be easy.”

his hand trailed down her chest, her belly until he found her neglected clit. a gentle tap of her bundle of nerves had her throwing her hair back. she was about to come undone; he could feel it from the way she was desperately clamping down on his length and her whining. tears streaming down her face as she bit down on her lips to hold herself from screaming, she could taste blood. her body shuddered, her sweaty skin leaving marks on the glass and the way he just mewled against her ears, praising her made her legs buckled.

he was quick to catch her, hands gripping her waist.

they moved to the desk, pushing all her files and pens aside as he laid her down. he showered her with kisses, slowly trailing them down to her cunt. he eyed her glistening slit, mouth watered. grabbing her legs, he held it open, she whined at the feeling of his warm breath ghosting over her. “satoru, i can’t,” she moaned at the first lick, her hand pressed on his head trying to get away, but he held her tight. “n-no more, ah fuck, fuck!” she could feel his eyes on her, watching her every reaction as his tongue worked their ways. the feeling on his teeth grazing her clit, the tip of her tongue teasing around her entrance, before slipping in.

she tasted so good; it was more pleasurable for him than her. she looked pretty squirming to get away as he held her tighter, tongue darting in and out. overstimulation was hitting her full force and she was high in pleasure. her brain couldn’t comprehend; between the feeling of his breath against her slit, his tongue fucking her, his calloused palms against her waist and the sound he was making. she didn’t give two fucks if the office heard them fucking.

“close, fuck, toru i want-” her words cut off by her own moan.

his tongue switched, sucking on her swollen clit as his finger took over the fucking. it didn’t take long for her to gush out. her head was pounding, his words went in one ear and out the another. he stood up, drools and her fluid covered his chin and onto his bare chest. he helped her sat, she was beyond exhausted. the feeling of his fingers brushing her hair back brought back to the office, she looked up to him with her eyes half drooped. a soft chuckle escaped his lips as he pressed it on hers. “you okay?” he whispered, planting kisses after kisses. “i miss you so much,” he cooed.

“miss you,” was all she could mustered out.

“did i scare you? with the baby talk?” he asked, pulling her in his arms. truth be told, seducing her into fucking in front of the glass window wasn’t the actual reason gojo was here. but her words were just so inviting, he doesn’t mind a little detour. she tasted delicious. she mumbled something against his chest, but he was sure it was a maybe.

“i thought you wanted it.”

she pouted, finally the first sentence her brain could scrambled, “maybe i change my mind.”

“that’s why you ran away from me? you’re scared?” he tilted her head up, his heart warmed at the little pout she had on, “oh buttercup, i won’t lie. the thoughts of you all round and milky with my child is turning me on-” not a lie, because she could feel his cock pressing against her slit, “but it’s okay. one day i’ll change your mind but for now, i’m fine with a little practise now.” she groaned against his lips as she felt his tip slipped in, stretching her once again.

this one was quicker, she was already sobbing mess, clutching desperately on his chest as he chased his high.

the deeper he pushed into her, the faster he had to circle her clit. he’s not a selfish lover, he wants her to feel as good as him too, despite being borderline torturous as she was clearly an overstimulated mess. “you’re so good to me,” he hummed, “you take me in so well. i love the way your tight cunt suck me in.” she really was, with mouth apart panting his name, eyelids drooped, and fingers dug into his flesh with legs apart.

she’s his good little girl.

she nodded, soft mewls could be heard through her pants. the wet kisses he was peppering her skin soon turned into a desperate attempt to leave a mark. she was beyond exhausted to berate him for doing it, so she learned to enjoy the feeling of his fangs against her flushed skin.

“toru, it feels so good,” she rolled her eyes back and he hummed in agreement.

gojo held her throat, not too harsh but not exactly gentle too, “it does, does it?” he grinned, “come, clench around my cock, y/n chan," he teased, in a sing-song tone, "i’m about to fill you up to the brim.” he tightened the grip, she whined. the way the walls tightening around him, had the world strongest’s sorcerer a moaning mess, as his hips snapped faster.

the sound of their skin slapping each other got louder and louder with the squelching of her cunt. his eyes rolled to the back of his head, as he forced his cock all the way inside, his thick seed shooting directly into her womb. his grip on her waist tightened, he was all choke up. they stayed in each other’s arm, struggling to catch a break.

he pinched her cheek for the fun of it, seeing her annoyed and bothered for his own personal pleasure. “what luck you have, y/n. falling in love with someone like me,” he brushed the tear stains on her cheek.

“who said i love you?”

he pressed his hand on his chest, faking the pained look on his face with an ouch. it was never an exchange of i love yous between them; it was him annoying the fuck out of her and her being constantly concern by his childishness. “would you still come home, y/n. i miss you so much, no lies.” he asked as he pulled his pants back up. "i will," she promised. he helped her off the desk, cleaning the mess they’d made and her chasing him around for her pair of panties. she never got it back, her face was as red as her stilettos as she made her way out of the office bare under her skirt. she could hear him snickering behind her.

“c-cancel the rest of my day please, sara. i have some business to take care off,” she glared at the white-haired man running toward the elevator. lunch time was over, and she was beyond fucked to continue her work. literally. not when gojo had made sure to give her the fucking of her life, she couldn’t focus on her work no more. sara gave her a glare, a dirty one, as she eyed her skewered hair and wrinkled clothes. she placed the files on her assistant’s desk, rushing as gojo held the elevator opened.

she made in, jumping instantly in his arms as the door closed. it was just two of them in the empty lift.

she giggled in his arms; his huge smile was contagious. he kissed her so gently, thumb on her back rubbing shapes. his smile grew wider as they pulled away. she tilted her head, confusion on her face and he nudged his head to the door. she turned around only to see their reflection on the elevator’s door. “look closer,” he whispered, and her eyes widened as she realised a trail of his cum, peaking out of her skirt down her legs. her face got even redder as she wasn’t sure if it had just happened or gojo has been letting her walk around with his cum down her legs.

“i’ll murder you, satoru.”

the lift suddenly halted. the number stopped at the ninth floor and she cursed. the lift wasn’t malfunction; she knew exactly what he was doing, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it.

“not going to lie, seeing my cum down your legs, it looks hot,” he said sheepishly, a kiss on her cheek while his hands already made their way underneath her blouse. his brows raised up suggestively.

“will you stop thinking with your dick, satoru?”

“you still owe me two more orgasm, buttercup.”

the light of the lift suddenly tripped, engulfing them in a pitch-black darkness. she jolted in his arms. the emergency light turned on and under the dimmed light, she could see his blue eyes on her like a predatory to its prey. she could feel her throat drying as a kiss landed on her neck.

“we better make our time worth.”

#hfdkherfhukbfuke gojo brainrot bye #childhood friend series #gojo satoru #gojou satoru #satoru gojo #satoru gojou #gojo saturo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #tw public sex #jjk gojo #gojo satoru smut #gojou satoru smut #writing: fics

[bbdaydreams]

Big Baby

TikTok inspo (warning: close up of a wasp)

a/n: @pinoyrella and I came up with this like 3 months ago. I’m just very lazy

Pairing: Ran Haitani x Reader

Summary: Things go south for Ran when he finds a wasp and has to wait for you to come back home

Warning: very ooc and poorly edited

Having both of yours and Ran’s days off is always a blessing, but it’s unfortunate when one of you have already made plans. Your schedule was more regular whereas Ran’s was more spontaneous so you and Ran either made last minute plans or didn’t hang out at all. Today was one of those days. You both had off but Ran had gotten his schedule late and you had made plans in advance to hang out with a friend at a theme park.

“I’m gonna get going now, call me if you need me. If I don’t answer I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

“Why don’t you just ditch them and stay home with me?”

“I’ve had this planned for a while, Ran. It’d be rude if I just bailed on them. Plus I haven’t seen them in a while,” you explained, checking yourself out in the mirror one last time. You turned around only to be greeted by him sitting on the edge of your bed with a fake pout on his face. “Don’t give me that. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Whatever you say, doll,” he smirked before getting up and leaning towards you to give you a quick kiss. “Have fun, don’t miss me too much.”

“Says the one that was just pouting.” Your phone buzzed, signaling you had received a text. “Ah that’s them, gotta go.” You gave him one last kiss before saying your goodbye.

After you left, Ran decided to go back to sleep to get a couple extra hours of rest. Waking up to the sun seeping through the blinds, he lifted his head up off your pillow and started stretching. Letting out a yawn, he got up and pulled the curtains and opened the doors that lead to the attached balcony. The sight from the top floor was something he would never get tired of. Stepping out, he crossed his arms and leaned over the railing before taking in a couple deep breaths to enjoy the fresh air. “Ahh, this is the life,” he spoke to himself, only wishing that you were by his side to accompany him.

Feeling hungry, he turned around to walk back inside but made his way over to your side of the bed to pick up the glass of water you placed there the night before. Noticing it still had a bit left, he drank it only to spit it back out the instant he heard a violent buzzing sound. “What was that?”

He set the glass down and started looking around the room in a panic as he slowly made his way back over to the balcony and closed the doors, hoping that whatever made the sound was gone. Going back to your side of the bed to retrieve the glass, he picked it up only to hear the buzzing again. “Where the fuck is it!”

Ran is a calm guy. He knows how to keep his composure in every situation and to do it all with a smirk on his face. The only exception being when he fears he’s near a wasp. He’s fine with flies, just knows they’re gross. He’s good with bees, because he knows they don’t mean to hurt him. But wasps? Absolutely not, they are vicious and attack just because you made eye contact with them. They also hurt like a bitch.

Holding onto the cup, he closed his eyes to try and focus on the sound. Unfortunately he didn’t hear the sound but he did feel 6 tiny feet slowly crawling up his arm. Jumping about a foot into the air, he ran around the room to get the insect off of him, which he succeeded in, and saw it fly off to the wall on the opposite side of the room. Feeling a rush of adrenaline he quickly made his way over to where the wasp was and put the cup around it, encasing it. “I win. I don’t even know how the hell you made it up here. Now I just have to get you outside…. Dammit.”

It didn’t take long for him to realize the situation he was in. He trapped the wasp but at what cost? He has nothing to slide under the cup to move it outside. There’s nothing within arms reach for him to grab to slide under. And he’s nowhere near his phone. “Shit, I can’t even call Y/n.”

“Calling Dollface.”

“Hmmm? Oh Alexa, I knew you were a great investment!” Standing hopeful with his hand firmly pressed against the cup, he waited to hear your voice. Luckily on the first ring you answered.

“Hello?”

“Y/n! I’m so glad to hear your voice. I hope you’re having fun with your friend.”

“I’m glad to hear yours too and I am! It’s nice catching up with them. We just took the last exit to get to the park so I’ll have to leave soon to head over to check in.”

“I think you should come home,” he proposed only to hear your end go silent. “Doll? Are you still there?”

“… you want me to what now?”

“I said you should come home?“ he suggested again, this time his voice small.

“Not happening.”

“Hear me out! A nice and lovely relaxing day, just you and I. We could go to your favorite café. Shop at your favorite store. I’ll buy you anything you want and more.”

“Ran, what’s going on? Are you okay?” While he may be good at getting what he wants, you know there’s more to it when he’s willingly trying to give you anything you want instead of teasing.

He should know better than to try to hide anything from you. “I’m not on speaker right?” Hearing you say no, he took a deep breath. “There’s a wasp and I caught it with a cup but I have no way of taking it out. I’m not near anything that could cover the bottom half to I can throw it out so I’m kinda just stuck standing next to a wall.”

“Oh I see.” He felt a little guilty asking you to come back home on a day you already had plans. And while he may be calm now, his heart is still rapidly beating from the fact that the only thing that separates him and his worst fear is a glass cup. “Want me to call Rin?”

“No! Please don’t, I mean.”

“What? Why not?”

“Please, don’t make me say it.”

“Say what, Ran? You asked genuinely confused with his behavior. He decided to stay quiet on the line which led to you to thinking and remembering a story his brother once told you when you guys were on an outing together.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Don’t say anything about me while I’m gone.”

“I would never gossip about you.” You told your lover.

“I might.” Rindou answered, giving him a small smile while looking at him with lazy eyes.

“Rin,” the oldest warned while giving his brother a glare reserved only for him.

“Fine, I won’t.”

“Good. I’ll be right back.” He finished and kissed your cheek before walking away.

Looking at Rindou while sipping your drink, you waited for him to give you the signal to say that his brother was out of earshot. “He’s gone.”

“You got any embarrassing stories of him? What’s his worst fear?”

“I’m not sure exactly what his worst fear is, but I can for sure say he’s terrified of wasps.” You took a sip of your drink and looked around before locking eyes with the younger Haitani to encourage him to keep going. “When we were kids we would play outside a lot visited our grandparents often and they lived near the woods so we’d always venture out. One day I was playing near a creek when all of a sudden I just hear Ran screaming for help and running past me to go back to the house. I look up and there’s a whole swarm chasing after him, I assume he must’ve stepped on their nest because damn were they angry.”

“And how long ago was this?”

“Hmmm, probably over 15 years ago but I know he’s still scared of them. If we’re walking and he hears a buzz he’ll walk a little faster while looking around trying to find them so he can avoid them.”

“Awww, he’s such a big baby,” you cooed.

“Who’s a big baby?” Ran asked, slipping into the seat next to you.

“Your brother ,” you snickered while Rindou rolled his eyes and leaned back to go along with your white lie.

Realizing he was probably embarrassed by the situation going on at home, you decided not to make things worse for him. You gave a sad look to your friend, hoping they don’t hold this against you. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll come back home. It’s gonna be a couple hours though. Can you wait that long?”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait right here for you.”

“You say it like you have another option. We’re almost at the place. I’ll get there and figure out how to get home. Sound alright?”

He hummed in response before speaking. “I’m sorry for doing this to you doll. I’m thankful for all that you do for me.”

“I didn’t know this is what it took for you to stop teasing me. A wasp? Really?”

“Shhhh! At least say I love you back before you hang up.”

“You didn’t even say it yet for me to say it back.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you, too, my big baby.”

He was about to bark back at you but you had hung up before it was too late. Looking at the cup in his hand, he realized he was gonna be standing there for a while. “Might as well get comfy.”

Stepping into the penthouse, you set your things down before picking up a magazine and making your way to your bedroom. When you came in you saw Ran sitting on the floor with his right hand on a cup and his body leaned forward so he could rest his head on the wall, peacefully asleep. Trying to be as quiet as possible to not disturb him, you knelt down next to him and tried to get a look at the creature you were dealing with, thing is you didn’t. Moving your head around the room in search of the wasp, you found nothing. “Ran-Ran,” you started lightly tapping his shoulder, “hey, I’m home.”

Letting out a yawn he opened his eyes and closed them again, still groggy. “Hey. Thanks for coming back,” he spoke, giving you a lazy smile.

“Yeah about that, I don’t see the wasp in your cup.”

“What?” He asked, immediately picking up his head and looking at you with wide eyes. “What do you mean it’s not in the cup? I’ve been here all morning.” Watching him frantically look around his hand into the cup was an unusual sight so you couldn’t help but laugh a little at his antics. “Stop laughing this is a serious matter!”

“I’m telling you it’s not there!”

“Where else would it be!”

Out of frustration he removed the cup from the wall and turned it towards himself so he could get a better look. It was at that moment that the wasp revealed itself and flew up to land on Ran’s nose.

“Ran don’t move. Just stay still,” you instructed, rolling up the magazine as quick as you could without startling the insect.

Ran was so shocked with fear all he could do was freeze. He was so terrified of the six tiny feet he could feel on his nose and the thought of the stinger that he didn’t even notice you raise your arm to swat him in the face.

“Ow-“ Ran whimpered, throwing his torso back to land on the ground so he could hold his nose.

“Mother fucker, get off him!” You yelled at the bug, shooting up once it started flying away. Running to the balcony doors, you opened them and ushered the wasp outside, immediately closing them as soon as it left but not without giving it a few last words. “And stay out!”

All Ran could do was look up at you with admiration while you crossed your arms and huffed about the situation. Making eye contact with him, you gave him a small smile before apologizing for hitting him and not killing the wasp in the process. “It’s okay, love. You got rid of him and that’s all that matters. Sorry for ruining your plans.”

“It’s okay,” you started, sitting down on the bed and tapping the spot next to you so he could join you. When he did he wrapped his arm over your shoulder and gave it a squeeze to encourage you to keep going. “After you and I hung up, my friend’s sibling called them saying there was an emergency so we would’ve had to come back regardless. It’s okay though. I now get to be with you, my big baby,” you teased, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning into his body.

“Thank you, what would I do without my hero. This means you’ll take care of all the spiders on your own now right?”

“Oh fuck no. They have eight arms, and I only have two, that is not a fair fight.”

“Big baby-“

“Shut it.”

#aug.day tiktok dreams #aug.day and ani 💛 #tokyo revengers #ran haitani #haitani ran imagines #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani x y/n #ran haitani x you #tokyo revengers ran

[anika-ann]

Just a Human (S.R.)

Type: mini-series turned one-shot, SHIELD recruit!reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 8750

Summary: Being a SHIELD recruit was a dream come true, especially with people like Sergeant Barnes or Captain Rogers offering an input to your class’ training.

It was also hard work for many different reasons. One of them being all those guys around; not all of them were exactly fit to become heroes, simply because they were not good people.

Maybe you shouldn’t have pointed it out so openly though. Then again, what would the world turn into if you kept your mouth shut when feeling like speaking up?

WARNINGS: so-so graphic description of assault almost turned sexual, violence and a bit of blood, boys being boys in a real bad way, language

A/N: Steve Rogers vs assholes, round 2. Also, ‘you’ vs. assholes. And Bucky in the mix.

A/N: This was originally posted as a miniseries on AO3, but now edited, I decided to thrown it in as a long, sort-of three part one-shot. Enjoy and mind the warnings.

(gif source dailymcugifs, divider by firefly-graphics)

A Handful of Spite

“Can you believe the fucking nerve on him?!” Henry hissed, punching the bag harder and catching your attention. The statement was followed by his companion nodding grimly.

You tried to ignore the walking testosterone jerks; you never liked either Henry or Jim. The reason was simple – they were, as you loved to remind people, an advertisement on toxic masculinity. Bullies on top of that. The kind of people you wanted to avoid at all costs.

You weren’t that lucky to have that chance though.

So instead, you scoffed under your breath and continued your sit-ups series. You had more important things to do than wonder about what they were talking about this time.

It was your regular training session with the other SHIELD recruits led by Sergeant Barnes – which--- oh my. When joining the academy, you had no clue that the director’s ‘you’ll be learning from the best’ meant that of all things; trained by the more-than-once-believed-late James Buchanan Barnes. Everyone here knew his story – or at least some of it. The brainwashing. The murders. His heroics to make up for them as much as he could. His everlasting friendship and a nickname that was tied to it. Bucky; the very best friend of the oh-so-praised Captain America.

Oh, speaking of which, he joined the sessions too. You were being trained by not one, but two supersoldiers slash war heroes. You couldn’t believe this was your life sometimes, but you were not one to dwell on it. You just accepted it as a fact. An abso-fucking-lutely incredible fact.

“He’s just a fucker, man. Forget about Barnes, you have Cassie in your pocket. Just ‘cause he’s all sticky sweet on her doesn’t mean she’ll suck his-“

You made a disgusting face, pushing harder to tune out the conversation. You wanted to gag and at the same time, your blood was boiling.

Could there be a jerk who was objectifying women more than Jim? A guy who was using his lower brain more frequently than him? Doubtful. You really wanted to throw up at rubbish that was leaving his mouth.

Not to mention that he was throwing dirt on Sergeant Barnes who absolutely didn’t deserve it.

“-he’s like that to all of them. The chicks. And they fucking dig him, it’s disgusting. He makes the poor brainwashed kicked puppy face, reminding the sob story of his and they’re all dropping to their knees I swear…” Jim continued, practically spitting the venomous words.

You squeezed your eyes shut, half furious and half guilty; the sergeant did have a heart-breaking backstory and many girls were making eyes on him, their hearts softened by the tragedy and his bravery, yes. And you couldn’t say it wasn’t moving you as well, filling you with compassion – but compassion only. Obviously, Sergeant Barnes was objectively a very attractive man too, but what they were saying… ugh.

He didn’t deserve these insults; he was not trying anything on anyone, he wasn’t offering his ‘sob story’, actually being rather secretive about it for obvious and no doubt painful reasons. He couldn’t really couldn’t be blamed for the girls fawning over him a bit more because of it, could he? What was he supposed to do? Stop breathing? Stop doing what he chose to be his job?

It wasn’t his problem – and thank god for that – that these two assholes had egos the size of Texas and couldn’t handle a little competition.

Seriously. Walking testosterone-filled jerks. You seriously considered moving from the station you had been given, eyeing Captain Rogers, checking if he would notice.

“Well, he’s not. Getting. Any. From. My. Chick. Asshole!”

The bag swung wildly under Henry’s blows despite Jim holding it. You laid off, taking your fifteen second break.

“I bet he’s fucking them all on side. Always so… so soft on them. I bet he’s leaving all the hard shit for bed,” Jim snorted, somewhere between angry at him competition and amused at his own crude joke.

You were gonna puke. You were sure of it.

“And he’s too hard on us. Showing off for them. I would fucking want to see him holding up against us without that metal arm-“

You had enough. You sat up sharply, panting, your face flushed, unsure whether it was from the exercise or the exchange you were listening to.

“Are you serious?!” you hissed their way, earning their shocked glances.

And then, Jim’s face twisted in annoyance and disgust.

“Oh geez, you’re one of them, aren’t you?” he snarked, rolling his eyes. “The fangirls.”

More heat burned in your cheeks. You weren’t kidding anyone; both the sergeant and the captain had showed up in your not so innocent dreams, but you were only human, alright. There was only so much time you could spend with two very fine men like them in one room, a bit sweaty and rough (or just slightly gentler with the ladies) until your brain reacted. Mostly to the captain. Not the point.

But actually crossing the line? Being a part of the thing they were describing if it ever existed? Waiting in the line until one of them picked you for the evening with a promise to do it again after they… Jesus what, tried all the others? No, thank you. You had some dignity left.

Also, you simply couldn’t imagine them doing such thing. Raised in a different era, tried by war and pain and lost, yet remaining the great men they were? Just nope.

“No! Jesus, are you even listening to yourself?” you hissed, minding your volume. You hoped that the low hum of voice in the room, of others working out, giving each other pointers and the noise of the machines would offer you a cover from the rest of your companion.

“What, you wanna tell me they’re not going easy on you? On any chick, really?”

“Yeah, well, maybe because they don’t actually want to break our bones during training. Supersoldiers. Superstrength. Does that ring a bell?” you pointed out, reaching for your water bottle, hoping either of your trainers would forgive you when seeing you only took a sec to have a sip.

Henry scoffed, leaning onto the bag. “Sounds like someone has a crush…”

You couldn’t help the motion of your hands, inconspicuously throwing them in the air in frustration.

Why were you even speaking to them? You should have kept your mouth shut!

“Oh go to hell, Ulrich! You’re just jealous and scared that your girl whom you treat like a piece of shit will run off,” you murmured, wiping your forehead off sweat.

“Yeah, because they’re sure pulling their punches with guys too,” Jim complained again, rolling his eyes as Henry now watched you, eyes narrowed in anger – oh you hit a nail on the head, alright.

You couldn’t but mirror Jim’s action, deciding to stick to Devil’s advocate, because…. yeah, because it wasn’t fair to either Rogers or Barnes. They were good people and didn’t deserve this.

“So they’re not beating the shit out of us like they do with you, get over it.”

“They’re humiliating us! Showing off their big muscles, trying to impress all the chicks-“

You chuckled incredulously as they actually admitted the real reason behind their bitching so openly; as if you hadn’t known the whole time. Ego. Ohhh, the ego was bruised. Call 911, CPR is gonna be needed! God, how did they even live with ego this big? Compensating for something?

“They’re doing their job. Training. Yes, they go a bit harder on you, because your physiology can take it. Did it ever occur to you that they have bigger problems than entering a pissing contest with you just so they could steal the girls? Jeez… just… maybe try to be less of assholes and the girls will be into you too… ”

You missed the hard look Henry gave you, laying down again, this time on your belly to work on your back.

You wheezed when a knee suddenly dug into your back, violently and painfully knocking the air out of your lungs. Before you could react, one of your arms was twisted behind your back, Henry’s voice raspy right into your ear, low and dangerous.

“Listen, you little bitch, you don’t get to talk to me like that. Understand? Huh?”

He was so proving your point, but you didn’t have the time You tried to breathe in properly, and free your arm while pushing up on the free one, your muscles burning with the effort. Shit, he was heavy. You wheezed again instead of the answer.

“Can’t hear you, sweetie. What was that?”

Peripherally, you could see heavy boots approaching rapidly, making a quick guess of who that could be. You gritted your teeth, tears of humiliation pricking your eyes. You were not about to give Henry the satisfaction of proving his point of your trainers being sweet on all the girls even if this so wasn’t that.

“Screw. You,” you let out with the last oxygen left, grabbing his left calf and sharply tugging to the very same side. A half-second later when his weight of you eased just a fraction, you threw your body to the left as well, adding a jerk of your legs.

Both of you rolled over, him ending up under you and you quickly spun away, gasping, desperately fighting for air. As it burned your windpipe, it was as painful as welcomed. Little spots danced inf ornt of your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away – luckily for you, Henry didn’t dare to attack you again.

You shook your head before pushing to sit up, only to meet with Captain Rogers’s strict gaze.

“What the hell is going on in here?” he demanded, sharp blue eyes flickering between the three of you.

Maybe you were hallucinating, but he seemed to be murdering Henry with his eyes. Uh-uh. You would have been glad he was, hadn’t Henry been talking about favouritism only few moments ago. You pushed up simultaneously with him and you both stood straight, facing the captain.

“Apologies, sir,” you stated mechanically, his gaze immediately shifting to you. Your heart stopped. Oh wow, you would swear the blue of his irises was on fire. You gulped. “We had a slight disagreement with Mr. Ulrich. I’m aware I shouldn’t have been talking to him in the first place. I’ll take whatever punishment is given to me.”

“Yeah, I bet you’d liked taking a punishment from him, wouldn’t you…” Jim muttered under his breath, making your gut twist in disgust.

Was he ever not thinking about sex? You prayed the captain didn’t hear him and you had to stop yourself from shooting Jim a murderous glare.  

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Consider it a warning. Mr. Ulrich? You have something to add before you take a few laps?”

You could literally hear Henry’s blood boiling. You opened your mouth to ask for the same punishment, not wanting to have his point proved. You never got the chance to speak.

“No, sir. I only don’t understand why I’m the only one being punished,” Henry questioned innocently and you gritted your teeth.

Maybe because you attacked me, you dickhead?

Captain glared at him for a moment before his gaze shifted to Jim. “You’re not. Mr. Larkin is following your example.”

You pressed your lips together, this time to stop a smile threatening to spread on your lips. God, who knew America’s Golden Boy could get that sassy? You cleared your throat.

“If I might speak, sir, I deserve to run the laps as well,” you noted carefully, earning a curious expression from your superior. You could tell he wavered, a strange spark appearing in his eyes.

You desperately wanted him to let you run too even if you breathing was still a bit difficult; because otherwise Henry would be proved right. Yeah, nope.

“Very well, then. Ten laps around the gym, recruits. Then you move to the station free at the moment. Go. Don’t let it happen again.”

The three of you nodded dutifully and picked up a pace. For some reason, you could feel the captain’s eyes on you while he walked back to assisting his friend with hand-to-hand training. You glimpsed the sergeant leaning to him, probably asking what was that about, but the blond just shook his head.

Towards the eighth lap, you were being overpassed by Henry and Jim, who ran together; faster than you, whether you liked it or not.

“This isn’t over, bitch,” his hateful hiss reached your ears and you picked up speed stubbornly, not showing them that they might intimidate you even for a second.

They wished.

Even when leaving the room after the session was finished, you would swear there was a pair of blue eyes burning a hole to the back of your head. You hoped that you’d soon be free of the captain’s attention.

You sure didn’t want him to watch too closely. You didn’t need him behind your back to see mistakes you sometimes made just like anybody else. Also, it would be harder to admire and ogle him; you did that occasionally, okay. You were just a human, after all.

A Handful of Mistakes

Shauna, your roommate and bestie from science division of SHIELD, was very patient listening to your lament about guys being dicks; she was awesome like that.

So you vigorously vented your frustration with male population, rolled your eyes when mimicking the silent threat of ‘this not being over’, had a very unhealthy piece of cake at the cafeteria that afternoon and moved on.  

You should have known better.

Henry’s words came haunting you few days later; which was too bad, because you had already forgotten about them, until the very moment they had punched you to the face.

…or rather to your shoulder and it wasn’t even a punch, more like one of those bumps people did, especially when they were being jerks, shoving you too hard for you to believe it was an accident.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” you threw over your shoulder sarcastically, continuing your way to the women’s locker room.

In hindsight, that was probably mistake number one; ignoring Henry and not starting a fight right there, not to mention being mouthy.

To be fair, you had no interest in further interaction; you were exhausted from the training, you were sticky and sweaty and all you craved was a shower. You would have just gone to have one at your dorm, but Shauna was having a hot date and you didn’t want to step on her toes. So you had taken your toiletries with you, using the showers near the gym.

Using the gym shower; mistake number two. It meant all of the students being gone by the time you emerged in fresh homey clothes, hair dripping water, because you hated hair-dryers and avoided them unless they were completely necessary.

You had spent much longer in the shower than needed, allowing your muscles to completely relax under the spray of water. That was mistake number three.

The fourth mistake was your pride. When you saw Henry, Jim, George (at least you thought, you weren’t sure, not having many classes with him) and Frank in the corridor, clearly waiting for you, since they bounced off the wall they had been resting against when you appeared, you should have probably been smarter and scream for help right away.

But no, you were being Miss Future Agent and you weren’t intimidated by four equivalents of high school jocks. Yep, this one was definitely the biggest mistake of yours.

“Fellas,” you beckoned to them, passing them gracefully, your bag over your shoulder along with the wet towel.

You barely made a few steps before a hand gripped your arm, harshly tugging you back. Your heart jumped into your throat, but you tried your best not to let it show. You turned to Henry, looking at his face, head tilted back just slightly due to his height.

“Is there a problem, Ulrich?” you asked calmly, earning a lift of his eyebrows at your tone.

“You know there is. I told you it was not over.”

You tried to ignore your pulse skyrocketing and the panic rising in your gut. You were not that stupid – you understood the implications. You knew that with four guys slowly circling you, you would have to fight bites and nails if it came to it and probably still lose. Sometimes it was just better to walk away and swallow your pride; a concept Henry and Jim clearly didn’t understand.

You jerked from Ulrich’s grip, still hoping you could walk away and call it day.

“It is over for me. Now if you’ll excuse me…“

Yes, you were being naïve thinking it would work.

The bag was torn away from your shoulder, your fingers automatically letting go to stay attached to your hand. You gritted your teeth, blood slowly reaching the boiling point.

Also, maybe you were more than just a bit afraid. Not that you would ever admit it to them.

Henry’s hand reached for your chin and your snatched it away in disgust before he could even make contact with your skin. Amusement dances in his eyes along with a flash of anger.

“Oh, kitty has claws?”

You felt another hand on your backside, sending a shudder up your spine, so you grabbed it, shoving it away as well.

Jim. Why weren’t you surprised? Pigs. What the fuck was their problem?

“I’ll let you know when I meet any. Now get out of my way,” you spat, your gut twisting as a sly grin spread on Henry’s face and he made a step right into your route.

“Or what? You’ll scratch, kitty? Or you’ll scream? Like a little girl?” he mocked you in high-pitched voice, his face lowering to yours so you were only inches apart.

“Bet you’d like that,” you murmured, narrowing your eyes when his breath with an unmistakable hint of alcohol fanned over your face. “No, I’ll offer you a breath-mint, because honestly you should do something about your breath.”

Yep, that was the mistake no.5 and definitely an enormous one.

You heard one of the guys chuckle, but you never got to enjoy the thrill of victory.

Out of blue, there was something around your neck, the weight of the towel shifting (add that to the mistake list) and your body flew backwards, colliding with a male one. George was it?

Your hands went to instinctively grab after the towel crushing your throat, but suddenly they were wrested down and pinned to your sides by strong arms. Jim had caught one, Henry another. Fucking cowards.

With your breath coming out short with both lack of oxygen and rising fear, your pulse thundering in your ears, you tried to jerk from their grip, but they wouldn’t budge, having an undeniable advantage.

Oh fuck, fuck, you were so fucked.

“Sassy little mouth, aren’t we?” Henry hummed, wry expression on his ugly face. “So dirty, feels like we should wash it with something. Who wants to go first, fellas?”

Loud alarm bells rang in your head, icy shiver running down your spine, stomach turning over.

Oh no, you don’t.

Your knee snapped up on instinct to gain the momentum, followed by a swift low kick to Jim’s knee.

He yelped and let go of your arm, allowing you to send an elbow straight to George’s face; and finally, your airways were free as the assault as the towel trap loosened.

You coughed, fighting for oxygen and mindlessly threw the item away to have at least one arm free.

“Bitch!” one of the men yelled; you weren’t sure which one, but you didn’t waste time thinking too much. Survival instinct took over.

Tears prickled in the corners of your eyes and you barely silenced the scream when Henry took advantage of your hesitation, twisting your arm behind your back. Fuck he really had a thing for that, didn’t he?

You tried to kick him, but someone else’s leg somehow managed to swept their leg under yours and you fell on your knees. Sharp tug on your hair caused you to cry out and obediently tilt your head back. Few tears escaped you, but you pushed up in attempt to get up again.

A kick coming from behind threw your body forwards and you nearly fell on your face when Henry finally let go of you. You tasted blood as you bit your cheek, but you managed to at least land on your shoulder instead of face-planting.

It still hurt like a bitch, but at least you still had all your teeth… or you thought so, not having time to check. Catching a movement from the corner of your eye, you managed to roll over before a kick to your side could hit you with full force. Frank’s foot only brushed you, but you were sure you’d have a bruise as a souvenir anyway.

A punch landed next to your face when you dodged it in the last moment, someone grabbing your legs and holding them together. Between your efforts to free them, you didn’t have time to chase away the body suddenly holding your arms as well.

“Fuck--- she’s a handful.”

A ragged battle cry erupted from your throat as you tried to jerk your body from their grip on pure instinct, every self-defence move you had ever learned flying of the window.

“More fun to break her, don’t you think?” Henry purred, his hand sneaking around your waist under the hem of your t-shirt.

Your head spun like crazy at the skin-to-skin contact and nausea hitting you hard. You wanted to puke and scream and punch and you couldn’t make yourself to do either, tears rolling down your cheeks as your body convulsed in a desperate attempt to break free.

There was ringing in your ears, disorienting you, but aware of the hand suddenly covering your mouth you tried to bite it on instinct holding you down.

“Oh-ho, biting!“ you heard, strangely muffled as if you were under water.

“I like them feisty-“

“Playing hard to get!”

“Shit, SHIT-“

The pressure on your legs eased all of sudden and you immediately kicked with all you had, catching the rising figure in the calf, knocking them off balance.

“Fuck!”

You would swear the floor vibrated, but in must have only been your mind playing tricks on you. George disappeared from your field of blurry vision; you only saw a fist sending him flying sideways.

Yep, your mind was fucking making up things, because there was no way he could have been thrown away like this by a single punch. You weren’t complaining; the relief the illusion provided was almost blissful.

Henry’s body weight vanished as well in nearly supersonic speed as if he wanted to escape the illusion. So you did the first thing that came to your mind; with your hands free, you grabbed his ankle, stopping him from running away. Which, thinking about it, was stupid, because only a moment before, you would have given anything to get him the fuck away from you.

He kicked back blindly, but his sole never met with your body – he was dragged away and… and lifted to the air as if he weighted nothing.

Blinking your tears away, your fuzzy mind cleared.

Only to reveal a very muscled and very much pissed off blond slamming Henry against a wall and then letting his suddenly unconscious body slide down.

You gasped, your eyes catching a glimpse of the fourth figure – Frank – several feet away, running for his life.

“Buck?!” came a shout and before you could question it, a metal arm emerged from behind the corner, stopping Frank dead as he rushed straight into it.

“Yep?!” the dark-haired supersoldier yelled back, sounding almost amused.

What the hell was happening? What the hell just happened?!

You blood sizzled in your veins, loud and rapid thump-thump-thump banging in your ears, face damp with several shed tears, body aching and your mind fucking racing.

You heard a whimper on your left, automatically turning to the sound. It left Jim’s lips, his form crumbled on the floor, struggling to stand up.

The captain’s knee seemed to come out of nowhere, digging into Jim’s back and pinning him down again before you even registered a movement.

“Is it fucking over now?”

“Steve, let him be. Not worth it,” Barnes’ voice tried to reason, sounding rather growly, but not nearly as loud as before. He approached your group in rapid pace and Rogers scoffed and let go.

You gulped at sergeant’s angry grimace, crazily convinced he was angry with you for all the mistakes you made that lead to this; but his expression softened when his gaze fell on you.

“Hey there,” he greeted you almost casually, holding out a hand to help you up. “Can you stand?”

You blinked several times at the suddenly dispassionate tone, even if you still sensed something bubbling under it. You shook off the thought and accepted the offered hand – the flesh one. The detail didn’t escape you, your bran in overdrive. Of course he hadn’t offered you the metal arm. He didn’t want to scare you. He was thoughtful like that-

-or not. The strength he dragged you up with was way too much for you, more so when combined with the speed and your state. You stumbled over your feet, a wave of dizziness messing with your balance.

You awaited the upcoming reunion with the floor, unable to stop the fall, but it never happened. Before you could as much as reel, gentle hands supported you in a firm grip, pleasantly warm against your bare arms.

“Whoa, take it easy,” Rogers’ voice warned you, soothing. For some reason, it felt more like ‘I got you,’ instead of ‘take it easy.’

You took a deep breath, Barnes’ hand letting go of yours as he semi-voluntarily handed you over to his friend.  

“You’re bleeding from your mouth.”

Thanks for the reminder, I noticed.

You swallowed the snarky remark, well-aware of the sergeant’s care. You fought against the urge to spit the blood out.

“Is fine…” you muttered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Bit my cheek. I’m pretty sure I—“ you quickly ran your tongue over your teeth just to confirm your theory, “-still have all of my teeth.”

Sergeant Barnes gave you a tiny smile, the worried crinkle that had found its way between his brows disappearing.

“Whatever you say.”

His gaze flickered to something behind your head, probably in order of exchanging a wordless conversation with your still present crutch. Not that you were complaining. The weight of what had happened was slowly settling on your shoulders and you were grateful for any support – and who were you kidding, Captain America made for a pretty reliable support.

“Why don’t we leave you in pu- Cap’s capable hands while I-“ Barnes’ jaw clenched, pale eyes scanning the four bodies on the floor, calculating. “-take out the trash?”

You nearly choked at the choice of his words, wincing. Captain Rogers’ hands squeezed your shoulders reassuringly and you nodded, not sure what else to do.

You didn’t want to look at Henry. Or Jim. Or their loyal companions.

So when the captain carefully spun you on your heels, you didn’t protest and your feet started moving on autopilot in the direction he had set.

“You okay to walk without support?” he asked softly, a stark contrast to the voice you remembered from earlier or from the training sessions.

You knew that if you said yes, he would let go of you. Honestly, his touch felt damn nice, firm and yet somewhat gentle, a pleasant contrast to harsh fingers of the men who had the nerve to attack you – you had to swallow bile rising to your mouth at the awfully fresh memory. Fuck, it had been so close, just a minute later and--- you shook your head mentally and tried your best to erase this memory from existence.

You decided not to abuse the kindness the captain was offering. After several indulging steps, you quietly confirmed he could release you. You found out that sensing his large frame by your side as if he was your bodyguard was nearly as comforting. Nearly.

You didn’t have the strength admonish yourself for basking the light of his protective persona. Future agent of not, you still had the right to want to feel secure at times.

After all, you were only human.

A Handful of Truths

You didn’t realize you were shaking until a blanket was tossed over your shoulders.

You were sitting on a short couch in what looked like a cosy office, hair still damp, body finally registering the ache caused by previous events, just like your brain was slowly taking in what had happened.

Captain Rogers, whose courtesy was to escort you from the hellhole you had been attacked in, had clearly took it as a personal mission to take care of your injuries; it hadn’t dawned to you until you were seated and your mind helpfully supplied you with ‘This isn’t the infirmary’.

He pulled a swivel chair to sit face to face with you, a box of medical supplies left open on the coffee table at your side. You didn’t realize he had moved the chair or dug the box from god-knew-where until the items were simply there.

“How do you feel?” he inquired, attentive eyes scanning your hunched form. You instinctively curled onto yourself, snuggling further into the blanket. You knew you should come up with an answer, but your brain started to hurt with the effort to do so. “I guess that’s fair. Can you tell me what hurts the most?”

You quickly glanced at his openly kind face, his baby blues still watching for any reaction that would clue him. Your throat went dry at the compassion of display and you had to swallow before speaking – and think. What hurt the most…?

You didn’t know what possessed you to tell him what you did, but it came out before you could stop yourself.

“My pride,” you croaked, causing his eyebrows jump just like the corner of his lips.

“That’s probably fair too. Then again, I’d rather know about something I can fix.”

You felt your body relax a little at his informal tone – you might even say a jovial one, but you could still sense too much worry behind it to call it that. You attempted a tiny smile at least to show him that you were more or less fine – you weren’t – and brilliantly failed.

“Landed on my shoulder. Probably gonna have a bruise on my side from when… when they kicked me. Ribs and arms might be a bit tender for few days, ‘cause they were heavy as they--- they’re heavy,” you voice wavered as you saw the muscles on the captain’s forearms clench and his hands curled up in fists. You sheepishly looked up to his face. “I got lucky.”

His eyebrows rose again in a ‘figures’ manner as he leaned back to the chair.

“Nothing else apart from that, your cheek and your pride?”

“I’m a little cold, but you took care of that,” you admitted, taking a deep breath in as you tugged on the blanket pointedly.

Despite what you were saying, you didn’t feel okay, the tremble never quite leaving your body. It wasn’t hard to figure out why. You stared at your knight in shining armour, gathering courage to do what was needed. You tried your best to meet his gaze, feeling so small and embarrassingly weak in front of him.

“Could have been much worse if you haven’t showed up. Thank you.”

He pressed his lips together, shaking his head. He leaned in, his elbows on his knees.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t faster... I should have kept closer eye on Ulrich,” he muttered under his breath, making you wonder if you only imagined it. “Your pride shouldn’t be hurt. You held yourself against them just fine.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the honestly his voice held – and you were honestly grateful for the slight shift of attention. Oh. Had he forgotten how things had been when he had arrived?

You weren’t sure whether you should remind him. You definitely didn’t want to remind yourself, but before you could solve your little dilemma, he clarified.

“You haven’t started training the combat against multiple opponents yet. Let alone four opponents, all of them having both height and weight advantage. You couldn’t exactly go all Black Widow on them if no one showed you how.”

He accented his words with a reassuring smile and you almost believed him. The shivers finally eased, most likely thanks to the warm treatment you were being given in all senses of the word. The inner cold gradually melted and you were left in nothing but pleasant warmth.

Mentally, you patted your pride gently on its head; you couldn’t quite disagree with him. No matter how helpless you had felt earlier and how ashamed for it you were, the truth was you were still learning. You weren’t a finished agent yet.

You breathed in and out, avoiding the gaze that was still on you. It felt like a freaking brand with how intense it was. You couldn’t say you hated it necessarily, you only wished you at least didn’t look so pathetic. No make-up, probably red with a smudge on blood somewhere, perhaps with some bruising already forming, hair wet and messy. You absently ran your fingers through it in attempt to fix it a bit as if it could help.

What had you been talking about? Right… those assholes being cowards and coming at your four against one.

“I… I just fucking hate bullies,” you grumbled darkly, your hand immediately covering your mouth when you realized what you had said. Oh. Language. Still your superior you’re talking to, no matter how nice. “Sorry. Please, pretend you didn’t hear the f-word. I just hate bullies, period.”

“I might have sworn earlier too, so let’s call it even,” the captain offered, one corner of his lips raised. Oh. He had, hadn’t he? ‘Is it fucking over now?’ What did that even mean? “And so I heard.”

“What?” you yelped, your mind racing again in search for the meaning behind his words.

“I mean… I heard you. When you were defending Bucky, in the gym. I’m pretty sure your exact words were about a ‘pissing contest’.”

“Oh god,” you breathed out, your face no doubt set aflame. He had heard you; that was why he had said he should have kept a closer eye on Henry. Oh. Ohhhh.

Also, did he just say ‘pissing’?

“You weren’t wrong by the way. But… neither were them.”

You blinked in surprise. What? “About?”

You knew he didn’t mean the sleeping around with recruits, your gut was screaming that at you, because they wouldn’t, but still, you rather asked for clarification. If he didn’t mean that part, which one then?

“Ladies do fall over for Bucky,” he hummed with a lopsided smile, a playful twinkle in his eyes. It did something to your belly, a strange familiar shift that was very inappropriate, but hell, people needed to cut you some slack. He was impossible not to ogle and you didn’t have the energy to control your reaction after today’s events. “And I don’t really pull my punches when I’m training those two in particular.”

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself and think better of it.

His gaze bored into yours, burning with intensity and with a glint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“I don’t like bullies either.”

Did he lean in even more or were you so focused on his face it only seemed closer?

You weren’t able to look away. His blue eyes simply locked you in, not allowing you to escape. The strangest thing was that it wasn’t scary. It should be, he was— he was a freaking captain, your superior, a superior to a lot of people, which you were constantly forgetting ever since he had saved you from falling on your ass in the hallway and you had to remember that.

Before you could though, your racing mind packed up and let your body, your mouth to be precise, act without supervision.

“Not trying to impress the ladies then, huh?”

His tiny sheepish smile cut off the uprising panic in your chest when you realized how bold of you was to say that. He lowered his gaze, giving a subtle shrug. “Guess I wouldn’t want one falling for guy’s muscles and a show-off of dominance.”

“What for then? Honesty? Sincerity? Kind eyes? Strong moral compass?” you heard yourself prying, internally horrified how far you had come when saying that. Your face was drained of colour when it clicked. You were literally naming things you liked about him, absolutely shamelessly putting them in the open. Oh shit. Fix it, fix it, fix it! “…the sass?”

His eyes went wide and he burst out laughing so loud it startled you for a second, especially as he threw his head back with the outburst. Then you reluctantly joined him, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

“The sass!” he howled, unable to hold back another fit of laughter and when you peeked at him through between your fingers, you saw his palm resting against his chest as if it could help him stop laughing.

Just like that, blood rushed back into your cheeks.

“Oh god, I made it worse!” you cried out, wishing for the earth to swallow you, frantically looking around for the fastest escape route. “Oh my god, I have to switch schools now… excuse me-“

You hastily got up from your seat, but a quick hand snatched yours, pulling you back.

You stumbled, landing ungracefully right back in your place, this time without the blanket. Captain Rogers was watching you with the corners of his lips high, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Sorry for grabbing you like that. But no, please. Stay.”

Your throat closed off when you heard his soft plea, only traces of humour in it. Yeah, you bet he hadn’t met anyone with such big mouth for a while, so he thought it was better to keep the comic around.

“Captain Rogers, I-I- what I said, it was completely out of line-“ you stuttered, only to be interrupted.

“Were you making it up?” he questioned.

You gulped, your mind screaming at you to say yes to save you the humiliation. And yet, with the cerulean irises staring into your eyes, your mouth did the exact opposite.

“No.”

Dammit.

“Then why would you go?” he questioned softly. His hand still didn’t leave yours, only easing the grip into a kinder one. You felt like a brand was being burned into your skin. A pleasant one, so you didn’t retreat. Oh, you’d never. But what on Earth was he getting at? “We need someone honest like you. People who stand up for others, even if only to defend their honour. That is the kind of people who should be in this line of work. The good ones.”

You opened your mouth, no sound coming out as his speech shook you to your core, tickling your stomach pleasantly along with your pride. His words seemed to be coming from heart, genuine, which was not helping your blood pressure and suddenly wobbling limbs.

“Even when they have potty mouth and put their foot in it? ‘Cause I seem to excel in that.”

“Especially then,” he chuckled and you could tell there was no pinch of a lie in it.

Something was in the air, crackling deliciously, and you liked it. You wouldn’t be able to describe it properly, the feeling simply too unique, but it was tickling your fancy so weren’t about to complain.

“O-okay. Thank you, Captain,” you whispered, revelling in the sight of the gentle curve of his lips.

“You started with the compliments, Agent.”

And just like that, you wanted to run for your life again, drowning in embarrassment.

What were you even still doing here? Complimenting him? Enjoying his touch? Flirting with him?

Were you nuts?!

Him, a captain— no, the captain. And you, an agent--- hell, you were not even an agent yet!

The captain whose eyes flickered to not-an-agent’s lips for the shortest of moments, widening a fraction before returning to her eyes.

Oh, now you were definitely going nuts. You were hallucinating. You must have hit your head too. He wasn’t into you and you being into him was very stupid.

You should go.

…any moment now.

…just get off your ass for god’s sake-

“Can I ask you something?”

You blinked yourself back to reality, shushing the voice in your head, curious smile appearing on your lips involuntarily. The softness of his voice felt better than the blanket before and you wanted to cocoon yourself in it, postponing the leaving plans to never.

“Sure,” you replied, the smile remaining on your face despite your better judgement.

He lowered his eyes to your joined hands, his thumb running over the back of your hand in a feather-light touch. You heart positively stopped at the moment, your breath hitching. Holy shit, what was he doing?

“This, does it… do you hate it?” he whispered the question, not meeting your eyes as if he was too shy, which was… ridiculous. He had no reason to be shy.

It still felt like a shot through your heart – a nice one, though, it that was possible. The words combined with the way they were spoken, it stirred something in your belly, warming it up and you couldn’t deny it anymore.

You really wanted this man; whatever this was, it was getting beyond a silly crush. Also, for some reason, it seemed as if he was trying to tell you he was interested too, which you thought was pretty freaking crazy.

“Stay honest, please,” he pleaded when you didn’t answer right away.

Did you hate it? The chastest display of affection if you dared to call it that? Your mind raced, trying to figure out why on earth he would ask that. Because the only reason you had come up with so far was completely impossible.

“No,” you said simply, earning a brief glance up before he looked down again. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Good. That’s good… and would you… I’m aware this is out of line and I—I want you to answer truthfully without fearing the consequences-…“

It was your turn to swallow loudly, because what? What did he want to ask that he considered it out of line? He was your superior – you could think of thousand ways of how you could get out of line, but him? And why should you fear the consequences?! Did he want you to help him to hide a body?

That’s not it and you know it. You know what he wants to ask, you rational side admonished you.

Oh please, shut up. Since when you switched sides?

“O-okay. What— what is it-- Steve?” you stuttered out, freezing when his name left your lips and his head snapped up, his hand giving yours a squeeze. Oh boy.

“Would you possibly say you like it?” he blurted out and your brain went to overdrive at the hope behind his expression.

Huh. He really just asked that. Oh shit. Oh wow. Your jaw fell into your lap – only figuratively, you hoped –, your ears buzzing, your blood bursting in excitement.

Oh yeah, you understood why he mentioned the consequences. Either you could say no and you’d fear he might treat you differently or you could say yes and you’d ‘fear’ he might treat you differently.

The fire in your insides burned hotter at the idea of the latter.

His hand slowly left yours, giving you a simple choice you still couldn’t believe you were given.

Holy shit. What do you even say to something like that? Coming from someone like him? Your brain froze as you only managed to stare.

Did his— did the corners of his lips turn down? Was that sadness pooling in the sea of blue of his eyes?

Oh no, you don’t.

“Y-yes,” you admitted sheepishly, closing your eyes at the heaviness of your confession.

You could feel the weight on your shoulders as silence fell, only interrupted by your soft breathing that sounded ominously loud.

Your fingers twitched when his warm palm covered them again, your lips parting in surprise. You kept your eyes closed, indulging the strange moment. His free hand caressed your other as well, the gentlest of touches, tender, contrasting with rough callouses on his fingers.

“I like it too.”

At that, you gathered enough courage to look at him, only to see him inspecting your face closely, observing your reactions. It shocked you that it wasn’t uncomfortable as you would expect; must have been the kindness and wonder in his gaze. You forced your lips to curl up in a tiniest smile. Steve smiled back with same hesitance, his face lighting up.

He looked like a boy next door (making it to a modelling agency), shining eyes and happy grin forming on his lips. He was more gorgeous than ever.

Still keeping your hands, he raised his right one, his knuckles brushing your unharmed cheek. The gesture was so tender it brought tears into your eyes, causing him quickly retreat.

“Sorry-“

You shook your head with a self-deprecating chuckle, squeezing his fingers before he could let go of you completely.

“It’s not you—I mean… it is you,” you babbled nonsensically, taking a breath to gather your thoughts. “It’s just— that was really sweet. No, that’s not-“ Not the right word. “It was beautiful. I swear I never felt so…” loved “-cared for in my life.”

He frowned, a shadow of pain running over his face. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I know that today was… unpleasant.”

Seeing his reluctance and discomfort, you went for the first thing that came up to your mind. You straightened up and pressed a light kiss on his cheek, withdrawing much slowly because once you were in his orbit, it was hard to leave.

His breath hitched, his eyes glued to you intently, flickering to your lips again.

“You didn’t upset me, Steve. That’s the last thing you could do with that,” you assured him, face still inches from his. His name rolled off your tongue easily this time, even though it still left your heart fluttering.

“And if I asked you to have dinner with me?”

Your stomach twisted in a pleasant knot at that suggestion, your lizard brain already thinking about having a dessert for a second; and you weren’t thinking cake or ice-cream.

Yeah, barely. This was a guy ready to treat you right, you were sure of it. He certainly wasn’t about to kiss you now, not afar what happened today, he might go for it after the dinner and that was only if you got lucky enough. You swallowed the disappointment at the idea, quickly shaking it off.

Make up your goddamn mind, woman. You should be glad that men who weren’t thinking with their lower brain still existed and one of those was clearly interested in you, which… yeah, what the hell, that might take a while getting used to. Add the fact that he was being incredibly considerate of how you might feel after being assaulted and you had a winner of your heart. You realized you were actually happy he wouldn’t try anything even nearly ‘funny’.

You were fine with hand-holding and brushes of his fingers on your face, which honestly, the tenderness behind that gesture made you toes curl. You didn’t care much if that made you a freaking sap.

“Still not upset,” you gave an answer at last, deciding he probably liked when you were a bit cheeky.

He offered a closed lipped smile in response, confirming your theory.

“Does that count like a yes?”

You shrugged, the corners of your lips twitching. You had no idea when the change had happened, but all you wanted now was to giggle. And maybe snuggle, but you weren’t about to say that out loud.

“You tell me.”

He licked his lips and shook his head as he retreated. Before you could protest – or have a heart attack, because the motion of his tongue attracted your gaze like a magnet, setting your core on fire –, he sat beside you, leaving enough space in case you didn’t like it.

You liked it, subtly moving an inch closer to his side. Damn, he radiated warmth. Maybe just a bit closer…?

“Cheeky dame, aren’t you?” Steve more stated than asked, reaching for the blanket pooled around you to cover you again.

You didn’t realize you had goosebumps before his hands gently tugged you in, careful not to touch you where you could consider it inappropriate.

Yeah, forget about any funny business any time soon.

You huffed. “Clearly. It did get me into trouble before.”

His eyes darkened a bit, his face noticeably falling.

No, nope, bad move, miss not-an-agent.

“I should walk you back to your dorm,” he remarked, already rising to his feet.

You first reaction was to say no, because you weren’t ready to say goodbye yet. Your second was to say no also, because Shauna probably still had her hot date.

Instead, your hand shot up to catch his, effectively stopping him. He froze before returning to his seat, tiny question mark in a place of his face right next to his soft smile.

You cleared your throat, deciding to give him the latter reason.

“Uhm… my roommate has a date. If I go there, I’ll probably find a sock on the doorknob,” you admitted, biting your lip when he raised an eyebrow and relaxed to the cushions.

“People still do that?”

You chuckled, the fact that not only he was a captain, but also Captain America, which meant he was about hundred years old, hitting you like a train.

“Yeah, people still do that,” you assured him, amused.

He pouted, which you found unfairly adorable and… kissable. Nope, later.

“Sure, make fun of the old man…” he uttered, but a spark of laughter lighted up in his irises, so you assessed he wasn’t too offended. He was most likely used to the teasing.

As an idea of interpreting his words differently popped in your mind, you grinned.

“Is that a permission to make fun of Sergeant Barnes?” you pried playfully, sending Steve into another surprised fit of laughter, not unlike when you had complimented his sass. Your heart swelled at the joyful picture of him and the prospect of seeing more of it in future.

Due to his laughter, you didn’t hear he knock on the door if there was any n the first place. The door simply swung open, revealing the other supersoldier. Speak of the Devil…

Seeing his friend, Steve burst out laughing once more. Sergeant Barnes closed the door with a puzzled look.

You just shrugged in response, opening your mouth without a sound coming out and he took in the scene in front of him again, a smirk appearing on his lips. Under that gaze, you felt your face heat up. You could only imagine how that looked like, Steve cosily close to you, laughing, your hand right next to his thigh as his outburst had sent it sliding from his hand.

The smirk on the supersoldier’s face only deepened when he noticed how flustered he had made you.

“Punk?” he questioned and Steve wheezed once more, raising a palm in the sergeant’s direction, turning to you first.

He offered you a hand to shake. Confused, you accepted as his eyes twinkling in mischief bored into yours.

“Deal,” he mouthed, sending your lips twitching, and only then he shifted his attention to his friend. “Buck?”

The supersoldier had his eyes narrowed, watching you suspiciously.

“I’m gonna regret sending you with her instead of doing it the other way around, aren’t I?” he stated, not actually asking as his gaze flickered between the two of you.

His expression pushed you over the edge and the giggle building up in your chest for the last few minutes finally broke free. You simply couldn’t contain it anymore despite having two superiors in the room. Steve gave you a warm smile as the sound left your lips, clearly not bothered by it.

You hoped you’d be forgiven by Sergeant Barnes as well. After all, you were just human.

“Yeah, Buck, I think you are.”

S.R. masterlist

Sorry for the cavities at the end. Or should I say ‘you’re welcome’? Whatever works for you :))

Thank you for reading! 

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #mcu #marvel #shield #shield recruit reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #captain america #just a human #anika ann

[cheesybadgers]

Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 10)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24

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Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 6,007

Summary: Set loosely (and I mean loosely as there is some significant canon divergence) during Our Man in Madrid and The Good, the Bad, and the Dead, Search Bloc begin to make inroads, but at what cost? Javier’s and Horacio’s unwavering trust in each other has unexpected consequences and the penny finally drops for Steve.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Canon-typical violence, non-graphic description of a gunshot wound/being shot, brief smut but nothing explicit, discussions of sexuality and unintentionally coming out, angst, smoking, swearing. 

Notes: Well, this took an absolute age to edit for a variety of reasons, so I’m not even going to guess at when chapter 11 will be ready 😂 Most of the first draft is done though at least. Also, I know it may not look like it given the way this chapter ends, but I promise this is still a fix-it fic 😉 Thanks to anyone still reading, commenting, liking/kudosing etc.! 

Whilst obviously I do not own Narcos or its characters, please do not copy, re-post, or plagiarize this fic in any capacity on this or other platforms. If you wish to create any fan works inspired by it, please provide a credit or send me a message if in doubt.

Chapter 10: A Leap Of Faith

When you’d been in Colombia for as long as Javier and were more at home than most in areas saturated with grey, you were bound to forge unlikely alliances. Which was why it should have been a shock to no one when a tip-off from Don Berna of all people fell into his lap. A tip-off that gave him the location of the Moncadas’ largest cocaine lab, no less.

With help from the DEA, Search Bloc raided the lab and captured its employees – including a well-known sicario named Gato – in the process.

Once back at Carlos Holguín, Gato and his accomplice were transferred to a helicopter waiting to take them to Bogotá for questioning.

“Are you coming?” Horacio asked both agents, although his eyes honed in on Javier.

Javier shook his head with a knowing look at the “Happy now?” expression Horacio carried.

“Yeah, I’m in,” Steve replied at the same time, undeterred by Javier’s refusal.

In fact, Javier was damn sure it was quite the opposite. An air of tension had lingered between them ever since the night he drove off and left Steve hanging. No more words were spoken on the subject, but sometimes silence made the loudest sound.

The way Javier and Horacio had avoided Steve’s questions of late almost felt cruel, even if it was necessary. So, giving Steve a wide berth for now and letting him go with Horacio alone was the wisest option as far as Javier was concerned. Despite not being sure any gesture other than the truth would be enough to satisfy Steve’s curiosity by this stage.

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Horacio was glad of the noise from the chopper once they were in the air, although he could feel Murphy’s gaze on him as he questioned Gato.

Holding Gato’s arms behind his back, Horacio pushed him towards the edge of the open hatch. “It’s a long way down if you can’t give us anything, Gato.”

“I’m not telling you shit, you son of a bitch!” Gato yelled back over the hum of the airflow. Although there was a distinct crack in his voice for all his bravado.

“Are you sure you don’t want to re-think that?” Horacio tried again, this time dangling the sicario’s head over the precipice as his grip on Gato’s arms tightened at his back.

“Fuck you!” came Gato’s reply through gritted teeth, grimacing at the increased force.

Horacio expertly pinned Gato to the floor with one arm, his other reaching into his back pocket to retrieve a flick knife. He released the blade before scoring it along the nape of Gato’s neck and across his cheek, denting but not breaking the skin. “Last chance, asshole,” he breathed against his ear as he jabbed the cool metal under his chin, teetering on the very brink of drawing blood.

Gato let out a shrill scream followed by a series of desperate pleas. “Alright, alright, alright! Please! I’ll talk!”

Horacio didn’t believe he would when it came to it. But he also figured Gato and his silent friend would get themselves killed by Pablo’s men if they did. Or, they’d be left to rot in jail if they kept their mouths shut. Either way, they’d be off the streets of Medellín and would no longer be his problem.

It wasn’t that his disdain towards these low lives had subsided since his return. But he was tired of carrying the responsibility for them. He wasn’t so much sparing them but rather himself by leaving their fates in someone else’s hands. They were cannon fodder, who Escobar didn’t give the time of day, so why should Horacio? It wasn’t as though most of them had anything significant to confess anyway. It had taken Javier’s C.I. to get them the lab locations, after all.

Once they had landed in Bogotá and Horacio had transferred the two men into custody, he was faced with the awkward prospect of travelling back to Medellín with Murphy. This time without the much-needed distraction of a sicario or two to threaten.

Murphy had been suspiciously quiet for the vast majority of the journey to Bogotá but had studied Horacio intently from the safety of his seat. Horacio sensed he was under forensic examination from the moment they’d taken off. To the extent that he tried to keep his mind as blank as possible just in case Murphy could read that as well.

Horacio avoided making eye contact, preferring to stare out the hatch of the chopper instead. But it only got him so far.

Steve leaned forwards in his seat, elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped together. “So, were you on your best behaviour for my benefit, or did Javi put you up to it? I bet it was Javi, wasn’t it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You. Some might say you’ve lost your touch, Carrillo.”

Horacio fought down the temptation to wipe the arrogant smirk off Murphy’s face, settling for a stern glare instead. “A bunch of kids and a couple of sicarios who were never gonna get us close to Pablo? Why break a butterfly on a wheel, Murphy?”

“Pretty sure that’s never stopped you before,” Steve scoffed. “I guess Madrid really did soften you up, huh?” He couldn’t resist a self-satisfied chuckle at his own jibe as he leaned back again and folded his arms.

Horacio merely rolled his eyes and muttered several lesser-known expletives in Spanish loud enough for Murphy to hear but apparently not understand. 

He was vaguely aware of Murphy shouting “What?!” but pretended he hadn’t heard and resisted the urge to clarify it wasn’t Madrid per se that had softened him up.

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Search Bloc continued to chip away at Escobar’s business in a string of raids, seizing or burning large quantities of coke and cash as they went. And taking down any sicarios who got in their way. Horacio may have curtailed some of his more extreme methods, but this was still a war. If someone aimed fire at him or his men, there was no moral dilemma to agonise over.

As news of the lab sieges spread, it wasn’t long before Escobar made his next move against Horacio, this time with the assistance of Valeria Vélez. A story ran on her news programme about the night Search Bloc apprehended the spotters. The boy Horacio caught on the rooftops had gone on record to allege Horacio murdered one of the spotters in cold blood and in full view of the others. An unnamed DEA agent was also reported to have been at the scene.

All it had taken was a slight twist of the truth. One simultaneously so close to what did happen and what could have happened. What almost happened. A fact Horacio was all too aware of. And one that only exacerbated the gnawing guilt that had settled in his gut since that night.

To add insult to injury, soon after the report aired, he received a phone call from one of his superiors. The higher-ups seemed to believe his version of events, much to their annoyance. If it had been their decision rather than Gaviria’s, Horacio would never have been reinstated in the first place. So, naturally, they couldn’t resist an opportunity to remind him of the consequences the last time he overstepped. Or that their reputations would be on the line if the President of all people came asking questions. And that there were other candidates they had in mind for the job if Horacio wasn’t up to the task. Never mind all the payoffs they had let fly under the radar year after year. So long as they kept their noses and uniforms clean, that’s all that mattered, apparently.

After the frustrations of his phone call, Horacio was glad to blow off steam with yet another raid. And with Javier back at base afterwards. Since the night in the alleyway – or rather the conversations that followed it – they had fallen into a risky routine of dispelling any leftover adrenaline in the darkest and most deserted parts of the school. Giving in to a primal need to be as close as possible to each other after the thrill of the chase hadn’t hit the spot. Because nothing could compare to this.

It was always frantic and to the point, saving their more indulgent moments for the rare occasions when they managed to sneak back to Horacio’s apartment. Horacio’s seniority meant no one questioned his whereabouts. And it wouldn’t have taken a genius to hazard a guess where Javier might have slipped off to in the middle of the night.

This time they had wound up in an abandoned classroom, hidden by shadows but for sporadic streaks of moonlight catching on their combined silhouette. Javier’s palms were splayed across the wall, steadying his balance and grounding him whilst Horacio’s hips slammed into his own. Unleashing every ounce of pent-up energy with each controlled movement. Relentless and rough, yet somehow still tender in a way that only two people who knew each other inside out could be in such circumstances.

Their ragged breaths and muffled grunts filled the room as they hurtled over the edge almost in tandem. Horacio’s teeth sunk into the smooth flesh of Javier’s shoulder as the sweet relief of his release crashed over him. For those blissful few seconds, the tension was gone, and his mind was quiet.

Spent and out of breath, they zipped themselves up and sank to the floor, leaning back on the wall they’d just fucked against.

“Maybe your bosses should phone you more often,” Javier teased, holding out the cigarette he’d lit in his post-coital haze.

Horacio leaned closer to accept it, his lips brushing over the shell of Javier’s ear in the process. “I don’t need an excuse to do that with you.”

Javier chuckled and tilted his head, chasing the tingling rush spreading across his hypersensitive skin. “I should hope not.”

Splintered pale light filtered through the blinds, highlighting the glistening sheen of their afterglows and their playful smirks. And the way Horacio’s smile soon faded. “Has anyone said anything to you yet?”

“Messina asked a few questions, but nothing I couldn’t handle.” To say Messina was less than impressed by the news story was an understatement. Although more because it was probably giving her an administrative headache than anything else.

“I’m sorry if I’ve caused you more problems.”

“If it hadn’t been this, Escobar would’ve tried something else, and you know it.”

Horacio hummed in agreement and took a long drag on their shared smoke. He couldn’t argue with that or the unspoken fact that Escobar wouldn’t stop at this, either. The news story hadn’t gained the intended traction and would likely blow over. But then what? It was a tame move by Pablo’s standards, and there was no way this was the end of it. He couldn’t say for sure what was coming next, but he was already bracing himself for the impact.

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After Search Bloc’s flurry of raids, all was quiet for a good week or so until Centra Spike intercepted several calls involving a known sicario, Edgar Prisco.

The transmissions led to a successful op on a pool hall in Manrique, which took out another of the Moncadas’ labs and three of the Prisco brothers.

It didn’t go without a hitch, though, when Steve disappeared by himself into the comunas on the tail of one of the surviving siblings, Ricardo.

Following a frantic few minutes after hearing gunfire over the radio, Javier tracked his partner down, who miraculously was still alive and well despite his best efforts not to be. Whilst things between them had been more strained than usual, Javier obviously didn’t wish any harm to come to Steve. No matter how much of a pain in the ass he was sometimes.

“The fuck were you thinking?” Javier threw at him as soon as he’d pulled the car door shut.

“I was this fuckin’ close, Javi,” Steve replied, gesturing with his hand whilst trying to catch his breath.

Javier scoffed without looking at his partner as he navigated the car back to safer territory. “To getting what’s left of your brain blown out? Yeah, you probably were.”

“Oh, come on, I’m fine. I wasn’t even hit. But let’s not tell Connie about this when she gets here.”

“When does she get here?”

“Tomorrow. Well, to Bogotá at least. Hoping to go visit over the weekend, assuming Messina won’t have my balls for it. Or Crosby. Sounds like he’s on the warpath.”

“How d’you mean?”

“Apparently, the suits are getting jumpy about us working so closely with Search Bloc after that news story. Messina’s been holding ‘em off, but for how much longer, who knows?”

“And you know this how exactly?”

“The meeting this afternoon. Y’know, I don’t think those are supposed to be optional. Where were you anyway?”

“I was…busy.” Not entirely untrue. It was supposed to be a quick visit to Horacio’s office but descended into desperate mouthing and groping with his back shoved against the wall between the door and the corner of the room. An apparent blind spot should anyone chance a glance through the glass.

“Convenient,” Steve replied with a wry smile. He let a natural lull in their conversation fall before pressing further. “You sure nothin’ happened that night?”

“Fuck’s sake, Steve, not this again. You don’t actually believe that bullshit, do you?” Heat flooded Javier’s cheeks at Steve’s topic swerve, his shackles instantly raised.

“No, ‘course not! I’m fully fuckin’ aware of what Escobar’s capable of, and lying is the least of it. It’s just, don’t you think Carrillo seems…different these days?”

“Different? How so?” Javier tried to keep his tone casual this time but had no idea if he’d succeeded as all he could hear was his own heart pounding in his chest.

“I dunno, less ruthless, I guess.”

Javier gulped and would have been amazed if Steve hadn’t heard it too. “Probably wants to keep his job this time,” he eventually offered, although his words stuck like sawdust in the back of his throat.

“Hmm maybe.”

Much to Javier’s relief, the subject was dropped, and the rest of the journey back to base was quiet, even if their minds weren’t.

------------------------------------------------------

Steve’s doubts over how long Messina could hold Crosby at arm’s length rang true in the following days when the DEA was told in no uncertain terms that they weren’t to leave base. An instruction that went out the window after Javier received an unexpected call from Gabriela of all people. She didn’t elaborate on the phone, but the urgency in her voice indicated it must be something serious for her to call him at work.

When he arrived at her apartment, it took him a while to notice the young brunette woman sitting on the bed. Her back was hunched, and her head hung low as though she was trying to make herself appear smaller. It was body language he came across often in his line of work. Especially amongst those who were in so deep, he was their last resort.

“She’s a friend of a friend. Please just hear her out, Javi. She’s in trouble,” Gabriela confirmed in response to Javier’s quizzical look. “Maritza, this is Javier.”

Javier looked between the two women, scrubbing his hand back and forth across his upper lip. He was caught between his reluctance to get involved and the fact he had said Gabriela could call him if she ever needed anything. She was only doing as he’d said she could, which was why he sat down in a chair next to the bed and lit up a cigarette. “Who are you in trouble with, Maritza?”

“La Quica.” There was no need for Maritza to elaborate, given the history La Quica had with the DEA. With Steve in particular.

“La Quica? You know him?”

“He wants to kill me.”

Javier did his best to bite back the laugh bubbling in his chest, sensing this might be a waste of his time. “I think you’ll find you’re in good company there. Why does he want to kill you?”

“Because I can tell you where Pablo Escobar is.”

On second thoughts, now she had his attention. “And how are you gonna do that?”

“I know exactly where and when he’ll be tomorrow.”

------------------------------------------------------

Javier didn’t waste any time heading back to base with Maritza’s story, including the detail she was childhood friends with Escobar’s chauffeur, Limón. She had served as a cover in the back seat of Limón’s taxi whilst he drove Escobar around Medellín in the trunk. So that’s how the fucker had been getting about town unnoticed.

“And this Maritza girl just came to you with this?” Steve queried once Javier and Horacio had joined him and Trujillo.

“Yeah, erm, well, through a friend.”

“A friend?” Trujillo gently mocked with a sceptical brow.

“Fuck off, it wasn’t like that,” Javier snorted, hoping his sudden discomfort wasn’t detectable beneath the friendly banter. “It was strictly business.” Despite the fact he was responding to Trujillo, his eyes fell heavily on Horacio.

Horacio got the message, although soon averted his gaze at the unshakeable feeling they were being watched. “I just need to know whether you trust the information, that’s all.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

There was little certainty to be found in their day-to-day lives, but each other’s word was an unwavering constant. In so many ways, it was illogical and a blind leap of faith. But Horacio had made up his mind as soon as Javier spoke.

“Okay then. When Maritza gives us Pablo’s location, I want Centra Spike up in the air to confirm.”

------------------------------------------------------

Javier returned to his desk, waiting with bated breath for his phone to ring. The longer he stared into space with a neglected cigarette burning between his thumb and forefinger, the more his mind spiralled.

This could be it after all these years. After everything they’d been through. After everything they’d lost – and gained. It was almost too surreal to believe after so many near-misses. But in a few hours’ time, it could all be over, and they’d finally be free. To do what, Javier had no fucking clue, though.

He and Horacio hadn’t exactly got to discussing life after Escobar yet. Part of that was fear of tempting fate as much as anything else. Sometimes even just thinking such thoughts was akin to jinxing themselves, so talk of the future had remained the elephant in the room whilst Pablo was still around. But if they pulled this off, they could start to look ahead for the first time. If being the operative word. He couldn’t let himself get carried away at this stage. Anything could happen, and that wasn’t being pessimistic; it was a sobering fact.

He couldn’t say how long he’d been sitting lost in his head when his phone rang. “Peña.”

“9th Street, 98-3.”

“Okay. Got it.”

Javier took the address straight to Centra Spike before stopping by Horacio’s office.

Horacio stood with his back to the door, his attention focused on the wall of awards above him. Even with this limited view, Javier could see how tightly drawn every muscle in his body was. From the rigid hold of his spine to the way his fists clenched at his sides. Not surprising for a man carrying the weight and expectations of his country on his bruised and weary shoulders.

Familiar arms slotted around Horacio from behind, large palms enveloping his waist. Strong, steady and anchoring. They were the still waters to the turbulent riptide surging through his veins, threatening to break him apart from the inside out.

Javier nuzzled himself against Horacio’s shoulder, placing the barest trace of kisses along his neck. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Those whispered words of comfort dripped into Horacio’s ear like warm panela, and he reflexively leaned into Javier with a deep exhale as their fingers entwined across his stomach. Even though this had to be a fleeting moment of calm amid the chaos of war, he could already feel his heart rate beginning to level out. Home.

------------------------------------------------------

By the time Centra Spike obtained the recordings they were waiting for, Messina had arrived from Bogotá. She was soon crammed into a meeting room with Javier, Steve, Horacio, Jacoby and a tape player.

A deathly silence fell over the room as Jacoby pressed play on the tape. Tensions ramped up higher when it initially was too distorted to decipher. But after some minor tweaks, there was no mistaking whose voice it was.

“We have to move now,” Horacio stated.

However, before Javier and Steve could take more than a step, Messina made her presence known. “You two are staying here.”

Javier shook his head, unable to comprehend what he was hearing. “No, you gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“If Crosby finds out you went on another raid, we all get a ticket home.”

“Crosby doesn’t have to know shit!” Steve interjected, his temper already fraying at the edges.

Messina was unaffected by their objections, not even rising from her seat. It was clear her mind was already made up, and she wasn’t going to be persuaded otherwise. “I’m sorry, but my hands are tied. It’s not negotiable.”

Javier and Steve seethed in silence and shared a look of absolute incredulity. At being mollycoddled like children. At being denied what they had worked towards for fucking years. At being little more than cogs in the machine of American bureaucracy and public relations.

Horacio had kept quiet up until now. There was no point trying to interfere with gringo politics. It was fruitless enough trying to reason with his own government, let alone Uncle Sam. But he wrestled with whether he’d want to even if he could. Whilst he understood the injustice and everything Javier had given to his job, there was no getting around the fact this was going to be a dangerous mission. He’d never voice it, and he hated how selfish it was, but frankly, the decision made the load on his shoulders a hell of a lot lighter.

“We’ll be in radio contact,” he settled for in the end, his gaze landing squarely on Javier. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had.

Once Horacio had left the room, Javier paced like a caged tiger, hands twitching and his jaw in danger of shattering if he clenched it any tighter. Heated conversations continued around him between Messina and Steve, whose anger was less restrained than his own.

No fucking way was this how it was going down. After everything. They wouldn’t even have this intel if it weren’t for him. He couldn’t let Horacio go out there without him. The countless times they’d fought side-by-side, and now this could be the final showdown, Horacio would have to do it without him. All because of red tape that cared more about the reputation of U.S. officials than it ever had done about the people of Colombia. No, he couldn’t let this go. He had to do something.

Steve and Messina were still at loggerheads whilst Jacoby had excused himself to make a fresh pot of coffee – or possibly something stronger. This was his best chance if he was quick about it, so without a backward glance, Javier let himself out of the room.

------------------------------------------------------

By some miracle, it seemed as though Javier had escaped undetected, but as he neared the end of the corridor, he was halted by a voice behind him.

“I hope he’s fuckin’ worth it.”

Those six small words hit Javier like a freight train. Whilst he was frozen to the spot, it allowed Steve to catch up in no time with long, purposeful strides.

 “Steve, I—what are you—?”

“Oh, come on, Javi. I’m not fuckin’ stupid.”

The echo of Steve’s voice was distant and faint despite its proximity, but Javier’s pulse roared in his ears and galloped in his chest. A vice-like grip had taken hold of his lungs, squeezing each breath of oxygen out of him as if it was his last. No amount of deflection or playing dumb could help him now. The game was up, and there was no way out.

Undeterred by Javier’s ongoing silence, Steve continued where he’d left off. “I didn’t think you were either but guess I was wrong. Him of all people, Javi?!”

Steve was much too close, in all respects. It was suffocating, and without realising what he was doing, Javier grabbed Steve by the collar and pushed him against the wall. “You don’t know the first fucking thing about him!” he hissed out of the side of his mouth.

They stared each other down, breathing hard and neither showing signs of conceding. “Maybe not, but I know you. I know you’ll always follow him and damn the fuckin’ consequences.”

“And you wouldn’t do the same for Connie?” 

Javier hadn’t meant to say that. He should have asked how Steve knew. That was the logical train of thought right now. Along with why it seemed Steve’s main issue with this revelation was Javier’s taste in men rather than his interest in them in general. It wasn’t as though he didn’t want answers to these questions, but an entirely different one tumbled out instead.

Steve was on the cusp of retaliating for Javier bringing Connie into this. But he paused with a complicated expression that Javier couldn’t quite decipher. There was confusion, followed by a slight softening of his features that morphed into something else Javier couldn’t put his finger on. But it made him let go of Steve’s shirt and back away.

“I’m not gonna change your mind.” Steve wasn’t asking or attempting to reignite their argument; he was stating a fact. A realisation that he finally understood everything for what it really was. For what it always had been.

Javier didn’t say a word but looked Steve in the eye and firmly shook his head.

“Shit, Javi.” Steve looked back at the meeting room, then ahead towards the swing doors to the main entrance. “Come on, we haven’t got much time.”

“What? Steve – wait – you know what this means?”

“Of course, I fuckin’ know! But isn’t that why we’re here? This could finally be it, Javi. If we catch Pablo tonight, we’ll be going home anyway, right?”

Javier’s hand cradled the base of his neck and rubbed along the band of tense muscles at the apex of his shoulder. “You sure?” He had to be certain just in case the shit did hit the fan afterwards.

“Look, I – I get it – about the other times – now I know – but you ain’t icing me outta this one, Javi. No fuckin’ way.”

Steve was right. Javier had no right to deny his partner this. This wasn’t about him and Horacio. This was their job and their mission. The whole reason they were even in Colombia in the first place. Steve deserved to see it through as much as he did. “Okay, fine. Let’s go.”

They made a break for the front entrance, although it was deserted when they arrived.

“We’ll take my Jeep,” Steve said, fumbling with the set of keys in his pocket whilst they hurried across the parking lot. “They won’t have got far.”

It wasn’t long before they had sped out of Carlos Holguín, hot on the tail of Search Bloc and closer than they’d ever been to putting a bullet in Escobar once and for all.

------------------------------------------------------

It was nightfall by the time their convoy left base. Passing street lights popped against the ebony of Horacio’s irises, giving them a fierce wolfish glow. The swooping knot in the pit of his stomach was starting to give way to laser-sharp focus, strategies and tactics. This was where his years of training and experience kicked in. When he had to leave Horacio to one side and embody Colonel Carrillo. When he and his men might end Escobar’s stranglehold on Colombia and finally stop the bleeding.

“We’re on San Juan,” Trujillo confirmed over the radio after they’d travelled in silence for a short while.

“Copy that,” came Steve’s reply. “And we’re approximately 5 minutes behind you, maybe less.”

Trujillo’s head darted round to Horacio in the back seat. “What the hell?! I thought you said they weren’t coming, Colonel?”

Before Horacio had a chance to answer, another voice crackled through the airwaves. “Slight change of plan. I’ll explain later, but let’s get this motherfucker first.”

The knot in Horacio’s stomach re-emerged, pulling and twisting until he feared he was going to vomit. This wasn’t supposed to happen, yet he wasn’t surprised it had. Murphy’s warning was spot-on. Panic rose in his chest at the memory of his dream, even though the rational side of him knew that’s all it was. But still, how could he not fret?

He signalled to Trujillo to pass him the radio. “Keep safe,” was all he said in the end. A standard well-wish to anyone else, but he hoped Javier remembered those were the words he’d used the day Diana Turbay died. A day that still haunted Horacio, but he’d never forgotten the warmth of Javier’s voice.

“You too,” came Javier’s immediate reply. And Horacio needn’t have worried, because of course, Javier remembered.

“Murphy, you’re buying the drinks tonight,” Trujillo joked after Horacio handed back the radio.

“Only if you pick us up some cigars on the way, you cheap bastards.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

No sooner had the words left Trujillo’s mouth than a blinding flash of heat and rush of compressed air consumed them as they came to an abrupt standstill.

It took several seconds for it to register in Horacio’s brain that a car parked to the side of the road had exploded, raining fire and debris down on their convoy. Whilst he tried to gain his bearings and survey the damage, two large trucks pulled up at either end of the street, blocking their way out behind and ahead.

The apartment block on one side of the road was now alive with activity. Several floors up, the windows flew open in unison to reveal a team of men armed to the hilt.

“It’s an ambush!” Trujillo shouted over the radio, although a shower of bullets was already hailing down on them.

The glass next to Horacio shattered, spraying jagged shards over him as he ducked down in his seat.

“Reverse!” he yelled but looked up to see their driver, a young recruit named Rodriguez, was lifeless over the steering wheel.

“Colonel, we need to move!” Trujillo cried over the thunderous and relentless gunfire that had already punctured their tyres and blown out several windows.

Horacio glanced over his shoulder at the carnage of the other CNP vehicles. “My men, I can’t leave them.”

“With all due respect, Colonel, you’re not gonna be much use to them if we stay here. Peña and Murphy will have called for backup. We can’t do much ‘til they arrive.”

Javier. He and Murphy were a few minutes behind them, and there was no way they wouldn’t attempt to intervene, with or without backup. If the roles were reversed, nothing on this earth would stop Horacio from diving in headfirst if he thought Javier’s life was in danger.

Horacio tried to regain focus and steady his breathing amid the chaos thrust upon them out of nowhere. There was no room for panicking or making a wrong move.

The vehicles had thankfully been restocked with supplies that morning. Horacio just needed to be able to reach behind the back seats into the trunk to access them.

He made his move, bullets still flying around them and the tirade only pausing whilst their attackers reloaded.

His hand fell upon several stun grenades, which he hoisted up and divvied up between them. Ideally, he would have grabbed a lot more, but the gunfire had resumed.

“On my cue, follow me. Stay low to the ground at all times, clear?”

“Yes, Colonel.”

Horacio managed to slide across the seats to the side furthest from the apartment block. He opened the door as slowly as he could before lowering himself to the floor.

Trujillo made his way from the front to the back of the car and copied Horacio’s movements.

They caught their breath whilst Horacio communicated his plan to Trujillo in a series of well-rehearsed hand signals. This was far from their first shootout, not to mention the countless training drills Horacio had insisted his men run through. Trujillo had never been more thankful for serving under a Colonel who didn’t care if it was pouring down with rain. Or if your unit had stayed up drinking into the early hours celebrating a successful raid. They were put through their paces no matter what.

When the time was right, they launched the grenades behind them and ahead in the path of the truck. Flares of flashing lights and bangs erupted as the canisters hit the ground. It wasn’t enough to harm any potential survivors in the vehicles behind them. But it was enough to throw the snipers off their stride.

During the enforced ceasefire, they made a break for it. Through the haze of acrid smog, Horacio faintly discerned a gap between the wall and the truck. All they had to do was keep going, one step in front of the other. That was until his body jerked forwards as though he was winded, a searing burn radiating across his right shoulder.

Prickling heat branched down his arm, splintering electric shocks like forked lightning striking a tree. It wasn’t his first run-in with a bullet, although those had been superficial wounds. Whilst he was no medical expert, something told him he wasn’t so lucky this time.

“Colonel! Are you alright?”

The discombobulating part of it was Horacio knew that he wasn’t, but adrenaline masked the pain. A fact he needed to take advantage of whilst he was still conscious and could stand. “I don’t know, but we’ve got to keep moving,” he rasped.

Trujillo flung his arm around Horacio’s left side, alarmed by how little resistance his Colonel put up as Trujillo bore his entire weight.

It was only then that Horacio clocked the smear of blood above Trujillo’s eye. “Your head.” His breathing was more laboured as he spoke, and his vision was blurrier than even a minute ago.

“It’s just a scratch, Colonel. We’re nearly there now. Stay with me!” Their movement was hampered by Horacio’s rapidly deteriorating condition, as Trujillo was all but carrying him along.

Horacio was alert enough to make out the screech of brakes ahead, more shouting and gunfire, a familiar presence appearing at his other side.

A loud whooshing noise filled his ears like his head had been plunged underwater. Nothing around him had any solid form. His body was floating and weightless, but his limbs were heavy, stiff and dragging him under. Down, down, down he fell into an impenetrable blackness. An icy darkness he’d never known. Darker than night, darker than any deed he’d committed and darker than the deep crimson currently saturating his uniform sleeve.

He lay at the bottom of a chasm staring up at what appeared to be an endless murky sky, but faint traces of fireflies blinked in the distance. As they drew nearer, they were more like reflections on the water. Or rather a delicate light dancing across precious metal. Precious in every sense of the word.

Memories swirled around him and were accompanied by two voices he recognised even though he couldn’t name them. The second voice brought about a fond warmth. Reliable, loyal, old before its time and wiser beyond its years. The first voice, however, wasn’t so much a warmth but a blazing heat. Passionate, enduring and grounding. Home.

The combination of the two kept him conscious long enough to be hoisted up off the ground into the waiting car. But then followed a cry of pain nearby that wasn’t his own, and all fell dark once more.

#Narcos fic #Narcos #Javier Peña #Horacio Carrillo #Carrillo #Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo #Pedro Pascal #Maurice Compte #Narcos fanfic #Narcos fanfiction #Narcos fan fiction #Narcos fan fic #My Fan Fic #My Narcos Fic

[cyphersuna]

I. LITTLE FORKS | lust. lust

summary: in which two of the seven deadly sins come to Forks looking for fun. Or in which a certain vampire discover certain emotions for a certain sin.

pairing: edward cullen x lust sin!fem!reader

tw: sexual themes. (y/n) being a baddie

author’s note: i think y'all r going to believe in #(y/n) supremacy just saying. also this chapter is completely edited, if u see any mistakes, tell me, i will fix it.

DAMN STUPID, STUPID CHILD. HOW CAN such ungrateful people exist? Despite all the years that you have lived through something that you still cannot understand how it is that a person can do this.

"Stop complaining, it was my turn and you know it." Sebastian's voice takes you out of your thoughts.

"But Sebastiaaan." You extend the 'a' while you put your arm on the car door. "It's something very inconsiderate of you. . . to come to this town, it was quite an abrupt change"

"It's not that bad either, (Y/N)," he says, glancing at you. "I deserved a break from that place."

You look at him re-indignant. "Las Vegas is the city that never sleeps Sebastian, how do you think about resting? Pathetic" you look at him annoyed. "Damn the day that I get sloth" you say in a whisper to yourself so that he won't hear you, but it seems that it didn't work.

He braked the car suddenly, if it weren't for you to put your hand in the glove compartment you would have broken you whole, for a while.

"RECANT!" He yells at you reproachfully.

How sensitive

"No," you answer dryly.

"I didn't get you, we went together, it's very different!" You laugh internally because he always gets upset when he brings up that subject.

"Okay," you roll your eyes. "Go ahead, I'm hungry."

"(Y/N)," he speaks to you with warning.

You raise your hands in a sign of peace.

"Well, I promise not to complain, I don't want to fight on our first day." You take his hand and turn to look at him. "We'll continue with this discussion tomorrow.

"That's why you're my favorite." He smiles at you and starts the car. You look at him puzzled.

"You have no choice, Sebastian," you let go of his hand.

"Of course I do, remember that I still have five to choose from," he says mockingly.

"Like you really like them." You cross your arms.

He looks at you badly. "You said you wouldn't talk anymore."

"What—?" he interrupts you.

"Shut up, if you don't, I'll slow down and you know it doesn't cost me anything."

Moron.

4 HOURS LATER...

"Tell me why the fuck we didn't take a fucking plane?!" You open the door of the house bought with the sun of sloth here in Forks. "Seventeen hours Sebastian" you slam your suitcase on the floor of the fully furnished living room. "Seventeen fucking hours of my life spent on that trip"

Sebastian walks in and carefully sets down his bags.

"Don't exaggerate, it was only 1810 kilometers, it is not so bad" he comes over and puts his hands on your shoulders. "Time has passed, so relax and prepare your things that tomorrow we will go to school.

"Bitch, what?" You look at him without believing him.

"How do you think we'll eat? We need to make friends" he says in quotes, takes his hands off of your shoulders and starting to walk up the stairs but stops in midway. "Oh and call Crowley"

"Why me? Call him you" You cross your arms.

He pouts. "You are his favorite, please"

You start to climb the stairs until you reach his side. "You wanted to come here, didn't you? So it's your problem" you pat him on the shoulder.

"But he's going to scold me," he says in anguish.

"Why did he would scold you?" You look at him confused. "You didn't warn him?"

"I may not have." He scratches his neck. "He always takes a long time to visit us."

"You know that he was coming this Friday, right?" You ask mockingly

He look at you scared. "Oh no! Please no, he's going to kill me"

"Even if he wanted to, he can't," you shrug.

"He's going to tear me apart," he ignores you. "And he's going to throw me at the pigs." Still dramatic. "I'll be pig poop."

You roll your eyes. "Well, it was nice meeting you, dear friend." You went all the way up the stairs and entered one of the rooms. "Bring me something to eat and I will talk to him!" You yell at him from above.

"THANKS LUCIFER," you hear him scream.

THE NEXT DAY

"On the right"

You turn right.

"TO THE OTHER RIGHT," Sebastian yells at you.

"BITCH IS THE SAME," you yell at him, annoyed.

"Oh, yes," he smiles at you.

"Shut up, we're here," You point to him the pile of cars nothing relevant to tell the truth, except for two that didn't take much attention but of course they did.

"Look here is an unoccupied parking space," he points out to the side of a gray Volvo where there are six very pale boys for my taste, three girls, a blonde with long hair, a black-haired with a pixie haircut and a brown haired with a mane for nothing to show off. She is a little less pale. The three boys a blonde with hair above the shoulders, a hefty one, one with copper hair, all but the brunette have golden eyes.

How lazy, but at least this little Forks won't be so boring.

Before Sebastian opened the door on his side, you stop him. "We are in vampire territory and it smells like wolves too. So behave yourself"

"They don't have territories, because they all belong to us," he says egocentric.

You roll your eyes. "I thought I was with Sebastian, not Elvira"

He looks at you annoyed. "Rude"

"Well, get down, I'm getting hungry"

"Just don't leave me alone, I'm lazy to make friends."

"How strange," you reply sarcastically, you two open the door catching everyone's attention, even the pale faces. Being closer to them you look at them in detail.

"Did you miss something on my face?" The blonde's voice pulled you into reverie.

"Hmm, nothing about yours, but theirs might soon lose my tongue." You smiled flirtatiously.

She was about to approach you but the strong man takes her arm. You focus your eyes on the serious blonde clashing glances with him.

"Love, could you tell me where can I find the secretary of this—" you glanced with disgust at the building in front. "—school?"

"When you enter, you walk to your right and the secretary will be at the end of the hall," he replied in a friendly tone.

"Thank you, how nice." You start your way where Sebastian waits for you lazily, but you stop and look at them over you shoulder, directing your gaze first to the blonde girl. "Save your claws, that doesn't make a good first impression," you say mockingly while she gives you an angry look. Your gaze pauses briefly on each one of them. "Our stay will be more fun with vampires in the game"

The shocked faces are genuine, aside from your crooked smile.

"(Y/N)" Sebastian also speaks to you with a mocking smile. "Stop bothering our friends, if not, who will we sit with for lunch?" He says with feigned sadness.

You pout your lips. "You are right." You walk around with the vampires still with their shocked faces. "Hope to see you at lunch, bye."

You go with Sebastian and went to the entrance.

"And the discretion?" He asks you mockingly.

"It ended a thousand years ago," you tell him in a whisper so low that only he can hear, which makes him laugh out loud, drawing everyone's attention.

"As is our dignity."

You smiled. "Maybe yours, Seb"

"HEY!"

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© cyphersuna (2021). do not copy, translate or remake w/o my permission. PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME.

#edward cullen x reader #edward cullen x y/n #twilight x you #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #robert pattinson x reader #twilight fic #dylan o'brien x reader #bill skarsgård x reader #jeffrey dean morgan #rosalie hale x reader #jasper hale x reader #alice cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #edward cullen #robert pattinson

[bigskydreaming]

William Cobb is a total asshat and I hate him, thanks, BUT I will admit there’s a particular AU that’s been dancing around my Brain Cave for a few years that’s like.....hmmm.

Okay, so he’s a full on douchebag, but imagine if he was a full on douchebag who in this AU did still have an actual soft spot for family instead of drinking the Kool-Aid and thinking like ‘being the 1%’s elite murder moppet is actually the greatest honor I could ever hope for myself or any descendant of mine’ he’s like.....not awful about the subject of family and is like ‘well I’M a terrible person, but I will fight for my family’s right to choose to not be a terrible person, because like, they’re family, and its their life to fuck up if they want to be all weird about it or whatever.’

So BASICALLY, what I’m getting at is like, so, the Court was all into nabbing the Gray Son after Dick’s parents died, and William Cobb for once in his miserable existence experienced like, actual Internal Conflict about this because he’s like oh nooooo, but my great grandson is so cute actually and I can speak with some authority to the fact that if the Court gets their hands or requisite-Talons-pun on him, that like.....will not last long.

But then he breathes an undead sigh of relief or whatever the equivalent for him is when Bruce Wayne, one of the most powerful figures in the city, powerful enough for the Court to be wary about picking a fight with him, like, randomly swoops in and makes with the adopting of said great grandson.

And the Court’s like, ugh, what is this feeling of being denied something we want simply because we think we should have it? Do Not Like, 10/10 would absolutely NOT recommend, except to mortal enemies we hate. But whatever. I GUESS Bruce Wayne can keep the brat, but only because we simply don’t care enough to make a big deal about it and definitely not because we’re intimidated by his own power and family prestige. Cuz we’re totally not. We’re not! Shut up.

BUT.

THEN.

YEARS LATER.

The Court is engaged in active conflict with the Batfamily, and his Internal Conflict appeased and years behind him, Cobb’s like, all into the fight and giving it his all, until Something Plot Contrivey happens to unmask Nightwing and Cobb’s like. Oh shit. That’s my great grandson. CURSE YOU, SUDDEN BUT INEVITABLE RESURGENCE OF INTERNAL CONFLICT! NOBODY FUCKING ASKED, JEEZ.

And Dick’s just like.....uh, what’s happening right now? I feel like I’m missing context. Can a bitch get an MLA citation here or something?

All of this culminating in Cobb maybe not HELPING the Batfam demolish the Court but perhaps at least oh so conveniently not NOT helping when the Batfam delivers a metaphorical death blow to the Court O’Assholes. Like, the Grandmaster dipshit calls him on his celly to be like COBB! THE COURT HAS BEEN BREACHED! COME DEFEND YOUR MASTERS and Cobb’s like bzzrt....click....whrrrr....sorry going through a tunnel can’t hear you oh no dropped my phone in the sewers, signal lost, much regret.

And he just happens to arrive to the fight too late to change the outcome and he’s like oh dang, did I miss it? Shucks, I KNEW I shouldn’t have taken the freeway. My bad, guys. This one’s on me.

Because of Plot Contrivancey then, by this point the Batfam knows who this dude is and they let him go with a shovel talk like we still know about all the murder, FYI, and we’re doing this for Dick’s sake not yours, so you better not do ANY murder from here on out or its on sight.

And Cobb’s like okay first off, you’re not the fucking boss of me, but secondly, like, eh, whatever. I’m fucking old. I can retire. Its fine.

BUT because being a lying liar who lies about just kicking back and taking it easy and having hobbies is literally encoded into the Grayson DNA, he fucking lies like a lying liar who lies, and after trying to pick up fly fishing for like, two whole hours before calling it quits, he decides to devote his undead golden years to stalking his great-grandson like the creepiest guardian angel that literally nobody ever asked for. Dick included.

Dick keeps trying to like, Old Yeller this situation and is like GO HOME! You GO home now! Go on! But Cobb’s just not having it and he accidentally kills another up-and-coming Rogue who sets his sights on Nightwing. Great-Grandson and Great-Grandpa engage in heated stare-off, Battle of The Wills. Batman arrives and clears his throat menacingly. Cobb’s like oh no I’m so scared, I would totally be sweating right now if I weren’t physiologically incapable of sweating and oh yeah DYING.

And then its Cobb and Bruce engaging in the Battle of the Wills: Grudge Match edition, because they’re both glaring each other down while thinking the identical thoughts of “ugh the literal worst person in the world made one point and one point only and that’s that we must protect this mutually loved person at all costs and taking each other down would ultimately only deprive said loved one of a protector who could like, be key in protecting him from some future Murder Demise or whatnot” which segues neatly into both Bruce and Cobb shaking their fists at the sky and being all CURSE YOU, SUDDEN BUT INEVITABLE RESURGENCE OF INTERNAL CONFLICT! NOBODY FUCKING ASKED, JEEZ.

And Dick’s like, okay I can see you’re both very busy right now and this is no longer about me really so I’m just gonna leave you to it and go get ice cream with Damian. I’ll check back in a couple of hours to see if either of you has blinked yet, I guess? Idk. Whatever. You guys do you.

“My family is so fucking weird,” he grumbles under his breath as he walks off into the sunset. His siblings apparate into his presence, mouths open and ready to argue the comparative greater weirdness of their grafted branch of the Wayne family tree and he’s just like first person to bust out a flow-chart isn’t getting any ice cream, FYI, but because they’re all the kids of a billionaire who can be counted on to give them some spending money of a few hundred or so with just a puppy eyes look and a “why yes, Bruce, a hundred dollars IS the price of one banana,” like, they are not actually phased by this threat and it all swiftly devolves into ‘Whose Relatives Are Like, The WORST Worst’ competition that nobody will ever win, not that that actually matters.  

Its like, the Wayne Family Forever War. Just family tradition at this point. You get it.

[the-fiction-witch]

Books

TV SHOW: THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY WATTS X READER  RATING: FUNNY + FLIRTY

I walked down the half broken, foul smelling new york streets. Hearing my heels clacking in the pavement as I walked, the swishing of my petticoats and my dress, the small sun trying to peek through the thick grey clouds. I put my sunglasses in my handbag as I arrived at the tall buildings I saw the beaten up beetle parked in the street and the small handful of parking tickets it had under the wiper blade so I picked them up and sighed turning to look down into the ever stretching darkness of the stairwell. I stepped down trying not to touch the handrail to the first level of little doors with some lights and then down the second stairwell into the dark nothing's, it smells like shit down here. 

I got to the door trying to not touch the gross walls tapping in the door as hard as I could hearing the metal echo through the basement.

The door opened tenderly and careful a first as if trying to peak before it opened fully revealing a barefoot, Benny watts. Stood in his black dirty jeans where he'd clearly wiped his hands down his legs for some reason, his black t shirt with his usual chains, his hand fixing his hair out of his eye with a small smile on his lips 

"Hey you"

"Hey" I smiled briefly stepping inside, as soon as my foot crossed into his apartment he put his hand on my waist and gave my cheek a kiss "move your car" I told him pushing the tickets into his chest he took them and I headed inside slipping my Jacket off and laying it over the chair 

"I'll move it in a bit" he says "coffee?"

"Tea" I Answered "extra milk t-"

"Extra milk two sugars I know" he laughs going over to his kitchen setting the tickets down in a forming pile on his kitchen counter 

"You should pay them"

"I should do a lot of things"

"Pay your parking tickets Benny"

"Suck my dick y/n" he says leaning against the counter looking at me crossing his arms over his chest "we both don't do what the other wants us to"

"You make me suck your dick I'll bite your cock off" I sighed sitting at the table 

"I know, I still have the bite mark from Last time" he sighed bringing the cups over sitting across from me with his coffee instantly I took my little hanki from my handbag and cleaned the top of the cup seeing the white cotton turn grey 

"What is it Benny? What did you summon me to the slums of new york for?"

"Oohh sorry, next time should I request an audience at mi lady's palace?" 

"What do you want Benny before I pour this tea down your pants"

"I need your help"

"... Hu. Never thought I'd hear you say that but go on"

"I need your help with something that only you can help me with"

"Right…"

"I wanna write a book" 

"A book?"

"Yes"

"What kinda of book?"

"One with... words?"

"No shit. Fictional or non fictional?"

"What's the difference?"

"Fictional is a story, non fictional is real life."

"Oh, non fiction"

"Okay, do you have a plot structure"

"A who what?"

"What's the plan for the book Benny?"

"I shall write it. And then I shall publish it." 

"Did you wanna edit it somewhere in the middle there?" I laughed

"Eh, you can do that" 

"Okay… so lemme guess this is a book about you? Or about chess?"

"Little I'd both"

"Who's publishing it?"

"Me?"

"Ohh so you have four thousand dollars laying around do you?" 

"What!"

"If you wanna self publish Benny, the basic level is four thousand dollars and that will get you local distribution if your lucky which is about five states out if that." 

".... Uuuughh, I'll publish through a publisher? Your publisher?"

"Eleanor doesn't take non fiction"

"Then she has to know someone who does? Right?'

"She does but then have to pay for meetings which cost roughly fifty bucks per ten minutes, and you have to get an approved manuscript before they'll even meet you, and even though a publisher for international you’re taking nine to ten thousand. Dollars."

"Uuuuuuughhh, wait. It's a chess book so I could get funding for it from the chess federation"

"Maybe, but then they are going to need to approve it first, and the send to a publisher willing to carry it, and then designing, and editing and printing and stocking which could take over five years" 

"Five years!"

"Yep. The novel world is a slow one Benny" I said "besides that's all publishing stuff, you can worry about that when you have a manuscript"

"A what now?"

"Manuscript is like the… actual book pages and all the words that will be on them"

"Ohh, well that shouldn't be too long, bang it out over a long weekend or something"

"You think you can write a book manuscript over a long weekend? Three days?"

"Yes"

".... Okay, so you wanna write a book? Which for non fiction about chess really a good level would be five or six hundred pages minimum, your going to get it written, edited, and ready to send to the chess federation for approval by Monday morning, even though they might reject it or just plain not fund it, you'll be already one thousand dollars in the red, before you add shipping, handling, copywriting, paying me for editing because I ain't doing that shit for free and as it's currently four pm on a Saturday afternoon and you haven't even writen a word yet"

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

"How long did it take you to write your book?"

"Six years, in and off with a full time job and without an editor"

"I'm fucked aren't I?'

"Not fucked Benny. Overambitious" I laughed "do you have a title?"

"No."

"Do you have a synopsis?"

"No."

"Do you have a typewriter?"

"I was going to write it by hand?"

"With your handwriting?"

"What's wrong with my handwriting?"

"Benny, it looks like a spider learnt cursive and then got drunk"

"I don't own a typewriter. May I borrow yours?"

"No. Buy one"

"There like sixty dollars!"

"I will buy you a pre-owned typewriter"

"Aww thank you sugar"

"How are you intending to pay me for being your editor?"

"... Royalties?"

"Awww Benny darling, if you sell your book for a dollar each you'll be lucky to make 25 cents per book in royalties, less if you go though a publisher, and even less if it's being funded by the federation… you'll maybe get about six pennies if your lucky" I explain 

"Then how the hell do you afford your car? Your house? Your dresses?"

"I sell alot of books Benny"

"I'll give you three pennies if my six pennies royalties?"

"Of your not yet existing book? So I'm just meant to wait and see if I get paid?"

"I'll bake you a cake?"

"You can't cook Benny"

"... I will eat you out?"

"No deal"

"I promise you half of all royalties, editor credit and I'll fuck you as much as you want, now will you please just help me?"

"Fine. I'll be needing a deposit payment" I said 

"Alright, you know where the bedroom is I'll finish my coffee and be there in a sec" 

I sat on the leather chair looking at the handwritten chapter structure Benny had given me "Benny?"

"Yeah?" He asks slightly jumping where he had been sat for so long at his table with his notes and the old typewriter I got for him trying to figure out how he loaded paper in it 

"What is this word?" 

"What word?" He asks 

"The something with something"

"Which chapter?"

"Four?"

"The faults with defense" 

"That is how you write an s?" 

"Yes"

"... How do you not write an s right it's in your name?" 

"No it's not?"

"Yes it is"

"B. E. N. N. Y. No s there?"

"Watts?" 

"Ooohh yeah"

"You fool" 

"Also, does this have a E?"

"No."

"And how am I meant to write a chess book without the letter e? I sort of need it? Chess. Defensive. Queen. Benny."

"Antidisestablishmentarianism" 

"That's a word?"

'"yep"

"Can you use it in a sentence?"

"Screw you bitch I can spell antidisestablishmentarianism" 

"A.n.t.i.d.i.s.t?"

"Nope"

"Damn it" he sighed "but I need e how am I meant to write chess without an e?"

"Write an o and then draw a line in the middle?" 

"Fine" he said starting to type one key at a time "Openings… and… tactics… by… Benny… watts" he said but the typewriter had got to the end of the spool "y/n! Why won't it type!"

"Benny just… ughh come here you child" I sighed getting up going over and moving the spool back to the centre so he could write "there. You have to do that at the end of each line"

"Really?"

"Yep. Isn't writing fun" I smiled kissing his head 

I sat listening to the clicking and clacking of his typewriter keys, sounded like music to my ears in his quiet dark and cold apartment

"Fuck!" He yelled breaking me from my relaxation as he stopped

"What?" I asked

"How do I undo?" He sighed rubbing his eyes 

"You can't what happened Benny?" 

"I typed porn instead of pawn" he sighed resting his head in his hands

"You fool" I giggled "you wanna know how we fix mistakes Benny?" I giggled going over wrapping my arms around his neck 

"We we write the whole page?" 

"Nope. White out" I smiled handing him the shall bottle 

"Fuck! That smells like paint"

"Ehh pretty much is"

"Thank you y/n"

"Your welcome" I smiled giving his head s kiss "call me when chapter one is done I'm going for a shower" 

"Uuuuhhh… yeah I'll do that" he says not sounding confident 

"How close to finished are you with chapter one?"

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh… next week sound good?"

"And you could bang out a whole book in a weekend" I laughed sitting back on the chair 

"I said I'm sorry! I didn't know it was this hard" he says 

I sat the other side of the table with my lovely blue pen, my leg over my knee, smirking slightly at him as Benny sat on the other side his hands to his face watching me Intently, panic in his eyes everytime he saw me use the blue pen, which I was having to do alot. 

"Here" I said throwing it back to him now I was done "you should probably re write that's a little too much editing for white out watts"

"What's wrong with this?" He asks as he looked over the page 

"You used the wrong there"

"I hate you. Beyond words can express." 

#thomas #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #thomassangster #thomasbrodiesangster #thomas sangster imagine #benny #Benjamin Watts #benny fanfic #benny smut #benny x reader #benny imagine #benny watts #benny watts imagine #benny watts smut #tqg benny watts #bennyimagine #BENNYWATTS #bennywattssmut #tqgbennywatts #The Queens Gambit #thequeensgambit #tbs #tbs smut #tbs sex #tbs smutty #TBS Imagine #tbs imagines #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster i

[jae-daddy]

Duff (5) (M)

jaebum au series

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight masterlist 

pairing: im jaebum x reader  genre: angst, smut, cheating, CEO! I guess too now  plot: you are the duff and guys use you to get close to your bestfriend, Heather, and turns out Jaebum is no exception. but as time goes on the tension between you and your best friend’s unofficial boyfriend grows  a/n: I think I'm completing Duff now! it won’t be too long, I think like four more parts left, maybe more, I don’t have a plan! stay tuned! not edited, hope y’all enjoy it! <3

“Prick,” you seethed, watching the girl laugh as she placed her hand on his arms. 

Even from the distance, you could hear Jaebum chuckle, you could hear his silvery tone and the heat of him as he leaned into the girl and whispered something in her ear.

The girl leaned back with a frown, and Jaebum pointed before turning towards your table. You looked away, but you knew Jaebum had caught you staring.

Your doubts became confirmed when he slid into the booth and placed a drink in front of you, “What were you looking at, love?”

Heather turned to you, her eyes glistening innocently in the lights. You glared at Jaebum before turning towards Heather, “I don’t trust him.”

Heather only laughed, her soft voice floating over the thumping music of the club like a melody, “Don’t be ridiculous, y/n. I really thought the two of you would become friends after working together.”

“Me too,” Jaebum mused in with a knowing smile.

Your glare darkened at him as you lifted the dark liquid to your lips, “Well, you thought wrong.”

“Always breaking my heart, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You turned to see if Heather saw this blatant flirting, but she was busy talking to the male beside her. She laughed at something she said, her hand falling on his arm. You turned to Jaebum now to see if he noticed her flirting, but his eyes remained on you smug and unmoving.

Your brows furrowed with annoyance at the two of them, and you frowned before downing the drink.

Jaebum instantly placed another in front you, and you glared at him but accepted it anyway. After all, free booze was free booze.

Heather had left with the attractive guy and was now grinding against him at the dance floor, leaving only Jaebum and you remaining in the booth. You glanced at Jaebum who continued to watch you as if you were the only thing in the whole entire universe worth looking at.

“What?” you snarled, making Jaebum’s smile brighten.

“You’re a firecracker, aren’t you?”

“And you’re an annoying cunt, aren’t you?”

Jaebum laughed at that, but your frown only deepened as you spotted Heather’s red-hair in the crowd of people.

“God, Jaebum,” you turned towards him frustrated. You didn’t know how to say this without being a nosy bitch who was causing problems in their relationships, but you couldn’t hold back anymore.

Every time you would go to the clubs with them. Jaebum and you remained on the table, sneering at each other or commenting on the idiots in the club. While Heather was on the dance-floor with a different guy every week, grinding against them as if she didn’t have a boyfriend.

“Don’t you care that she’s dancing with someone else?”

Jaebum shrugged, taking a sip of his beer, “I don’t dance.”

You sighed as your lips drew into a line, “Are you guys in an open relationship?”

“No,” Jaebum snorted, before adding with a heart-stopping wink, “But arrangements can be made for you.”

You groaned at that, “I can’t believe she’s going out with a sleazeball like you.”

“Hey,” Jaebum frowned, “You’re the only person I am a sleazeball with.”

“I’m honoured,” you rolled your eyes. You leaned towards him, your face taunting as you drawled, “And exactly, how many girls have you told that to already?”

“Only you, love,” he leaned, his face just a few inches away from yours.

Your eyes darted to his lips and you swallowed, hard, “Disgusting.”

Jaebum laughed once again, before falling against the backrest, “It’s good that she gets to live her life how she wants to.”

You followed his gaze to where Heather and the guy were dry humping now.

“It’s quite brilliant,” he looked over at you.

“Oh, you think that’s brilliant, cool,” you told him with fake enthusiasm, “I’ll note it down in my diary tonight.”

Jaebum stared at you, the lightness in his eyes shifting with an intensity that settled on you, making you shift uncomfortably. His eyes held you as he saw through every word that you spoke, every sigh and every wall you had put around yourself, and smiled as if he knew all your secrets, “What’s wrong, y/n? Why are you back to being a loathsome little creature?”

You snorted at that, his gaze still heavy on you as you avoided looking at him.

“I thought we were getting along,” he said softly. It was surprising you could hear him over the loud trashy music of the club. You could hear him, and hear that heaviness in his voice that made your heart sink.

You knew he was referring to that night in Heather’s kitchen.

You remembered that feeling in your chest. The lightness and heaviness that settled there at once, that warm little glow that ignited somewhere deep. You remembered the hope, and how your heart wrenched as you saw Jaebum disappear into your best friend’s room.

You knew it was dangerous. You knew it would cost too much.

So instead you smiled at him. You saw his face fall as he took in the sinister twist on your lips as you sang, mocking him, your heart tugging with every word, “Yeah well, you thought wrong.”

His face clouded with confusion, sadness, and your heart bled as he said, “You shared something with me, y/n.”

The smile dropped and your lips pursed into a tight line, you saw the hurt on his face. You shrugged, nonchalantly, “Yeah, I overshare with everyone so don’t think you’re special.”

You looked away from him and his eyes failing to mask the hurt.

//

“Y/n,” he moaned, his voice dark and velvet. 

A breath escaped you as his hot tongue licked your neck before his lips kissed your searing skin. Your eyes rolled back, your hips rising before setting down on his big thick cock again.

He groaned against your skin, his fingers tightening on your hips.

You leaned back, a smirk on your lips as you saw the dark-haired male look up at you. His dark eyes almost closing from pleasure as you rose once again before letting him fill you up once again, tortuously slow.

“Such a good boy,” your lips twisted into a smile, as he let out another breathy groan. Your fingers tangled into his dark hair before you gripped it, pulling his head back. 

You took him in, his eyes needy and dark with desire, his lips red and tempting as he met your eyes. His hips moved helplessly below you trying to fuck you as he wanted.

You snickered, raising on your knees, making him almost whine. You tugged his hair harder, making him hiss, the darkness in his eyes taking over.

“You should see yourself right now,” you amused, leaning down and running your tongue up his neck, reaching just below his ear. You placed a soft kiss there, before biting his earlobe, his hands tightened in response. You grind yourself against him again, and he lets out a throaty groan. “Such a mess.”

You leaned back looking at his handsome face, “Such a pretty fucking mess, aren’t you, Jaebum?”

He nodded, his mind a haze in lust and desire.

You leaned in once again, your lips kissing his pale neck, as he let out another desperate moan, and then another. Another.

Your fingers tugged his hair, caressing it. Your fingers running down his long strands, tracing it down his back, you bit his neck and he let out a soft feminine sigh.

You opened your eyes, and found ember wrapped around your fingers. You leaned back and saw her beautiful face arched up towards you. Her eyes closed, the fire of her hair spreading behind her, her pouty lips parted with a moan.

Heather opened her eyes, the green in them darkening with poison as her lips parted once more, “What are you doing with him?”

Your eyes widened as you stared at her in shock. Her perfectly straight teeth seething as fangs grew in, her eyes changing as she hissed this time. Her body beneath your body, slithered as scales started to cover her.

Her sharp tongue hissed at you as you saw the betrayal turn her into a monster, “I thought we were friends. How could you do this?”

Her s’s drawn-out, as she continued, “I loved him. I loved you. You hurt me. Now pay the price.”

She darted towards you, the venom spitting out of her mouth as you jerked backwards.

You gasped as you jolted in your chair. 

You looked around taking in your surroundings, calming down slightly as you realised you were still in the office at work. You gulped, your throat was dry as you reached for your water bottle underneath your desk.

You choked on it as the male from your dream appeared in front of you. You frowned, as you thumped your chest to help the choking.

Jaebum’s eyes shone with bright lightness as he took you in, a familiar grin on his rosy lips as he snickered, “Can’t seem to function around me, love?”

The choke receded and you spat, “Get over yourself, sir.”

You sneered the title knowing how much it annoyed him.

In the past week, you started to properly work as Mr Im Jaebum’s assistant. During that period you had realised two things. First, being his secretary wasn’t bad at all, he was actually hardworking and wasn’t too difficult to assist. And secondly, he didn’t want to be your boss as much as you didn’t want to be his personal assistant.

He would visibly cringe and frown whenever you said sir, boss or Mr Im.

“Just call him Jaebum, y/n,” he groaned from the hundredth time, “is it really that hard?”

“Yes, I am a professional.”

Jaebum only smiled, rolling his eyes, before he waved you in to follow him instead. You groaned getting up from your seat, and Jaebum smirked at you knowingly, “Yes, clearly a professional.”

You only glared at the back of his head as you followed him in. You couldn’t help but admire his perfect ass, and how great it looked in those suit pants he wore.

He spun around, and your gaze instantly lifted to meet his. Your cheeks flushed as you saw the corner’s of his lips lift as he caught you in the act.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him.

It was literally becoming concerning at this point. All you ever thought about was him. The way he would smile, roll his eyes or laugh at you snarking back at him.

You really didn’t know how you functioned around Im Jaebum, because every time you were around him, your body went into overdrive. 

You thought about him endlessly. You thought about Jaebum when you had dinner, when you would wake up. You would be pleasing yourself, and right before you came, the thing to send you over the edge was always him. You had cum countless times moaning his name, and it was mortifying.

Your cheeks flushed brighter as you thought of all the indecent things about him.

And now, he was even invading your dreams.

Him and Heather.

You shuddered at the memory, but Jaebum had already turned back towards his desk to notice. He lifted up his hand, gesturing you to walk over with two fingers.

The power of that movement, the authority, the dominance, almost made you melt and fall onto your knees, but you still walked towards him. No sign of the storm raging on inside you as you stood on the other side of the table, taking in the sheets of paper spread over the dark wood.

“What are these?” You asked quietly as you took in the papers. All you saw were graphs, research papers and a few photographs of what looked like a UNICEF campaign for poverty.

“Which of these do think is the best,” he lifted up a pile of papers and handed them to you.

A snort left you as you shuffled through the papers, all pictures of Jaebum in different poses; some professional and some completely ridiculous. But he looked like a handsome model in all of them. You sighed, looking up at him, “Once again, what are these?”

“I had an interview with the magazine and they sent over a few finals for me to select,” he replied, as he moved over to your side of the table. You stilled as you felt his presence behind you. He spoke, his hot breath hitting your neck, “Which of these do you think is good?”

You peered up at him through your lashes, as his eyes turned to look at you. He was close, too close. You took a step away, but not before noticing his eyes flicking to your lips.

You bit your lip before you turned to the selection of photos, “What is the interview for?”

“For me.” 

You gave him a dry look, “Yes, and what exactly about you?”

“Oh, I don’t know actually,” he frowned as he scratched his temple. You gave him another dry look and shook your head.

“Yeah, the interview is not happening, I’ll call them up and cancel now.”

Jaebum looked at you wide-eyed, his hands grasping your elbow to stop you as you passed him, “What? Why?”

“They are a gossip magazine, Jaebum,” you sighed, gesturing to the covers they had sent over. “They aren’t showing a title for you cover story, or for any of the other stories they’re doing because they don’t want to reveal the theme. Chances are, it’s not nice and will only cause trouble.”

“But I-”

You cut him off with a sigh, “Look, if you want interviews I can set some up for you. Journalists would fall over themselves to get a chance to interview you, but not them,” you pointed to the pile of cover shoots, “They will only tear you apart to sell their magazine.”

“It’s a friend,” his eyebrows furrowed together so innocently, you wanted to stroke his face and make the worry disappear.

But instead, you gave him a grim smile, “Does your friend run the magazine?”

“No.”

“Is an editor or hold power?”

“No, it’s a friend of his who needed something big, and I just wanted to help,” he trailed off. He let go of his grip on you and ran his fingers through his dark hair instead. 

You had run your fingers through them in your dream too, but now you couldn’t remember how they felt.

“If you want to help them, tell your friend to contact me,” you sighed, watching him as he settled onto the couch in the corner of his office. You had realised that Jaebum rarely ever sat on the chair meant for him. He always sat elsewhere unless someone had come to visit for a meeting. “I have a lot of scope for them.”

Jaebum looked at you, giving you a tired smile. You walked towards him, your heels softly sinking into the rug underneath the couch. You licked your lips as you sang, “Benefits of being besties with a socialite.”

Jaebum chuckled half-heartedly, “You and besties are the poster party girls.”

“We know how to have fun,” you replied, still watching him carefully. Jaebum looked absolutely distort and tired as he leaned into his forearms, his dark hair hiding his face.

You stood there for a long moment. You weren't sure if you should walk out and give him space, or sit next to him and soothe his tense back.

Just as you were about to leave Jaebum let out a dark snicker, “I can’t even fucking do this right.”

You stopped and turned towards him. He wasn’t looking at you, his cold and distant eyes stared at the floor as he shook his head, his lips curling.

“All you needed was one look and you knew that magazine was shady, and I...” He shook his head, his lips curling into a cruel smile intended just for him. “I couldn’t even do a single interview right.”

“Hey, come on,” you said softly, deciding to walk over to him. You sat down next to him, “You just came back, you don’t know about gossip magazines. The only reason I know is that I read stuff like that. No one expects you to know.”

Jaebum laughed again, hollow, “No one expects anything from me.”

You frowned at that, “Jaebum if this is about your position and you being the son of the chairman, I think you’re pretty wrong. The Chairman was actually against your appointment, it was the Board that scouted and are fighting for you.”

“It’s only because I am a threat,” he shook his head, as he massaged his palm nervously. “It’s so I don’t go elsewhere.”

“Exactly, you are so good that they can’t afford to lose you,” your frown deepened as you studied him. “So what is the problem?”

“They’ll make me permanent regardless,” he shrugged.

“Do you want to be the Director?”

Jaebum sighed, before shrugging, “I don’t know.’

You bit your lip before you nudged your shoulder against him slightly. He turned to you, and you saw the lightness return to his eyes, and your heart shivered.

You looked towards the front and you said, “Yeah, well, trial periods go both ways. You can say no at the end of this as much as they have the right too.”

You looked at him one more time with a soft smile, “Either way, you’ll do absolutely fantastic.”

“Fantastic,” he repeated, his lips lifting into a mocking grin, and you could barely breath. You gulped as what ever oxygen you had in your lungs all fled as his eyes darted to your lips. You saw them darken, and your stomach dropped.

You remembered the dream and ached at how badly you wanted to see him that way. You remembered the slightest kiss you shared in the elevator and wondered what it would be like to do it properly, to complete it this time around.

His minty breath fell over your lips. You breathed him in for moment, before shooting up from your seat. Your eyes remained on Jaebum, who now stared at the empty space where you had been a second ago. He blinked once, and then a grin broke over his gorgeous face.

“Well,” you breathed, calming your racing heart and the slow pulse in your core. “I’ve got emails to answer.”

You were almost at the door when Jaebum’s voice surrounded you. It was mocking, but you could easily hear the sincerity as he called out, “And you have the nerve to say we’re not friends, y/n.”

You stopped, peeking over your shoulder. He relaxed back onto the couch, but his eyes kept watching you, his gaze burning you as he waited for your answer.

You bit your nails into your palm, and your eyes fluttering close as you sighed, “Fine.”

“Fine?” Jaebum asked, the hope shining brighter than the teasing.

“Friends.” You stated before speeding towards the door.

“Don’t go too hard on those emails, love,” Jaebum laughed, as you walked out of the glass door.

“Prick.” You muttered as you collapsed on your chair.

#duff #im jaebum #im jaebeom #lim jaebeom #lim #im #jaebeom #jaebum #got7 #got7 jaebeom #got7 jaebum #got7 series #Jaebum series #imagine #jaebum fanfic #jaebeom series #got7 smut #got7 angst #got7 fluff #angst #smut #fluff #jaebum angst #jaebeom angst #cheating #ceo #imagine angst #jaedaddy #hope yall like it #not edited

[luxekook]

chapter three.

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader (insert gif of elmo with flames behind him here)

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, jimin propositions the reader accidentally, taehyung is a menace, noona kink jumps out A LOT, chaotic ot7, talk of poly relationships, overall kinda smut free (the next chapter should quench fuel your thirst)

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter Three

“It means that we’re going to date the shit out of you.”

We’re going to date the shit out of you.

We’re. Going. To. Date. The. Shit. Out. Of. You.

Those words play on a constant loop in my head for the rest of the week. After Namjoon had dropped that bombshell on me, I’d kind of freaked the fuck out, faked an immediate illness, and ran at full speed.

When I had told Luna about it later that night, she had been just as shook as me. Surprisingly enough, she had also given her full support of whatever I decided to do but “would have her banana slicer on standby and would order six more if need be”.

It appears that she had drunk-ordered a banana slicer off Amazon when the last boy she talked to pissed her off. I had apparently drunk-approved the decision. Rad.

Jenni’s reaction had been even better. We’d been in the library on Monday and her screech of “he said what!?” had led to multiple events:

An abundance of shushes from every student within a 50-yard radius

Her continued rant: “Your own personal harem! Can you say goals? Maybe I should infiltrate EXO and collect my own...”

Us getting kicked out by our ancient librarian

For the rest of the week, I had Luna and Jenni both giving me shit about the BTS boys. It had helped that I hadn’t run into them at all on campus between classes. But I had known it wouldn’t be long before my luck would run out...

Quinn Library – 2:31pm

Typically, I don’t spend my Friday afternoons deep within the stacks of the library’s quiet floor. Yet, here I sit typing frantically due to my incapability to stop procrastinating. My fingers fly over the keys of my aging MacBook in hopes that whatever spur of productivity I had going on is captured in its fullest.

General education classes could burn in the pits of hell as far as I'm concerned. If I wanted to be a psychiatrist, why did I have to take – and pay for – an art elective that I would likely never utilize in the workforce? Plus, the only class within the category that fit my schedule ended up being “Writing About Dance”.

Yeah, I’m still a tad bitter, but in all honesty the class isn’t that bad so far. It mainly consists of watching different dance performances and learning how to write about them in different styles.

Today’s assignment is to write critical commentary on videos of the university’s dance team that the professor provided for us. Sighing, I finish my review of the second to last dance video provided by the professor, take a quick second to stretch, and then open the link to the last video on the assignment page.

“Park Jimin – Final Performance Solo, Spring 2019”

Slack-jawed, I fall into wonder as Jimin moves through his routine flawlessly. He dances like it’s easier than walking to him. His movements are somehow precise and fluid all at once. I barely realize a few tears have run down my cheeks until the video cuts off, signaling the end of Jimin’s performance.

Jesus, (y/n), get it together. I laugh lightly as I dig in my backpack for a tissue. How could I possibly capture the ethereal beauty that Jimin exuded into words? Am I even worthy of commenting on such exquisiteness?

Definitely fucking not. And before I can second guess myself, I type: “Park Jimin is art in its purest form. Watching him dance is like watching the sun rise over the ocean – raw beauty accompanied by the hopes brought with a new day. His performance left me wanting for nothing except an encore.”

Boom. Submit Assignment.

As my email pings with the confirmation that my assignment is turned in, my eyes widen in realization. Park Jimin of BTS is a dance god, and he – allegedly – wants to date me? That is just ridiculously unfathomable.

Namjoon must be off his rocker.

Closing my laptop, my phone suddenly vibrates with an incoming notification from snapchat...

President_RM has added you!

Before I can even comprehend the absurdity of Namjoon adding me, my phone bursts into a series of buzzes. Cursing, I switch my phone to silent and check my screen.

minsuga93 has added you!

jhopeworld_ has added you!

handsomeJIN has added you!

JKookie97 has added you!

vantae_BTS has added you!

95jiminie has added you!

Are they serious? How did they even get my SnapChat username?

vantae_BTS has added you to a chat!

Curiosity wins out over aggravation as I swipe to open the chat.

Heart pounding, I fight the urge to chuck my phone into the depths of the bookcases winding around the room. What did those idiots want with me?

(y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 9:45pm

“What do those idiots want with me?” the decibel my voice has risen to is shocking even to my ears.

Luna cringes, accordingly, “I can’t tell if that’s a rhetorical question...”

I steamroll onwards, “And don’t even get me started on how they could have even gotten my snapchat. It’s a complete invasion of privacy!”

“You could just ask them,” Jenni’s voice cuts through my rambling tirade.

I pause, “No, I couldn’t—”

...Or could I?

Turning on my heel, I rush into my room and head straight for my closet. Grabbing the nearest sweatshirt and pair of leggings, I tug them on and then grab my keys from my nightstand.

Whirling back into the living room, I storm past a dumbfounded Luna and Jenni, “Be right back.”

Opening the apartment door, Luna shouts, “Wait! Where are you going? You’re not even wearing shoes!”

Whoops. I glance at my feet and note that she is, in fact, correct.

Jenni bounds over to me holding my Doc Martens, “Here, babe. You’re going to the BTS house, aren’t you?”

I nod grimly and salute my two best friends as if I'm going into battle. “I won’t be long. I just have a small errand to run.”

“Well, you’re not going alone,” Luna declares, pulling on her sneakers.

Jenni snorts and shoves her feet into her beat-up Converse, “No way am I missing out on this action.”

As we head out the door, I link arms with Luna and Jenni, “Have I mentioned I love you both recently?”

“Right back at you, bitch,” Luna laughs.

Greek Row – 10:17pm

Ten minutes later, we reach Greek Row. Fraternity and sorority houses dot the street on both sides. Personally, I think of this street as home to the chaotic rich, and I tend to avoid it at all costs – except tonight.

The line to get into BTS is so long it wraps around the block. Students dressed in the latest fashions converse as they wait, huddling together in their groups. I glance down at my outfit of a worn university hoodie and leggings.

“Well, shit. We’re underdressed, huh,” Jenni deadpans, causing all three of us to burst into laughter, “Do you think they put you on the list, (y/n)?”

Pondering that thought, I shrug, “Maybe,” and begin marching past the line of waiting students towards the front door of BTS, “But I sure as fuck am not waiting in that line.”

“Hey, there’s a line here!”

“Yo, bitches! What are you doing?”

“What the fuck?”

Paying the hecklers no mind, I saunter right up to the BTS pledges guarding the door, “Hi, I need to talk to Kim Namjoon.”

The pledge on the right rakes his gaze over me incredulously and then makes the same assessment of Luna and Jenni, “You know this is a party, right?”

I don’t deem that comment worthy of a response and instead cross my arms over my chest. He shrinks under the collective glare of me, Luna and Jenni.

The pledge on the left awkwardly clears his throat, “Names, please?”

My answer barely escapes my lips before the pledges visibly straighten, looking at me with new eyes, “You’re (y/n)? Why didn’t you just say so?”

And before I can answer, the front door swings open for us.

People are everywhere. A haze of smoke looms in the air, and rap music blares from the speakers. The bass is turned up so loud that the beat seems to take over the rhythm of my pulse. That cannot be healthy.

Turning to my friends, I do my best to communicate, shouting, “I’m going to find them! Are you going to be here?”

Luna and Jenni exchange a look and nod. Jenni shouts back, “We’re going to get some drinks. Might as well capitalize on free booze! Text us when you’re ready to go.”

And with that, we part ways.

Maneuvering around the sea of gyrating bodies in the main living room area, I scan around for any signs of my seven menaces.

“Do my eyes deceive me? Or is that my future wife?” The deep voice booms from behind me.

I sigh, recognizing the voice, and turn around.

Kim Taehyung is striding towards me with his arms outstretched, smiling like the damned fool he is and looking like he just stepped off the runway for Gucci. “Come to daddy.”

An idea forms. I smile sweetly and walk to meet Taehyung halfway. His boxy grin widens and just as he thinks I'm going to let him wrap his arms around me, I grab him by the ear.

“Ouch!” He cries, “Devil-woman!”

Ignoring him, I drag him behind me towards the stairs.

“If you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked—OW!”

My hold on his ear tightens as we arrive on the second-floor landing, “Where are your brothers?”

“I don’t know, n-noona!” Somehow the honorific coming from Tae sounds divine, but I file that thought away for another time.

Removing my hold, I corner him against the wall of the hallway, “Okay, Kim, here’s what is going to happen. You’re going to point me in the direction of your room, go find your six idiot brothers, and then report back here so I can finally understand what the fuck is going on. Got it?”

My chest heaves as my directions conclude and I realize how close together we are. Taehyung stares at me with an indecipherable expression before breaking into a slow smile, “Noona is bossy.”

“Noona is going to shove her foot up your ass if you don’t get moving,” I growl.

“Kinky,” he laughs, backing away from me and my brewing anger, “Last door on the left is my room. I’ll be back with the six idiots.”

As he thumps back down the steps, I close my eyes and count to ten, trying to steel my nerves and rein in my anger. When I open them, my eyes are met with the amused gaze of Min Yoongi.

Slapping a hand to my heart, I wait for my pulse to settle from being scared out of my wits, “Motherfuck—how did you even move that silently?”

“It’s a skill,” Yoongi drawls, nodding towards to end of the hall, “So, group meeting in Tae’s room?”

Shooting him the best side-eye I can muster, I stalk past him, steadfastly ignoring the chuckles and light footfalls that follow behind me.

Throwing open the door which Taehyung indicated was to his room, I pause, taking in the horde of photos and art taped to the four walls. The light blue wallpaper barely peeks through the absolute massive amount of artwork.

“It’s overwhelming at first, isn’t it?” An angelic voice shyly breaks through my reverie, “Tae likes to collect pictures and things he finds beautiful.”

“Ah, so that’s why we’re friends.” The joke is followed by a laugh that can only be compared to the sound of a windshield wiper squeakily moving back and forth.

I shift my eyes from Taehyung’s walls and onto the two newcomers – Park Jimin and Kim Seokjin.

Meeting Seokjin’s gaze first, I cannot help but agree that he is a very, very beautiful man. With pushed back dark hair, mischievous brown eyes and impossibly broad shoulders, Seokjin can easily be mistaken for an idol. And, oh fuck, I’m still staring.

Shooting my eyes back up to his, I crinkle my nose at his shit-eating grin. Before he can even comment, I turn and lock eyes with Jimin.

“Your dancing is gorgeous,” I blurt out and immediately want to crawl under a rock and live out the rest of my life as Patrick Star.

Yoongi and Seokjin are cackling as Jimin’s face lights up at my embarrassing compliment, “You really think so?”

“There's no shutting him up now,” Yoongi is in tears, “Watch out, (y/n). Jimin loves his fans.”

“Shut up, Yoongi-hyung!”

Jimin looks ready to swing, but luckily Taehyung chooses the right moment to return, “What have we missed? Why is Jiminie about to fight Yoongi? I’ll put $10 on hyung.”

Gasping in betrayal, Jimin sits on the edge of Tae’s bed and pouts.

The rest of the boys file in behind Taehyung as he flops down onto his bed and reclines like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“Hi, (y/n). Good to see you again. I’m glad you’re here,” Namjoon greets me with a slight bow, a crooked smile and wicked eyes.

He’s followed closely by Jung Hoseok, the only BTS boy I hadn’t met thus far, “(y/n)! It’s so nice to meet you in person! Wow, you look so pretty tonight!”

“Noona always looks pretty,” Jungkook cuts in, throwing an arm around Hoseok’s shoulder, “She’s bae.”

A collective groan arises from the rest of the boys. “Sit your ass down, JK,” Yoongi grumbles, “(y/n)’s going to break up with us before we even start dating.”

“Dating—!” I break off that train of thought. Other matters need to be attended to first, “No, I didn’t come here tonight to say ‘hi’ or to be your ‘bae’. I came here to get answers.”

I take my time making eye contact with each boy.

Taehyung is still spread out on his bed and Jimin has now joined him. Seokjin, Hoseok and Jungkook are sprawled out on the floor at the foot of the bed, while Namjoon and Yoongi slouch against the opposite wall of the bedroom facing me.

“Alright,” Namjoon lifts his chin, meeting my stare head on, “What do you want to know?”

a/n: sorry for the cliffhanger, hehe. i wanted to get something up for y’all! hopefully next chapter won’t take too long to finish/edit :)

taglist:

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@awkwardhumambean

#btswritingcafe #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x reader #bts smut #bts au #bts imagine #ot7 x reader #bts ot7 #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #hoseok #taehyung #jimin #jungkook #poly bts #college bts #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader